#just to make him at least a little bit angsty is so fucking funny

[cybervigilante]

wally pointing and laughing at roy, dick, and garth because he has a completely uncomplicated relationship with his mentor, was treated well and kept safe throughout his time at Barry’s side, and actually had the time of his life as KF

[teddypines]

The aftermath

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Sumary: The aftermath of a not so great mission. Reader x task force 141, Fem!reader (she/her pronounce)

Note: This is a rather long one, it bit angsty and i might make a part 2 to this. I want tf 141 in Schotland!! Also yes the picture up top does not match the vibe of the story, but it's a funny picture. Art / picture is from pintrest, credits go to the creator

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Location: Safehouse, unknown. Date:  somewhere in September. 20XX

Both Gaz and Ghost lay on the only two beds in the whole safehouse, Gaz more hurt then Ghost, but both still beaten up quiet bad. Soap kept watch for now as Price went out to try and contact Laswell and any share or form while Y/N tried to make something eatable out of there rations. They’ve been stuck in the safehouse for over 2 weeks and with both Gaz and Ghost hurt things just didn’t look bright.

Soap sighed and stood up from his spot next to Gaz and Ghost. He quietly left the room to go check on Y/N and the food. He was tired and didn’t really get much sleep at night, not with Y/N clinging onto him like a koala. He didn’t mind it a lot since it kept him warm, but the way she slept on his arm made him wake up every hour or so. 

Y/N looked up when Soap walked into the small kitchen. “How are they doing? Any better?” She asked worriedly. “Gaz, was awake for a few minutes and Ghost helped me clean his bandages this time, so i would say they are getting better just very slowly.” Soap answered as he stood next to Y/N by the stove. “Bloody hell, what is that?” Soap asked the moment he had a look inside the pan. “I’m not sure, I tried to make stew, but with what little we have it is kinda hard to make it. I’m hoping the Captain comes back with something more useful after his call with Laswell.” Soap nodding also hoping the same thing.

<-------------------------------------------------->

Price did come back with something useful for the stew and a promise that they wouldn’t have to stay in the safe house for much longer. An evacuation team was on the way. 

Soap and Price made sure the rabbit was skinned and gutted before Y/N cut it and put it in the stew. When Ghost walked into the room. “Fuck what is that smell?” “Rabbit and you should be back in bed.” Price answered Ghost’s question before walking over to his lieutenant. “Come on, back to bed Simon, you are not supposed to be out of it.” Ghost groaned at Price, hating how he used his name to get him to do what he wanted. He quickly, but carefully, made his way to Y/N “Just let me kiss the lass first, then i'll go back.” 

Y/N looked up at Ghost. “It’s good to see you are a bit better, but please do as John says and rest. Don’t want you to be even more wounded than you already are.” She said while lifting Ghost’s mask just to be above his nose. “And just one kiss” Ghost didn’t listen to her, leaned down and gave Y/N one long kiss and two short ones before kissing her forehead. Soap then helped Ghost back to his bed in the other room, practically forcing him back and away from Y/N. 

“Want one too, now that they are gone?” Y/N asked as she made her way to Price, who slowly nodded his head. “Please.” They both smiled and Y/N wrapped her arms around the captain. “Thank you for making food for us these past two weeks, lass, made it less rancid” Y/N laughed and then gave Price his well-deserved kiss. “Better now?” “So much better.”

Soap came back into the room and rubbed his eyes a bit. “Is it okay if I nap on the couch for a little while? At least until dinner.” “Of course Johnny, I'll get you a blanket” Y/N said to the tired Scots man. She pulled away from Price and walked over to the chair near the couch to get Soap his blanket. She proceeds to tuck Soap in before he drifts off to sleep.

<----------------------------------------------------->

It took another week for the evac team to find them and to pick them up from the safe house. By that time Ghost was much better and his wounds started to heal nicely, but Gaz was still out of it. Y/N walked next to the carrier Gaz lay on while the medical team took him to the plane. They wanted to look her over too, but she refused. Just needing to know that Gaz was safe on the plane first before anything else could be done or checked on. 

The medical team could finally check on Y/N and the others once Gaz was safe on the plane with Nikolai. Turns our Price had been hiding a broken rib and a bullet wound for three weeks. Ghost was still the same, but got some morphine to deal with the pain. Soap and Y/N were both fine aside from some scratches and healed wounds.

“We got some food for you all on the plane” Laswell said as she helped Ghost on the plane. “Something not rations or gross” “Like a hamburger?” Soap asked as he sat down next to Y/N with a blanket. “Sadly, no, it’s chicken noodle soup with a piece of bread if you like.” Laswell answered. She sat Ghost down on one of the medical beds. “We could get you hamburgers once we’re back at base.”

Soap pouted a bit as Laswell tells him that there are no hamburgers, but he was happy that there was chicken noodle soup to warm up to and to have something that is actually food for the first time in weeks. He did however hope that Y/N would make rabbit stew once in the future, just to see if she could make it even better with real ingredients. Y/N looked over at Soap and smiled. “What ya thinking about?”

“Just food and you.” Soap answered with a big smile. “Ah, so two of your favourite things, I see.” Y/N remarked as she slowly lay her head on Soap’s shoulder. 

They all got settled on the plane, got medical attention even when it wasn’t really needed and got as much chicken noodle soup as they wanted. Nikolai got the okay from Laswell and started the plane, taking his favourite task force back home.

<---------------------------------------------------------->

Location: secret military base, England  Date: 29 September, 20XX

Y/N made her way over to the medical wing, a care package from Gaz’s mom in hand. Gaz was still out of it, but he was slowly getting better. Of course it worried the others, they hated seeing someone they loved hurt. As Y/N stepped inside the room Gaz lay in she turned on the lights. The steady beeping of Gaz’s monitors filling the quiet room. “Hey, Kyle, your mom sent you a care package again. She’s worried, you know, just like we are. She feels bad that she can’t come over and take care of you.” Y/N started to talk to Gaz in a quiet tone. She sat down on the chair next to his hospital bed and started to unpack the care package. “I promised her I would take extra care of you on our last call so she made you a bigger care package than last time.”

Y/N pulled out the first item out of the box and smiled. “She put in a framed picture of your family. I’ll put it on the nightstand so they can watch over you,” She explained before putting the picture on the nightstand next to the bed. “Owh and look at this, it’s a little sheep plushie, owh and their name is fuzzy” Y/N melted as she took the sheep plushie out of the box. It almost made her want to cry. Just wanting her Kyle back with her. She placed the plushie in bed with Gaz and continued to go through the box. 

“There are some drinks and snacks in here too and i think your mom put in a bottle of stock for soup.”

“Yes, it’s beef stock, and there is a pack of funny pasta’s in here for the soup. I’ll make you the soup when you’re better. Wouldn’t want to waste any of this good soup without you having a taste of home” Y/N said as the lump in her throat got a bit bigger. She looked at the door, closed, and then back at Gaz. First she put down the care package and then crawled into the hospital bed. “Please get better soon Kyle, I miss you, we all miss you.” Y/N whispered before crying herself to sleep next to Kyle. 

<-------------------------------------------------------->

Location: secret military base, England  Date: between 11 October, 20XX and 26 October, 20XX

Entry’s out of Soap’s Journal.

October, 11th, 20XX Y/N hasn’t been eating a lot lately. It worries me. I try to get her to eat, but she just won’t eat a lot. I get that she is worried about Kyle, we all are, but she can’t stop taking care of herself, yet she did. John said it will pass once Kyle is up again, but I have a feeling that won’t be for a little while. 

October, 13th, 20XX I talked to Simon about it, he sees it too. Both John and Y/N are looking worse than when we were in the safe house. We try to help them, it works a bit. Works more when Simon does it, but then again he has more balls than me.

Called home today, mom is worried too. She said that if Kyle is better again we can all stay with her and dad at the farm. I think that would do all of us a great deal of good. Just hope Kyle wakes up soon. 

October 17th, 20XX Simon got Y/N and John to eat properly today, took us 2 hours of fighting and 30 minutes of trying to comfort Y/N, but they ate. 

The doctor’s say that Kyle is getting better, but that he is taking his time. He did wake up for a bit when one of the night nurses checked up on him last night. She said he asked about us. 

Kyle’s mom sent a care package again, this time with mostly stuff for us and not Kyle. I might call her tomorrow, tell her how things are going. 

October 20. I caught Y/N sleeping with Kyle again today. I really hate seeing her like this. John is doing better tho. He’s been sleeping with me and Simon a lot at night. Y/N sleeps with Kyle most nights, scared he might die when she is not around. 

21 October, 20XX Kyle is finally doing a lot better, still not awake, but doing better enough to give Y/N a calm mind and to get her back in bed with us. Eating is still an issue, but we are working on it. 

We saw Alex at base today with Laswell. It was nice seeing him again, he looks good. Farah is rubbing off on him and it shows.

October 25, 20XX Called mom again today. Well, Y/N took over after about 10 minutes, she needed to hear my mom’s voice and that everything was going to be okay.

Simon and I talked about going to my parents after Kyle wake’s up. He thinks it’s a good idea too.

October 26, 20XX Kyle finally woke up. We are all over the moon and he is doing great. Y/N is making the soup she promised to him when he was out of it and John and Simon are staying close to Kyle.

We all talked about it and once it’s okay for Kyle to leave we are going to my parents for a month or 3.

[cod-dump]

Oh no now I'm having a lot of angsty feelings about Soap being "the least favourite" /and/ knowing it. It's all fun and jokes and everybody's laughing even when they go as far as leaving that little bothering feeling behind them and Soap might really believe it. It's all funny until they find themselves in critical situation and Soap is the fastest to make a hard decision and to make a sacrifice because he knows that if he would wait a little longer with making up his mind he might start thinking about it too hard. He has to be fast and let nobody get hurt (but he doesnt take himself under the equation).

Favorite

Soap centric fic

___

“Sometimes I just want to lock you in your room and throw away the key!”

“Does that mean I’m demoted to least favorite?”

It was a running joke that started a while back when Soap had first joined 141. Back then Soap was the outcast. Price, Ghost, and Gaz had known each other for quite some time and it felt strange when Soap joined. Soap had somewhat knew Price but not as well as Ghost or Gaz. As time went on and he became more welcomed into the fold, that joke still remained.

Gaz and Ghost always seemed to be competing for being favorite. And when Farah was around she automatically took first place and Ghost and Gaz were then fighting for second place. And Soap? Soap was always in last place no matter what. He always acted like it never bothered him. Always joked with everyone when someone brought it up or even was the one who made the joke first.

That’s all it was: A joke. Just a joke that they all laughed at together.

But some days it feels like it isn’t a joke. Some days Soap still didn’t feel like he was a part of a family, just a member of a team. He doesn’t have rank over anyone, isn’t that important either. He’s just a guy that’s good at blowing things up enough that he was recruited into 141. He’s no one special.

Soap watches Gaz get put in a headlock by Ghost, Price laughing at them before he separates them. He had a hand on each of their shoulders to keep them in place as they laughed. Soap knew if he walked over their attitudes would change, that the father/sons moment would be over. So he stayed put, watching from the sidelines as Gaz hides behind Price and taunts Ghost.

“Watch your tongue, Sergeant,” growled Ghost in a playful manner.

Gaz just grinned, “You may have rank over me but-!”

He wraps his arms around Price’s shoulders, “I’m the favorite~”

Price rolls his eyes dramatically, “Here we go-“

Soap left as Ghost managed to chase Gaz off of Price and grab him again.

He ended up in the training grounds. He just walked until he found a secluded spot and sat. It was later in the evening but the sun wasn’t that low in the sky yet. Birds were chirping still so Soap determined that he could probably stay out here for a good bit before he would be missed.

He would be missed… right? If something happened to him? Right?

_

They were cornered, unable to push forward without taking more causalities. Price was calling for support while Ghost and Soap were giving them as much cover as possible. Soap ducked down as a grenade is thrown, exploding far enough away that it wouldn’t rock their position. But still close enough where the shrapnel from the blast could hurt.

Ghost fell to the ground, a piece of twisted metal through the meat of his shoulder.

“Fuck-! GHOST!”

Soap felt panic set in as Gaz crawled over, desperately making sure Ghost wasn’t hit anywhere else. Soap could see Price, see him thinking. If there’s one thing that Soap knew about Price, it’s that his boys come first. He could see the man debating, his hand clutched over his radio in a tight grip. Soap knew he was thinking about doing something stupid so they could get out of there.

Soap acts without much more thought.

“SOAP!”

Soap charged out of cover, shooting at the enemy and drawing their attention on him. Somehow he managed to get two blocks away from where they were taking cover. Somehow he managed to get into a building and hold his ground and keep the enemy’s attention on him. Somehow he managed to stay alive. Eventually he ran out of bullets so he had to hide, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he waited. They were going to find him.

Soap sat there until the sun went down, still on edge and waiting for the enemy. But they never showed. Did he fail? Fail to get them off the others? Was all of this for nothing? Soap felt tears fall down his face. He could hear gunfire outside of the building. It sounded close. Who were they shooting at? Soap hears people moving through the halls of the building. He grips the knife he kept from the hell that was Las Almas (Ghost never made an effort to take it back) and waits.

He heard the door open to the room he was hiding in and he immediately held his breath and closed his eyes.

“Soap? Are you here?”

Soap opens his eyes, a shaky breath escaping him, “N-Nik?”

Soap stands from his hiding place to see Nik at the doorway. The man laughed out in relief and rushed over to Soap, pulling him into a fierce hug. Soap leans completely into the man, relief flooding him.

“We thought you were dead.”

Soap swallows back his emotions and tries to speak clearly, “Too stubborn to die in this hell hole.”

Nik laughs and pulls away, checking Soap for injuries as he makes a call through the radio.

“I found him. He’s alive.”

Nik motions Soap to follow him back through the building. Soap followed, one question plaguing them.

“The others… are they-?”

“They made it out. Thanks to you.”

Soap sobs out in relief, following Nik back to the ground. The trip back to base was the longer than the trip to the combat zone. Soap fell asleep after getting settled in his seat. It wasn’t a very pleasant nap, but it was better than nothing. He woke when they landed. When he got out of the helicopter, he could see Price. Soap nervously walked towards the stone faced man, unsure what was going to happen.

When he reached Price, he stood at attention.

“Captain Price, sir.”

Price said nothing. He looked him over, swallowed, then grabbed Soap and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Soap couldn’t help but return it, tears in his eyes as Price held him.

“Don’t ever do something so fucking stupid like that again! I thought I lost you…”

Soap stopped trying to hold back the tears and starts to cry. He clings to Price and after a couple minutes he leads him inside. Soap was soon jumped by Gaz who was in tears.

“I thought you were dead!”

Soap was almost knocked to the floor by the force of Gaz’s hug. But damn, it was a good hug. It took some convincing from Price and Soap to get Gaz to let him go.

“Where’s Ghost?”

“Medical. That shrapnel did a number on him.”

“Can I see him?”

“Tomorrow. He just got out of surgery not too long ago and both him and you need to rest.”

Soap didn’t bother to argue. He took a long shower, changed into his softest sleeping clothes (they were Christmas themed but he didn’t care) and passed out. Soap came to find that he slept like a baby after all that hell he went through. He slept past his alarm and well into the afternoon. No one said anything to him about it when he finally emerged from his room. Gaz found him quickly and made sure he ate breakfast before they both went to Price’s office.

Soap couldn’t remember the last time he spent so much time in Price’s office to just hang out. Gaz was practically attached to his side as they sat on the floor and enjoyed listening to Price cuss at the reports he was looking over. When Soap finally went to see Ghost, he was lucky the man was bedridden.

“YOU FUCKER! I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD YOU CUNT!”

Soap had to go to Ghost so the man could try to squeeze the life out of him with one arm.

[chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter]

Let me tell you now, you're the lucky one

(Enemies to Enemies Who Fuck)

(HaruKaku in Bonten timeline)

(some past-MuSan and past-KakuIza with a subtle RanOmi bc why not, it's my fic and I don't have self-restrain when it comes to multishipping)

(link to ao3 in case some one preferes to read it there)

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat!

All of them. Bonten is their own warning. Substance abuse. Really unhealthy coping mechanisms. Depression. Mental health problems. Suicide. Major character death. (it's Bonten, they all want to kill themselves and some of them succeed, okay?) Mentions of unsafe sex, but there is no smut or graphic depiction of it.

I tried to not be too graphic with any of this topics, the focus is mostly on what the characters are thinking/feeling. But it's hard anyway, tbh the last scene was actually difficult and painful for me to write. So please, don't take the CW lightly and prioritize your mental health!

Angst and Hurt/No Comfort.

MANGA SPOILERS!!!!

Notes: HaruKaku came as an hilarious idea. Because they are hilarious, let's be real. Soulmates archnemesis, doomed to hate each other in every timeline. But then Bonten happened and of course, I ended up writing some angsty shit instead of focusing in all the other moments when they are hilarious. Kudos for me, yey! 🥲

This is canon complicit (again, is Bonten, beware!)

It alternates from Kakucho's POV to Sanzu's POV. I did that thing again of using "Haruchiyo" when he's in his most vulnerable state because for some reason I like playing with his name like this.

(English is not my first language, be nice please 🙈)

(the art is from @just-sp-in-inginthevoid who is in part responsible for the archnemesis brain riot, but mostly the hilarious part, tbh)

Is not that Kakucho enjoys Sanzu's company. Or that the pinkette gradually started to grow on him. Quite the opposite, to be honest. He hates him a little bit more every day, every shared mission, every time they had to spent hours together.

But with Sanzu, he feels. He feels intensely, he feels with passion. Even if it's twisted, at least he's not empty anymore. The void that threatens to devour him seems to disappear when he's around the other man. Sometimes, Kakucho wants to murder him, but he knows he can't. Others, he wonders what would happen to him if he also loses the only person that it's still able to provoke an intense emotion on him.

Hate is better than apathy, isn't it?

They hate each other passionately. Sanzu finds his reactions too funny for stopping it, always willing to go a little further, to push Kakucho to the edge. It's too easy to pick on him, making him forget about his allegedly righteous patience.

It's disgusting, how Kakucho thinks of himself like he was better than the rest of them. So Sanzu enjoys to proves him wrong, to show him that they are the same (even if he can't stand that fact either, seeing that burning rage in those heterochromatic eyes makes it worth it).

Now that he thinks about it, it was probably a matter of time, considering that his king denied them the right to kill each other, they needed to find a way of releasing all that build up anger. That's probably why isn't that surprising when it finally happens.

It looked like a regular night. Sanzu was high as a kite, trying to forget every one of his lives. Kakucho just seemed to be there, he can't recall exactly why, some type of report, but he didn't pay any attention to it at the moment, too intoxicated for actually caring for something that could wait until tomorrow.

“Why are you still here? You like me that much or what?”

The pinkette man says, slurring his words.

“Are you that high? You know I hate you.”

Is the harsh answer that he earns. It's brutal, but real. Kakucho's honesty has something that grounds him to the present. It's sickening. It's exactly what he wants right now.

“I hate you too, don't worry.” He laughs, finding his own words amusing. “Think about it, me and you. Just us, hating each other all night long.”

“You're crazy.”

“And you didn't say no.”

(If he was more honest with himself, he would admit that he was trying to find another way of punishing his broken mind and his body. But he's not.)

And oh, it actually feels good. Kakucho fucks him with the same brutality that talks to him. He couldn't bear any type of gentle touch (specially not from someone that it's so linked to Mucho, but he isn't thinking in that, he promised himself to forget his old captain a long time ago).

There isn't any type of care between them, only spite. Both men are too broken for having the ability to love someone again. Indeed, this was precisely what he needed. This is perfect.

The next day, Kakucho feels nauseated. How couldn't he? Sanzu was high as fuck, too intoxicated to give proper consent to do anything. So even if he was also a little drunk, even if it wasn't his idea, Kakucho feels guilty for what happened.

Until Sanzu just laughs at his poorly attempt of apologizing, mocking his morals once more. He was about to punch him in the face, but the lingering guilt doesn't allow him to do it. Not that one more bruise would make a difference, actually.

Both are covered in so many marks that more than sex, it looks like they tried to kill each other. Yeah, maybe he should stop feeling sorry for Sanzu, considering this. Maybe that was the best way to get rid of that not-so-pent-up hate.

And it works. At least for a while, it works. Until it happens again. And again.

Is not that they are lovers (Kakucho wants to puke with that idea). They just fuck from time to time. That's all. They hate each other, they wish they could kill the other. But they can't. So, sometimes, they fuck.

Their relationship is not pretty. At all. Or better. If Kakucho had to use only one word for describing it, he would say “real”. They don't lie to each other, what would be the point? Both are too able of seeing between the lies, they are too similar in so many ways. But that raw honesty only makes it worse.

Kakucho knows it's a mistake, that he shouldn't care about Sanzu's fate (he brought it on himself and he doesn't seem to have any complains). But Mikey is worse every day, the king is falling and his loyal dog is falling with him. Kakucho needs to do something, because the uneasiness he feels every time he sees them is now living rent-free in his mind.

That's why, one day, Kakucho tries. He's trying to find his clothes, dressing quickly, wanting to get out of this room that only makes him feel sick. Then, he looks at Sanzu, his pink hair scattered on the pillows, a lazy and satisfied smile than only appears after sex (and never lasts). There is some twisted vulnerability in how content the other man is while lighting up a joint, as if seeing these new swelling (all this pain) on his skin was something he wanted.

(Kakucho can't shake the feeling that Sanzu is using him as another way of hurting himself and that infuriates him so fucking much... Maybe that's the real reason why he decides against his best judgment and opens his big mouth.)

“Is not worth it.”

“Uh?”

Sanzu looks at the other, not sure if he actually heard something. He just wants to smoke and relax, to feel the post-orgasmic satisfaction while it lasts, to enjoy the pain in his body (one more of his little punishments).

“I said is not worth it. Dying with Mikey.”

If it had been anyone else, Sanzu would shoot him in the face just for saying this. Thinking like that, talking like that about his king is treason. It should be. But it's difficult to pretend Kakucho's isn't right about this when, unfortunately, it's the only one Sanzu trusts with Mikey's well-being (It's the one he calls every time Mikey is being suicidal again).

“You wish you could be me, you wish you had died with Izana.”

Sanzu spits his words, burning with all the rage he feels every time he has to acknowledge the reality of how is Mikey.

“That's not what this is about-”

Kakucho is unable to finish his sentence, turning pale in anger when Sanzu cuts him. 'Good'.

“You're a selfish bastard, aren't you? You want me to be like you, stuck here with no purpose, jerking yourself with the memory of a ghost. Pretend it's because of your high morals, that you're worried about me or some other bullshit. But you're just another selfish bastard. And you envy me.”

If it had been anyone else, Sanzu would shoot him in the face. But he can't (he wants to, oh, he wants it so much, but he can't disobey Mikey's orders). So, instead of bullets, he uses his words.

“At least Izana cared about me.”

Is the last thing he hears before Kakucho slams the door. Sanzu laughs maniacally, throwing the first shit he can find to the place the other man was a few seconds a go. He's momentary satisfaction long forgotten, replaced only by hate (and pain, but one that he refuses to see).

The worst part is that in a sickening way, he trusts Kakucho. They don't lie to each other, that makes it so much worse, because both of them know that what the other said is true. He hates him, he hates him with every fiber of his body. He doesn't want this words to be true, he can't accept that. He needs to keep living in this denial, to pretend Mikey is fine (to pretend he doesn't keep mixing this Mikey with that in his nightmares, to pretend they don't look so alike).

It's been three days. Three whole days since Mikey's death was splattered on the news (no one seems to care about Takemichi's death, even with all that footage of how the hero tried to save the most dangerous man in Japan). Kakucho cares, but he knows damn well that he wouldn't be welcomed within the hero's friends, so he would have to say goodbye in his own way (again).

During this days, Kakucho learned some things, like the fact that apparently everyone had some kind of contingency plan in case this happened (no, for when this happened, all of them could see that Mikey was more on the edge every day). But nobody spoke to him about it, keeping him in the darkness, the only idiot that didn't prepare himself for the end. Well, not the only, he knows that, of course he knows that.

(Sanzu would have killed them in the blink of an eye. Anyone who dared to imply that Bonten needed to be prepared to function without a king.)

Kakucho understands the need for secrets, of course he does. The idea of Mikey falling would be considered treason a few days ago, it was taboo to think like that. At the same time, none of them wanted to acknowledge it, like saying it out loud would make it more real. He can't even be mad when the Haitanis (obviously) thought about him on their own schemes, making sure Kakucho was also safe. Or as safe as any of them could be now that Bonten was crumbleling.

It's been three days. Bonten is crumbleling. Mikey is dead. And Sanzu disappeared the same day. Everyone knows he's dead, but they don't say it. Not in front of Takeomi, who's still desperately looking, going out in the rain for hours. Trying to find something, some clue that leads him to his little brother. Clinging to the hope that he's still alive somewhere. That he's going to find him, high as fuck, but alive (Kakucho thinks being able to find Sanzu's body at all would already be a miracle).

Only Ran is able to convince Takeomi to rest a little bit, promising that he and Rindou will help with the search as long as the older man gets a few hours of sleep. Takeomi just nods, mumbling “Today is his birthday, Ran. Is his fucking birthday and he's out there alone.” while Ran drags him softly, a concerned look plastered in those violet eyes.

Kakucho hates it, hates having to see all this sorrow around him (again). He doesn't lament the loss of Mikey and Sanzu, he's incapable of doing it. Grief took his heart for hostage a long time ago, there is nothing more for him to mourn.

More than anything, Kakucho hates himself, because he's jealous of Sanzu. He knows he shouldn't, but he hates that the pinkette man was right about him. He envies Sanzu, who had the privilege of dying with Mikey, of dying with his king.

Kakucho hates the Mad Dog even more right now. But he's aware that once this hate fades away, he would feel empty again. So he clings onto this feeling, he needs this rage as a motor to keep moving.

It doesn't matter if this energy is fulled with rage, he needs it. He can't fail his friends, what's left of his family. Kakucho has to keep living even if he can't remember how being alive felt anymore. Even if he's more dead inside every day.

So, over and over... Kakucho would keep living.

The rain keeps pouring down without truce, Haruchiyo shrinks inside the leather jacket that was always too big for him. Now the only thing that makes him feel protected from that annoying rain (from the world). To be honest, he isn't completely aware how he managed to recover it from his penthouse, but it seemed important in that moment.

The jacket and the old picture that he's still clutching in his pocket, the only two things he cared enough to take. He doesn't even need to look at it to see the four happy smiles stained with watermelon juice. Two pink haired kids that could be confused by twins, one with a shy smile, the other with a cheerful one, happy to be included with his brother friends. Next, a fierce smile showing two small fangs, already a force of nature at his young age. In the middle, a blond kid with the most radiant smile Haruchiyo ever saw, capable of making everything shine just with his presence. Full of life, of dreams. Full of potential. Brighter than the sun, a true leader.

But that was a long time ago and, once again, Sanzu is the only one who remembers. The man staggering in the rain is now the only survivor from that photo. Only him, alone in this fuck up world where nothing and no one matters anymore. Not without Mikey. Even Bonten can burn from what he cares.

He keeps walking (it feels more like floating for him, floating in a cloud of pain and numbness at the same time). Until he finally reaches his destination, an abandoned bowling alley. Sanzu enters in some kind of trance, not sure if he's dissociating or too intoxicated. He doesn't care.

He sits down exactly in the same place his king sat down. How many days had passed since that moment? One? Two? Ages. It certainly feels like ages for him. Haruchiyo hugs himself, trying to make space for his legs inside the big comforting jacket. Completely curled up. And he cries, he cries like he hasn't allowed himself to do so in the last ten years.

He's starting to sober up, he can feel it. Because the flashbacks are coming back. Shinichiro jumping from that bridge. Mikey jumping from this exact building. Mikey falling from the stairs, that awful “clonk”. Mikey jumping again from this building.

Haruchiyo screams, holding his head with both hands, begging the images to stop, unable to continue reliving those memories. He needs everything to stop, to be quiet, his shattered mind can't take it anymore.

He takes out a small box from his pocket, looking at the content. Everything he needs is here, he knows how to do it, how to make sure he's not going to wake up from this trip. His stupid hands are shaking while he gets the syringe ready.

For some reason, he suddenly remembers Kakucho's words a few months ago. He hates it, he hates thinking in that fucker when he's about to die. But the other man was right, wasn't he? Mikey never cared about Sanzu, he spent years of his life trying to keep his king alive and it was all for nothing. Everything blew up in one night.

A manic laugh escapes between his whimpers. Of course is that, he's fucking jealous. Sanzu is fucking jealous because at least Kakucho got to held Izana's hand when he died, he got to comfort his king in his last moments. Sanzu didn't had that, Hanagaki was the one holding Mikey's hand. Always that cockroach, never him.

What did he expect anyway? Haruchiyo is just a failure. He never deserved to be the one making his king last moments less painful. Of course, he should had known. He failed everyone. He failed Shinichiro, unable to protect Mikey, to be the friend he promised he would be. He failed Mikey, watching him falling into the darkness, becoming the same empty shell he already saw in a past that never happened, and doing nothing about it.

Sanzu doesn't have anything left. He also killed his own chance of happiness a long time ago (he also failed his captain, didn't he?). The only thing left for him is to disappear, to follow his king. He's going with him, because he's being following Mikey for so long, that he doesn't see any other choice. He's going with him, because he doesn't deserve to keep living when he couldn't save Mikey.

But it's fine, the drug is already kicking in, his body feels more relaxed. Even his mind seems to be quiet, almost in peace. He looks at the old photo one last time, before drifting out of consciousness, looking for safety in the inner part of the leather, pretending it smells like cheesecake.

It's fine, because at the end of the day... Haruchiyo was just a failure.

[writerblue275]

Current WIPs (updating list)

Requested WiPs (will generally work on in order they’re sent in):

Heartsteel members with a Vastayan partner Headcanons: I’ve been doing research so I have a better understanding of the Vastaya!

NSFW A-Z with True Damage!Yasuo Headcanon: 😲😲 What’s this? Me stepping into other parts of the LoL Musicverse??? (Lol I know I do like almost all Heartsteel stuff but I am a fan of the other musicverse groups!) I’m gonna do my best to do this request justice for the younger sword DJ brother. (Funny that I haven’t even done one of these yet for Heartsteel!Yone.)

Heartsteel with Reader!Partner that has an obsessive habit Headcanons: So this is super relatable to me as someone with severe anxiety that causes me to have such habits. That being said, I’m going to take a bit to write this one since I know this can be a very sensitive topic. While I wholeheartedly think mental health is something that must be talked about, I want to cover this topic in a way that still allows for people to find my writing to be somewhat of a safe space.

Dad!Heartsteel Yone Headcanon: Specifically GIRL DAD!YONE!!!! Oh I am SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE. I initially saw Yone as a boy dad, but the more I thought about it I was just like….. “Nah this Anon is totally right. I NEED to write Yone with at least one daughter! That’s too cute of a thought.”

Dad!Heartsteel Aphelios Headcanon: This I’m changing up from the pregnant!reader format I’ve been doing for the others. @milksuu (who I’m a big fan of) has such an EXCELLENT one of these for Aphelios already and I really don’t think I could/would add or change much of anything. So for this we’re doing Aphelios with a partner (reader) who is already a single parent!

NSFW Reader distracting Heartsteel!Yone to get attention when it’s fucking late and he’s working.

Non-requested WiPs (will work on as inspired):

Base-lore!Aphelios and Lunari Healer!Reader: I have the concept written down but I need to make an outline and such. I think this might be my next multi-chapter fic?

Something with Base-lore!Yone: This is just a brewing concept at the moment. A little angsty?

NSFW One-shot sequel to The One That Can Break My Heart (My FWB/Base-lore!Ezreal multi-chapter fic): 👀 Like I said in one of the chapters, I enjoy this universe and want to go back to it. Maybe my first attempt at writing smut. Lord help us all.

Kisses with Heartsteel Headcanons: I’m keeping the requested first kiss headcanon to just first kisses. This is more kisses in general.

Heartsteel with a fellow musically-gifted partner Headcanons: Listen as someone who was professionally trained in singing (pro choir and voice lessons), as well as took piano and viola lessons, I’m so excited to write this??

Heartsteel cuddle Headcanons

What it’s like to sleep with Heartsteel Headcanons: As in literally sleep in a bed with each member. SFW!

Some Headcanons for Arcane!Viktor: I haven’t written for him NEARLY enough.

I hope you’re looking forward to what is coming. I know I am! ☺️💙

[its-no-biggie]

okay i just went back and rewatched all the scenes from this season involving dazai and/or chuuya, now that i know that chuuya was pretending to be a vampire the whole time, because. i was possessed by the soukoku brainrot. anyway 10/10 recommend, knowing what theyre actually up to adds so much flavour

first off. dazais whole "chuuya, wake up. our fate will not end here" monologue is SO funny now. his dramatic ass deliberately planted himself in front of a camera and put on a show for fyodor. no wonder chuuya cut him off partway through lmfao he is SO sick of him. i would also bet that chuuya shooting him in the shoulder wasnt part of the plan (bc lets face it, he fucking would), and thats why dazai yelled and cursed him out- because he genuinely wasnt expecting it. of course it could all be part of the show, but its VERY funny to imagine that chuuya was like "hey i bet i could shoot this bastard right now and play it off like it was part of the act" and then just did it. i hate them so much

theres also the chuuya drowning monologue. now, i think its safe to say that dazai knew how that was gonna shake down, given that he clearly knows chuuyas powers better than fyodor, and he couldve reasonably predicted that fyodor would catch on in time to make an escape plan. which means this one was also completely for the drama of it. however, if you wanna get a little angsty about it, dazai is basically trusting that fyodor will save chuuya here. hes deliberately trying to kill both of them and if fyodor isnt clever enough to escape, he just killed chuuya while chuuya was IN DISGUISE TO HELP HIM and COMPLETELY AWARE OF WHATS HAPPENING. do you think there was any part of dazai that considered that these could be his last words to chuuya? he does seem to be genuinely reflecting on their history, given the flashbacks that play in the background (although that could just be for the viewer, of course, and not a reflection of his actual thoughts) so...... it might not be ENTIRELY for show. but maybe im just saying that bc i want to believe that dazai was being at least a little bit genuine when he straight up admitted- OUT LOUD- that they do actually understand each other and have a genuine connection even though they dont get along. because holy shit

one last thing. when dazai reveals that chuuya stopped the bullet and goes "we used to do this all the time, remember?" ????? hello?????? like i know chuuya has stopped bullets plenty of times. but stopping them RIGHT at someones skull, especially DAZAIS where the gravity manipulation would vanish as soon as it touches him..... how many times have you needed to do that?? and why????? like its just casually so fucking chaotic, i love references to their past like that because it can be easy to forget the kind of shit they got up to. i should rewatch the arc where they first met.......

anyway this has more than made up for the lack of chuuya content. knowing that chuuya was aware the whole time and pretending to be a vampire...... and that dazai knew that and was just putting on a show...... i will be going insane about this forever. theyre literally soulmates theyre desperate to kill each other theyre so fucking dramatic i want to hit them with my car. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[roseworth]

hi lauren 😌 ok if dc were to ever make the elusive jason and rose outlaws team, who would you choose as the third member

hiiiiii im sorry this took a few days to get to i put a lot of thought into it <///3

so first of all. my #1 dream outlaws team is jason rose connor kara lorena. im not even exaggerating when i say i have thought about this team (whose dynamics i mostly made up) at least once a day for MONTHS. i know some of those characters being on a team together doesnt make sense but you just have to trust me. it all makes sense in my rich inner world. and someday i may get into it but i have a lot to say

but if im abiding by outlaws tradition of a trio. i have multiple options of who besides jay & rose.

eddie: obvious answer. hes been friends with both of them so its very common to put him in outlaws. HOWEVER.... i dont really see him as an outlaw. im including him in this list because i like the idea of the three of them together but i dont think he would really fit on an outlaws team. hes kinda just a normal hero and i dont think he would be super into the whole idea of killing people the way jason and rose do

kyle: i just think that the dynamic of jason rose & kyle would be SO funny. disasters. rose with kyle is "he was nice to me like 8 years ago so hes my best friend forever" while jason and kyle. you know. are the most annoying people ever. plus kyles views on killing are sorta "i dont do it unless i really want to but i think its cool" so he would tolerate them

steph: this would be so much fun. mwsl gave me minor crumbs of a jason rose & steph team up and i havent been the same since. steph can be a little bit murderous as a treat and jason & rose are enablers. idk i just think being an outlaw could be good for her

roy: HEAR ME OUT. SHUT UP AND HEAR ME OUT. i could fix rhato roy. my thought is roy post-cry for justice where hes mourning his daughters death and pushing everyone else away. and jason & rose go "quit your job join our emo band" and he becomes an outlaw bc he wants to be Angsty and Away From Heroes but jason & rose are like "sweet we have a responsible adult now 👍" and. roy cannot be around people younger than him without accidentally becoming an older brother figure. also roy & rose make me go crazy so im doing this for ME

eddie fyers: this popped into my head as i talked about eddie bloomberg earlier and i cant stop thinking about it. can you fucking imagine

artemis: yeah yeah she was already an outlaw. but what if she was again in a cooler more homosexual way. jason & artemis had a good dynamic sometimes in rhato 2016 when lobdell wasnt being weird, and rose & artemis would be so much fun given that rose loves to pick fights and artemis would be able to pick her up and throw her. to me it would be good and i want these two to interact

grace choi: okay listen. i just really liked her in outsiders 2003. as a treat to me i think she should be worse. canon toxic dyke getting worse because of a non canon toxic dyke and her boytoy freak

dana harlow: DANA COME BACK. she was the best ever for the two (2) issues shes been in. and rose & dana would be soooooo good and i need it so bad

but ideal jason & rose dynamic is this↓ so maybe its better for everyone if they have a red hood & ravager team up. hand in unlovable hand.

[itwoodbeprefect]

catching up!! watching 911 season 7 episode 1!! let's goooo

the first three minutes of this episode are like "athena watched a cruise ship disaster on tv and it affected her for life. here's a cruise ship disaster we're putting on your tv (hehehe)."

i briefly stop watching mayday/air crash investigation episodes, only to STILL see a plane crash into a house. let's get greg feith and his excellent colorful ties in here asap

okay not actually technically relevant but. i googled "greg feith ties" and found this:

and the answer is no!! shut up!!

anyway. bi buck and his bi saw! (i may be too early.)

ahhh, the face i've already seen a dozen times:

buck was missed. <3

god, i love chimney. presumably this honeymoon life plan of his isn't going to work out perfectly smoothly, but it's adorable.

athena's dress is great, but this is a prime Just Talk To Bobby Please sort of worry she's having. i mean, literally, talk to him, and she'll probably find they do have things to talk about.

THREE DATES A WEEK. yeah, there we go (affectionate), that's gonna be a mess. very sweet, very stupid!

a spreadshEET. i love themmm. still very stupid though!!

"except only in one case is there underlying sexual tension [sprays using phallic looking object at hip height]" is definitely a little insane, you were all correct. also EXTREMELY a conversation that feels like they knew what they were doing, considering i now know where this is going

eddie is a nester! he nests!

christopher doesn't get this from eddie, implying he gets it from buck somehow. feelingssss.

god. buck taking save the trees a bit too figuratively:

throwing the champagne glasses to the side while you're in the pool is i guess a cool carefree no fucks given thing to do in theory, but it's going to be so much less cool and carefree when you step in the glass while walking around barefoot later. i mean, on top of the waste of a perfectly good glass

i HAD seen the angsty mom-left-us (and eddie is listening in) part of the buck&chris conversation, but not the entire part before it with buck very earnestly trying to find his way through this parenting talk eddie enlisted him for, and it's great, i love it.

"i feel like you're trying to avoid me." < thank you for Saying The Thing, bobby.

lola is resting..... this man has blood behind his ear...... this is 911...... he killed lola?

"i don't think we're gonna see much of lola any time soon." oh, she's VERY dead. and/or locked in their cabin, which would potentially be good and dramatic when the ship starts sinking

he made a list!! love you, bobby

athena going full "norman peterson murdered his wife!!!" and bobby being very convinced that he didn't and athena is making things up to avoid him is a) finally a funny turn for this subplot and b) even funnier in light of bobby's behavior in the rear window episode.

"... o-or he murdered his wife." i love when this show does comedy and the timing is just right. thank you, peter krause

one of the things about this show that i still think was a terrible writing choice is the way they killed shannon, so i'm glad they're at least dealing with the impact all of the parental shuffling and absence had on christopher. it's great that they brought the actress back for that one moment.

"did i read the spreadsheet wrong?", reminding me of the spreadsheet, and "did something else happen on a call?", meaning maddie immediately knows what would have changed chimney's mind again - maddie and chimney are flawless, no notes.

THEY took lola!! so that's how the ship activity manager or whatever that guy with the weird vibe's job is will turn out to be evil and/or in evil cahoots with lola

dongle. i haven't heard that word in forever. didn't know they were being used for bitcoin

oh, 911. just a ship in a weather-related emergency isn't enough, we also need terrorists holding everyone hostage. at times i could almost start to think i was watching h50

[qapsiel]

Positivity anon here! Could I ask you to shout out to your five fave blogs? Just to make someone smile today and let them know you love their blog! Maybe even say a little about why!

I'm more than happy to spread positivity and love, and I'll totally ignore the audacity to only give me 5 blogs and just do more hehe

I'm gonna start with @ruinedmyself because Kas was one of the first people to talk to me when I ventured into the spn fandom, and they've done nothing but make me feel incredibly welcomed <3 I love our silly little chats and also the pain we inflict on each other regularly. We really do share one (1) braincell, and I wouldn't want it any other way. You've got such a fantastic grip on Sam, on his badass-ery but also his softer and goofier side, and I scream excitedly whenever I see I got a reply from you!

No Sam without Dean, obviously, so I gotta yell about @bloodsalted a bit. Dixon is an extremely friendly person, and I'm still glad I managed to sweet-talk force you into joining me in hell. Or heaven, I suppose, is the better word, because our interactions are truly GREAT. Whether it's sexy times or angsty shit, every reply is magnificent and makes me giggle. You write Dean in all facets that make his character so lovable: his fears and passions and his silly times and also his anger. I love him to pieces!

Who doesn't love the king of hell? Cas, probably, but I adore every interaction with @murderdeals because it enables me to use all the pissed-off Cas icons. When you write Crowley, I can hear Mark yell into my ear. And honestly, I would have never guessed that Cas and Cain could become such good buddies, and yet they somehow ended up being the bestest bee bros, and that's largely due to your fantastic writing and your excellent grip on a character that can easily be branded the villain without second-guessing.

@singersalvaged should always be included in my rant about lovable people because she's just so chill to talk to! A truly great person who has an amazing view of Bobby Singer and writes him in a way that makes me believe the guy is standing behind me muttering idjit whenever I read a reply. And Allie! Let me gush about Allie, who's Cas' weed friend and brothel companion, and every single interaction just makes me howl with laughter. They're absolutely unhinged and dumb, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

While Crowley makes Cas want to eat glass, @eyeless-smiles makes him want to tear his own ears off because Corinth is such a fucking asshole (affectionate), a True Nightmare, and I love seeing him annoy Cas in every single paragraph. It's just hilarious, and they never hold their muse back, which is refreshing these days!

Cas loves to steal kids (just look at Jack), so it didn't take long for him to steal @innerwar 's Homelander when he was still a child with Vought. And honestly, I just adore this verse and you, friend? It's so funny and yet also sad, and I'm just so unbelievably happy that Homie gets a better life with this and that Cas gets to be a Dad again, and your writing is just SO FANTASTIC and catches Homelander's young voice brilliantly. 

I gotta yell about @nightmdic really loudly for a second because she is a FREAKING MAGNIFICENT OC and both Cas and I love her to pieces. She's kind and nice and helps Cas through his forced humanity without finding him (too) weird, and Paige just casually managed to write one of my favorite OCs here on Tumblr with her eye for detail and well-chosen words 

And last but not least, a big shoutout to @bleakfated who writes a lot of different spn muses (among others) and yet manages to hit that nail (= the voice of every single muse) square on the head every time! I hear Balthazar's funny-ironic voice when I write with him, I see Jody being Mom when I interact with her, I get the British Mick Vibes when it's his time to shine. I'm in awe of how someone manages to juggle so many muses and give everyone their own little voice. Kudos!

[beanghostprincess]

I can't really decide if Usopp would hate Sanji's smoking habit or simply not care.

I mean it would be funny that he hides and throws away his boyfriend's cigarettes to the point where Sanji has to hide his cigarettes from Usopp so he doesn't hide them from him and the way Usopp just visually coughs any time he smells the slightest bit of smoke from him (or anywhere honestly, he's a bit of a drama queen) to make him at least a bit embarrassed (failed miserably) or when all of Sanji's hidden goods are suddenly gone in the middle of the sea (which may or may not be his boyfriend's doing) and they weren't going to arrive to any island for a few days so he had to hold onto the two little stumps he had left and just going into a straight up withdrawal and asking everyone if they smoked and falling into deeper desperation each time he heard a "no" and how Usopp would mock him and tell him "That's what you get, loser" and yes this is kind of cruel but he has no business smoking 24/7 killing his lungs like that he basically smells of smoke and I'm sure even tastes like smoke and I do not want to even think of the effect it has on his teeth.

Fun fact, my brother and I used to do that (throwing away my mom's cigarettes) so she stopped smoking. Well, my brother did that so she would stop smoking. I did that only to fuck with her, ngl.

And okay, this whole concept is extremely hilarious because I just got another ask talking about Usopp smoking and Sanji finding out casually and it's just,,, So funny. But I like both concepts a lot!! This one feels so funny to talk about and extremely canon, too. (OP's future note: I made this sad. I am sorry)

Like Usopp would hate Sanji smoking this much, right? He doesn't hate that he smokes (they're pirates and can do whatever they want, so of course he won't be telling him to stop smoking) but he hates that he does it constantly. All the time. He's fucking up his lungs and also the whole ship smells like cigarettes and his clothes too and Usopp is sick of trying to kiss him and tasting that in his mouth. And it's not THAT disgusting because Usopp is used to it and, after all, it's what reminds him of Sanji. It's a Sanji thing. But he's worried about his well-being and he wishes Sanji would at least only smoke like 2 cigarettes a day and not a whole fucking pack.

So he asks Chopper for advice because he's the doctor here and will probably know what to do when it comes to an addiction like this one. Chopper tells him that the only way to end an addiction is to go through a process of either gradually quitting or just directly stopping, but the latter might have more side effects due to the need to smoke all the time. After all, it is a drug.

But of course, Usopp is a drama queen and he goes all in with this elaborate plan to throw away all the cigarettes Sanji has and is all dramatic when he smokes close to him. Which is- Okay, I am actually not on Usopp's side here so I'm gonna make it a bit angsty. I am evil. *Evil laughter*.

Usopp keeps doing that every time he finds Sanji's cigarettes and whenever they go to an island and he tries to buy them. Sanji has been smoking less and less and less because he doesn't have any cigarettes left and it's driving him insane. Like- It's genuinely affecting him badly and Usopp is too caught up in his own morals and trying to be the good boyfriend he thinks he's being to realize that.

Sanji can't sleep well anymore. He's eating more because he has cravings he didn't have before. He's more anxious and way more irritable, which only makes him fight Zoro constantly (more than usual. Imagine the chaos). He can't even concentrate when cooking. And tbh his intrusive thoughts are coming back because what helped him concentrate and avoid them was smoking and doing something with his hands (why do you think he smokes so much??? That's his unhealthy coping mechanism, your honor).

And Usopp tries to act like everything is normal and like he's doing a good thing because he has no idea what Sanji is going through. He thinks it's just a lil punishment that won't last long. But it does last. And it is affecting Sanji a lot. And of course, the cook ends up snapping because there's no fucking way he can handle this anymore. And it's out of nowhere (from Usopp's perspective) because Sanji is just trying to cook and Usopp is on the kitchen table doing his own thing with his bombs. And he's making noises, but just the usual ones. The ones Sanji has never complained about. But it's bothering the cook anyway, for once, and it drives him wild to the point of turning around and yelling:

"Could you stop doing that?!"

"Wha- Doing what?"

"The little clingclingcling the fucking explosions your humming just- Shut up! I'm trying to cook for this whole crew and you're making it pretty fucking impossible!"

"You never had a problem with me being here before."

"I never had a problem with you at all before, so I guess there's a first time for everything!"

"... Are you alright, Sanji?"

"Oh! Why wouldn't I be, Usopp? I'm perfectly fine. Awesome, even. Since I quit smoking everything has been perfect!"

"Really?"

"Of course not, you moron! I've never been more fucked up in my whole life, why would you do this to me? Did- Did I hurt you somehow? Is this a punishment? Karma? What do you want from me? I'll do it, just- Stop this."

"Sanji, honey, I'm just doing this for your own good because-"

"For MY own good? Are you sure about that, Usopp? MY own good? Who do you think you are to decide that for me?"

"I don't know, your boyfriend, maybe?!"

"Usopp. I- I love you, okay? But you're making it really, really hard for me not to say some things I- Smoking is what keeps me going, Usopp, I can't quit it-"

"Of course you can! You stopped smoking a week ago-"

"And it has been the worst week of my entire life, Usopp. You can't just decide this for me I- This is what makes me feel I have control over my life! It's not the best but it's what I have and we're supposed to be pirates, don't we? Let me-"

"What? Let you fuck up your lungs only because it makes you feel a bit better? You'll die way before that!"

"But it's up to me to decide!"

"When you have people that love you, it's not up to you to decide if you die or not! You're always doing this! You did this in Skypiea and Whole Cake and- And you take so little care of yourself I had to do something!"

"Well, it's not working! You could've talked to me, maybe?!"

"You never listen!"

"Because you never talk! Why would you do this-"

"Because I'm in love with you and I don't want you to die! If you feel bad, you come to me. You don't need to destroy your lungs when I'm right here! You're not alone anymore, Sanji!"

"..."

"I just care about you, okay? I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this without asking and I didn't know it would make you feel this bad but- But I just care about you and I understand if you want to break up-"

"I don't want to break up with you, dumbass. I just- Let me do this my own way? Stop smoking, I mean- I- I'm sorry, too. I just really need to. To stop thinking for a while."

"... I didn't throw away all your cigarettes. I still have a few I haven't-"

"No. No, mon coeur. Just- Do you want to go fish? Or- What new bombs were you making? Tell me about them. I'll probably have that cigarette later, though."

And then Chopper scolds Usopp for his behavior (of fucking course) because you can't just stop smoking suddenly like that. And Sanji starts smoking again but less and less every day with Usopp keeping an eye on him! I am very sad now after writing this! I'm gonna go cry! <3

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Plastic Hearts

Chapter Four: Hate Me

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!oc (violet)

chapter rating: E (no explicit smut, just tiddies out and penis talk, mentions of insecurity, body image issues, substance use, arguments, angsty ending bc these two are sad bbs)

word count: 4.7k

series masterlist

“Good Morning America, we are back from commercial break with the absolutely stunning Violet Apollo.” The all-too cherry news anchor smiled widely at Violet as she sat across from her and her co-anchor. “How are you doing this morning, Violet? I know you must’ve had a wild night last night after your partner hosted Saturday Night Live.”

“Wasn’t too wild, thankfully. I was back in my bed before midnight, so I’m feeling pretty okay today. I downed a few shots of espresso and now I couldn’t close my eyes if I wanted to.” Violet joked, intentionally leaving out the part where she was woken up in the middle of the night to her “boyfriend” getting sucked off by a model right in front of her.

“Look at you being responsible,” the man playfully teased and she faked a laugh at that. “How about Dieter? He had a lot to celebrate, I bet he’s feeling it today.”

“Uh, yeah. He’s still asleep back at the hotel.” Violet tried not to sound bitter, but she knew that a crack was beginning to form in the carefully crafted mask she’d been wearing her entire career—and all from one little heartbreak. “He was so good on SNL last night, can we give him a moment? So good.”

“He was! I didn’t know he was that funny, he’s always so serious.”

“Yeah, is he always that funny around you? Is that one of the things that drew you to him?” The female anchor asked with a head tilt, Violet feeling the urge to scream building inside of her with every mention of Dieter. But this was a part of the job and she was gonna fucking do it.

“He does alright,” she chuckled and shrugged. “I’m definitely more of the comedian, I’d say. But truthfully, we’re both just talkers. I think that’s what makes us so good together. We love talking to each other.”

“You know what they say, communication is key.” The man chimed in with a winning smile before looking down at his notes. “Alright, enough about boys—” Cringe. “Let’s talk your new film.”

“Yes, let’s.” Violet nodded and gave them both a more genuine smile, glad to be off the subject of Dieter for a bit.

“Violet stars in Steven Spielberg’s new epic based on the ancient Greek love story of Persephone and Hades, titled: Pomegranate. Violet, you play Persephone in the film alongside Thomas Doherty as Hades. What was it like embodying a character like that?”

“I’ve always loved Persephone and have found the many iterations of their love story captivating long before I ever took on this role, but stepping into her shoes a bit, it sort of just felt like I was playing myself in a way.” Violet shrugged and smiled bashfully. “She’s sort of this tragic yet fierce character that I think a lot of the time is sort of underestimated and misunderstood and seen as someone almost needing to be saved from this underworld, but, at least in the film and in my own idea of her, it couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s an incredibly strong and fierce woman and I think the audience is going to love seeing that portrayed on screen, or at least I hope they do.”

“How was it working with Thomas? I saw him in The Invitation and fell head over heels in love with him,” the woman confessed, earning a chuckle from Violet.

“He’s so sweet and kind, and very good looking, obviously. He was just the absolute best scene partner, and neither of us have worked with someone as big as Spielberg before, so it was nice to sort of go through that experience together.”

“Well, we can’t wait to see it. Thank you for stopping by, Violet, we loved having you here this morning.” Violet nodded and gave them her best smiles, mumbling a shy ‘thank you’. “When we come back—is it possible your dog sees you as it’s parent? A new study shows it’s more likely than you might think. More when we return.”

“Alright, thank you both so much for having me.” Violet shook both of the news anchors hands before being rushed off backstage by her manager, Maria. “Did you get breakfast?”

“Yeah, it’s waiting in your dressing room.”

“I meant for yourself! You’ve been running around all morning, I haven’t even seen you stop to get a coffee.” Violet eyed the older woman, the bags under her eyes, the stress weighing down her shoulders. She tried not to ask for much or weigh her down any further with any demands or unnecessary drama, but it didn’t matter. The woman was a non-stop workaholic.

“I’m fine,” she assured with a smile, opening Violet’s dressing room for her and following her in. Violet got right to work eating her fast food breakfast, not caring about calories or nutrition as she enjoyed her McGriddle. “So how did last night go?”

“It went,” Violet spoke in a dry tone, rolling her eyes. “Dieter had a great show and a good night, that’s all that matters, right?”

“You matter too,” Maria interjected with a maternal look of concern. “Look, I appreciate how drama-free you are as a client, but as a person—you’ve gotta learn to stand up for yourself. For the way you feel.”

“I stood up for myself, I promise. Now, no more lectures or talking about Dieter. I just wanna eat my McDonalds in peace before I go back to the hotel. Okay?” Violet gave her a pleading look, Maria nodding and letting it go, choosing to scroll through her emails for the remainder of Violet’s breakfast before walking her out to the car waiting for her and seeing her off for the day.

To say that Dieter Bravo lived rent free in her mind would be an understatement. Dieter owned it—wrecked it. All that she could think about was him and his stupid fucking penis and what he was doing with it and why it wasn’t her he’d been doing it with.

It should’ve disgusted her, seeing Dieter with another woman, the way his hands stroked over her hair as she sat on her knees for him, but when she replayed the scene in her head, it was almost as though the other woman was never there to begin with.

All she could imagine was herself down on the ground in front of him, pleasing him, taking everything he had to give, hearing him moan her name just like he had on accident. That one little sentence had been lodged inside her fucking ears, replaying all morning as she tried to tune it out.

Oh fuck, Violet. Over and over. Nonstop. The cracked moan of her name punctuating the sentence she never thought she’d get to hear.

Violet knew that sex with Dieter should be off the table, scrapped completely and burned, and yet, she was still just a woman. She had needs—deep, longing, shameful needs—and the more she thought about his girth, his length, the fat tip of his cock, the way it curved up like it was designed to please, the harder it was to keep those needs at bay.

Perhaps there was a way that she could get what she wanted while not having to deal with her lack of trust for the dude. They could fuck sometimes the same way that they kiss sometimes, when one of them needed it, the other provided a friendly service, no strings attached. But every time she played out the fantasy in her mind, she could feel her imaginary self slipping up, forgetting her place, falling for a man unable to love her the way she craved. The sex could never be worth the ache of his rejection—so, celibacy it was.

For now.

•••

Dieter woke up with a startle as polite knocks sounded on the door to the fake couple’s penthouse suite, his head throbbing with each thud on the wood. He groaned as though he was an ancient vampire forced into daylight after centuries of rest, rubbing his temples and reaching for his sunglasses as he stood upright. He swayed a bit, still drunk and high, but carried himself forward, knowing that if he didn’t stop the housekeepers from entering, they’d do it on their own accord.

Dieter swallowed the vomit creeping up his esophagus before cracking the door open and sticking his face in it, hardly able to make out the housekeeper’s face through his own turmoil. “Please…no more knocking…I’m begging you.”

“W-would you like me to change the linens or leave them at the door, sir?” The woman seemed to recognize him, her eyes looking everywhere but directly at him. Dieter usually thought it was pretty funny to see people try to play off their starstruck panic, but today it only irritated him.

“Just—“ He stopped himself from speaking as the first word came out too harsh. No need to fuck her day up just because he was having a hard time. Dieter accepted the new linens and set them down on the bench right inside the entryway, reaching into the pocket of his robe and grabbing his wallet, flicking through smaller bills to find a hundred dollar bill and handing it over to her. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you, sir,” she gave him a grateful smile but he couldn’t be bothered to show any more kindness than he already had. Dieter closed the door on her and slugged his way over to the sofa, plopping down too hard, reigniting his headache.

Dieter sat facing Violet’s closed bedroom door, stuck in a daze as he thought back to the night before. He had no idea that she was standing there, watching him, but to say that it hadn’t been his inebriated intention for her to find them would be a lie. Of course he knew better than to get his dick sucked in their common space, the lewd sounds registering in his mind the entire time as too loud, but perhaps a part of him wanted her to see. Wanted to see that he was desirable.

Now, the name slip—that hadn’t been planned.

Overwhelmed by his regrets and the desire that still lingered inside of him, he pulled out his phone and ordered way too much takeout—pizza, Chinese, a bit of sushi, way too many fucking cookies from his favorite spot in the city—hoping that if he indulged himself enough, the itch to add her to the list would go away.

But just to be sure, Dieter pulled out his stash and went to town, smoking bowl after bowl, joint after joint, until he’d reached the ceiling of how high he could get.

…And then he reached for the decanter of whiskey in the kitchen. Just to be sure.

•••

It was around noon when Violet finally willed herself to stop stalling at Sephora, binge shopping her emotions away. Carrying two of the largest black and white striped bags she’d ever seen, she unlocked the door to the suite and was immediately hit with the smell of weed and takeout.

“Jesus,” she whispered as she spotted Dieter passed out on the sectional, a cup of whiskey in one hand and a piece of pizza on his bare stomach. “Dieter?”

She was surprised he didn’t wake up at the sound of his name being called, her voice far from quiet. “Dieter? Hello? Are you fucking alive?”

Still, no movement from the actor. In a last bid attempt at waking him without having to go over and touch him, Violet walked over to her bedroom door, opening it before slamming it closed again.

Dieter sprang to life, breathing in a quick inhale through his nose as he looked over the rim of his sunglasses at her. Violet stood with a disappointed look on her face, arms crossed over her chest.

“Could you slam it any louder? I’m not sure they heard you in Brooklyn.” Dieter grumbled as his headache set back in, the high now only making him exhausted. He peeled the piece of pizza off his stomach and slapped it down on top of the box, eyes remaining in a squint even with his sunglasses shielding most of the light.

“This is disgusting, Dieter.” Violet felt obligated to help sort this mess out—literally, at least. With a suck of her teeth, she set down her bags and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a black trash bag and carrying it over to the living room.

“You don’t have to clean up my mess,” Dieter sighed and reached for the bag but she withheld it, this stern, almost warning glare on her face the entire time. Dieter watched as she shoved the pizza box into the bag last, tying it up and leaving it by the door.

Surprisingly, Violet didn’t stop there. No, she needed it to be spotless.

“You gonna talk or just pretend like nothing happened?” Dieter probed as Violet wiped down the coffee table with disinfectant wipes, the smell of citrus slowly replacing the smell of weed and marinera sauce. When he was met with no response, he chuckled and shook his head. “Look, I’ll start. I shouldn’t have been doing that in our common area—“

“Can you lift that?” She pointed to a book on the coffee table, her hand holding the wipe waiting next to it. Dieter scoffed as he lifted the book, Violet wiping over it a few times before he set it back down again.

“Violet, I’m trying to apologize,” he reasoned, eyes glued to her every feature to try and get a read on her but she was too fucking good at hiding behind a mask.

“You don’t need to apologize, Dieter. Shit happens.” Violet tossed the used wipes into the trash bag before grabbing one of his joints and leaving him alone to go smoke on the balcony. Dieter didn’t last long before he got up and walked outside to join her, the sound of the glass door sliding open making Violet groan. “Dieter, I’m begging—“

“I shouldn’t have fucked someone else—“ Violet quirked an eyebrow at him, causing him to panic and blurt out an unplanned second half of the sentence. “…in our common area.”

“Right. Whatever. Fuck who you want, where you want, Dieter.” Violet chuckled, rolling her eyes as she handed the joint over to him. “I’m going out.”

“Or you could stay and we could talk about things. I once had an overpriced therapist tell me that’s important in relationships!” Dieter called out but Violet pretended not to hear him, simply grabbing her purse and leaving the suite without another word. Dieter let his eyes close as the door thumped closed, sighing as he stood alone on the balcony with a half-smoked joint in hand. “Way to fucking go, Bravo.”

•••

“So…Dieter Bravo, huh?” Sam, one of Violet’s childhood friends and current broadway actress sat on the opposite side of her sofa, Violet groaning at the mention of the man she was attempting to avoid. “How the hell’d that happen?”

“It’s not…not for real,” she confessed, knowing that if there were only one person in this world she could trust, it would be Sam. “Just until my movie comes out and his reputation is salvaged.”

“That’s Hollywood, baby!” Sam chuckled as she stood up and walked into her kitchen, the small studio layout allowing Violet to continue the conversation.

“Sometimes I feel like I should’ve never left New York. Should’ve stayed here and did theater with you. Maybe then I’d be happier—“

“You’re not sad because of where you live, babe. You’re sad because of how you’re living.” She brought back two glasses of wine, handing one to Violet before sitting down. “At some point you’re going to break, and this pretty little mask you’ve made for yourself is gonna crack. It’s too much pressure for a person to pretend to be as perfect as you try to be constantly.”

“Yes,” she sighed, chuckling at her own problems. “It’s fucking exhausting. Every single part of it. And what fucking sucks is that for the first time in so fucking long, I started to feel like maybe someone understood me. And then I woke up to the fucker getting head in the kitchen.”

“What?” She gasped and nearly choked on her wine, placing her hand over her heart. “You didn’t tell me about that!”

“Yeah, I’ve been actively trying to avoid talking about myself, Samantha.” Violet chuckled and shrugged, looking off to the side as she tried to word herself right. “I have feelings for Dieter fucking Bravo. I can admit that to you because I know you won’t judge me.”

“I’m more so curious as to what’s drawing you in? I mean, a handsome face only goes so far.”

“Exactly! That’s—yes!” Violet shouted enthusiastically, laughing at her theatrics as she stood up with her wine glass in hand. “He’s a fucking little raccoon of a man and I want to fuck him so bad. None of it makes sense. The fucker is nice to me sometimes. That’s it. No other redeemable qualities besides his dick.”

“Is it nice?” Sam asked, raising her eyebrows with a grin. Violet groaned loudly and flopped back down onto the sofa.

“So nice. It’s huge. Although, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll be good, right?” Violet asked with a bit of hopefulness in her tone, earning another laugh from her friend.

“Right. It could be huge and mouthwatering and absolutely terrible at pleasing you. That’s totally possible.” Violet squinted at her as Sam weighed her head to the side and took a sip of her wine. “Or it could be the best dick you’ll ever have.”

“Fuck you. No. Definitely not.” Violet frowned as she faced forward, her mind now filled with images of his cock coming all over the tile of their kitchen floor. “Well—maybe.”

•••

“Hey,” Dieter practically jumped onto his feet as Violet walked into the suite around 8 p.m., a timid smile on his face as he eyed her carefully.

“‘Sup,” Violet nodded her head at him casually as she grabbed the untouched shopping bags from Sephora and carried them into her room without another word.

“Sup?” Dieter repeated with an irritated scrunch of his face, looking around the room at nobody with his palms up in disbelief. “Fuck it. She’s done, then so am I.”

Dieter had longed to take a line of the powdery white substance sitting in his coat pocket all day long, but out of desire to be better for her, he’d refrained. But now that it was as clear as day that Violet was through with even engaging with him as an acquaintance, he had nothing to abstain for.

Walking into his bedroom, he let the door slam as he reached into his coat pocket and set out three neat lines for himself in the bathroom, taking in a deep breath before snorting them off the countertop.

It didn’t take long for Dieter’s pity party to turn into an actual party—of one.

Dieter spun around in his bedroom to Madonna’s hit single, “Express Yourself”, the song blaring on the hotel’s impressive speaker system. Dieter was as high as a kite, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand that was surely spilling everywhere but he didn’t care.

“Come on, girls! Do you believe in love? 'Cause I've got something to say about it. And it goes something like this,” Dieter shouted along to the intro, twirling around the room, using the belt to his robe as a boa of sorts. “Don't go for second best, baby. Put your love to the test. You know, you know you've got to make him express how he feels and maybe then you'll know your love is real.”

Violet was drunk when she got back to the hotel, Dieter’s attempt at conversation squashed immediately over the simple fact that she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

She tried to take her mind off both her drunken state and her desire to weep by smoking a little bit more and practicing some of the yoga she once made a resolution to do every single day but hadn’t attempted since the second week of January.

Starting off slow, she tried to tap into her spirituality, or what little remained of it, taking mindful breaths, trying to tune out the blaring 90’s pop from the other side of the suite. All her efforts to find peace and meditation were futile, Dieter’s pitchy singing now doubling the volume of the music.

Violet let out a deep, guttural groan at his antics, the mask slipping finally and exposing the tangled web of emotions beneath it. With a huff and a determined stare, Violet left her bedroom and stomped over to his, pounding on the door.

“Bravo!” She called over the blaring music, fist beating on the door until it opened.

Dieter stood there with a wide grin, his sunglasses tipped low on his nose. He was wearing just a pair of boxers underneath his fluffy, brown coat. Seeing him so at ease ignited something inside her—anger seemed too soft of a word to use for the way her skin burned with irritation, both at him and herself.

“Hi—“

“You are the most selfish, insufferable, dirty little man I have ever had the punishment of having to be around! All you do is think of yourself and do whatever you want, not giving a shit about anybody else! I wish I could properly articulate how fucking irritating you are, Dieter!” Violet screamed over “Groove Is In The Heart”, Dieter staring blankly at her with parted lips and glassy eyes. “God, and you just stand there and look so fucking stupid! Are you even fucking listening?”

“Yeah—“

“Ugh, I hate your smug little fucking voice and—“ She eyed him up, her anger quickly beginning to feel like arousal as she scanned the exposed skin of his torso, or perhaps her self-control had just snapped completely and she was now fully at the mercy of every one of her irresponsible desires. “Fuck it.”

Dieter grunted as Violet’s body clashed with his, her lips kissing his searingly as she walked him backwards to the armchair in the corner of his bedroom. Her tongue battled with his for dominance as she straddled his lap, Dieter’s hands frozen in place as his brain short-circuited.

“God, you’re so fucking frustrating. Just touch me,” Violet grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips, Dieter’s grip tightening as he forced himself of his disbelief and back into the moment.

Violet Apollo was sitting on his lap, kissing him, biting him, moaning for him. No matter how many times he imagined his first time with her, he never imagined her so…animalistic.

He always figured she’d be soft, gentle, romantic, but here she was tugging on his lip so hard he was whimpering for her, her hips grinding down against his lap. When she took her top off, unhooked her bra and revealed herself to him, he swore he’d reached heaven—but of course, something had to ruin it.

“Uh,” Violet ran her hand over his lap and furrowed her brows, not feeling anything hard at all no matter how hard she searched.

She’d seen his cock, if it was hard, she wouldn’t have even needed to reach for it to know it was there.

“Well that’s humbling,” she chuckled at herself and quickly scrambled off his lap, avoiding his eyes as she gathered her bra and top before rushing out of the room.

Violet couldn’t help but feel sickeningly embarrassed, quickly turning the lock on her bedroom door before she rushed into the shower still in her skirt and tights. The hot water rained down on her as she sobbed on the floor, her knees tucked close to her chest.

She’d finally put herself out there, exposing more of herself to him than she ever thought she would. And he couldn’t have been less into it, apparently.

Althroughout her childhood, adolescence, and even early adulthood, Violet struggled with the extra plushness she carried around her stomach—so much so that it wasn’t until she was twenty-three that she allowed a partner to see her naked with the lights on.

Violet knew it wasn’t Dieter’s fault that he wasn’t attracted to her, and she tried to reason with herself that he had every right to like the supermodel build rather than her curvy one, but no matter how many times she repeated it in her head, she couldn’t help the sting in her heart from the rejection.

Perhaps she read it all wrong between them, and all the kisses and flirting and long conversations were simply just something to do for him. Something to keep him from getting bored. Or, more depressing, maybe he was only attracted to her with her clothes on? Perhaps he hadn’t realized how curvy she was, and now that he’d seen it, he changed his mind?

Quickly shaking her head to clear her mind of her intrusive thoughts, she took a shaky but deep breath, gathering her composure. She stood up and peeled off her wet clothes, letting them slap against the floor of the shower before carrying on like normal, washing her hair and shaving her legs like nothing had ever happened at all. The mask was back on, and after tonight, it would likely never come off again.

•••

Dieter was left frozen and speechless, staying still long after he’d watched her run off to her bedroom and lock the door behind her, the sound of his 90’s dance playlist blaring in the background mostly washing away her sobs, but he could still hear them clear enough to ache for her.

Never in his life had he not been able to get it up. No matter the amount he had to drink, the amount of substances in his system, nothing had ever prevented him from performing. So why now?

He knew the answer, and god, did he wish he was simply just an old man with erectile dysfunction. His life would be a whole lot easier if that was the case, but of course, it wasn’t.

Dieter knew that the reason he couldn’t get hard for her was because he was panicking. Panicking because it was finally happening for them. Panicking because he was high during it. Panicking because he wasn’t ready like he wanted to be for her when they finally crossed that line. Panicking because he didn’t want to lose her over something as fucking silly as sex.

A part of him wanted to go over and apologize, try to explain himself to her, but the thought of confessing even a single one of those fears to her made him freeze all over again. He couldn’t open up, at least not now, not in this state of mind.

Dieter sat there, staring blankly ahead through his opened door and at her closed one, his music still playing, his body not having moved an inch, wondering why the fuck he couldn’t just be easy to love like everyone else seemed to be. He craved destruction too much, and feared anything too good to be true, preferring to ruin it before it could ruin him.

He’d gone so long without having to face the reality of his brokenness, but never in his life had he longed to love someone properly like this. It consumed him—his inadequacy mixing with his yearning. He wanted her, but every time he looked into her pretty brown eyes, he could only see all the reasons he shouldn’t have her.

In an act of determination, and a rare show of self-care and responsibility, Dieter reached for his phone and searched through his contacts until he found the number to his old therapist, the only one that he felt treated him like a human rather than a star.

DB: Need to make an appointment. I think I’m getting bad again.

Dr. Bradford: Hello, Dieter. I’m glad you reached out. Let’s set up a call tomorrow afternoon and you can tell me more about it.

DB: Sounds good, doc.

DB: Do I need to be sober?

Dr. Bradford: Yes, Dieter. Have a good night.

DB: Fine.

Even if he wasn’t good enough for her right now, it didn’t mean it needed to stay that way. And until he got better, Dieter vowed to try and salvage his friendship with her. Starting in the morning.

Right now he needed to cry in the shower to some Whitney Houston.

•••

dieter taglist: @browneyes-issac @wildemaven @laureliciousdefinition @trinkets01 @paulalikestuff @toomanystoriessolittletime @alwayslurkinginthebackground @pastelnap @fishingforpike @littlemisspascal @pedropascalsx (please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)

[tundralwhisper]

AAAARRRGGGHHH

Literally took a walk into the forest at 2:30am, despite my knee pain that gets worse after walking like 10 meters.

So, before I rant, ramble, and vent, the Context:

I DM a D&D game for friends, on the server where I met most of them. It's a server of about 400 people, though *maybe* 30 are actually active.

Donald J Trump got shot (unsurprising), and a friend (who is in the game) went into the server's "controversy" channel (a bad idea to even have that channel, ngl) and mentioned that this is gonna be a big danger for trans people, because the nutjobs supporting trump have just gotten the most intense incitement to violence imaginable. He may have made a little bit of an inflammatory remark on the matter

Another friend (who is also in the game) did NOT like that. And the conversation got *heated*. I joined, 2 other players joined (that's 4 out of 5, plus me). Over the course of the discussion, they dropped several instances of hate speech. Transphobic rhetoric, xenophobia, it was *BAD*. Mind you, one of the people in the game is literally an immigrant, and him and I are both not very cis.

Meanwhile, I was in a movie watchalong (American Werewolf in London, very funny movie tbh, kept me sane during this) while participating in the discussion.

I postponed D&D, trying to figure out how best to kick the nutjob. Then passed out for 12 hours.

Shit. Went. Down. Other mods got involved, jumped the gun on an announcement without reading the hate speech context, things got convoluted, two people left the server: The nutjob, and the immigrant friend.

I solved things in the end, by making a seperate server for the D&D game and inviting everyone over (except the nutjob, he specifically said he left the campaign, too).

So, bad situation. Not happy.

Now, the VENT PART!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHH GODS FUCK WHY FUCKIK I SLEPT FOR 12 HORUS AND SO M;UCH SHIT IMMEDIATEL WENT DOWN AND ALL THE OVERTHINGKING AND PLANS AND SHIT DID NOTHIGN TO HELP A'CAUSE I WAS ASLEEP FUCKIG SHIT FGUCK.

OKAY. Okay. Phew. I don't usually post anything, anywhere, without double and triple checking grammar and spelling. Not this time. FUCKING HELL.

Between postponing the D&D game I was making PLANS. I was THINKING, PLOTTING even. I was gonna get the other players' views on the nutjob, I was gonna write up a civil and calm message to send to the nutjob to kick him and be done with it, 'cause I didn't wanna cause drama across the active parts of the server.

And then, I just had to fucking pass out and assume things wouldn't implode for a couple hours at least. I passed out for 12 hours, and everything was fucked when I woke up. The drama had already extended beyond the group into server-wide drama, I had to abandon all my plans and improvise (I suck at that), and just. ARGH. I'm mad.

I'm mad. Actually, genuinely mad. Not even at the nutjob, he's a victim of propaganda. I'm mad at the "mod" (doesn't even have actual mod powers, barely qualifies as a mall cop for the server) that made a statement to spread the trouble so much further than it needed to be. Like, do you not *READ* something before you type a response? Are you out of your FUCKING mind?!

Like, people were mad not over the economics talk it fizzled out to, but over the ACTUAL FUCKING HATE SPEECH you absolute childish IMBECILE. "Be respectful, agree to disagree" IT WAS ABOUT HUMAN RIGHTS, THERE IS NO "DISAGREE" ON THAT YOU DUMB CENTRIST FUCKWIT.

At least he realized when he went back to read it - WHICH I HAD TO TELL HIM TO DO. Do you need a parent to carry your brain after you everwhere so you don't forget to fucking THINK, too?!

But also... it's sad to see that someone I thought a friend had fallen so deep into the propaganda, and someone else I considered a reasonable person turned out to be so fucking stupid as to not consider that context matters a lot.

I hate insulting people like this. Fuck, man. I'm gonna go sink into endless amounts of angsty music now, if anyone needs me try to search the woods near my house.

[ador3him]

HIII!! CONGRATS ON 150!! THATS SUCH A MILESTONE! I also have a request ! what about the promt “i wish i could love you, i know you’d be good for me, but i can’t.” + quackity??

pairing: Quackity x gn!reader

warnings: kinda angsty oooo also swearing

requested? yes by @hawaiidwt

word count: 749

a/n: FIRST POST FOR MY 150 EVENT OMLLLLLLL so basically i wanna just say that i will start the 24hr timer when I see the request not when you send it in because i dont have time notifications!! so I saw this one at 6:30AM AEST (15ish hrs ago) 

Y/ns smile stretches across their face as Quackity answers a fans’ question at the DSMP TwitchCon panel. y/n is obsessed with his dedication toward not only content creation but his studies at college.

Quackity isn’t obsessed with y/n in the same platonic way as they are with him, he admires y/n from afar and when he is close just acts as if they are best buds. Far too scared to flirt, let alone make a move. But today after the panel Quackity has convinced himself to at least flirt with them. Mainly because this is their first IRL meeting but also because he cannot stand the constant fear he lives under. He is always scared they will find out about his as he likes to call it ‘teeny tiny’ crush.

“Thank you all for coming down today! You mean so much to all of us here,” y/n spoke into the microphone then looks around to see if anyone else wants to say something. Nobody moves they all just smile nodding in agreement. Quackity then stands up and walks behind y/ns’ seat, pulling it from under them y/n lands on their ass. Quackity is bent over laughing along with the rest of the room – including y/n themselves. Sapnap offers a hand, so y/n pulls him down onto the floor with him and grabs Quackity’s hand to do it to him. But he is quicker, pulling on their arm forcefully making them fling up and stumble. Sapnap stands up and does a silly bow as if to say he was fine and its all-playful banter.

“Hey y/n! You did well today in the panel,” Quackity beams laying his arm around their shoulder as they walk together. “Obviously I am a natural,” they joke with him. “You were really funny in there!” they admit smiling at him.

“You know what we should do? Get some food, I heard the others were going for a Macca’s run but why don’t we maybe go somewhere else? Just us two!” He hesitantly asks whilst pulling his beanie down a bit with his free hand. “You know what Big Q? That sounds fun, but what if we order in from hotel service instead, I’m tired.” They suggest, he just nods smiling gleefully redirecting them both to the hotel.

 “I swear to god I am not watching some dumb rom-com, chic-flic, 90s-2000s movie,” Quackity groans at the sight of ‘Clueless’ on the screen. y/n eyes get soft and they slightly pout. “But Paul Rudd is in it! I love him so much!” They respond whining a bit. “No!” he groans motioning them to pick something else to watch.

“Ghostbusters but the new one!” y/n suggests grinning. “Doesn’t that have Paul Rudd in it?” Quackity raises his eyebrow a little knowing it does. y/n makes a ‘shushing’ motion with their finger and attempts to press play. “Come here we aren’t watching fucking Paul Rudd!” Quackity goes to grab the remote off them. Making y/n scramble away and trip, he falls with them- landing on top of them.

Their faces were inches away. Quackity’s eyes trail down to y/n’s soft-looking, blush pink lips as if they were calling his name. ‘Alex! Alex!’

“Alex! Hello, get off me I can’t breathe you idiot!” y/n groans pushing him up a little. “Sorry I- I don’t even know what I was doing,” he laughs nervously, fixing his lopsided beanie. “What is up with you today, Q? You seem awkward almost, well more awkward then usual.” They push away the peaking hair that was dropped in front of his eyes to under his beanie. Their close proximity made his breath hitch. Is he going to confess? This is the perfect time to do it the opportunity is right here. “I think- I think I love you. I am in love with you y/n,” His voice is meek, barely above a whisper. A gasp left y/ns mouth before they clap their hand over it in shock. Tears build up, threating to spill everywhere. He didn’t know that y/n just broke up with their boyfriend of 8 months, no one knew. They didn’t tell anyone they were dating, and they didn’t tell anyone the broke up.

“I wish I could love you; I know you’d be good for me, but I can’t. I just broke up with my boyfriend a week ago- I-I can’t,” y/n speaks through broken sobs. Their eyes red and stingy- just like Quackity’s. They cry together because they can’t be together.

[bookinit02]

found this little thing i wrote while i was reading the second part of your rewrite series, it is yours now🤝

“here to log my progress,, really trying to marathon this whole series got the whole first part done yesterday and im determined to get this (40k longer) part done today,, im half way through so only 50k to go and its good dont get me wrong but its a Lot and im Overwhelmed and i wanna get to season three when mike figures out his feelings for will and wills feelings for mike get more angsty and jaded and then i wanna get to season four when mike cant stop staring at wills lips. i must stay strong through them having a good relationship alas

hmmm all this talk of mike never lying hmmm… almost seems,, dare i say…. like foreshadowing. hmmm when does mike wheeler lie hmmm. literally season 4. this is already season 4 foreshadowing. and it’s Been happening like since the beginning. shoutout to the girlie who’s writing this’ forethought,, truly insane im in awe,, will has to believe mike loves el, he never lies.

“And Mike knows what a rare, powerful feeling that is. To be needed. It doesn’t happen all that often, for guys like him and Bob.

When you get the chance, you leap on it, just as eagerly as one of those mini-demogorgons in the hallway devouring their prey. Or at least, Mike would. And, not to assume, but he thinks he and Bob are kinda wired the same way. So that means Bob would, too.” god this boy,, i am him and he is me but also,, Season Four Love Confession.. hes leaping at the chance to be useful, hes needed and he knows what hes needed for in that moment holy shit this is crazy were only half way through season two,, this isn’t even written yet and yet it is written in the Stars holy shit

possibly my favorite addition to this retelling is mikes investment in johnothan vs steve”

thank you so much!! i love seeing people’s notes🫶🏻

i am still so impressed by how quickly you finished this series!! i was watching the comments roll in with a mixture of awe and fear tbh😭 i am always blown away when people make the decision to read the rewrite from the beginning—that is so much writing!! several novels worth!! you deserve an award!🏆

haha i love a good bit of foreshadowing😈 & thank you so much for the compliment!!

bob☹️ and yes you got mike’s character struggle perfectly! he Needs to be Needed.

and YEAHH lmao i love writing the love triangle through mike’s eyes😭 it’s so fucking funny he’s so bitchy about it

again, thank you so much!!!

[simptasia]

I know you ship them (I think), and I've filled your inbox with them but I'd love to hear your thoughts on Desmond x Charlie. I know that's kind of vague, but anything really any hcs and you know porn hcs, your perfect dynamic for them

i love charlie/desmond but my brain trips over it a bit, because as much as possible in The Version Of LOST In My Head, i do try to have it work with canon. like not contradict anything

as such, charlie/des is a lovely thought aesthetically, emotionally, sexually... however i know it could've never happened on island because des would never ever ever cheat on penny

same applies to charlie/des/claire

i think these dynamics absolutely would work and would be lovely but des has utter loyalty to penny. yes, i'm all about that poly shipping but penny isn't There to tell des "yes, fuck the little manc and that aussie girl too, i'm cool with it"

so for charlie/des to work, and i mean Work, it's gotta be a post-island charlie lives au thing. which is great! (one even adds penny in that situation) but i do also like the idea of charlie/des on the island. it's appealing to look at. that and it's enjoyable to add in desmond's season 3 Haunted By Tragic Visions thing

another possibility is for charlie to manage charming des into it... but that seems disrespectful. charlie is pro des/penny. but charlie also is far from perfect. i'm overthinking all of this, as is my way

i do try to keep everything as in character as possible

there is a line of thought i toy with where des could be convinced to think, ya know, penny wouldn't mind if you moved on, des. she's probably moved on. like, des is insecure and severely touch starved, that could work

i'm not one of those "grrr girl is getting in the way of my slash ship!" kinda people, i promise. i'm just rolling thoughts in my fingers here

following this line of thought, des/charlie would have to start off at least a little angsty. two sad people reaching out for each other and pushing bad thoughts away with carnal pleasure

whatever happens, des did Not start this jfskjhfs. no matter what i do with this ship, either taking it Canon Compliant Seriously or just flippant Fucky Sexy Fun Times, charlie is the instigator

anyways putting all that aside, here are some charlie/des thoughts

an idea i love and i wanna see in fanfic is des finding out he's gonna be with charlie, because of a vision. it's kinda funny (that the universe would care) and it could be a way, a weird fucked up way, to get them together despite the issues i mentioned earlier. i think it'd be a good jumping off point for like angst and pining

that thing i've said, "the only way to shut charlie up in bed is to keep his mouth occupied", that started because of charlie/des. i imagined them making out, hands all over each other, and charlie Will Not Shut Up, i imagine he's super talkative in bed. people who care little about charlie have been pissed off by it. and like, des is into charlie but its actually getting annoying. des doesn't tell charlie to shut up but he does lead the situation to charlie blowing him, and my brain narrator supplies the quote, pretty much

catholic4catholic. this is honestly one of my favourite aspects about this dynamic, the fact that they're both Very catholic. not enough to be losers about it, duh, but enough to have some hang ups. especially charlie

height difference. despite it only being a 3 inch difference, the different in face shapes, body types, body languages and attitudes makes it feel like des is like a clear foot bigger than charlie. des could also overpower charlie very easily if he wanted to. in a sexy way, not a violence way. (tho, sexy violence?) charlie would fold like lawn furniture under des. (honestly the size difference thing is also a major reason i started shipping jack/charlie and sawyer/charlie too. sometimes something just fucking looks good)

"des: i've never been with a man before" "charlie, has a pussy: it's alright, i have a feeling you'll know what to do". jokes aside, normally charlie is way more afraid of guys finding out (because of. violence) but he doesn't get that vibe off des, so he's strangely giddy at having a surprise for him?? like, ta-da, Extra Hole. this is a thing i've decided for charlie, where he almost never tells people he's trans before intimacy. pretty much because he's impulsive and thinks with his blood well before his brain. so, obviously, des is surprised. who wouldn't be at least surprised

i was thinking about what their dynamic would be like. basically take what's presented in the show, add sex of course. but also i suppose they'd just be closer, like be affectionate. in little ways, like des putting his hand on the small of charlie's back, charlie fiddling with one of des' shirt buttons, either one of them pushing a stray bit of hair out of the other's faces. liberal use of the pet name "love". and that thing in des/charlie fanfic where charlie calls des "dessie" a lot? love that, absolutely for that. they're not doing full on PDA on the beach because 2004 was a nightmare but there's a noticeable closeness and warmth ("jack, a month late: are they gay...?" "kate: jack, you're gay")

as for social dynamics? let's lookit the characters here and see what'd factor into a relationship. they're both very protective people with an aching desire to Take Care of a loved one. they'd both have varying levels of catholic guilt (yummy). and they're both deeply insecure in a "i'm not good enough for anybody ever". so we got a couple of very loyal boys full of powder kegs of angst waiting to blow up at any moment. on a lighter note, these two would have arguments over who pays for dinner at restaurants. they both grew up poor and this manifests in them not liking to rely on other people. I'll Take Care Of You. No, I'll Take Care Of You (boys, boys please... you have a sugar mama who is rolling her eyes). but yeah they have a decent amount in common while still being very different people, so it's interesting to think about that

des doesn't like charlie's music. he will never like charlie's music. it's best not to discuss it as criticism feels like a stab wound to charlie

charlie: [wearing a plaid miniskirt] how do i look?

des: gorgeous, brutha, but that still isn't a kilt

charlie: [big faux-innocent eyes] it isn't? but im wearing it in the... traditional way

des: wh- [realises what charlie means] [404 error, Desmond Hume.exe is not responding]

charlie: you can check me for authenticity if you like, brutha

yes, boys, make your ancestors scream out in horror

[thenixkat]

another Kaiju no. 8 ep and that actually is a pretty cool opening theme. There's *implications* in the visuals of how it starts. Also the cgi rendering of the protag's monster form looks so much better in the last shot of the opening theme entirely b/c its darkly lit and the glowing blue lines are more extensive you know a design is fucked when the cgi version looks 10 times better

like fuck I think I'd rather see this show animated in cgi if the designs look that much better what the hell

also the lyrics involving fears of a loss of control would be a much more interesting story than what i know the thing goes with for Kafka's relationship with his whole being a kaiju thing. I wish dude would have to combat with being a generally decent guy but gaining the instincts of an agressive predatory animal. Like, don't have to be a superpowered evil side but a superpowered feral side or even just a touch of more feral/wild behavior would be nice

Just, I am a face-monster turn lovin bastich and I know what I like

edgy teen really told the guy who doesnt have lips currently and also a mouth full of fangs to flash the witness a smile to come off as less threatening. Obviously, it was not helpful wild, this design really just needs more glowy bits to be at least 50% better

Kafka has superstrength, which is *not* fully implemented in this sequence. Like if resting his hand on the wall destroys the whole fucking wall then his footsteps should be destroying the floor

like look at that a few quick fixes would make this design look so much better. Like more glowy bits, make all teh spines the same color. Also dont just stop the spines mid back and carry them down the damn tailbone decreasing in size as they reach his coccyx, dont half ass shit

the design feels half-assed. Like, that feels like a first draft. and just it only needs a few fixes to elevate it like i get this weird shapeshifting is a gag, it's just, Well, it's just not funny and continues to make me think about how bleh the mc's monster form is. But also why tentacles and also why are none of those bits glowing.

while panicking, fleeing, and uncontrollably shapeshifting the protag's tongue shoots out and catches and eats a bird.

again I know its a gag I just want more than a cheap gag, i guess ah… I see what was meant by juvenile tone. Kafka pisses through his nipples

the thing is these gags arent very good. I laughed at the end of last ep, but this is not funny. Kafka is weirded out by his nipple piss understandable ok that bit right there of Kafka realizing that he can't achieve his goal of joining the kaiju slayers if he looks like a kaiju b/c they'd kill him on the spot. I liked that bit

honestly, I think i'd like more seriousness in the beginning, b/c like there are people coming to kill him and his body has been fundamentally changed in a very drastic way. Like establish shit first, let it sink in, and then bring in the levity. also supersenses, or at least kaiju detecting and identifying senses yeah yeah the kaiju are natural disasters but if earthquakes were hungry and at least as smart as the average critter

Kafka decides to go fight the other kaiju instead of running from the kaiju killers and saves the life of a little girl and her mom fucking punches the other bigger kaiju so hard it explodes and rains blood. nice

the angsty teen: Yeah, ok, that is definitely something you should never do to a person ah this makes me so mad just more glowy bits would make this design better if we're not changing the proportions or adding a tail.

ok this series is a mixed bag for me. SOme bits are pretty good but there's so much that 'you could have done better than this'

you know what, I think I really would have preferred an alternate thing with Kafka being stuck in kaiju for the 3 months having adventures rather than a time skip and he's been shifting uncontrollably. Like maybe have him thinking about alternate ways to achieve his goal and being uncertain if he can become/look human again. Again it would be more fitting with his namesake.

Hell, it would help Kaiju no. 8 in the story build up way more of a reputation by becoming a weird friendly neighborhood kaiju that keeps getting away from the kaiju slayers.

And frankly his kaiju form looks like a dude in a suit, he could wear a disguise. Like, he'd probably stand out wearing a disguise but at least it would avoid folks hopping on their phone going 'there's a kaiju, kill it' immediately again, a mixed bag. There's good bones here, just how they're being used is disappointing

I'll probably look into fan content, but given how shallow and shipping-focused fandom is I probably won't find anything really satisfying there either

like with his canon design, this bitch could just wear clothes

like that would be a good deadline/goal for trying to turn back human-looking in an au where Kafka was stuck looking like a kaiju for awhile. Getting his shit together to try and take the exam to get in with the monster slayers which is the last time he can try b4 hitting the new age cut off i will assume based on the quality in his voice when he's talking as a monster, that along side the not having lips and a very inhuman tongue, that the mechanisms of his speech are very different with the biology going on there also imagine being like 32 yrs old and yer 17 yr old coworker, who calls you sir b/c he was raised with manners, declares you to be his rival. Wild

Yeah… I would very much have liked more story between this important event and the night bro turned into a kaiju. We're hopping along very quickly and I'd rather get to know folks better first cgi animated vehicle

this rude blond teen girl is using the supertech to move Kafka's car out of the spot she wants to park in b/c ot has her lucky number of the day. She rich too. I do not like this child she dented the vehicle, lifted the vehicle one handed and fucking threw it. Nah, I'd have to fight that child

aint no way. the fucking repairs. the towing alone. Good lords would have to beat that child's ass

a fucking nepo baby even i'd have to fight the fucking child the chick with the pet tiger feeds the poor thing kibble. Has it live in her apartment, which is way too damn small for it, and she sends it into battle with fucking kaiju without putting armor on the poor thing