#normally i’d just move to fix it but if it wont work Whats The Point

[bravevolunteer]

question for people that have made new tumblr blogs recently do your tags fucking save

[fruggo]

I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,

Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?

And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing

oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!

i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request

the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)

warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins

word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)

(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.

your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.

the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.

it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.

you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.

it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.

“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.

hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.

“that i am,” he replied.

then it was quiet for a while.

very quiet.

well, what were you supposed to say now?

the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—

it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.

it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.

“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.

you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.

however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.

there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.

despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”

quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”

you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”

“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.

“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”

from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.

he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.

most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.

that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.

and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.

you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.

your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.

after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.

he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.

you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.

leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”

“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”

leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.

but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”

begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.

but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.

“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.

the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.

you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.

it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.

but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.

the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?

biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..

but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.

leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.

from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.

you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.

“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.

“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.

you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.

he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.

steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.

eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.

as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.

“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”

you know, the usual friendly stuff.

you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.

and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.

and that was when the chaos started.

steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.

“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”

steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.

it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.

after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.

“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.

“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”

he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”

oh. oh.

realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”

“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”

oh.

huh.

you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.

this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.

your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.

sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.

this was very funny to you.

not to him.

while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.

he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.

frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.

the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.

so he threw a rock at you.

it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.

“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.

he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.

you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.

“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.

frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.

“i want a truce,” he said.

you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?

he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(

just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.

“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”

he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”

frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”

“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.

of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.

so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.

when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.

when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”

you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.

he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.

this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.

oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.

and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.

listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm

[honeypirate]

Fate of the Clouds

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 Gajeel x Fem Reader 

unedited 

“Hi” you say softly, sitting beside him against the side of the guild house. “Leave me alone” he turned away from you, his voice gruff. He smelled like fireworks and his hair was singed in a few places. You reach out and pinch the end of a lock that was smoldering “all that gorgeous hair, would hate for it to burn” you twist on your butt, laying your back against the sun warmed grass and placing your feet up against the building, you place your hands behind your head as you looked up at the clouds. 

“Why?” his voice was laced with annoyance that you were 50% sure was fake. You look over at his face “why what?” you smile softly at him and you watch his guard fall just a little bit “why won’t you leave me alone?” you sit up again, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your thighs as you study him for a moment “Gajeel, if you really want me to leave and I’m making you uncomfortable, I will. But honestly, I’d like to get to know you. So if it’s alright with you, i’d like to lay here by you and talk, unless you don't want to, then we can just sit together.” 

You watch his emotions in his eyes, he couldn’t understand you. You were sweet and cute and he heard all about how strong a wizard you were. You watched him tear apart the guild hall but you were here by him. Telling him you wat to get to know him? He couldnt decide if you were joking or not. When he doesnt say anything for a few minutes you lay back again, smiling as you look up at the sky. 

After ten minutes go by and your eyes flick down to him, he’s looking at his hands in his lap “Do you mind if I talk to you? You don’t have to respond '' your voice was quiet, like it was carried to his ears on the breeze, his gaze froze on a scar he has on his knuckle “I dont mind” his voice was quieter than you had heard before. His usual anger was gone, just like you suspected it was just a cover for his real feelings. You sigh softly and look back up to the clouds “there is a cloud up there that looks like a horse” he looks up then, his eyes searching, you chuckle and pat the ground next to you softly. He looks down at you, considering, trying to figure you out, to see if you could be hatching a plan. 

He sighs and moves over so he was laying beside you, tensing and watching your face when you scoot closer to him, moving your head down next to his so you could find the cloud again “there” you point up and it takes him a moment to tear his gaze from your soft smile to follow your finger to the right cloud. You move back into your place and smile as you watch the cloud float away and become a blob again. 

“When i was younger..,” you look at him “now you have to promise me you wont tell anyone this, okay? Pinky promise me and since we’re friends you cant break it” you hold up your hand, pinky out and wait for him. His head turns, looking at your eyes and then down to your hand. His fingers drum against his stomach before he hooks his pinky around yours. You smile and pull your hand still connected to his and kiss the back of your thumb, pushing his hand towards his lips next “kiss or it doesnt work” his cheeks flush and he huffs in annoyance but kisses the back of his thumb anyway “thank you Gajeel” you whisper before your hands rest against your stomach again. 

“When I was younger, I had a job on a farm. I would use my water magic to help the crops among other things. I once rode a horse to check for the cows and was feeling really proud of my horse riding skill, I rode down the wrong path, got scraped off the back of my horse and thrown down the mountain. Had a nasty cut on my neck and i wasn't trusted riding alone again. I know this story is stupid, juvenile, but the point is this; trust is something that is really hard to earn, but worth every second. Sure i have other stories i could have told you, other magical ones where i fucked up missions. But all of them have the same point. Proving that you can grow as an individual, proving that people are worthy of a second chance, it’s nice that we even have that opportunity.” you point out another cloud “ooh look at that one! It looks like a starfish!” you chuckle and notice the smile on his lips  

 “Forgiveness has always come easy to me. I truly would like to be your friend and get to know you. No jokes, no dirty tricks. I’m here if you’ll have me Gajeel” he sighs gently, his hands holding his shirt in his fists, his knuckles turning white, after a few minutes his hands release his shirt and he relaxes into the grass.

 He doesn't get any bad vibes from you, if he had to put a picture to how you feel to him, he would picture a field of daisies on a summer day. “That one” he reaches up and points “that one looks like a dragon with a rider on it’s back” you chuckle and follow his finger to the cloud you could see the dragon but figured the rider smudged away “it does! That’s so cute” his cheeks flush and a true smile sits upon his lips. 

After another ten minutes storm clouds roll in as well as cold winds, you shiver and sit up again, turning towards him as he sat up next to you, you reach out slowly and when he doesn't move or say anything you gently run your fingers through his thick hair, pulling out the pieces of grass that stuck to him. “Thank you for letting me sit with you” you smile sweetly up at him, even sitting by him he was much taller and bigger than you. “Thank you, for wanting to” he avoids your gaze, his cheeks dusting pink yet again. 

Every day you would eat meals with him and talk, slowly you would convince others to give him a chance. Inviting others to sit with you both, he slowly opened up more to you and you would cloud gaze and chat about your missions and other things you have witnessed or experienced. but even then, you had to take missions that kept you apart occasionally. 

Excitement was flooding your system, you were a few blocks away from home and you haven't been back for a few months, your last mission was difficult and you spent some time in the hospital. You were so excited to see Gajeel you almost couldn't handle it, forcing yourself to take normal steps and not to run. 

You open the door and look around at everyone, looking for your specific person. Gajeel was in the back of the room, deep in conversation with Levy. Your smile disappears and you feel your heart skip before it crumbles into your stomach. You were happy for him, proud of his growth in the guild. You blink back your tears and then clear your throat softly, working your way through the crowd to the stairs to the dorm. 

You were supposed to be back today, where were you?! He was checking the door every few minutes, his heart racing and his foot tapping against the stone floor. He had gotten back from his mission a few days prior and was waiting for you, you sent him a letter saying when you expected to be back and he kept that letter in his inside jacket pocket. “Hey Gajeeeeel” Levy says as she comes over to his table and he groans internally, he just wanted to talk to you,. 

After humoring her for a few minutes he hears the door close behind him, he turns his head and looks for you but doesn't find you, his eyes lock with Mirajane and she points across the crowded room. When Gajeel followed her finger he sees the end of your hair and bag disappear up the stairs “excuse me” he says, cutting her off and standing quickly, running after you. 

The moment your door closes it’s being opened again, you gasp and your bag falls to the ground “why didn’t you come to me?” he asks, his eyes filled with hurt. You smile up at him and reach behind him, closing the door gently. “You looked busy” you laugh nervously and he furrows his brow “no, dont, don't do this, okay? I was counting down the seconds until you returned, I always count the seconds until you return. So please, come see me immediately next time. Okay?”  your breath hitches as you look at him, his words sinking into your heart. His eyes were wild and his hands were stretched out towards you, he wanted to hug you but you haven't broken the physical touch barrier.. until now. 

You throw your arms around his neck and he tenses, his breath hitching “I missed you so much Gajeel” you whisper and his body relaxes against you, his arms holding you to him tight as he buries his face into your hair. “I missed you too” you pull back and smile up at the dark haired man “wanna get some food and cloud watch and catch up?” you ask and he nods “i’d love to” he says, his gruff voice extremely softer than usual. 

Sitting at a table downstairs you eat your fill, after being gone for so long and not eating enough, it was like you were in heaven. “wow i cant believe you took 5 different missions in two weeks” you say as you finish eating. He laughs “i just took smaller papers so i could back here when you would '' you smile warmly, but he was too busy eating to notice the sweet look you’re giving him. 

You end up on your spot on the grass outside of the build, watching the clouds and talking. You show him your healing wounds that will most likely scar and tell him about your time in the hospital. He looks worried about you but tries to laugh it off “you were scars like badges” you giggle “well duh. I work hard for them” his finger tips brush one of your healed scars and he sighs “i wish you didnt have to get hurt though” he whispers and your heartbeat skips. His eyes meet yours and you smile softly, his eyes looking down to your lips and you almost lean forward to kiss him but before you can he’s turning his attention back to the sky. 

I am such a coward he thinks. How am i supposed to fix this? How do i get back to that moment. His eyes are on your face, watching the clouds reflected on your shiny eyes, the tufts of moisture that you gaze at like you’re reading his fate, and he gets an idea. “look at that one” he points and you don’t really know which one he’s talking about “which one? What does it look like?” He laughs “come see it from my perspective” he all but whispers and you roll on your side, bringing your face close to his to trace his eyesight to the right cloud. But his eyes were on you, on your smiling face and bright eyes, you were gorgeous.

“That one. Right there. It’s a cloud that looks like a cat” you reach out and place your hand on his bicep, your small hand traveling softly down his arm until your hand rests against his bracelet “I can’t find it” you whisper and pout, how could you be so adorable? “It’s right there I don’t know how you can’t see it” he chuckles and you turn your head around, trying different angles before you turn and look back at him “I can’t find it-“ your breath hitches when you notice his gaze is on you, a small smile on his lips and his eyes gentle. His hand moved to cup your cheek “you’re beautiful” his gruff voice was a low whisper, the wind blowing your hair behind you and rustling his into his face. Your hand moves without thinking, brushing his hair out of his eyes and cupping his cheek for a moment. 

“Did these hurt?” your fingers gently brush the studs along his eyebrow “they were magic” you hum, probably hurt as much as the guild tattoo. “These too?” your first finger gently slides down the side of his nose and he nods, his eyes never leaving yours, “what about .. these?” your thumb runs along his bottom lip before pulling it down gently, letting it smack against his teeth as you brush his chin studs. His eyes flick down to your lips and you lean in almost all the way before your eyes flick up to his “Gajeel.. Did you really miss me?” you whisper and a strangled groan escapes his throat “every day” his lips touch yours and you feel sparks burst across your skin, your hand moving to tangle in his hair as he pulls you closer to him. 

You pull back and sigh, your eyes closed for a few moments before they flutter open and meet his. He has a soft blush on his cheeks and a smile “should we form a group?” you ask and he laughs, bringing a smile to your lips “probably” he says as he brushes his fingertips across your cheek “but.. More than that right?” he asks with furrowed brows and you chuckle, pressing your lips softly to the tip of his nose before turning and looking up at the clouds again, like you could read your fate in the tufts of moisture. 

 “I love you Gajeel” you whisper and his breath hitches “you do?” he asks, reaching out and turning your gaze back to his. You smile and nod “yes” he smiles softly, a soft sigh of peace as he presses his forehead to yours “I love you y/n” 

[bloodbenderz]

humaniterations (dot) net/2014/10/13/an-anarchist-perspective-on-the-red-lotus/ this article from oct 2014 is very dense — truly, a lot to unpack here, but I feel like you would find this piece interesting. I would love it if you shared your thoughts on the points that stood out to you, whether you agree or disagree. you obv don’t have to respond to it tho, but I’m sending it as an ask jic you feel like penning (and sharing) a magnificent essay, as is your wont 💕

article

i know this took me forever 2 answer SORRY but i just checked off all the things on my to do list for the first time in days today so. Essay incoming ladies!

ok im SO glad u sent me this bc it’s so so good. it’s a genuinely thoughtful criticism of the politics in legend of korra (altho i think its sometimes a little mean to korra unnecessarily like there’s no reason to call her a “petulant brat” or say that she throws tantrums but i do understand their point about her being an immature and reactionary hero, which i’ll get back to) and i think the author has a good balance between acknowledging like Yeah the lok writers were american liberals and wrote their show accordingly and Also writing a thorough analysis of lok’s politics that felt relevant and interesting without throwing their hands up and saying this is all useless liberal bullshit (which i will admit that i tend to do).

this article essentially argues that the red lotus antagonists of s3 were right. And that’s not an uncommon opinion i think but this gives it serious weight. Like, everything that zaheer’s gang did was, in context, fully understandable. of course the red lotus would be invested in making sure that the physically and spiritually and politically most powerful person in the world ISNT raised by world leaders and a secret society of elites that’s completely unaccountable to the people! of course the red lotus wants to bring down tyrannical governments and allow communities to form and self govern organically! and the writers dismiss all of that out of hand by 1. consistently framing the red lotus as insane and murderous (korra never actually gives zaheer’s ideas a chance or truly considers integrating them into her own approach) 2. representing the death of the earth queen as not just something that’s not necessarily popular (what was with mako’s bootlicker grandma, i’d love to know) but as something that causes unbelievable violence and chaos in ba sing se (which, like, a lot of history and research will tell you that people in disasters tend towards prosocial behaviors). so the way the story frames each of these characters and ideologies is fascinating because like. if you wanted to write season 3 of legend of korra with zaheer as the protagonist and korra as the antagonist, you wouldn’t actually have to change the sequence of events at all, really. these writers in particular and liberal writers in general LOVE writing morally-gray-but-ultimately-sympathetic characters (like, almost EVERY SINGLE fire nation character in the first series, who were full on violent colonizers but all to a degree were rehabilitated in the eyes of the viewer) but instead of framing the red lotus as good people who are devoted to justice and freedom and sometimes behave cruelly to get where theyre trying to go, they frame them as psychopaths and murderers who have good intentions don’t really understand how to make the world a better place.

and the interesting thing about all this, about the fact that the red lotus acted in most cases exactly as it should have in context and the only reason its relegated to villain status is bc the show is written by liberals, is that the red lotus actually points out really glaring sociopolitical issues in universe! like, watching the show, u think well why the fuck HASN’T korra done anything about the earth queen oppressing her subjects? why DOESN’T korra do anything about the worse than useless republic president? why the hell are so many people living in poverty while our mains live cushy well fed lives? how come earth kingdom land only seems to belong to various monarchs and settler colonists, instead of the people who are actually indigenous to it? the show does not want to answer these questions, because american liberal capitalism literally survives on the reality of oppressive governments and worse than useless presidents and people living in poverty while the middle/upper class eats and indigenous land being stolen. if the show were to answer these questions honestly, the answer would be that the status quo in real life (and the one on the show that mirrors real life) Has To Change.

So they avoid answering these questions honestly in order for the thesis statement to be that the status quo is good. and the only way for the show to escape answering these questions is for them to individualize all these broad social problems down into Good people and Bad people. so while we have obvious bad ones like the earth queen we also have all these capitalists and monarchs and politicians who are actually very nice and lovely people who would never hurt anyone! which is just such an absurd take and it’s liberal propaganda at its best. holding a position of incredible political/economic power in an unjust society is inherently unethical and maintaining that position of power requires violence against the people you have power over. which is literally social justice 101. but there’s literally no normal, average, not-politically-powerful person on the show. so when leftist anarchism is presented and says that destroying systems that enforce extreme power differentials is the only way to bring peace and freedom to all, the show has already set us up to think, hey, fuck you, top cop lin beifong and ford motor ceo asami sato are good people and good people like them exist! and all we have to do to move forward and progress as a society is to make sure we have enough good individuals in enough powerful positions (like zuko as the fire lord ending the war, or wu as the earth king ending the monarchy)! which is of course complete fiction. liberal reform doesn’t work. but by pretending that it could work by saying that the SYSTEM isnt rotten it’s just that the people running it suck and we just need to replace those people, it automatically delegitimizes any radical movements that actually seek to change things.

and that’s the most interesting thing about this article to me is that it posits that the avatar...might actually be a negative presence in the world. the avatar is the exact same thing: it’s a position of immense political and physical power bestowed completely randomly, and depending on the moral character and various actions of who fills that position at any given time, millions of people will or won’t suffer. like kyoshi, who created the fascist dai li, like roku, who refused to remove a genocidal dictator from power, like aang, who facilitated the establishment of a settler colonial state on earth kingdom land. like korra! she’s an incredibly immature avatar and a generally reactionary lead. i’ve talked about this at length before but she never actually gets in touch with the needs of the people. she’s constantly running in elite circles, exposed only to the needs and squabbles of the upper class! how the hell is she supposed to understand the complexities of oppression and privilege when she was raised by a chess club with inordinate amounts of power and associates almost exclusively with politicians and billionaires?? from day 1 we see that she tends to see things in very black and white ways which is FINE if you’re a privileged 17 yr old girl seeing the world for the first time but NOT FINE if you’re the single most powerful person in the world! Yeah, korra thinks the world is probably mostly fine and just needs a little whipping into shape every couple years, because all she has ever known is a mostly fine world! in s1 when mako mentions that he as a homeless impoverished teenager worked for a gang (which is. Not weird. Impoverished people of every background are ALWAYS more likely to resort to socially unacceptable ways of making money) korra is like “you guys are criminals?????!!!!!” she was raised in perfect luxury by a conservative institution and just never developed beyond that. So sure, if the red lotus raised her anarchist, probably a lot would’ve been different/better, but....they didn’t. and korra ended up being a reactionary and conservative avatar who protected monarchs and colonialist politicians. The avatar as a position is completely subject to the whims of whoever is currently the avatar. and not only does that suck for everyone who is not the avatar, not only is it totally unfair to whatever kid who grows up knowing the fate of the world is squarely on their shoulders, but it as a concept is a highly individualist product of the authors’ own western liberal ideas of progress! the idea that one good leader can fix the world (or should even try) based on their own inherent superiority to everyone else is unbelievably flawed and ignores the fact that all real progress is brought about as a result of COMMUNITY work, as a result of normal people working for themselves and their neighbors!

the broader analysis of bending was really interesting to me too, but im honestly not sure i Totally agree with it. the article pretty much accepts the show’s assertion that bending is a privilege (and frankly backs it up much better than the original show did, but whatever), and i don’t think that’s NECESSARILY untrue since it is, like, a physical advantage (the author compares it to, for example, the fact that some people are born athletically gifted and others are born with extreme physical limitations), but i DO think that it discounts the in universe racialization of bending. in any sequel to atla that made sense, bending as a race making fact would have been explored ALONGSIDE the physical advantages it bestows on people. colonialism and its aftermath is generally ignored in this article which is its major weakness i think, especially in conjunction with bending. you can bring up the ideas the author did about individual vs community oriented progress in the avatar universe while safely ignoring the colonialism, but you can’t not bring up race and colonialism when you discuss bending. especially once you get to thinking about how water/earth/airbenders were imprisoned and killed specifically because bending was a physical advantage, and that physical advantage was something that would have given colonized populations a means of resistance and that the fire nation wanted to keep to itself.

i think that’s the best lens thru which to analyze bending tbh! like in the avatar universe bending is a tool that different ethnic groups tend to use in different ways. at its best, bending actually doesn’t represent social power differences (despite representing a physical power difference) because it’s used to represent/maintain community solidarity. like, take the water tribe. katara being the last waterbender, in some way, makes her the last of a part of swt CULTURE. the implication is that when there were a lot of waterbenders in the south, they dedicated their talents to building community and helping their neighbors, because this was something incredibly culturally important and important to the water tribe as a community. the swt as a COLLECTIVE values bending for what it can do for the entire tribe, which counts for basically every other talent a person can have (strength, creativity, etc). the fire nation, by contrast, distorts the community value of bending by racializing it: anyone who bends an element that isn’t fire is inherently NOT fire nation (and therefore inherently inferior) and, because of the physical power that bending confers, anyone who bends an element that isn’t fire is a threat to fire nation hegemony. and in THAT framework of bending, it’s something that intrinsically assigns worth and reifies race in a way that’s conveniently beneficial to the oppressor.

it IS worth talking about how using Element as a way to categorize people reifies nations, borders, and race in a way that is VERY characteristic of white american liberals. i tried to be conscious of that (and the way that elements/bending can act in DIFFERENT ways, depending on cultural context) but i think it’s pretty clear that the writers did intend for element to unequivocally signify nation (and, by extension, race), which is part of why they screwed up mixed families so bad in lok. when they’ve locked themselves into this idea that element=nation=race, they end up with sets of siblings like mako and bolin or kya tenzin and bumi, who all “take” after only one parent based on the element that they bend. which is just completely stupid but very indicative of how the writers actually INTENDED element/bending to be a race making process. and its both fucked up and interesting that the writers display the same framework of race analysis that the canonical antagonists of atla do.

anyway that’s a few thoughts! thank u again for sending the article i really loved it and i had a lot of fun writing this <3

[srhlsx]

Rewritten & Reposted March 23, 2021

MASTER | Ch. 10 | CHAPTER 11 |  Ch. 12

At school the next day, you just knew you were going to have an off day. 

You were still simmering from the night before and arguing with your dad, but you wanted to make a point to not let it get to you. You were so close to the tournament and so close to entrance exams. Plus you had a lot of really good things going for you - your team was kicking ass, Eiji and Yua were doing well in school, Bokuto - you couldn’t let one argument with your dad cause complete destruction to your life.

The bell had rung for the next class period and since you were ahead in your graduation credits, this time was free for you to do as you pleased. You found yourself in front of a vending machine, deciding between a yogurt drink and a snack bar when you saw a familiar reflection appear behind you.

After punching in the number of your selection and getting your drink, you turned around with a bright smile on your face and greeted the boy waiting behind you. “Hiya, Shouta-kun!”

“Hey, (y/n).” He greeted, hands in the pockets of his green uniform pants, rocking back on his heels. “You look really nice today. How are things?”

“Bahh,” You waved your hand around dismissively. “Can’t really keep up with anything nowadays, I can’t believe exams are so soon and the tournament too!”

You side stepped out of his way so that the third-year volleyball player could get to the vending machine behind you, but stayed facing him as he selected his own snack. “Yeah well,” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand after punching in the number he wanted. “If anyone can do it all, it’s certainly you.”

You felt a little embarrassed at the comment. Normally, Shouta didn’t pay much attention to anyone or anything outside of volleyball, so for him to so openly pay you such a compliment… oh boy.

Can I walk you home?

You look nice today.

If anyone can do it, it’s certainly you.

Looking up as he turned to you, you had just the slightest feeling of despair in your stomach. You realized that, while you came to get a snack from this vending machine everyday, you had never once seen Shouta here during this free period. It seemed oddly convenient that he was suddenly paying you such compliments and attention, his ears were just a slight shade of red, and he happened to be where you were at that moment.

“I didn’t know you had a free period now?” You asked, sipping at the yogurt drink in your hand as he stood up from gathering his own.

“I uh… kind of don’t?”

“Skipping? Bold move.” You laughed, hoping to come across as if you didn’t already know what was coming.

“Yeah, well I knew you had this period free and wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Oh no, no, no...

“I imagine it must be important.”

He looked like he was working himself up to speak and you waited patiently, awkwardly fixing the skirt of your uniform as you waited. You weren’t anticipating something like this to happen today and you honestly weren’t in the best of moods for it to happen either. But you knew you couldn’t be cruel and just walk away, so you stood there and looked at the boy before you.

“(Y/n),” He started, no sound of nervousness in his voice but the clenching of the muscles in his jaw and the creeping blush telling you he was completely stressed. “I like you, I’ve liked you, and I would like to take you out sometime. On a date.  ”

No matter what you thought previously, it was still surprising to hear the words actually be spoken from the boy. You guys talked, sure, but not nearly enough to warrant the idea that he had feelings for you. You’d never been in the same class and your only real connection was through Daiki and volleyball. “I, um…” You started, looking up at him with a slight pout on your face. “I’m kind of seeing someone?”

“Kind of?”

“Yeah, well it’s… new. I’m really sor-”

“Is it that fuck from Fukurodani?” He snapped, fists clenching. You were startled at the outburst and took a step back, blinking slowly. You started to respond but he cut you off again. “Yeah, I heard about you and him, didn’t think it was actually real.”

“I’m sorry, Shouta.” You said again, looking at him with a confused expression and trying to figure out where the anger was coming from.

“Just can’t find anything good enough here so you go crawling around some other school for the flashiest piece of candy you can find,” He shook his head with a scoff, the words he spoke dripping like venom. “Should’ve known better, that guy always gets whatever he wants. You know, Daiki warned me to not say anything to you because of the rumor. I mean, I know you are going through some hard shit lately, but damn… no way are you that desperate.”

“That was... really mean.” You swallowed uncomfortably, and looked down at your feet. You hadn’t realized that you were clenching your fist so tightly until you heard the slight crack from the plastic bottle in your hand being crushed. “I’m going to go now.”

“(Y/n), I’m sorry I just- ugh. He gets me so angry, he’s such a dumbass, and you’re so much b-”

“No.” You turned around to him again sharply, gaze hardened which made him step back. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say any of that. You have no idea who Bokuto is, and you clearly have no idea who I am. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m leaving.”

*

Hey, quick question--

Bokkun: plz im sooooo bored

Do you know Shouta? From the boy’s team at my school?

Bokkun: of course!! Good hair ~ not like mine tho

No one has hair like you 0_o

Bokkun: Ha taking that as a compliment - why do you ask??

I was just talking to him today and you came up! Now pay attention!

Bokkun: you know i wont!!!

*

“He did what?”

You looked over at Rumi with a look that said ‘can you please shut the hell up?’ 

“I’m sorry but that asshole,” She shook her head and looked back down at her plate of food, her voice lowering considerably. “I mean, who does he think he is?”

“He was probably just upset I turned him down.” You shrugged. “It takes a lot of courage to confess to someone, especially if you aren’t-”

“Literally, (Y/n), you’re the worst. The guy flipped out at you because you’re seeing someone else. Then calls you an idiot. He doesn’t get your sympathy.”

You scrunched your face up in frustration, you knew she was right. “I guess after last night I just was hoping for a normal day.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah,” You sighed, pushing your tray of food away. “Got into it with my dad and I... said a few things.”

Rumi nodded her head, studying your face while you refused to look at her. “Things that needed to be said?” When you didn’t respond, she took that as a yes and continued. “You’re allowed to be angry at him.”

“But it doesn’t make a difference,” You said, your brows furrowing together in thought. “And besides, I was beyond angry. I was disrespectful.”

Rumi left it at that for a few minutes, knowing that sometimes saying nothing and letting you stew in your thoughts was better than trying to convince you to feel a certain way - no matter how valid the feelings were. You pulled your tray of food back to you, deciding that you weren’t actually done eating - in fact, you were still really hungry - and dug in again.

“But back to what we were talking about,” Rumi said in a sly tone, skillfully changing the subject. “You and Mr. Hot-Shot?”

You choked on your food when you looked up to see your friend wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. You could feel the burning blush creep up your neck and spread across your cheeks. “We’re just-”

“You don’t have to explain it to me.” Your friend held up her hand to stop you, a smile on her face as she saw your reaction to mentioning the boy from Fukurodani. “But you’re not just friends and you deserve to be happy.”

New Message: 12:59PM

Bokkun: still on for saturday right?

Only if you are bringing the pup!

Bokkun: i see whats happening here

“No one just smiles at their phone for no reason, (Y/n).” Rumi sang as the two of you walked down the hall to your next class. You quickly hid your phone behind your back and looked up at your friend innocently. She gave your shoulder a shove and started humming the tune to a familiar song about falling in love while completely ignoring the fact that your cheeks were turning a burning red.

*

“Well, I can definitely help you out some time,” You said, looking towards the small screen of your phone as it sat propped against a stack of books on your kitchen table in front of you. You leaned back from your little study area to stretch your stiff muscles, hearing a few pops and cracks. “I took that class last year, probably still have the notes around here somewhere.”

“That’d be amazing,” Bokuto grumbled from the other end, you saw him run a hand through disheveled hair. It wasn’t styled like he normally had it, instead it was hanging limply across his forehead since he had just hopped out of the shower when he called you for a video chat.  “I’d like you to know that I’m not failing the class, coach just wants us to be getting at least fifty-fives on our tests to play.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” You smiled, you knew by now that a good amount of reassurance kept the demons away from Bokuto’s mind. “I know how smart you are, Bokkun.”

Although he was moving around wherever he was, you could see the satisfied smile on his face at your words as he shyly looked back at you. “I like when you call me that,” He mumbled.

You played with the earphone wire connected to your phone as Bokuto continued to talk about random things, you had plugged in to avoid making too much noise while your siblings watched a movie in the other room. Occasionally, your laughter would make Eiji look over the back of the couch to see what you were doing, confused since you had a government book open in front of you and it really shouldn’t be that entertaining.

“What were you and Shotua talking about today that brought me up?” Bokuto asked, having propped his phone up somewhere in what you assumed was his bedroom, you could see him starting to fold up clothes and pack them into a small duffel bag. “He’s not really the social type, yeah?”

“Yeah not really,” You mumbled, playing with a piece of hair. “He… kinda asked me out.”

You saw Bokuto pause his movements through the screen of your phone, making you feel a little bit nervous about what would happen next. “Whaddya say?” He mumbled.

“I told him I was kinda seeing someone,” You said. It sounded more like a question when you spoke. You weren’t even sure if you were seeing Bokuto, you just knew that you wanted to be. 

“Kinda?” His head lifted up from where he was looking down at the duffel bag on his bed, he turned sharply to the phone and looked straight at you the best he could through the device. In his excitement, he grabbed the phone and brought the camera up very close to his face. “You’re definitely seeing someone!”

You smiled at that, turning away from your phone as your cheeks blushed lightly, pretending to look back at your work in front of you to distract yourself. Glad that’s cleared up.

“I don’t really know how, but he knew it was you.” You said after a moment, scratching your head with the pen in your hand.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly shy about asking about you at camp.” Bokuto snorted, his eyes widening slightly as he admitted the slightly embarrassing fact.

“Such a stalker,” You joked. “Have you two ever gotten into it before? He said some pretty nasty things, which was… surprising.”

“Well, he was probably embarrassed.” Bokuto shrugged, having one of those serious moments where he shows how he isn’t entirely all about being flashy and goofy, but actually understood what it is to be a human. “I mean, he confessed to a pretty girl and she turned him down, I’d probably freak out too.”

*

[fandomoblivion]

Ella Enchanted (prologue)

Fandom: Stranger Things season 3

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader 

Summary: (Y/N), also known as Nine, was a girl being experimented on all her life by the Hawkins Lab, conditioned into following every command her brain heard. She managed to escape the lab, with the help of her little sister Eleven, and was taken in by Hopper. Now, it’s a year later, and the three of them are a happy family. She just got her first job, where she works alongside Steve “The Hair” Harrington… who her father doesn’t much like.

Warnings: Swearing, violence

Word Count:��1,356

Notes: This is the “Lot of Livin’ To Do” redo! Even if you read that prologue, please read this one as well, since I nearly doubled it in length! 

“I thought you forgot about me!” You sobbed, your face pale.

He held your head up, his eyes wild. “Never, Kiddo. Believe me, I would never.”

You clenched your hand around your open wound on your stomach, crying both tears of pain and happiness that you had been found.

“Shit, we gotta go, like, now.” He said, covering one of his own hands around your wound, trying to apply pressure and stop the never-ending bleeding while trying not to hurt you still.

“What?!” You cried, your breaths heavy. “N-No! They- Them! They’re still out there! And- and, and I wanna...” You dissolved into heavy sobs in his shoulder, and he held you tight against him, knowing that, in this second, he could protect you.

“Ssh... Kid, listen. El got them. They’re dead. But I promised her that when I found you, I’d take you straight to her for help. And... and I’ve found you.”

He hoisted you to your feet, and you almost collapsed instantly. “Shit.” He mumbled a quick, “C’mon, Kid. Up we go,” while picking you up in his arms. 

“Thank you Hopper.” You whispered. 

He huffed. “Don’t mention it.”

“Can you… tell me a story?” You asked, your head spinning from the amount of blood that had escaped. 

He sighed. “Once upon a time, there was a guy. And a girl.” At this point he was more carrying you than helping you walk. “They went to high school together. They used to meet under the bleachers, in the stairwell, wherever they could.” Your breaths were sharp and ragged. “They smoked together. And one day… Joyce-” 

He looked down, and your eyes were closed. “Fuck. Kid!” He said, shaking you in his arms. When you stirred, but didn’t wake or open your eyes, he broke into a sprint down the hall.

“Someone! Anyone! Help!” He yelled.

Mike and Lucas skidded down the hall. “Hopper!” Lucas yelled. They ran to each other, and the two young boys quickly spun around to match the direction that Hopper was running in with you. 

“We need to find someone.” Hopper said, his breathing ragged.

Mike cursed. “Mrs. Byers is down the hall, but she still hasn’t found anyone.”

“El!” Lucas yelled. The young girl turning the corner.

“Stop!” She yelled, halting all of you in an intersection of corridors. “Put her down.” she said, pointing at your body.

Hopper set you down on the cold linoleum floor. He watched as your chest rose and fell shallowly, one arm loosely draped over your own face.

The crimson stain of your shirt was growing ever larger, and it almost made Hopper’s stomach queasy.

Eleven closed her eyes and gripped one of your hands in her own.

“Mike, take off her shirt.” She said, turning her head toward Mike, but keeping her eyes closed.

Mike’s face turned bright red. Lucas awkwardly coughed and looked away as Mike lifted your shirt, revealing the most horrible gash in your skin that Hopper had ever seen. And he was in the police force.

He watched quietly as Eleven kept your hand in one of hers, and placed her other hand lightly on the injury. And although you weren’t conscious, your body contracted in pain when El’s small fingers touched it.

There were footsteps down the hall as Joyce came from one hallway, followed by Nancy and Jonathan. 

Everyone now was gathered around you and Eleven as the cut noticeably faded. The blood that had escaped your body already had stayed, though, keeping your skin shiny and your shirt damp. She moved her hand from your injury to putting two fingers on your forehead.

The absence of El’s hand showed your stomach had completely healed. Hopper, at the sight of this, let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

El’s hand started shaking, and it stopped as your eyes flew open.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, your wild eyes looking around at everyone. You reached your hands out, silently asking someone to help you sit up a little. Dustin and Lucas rushed forward, helping you lean up against a nearby wall. 

Your body shook with sobs. El sat down next to you and silently rested her head on your shoulder. You took your hand in hers. You looked down at her, smiling through the tears coursing down your cheeks. “Thank you, Eleven.”

“Son of a bitch, I know who you are!“

“Dustin, language.” Joyce mumbled, making everyone laugh through their blurred eyes.

“Sorry! It’s… it’s just… I didn’t know there were more.”

“Of course there are. She’s number eleven, you dumbass. That means there’s at least ten more.” Mike said, hitting Dustin upside his head. 

Hopper and El helped you to your feet. “I’ll take her home with me so El can watch over her. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have her sister back.” He looked to Eleven, who smiled in agreement. 

Joyce smiled and nodded. “I think that’s a great idea, Jim.” 

Hopper huffed and nodded, and he and Eleven helped walk you down the hall, towards the exit. 

You looked down at your wrist at the small “9” imprinted into your skin. You were scared beyond your wits, but insanely excited to see real sunlight for the first time. You were going to be a normal seventeen year-old. 

-----

Since you had left the lab, you been living with Hopper and Eleven. He had a nice home, a little cabin deep in the woods. You had agreed with both of them that until you all knew it was safe, you and El were not to leave the house without Hopper. 

Which meant you almost never left the house.

From one prison to another. 

You and El shared a room, but she soon grew restless. Soon enough, she was requesting your help every night to check up on Mike and his friends to see how they were doing. Now, you didn’t know these kids. They had only seen you once, when you were being rescued from Hawkins Lab, and since then Hopper had disallowed any contact with them. 

When El ran away, and Hopper had to leave to help Ms. Byers and her son again, you wanted nothing more than to leave too. You had the chance, too! No one was home, and you could set out to have your own adventure, and come back before Hopper even knew. 

Unfortunately, Hopper had told you the four words you wished he hadn’t. 

“Don’t leave the cabin.” 

So you couldn’t. 

See, Eleven was tortured into having telekinetic powers. You had heard whispers through the lab of another kid being “conditioned” into being able to create illusions in the eyes of others. Your brain was altered to obey every command it heard. Yup, you were a regular ole Ella Enchanted. 

So you didn’t leave the cabin. Yup, you were stuck there, bored out of your mind. You cleaned up the glass that had gotten everywhere from El’s little outburst. You rearranged all the furniture. The tv was broken, so you couldn’t even watch the news… you were cut off, isolated once again.

And then, Hopper came back. They tried to act as though they had never left. Hopper fixed the television, repaired the windows, and for Christmas, he adopted the two of you. Turns out, Eleven found out who you two really were, outside of the lab. Her name was Jane, and yours (Y/N). 

She still went by El though.

You helped her get ready for the Snow Ball, which you begged Hopper to let you go to, until you found out it was for middle schoolers. You asked him what middle school was, and he explained the American public school system. 

You hated it.

He also told you you’d have to jump in, head-first into your senior year of high school. You didn’t understand why, you had an education back at the Lab, but Hopper insisted. He forged school records, showing fake grades for fake courses so you could still graduate with everyone else. He wanted you to live like a normal seventeen year-old, even if it was just for one year. 

Which meant you needed to enjoy your summer before high school.

---

TAGLIST (bold means tumblr wont let me tag)

@a-hopeless-and-imaginative-girl . @alina-margaret . @anamcg317 . @annaewww . @blackandwhiteimagines . @bubblegumcat229 . @bucky-newtlock . @canny1902 .  @christinawxxx . @cosmickha0s . @creativedogs . @darkcrystal-wolf . @editsbyjenny . @eyeballtoes . @fandomsstolemylife00 . @fanatic-anne . @fredweasleysupportgroup . @ginger-swag-rapunzel . @golddvstwoman . @gracelynns . @grippleback-galaxy . @gruffle1 . @hananabee . @heavenlyholland . @hellhoundschewtoy . @in-my-dreams-2000 . @mackycat11 . @megsell99 . @metuel18 . @morganmindflayer . @notvvarriors . @opalrustad . @potterhead-witch . @queen1054 . @sheridans-dynamos . @thecaptainsgingersnap . @thegloryofliterature . @thoughstofaredhead . @ucantknowmeyet . @wastelandkitties . @whataloadofmalarkey​

[llodblinky]

Chapter 2:

Llod and the girls, X'tolzia and Cirina, are brought back to Ul'Dah to tend to their wounds and recuperate after the fighting they had just endured.

The following day, Llod wakes up in his room, having gone back to his home upon being treated and leaving the girls in the conjurers and white mages hands. He knew they'd be taken care of, but unfit to be on the move for a while. Having scrounged up what gil he could, went to the local market to grab a couple of flowers for both of them.

He picked out a couple that reminded him of X's fiery nature, and a few that complimented Cirina's line of work. Taking extra care amd notice to X's little bouquet. Once the sale was finalized he headed on over to the docs clinic. Once he entered he was greeted by the hyper girl at the front desk, Jaynee.

"Welcome back Llod, glad to see you're moving okay!" She exclaimed, her voice booming in the small clinic. "Oooooo, some flowers for those two girls huh? Aren't they just sooo lucky."

"Wha- its just a nice gesture is all." He says, slightly blushing out of embarrassment. "They took a worse beating than I did so its the least I can do to show my appreciation. And keep your voice down, it WAS a surprise."

Jaynee simply gave him a big grin holding a finger to her mouth, gesturing him to follow her.

"The doctor is with them now, there has been a complication with X'tolzia though. He can explain." A grim expression falls over Llod's face after hearing such a teaser. She opens the door, entering with Llod following. "Hey girls, look who I found. A caring and considerate gentleman, what a sweetheart ain’t he?"

"Seriously!? Again with this!? You're such a pain sometimes." He yells, looking away from the other two. "Hey guys, I brought a little gift for you two. It aint much but it's a token of my appreciation for your help." He holds out two bouquets and hands them over.

"Wow, they're so pretty Llod! Thank you so much." Cirina says infatuated with her bouquet. Her eyes sparkling. "You didn’t have to do that."

"Damn Llod, I had know idea you were holding out on me with your gil." X'tolzia shoots him a sneering look before laughing. "Ahahahaha, I'm kidding I'm kidding. They are gorgeous though, thank you." Her tone is sincere, and it makes Llod forget where he is for a few moments.

"Excuse me Llod." A tall Elezen calls out to him from the doorway.

"U-uh, y-yes, Wodrick!?" Llod spins around blushing hard from X'tolzia's thank you. Being gestured out of the room, Jaynee entering to tend to the two girls.

"Now" Wodrick takes a breath, his slim figure and sharp green eyes staring deep into Llod as he begins. "Cirina is recovering at a steady pace, I believe a few more days rest is all she'll need. X'tolzia on the other hand." He pauses "The aether flow in her body was disrupted, she no longer can use her left leg. A treatment is possible however, except that the required materials are not common and I haven't received any shipments as of late."

Llod's head hangs, she got hurt because of him. She wouldn't have been there if he had turned her away instead. But that no longer matters, what does is doing what he can to help her right now. He picks his head up, fired up.

"What is it? The materials, I can go looking for them and bring them back myself." He states, his gaze unfaltering. "Just point me in the right direction and I promise I'll bring it back, I have to. For her."

Wodrick, runs his hand through his shoulder length, white mane. Sighs, and agrees.

"Ok, its really only one thing I'll need your help locating. It's an herb that when its medicinal properties are combined with healing magicks, we can correct cut off or disproportioned aether flow with out bodies." He assures Llod. "Then I'll be able to correct X'tolzia's inner flow of aether."

This news brings a smile to Llod's face, he simply asks where its typically found. Wodrick says normally near the pixies home and Gridania. Llod nods and heads back into the room so he may part ways for now.

"Hey you two...Jaynee. I'm gonna have to head out now, and I wont be back for a while. Going on a little search for the doc in Gridania." He stops, not wanting to say anymore right now. "I won't be gone too long though."

"Gridania huh?" Cirina ponders. "Well if you ever need help, our parents live there and I'm sure they'd be more than willing to assist you. I even know a few of the resident archers from when I was among them. So if you need any help, just mention my name ok?" She informs Llod.

"Oh, thanks a lot Cirina, I'll be sure to ask for it when I get there." He smiles, then looks over to X. Her face of a brooding nature, her mind elsewhere. Overhearing their conversation with her enhanced hearing. Llod pokes her to snap her out of it.

"Gyah! D-don't do that, you know how easily frightened I get when I zone out." She shouts, blushing a bit staring at Llod. "Uh, well, that’s nice to hear though, about your little trip. I hope you return safely. I'd go with you but, obvious injuries ahaha." She chuckles, hiding her worries and fears.

Llod smiles at her, heads to the doorway, turns back and gives a small wave. Parting with them and heading to the airship landing.

Cirina and X are alone in their room now. She looks to her sister and waves for her attention.

"Hey X, are you ok? You've been a bit down even before Llod left. What's wrong?" Worry creeps over her face as she questions X'tolzia.

She is silent, the room still. Gripping her bed sheets tighter nearly puncturing the cloth with her nails.

"I just...I heard what they were talking about. And I knew it even before then. I cant walk on my left leg anymore." She pauses, Cirina's eyes grow wide in disbelief. "According to what Wodrick told Llod, the hit I took messed up my body's aetherial flow, and now my leg is unable to move."

"Is that why Llod went to Gridania then?" She asks.

"I don’t know, it got harder to hear with Jaynee being herself haha. So I'm assuming so, I just hope he comes back ok. Even if he can't help fix my leg." X'tolzia lays back down, turning her head to the nearby window.

"He'll be fine, I'm sure of it." She copies X's previous movements. "From what you’ve told me, he’s never one to let someone down right?” She turns over to look at X. “Pluuuuus, I can see he cares about you a lot sis. Even how much you like him. Mhmhm." She snickers.

"That's not even remotely true!" She exclaims, her face as red as a tomato. She fiddles with her fingers. "I mean, he is kinda cute and all, but we're just friends and comrades. N-nothing more Cirina." X'tolzia reassures but is terrible at hiding her feelings.

"If you say so sister." Cirina says in a mocking tone. "Goodnight~" She lays down for good, falling asleep only a few moments later.

X is still awake, thinking of the comments Cirina made regarding Llod. She ponders what he is doing now, if he is safe on his way to Gridania. She wishes he come back safe, as she does off to sleep.

[realacecowboy]

I need to rant some feelings out. Don’t mind me. Typing it out just helps.

As an introvert, most of the time with this whole covi*d isolation stuff, I’m usually pretty okay. Before all this I’d see friends sometimes. Truth be told, my RL friend group consists basically of 2 people and their BFs who I see, because usually they bring them along. That’s fine. I don’t mind them coming along.

But some chunk of that is because I am in the panhandle where hurricane michael hit. It caused a good chunk of my friends to have to uproot and move elsewhere.

I WAS trying to expand and branch out to meet new people. But one friend is an extreme introvert, so they don’t have too many friends I could meet (and by that, they really don’t have friends too much other than their BF’s game group who are all usually much older men). My other friend has diver friends, so they normally do that, which leaves me out of a lot (not saying they shouldn’t dive, just means I can’t go along). They say I should meet their one set of friends, but that never happened, and then the pandemic hit, so... that’s still not going to happen. But I always wondered if it would ever happen anyway. I know I’m a certain kind of personality and I’m not for everyone. It is what it is.

I’m glad I have my dog. He’s helped a lot. I would be in a much worse mental state without him.

But this isolation gets rough. It’s only getting more grating when my main point of socialization online was RP. Now I know the community on here has kind of fizzled out, and most of what’s left that I’ve been able to find are smut only rpers. Works for them, but being a demi-sexual/asexual really keeps me limited. I don’t write smut and people don’t want to write with people who wont write it 9/10 in my experience.

The very few RP partners I have / had have things going on in life, which is more important to deal with. I don’t blame them a bit.

Sometimes I just think I should quit RP. Because what’s the point? I just don’t want to abandon my Muses because I do absolutely love them so much and enjoy writing them interacting with characters that are not my own.

I also sometimes feel like / wonder if the people I do get to RP with actually want to, or they feel an obligation to at this point. I am sure this is all in my head and dealing with my past with emotionally abusive ex friends and family. I am still actively working to tell myself it’s not that at all, and people are just busy and just don’t have the muse for my threads. It happens. I know because it’s happened to me before with threads. (Same principle applies to RL friends. Still working on it.)

I can’t tell you the last time I’ve had a solid time of needing to reply to anyone. Now I’m lucky if I get to write one reply once a month.

It just sucks feeling isolated even online and it feels a lot like I don’t have many people to talk to. And the few people I can talk to, I feel like I talk to them too much, and I don’t want to be the annoying person who feels the need to message someone every day. I try very hard not to be that person and give everyone space.

And on top of that my AC has been busted for well over a month, so if I want to be in a comfortable room, I’m stuck in my bedroom with the portable AC I had to buy until my system is fixed. It’s been a nightmare and sometimes the portable AC just makes my room doable, temp wise. I’m in florida and the poor thing can only do so much. It really isn’t healthy being stuck in a single room for this long. And with the pandemic, it’s not like I can just up and take Newt to a dog park or dog friendly place. I’ve already had covid once, and I will do whatever I can to not get it again.

In short, this sucks. I’m frustrated. I know it will get better eventually. It’s just not a great time for my mental health.

[stargazedwinchester]

Remembering You pt.2 | Dean

Part two to this request here! Thank you for waiting patiently, I have been super busy (unexpectedly) the past few days, and I start training for my new job on Monday so I wont be able to upload much until I properly start.

Word count: 1,457

Warnings: one swear word towards the end

--

Three hours have passed since you were laid in bed conversing with Dean. You find yourself sat in the lobby of the bunker reading a book that was left on the table. The bunker was so quiet, you could hear your own breathing, Sam had isolated himself into his room, while Dean was probably cooped up in his bed watching chick flicks that he swears he hates. You flip the page and the words practically jumble themselves around you, you forcefully stare at the words to try and make out what they say, but you struggle. You place your finger underneath the first word on the page, attempting to pronounce it. “Y/N.” You hear Sam speak, “Do you wanna come to the store with us?” Dean asks, leaning against the archway. “Y/N?” Sam calls again, and you don’t respond. You assumed they were speaking to each other, so you ignore them. Focusing on the jumbled letters, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn around. Dean squeezes your shoulder. “We have ourselves a little bookworm, huh?” He chuckles, a grin forming on his face. You chuckle too, unsure on what to say. “So, do you wanna?”

“Want to what?” You ask him, your eyes glancing at Sam. “Come to the store with us.” Sam says, pushing himself off of the archway. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t know you were asking me.” You say, closing the book and pushing your chair outwards. “Yeah, we tried grabbing your attention like, 3 times.” Sam says, his eyes darting to Dean. “Is she forgetting her name?” Sam mouths, and Dean shrugs quickly, you walk over to the coat rack and put your coat on. “Let’s go.” You mention, walking past the brothers and up the small stairs. “Y/N, the stairs to the outside are up there.” Dean points to the curved stairwell, and you nod. “Got it.” You sheepishly make your way over to the staircase and exit with Sam and Dean trailing behind.

--

You arrive at the store, and you haven’t the foggiest where you are, or what the store is called. You try to make out the name of the store in your head, but the letters are still jumbled. “Where are we?” You turn around to Dean, who locks the Impala. He looks up at you, with confusion in his eyes. “This is your favourite store, Y/N. You can’t recognise it?” Dean asks you, and you shake your head. “No, I don’t. Why?” You ask, and Sam shares a look with Dean. “Uh, nothing. Let’s just go get what we need.” Sam says, ushering you towards the entrance, hovering his arm across your back.

Dean tells you to get whatever you like, so you smile, and wander around the store, looking at everything on the shelves. Dean takes Sam to the other side of the door and shares a concerned look with Sam. “She’s losing her memory so quick, man. She didn’t remember the name of the store she came to! She loves this place!” Dean exclaims quietly, and Sam moves his weight onto his left leg. “I know, Dean. I…” Sam pauses, thinking of a thousand different things at the same time. “I don’t know what we could do, maybe the witch that created the spell and zapped Y/N’s memory could help but…” He stops and raises his eyebrows. “I don’t know, Sammy. Maybe Rowena can help? She’s not the best person to ask, but it’s better than nothing.” Dean shrugs his shoulders, and looks over at you with a basket filled with food. “She’s my girl.” He smirks, making Sam scoff, and they both make their way over to you.

“Can you take it? It’s heavy.” You complain, handing the basket to Dean, and he takes it. You all arrive at the checkout and scan the items and Sam pays for it. You return to the car and unload the bags into the backseat with you, Dean drives off back to the bunker.

Sam unlocks his phone, and shoots a quick text to Rowena, pleading for her help. She instantly reads the message, and replies;

‘Since it’s Y/N, I’ll gladly offer my services.’

Rowena always had a special place in her heart for you, and she would practically die for you if she had to. Sam smiles at the text and proceeds to inform her on the situation, and ask her multiple questions on how she can help and what it will take to reimburse your memory.

--

The next day, you wake up and immediately fall hungry, you go to the kitchen and find Sam cooking eggs and meat-free bacon. “Hey, Y/N.” He turns around and greets you. “Do you want some breakfast? I’m making eggs and bacon.” He smiles, and you shake your head. You attempt to say “No, thank you.” But nothing comes out. It feels like your throat had been glued up and you couldn’t talk. You grab Sams attention and he immediately stops what he’s doing and calls for Dean.

Rowena arrives as soon as Sam called, you were sat at the table in the lobby, unsure what to do with yourself. Sam and Dean talked among themselves while Rowena fixed up the potion to help you regain your memory. She used, what seemed like, hundreds of ingredients, ranging from spices to a rabbits foot, to an enchanted piece of fruit, stuff that you’d never think would help you regain your memory, but seeing as you weren’t a witch, you assumed things like this were normal for them, and clearly abnormal for you. Rowena poured everything into a bowl, and made a cut in her hand, and poured her own blood into the ingredients. She looks up at you with caring eyes, “The spell needs witch blood for it to work, dear. Don’t fret.” She says, smiling at you. You smile back, and then look over at Dean that was already looking at you.

He was worried about you, and did everything he could to keep your memory alive, to make the curse go away, in some aspects. To make it stop. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to his girl, he adored you with all of his heart and he would die if it meant the pair of you couldn’t be together. He smiles at Sam, then makes his way over to you, sitting in the chair next to you, placing his hand on top of yours. You look up at him, and he assures you it’ll be alright, that nothing is going to hurt you, and Rowena agrees. You smile at the thought of the both of them helping you, including Sam. “Are you ready?” She asks you, and you nod. Dean removes himself from his chair and steps back. Rowena proceeds to shout something in a language you can’t decipher, and a bright purple light flashes from the bowl, you feel a wave of something coming over you, but you don’t know exactly how to describe it. Suddenly, it feels as if your brain had been switched with another, and you open your eyes, seeing nothing but blurriness and discolouration.

“How’re you feeling?” Dean asks, and you move your head towards the sound of his voice. You look up, and see Sam, Dean and Rowena standing around you, making sure you’re okay. “What happened?” You ask, then suddenly panicking. “Where am I? Where’s the witch I just killed?” You frantically get up from your seat and look around, the blurriness disappears from your sight and you notice you’re at the bunker. “The witch that you killed wasn’t actually dead. He put a memory spell on you and you forgot how to do a lot of things. We called Rowena for help.” Sam summarizes, and you take a deep breath. “Really? Wow.” You were stunned for words, and Rowena starts to pack away her things. “Well, boys, that’s that done. You’re welcome.” She says, picking up her handbag and looking at Dean. He stands up straight and attempts to say something, but Sam stops him. “Thank you, Rowena.” Sam says, giving Dean the ‘shut-the-fuck-up’ glare. Dean pursed his lips and stays quiet. You glance over at Rowena and smile at her. “Thank you so much, Rowena.” You say to her, and she nods her head. “Anything for you, Y/N.” She says, and exits the bunker.

“That was my idea, bringing Rowena here.” Dean takes credit for Sam, and Sam huffs. “No, it wasn’t.” He says, and Dean smirks, and you laugh at him. “I’m just glad you’re back, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He says, truth and sadness in his eyes.

“I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want anything happening to my girl.”

[shametheshadow]

It's been a while. A lot of shit's been going on since I was last kinda active. Sorry, I dont remember how to hide this under a read more line... feel free to scroll past if you arent in the mood for existential whinging. I got a new job and it's pleasant. The people are nice. It's still food, but it's at a fancy restaurant where the management actually cares and tries to keep their crew happy. The hours could be better and I'm currently sick of salads with how many I've made. They give hours based on reliability and if you're a hard worker who is nice to work with. But like... everybody is nice and hard working so it's hard to just muscle in sometimes. But on the positive side I've dropped ten pounds, probably thanks to how light my wallet is. Had an issue with my little brother. Well, there's been an unspoken issue for years that I've been trying to just give him space on, but it finally came to a head. I called him out and he said some pretty hurtful things. I saw him on Christmas, but it wasnt the same. I think it kind of damaged something between us, or at the very least it certainly has me. I think, as people, we build these pillars of absolute truths into our identities. The things we know without a doubt, that we can rely on to stay true even when things are bad. Like, that the sky is blue or that a parent we have will always love us. When those truths are shaken they really make you wonder what else could be wrong or if there was ever any truth in it to begin with. For me, no matter how bad I felt or hated myself, I knew I could be a good sister. I'd throw myself down for it. I have done so, unfortunately, many times before. We all see the world a little differently, so my truth may not be the truth someone else sees. I dont know whether that makes it any better, but I certainly feel unsure about more things now than I used to. Some days I even feel like giving up on our relationship. I'm just too tired, too worn down, and I don't think I can handle being called a failure again. Which sucks, because I dont really want to. I just want to know how to fix it, even though I'm not sure I have any more energy to try again if it's just going to lead to another failure. And on top of all of that my bio dad and all those siblings are tasting the bitter consequences of their actions. My youngest sister got taken away from her parents because instead of breaking up and being adults about it they have to be petty and cowardly. One has unchecked anger issues mixed with plenty of excuses and the other thinks she's owed some sort of respect despite her immature actions. Thing is, I've had plenty of talks with my bio dad about the effects their toxic relationship have on his 6 year old daughter. He knows. He isnt stupid or blind. He'd just rather keep it going despite everyone's unhappiness and dig a deeper hole so he doesn't have to risk losing custody of his daughter if they break up. And here we are now. With his daughter taken away and given to our 21 year old sister who doesn't have a clue. And they've failed to regain custody once already. And you know the fucking hilariously tragic part of it? Me and my sister Des are the only two without some sort of record so nobody else in the family can help. Just a fucking warning for any teens out there who think being a gangster is cool, life always has consequence. Doing drugs, selling pills, pimping, stealing cars, assault, having unregistered weapons... my family has probably done just about anything. Apparently my bio dad's stepfather even threatened to shoot my grandma once. There's an argument to made about the environment they all grew up in, but I really wish people would just have the self awareness to realize that things will always find a way to bite you in the ass and it's it big enough then it'll get the people around you too. I normally get my sister on weekends, but I need to work Saturdays as a requirement for my employment. I try to cut it short so I can be there when they drop her off, but half the time they dont and send her somewhere she isnt supposed to go. I'm risking my job trying to be there when I'm needed, just for them to change their mind at the last second because I wasnt home soon enough. They'd rather risk losing our sister to the system by breaking the rules. CPS doesn't play around. I've had to tell them two or three times that I couldn't take our sister because I was sick or dealing with some really stressful family stuff that Koral didnt need to be there to see. Every time I feel like the punishment is that they stop letting me see her by not bringing her over anymore. Then out of the blue they call on a weekday and ask if I can take her because she has a day off or something. I have never once said no but every time it sends me into an anxiety attack because I can't handle being kept in the dark until they need me. It's got me so worked up that sometimes I genuinely wish I had never been told my dad wasnt my real dad. Of course, I know that by knowing I can help a little girl who needs help, but I wont lie and say that I never wished I didn't have time deal with any of it. I got the news today that my bio dad is in trouble for something else, though they wouldn't say what. So they arent going to give him custody until that's settled at the very least. Shortly into it my sister had asked me to take over the guardianship. I was so out of the loop that I thought the question was absurd. I thought they'd pull it together and get her back in a short time, so what would the point of moving her to another town and school be? How would I go about that? What would the home requirements be? Would I be able to provide for the both of us? I wouldn't be able to leave work until 4 at the earliest shift, so would after school stuff be best or daycare? There's so much that goes into taking care of a kid to just spring that question onto someone. Now it's been four or five months and I'm hating the idea that she's stuck there in the middle of it all more and more. People keep telling me I should take her. Even my manager after I broke down and told him everything after my sister's call left me a mess at work, said that I would be the better option. I know what it's like to be fought over in custody battles and I understand way too well the fear of being taken away from your home as well as what it's like to change schools. I dont want that for Koral. I dont even know if I would be the better option. I talked to my cousin, whom I live with, about it for a while last night and she said she wouldn't be opposed to having Koral with us... but I feel bad making this her issue too. I want what is best for my sister. She's way too smart. You know when unqualified pet owners get a dog breed that is really smart and they struggle to meet the needs to keep it entertained so it just makes trouble? That is what my sister is like. My family has their strengths, but Koral is 6 and could run circles both physically and mentally around them. It might be "funny" now, but Lansing itself is a shitty influence on people and by the time she's a teenager and wants to go to a party, nothing is going to keep her from getting out short of bars on the windows and doors. The only thing stopping her from doing it now is motive. But would I do any better? I genuinely dont know. I wish I could talk to my brother about it. He knows where I come from and, even if he thinks I failed, he could at least tell me how to be better so I dont fuck up again for a little girl who is in a situation similar to one we were in. I asked Des today if she wanted to talk to their case worker about transfering guardianship. She said she's have to talk to her dad... which is bullshit. He lost the right to dictate where Koral goes when he fucked up. How is he supposed to be motivated to fix this if the only thing that has changed is that she doesn't sleep in her bedroom anymore? He shouldn't see her when he wants to or be able to say what happens to her. And I dont say that because I think he shouldn't ever be able to, because I want him to step it up, I just feel like he wont if things keep going as they are. I dont want to lose my sister to the system. Supposedly the social worker said that Koral also has to stay in the same school and can't see anyone not on the already approved list of people for the sake of consistency... but that's stupid. I know that changing schools can be traumatizing, and if Lansing was a good place to live and raise a kid, then maybe I'd try to make that work, but it isnt. So it makes me wonder that if I came to the table with a clearly stable, appealing plan would they change their minds? If it were my choice, I'd have her in therapy to help deal with everything, maybe a sport like gymnastics or whatever else she might be interested in to keep her engaged. I'm planning a kids d&d session for her and another kiddo that she plays with when she's here because last time she found my monster manual and got obsessed. And I know it wont be all good. She's a handful and a brat, and she can be a force of nature when she doesn't get her way, but I've been an older sister since I was five and my family didnt out up with bratty behavior. I know how to deal with it, and I also know how to use the internet and other resources to learn. Hell, I live with a child therapist/youth minister. I know I could do it. Even if it ended up being a permanent thing. I'm torn between the fear of not being enough at the expense of my sister's wellbeing and knowing that I'd gladly twist myself into a pretzel to try and do right. But when it comes to other people, especially a kid, is trying enough? Good intentions don't equal a quality of living. So yeah, that's where I am right now. Trying to be better and figure out who I am while also being incredibly stressed out and lost. If you read through this, thank you for listening to this TED talk. I'm open to advice.

[my-creative-hell]

Swapped (Body Swap au)

Curled up on the floor, Iden sits down inside Grave’s body as she watches him from within his own, a frown etched onto his face as she used it.

“You okay?” Grave questions, though Iden’s voice comes out, creating a strange sensation as she hears it back.

“I’m fine, just didn’t expect the pain… and the sight.” Iden explains, nodding as he attempts to adjust to the distorted vision and dull pain of Grave’s body.

“Oh…” Grave pulls a sad face as she watches Iden curl up. “I forgot to mention that… sorry.” She apologises, so used to the pain in her own body that it barely came as an afterthought to her before it wasn’t there anymore.

“Its fine… nothing I can’t handle.” Iden tries to reassure her, laughing shakily as he tries to calm down.

“Hugs?” Sitting down beside him on the floor, Grave opens her now large arms in a silent offer.

Nodding, Iden leans in Grave with his now smaller body, Grave wrapping him in a large hug as she gently kisses his forehead, a small smile appearing on Iden’s face as he hides in her for comfort.

“So uh… isn’t it nice to see colours normally? And like… everyday?” Grave speaks softly, looking around the room, using Iden’s eyes to see all the colours her own distorted vision had stopped her from seeing.

“I guess so.” Iden agrees, nodding slowly. “Just kinda normal for me… or it was.” He corrects himself.

“That’s nice…” Grave smiles as she points to one of her own orb creations inside the lab. “That’s b l u e!!!” She exclaims.

“It is blue, I think.” Iden agrees, giggling at her excitement as he watches her look around the room.

“It is! It’s a very nice blue, too!” Grave continues, feeling excited. “I like it!” She exclaims softly.

“I’m glad… something good comes outta this.” Iden explains, smiling as he leans into Grave gently.

“Now that I realise it, most if the shit that I’ve made aren’t the colours I thought they were!” Grave explains, thinking out loud as she wiggles happily.

“That makes sense.” Iden agrees, experiencing Grave’s vision firsthand, allowing him to understand as someone knocks on the door to the lab.

“Should… should I get it or you?” Grave questions quietly, looking down at Iden as he thinks.

“To be honest I don’t know if I can stand right now.” Iden admits, his body trembling slightly.

“Oh…” Frowning, Grave gets up off the floor and opens the door a crack. “Hello?” She calls out softly, leaning into Iden’s voice.

“Its me. Why are you blocking your face with the door?” Hannah’s voice answers, clear and stern as she speaks.

“I don’t have a face.” Grave counters, trying not to laugh as Hannah snorts in amusement.

“Mhm. Can I come in and see my brother please?” She questions, unphased by Grave’s use of Iden’s voice as she pokes her gently.

“Mmmno, he’s not here.” Grave lies, though Hannah doesn’t seem convinces, smiling softly.

“Grave I know what happened so I know he needs some help.” Hannah explains, able to sense the swap in bodies as she speaks.

“Hi…” Opening the door, Grave looks down at the ground as Hannah walks inside, looking at her.

“Hey hun. How you doing?” She questions, seemingly unphased by the swap as she pats her shoulder gently.

“I can see colours and my fingers don’t hurt!!!!” Grave explains, smiling softly as she raises her head to look down at Hannah.

“Well that’s good to hear.” Hannah comments quietly, smiling. “How’s he been?” She continues, looking to Iden.

“Uh… not good. He’s not having a fun time. At all.” Grave explains, frowning softly as her voice grows sadder.

“I know, he’s got a lot going on and a lot of new pain, but he’ll be alright.” Hannah reassures Grave gently, stroking her head in a comforting manner.

“You sure?” Grave questions, frowning more as concern swells inside of her for Iden, Hannah nodding as she closes the door behind her.

“He doesn’t like pain, doesn’t do great with it, but I’m going to stick around to help him deal with it so don’t worry.” Hannah explains softly.

“O-Okay…” Grave agrees, trying to smile as she watches her, though it still looks nervous and unsure.

“It’ll be fine. I just recommend we don’t tell the others until we can fix this.” Hannah reassures her, wrapping her in a gentle hug.

“Yay…” Grave returns the hug, feeling slightly worried, though she pushes it aside, putting faith in Hannah.

“We’ll get it sorted, why don’t you work on your projects while I deal with Iden. Or you can sit with us if you want.” Hannah offers, pressing their foreheads together softly.

“I-I’m gonna… I’ll make a thing.” Grave decides, smiling as she thinks over some ideas.

“We’re here if you need us.” Hannah reminds her, smiling as she sits down with Iden quietly.

Thinking through her plans, Grave opens cabinets inside her lab, pulling out the correct materials and equipment as Hannah pulls Iden into a hug, trying to soothe his shaking.

Grabbing some black paint, Grave smiles as she is actually able to see it, though she still feels slightly bad as Hannah manoeuvres Iden into a better hug, holding him like a child as she rubs his back soothingly.

Working fast, Grave begins making some small robots as Hannah watches, half of her attention on Grave and half on Iden as he clings onto her, hiding his face in her shoulder.

As she works, Grave cuts her finger slightly, though she doesn’t notice, too absorbed in what she is doing. But Hannah does notice, sighing softly as she smiles, knowing a small cut wont be an issue for Iden’s body.

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Grave to finish a few of the robots, some more small cuts on her hands as Hannah watches, stroking Iden’s hair as he dozes comfortably in her lap, Grave’s body exhausted.

Grave organises the robots as she paints them black, mumbling softly as Hannah watches her, smiling gently.

Grave grabs some more paint, feeling confused and excited at all the new colours as she paints more, Hannah shifting Iden carefully to be more comfortable as he sleeps.

“Aaaa.” Grave screams softly, the sound positive as she finishes painting, putting it down as Hannah laughs quietly, hugging Iden close to her.

Putting her head down onto the table, Grave taps her fingers absently against the surface as she debates what to make next, Hannah frowning as she holds Iden, able to feel him shaking again.

Frowning, Grave stops tapping her fingers as she looks to Iden, feeling concern rise inside her again. Whining quietly, Iden latches onto Hannah, hiding his face more.

Watching Iden, Grave feels concerned, if she could currently glow, she could be but Iden whines again, the soft glow instead emitting from his own body.

“Oh no…” Grave mumbles quietly, wanting to hold Iden but unsure if she should as Hannah shushes him softly, hugging him gently as he trembles.

Hiding her hands to prevent herself from biting Iden’s fingers, Grave curls herself into a ball, unsure of what to do as Hannah motions for her to come closer, keeping Iden hugged close to her.

Graved moves over to them, wrapping them both in a hug as Hannah holds them gently, feeling Iden relax slightly in their hold.

Smiling softly, Grave moves her hand to stroke it through Iden’s hair, feeling him lean into the soothing touch as she hums softly, kissing his forehead.

Iden hums in response, relaxing into Grave as she squeezes him gently, her feet tapping against the floor as Iden shifts in their hold, stirring slightly.

Smiling, Grave tries to stop her feet from tapping against the floor as Iden opens his eyes slightly, looking groggy and disoriented.

Poking his nose gently, Grave hides as Iden wakes up more, pulling her into a gentle hug in response.

Returning the hug, Grave warms up as Iden hums contently, snuggling into her and Hannah for comfort.

“Um… i-is it okay if I ask you something?” Grave questions, her voice quiet as Iden nods, leaning into Hannah tiredly.

“What did you dream about?” Grave continues, fiddling with her fingers nervously as Iden thinks.

“Well… you were with Leena and you were upset… something happened? And Leena got hurt?” Iden attempts to explain.

“Oh…” Grave frowns, feeling guilty as Iden hides his face back in Hannah, feeling exhausted.

“Well… its done now, so we needn’t worry.” Hannah reassures them both, smiling gently as she watches Grave.

“That’s true…” Grave agrees quietly, smiling as she wiggles in Hannah’s grip, receiving a gentle pat on the head as Hannah holds onto the still exhausted Iden. “This was fun, wasn’t it?” Grave continues, the sarcasm dripping off of her voice.

“Mhm, fun and exhausting.” Hannah comments, laughing as she gently strokes Grave’s head.

“Absolutely a m a z i n g, 11/10.” Grave concludes, leaning into the soothing touch as Hannah snorts.

“Think Iden’s had enough of being awake.” Hannah notes quietly, touching her forehead to Grave’s.

“That’s good, I think. Sleep is nice!” Grave exclaims, giggling softly as Hannah pulls her in for a gentle hug.

“I might have him spend the night in my room with me and Leena in case of any more… disturbances. You okay to spend the night with Jake to keep the illusion?” Hannah questions, voice soft and quiet.

“Uh… yeah!” Grave reassures her, smiling as she hugs Hannah back, earning a soft kiss on her forehead as Hannah stands, holding Iden’s sleeping form close to her.

“Hm… would it be suspicious id I wore one of my hoodies or nah?” Grave questions, fiddling with her hands as she stands up.

“Iden has some seriously oversized hoodies of his own I’m sure you can wear.” Hannah explains, smiling.

“Really?” Grave questions, looking excited and surprised as she bounces in place on the ground.

“Yup! I’m gonna take this one back so he can sleep but I’m sure Jake will come find you soon so I’d go get a hoodie now.” Hannah explains, laughing softly.

“Fff u c k y e a h.” Grave comments, stopping herself as she attempts to clip through the door as normal. “Gotta open doors now…” She remembers.

“Yup, that’s one thing Iden cannot do.” Hannah agrees, snorting in amusement as she opens the door for them.

“I mean, not being able to clip isn’t so bad when you can see shit like a normal sober person.” Grave explains walking out of the lab.

“That’s true.” Hannah agrees, patting Grave’s shoulder gently. “I’ll see you later hun.” She continues, a soft smile toying on her face.

“Bye bye!” Grave keeps her voice quiet as she waves, walking away quickly to grab a hoodie to wear as Hannah laughs, moving Iden to her room so he can sleep in peace.

“This is fuckin f u n and cool and stuff.” Mumbling to herself nervously, Grave keeps walking, her pace increasing as she scans the house, unable to see Jake anywhere near.

Not liking the looming silence around her, Grave starts to run quietly as Leena joins Hannah in her room.

“That’s not fun…” Grave comments, frowning softly as she looks around, wanting to see someone as she hears Jake’s voice coming from a room in the house, talking to someone.

Smiling, Grave follows the sound of Jake’s voice, able to see him sitting in the living room, talking to someone quietly over the phone.

“Jake?” Grave’s voice is quiet as she speaks, not wanting to disturb Jake as she fiddles with her hands nervously. Flinching, Jake hangs up the phone.

“Its you…” Sighing, he relaxes slightly at the sight of Iden’ body, unaware of the switch as he speaks.

“Yeah… is something wrong?” Grave questions, keeping up the facade as Jake sighs softly, reaching for her hand.

“Can we just… can we go in our room. I don’t want anyone else around.” Jake explains quietly.

“Y-Yeah…” Taking his hand gently, Grave leads Jake to the room as he follows her quietly, something clearly pressing on his mind.

“Right…” Getting to the door of the room, Grave remembers she has to manually open it, doing so carefully as Jake wanders inside, sitting down on the large bed in the room.

Sitting beside him, Grave fiddles with her hands in concern as she smiles down at Jake, watching him bring his knees up to his chest quietly.

“My dad was on the phone…” He admits, looking up at what he knows to be Iden as he speaks, his voice shaky.

“Oh…” Frowning, Grave absorbs this as anger rises inside of her towards Jake’s father, hearing him sniff as he leans into her.

“I tried to tell him to go away but he wouldn’t… I don’t know how much more I can deal with.” Jake admits softly, voice sad and tired.

“Nothings gonna happen, I promise.” Grace explains, holding Jake gently in her arms as she strokes his hair, able to feel him relax as he turns into the hug more for comfort. Kissing his forehead gently, Grave smiles as she holds him.

“Thanks for listening to me.” Jake mumbles, humming as his voice gets muffles by Grave’s chest.

“You’re welcome!” Grave exclaims, smiling as she continues to stroke Jake’s hair gently, feeling him smile as he hugs her back.

“I love you.” Grave speaks softly, kissing Jake’s forehead softly as she hugs him close.

“I love you too, don’t know where I’d be without you.” Jake comments, kissing Grave gently.

“Aaa.” Grave screams quietly as a wider smile forms on her face, a blush coming with it as Jake giggles, pushing her down on the bed to use as a pillow.

Lying down, Grave pokes Jake’s nose gently as she heats him up, hearing him squeak quietly as he grows tired.

Humming a soft melody, Grave continues to stroke Jake’s hair as he sighs happily, sleepier by the moment. Kissing him gently, Grave feels Jake smile as he curls up more.

She continues to stroke his hair gently, feeling sleepy as Jake nuzzles into her, falling asleep silently as she smiles, following closely behind him.

 The room still dark around her as she stirs, Grave notices small noises coming from the other side of the bed, making her frown as she sounds her confusion softly.

As she wakes more, she can feel that Jake is no longer beside her in the bed, soft noises coming from the other side as she frowns more, starting to move slowly over.

“Jake?” She questions, her voice groggy and soft, able to see now that Jake is turned away form her in the bed, sniffling noises coming from his curled up form.

Sounding her concern quietly, Grave reaches out in the bed, gently tapping Jake in an attempt to grab his attention. But Jake whines at the contact, curling into himself more as he trembles.

Feeling concern bubble inside of her, Grave latches onto Jake, shaking him gently in an effort to wake him up. Jake groans as he is shaken, stirring out of sleep slightly from the movement.

Grave persists, shaking him gently as her concern grows, wanting to hug him and make everything better as Jake gasps quietly, flinching as he is pulled out of his sleep, still shaking.

“Sorry…” Apologising quietly, Grave moves away from Jake slightly, her concern radiating off of her as she keeps her voice low. Jake turns on the bed to look at her as tears well in his eyes, streaking down his face as he reaches his hands out in a request to be held.

Frowning, Grave wraps Jake into a gentle hug, holding off of saying anything yet as he sniffles, curling into her as his shaking begins to calm down.

Squeezing him gently, Grave moves to stroke his hair gently, feeling him lean into the touch as his shaking lessens.

“Mmmm…” Jake relaxes as he curls himself into the touch, feeling comforted. Smiling, Grave kisses him gently as Jake leans into her, sniffing some tears away as he calms more and more.

Humming, Grave continues to stroke his hair as she taps her feet against the bed, feeling him relax into her as he stops shaking, feeling calm and safe in the embrace.

“Can I um… can I ask you something?” Grave requests softly, thinking her words through as she keeps her voice quiet and soft, Jake nodding in response as he burrows into her.

“Uh… what happened?” Grave questions gently, her voice dropping quieter as her concern floods to the surface.

“My dad was there…” Jake explains, frowning as he thinks through his dream carefully.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Apologising, Grave frowns as she voices her concern softly, looking down at Jake.

“Not your fault… its only cause he scared me on the call.” Jake explains, hiding out of view.

“I know its not… but that still sucks.” Grave continues, stroking Jake’s hair gently as he hums, relaxing into her.

“…You aren’t Iden, are you?” He questions softly, voice muffled as he leans into Grave.

“What?” Grave frowns, pretending to be confused as Jake’s words cut into her, surprising her.

“Grave?” Jake presses, sighing softly as he hugs her gently in his arms, seemingly unconvinced by her lie.

“Nooo…” Grave continues to lie, scoffing as nerves run through her, rampant and panicked.

“Iden doesn’t tap his feet…” Jake frowns, peeking out from his hiding spot to look at Grave knowingly.

“Yeah… sorry.” Sighing, Grave looks away from Jake, feeling guilty as he thinks it over.

“Its okay.” Jake admits, poking her nose gently as a small smile spreads on his face as he watches her.

“I can see colours normally!!!” Grave exclaims softly, giggling as she hides her face from view.

“That’s good.” Jake comments, snuggling into here as he smiles, feeling better and content as she hugs him.

“I always thought your hair was a very dark blue…” Grave explains, her feet tapping against the bed as she pokes Jake’s nose.

“Nope! Its black.” Jake corrects, smiling as he hugs Grave gently, feeling warm and comfortable.

“I can see that now!!! Its very nice!” Grave exclaims, voice soft as she returns the hug, smiling.

“That’s good…” Jake mumbles softly, a small yawn escaping him as he curls himself into a ball.

“You get to see like this everyday…” Grave ponders out loud, feeling Jake nod in agreement as she closes her eyes, humming quietly. Feeling safe and content, the two of them fall asleep quickly again, curled up with one another silently.

[nitewrighter]

Do you have any Mchanzo fluff? Love the way you write Nite,がんばり続ける❤💙

Thank you!!! I hardly ever get requests for them and I’ve been meaning to continue my “Hanzo on the Watchpoint” fics.

…I guess this is less “Fluff” and more of “Two Grown-ass dudes realize they have a lot in common in regards to their fucked up lifestyles and weird combinations of flightiness and devotion to their families.”

This fic takes place after Take 2 but before A Conversation.

—-

It was 2230 hours, and the Watchpoint was in the midst of shutting down for the night. The mess hall was cleaned up and locked up. The training grounds were dead silent. Bastion and Orisa were running their evening patrols, ever the vanguards with Omnics not needing sleep. Mercy was still hard at work in her lab, of course, with Genji hanging around and helping drain her coffee to make sure she made it to bed at a semi-human hour as he was wont to do. Sleep, however, was a precious resource on the watchpoint, and one the agents of the reformed Overwatch had to take advantage of when they had the chance, and they were more than happy to with the previous night’s interruption.

After a lengthy tour of the Watchpoint, Hanzo was relieved to see his sleeping arrangements weren’t in a cell like the night before, however his new arrangements he also found questionable. 

Hanzo folded his arms, staring at the bed. “Is this really necessary?” he said, looking up from the bed.

“Somethin’ wrong with it?” said McCree, leaning against the wall next to the stairwell, “I mean you could ask Genji and the doc if you could crash on their couch–I’d love to see the Doc’s reaction to that.”

Hanzo remembered the coldness in Mercy’s eyes and the tautness of her voice from earlier that day and suppressed a shudder. “No, no I am willing to sleep down here.”  He gave a skeptical glance to another bed in the opposite corner of the Watchpoint dormitories, the walls surrounding it plastered with newspaper clippings and a tattered ‘Six Gun Killer’ poster.

“’Fraid that bit’s non-negotiable,” said McCree, walking over to his own bed, “Me being your probationary agent all. Plus I’ve already been sleeping down here.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“Watchpoint apartments didn’t feel right. Felt like I’d just trash the place on my own, to be honest,” said McCree with a shrug.

“Also minimalist. Easy to leave if you have to,” said Hanzo, glancing over at the few possessions McCree kept near the bed.

“Well y’know, if the Watchpoint itself ever gets compromised..” said McCree.

“You also positioned it so that you have a clear vision of the exits,” said Hanzo.

“Well that’s just common sense,” said McCree.

“…You’ve been on the run as well,” said Hanzo, looking over at McCree.

“I did mention the bounty on my head earlier, didn’t I?” said McCree.

Hanzo blinked. “To be honest, I had forgotten. I was just… noticing the signs,” said Hanzo.

“There go the backhanded compliments again,” said McCree folding his arm.

“You picked a dormitory where you were able to act the quickest when there was an infiltrator,” said Hanzo.

“Well you were the infiltrator,” muttered McCree.

“First to defend it, but easiest to leave it,” Hanzo said a bit mindlessly.

“Did I ask you for a psychoanalysis based on my sleeping situation?” said McCree, folding his arms.

“Should we not get to know each other if you’re going to be my ‘probationary agent?’” Hanzo arched an eyebrow.

“Well you could ask, like a normal person. Not play Sherlock Ass-Holmes.” McCree muttered under his breath before walking over to his own bed and taking off his hat and serape.

“You’re going to sleep already?” said Hanzo.

“Well as you recall, last night someone got everyone on the watchpoint up at three in the goddamn morning so he could attack two of our agents and yell at the rest of us like a nutjob. Orisa’s fine, by the way, thanks for asking.”

“The security drone?” said Hanzo.

“Her name is—Ugh,” McCree rubbed his forehead. “We’re all just background noise to you, ain’t we? You’re just here so you can stop kicking your own ass over Genji, and then you’re going to dip, and us, the people who care about Genji, the people Genji cares about, mean jack shit–That’s the deal, ain’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Hanzo’s voice was low.

“Well, figure it out before you hurt him again,” said McCree, taking off his shirt.

“I will try,” said Hanzo. McCree’s back was to him as he undid his belt, set the belt aside, and unceremoniously shuffled out of his pants. Hanzo noted the point on his arm where the metal of the prosthetic ended and the remains of his organic arm began. An image flashed in his mind of the bloody stump of Genji’s arm, the red stain eking across the tatami, the sound of Genji struggling to breathe echoed in his ears. Panic clawed at the interior of Hanzo’s chest. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. Run. He had to run.

“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer,” said McCree. Hanzo was suddenly thrust back to reality, his breath catching in his throat. McCree was standing in front of him in just a tank top and a pair of briefs and Hanzo immediately cast his eyes downward from the sheer whiplash of his mental image and the physical one before him.

“Sorry, I was just… thinking,” said Hanzo. He gestured at McCree’s arm. “How did that happen?”

McCree looked at his own prosthetic arm. 

“It was during the disbandment,” he said with a shrug, “Pretty shortly after I ditched… I guess maybe a part of me was still assuming I’d have a team at my back when… I didn’t,” he brought his arm down, “But that was on me.”

“I’m sorry,” said Hanzo.

“Eh. I’m pretty used to it at this point,” said McCree. 

McCree didn’t seem to want to go further into details than that, so Hanzo let the subject drop. 

“Welp, better settle in for the night. I guess Winston and Jack’ll have a better idea for what you can do here tomorrow.” McCree slouched down onto his own bed and picked up a pair of reading glasses and a well-worn paperback, lighting a small lamp clipped to the headboard of his own bed and reading. Hanzo wasn’t sure if he was making a big show of reading out of politeness to give him some space to disrobe for bed, or if this was just part of his own nightly rituals, then again, Hanzo was becoming increasingly aware of how much of a disruption his own presence was. Hanzo had folded his own clothes and set them on the footlocker at the foot of his own bed when he glanced over to see McCree still reading.

Probationary agent, Hanzo realized, He can’t let himself fall asleep before me.

McCree’s eyes flicked up from the page of his book at Hanzo, made eye contact, then calmly flicked down again. A still-spiteful part of Hanzo considered staying up as late as he possibly could, wearing the cowboy out physically and mentally. in retribution for the beatings sustained from the night before, but as Hanzo sat down on the mattress and felt it sink slightly with his weight, that desperate survivalist part of him said, They won’t kill you. Not yet. Sleep while you can in case they change their minds later.” He also knew sleep would put more distance between him and the residual nausea from being sleep-darted the night before. Hanzo’s eyes warily flicked back at McCree again. 

McCree licked a finger and turned a page and Hanzo laid down and pulled the sheets over himself. As soon as he was laying down, an exhaustion washed over him, his body leaping at the opportunity to make up for years and years of nights awake to the gray hours of dawn, kept going only by adrenaline, spite, and a desire for redemption. That same spite and stubbornness though, kept his eyes fixed on the cowboy, still reading his stupid little book, looking far older than he actually was with those reading glasses. He could stay up later than the cowboy. He knew he could. He could definitely, absolutely–

McCree glanced up from his book to see Hanzo had fallen asleep. McCree closed his book, took off his glasses, set both on the footlocker and turned off the lamp. 

Maybe it was a blessing that the night terrors only really kicked in at 5 AM.

McCree woke up to muttering in Japanese, the sound of Hanzo talking jerked him awake, and it took a few seconds for the haze of sleepiness to lift slightly for McCree to realize Hanzo was still in bed. McCree slid out of bed, his bare feet padding across the cold concrete floor of the watchpoint dormitories over to where Hanzo slept. McCree took a knee next to Hanzo’s bed as Hanzo continued muttering and thrashing in his sleep. That grayish-blue dawn light was lighting up the stairwell, and in its dimness McCree could make out beads of sweat glistening on Hanzo’s forehead, shoulder, and at the dip of his collarbone. Hanzo was on the edge of hyperventilating, his eyes squeezed shut, his knuckles white with his sheets in a death grip. He muttered something in Japanese again and his breath suddenly quickened and he flinched and tossed and turned.

McCree took a deep breath.

“Han–” he started and Hanzo suddenly flinched awake hard and moved to strike him on pure reflex. McCree managed to catch his wrist in his prosthetic and there was a half-beat where Hanzo was moving to counter, still on reflex, when McCree spoke and Hanzo barely managed to stop himself, “Easy!” he held Hanzo’s wrist, “Easy…”

Hanzo was still breathing rapidly, his eyes flicked around the dormitory, and then flicked to McCree, and then flicked to his wrist caught in McCree’s hand.

“Are you gonna hit me if I let go?” said McCree.

“No–” Hanzo seemed to be getting his breath under control, “No–I–I’m sorry.” 

McCree released his wrist. “Look, wherever the hell you were, you’re not there anymore,” he said, “You’re here now, you hear me? You’re here.”

Hanzo rolled his wrist, before looking back up at McCree.

“Do you need to talk about it?” asked McCree.

“I… not now,” said Hanzo. 

“All right,” said McCree, getting up to his feet.

A long pause passed between them.

“Nothing to say?” said Hanzo.

“What can I say? I’ve been through that shit and it sucks. Genji went through that shit and it sucks. It’s hard to see anyone go through that shit. No matter how much of an asshole they are.”

“It’s a torment well-deserved,” said Hanzo, wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead with a frown.

“Oh for fuck’s–There’s no ‘deserve’ about this shit, Hanzo. Genji wants the two of you to try and put what’s left of your family back together, try and heal from all that Yakuza shit. If you’re just gonna lie down and take the shit your brain hands you, how’s that going to help anyone?”

Hanzo was quiet.

McCree huffed. “Look, we don’t need to go opening up cans of worms right away at…” he glanced over his shoulder at the clock, “…5 in the morning…” he sighed, “But my point is I don’t think you’re here so you can keep doing the… up-your-ass stoic thing you’ve been doing to stay alive the past…”

“Decade,” said Hanzo.

“Decade,” McCree repeated incredulously. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, half the watchpoint’s going to be up in an hour anyway, you want to sleep in more, or should I pick the lock on the mess hall and fix us some eggs?”

Hanzo’s stomach growled. Admittedly the aftereffects of the sleep dart had killed his appetite for most of the previous day, but the prospect of actual food was welcome at this time. And it might provide a bit of mental distance from the nightmares. 

“I can fix my own breakfast,” said Hanzo, grabbing his folded clothes off of his footlocker.

“Yeah, but I fix the best breakfast,” said McCree.

“Is that a challenge?” said Hanzo, pulling his pants on.

“Genji did say you were competitive…” said McCree with a wry smirk, “It’s me being nice, asshole.”

“Yes, I could tell by the ‘asshole.’” said Hanzo.

“Come on,” McCree pulled on his own pants and shirt. “Let’s get some food. Winning omelette cook doesn’t have to do dishes?”

“I hope you enjoy doing dishes, cowboy,” said Hanzo, ascending the stairs after him.

[winchesterandpie]

The Curious Case of the Missing Sweatshirt (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1214

Warnings: None

A/N: Here is the first one-shot of the slew of “The Curious Case of the Missing Sweatshirt.” They’ll be unlinked to each other, and with a variety of characters. I hope you all enjoy the “sweatshirt thief significant other” trope as much as I do! Enjoy! Feedback is appreciated, and I’m open to suggestions for what else you want to see. Is there any interest in angst in further parts? Angst with fluffy endings? Gif is not mine. Love you guys!

It was a peaceful Saturday morning, and I was minding my own business. The bacon was frying happily in the skillet, a waffle was nearly ready, and the hot chocolate was almost the perfect temperature. Then, of course, all hell broke loose, as it is wont to do when all is running smoothly.

“Morning, L/N,” Nat greeted me sleepily. And then all at once, the assassin came fully alert, focusing in on the hoodie I wore. “Is that… Barnes’s sweatshirt?”

“... It’s… it’s a possibility…”  I turned back to the stovetop, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“How’d you get ahold of it, Y/N?”  The level of suggestiveness in her tone made my face even warmer.

“... I don’t remember.” That was a lie. I most definitely remembered, in high-definition clarity, exactly how I acquired the sweatshirt.

The air was suffocating me. Ash fell in a thick blanket on the ruins around me. With a groan, I tried and failed to push myself to my feet. I realized my hand was clutched to my abdomen and lifted it to examination.

Blood. Blood was everywhere. It spilled from my stomach. It covered my hand. Its stench filled my nostrils. The last thing I remembered, our cover had been blown. We had been trying to pass as a pair of civilians on a vacation. The target was an arms dealer, selling their weapons exclusively to Hydra, and they’d found us out.

The world around me blurred in and out of focus. Suddenly, out of the ash and fire, a shape came towards me.  

“Hey,” a familiar voice said, kneeling down at my side. “Hey, don’t close those eyes on me, L/N.”

“Barnes,” I coughed out.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m right here. We’re gonna get you back to the compound, and Bruce is gonna fix you up. You’re gonna be fine.” In an attempt to staunch the flow of blood, he pulled off his hoodie, balling it up and pressing it over the gaping hole. Two arms slid under me, lifting and cradling me against a broad chest. “Just hang on, ok?”

“Not sure I can do that.”

“Well, ya gotta, doll. Who else is gonna give me a hard time?”

“Sam, probably.” “I suppose you’re not wrong,” he chuckled. “Somehow I just prefer it when you do the teasing.”

“I’ll see what I can do, then.” I grinned slightly, my heavy eyelids drooping shut.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, nuh uh, doll.”  Summoning all my strength, I forced my eyes open a slit. “No closing your eyes just yet.”

“But m’tired, Bucky.”

“Just a little longer, Y/N. Just hang on…” His voice faded out, and I couldn’t hold on.

Blinding, white light was all I saw at first when my eyes opened again. Slowly, they adjusted, and I realized I was in the compound’s med center. On the chair to my left was a bloodied hoodie. On the right was a dozing Bucky. Trying to push myself up, I quickly fell back, letting out a grunt of pain which put Bucky immediately on alert.

“Hey,” he said, relaxing once his brain caught up to what was going on. “How’re you feeling?”

“Just great. Y’know, I was just hoping that a building would collapse on me, so I’m doing really well now that I can check that one off the bucket list.” He grinned at that for a moment.

“You had me goin’ there for a minute, doll.”

“I must’ve if I got you to sacrifice your sweatshirt for me.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a small grin playing at the corners of his lips. “Least I can do is wash it for you.”

“Not sure it’s salvageable at this point, you don’t gotta waste your effort.”

“Bucky, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting blood out of clothes.”

“S’long as you promise not to scare me like that again, alright?”

“Deal.”

I had successfully got the blood out of the sweatshirt, that much was no problem. It just… never found its way back to Bucky. I couldn’t help it - it was a comfy sweatshirt, notwithstanding the hell it’d been through in saving my life. Definitely not because the man’s presence was comforting and the sweatshirt was something like an extension of that. Nope, not that.

“Well, it’d be a shame if Barnes came looking for it.” Nat paused, filling a mug with coffee and taking a sip before continuing. “Looks better on you.”

“He’s out running. I should have time to eat breakfast and change before he gets back.” I moved with my food to sit at the kitchen island across from Nat.

“Ah, so you’re being sneaky with it.”

“Not sne-- Well--” There was no plausible defense I could invent. “Ok, yes. A little bit. But that’s beside the point.” “Is it, though?” Just then, the door to the living room opened, carrying in the voice of a certain pair of super soldiers and a very noisy bird.  My eyes went wide, and I looked to Nat for help.

She only laughed and said, “You’ll have to face him sooner or later. Good luck,” as she slipped out of the room. That wasn’t particularly reassuring.

“Yeah, I’ll go shower in a minute, but I’m starvin’ right now.” That was Bucky. Oh no. On the plus side, at least Sam and Steve wouldn’t also be present to tease me about it later. Subconsciously, I made myself as small as I could, hoping against all hope to go unnoticed as I ate quietly. It didn’t work. At all.

“Mornin’, doll,” he greeted cheerfully as he came into the kitchen. Act normal, you can do this.

“Hey. How was your run?” There, see? You can survive this.

“Boring. Same view as always.”

“Well that’s a shame.”

“Yeah. But I’ve got a better view now, so it’s alright.” Was he… flirting? With me? I was not prepared for this! “Is that… my sweatshirt?” Oh no. Quick! Come up with an excuse!

“Ummm... “ I looked down at it in false surprise. “Oh, I guess it is! I just got all the blood out of it last night, and I guess this morning I just grabbed a sweatshirt without looking.” That wasn’t half bad. Hopefully he bought it.

“Mmm, makes sense.” There was a glint in his eye that I hadn’t seen before. I don’t think he bought it. “Looks good on ya, doll. Maybe you should keep it.”

“See, I would but…” I trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence without incriminating myself.

“But?”

“But I promised I’d get it back to you,” I fudged, then sighed as he raised an eyebrow. “Alright, and it doesn’t smell like you anymore.”

With a shrug, he turned to the fridge and pulled out the milk, in effect ignoring my admission. It wasn’t the reaction I’d been hoping for, but I didn’t really know exactly what I hoped would happen. He poured himself a bowl of cereal, and the awkward silence only got louder. Bowl in hand, he made is way to the door, pausing in the doorway.

“Keep it. Looks good on you.” His eyes were playful, but the glint in them hinted to something I couldn’t put my finger on. “I’ll see ya around, doll.”

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[smoliboops]

so i woke up this morning (so apologies if i sound a bit off or groggy in this haha) but i awoke to a lot of posts discussing about “drama” and speciffically first saw @turquoisemagpie​ ‘s geniuinely curious post about the community’s status.

i’ll start off by saying 1) im also genuinely curious about all this. i care about this community and ive been in the tumblr one specifically for 4 years now, and this seems to be the first anomaly ive seen in my time here that hasn’t been one off but “underlying”.

2) im human, lol. i’ll be honest, ive never gotten involved with stuff like this (the only one i think would barely count was when the community was debating over anti’s portrayal back in december 2017). this is just what i think in as objective and analytical of a way i can place it, and it’s not wrong nor right. just my own thoughts. (also note, i have two exams tomorrow, so i  probs wont be on here afterwards anyway cos i need to study else i die lol, but i just wanted to chime in like anyone else would)

ok first point- the drama is not shallow enough to solely revolved around the intro outro changing.

it is not the issue itself; rather it is the situation, or window that is giving us a bigger picture in the new, wierd mood that the community has been in for a while. 

im human, but personally, in the large amount of time ive spent everyday scrolling thru the tag i have not legitamentely seen a post saying “oh i dont like that jack isnt doing the intro anymore im unsubscribing.” it doesnt seem logical to me that someone who dedicates themselves enough to the channel that they are a active member of the tumbtlr community, to throw all that away just for an intro.

what i have seen instead are 2 things:

1) usually when i scroll thru the tag and see a current hot topic, i try to scroll back up til i find the post that probably originally started it all. this, along with the first type ive seen in the tag, are people saying that “some people are unsubscribing cos of outro...how can they do that..they have to understand change is normal...people act like children sometimes...i cant believe it those people are not part of the community they should just leave...etc

2)the people i have seen saying “ah man i miss the intro and outro....i miss them it feels a little weird without them...i hope they dont go away forever i’d miss it”..etc

number 2 does not match with the people number 1 are talking about. unless i am wrong (i am human so if you have actually seen this on tumblr send me a link to the person’s blog or post) the people missing the outros have never said they would leave the community. Simply expressing a sentiment for something that has always been the norm that is now changing, that’s all it is for most people.

BUT, the misunderstanding/missalignment i see between 1 and 2, is that people in 2 is either being generalized/misslabeled/or lumped by others as the “leaving the community” group. and this can even apply to number 1, where some who genuine simplly want to say “the outro might be gone, but it’s ok to change” are grouped into the others saying “leave the community you kids dont belong here” and this is the window into the main problem i think in the community.

jack is changing. this is the happiest ive seen him be in 4 years and you have no idea how happy i am for him that he is choosing to take care of himself more and finding/discovering what he truly wants for himself, his style of commentary, the channel, and the community. 

No one wants to get in the way of that. not 1, not 2, no one here wants to legit do that because we all so so deeply care about him. he brought us so much happiness, friendships, friggin several couples proposed in front of him over the years cause he indirectly helped them find love. we care about jack so much, that as a community we’re trying our best to give him the best atmosphere to change. but it’s a big community, so of course people have different ways of doing so.

we love him fiercely, so we either protect fiercely or we speak up fiercely. and then the whole tag is on fire. you’re on fire. you try pouring comforting pics on it oh no that was gasoline help-

people want to help jack and the channel/community through feedback; if something is felt to be wrong by a person, they’d want to let the captain know that something’s amiss and how/why it is and if they can fix it.

people want to help jack and the channel/community by protecting/managing it; if we dont want to sink the ship, we have to keep up and remember the duties as a member what we should be doing so that if we see a hurricane coming, we can deal with it the best without getting the ship damaged.

both are good, you can’t have one without the other. without proper management the ship will sink, but if there’s a solution outside of protocol it should be considered. if the new idea/solution/feedback is faulty enough that it would put us at even greater peril, the rules serve as a guide of judgement in doing what’s best for the ship.

no one side is right on its own. if there’s no way of feedback or communication to the captain, or anarchy is assumed among the members and the captain is overthrown, the ship will sink.

cooperation is key. nothing is black and white, its gray and our relationship with jack is a conversation. 

agree or disagree, we need to not dismiss one in favor of ourself, we need to listen, be open, and use other’s ideas (whether good or bad, evil or rightous, selfish or selfless, or just plain neutral) in forming our own and vice versa, creating a cycle of healthy conversation rather than attacking or defending blindly. 

and as well, the captain has had years of hard work, dedication, knowledge, and experience to get to his position. and ultimately it is Jack who is the one to decide how to run this ship. there can be members whose feedback is unjustified, or even hate-filled. there can be members who feel a one particular way is the right one over all else . but Jack is the one who chooses what to take into himself and the channel. does he think this feedback is valid? he’s open to taking it into consideration. does he disagree with it? that’s ok too, he still decides what he’ll take from it, good or bad, and move on.

experiencing things, toxic or healthy, we as individuals have the power to choose what to take in, not take in, and how we proceed with the information we take in. the actions of others have no rule over you, you rule over yourself. you choose what to take in and how. if we restrain ourselves/others, or protect ourselves/others, from this, then that right to choose is taken away before we even get a chance to choose. we just become isolated and very very, very alone.

tl;dr: TALK, FOR THE LOVE OF ANALOGIES AND GOD AND EVERYONE, JUST TALK CIVILLY AND NORMALLY WITH EACH OTHER. WE’RE ADULTS. JACK IS AN ADULT. CONVERSATE. NO ONE IS PROBLEMATIC AND NO ONE IS UNPROBLEMATIC. WE’RE ALL HUMAN, WE’RE ALL GRAY. WE ALL LOVE JACK WE ALL LOVE THIS COMMUNITY AND WE’RE ALL SO VERY GRAY AND SO SO SO COMPLEX AND HUMAN. SO PLEASE, P L E A S E

why dont you just talk to each other....

[derekscorner]

Between KH2 and KH3, which game did you like more, both story and gameplay-wise?

Ah is this that KH2 vs 3 debate I hear is ongoing? Well if you’re in for a sit I can answer that.

Gameplay:

From this angle I quite bluntly find KH2 Final Mix more fun. I’m not going to argue what was arguably better or worse, gameplay preference is a matter of…well preference no matter how many wish to deny this fact.

Not that you do but I”m sure some lover or hater of one will see this and try to retort. o3ob

Anyway; I felt Kh2 final mix was more technical and “harder” if I had to describe the feeling. Like 3 KH2 is normally overly easy but when put on critical mode it’s technicalities shine.I had to learn tactics, I couldn’t spam X or △, and I learned uses for summons. Which I found ironic since the 2 summons are far more useful when you dont initiate their moves.

Like if I let Stitch wander the screen he’ll deflect projectiles and keep my MP full. Chicken Little is a great early Magnet substitute and Peter Pan+Tinker Bell gives you a Phoenix Down.This was an improvement to KH1 in which only Tinker Bell was a spell with decent combat use. 1′s other summons had more supplemental uses imo.

KH3′s summons were nearly win buttons I felt. Simba in particular, while damn spectacle, felt broken. I never bothered to learn them as I didn’t need them. Which I’m sure they have their own uses but I’m not really fond of many control schemes for them so I opt out of it.

In terms of the magic system I felt 2 and 3 were opposites. In KH3 magic is far too powerful, something many have noted. And while you dont ‘have’ to use it that’s not an excuse for a problem. You should choose not to use it not force yourself to ignore it for challenge.

KH2 on the opposite spectrum made magic nearly useless I felt. Many enemies didn’t stun nor have elemental damage. Fire’s AOE animation was good for early Critical game and Blizzard helps that first Hollow Bastion visit but many enemies shrug the base spells off later.In contrast, KH2′s Magnet and Thunder spells can be OP. Reflect in of itself is practically the only spell you’d ever need to use due to it’s nature.

So while many have long rants on either’s magic system I dont really think one trumps the other. each one is equally flawed with issues I dont see ever being addressed.

In terms of keyblade combat I preferred KH2′s because I felt like Sora was automated in 3. I spam X cause I’m a scrub at timing presses (DMC5 is helping me overcome that) and due to this I noticed real quick that Sora’s combos just felt really automated.

Like I’d press X for one hit and get three. In contrast, KH2′s combat is harder. Sora animates combos as fast as my lazy ass can spam X and I’m not floating around like a final fantasy god.

I’m not really sure how to put this feeling into words but I do feel Kh2 keyblades are funner or snappier to combo whereas in KH3 I’m playing a watered down FFXV with it’s hold/press X for combo string.

Both games are so similar outside this issue that I dont see no reason to list likes or dislikes. If anything, from here, KH3 had great quality of life changes. The menu system was easier on the eyes and I’d be a damned soul if I didn’t admit I like switching keyblades mid-combat.

I also really appreciate KH3 finally using Re:Coded’s keyblade ideas. It’s been there since that DS game yet no one every expanded on making keyblades unique since. It was a very foolish step backward to me.

I love that keyblades level up, I love that each one has a preference and the only way that could’ve been better is if they adapted Coded’s system entirely and gave each keyblade (or most) it’s own unique combo.

KH2 quite frankly just falls short in a hindsight perspective since keyblades were “stat sticks” and you only ever chose weaker ones for an ability. Which, back then, was a huge step up from KH1.

So KH3 wins in this area I also dont really hate on Kh2 for it since KH2 is a product of the era. This idea of keyblades growing with you didn’t happen till Re:Coded.

As for Shotlocks…I dont like them. I hated them in BBS and I hate them here. It’s not even a comparison to KH2 type of opinion. I hate Shotlocks, I never use shotlocks so I’m going to skip those.

I mean sure, KH2 had limits but the only limits I use are Knocksmash so I can’t exactly praise KH2′s half of that either.

And when it comes to Forms vs Transformations I think both have pros and cons the other lacks. For example, some Transformations are really cool, I love the hammer weapons or the dual pistols.

I also believe the staff transformation is what KH2′s wisdom form should’ve been in terms of how it does magic or basic attacks.

That said, I also really dislike many second forms keyblades have. I never evolve the pistols into the bazooka, I never turn the hammer into the drill, I have those second forms. It’s to the extent I prefer keyblades that have one form such as the staff.

I’m also not fond of the Kingdom Key’s 2nd form change. It’s a neat throwback and I love the outfit recolor but I dont find it fun to use.

Between the two games my favorite forms are Valor Form, Anti-Form, and the Staff Transformation. Odds are I wont use anything else unless I feel particularly bored.

I might use others more often if KH3 forced me to rely on them for tactics but as of right now it does not. This may change with 3 gets it’s Critical Mode DLC. Similar to how KH2FM forced me to rely on forms I hate like Wisdom or Final.

As a concept I will admit that I dislike transformations. I dont like the idea of keyblades becoming magical swiss army knives. KH3 pulled the idea off better than I expected but I dont like it all the same.

The only, and I mean only, thing I felt KH2 did better was tie forms to a meter. In KH3 the commands appear randomly (and often) and I dont gain consequences for using them.

In KH2 this was tied to your Drive Gauge. You had to plan what you used and this is an issue I felt KH3 had as a whole. Rather than shotlocks, I’d have preferred that Focus Gauge to be reserved for my summons and forms so that I could have better control of what I picked and to reduce how broken they are in-game.

The rest is miscellaneous opinions so I’ll rapid fire:

Gummi Ships: always hated them, BBS did Gummi Ships best. Point goes to KH3 here since I can at least skip most of it.

Minigames: I’ve never found a KH minigame fun. No one wins here

Worlds: KH3 wins this aspect too. World towns have actual people in them and when it uses original plots the worlds are quite good. I also appreciate the power to explore and soft platform again. It gives me a more immersive feeling than later titles ever have. (although I feel KH1 was still better than both here)(entirely because of how many small details/cameos/secrets a KH1 world had compared to sequels)

I dont really have a more technical opinion than that. I do however think Arendelle was a horrendous world and I hate to even be there. For a myriad of reasons….reasons that would be a rant post of it’s own.

Lil Chef: I never use the food. I dont care if it’s a good spot for ingredients. If I want to cook stuff I’ll do some irl or play FFXV.

Enemies: KH3 used nobodies more than KH2 did and I find that a damn crying shame. I also felt Unversed were underutilized. KH2 still takes the point here due to the combat points I mentioned above.

KH3 fodder is prettier and can be more elaborate but KH2 is funner to play and destroy them in so KH2.

The Disney Rides: I don’t use them, they break the game. I do like the choo choo though since it’s situational to specific battles. KH2 has nothing akin to these so there’s no comparison, I just wish the rides could be disabled or that they worked more like the train. (set to key fights)

KH2 vs KH3 Commands: Eh both aren’t that good. KH3 spams you commands to shift through and KH2 has so many for spectacles sake that the games get easy. There is no winner here, if anything KH2 should’ve restricted these like KH3 restricts the Train ride summon.

Final Fantasy: I dont like FF games but I consider the ones of Kh1 part of the main cast. Their alternate KH selves are important to me. The lack and fading of FF over the years is quite honestly something I dislike and 3′s total lack of them is inexcusable to me. KH2 takes this point since I got to at least meet Leon and crew again.

Then there’s the story.

Anyone that’s followed the blog or met me knows I strongly dislike the direction of KH’s story. It’s not a matter of things others debate, I do not like it. I hate it and I’m still teetering on quitting.

I wont even go into the points cause I’ve made a whole series of posts about my story gripes. I wont link them since this isn’t a shameless plug, I just want to iterate that my issues with the story has driven me to make 20+ tangents plus the older more angry rants.

Others liking it is fine I think, I get easily annoyed if someone tries to excuse something out of nostalgia or adoration, but generally anyone that likes it while admitting faults or agreeing to disagree is fine. (you do you folks)

If I had to rank them I feel KH2 is where a lot of issues started and I feel a lot of issues got worse after since the sequels tried to “fix” that mess. If left alone KH2 would’ve been a poorly written entry and a good stopping point for any disillusioned fan.

KH3 as a contrast tied up everything after 2 up til 3 itself. I do not consider the story good, the pacing is very jarring because it lacks a mid point, it’s weighed down by all the BS prior to it.

I do not feel attachment for the “trios” of the series, I find the repetition of them annoying. I find it a shame most have more dev time than the originals they’re cloned based on.

And I frankly dislike Xehanort as a villain. He’s not interesting, his motives seem to switch with several report entries and I dont eve get the satisfaction of ending him like I did Xemnas or Ansem.

I was entirely indifferent to the entirety of this game’s narrative as I played it. Something that worried my friend @blackosprey because I was so tired I could not even care enough to hate it.

I did fine the trios reunions well done. I dislike them for a list of reasons but they were coming back anyway, their fates sucked prior, so those were well done. I finally felt hype when the LW appeared (only to vanish, fuck you nomura) and in the final battle.

The ending was confusing to me. So many got a happy ending so I fail to see the logic of Sora vanishing. The Luxu reveal, which I found fucking hilarious, was the only sequel bait needed.To have Sora just up and die felt like a stupid decision and I’m sure many more found it insulting.

And when mentioning Luxu I dont mean it in a sarcastic fashion. I genuinely find him funnier in retrospect due to this retroactive change. Nearly every line or scene he’s said is now funny as hell because he’s this ancient troll. I consider it the first legitimately earned twist Nomura has made in ages.

Still, KH2′s writing and story isn’t great either. I could rant why, I have ranted why, but despite it’s flaws it was an “ending” to me.So if asked 2 or 3 I will pick 2. The writing in Kh2 is bad for lots of reasons but if I ignore the Ansem reports it’s no a story about Xehanort.

Ignoring one KH2 report let’s me live this simpler story of Sora and a scientist gone mad and the journey to stop him. It had a lot of stupid things or one of the worst “twists for twists sake” moments ever in the ‘two ansems’ reveal.

But still, I can play Kh2 and be in a KHverse where Xehanorts, Keyblade Wars, Ceremonies, timelines, sleeping worlds, data world abuse, and clones upon clones dont exist.

It’s not nostalgia so much as everything I came to dislike was post KH2. KH3 was all about these things I dont like. My favorite for key and nostalgic reasons is KH1, my pick of the question is Kh2.

KH3′s best assets that can’t be contested was it’s graphical evolution. I played KH3 three times back to back due to this, I came away from KH3 wishing KH1 or 2 looked like this. No game prior contests the look.

So all in all, as I reread this, it’s largely a mixed bag. Neither game is grand but I prefer KH2 because combat is more fun to me and it’s not tied down by a narrative and mythology I’ve come to hate.

I can play KH1, CoM, and KH2 and never be annoyed about something I loved going in a direction I hated.

[d-noona]

The Make Over

SUMMARY: When Y/N L/N transformed herself into a striking redhead, the entire male population of Seoul stood up and took notice. But her make over was for Jung Hoseok’s benefit alone. He began to show interest in the new look but not in the way she wanted. Suddenly he was over-protective, perhaps a little jealous. It seemed that the idea of having a relationship with her couldn’t be further from his mind. The girl however wants more. So it was time for an ultimatum. If Hoseok didn’t want Y/N to lose her virginity to another admirer, he had no option but to make love to her himself.

Jung Hoseok x Reader

Auth Note: It's good to be back.

Chapter 07 - Fairy God Mommy

After that nothing could have made Y/N happy, not even when Mrs. Jung returned with her still apologetic mother in tow. Amazingly, Y/M/N was thrilled by the idea of becoming Mrs Jung's cleaner, then estatic when Hoseok explained his refinancing offer.

"Isn't that wonderful news Y/N?" Her mother exclaimed. "Now we wont have to have a stranger in the house. And you'll have money for yourself for a change."

Y/N smiled and said yes, it was wonderful. She smiled all through lunch and laughed when the four of them moved Mrs Jung's living room furniture to new spots, then have to move everything back again to their original places when the end result did not please Mrs Jung's creative eye.

No one would have guessed how wretched Y/N felt. She was a past master at hiding her feelings, especially around Hoseok. But her heart grew heavier as the hours passed. By afternoon tea, she was exhausted with the emotional strain of pretending to be bright and breezy when inside she was shattered. Hoseok's getting back with Tinashe the following Sunday was the final straw.

His eagerness for their reconciliation had been palpable, his body language reeking of sexual frustration as he'd spoken of his time away from Tinashe. He could not wait to jump back into bed with her. Y/N could no longer fool herself. Any attention he'd been giving her had been the result of his boredom, not because of any suddenly selfless maturity.

"You won't forget about the refinancing," she reminded him stiffly when it came time for them to leave.

"Not at all. In fact, your mom is going to provide me the relevant papers this very afternoon. I'll collect them shortly, Y/M/N, and have Sejin get onto it first thing this week, then I'll bring up whatever needs to be signed next Saturday." As Hoseok elaborates what he plans to have his secretary do.

"You coming home next Saturday, are you?" Y/N asked with a weary resignation. Normally, the thought of Hobi being around thrilled her to pieces. Now there was no pleasure in the news, only the cynical thought that of course he was coming home. Had nothing better to do till Sunday, did he?

"Yes, I've been invited to speak at a local business awards dinner on Saturday night. I'm also presenting the prizes" he says.

"How nice." Y/N answers blandly.

"Why dont you take Y/N, Hoseok?" His mother suggested. "The invitation says "and partner"."

Hoseok's instant frown was enough to turn Y/N off the idea, despite her stupid heart giving one last feeble leap. His eyes turned her way then travelled slowly over her. She could actually see his brain ticking away. Dear old Y/N doesn't look half bad now. She wouldn't be an embarrassment to take, not like she would have been a week ago.

"Would you like to go?" He asked her. "It's a black tie, so you'll need a dinner dress."

Y/N steeled herself to do the one thing she'd thought she would never do. Reject the man she loved. "Thank you Hobi," she said with superb indifference, "but I have other plans for next Saturday night."

His brown eyes instantly clouded a small stab of triumph lifted her spirits momentarily, quickly followed by a much stab of despair. Tears threatened and she just had to get out of there. Panic had her glancing around for her mother. "Ready to go home Mum?" She asked, determined to keep up the false gaiety to the bitter end. "I have quite a bit to do before the working week starts tomorrow."

"My working week starts tomorrow too, doesn't it Mrs Jung?" Y/M/N returned happily.

"Indeed it does."

"Thank you so much," Y/M/N went on, clasping her neighbor's hands with her own with rather touching gratitude. "For lunch. And...and everything."

Mrs Jung smiled and patted Y/M/N's hands. "It's I who's grateful. I've found myself a wonderful cleaner and a new friend as well. See you in the morning Mrs Y/L/N."

"And I'll be seeing you later Mrs Y/L/N!" Hoseok called out as Y/N shepherded her mother out of the house. "To get those papers."

"What nice people they are," Y/M/N said on the short way home. "And wasn't it kind of Hoseok to help us out with that money business?"

"Yes, it was." Y/N admitted, but tight-lipped.

A silence descended between the two women as they made their way inside, but Y/N could feel her mother watching her.

"Why didn't you say yes when Hoseok asked you to go out with him?" Y/M/N asked once they were safely alone in the kitchen. "It...it wasn't because of what I said earlier, was it? About not being...well...pretty enough for him? Because that's not true, Y/N. You're plenty pretty enough. And he really likes you. I can see that now. He could hardly take his eyes off you all over lunch, and then later he..."

"Oh Mum, please," Y/N begged. "You don't have to lie. You were right the first time."

"No, darling. I wasn't. I was wrong. Very wrong. And I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself. I was feeling sorry for myself, and I was afraid. Yes, afraid." She repeated when Y/N's eyes widened. "Afraid some man would snap you up, looking as you do now, and I'd be left all alone in this world."

"But today opened my eyes there's Mrs Jung, a widow like myself, but she doesn't sit around feeling sorry for herself. Besides her writing, she plays golf and bingo and bridge. And she doesn't tie that boy of hers to her apron-strings, either. I can see its up to me to make something of my life for myself. I know becoming a cleaner isnt much but at least I'm good at it, and it's a start. I might even go to that hair dresser of yours with some of my cleaning money and become a blonde!"

"Oh Mum!" Y/N exclaimed, a burst of very real joy dragging her heart back out of the doldrums. "You've no idea how happy you made me, hearing you say that."

"Do you forgive me for saying those awful things to you, my dear? I didnt mean them, you know."

Y/N couldnt help but relent. "Of course, I forgive you," she said gently. "I love you Mom."

"Oh Y/N," her mother crued, and threw her arms around her daughter.

Unfortunately , it was not the best of time for Y/N to be hugged. Her mother's display of affection tipped her over the edge on which she'd been balancing for several hours, splintering the brittle control which she'd been holding in her misery. Her shoulders began to shake as sobs racked her whole body. "Oh my daughter," her mother groaned, and hugged her even more tightly. "Dont cry, darling. Please dont cry. Oh, you make me feel terrible. If only I hadnt said those awful things, you would have probably gone out with Hoseok when he asked you. It's my fault!"

"No, it isn't," Y/N sniffled when she at last pulled out of her mother's arms. "Hoseok only asked me out because Tinashe's trying to prove some point or other and she's refused to have anything to do with him for a month. But come next Sunday they'll be back together again, as thick as thieves. Who knows? If she plays her cards right he might even ask her to marry him."

"What rubbish!" Her mother pronounced firmly, startling Hyeonji. "Hoseok is not in love with that flashy bit of goods. No man in love with one girl looks at another girl as he looked at you today."

Y/N was dumbfounded. "But I...I didn't notice him looking at me in a special way..."

"Then you're as blind as he is, my girl. You made a big mistake refusing to go out with him next Saturday night. Now listen here; when he comes over to pick up those papers, you tell him you've changed your mind and you'd like to go after all."

"But...but..." Y/N stammered.

"NO buts. You said he's not getting back with that Tinashe till Sunday. Make the most of what time you have!" Y/M/N pushed Y/N with both her arms on her waist.

"I was just going to say I dont have anything to wear," Y/N smiled weakly.

"Well, that's easily fixed."

"How? Hoseok's accountant can't get us anymore money immediately. And I'm not taking the cleaning money you earn, Mom. No way. One hundred dollars wouldnt be nearly enough anyway," she added with a sad sigh. "A dinner dress, complete with shoes and bag doesn't come cheap these days."

"Would five hundred dollars do?"

"Five hundred! But where?... I mean..." Y/N suprised at her mother.

Y/M/N smiled her pleasure at her daughter's surprise. "You're not the only one who has rainy-day money stashed away, my girl. Come this way."

Y/N followed, fascinated, while her mother led her upstairs and into the master bedroom where she proceeded to lift up the matress and draw out a battered brown paper envelope. She opened the flap and tipped the contents out onto the patchworl quilt. Notes of all sizes fluttered down, mostly fives, tens and twenties.

"I used to hide this is an empty washing powder box in the laundry when your father was alive. But now its safe enough out here. I know there's at least five hundred dollars, maybe more." She gathered the money up and pressed them into Y/N's hands. "I want you to buy yourself a dress which will knock Hoseok's eyes out!"

Y/N hated the wild rush of elation ehich flooded her heart, for she feared she was setting herself up for a disaster of monumental proportions. No matter what her mother said and no matter what dress she brought, how could she seriously compete with Tinashe? It was like comparing a nice little house wine with a top brand french champagne. Tinashe's extravagant self fizzed sparkled. She was special-occassion lady whereas she, was the common, everyday, value for money variety.

When Hoseok looked at her he only ever saw a familiar face. And everyone knew what familiarity bred. Contempt. Never chemistry.

Or was that how he'd seen her in the past? Dared she hoped that her new look had evoked a new appreciation? Y/N had told the truth when she'd said she hadn't notice Hoseok looking at her differently today. But after his news about Tinashe she'd been too upset to notice anything, and had avoided Hoseok's eyes as much as possible.

Could her mother's observations possibly be correct, or was she just trying to make her daughter feel better? She'd been guilty over her earlier less than generous remarks. Y/N didn't want to keep her hopes up. And yet, something was stirring within her soul. Something she'd never felt before. Sometjing rather wicked.

Tinashe had called her a sly piece. Maybe she was right, Hyeonji thought with a steeling of her spirit. Because I am not going to go quietly, Tinashe, darling. Neither am I going to let you have Hoseok back without a fight. Come Saturday night, I'm going to use every female trick in the book.

The trouble was...she hadn't read that particular book yet. She would have to depend on her feminine instinct. The front doorbell ringing startled both of them. "That'll be Hoseok," Y/M/N said urgently. "Now drop that money and go down and talk to him while I get those papers he wants. Tell him you've changed your mind about Saturday night, and ask him what time he wants you ready by. Be cool, though. Not overly eager."

Y/N shocked at her mother "Mum, you sneaky thing!"

"Well there is no point in being easy. Any girl who looks as good as you do can play a little hard to get. Besides, men never want what they think they can have, gratis. They like a bit of a challenge."

Y/N went down stairs shaking her head. Who would have believed that within her own shy reserved mother lurked the makings of a femme fatale? Heaven knew what would happen if the Y/L/N widow became a blonde!

Y/N summoned up a pleasant smile to answer the door, resolving to watch this time for any sign that Hoseok looked at her differently in any way.

"Hello there again," she said. "Mum wont be a minute with those papers. Look, about next Saturday night Hobi, that was rude of me to dismiss your very nice invitation out of hand. I know what its like to go to these things alone..."

She didnt actually, because she's never been to an awards dinner. But Y/N had never lacked imagination. Just think of all those times Hobi had made love to her in her mind. Unfortunately, she began thinking of one those times right at this moment. It was her favorite scenario where Hoseok was concerned. He would bring her home to this door after a serious date and there would be much kissing and panting on the front porch. When she finally unlocked the door, he would push her inside, then scoop her up into his arms and carry her upstairs to her room where a three-foot bed was no barrier to true love.

Her mouth dried as she thought of their naked bodies blended tightly, writhing together. Her brown eyes glittered as they began unconsiously to rove over the object of her desire. Before they reach his waist, Y/N swallowed then cleared her throat. "Er...could I possibly change my mind and say yes?"

He stiffened. He actually stiffened. Why?

"Is there a problem with that?" She asked airily, even while her heart was thudding. He stood there frowning at her. The atmosphere on that doorstep was suddenly charged with a quite alien tension. Y/N didnt know what to make of it except that she found herself holding her breath.

"Hobi?" She choked out.

He seemed to have to shake himself to answer her. "No." He muttered. "No problem. I'll look forward to it."

Y/N had to be careful not to let all her breath out of her lungs in a rush. "Fine," she said with a small smile. "Well, where is this dinner and what time should I be ready?"

"Its being held down at the League's Club, in the Admiral's Quarters. The dinner starts at eight. Pre-drinks at seven thirty. I'll pick you up at...say...seven?"

Y/N nodded "I'll be ready. And thanks again for helping us with the finance business."

"My pleasure." He answered.

But it didn't look as if it was his pleasure. Not at all. He hadn't smiled once since she'd opened the door. Y/N could not make head or tail of his mood, except that it was obvious he had mixed feelings about taking her to that dinner.

She prayed his reluctance was because he'd begun to feel things for her which he found confusing, and not because Tinashe might get jealous if she ever found out. Her mother's arrival at that point steered the conversation to a less stressful grounds. Hoseok left a couple of minutes later and as Y/M/N closed the front door she threw Hyeonji a questioning glance. "Well? What happened? You both seemed tense when I came down."

Y/N shrugged. "I don't really know. I told him I changed my mind abiut the dinner, and he agreed to take me, but not with great enthusiasm. To be honest, I think it worried the heck out of him."

"Well that's better than indifference, Y/N."

Nodding her head Y/N agreed "That's what I was thinking."

Y/M/N patted her daughter's back "Only time will tell."