#of course i love tiny sans too. but i generally prefer him being same as me

[cherry-shipping]

UUUUUGGGHHHHH I WANNA DRAW MORE TINY SANS UGH UGH UGH

[chil2de]

Your sharing a bed with the JJK men hc's were incredible 😩 special mentions for Megumi's bed head, Nanami being a secret cuddle bug, and Yuuta having to drink both iced coffees (that fucking sent me fjdndnfd I could picture it so clearly).

You're super talented so could I, er, possible get a NSFW version? 👀 💳💥💥💥💳💳💥💳💥

Thank you so much 🥺💕

hello anonie!!! thank you dear i’m so glad you liked them!! please the credit card emojis had me cackling LMFAOOOO you really made my whole day out here!!!(THE ICED COFFEE WAS MY FAVOURITE PART TOO)

well i managed to hit the max amount of characters allowed in a tumblr post with five characters alone so i’m going to have to split this up into several posts. it just kinda happened ig

characters in this post: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji (megumi was supposed to be here but i had to reserve him for next post😔)

this work is nsfw. if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer before proceeding. thank you and enjoy!

based off of this post

itadori

- itadori would prob be a ‘deer in the headlights’ if you woke him up in the middle of the night

- but after that? shit, he’s so nice to you. so kind and generous for his baby girl. whether he’s fucking you ‘cause he thinks you might be able to sleep after an orgasm or there’s just an incessant desire for him- doesn’t really matter all that much to itadori. he loves you either way :)

- gets horny so easily LMFAO

- would 100% dick you down if you asked him to and i like to think that he still keeps his really sweet personality during sex cause aaaa he would be so soft and reassuring

- hardcore dom yuuji sounds sexy as all hell but let’s be real… this man won’t kill a fly and apologises for stepping on ants. only exception being angry sex but overall reserving hard dom for sukuna :)

you pepper tiny kisses onto itadori’s face, treating him with the utmost care like handling fine china. his skin feels so soft against your lips, and he smells very faintly of milky soap. there’s some traces of brand cologne on his shirt, as well as his natural scent.

“yuuujiii-“ you coo, blowing air very gently. when he doesn’t stir, you run your fingertips through a bundle of his cotton candy tainted hair. it evokes a reaction from him, so you continue to press him.

“y-uuuu-ji!”

after a few moments, itadori lets out a soft whine before grumbling incoherent blabber. “i won’t eat the pineapple! kugisaki will scream at me!”

you giggle before prodding him again, when finally he relents and jolts awake, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted at how close your face is to his.

“‘s it morning yet?” he wrinkles his nose, stifling a yawn. you emit a hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you into him. itadori squeaks in surprise when he feels you latch your lips onto his neck, suckling and carefully breaking the bonds underneath his sensitive skin. his moan comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.

“that drives me crazy, you know that, right?” itadori laughs, though his voice comes as a wobble.

“i know. and they look so good on you too, hm?” you giggle, caressing one hand from his neck and then down to the hem of his shirt. your fingertips flutter against his bare skin and he shivers physically and audibly. you smooth your palm flat along his chest, dragging your nails carefully against his muscles.

“kinda.. wanna.. go to.. sleep.. but i don’t.. wanna fall asleep…” itadori mumbles against his pillow. the fabric muffles most of it, but there’s a strain in his voice that leads you to believe he’s moaning lightly. guess after sukuna ripped his heart out, this area hasn’t been quite the same, huh?

“so? then go to sleep, yuuji. i’ll be fine-“ “-no way! i gotta take care of you”

“so why don’t you?”

“‘m going to! i was asleep just half a minute ago!”

“and besides-“

he shifts himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the headrest. itadori opens his arms, motioning for you to crawl on top of him. without any haste, you clamber over his built frame, ghosting just over the print of his hard dick.

“not that i mind but- we did, you know, in the morning already-“ “oh, shit, sorry- it’s totally fine if you don’t want t-“ “-just messing with you!”

itadori pulls your neck down and gifts you with the same treatment you were offering him earlier. his tongue is hot and wet against your skin and you can already feel the precipitation forming at the back of your knees. calloused yet tender hands smooth around your waist and he smooths his palms over your shoulder blades.

after itadori’s satisfied with the mark he left, you can’t help but groan a little into his mouth when his lips suddenly claim yours. he drinks you up, relying solely on your taste like he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs.

itadori takes his sweet time cherishing you, or rather it’s still his state of half slumber, but you can feel a dull ache prick your abdomen. you scratch up his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. you’re unsure what comes over you, but shit, you don’t want him- you need him.

“heyheyhey, ‘s okay. don’t worry, i got you.”

“i’ll take care of you.”

“just relax, okay? i got this.” he only coos with sweet reassurances, peppering small kisses and handling you with the utmost precision.

you whimper, balancing your palms flat against his abdomen for additional support as you sink down onto itadori’s cock. he lets out a hum of content, forehead bumping against yours as he allows you to adjust.

“you good?” he murmurs after a few moments, capturing a few strands of your hair in between his fingertips. you nod meekly and itadori hisses out a breathy exhale. he’s sure that if he goes rough as shit you might end up more broken than being able to sleep, so he screws his eyes shut and exhales to maintain his composure.

blazing hot lips scrape against your ear, and his voice comes out in a husky tone.

“tell me how you want it.”

by the lords of everything and all that is holy, itadori only chants the same phrase over and over in his mind. it’s a miracle that he’s able to think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock. he’s more than happy to take it slow, reward you with slow and long strokes while he showers you with high praises. but he can’t ignore the twitch that he experiences when he envisions that pretty lil fucked out face of yours, all messy and ruined for him.

you mutter that you have no preference, that you don’t care because anything he’ll do for you is perfect, and it only gives him a beaming smile at your words.

itadori grabs the scrunched up ball of his shirt that he was wearing before ripping the fabric into half with his bare teeth. you watch his eyebrows perk when he notices how fucking hot you just found that, evident with the way your walls fluttered around him.

“here, babe.”

you part your lips and he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, there’s a little bit of excess hanging out, but he reminds you that you look sexy as hell either way, on top of his dick like that with your hands on his chest, legs spread, face flushed and ready for him.

“don’t wanna be wakin’ anyone else up.”

yuuta

this man is about to end my whole career

yuuta wouldn’t bring it up on his own accord just because… respect.. and he doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable into doing things you’re not ready to.

it’s kind of a gray area for him because he doesn’t relish the idea of bringing up sensitive and/or extremely awkward topics so he really said ‘i’ll leave it up to future me’s problem’

but holy shit. let me absolutely tell you.

the second you hint at it? anything of the sorts? 0 to 100. he is FREAKY you cannot tell me he’s innocent just LOOK at the man

can make you scream with ease. all that practice he’s been doing with handling katanas? he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum. will gladly lick up your leftover juices and remark with a smile on his face how ‘it tastes good, angel’

similarly to itadori, i think he would be sweet and patient when asking for your preferences, etc, but after that you’re gonna have to find something to bite onto

“and? what’d you tell her?” yuuta remarks from over his fanned out deck of three cards. his gaze flickers to you as he awaits a response before using his index and middle finger to lay down a +4 card.

“red, by the way.”

you huff and glare at your boyfriend, picking up four cards and attempting to hold them in such a way that they don’t all fall and rattle to the floor. truth be told? you’re seriously a sore fuckin’ loser. you don’t know how he does it, but you’ve never managed to win a game against yuuta.

“i told maki-san that it’s her problem, not mine. if she’s so pressed about people taking them, why does she keep noodles stored in the fridge? really, noodles in the fridge? they’re really spicy as well! made my nose run like hell.” you scoff in distaste, throwing down a random red card on the pile.

“you totally ate them didn’t you?” yuuta giggles, beaming you a wide smile.

“also.. told her that i didn’t see them instead but- yeah.”

“aren’t you worried she’ll find out? oh, and, uno.”

“she might just beat me up to be honest, and, uno, you say? not anymore, love.” you sneer, throwing down a +4 card.

“i want green.”

“i’d protect you.” yuuta states over his cards. you feel like cracking a joke and laughing, but there’s absolutely zero implication on his facial features to show that he’s joking. that, and his serious tone, of course.

you flip your cards down onto the table and yuuta squeaks, pointing towards them.

“uh- i can see your cards-“

“it’s okay, not like i was gonna win anyway.”

at this point, yuuta’s mind races a hundred miles an hour. he’s panicking, blood pressure raised, heart thumping and throat clogged. oh, shit, did he do something wrong? did he upset you? is it ‘cause he said he’d protect you with no regards to the fact that you’re perfectly capable of fending yourself off against maki? fuck, he’s such a god damn screw-up, can’t even take care of his girlfriend correct-

“hey.”

your fingertips slide around his neck, hands interlocking at the base of his head. your thighs balance on his lap and you straddle him, legs either side of his.

he can’t help but hitch his breath, holding it in as though one wrong move and you would dematerialise.

“what’re you thinking about in that head of yours?”

whether you’re referencing his mini panic attack just now, or if you’re referring to all the multiple times he’s battled just bending you over and railing the absolute shit out of you, there’s not much room for debate when you brush your clothed sex up against the print of his dick.

yuuta snakes his slender hands around your throat, holding it in place. you can feel the arousal pool and wash over you, and you’d be more than surprised if you hadn’t soaked through your clothes.

he lets out a breathy laugh, devastating your stomach with butterflies due to how attractive he sounds. yuuta’s soft lips brush the shell of your ear and his other hand moves to rest on your waist,

“why don’t i show you?”

before you can utter a tease something along the lines of “show me what? how you’re too scared to hit me in bed?” you’re already down, flipped over and bent over the table you and yuuta were using moments prior ago for uno. the cards have splattered all over the wooden floor and you only hiss in discomfort as the cool surface scratches against your delicate skin. your boyfriend towers over you, leaning down as his torso clicks into place against your back. even through his titanium white jacket, you can feel his calm and collected heartbeat. he rests his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into you.

“don’t scream, okay? or, try not to, at least-“

his warm fingertips ghost over the curve of your ass, where he pinches the skin there before delivering a loud slap. you squeak, back arching as you jolt from the action. he proceeds by grabbing the inside of your thighs, long middle finger hoisting around your underwear and pulling it to the side. he makes note of the red lingerie you’re wearing and gives you a small chuckle, peppering a kiss to the side of your face.

“-unless, of course-“

“-you’d prefer everyone hear me fuck you stupid.”

“safe word’s blue, angel. i love you and thank you.”

truth be told, you were never sure what to expect from yuuta. hell, you’d never really seen the man’s dick before, sure you caught glimpses in the morning whenever he’d wake up but it’s really not the same. nothing in the world can compare to the first time you felt his piping hot tip brush up against your slicked cunt. and it was embarrassing, actually, the way your pussy was seething for him already.

with a firm hold on your tailbone, yuuta utilises his lower body strength to ram his dick all the way inside. there’s a garbled and choked moan that hisses from you when you feel your walls wrap and deform around the girth of yuuta’s dick. you whine even more so when you can physically feel a thick vein that decorates his shaft.

“the mirror.” yuuta commands in a low tone, redirecting you to glance at the same mirror you’d always fantasised about him fucking you in front of.

his eyes are half lidded, riddled with concentration. it reminds you of that feral and focused gaze he gets during serious battles.

“don’t look at me. look here.”

you trail the outline of yuuta’s arm veins as a result of him rolling his uniform sleeves up; following his v line that points towards his dick. you can only gawk in awe when you realise you’ve taken him to the base of his shaft.

his gaze locks with yours for a split second and he snaps his hips out until just about his tip is visible inside your cunt.

and shit, if his pretty pink cock isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, especially with that attractive curve. you’re sure the gesture is just to wind you up, but you can’t help but swoon at him showcasing his pride to you.

“so- mmhf- pretty-“ you whine, words jumbled and breath caught when he slams his dick inside without any prior warning. you can only shriek in exclamation when his tip bruises your cervix, and you’re unsure whether you lament the sensation or not.

he only gives you a cheerful hum, reminding you of his usual cheery disposition. it’s not until then that you realise how much of a fucking beast he’s acting right now.

“right? i’ll put it to good use, i promise.”

gojo

- i know we’re all thinking the same thing here lmfao

- trying to sleep? good for you, now, open your legs for satoru.

- oh you can’t sleep? atta girl, down on your knees for satoru.

- bye i can literally imagine gojo saying some dumbass shit like “think you were trying to sleep but i couldn’t help but think how good my dick would look down your throat like that. sorry, love, you’re not sleeping tonight.”

you blink your eyes in turn with the cicadas chirping aside, stifling a yawn. everything around you down to the very last detail screams at you to sleep, but you just cannot. from the pitch black night that floods the room obscurely, to gojo’s even and quiet breathing beside you. you’ve tried it all. you’ve counted an excess amount of sheep, you’ve tensed and relaxed your body more than you can remember. hell, no matter how many times you’ve flipped the pillow you always seemed to feel less exhausted each time.

you can’t watch netflix, because you’ve binged all your favourite shows. it’s not that you’d wake gojo up because, who cares? by the time you finish scrolling through the endless lists it’ll be time to get up.

you ponder over the things you can do, continuing to subconsciously blink furiously. that is until gojo makes note of your stupid actions and starts giggling like a high schooler at his first sleepover.

“what the hell are you doing?” he snorts, cackling into the pillow like it’s the best joke he’s heard for quite some time.

“shut up, satoru. i’m trying to sleep you ass.” you tut at him, berating him for ruining your divine concentration.

gojo audibly shifts onto his stomach, his right arm crosses over the back of his head as he lazily rests his palm onto his scalp. the other arm preoccupies itself by landing it smack bang onto your chest, fingers wandering up to cup your breast.

“satoru, huh? that’s daddy for ya” he remarks, still giggling in a state of half asleep.

“uh-huh. goodnight.” you dismiss him and his nonsense.

“just go take a shower. always helps me whenever i can’t sleep.”

“hm? you’re giving me actual good advice and being a normal boyfriend? i think i might be asleep already, this is the best dream ever.” you remark sarcastically, prying gojo’s glued wrist off of your breast and sitting up. you could go for a shower, actually. you’re not sure why but it’s always so therapeutic to take one at night rather than the morning.

“huuuh? how could you say that? you’re so mean, (y/n)-chaan! i offered you my love and the world and this is how you repay m-“

“-goodnight satoru. i love you.”

“don’t think professing your love for me will change my mind! i’m still upset at you right now, young lady!” gojo shouts from over his pillow, exclaiming and irritating you in the way he knows how to best.

“yeah, yeah. okay.” you mumble softly to yourself, bearing a wide grin from ear to ear nonetheless.

when you move to crank the water on in the shower, you realise that you didn’t bring along a change of clothes. you momentarily pop back into the bedroom to ransack the drawer for anything that you can find.

“are you back to apologise for being so mean to me?” gojo whines and you can see the pout evident on him even when it’s pitch black.

“no, i’m just here for clothes, satoru.”

you hear him mumble something but it’s muffled by the sheets he’s underneath so you don’t heed any attention to it and resume in taking a shower to help keep your insomnia at bay.

with a ginger step and a small ‘oopf’, you heave yourself into the large shower that only a headass like gojo would bother buying. it’s reminiscent to what a hot tub looks like on the inside, with surrounding jets practically in a full 360 degrees. the things so steep that there’s a small step up in front of the shower outside the actual structure. it must have cost quite the fortune.

you reach in for the built in shelf to grab ahold of some of your toiletries as you allow the water to fall in a gentle sprinkle, almost like rain. there’s an audible squeeze reminiscent to trying to get the last ounces of ketchup as you apply some body gel to your hands, lathering it up.

despite standing, the warmth of the water leads your muscles to feel less tense. the only noteworthy downside is that the running water is tremendously loud. how on earth is gojo sleeping through all that racket?

slender fingertips ghost over your inner thighs. you can feel his wet and sturdy chest in place against your spine.

“surprised to see me?”

“you know i can’t let my baby talk shit like that.”

really? that’s his issue at hand here?

“so which is it?”

“acting like an intolerant brat because you’re tired or ‘cause you wanna get dicked down?”

gojo loops his arm underneath your leg, bending it up. you almost topple over in the process and you lay one hand flat against the tile.

“don’t answer that. sometimes it’s so obvious that you’re such a whore for my dick.”

“huh?! what the shit are you saying?” you snap at how correct he is.

gojo yanks your face back, digging his fingers into your cheeks as he forces you to face him. it almost sends your neck into two pieces, straining to look back at him.

“oh, really princess? just the other day you were begging me to fuck you”

“remember that? couldn’t wait so you rode me in the car? you know, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”

your legs tremble and psyche wobbles when he pries your mouth open with his thumb, promptly before spitting into it.

“don’t bother with the bullshit. i’ll play the games, not you.”

he drags his hard cock against the curve of your ass, slapping it against you.

“i don’t think i feel like fuckin’ you right now.” gojo sneers, humming sardonically. his lips quickly latch onto yours when you spin around to meet his gaze. like the fucker he is, gojo moans and whines into the kiss- lips ravaging you whole and tongue capturing your essence.

“baby girl, i was gonna let you top me. you know i don’t let anyone do that.”

his long middle finger prods against your cunt, forcing itself in with ease.

“damn, you’re soaked. you really wanted to milk me dry that bad?”

you hate him. hate him so fucking bad. he flashes you that attractive smile of his, azure eyes sparkling and snow white hair disturbed with water.

gojo pulls his finger out before sucking onto it in front of you, lapping all the excess arousal off.

“i’m not playing with you tonight.”

toji

- i literally don’t even need to say anything here

- just be sure to make a hospital check up appointment or something

- um-i uh- please remember to breathe after this one? maybe touch some grass? ALSO my first time writing for toji AAA i hope he’s okay

maybe if you don’t breathe? nah, that wouldn’t work. there’s still air acting around your limbs when you move so you’d be disturbing the barriers there. let’s see… maybe bit by bit? surely if you slowly inched his shirt up? then again, wouldn’t toji chew you out halfway through? maybe you should just give it to him straight up? just slip your hand under his shirt. come on. but he looks so peaceful, sleeping like that.. long eyelashes fluttered closed, lips relaxed and not scowling. his eyebrows are softly arched. he looks so soft, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.

fuck it. just do it. cuddle him already.

you muster up all your courage in one fell swoop and you bend one leg over toji, resting it just above his groin. your right arm sprawls out over his chest and your hand rests against his toned arm. he’s already sleeping with one arm bent up with his hand supporting the back of his head, so you utilise the free real estate to nestle your head in the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

when he doesn’t move after a while, you deem your life to be safe and exhale with ease.

“you’re not asleep.” toji states in a groggy, husky tone. it’s supposed to be a question, but, coming from him it almost sounds like a challenge.

“yes?” you squeak out meekly.

“‘yes?’ you asleep or not?”

“i can’t sleep again.” you murmur against his shirt and he exhales a small sigh. the arm that you’re clinging onto moves to draw small circles on your thigh that rests on toji.

“when’d you notice?” you inquire, glancing down at his large wrists.

“like five minutes ago. nice try, kid.” toji snorts indifferently, chuckling at your behaviour.

when you don’t make an effort to respond, toji’s interest peaks and he lets out a small hum of intrigue when he follows your gaze.

he turns his head, brushing his lips up against your temples.

“see anything interesting down there?”

“as a matter of fact-“

you nestle yourself in between toji’s large and built thighs, digits curling around the waistband of his boxers. he only smirks at you through the dark, cock twitching through the fabric. you notice toji hover his hips up so that you can slide his boxers off for him and you happily oblige.

“-i do.” you chime, licking your lips.

it’s cute, though, if you thought toji was gonna let you handle him like that all by yourself.

as you kiss a trail up his thick shaft, toji yanks ahold fistfuls of your hair before grabbing your face off of his cock.

“who said you could suck my dick? that’s real cute.”

“thinking you actually have a place in my house.”

“i didn’t train you to be such a depraved slut. know your fucking place, because this isn’t it.”

“how many times do i gotta tell you? you don’t belong here. look around. do you see anything that shows a woman lives here? no? that’s because you’re nothing but a fuck doll for me.”

toji hisses out profanities at the gag you spew when he slams your tiny little mouth back down on his dick.

“lose the teeth you imbecile. unless you’re trying to tell me that you can’t suck my dick properly.”

incessant whines and garbled sentences are muffled by toji’s cock. whatever remnants you had of your vision are nothing but a blur as tears stream your cheeks, nose running and sniffles resurface in a repeating pattern over the slick sounds of slurping and gagging. your mouth stretches as far as it can go and the corners of your lips shriek in despair. you can feel the skin there stretch and pull beyond what’s considered normal.

even through all that, you manage to glance up at toji through your water logged lashes. you’ll be a good girl for him. you need to be.

“fuuuck. that’s a pretty sight.” he grumbles and a deep chuckle resonates through his chest. within a few moments, toji fumbles to reach for something.

you can only wince and screw your eyes at the suddenly blinding flash of a light in front of you. one can only assume he’s taken a photo of you in your humiliating state.

you can feel the fear settle into your veins when that telltale ping of a message being sent vibrates throughout the room. if you were to listen hard enough, you could hear a notification go off in the next room over.

your throat feels raw, jaw tense and locked open. it’s been a good twenty minutes of toji face fucking you to teach you a valid lesson. it’s all in the will of him wanting to drag this on, savouring every miniscule slurp, whimper or gasp. when his strokes start to feel sloppier than usual, you can’t help but feel relieved.

as you squirm about due to toji shooting hot ropes of his thick cum down your throat, the door softly clicks open.

“megumi. you’re just in time.”

“she’s way more obedient than your mom ever used to be.”

[mizunetzu]

Tags~: @scifiji @shiny-bun @luv-hqs @gummiebearsmp4 @aquariusmurderer @inarizza @roadkillarr (finally I made the part two AHAHAH)

——————

Kita x reader - warm, warm professions (God I love you so much) (cold cold obvs. Part 2)

Warnings - ahaha angst, crying Kita

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find part one here!

——————

“Shicchan, your hands are so cold...”

(Y/n) cupped both of Kita’s numb hands in his own. Kita tensed, looking down at both of their hands. He felt his own hands being attacked with (Y/n’s) warm ones, his cold, cold hands already thawing just at the one touch.

“Isn’t it hard to toss the ball when you’re hands are numb? That’s bad!” (Y/n) brought Kita’s hands to cup his face, his hands stinging from how warm his cheeks were.

(Y/n) nuzzled his face into Kita’s left hand. He practically murmured into his palm. “How’d they get so cold in the first place?”

Kita wouldn’t show it, in fact he didn’t think he could if he tried, but the warmth that spread across his chest made him suddenly want to run laps. He settled for slightly gripping and rubbing (Y/n’s) cheeks with his thumbs. “I don’t know.” Was all Kita could muster. He was too lost in (Y/n’s) captivating eyes.

God, he loved him so much.

——

Numb.

Numb was the way Kita would describe the feeling in his mouth.

He sat quietly on a foldable chair in the gym, twirling his fingers together instead of watching the practice match going on. He didn’t think he could pay attention if he tried, when he used to be able to have his eyes glued onto the ball even though he was on the sidelines. His fingers felt kind of numb.

He wrapped his fingers up in his shirt to no avail. All it did was make his stomach cold from his fingers bitter touch. It wasn’t even that cold outside. It was a rather nice day in terms of weather. But it didn’t feel like that at all.

“-ita. Kita!”

Kita raised his head. Atsumu loomed above him with his arms crossed.

“...Did you need something, Atsumu-san?”

“Yeah. Why’re ya actin’ all depressed? You’re makin’ everyone feel depressed too, y’know.”

“Atsumu! Shut the fuck up!” Kita heard someone whisper-yell, as well as a grunt of pain from Atsumu. Kita blinked.

“Nothing...much.”

“Nothin’ much?! How bout’ when you started cryin’ yer ass off during practice a week ago? Didn’t seem like nothin’ to me!”

Osamu slapped Atsumu upside the head. Aran sighed.

“I gotta agree with Atsumu-san on this. You don’t look too good these days. Especially since (L/n)-san stopped showin’ up to practice.”

There was hums and nods of agreement. Kita pursed his lips.

“Did...did something happen between y’all?”

Kita couldn’t look Aran in the eyes. He, also, used to have no problem speaking his mind (in fact sometimes it came out automatically) but right now his mouth was glued shut. Now, and probably forever. He didn’t wanna say it. He didn’t wanna think it. He didn’t wanna hear it-

“Kita and (L/n) broke up a week ago.”

Suna pitched in monotonously. Kita flinched subtly. The gym was silent. All eyes were on Kita. His throbbing, cold hands didn’t help, as he tried warming them up discreetly by stuffing them under the backside of his shirt.

“Oh...uh, sorry.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t mind.”

The awkward, sympathetic pats on the back didn’t really help either, but he replied with a curt “s’fine.” nonetheless.

——

(Y/n) kissed the back of Kita’s hand.

“Looks like your hands warmin’ up...” He drew it away from his lips and examined it with half lidded eyes and a reserved smile. Kita watched as tiny specs of sun fluttered around (Y/n’s) warm face, painting his face and hair with light that made him look like an angel sent from heaven.

Kita mindlessly brought his free hand up to the side of (Y/n’s) face, touching and stroking his cheek with the grace of a feather. (Y/n) looked up from his hand, up at Kita’s face.

(Y/n) leaned into his touch. He used his other hand to cup the hand resting peacefully on his cheek, nuzzling his nose further into Kita’s palm.

“Something wrong?”

“No...”

Kita felt a throbbing, hazy feeling in his chest. Like something inside his ribcage was trying to break free, and explode into a million pieces.

“Then, do you just like holding my face?” (Y/n) smiled that smile that made him go weak in the knees. “That’s good...I like it when you hold my face too.”

God, he loved him so much.

——

Kita slumped down, doubled over himself panting and heaving on the sidewalk where Inarizaki was collectively jogging. Ginjima stopped in front of Kita, jogging in place.

“You’re usually in the very front of the pack when we all run.” He said in between huffs.

Kita said nothing, only panting and crouching down to catch his breath.

“You run in the very back of the group now.”

He was met with no response again. Ginjima stopped running in place, and stared down pitifully at Kita’s hunched over body.

“S’everything alright back there?!” Aran called out from a distance. Ginjima yelled out a “Everything’s fine!” While waving his arms around in the air until Aran waved back. Ginjima looked back at Kitas scrunched up form.

“Y’know-maybe you should just...go home for the day. Take a break.”

Kita looked up at him with dry, tired eyes. His throat refused to put out any other sounds than exhales the occasional cough.

“Go freshen up and go home. You won’t die missing a day of practice.” Ginjima crouched down to Kita’s face, his voice noticeably softer and careful. “It’s not like you to push yourself when you know you’re not doing well.”

“I’m not sick, it’s not the same thing-“

“But you’re heartbroken.”

Heartbroken. Kita supposed that was the word to describe his situation right now. Heartbroken, yet it didn’t feel like the correct word to describe how he felt. He felt like he was dying. Drowning. Freezing.

“I’ll walk you back, ‘kay?” Ginjima pushed off his feet, extending a hand over to Kita. He pulled him up, and Kita swayed in the air like a bobblehead. “Go change and go home. We’ll see you tomorrow, don’t worry. I’ll tell the others you went home.”

Ginjima and Kita walked in the opposite direction they were running. Kita downcast his face.

“M’kay.”

——

“Do you love me?”

Kita remembered the way (Y/n’s) face didn’t radiate the warm glow it usually did when he was around him. His eyes looked strained, infuriated even, and he looked like he wanted to say something more. But it was a simple question, ‘do you love me?’. And of course he did. So that’s what he said.

“...Of course I-“

“”of course I do.” That’s what you always say..! Say something else, dammit! Say you love me!”

(Y/n) abruptly rose from his seat, stepping over the bench and grabbing Kita by the collar. He pulled him closer to his face, shaking him by the shirt with knuckles that almost turned white.

“M-Make me believe that you love me!”

He really wish he didn’t remember how much tears flowed freely from (Y/n’s) eyes, and how he was biting and gnawing at his lip to keep from screaming, or the way he shook with despair in general. It played over and over again, the same sorrow-riddled expression that made Kita’s stomach drop.

He really wish he didn’t remember. But he wished he’d said something, anything, even more.

(Y/n’s) face went from angry and sad, to numb and cold in a matter of seconds. He’d much rather prefer the heated look of (Y/n’s) angry face, than the stone cold lifeless look (Y/n) held when he let go of his shirt. Because even with his angry sobs and screams, there was still a hint of warmth. Even if it was angry passion, it was still better than the cold, dead stare he held that Kita couldn’t meet.

“...I think we should break up.”

Kita’s world went silent. He was struck with an immediate shock of dread, panic, stress, and everything in between. He had so many questions. Why? Didn’t he know that he loved him? He loved him so, so much, so why was he saying that he didn’t? Was his love not enough? Didn’t he know how much he needed him?

He had so many questions, yet his face made of cold stone could only say one thing.

“Why?”

(Y/n’s) iron clad grip on Kita’s shirt loosened, he stepped back, face feeling raw after crying. “I don’t want to be with someone who can’t tell me they love me. Once you can tell me you love me, and mean it, I’m all ears.”

Kita watched as (Y/n) turned his back on him for the first and last time. More thoughts raced in his head. He could change. He could do better. He’d love him a thousand times more, fix every little imperfection, hell, do it a thousand times over again if it meant that (Y/n) would turn around with that warm smile again. He wanted see that smile again. That smile that made him feel so warm. Please. One more time. Kita’s arm gravitated outwards, reaching for (Y/n’s) cold back as he turned away. One more time, please smile for me.

But he didn’t. He was met with nothing more than a cold shoulder.

He was left with the sudden drop in temperature, the world once filled with so much warmth being winded away into a cold wasteland. Kita looked down, his eyes numb and wide.

“Please come back...” he remembered saying, though he didn’t think it ever came out audibly.

“I love you, (Y/n)...”

‘God...dear God...’

He loved him so much.

‘Why did you take him away from me?’

‘The gods were always listening, is what my Baa-san would always say. Were the gods not listening to my undying love for you, (L/n)(Y/n)? Was my feelings for you not enough to make you smile for me one last time? God, I loved you so much.’

‘So did I not love you enough?’

——

Kita found himself sitting on the same bench (Y/n) professed his love for him to. Granted, it was the same bench they had broken up on, but Kita didn’t want to think about that.

He twirled a wilted cherry blossom petal in between his fingers. The rigid, dark pink petal cracked and crumbled, turning into dust in Kita’s hand.

As much as he hated this place, this stupid stone bench with a cherry blossom tree, it was a beautiful sight that not much students knew about. It was quiet, but it caused (Y/n’s) cold, cold eyes to bore into his mind all the more he stayed. It was a double edged sword.

He sometimes wondered what (Y/n) was doing with his free time outside of the club. What did he do? Did he take a nap after classes? His sleeping face looked very cute, though he only saw it once when he dozed off studying at his house. Did he spend time with his parents? He always found people respectable to their parents very attractive. Did he find a new club to stay with?

Kita clenched his fists. The thought of (Y/n) playing a different sport, doing something else after school, didn’t sit right with him. Was that what he was doing? Did he realize how cold and uncomfortable he made volleyball for him, and decided to leave? Would he never see him smiling up at him again after school?

Would he never see (L/n) (Y/n’s) warm, warm smile directed at him ever again?

He heard footsteps echo on the grass behind him. The footsteps halted awkwardly, and Kita turned around.

(Y/n) locked eyes with Kita. He should’ve been paying attention to where he was going, huh? Maybe if he was looking where he was walking, he could’ve noticed Kita Shinsuke sitting there, and could’ve found a different spot to sit at after school.

(Y/n) wasted no time spinning on his heel and leaving. He didn’t wanna face Kita after everything that went down.

Kita feet sprang him up and off the bench. He didn’t know what he was doing, but the next thing he knew was that his arms wrapped around (Y/n’s) body, holding him while he was facing away. Kita’s mind raced with thoughts and went absolutely blank at the same time.

(Y/n) pursed his lips. “What do you want?” He said. It came out harsher than he intended, but Kita paid no mind. He wordlessly buried his face into the crook of (Y/n’s) neck, nuzzling it and relishing in the warmth that was not intended for him.

“H-hey! What gives!” (Y/n) half-heartedly tried pushing Kita away. He knew if he gave in now, he’d come crawling back into Kita’s cold, loveless arms, craving that touch and pretending it was indeed, love. “Don’t...don’t touch me, Kita-“

“Shinsuke.”

The arm that was trying to push Kita away went limp. (Y/n’s) hardened exterior cracked as his resolve faltered. Kita buried himself deeper into (Y/n’s) shoulder, firmly wrapping his arms around (Y/n) tightly. He was practically murmuring into (Y/n’s) school uniform.

“Call...call me Shinsuke...it’s what you used to call me...when we first started dating...”

“Well,” (Y/n) downcast his face, his eyes hardened and cold while he balled up his fists. “We aren’t dating. So why does it-“

All of (Y/n’s) resolve, all the time he spent putting up the barrier to his emotions, shattered once he heard the first sniffle from Kita.

After that, Kita fell apart like dominoes.

His grip on (Y/n’s) waist tightened as he shook violently, sobs crescendoed and ripping through his body explosively, unlike the silent tears that he shed that day he left. His whimpers and choked cries were muffled from the cloth of (Y/n’s) uniform. He loved him so much. Why couldn’t he see how much he loved him?

Kita cried and cried on (Y/n’s) shoulder. He couldn’t see the type of face (Y/n) was making, and that made him all the more nervous. He wanted to feel the warmth of (Y/n) at least one last time. After that, he swore he would move on. He swore. He swore, so one last time. Please.

(Y/n) sighed. “Kita...”

Kita didn’t respond. He continued to cry pathetically onto (Y/n’s) shoulder.

“Kita-kun.”

This time, Kita shakily shook his head. (Y/n) sighed, this time more stably, and untangled Kita’s vice grip from his body.

“Shinsuke-kun...”

Kita, confused and sad, finally caught a glimpse of (Y/n’s) face when he turned around. He had a look of empathy, his warm hands brought up to his cheeks, melting his ice cold skin awake. Kita rumbled with another choked sob, closing his eyes and sobbing into (Y/n’s) hands. It was so warm. After the cold winter storm he’d suffered through, the first ray of sunshine that shone through always felt the best.

“Shinsuke-kun,” (Y/n) repeated. Kita hiccuped, trying to stop his tears from falling.

“P-lease come back...” Kita’s voice was hoarse, cracking with every word. “I-I don’t like this...”

(Y/n) said nothing. Kita broke free from (Y/n’s) soft grip on his face, and brought him into a hug. He was never much for physical affection, but right now (Y/n) felt so, so warm.

“You’ve...you’ve treated me so kind...I-I’m sorry...i’ve been so cold...” Kita rambled on, sobbing into (Y/n’s) hair quietly. (Y/n) still didn’t say anything.

“I-I...didn’t mean to...I swear...! I’ll be a better boyfriend...please...I’ll love you correctly...”

(Y/n’s) silence was defecating. Kita felt his ears go numb with the silent treatment he was being put through. Was this his punishment?

“I...say something...! Please...” Kita whispered, tears gathering at his eyes once more. “Please...”

Then, (Y/n) finally wrapped his warm arms around Kita. He mumbled pathetically, “Y’know I don’t like it when people cry, Shinsuke...”

It was Kita’s turn to go quiet. (Y/n) pulled away, much to Kita’s protest. However, the warm smile (Y/n) gave him made his heart throb and his throat close up.

(Y/n) caressed Kita’s face with his thumb. “Stop crying...”

“I love you...” Kita whispered, his voice cracking at the seams. (Y/n’s) face adorned a look of astonishment, a slight blush lighting up his already perfect sunny face.

(Y/n) smiled again. That same smile Kita had been craving for forever.

“T-Tell me that again...please.”

Kita collapsed into (Y/n’s) warm arms. Choked sobs of “I-I love you-!” And “I-I love you so much...” echoed through the air. The emotionless barrier, holding all of Kita’s emotions captive to the world, cracked and shattered, his crying face bearing the weight of a man who loved (L/n) (Y/n) with his entire being.

(Y/n) stroked the back of Kita’s head softly.

“Of course you do...”

God, he loved him so much.

——————

[adalics]

hi ! i’m laney ! ada’s background got a little long winded ( sorry not sorry ) but the tldr; sad girl turned sweet party girl turned sad girl again . if you like this post i’ll come plot with you ! i can be reached on disc @ 𝖍𝖊𝖝 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙#5769 . it’s easier for me to keep up with but if you prefer tumblr , that’s cool too . 

(    scarlett    leithold     &     elizabeth    lail      )    bopping     along     to   teenage    dream     by   katy    perry   is     adalia         haas        -        foster   ,     the     twenty    one   year     old     cisfemale     thrown     back     to     their   psychology   days     with     some   of     her   memories     .     voted     most     likely     to     put    others    first     ,     ada     was     known     for     being     devoted     &     obstinate     ,     go     figures     you'd     always     find     them     making     out     at     a     frat     party     ,     but     grew     up     to     be   pragmatic     &   sepulchral        .      ✎      laney     ,     21     ,     she/her     ,     est     .

trigger warning : death , child loss , self - harm , alcoholism , adultery/infidelity , car accidents . 

                    the   basics

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥  𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞  : adalia  josephine  haas  -  foster  .

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞  :  ada  .

𝐚𝐠𝐞  :  twenty  -  one  .

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞  𝐨𝐟  𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡  :  february  14th  .

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫  /  𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬  :  cisfemale  /  her  :  she  .

​𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡  𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞  :  san  diego  ,  california  .

𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  :  american  .   german   .

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧  𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬  :  english  .

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫  𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨  :  idk  yet  lmao  .

𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬   :      sun    kissed    skin    gleaming    under    the    warm    sun    ,     saccharine    vowels    falling    out    of    glossy    lips  ,  too    many    unanswered    texts    and    missed    calls    to    ever    get    rid    of    the    notification    bubble    ,    an    eagerness    for    affection    she    could    never    shake   .

                    background

your    unwed   parents    were    elated    but    nervous    to    welcome    two    children    into    the    world    at    once    .    you    arrived    twelve    minutes    ahead    of    your    sibling    .    before    you    ,    they    had    never    seen    a    sparkle    in    someone’s    eyes    as    bright    as    yours    —    one    deep    &    cornflower    blue    ,    the    other    dipped    in    honey    with    speckles    of    gold    .    the    first    eleven    years    of    your    life    were    blissful    ,    content    ,    easy    -    going    .    you    were    the    flower    girl    at    their    wedding    .    your    father    was    a    pilot    in    the    marines    .    your    sweet    mother    didn’t    know    a    thing    until    it    was    too    late    .    she    was    a    labor    &    delivery    nurse    with    long    hours    .    she    was    a    bit    of    a    treehugger    .    you    grew    up    recycling    &    never    eating    a    meal    with    animal    products    .    when    she    wasn’t    working    ,    she    was    taking    care    of    the    kids    .    she    didn’t    notice    when    he    came    home    too    l  a  t  e    .    or    when    he    didn’t    swing    by    during    lunch    .    she    had    no    reason    to    suspect    he    was    fooling    around    during    his    deployments    (    and    his    days    off    ,    for    that    matter    )    .    one    day    there    was    a    knock    at    the    door    .    a    fellow    officer    had    come    by    to    tell    mrs    .    haas    that    she    had    fallen    pregnant    ...    with    mr    .    haas’s    baby    .    by    the    time    mr    .    haas    pulled    into    the    driveway    following    a    tiresome    shift    ,    you    were    long    gone    .    

you    adapted    to    the    san    francisco    area    well    enough    .    the    burden    of    two    children    was    getting    the    best    of    your    mother    so    you    never    complained    .    when    your    oma    came    to    live    with    you    ,    things    were    starting    to    look    up    for    you    .    conversations    with    dad    were    fleeting    but    he    told    you    he    missed    you    .    and    he    loved    you    .    he    told    you    about    your    new    baby    brother    .    thirteen    would    be    the    last    year    you    received    a    birthday    card    from    your    father    before    you    stopped    hearing    from    him    at    all    .    your    mother    went    into    travel    nursing    that    same    year    .    she    needed    an    escape    .    a    new    start    .    but    she    wouldn’t    uproot    her    family    again    .    so    as    she    traveled    the    continental    u.s.    ,    you    &    your    sibling    stayed    behind    with    oma    .    you    were    always    a    mommy’s    girl    .    she    was    your    idol    .    and    then    she    was    gone    .    you    formed    a    friendship    with    your    oma    .    you    learned    her    recipes    ,    the    shows    she    liked    &    the    songs    she    loved    to    sing    .    but    the    scars    on    your    wrists    proved    how    lonely    you    truly    were    .    

your    life    was    dull    .    you    wanted    to    feel    something    .    cutting    led    to    drinking    which    led    to    parties    which    led    to    boys    .    they    said    they    adored    you    ,    but    you    quickly    learned    that    only    meant    they    adored    what    was    in    your    pants    .    when    you    didn’t    put    out    ,    they    made    up    lies    .    you    kept    your    circle    small    from    that    point    forward    .    you    looked    out    for    them    &    they    looked    out    for    you    .    your    brief    brushes    with    love    &    the    lived    experience    of    divorce    hardened    you    .    until    you    saw    him    .    alexsander    knew    the    rumors    of    course    ,    but    that    didn’t    stop    him    from    asking    you    on    a    date    .    in    the    beginning    you    were    afraid    .    stand    -    offish    .    but    he    won    your    heart    .    you’d    be    inseparable    ever    since    .    you’d    never    seen    a    love    quite    like    his    .    gentle    ,    passionate    ,    devoted    .    his    flaws    were    merely    tiny    hiccups    in    your    happily    ever    after    .    you    could    fix    him    ,    the    way    he    fixed    you    .    when    it    was    time    for    college    ,    you    couldn’t    let    him    go    .    rom    valley    wasn’t    too    far    away    from    your    old    life    with    oma    .    with    a    tank    full    of    gas    &    a    couple    of    hours    on    the    road    ,    you    could    easily    visit    .    so    you    left    .    you    joined    a    sorority    &    other    organizations    .    your    job    at    twin    peaks    was    supposed    to    be    ironic    but    your    quite    the    chatty    cathy    .    lonely    men    were    eager    for    your    conversation    ,    so    ,    the    money    was    good    .    not    that    you    needed    it    .    but    the    independence    felt    nice    .    you    majored    in    psychology    because    you    wanted    to    help    girls    who    reminded    you    of    yourself    .    college    was    the    best    time    of    your    life    .    

you    would’ve    sworn    that    happiness    would    last    forever    .    then    you    got    the    call    from    your    mother    .    she    was    thousands    of    miles    away    &    frantic    .    she    said    oma    had    a    heart    attack    .    in    the    three    hours    it    took    to    drive    home    ,    she    passed    away    .    you    were    crushed    .    but    alexsander    was    there    .    he    made    sure    you    didn’t    slip    through    the    cracks    .    he    supported    you    through    your    grief    .    life    returned    to    normal    after    a    few    months    .    the    guilt    lingered    .    you    smiled    through    it    .    when    you    graduated    ,    you    began    working    for    a    publishing    company    .    a    professor    recommended    you    for    the    job    ,    actually    .    you    loved    it    .    you    got    married    .    you    had    a    baby    .    alina    .    because    she    was    the    light    of    your    life    .    if    you    couldn’t    have    the    perfect    family    then    you    would    make    your    own    .   it    slipped    alexsander’s    mind    to    pick    up    his    daughter    from    practice    .    you    chastised    him    ,    reminding    him    that    nothing   was    more    important    than    his    family    .    you    were    hit    by    a    drunk    driver    going    above    the    speed    limit    .    only    ten    minutes    away    from    home    .    of    the    two    passengers    ,    only    you    survived    .    they    told    you    in    the    hospital    that    she    died    on    impact    .    your    precious    alina    didn’t    feel    any    pain    .    but    you    did    .    you    couldn’t    eat    or    sleep    .    you    fell    into    a    deep    depression    .    a    wife    who    loses    a    husband    is    a    widow    .    a    child    that    loses    its    parents    is    an    orphan    .    there’s    no    word    for    a    parent    who    loses    their    child    .    that’s    how    awful    the    loss    is    .    and    where    was    your    prince    ?    drowning    his    sorrows    in    brown    liquor    .    when    you    lost    her    ,    you    lost    him    too    .    you    tried    to    help    .    you    tried    to    set    aside    your    grief    to    heal    him    too    .    it    didn’t    work    .    the    man    lying    next    to    you    was    a    stranger    .    so    you    left    .    you    took    your    time    filing    for    a    divorce    .    you    put    all    your    focus    into    writing    a    book    .    the    tale    of    a    girl    who    lost    every    love    she’d    ever    known    .    it    was    you    .    a    new    york    times    best    seller    .    you    toured    the    world    sharing    your    story    .    your    mother    served    your    husband    the    papers    a    month    before    the    reunion    .    the    event    completely    slipped    your    mind    .    

                    personality

you   can    be    one    of    the    most    loyal    people    any    could    ever    encounter    because    you’re    is    so    thoughtful    &    generous    .    everyone    knows    you’re    goal    -    oriented    .    naturally    ,    it’s    rather    difficult    for    you    to    let    people    in    so    when    you    actually    do    care    for    someone    you’ll    will    go    to    the    ends    of    the    earth    to    prove    her    friendship    .    even    in    a    platonic    sense    you’re    often    embracing    others    ,    holding    hands    or    placing    pecks    on    the    cheek    .    you’re    innately    charismatic    ,    perceptive    ,    &    observant    .    your    radiant    personality    has    it’s    less    admirable    side    .    you’re    known    to    be    a    little    too    sensitive    ,    sarcastic    ,    envious    ,    bellicose    .    a    mix    of    her    upbringing    &    her    aquarius    sun    sign     .   your    life    has    made    you    jaded    .    you’re    not    the    bottle    blonde    you    were    in    college    .    you    can’t    have    a    meal    without    having    a    drink    .    there’s    a    crack    in    your    smile    that    even    you    can’t    hide    .

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

FIC: MIO FIGLIO

So, this is something I wrote back in February from Anna’s (Nico’s mom) point of view. I’m very proud of how it turned out, so I hope you’ll enjoy it too :D... Despite the title, IT'S IN ENGLISH

Somewhere in Italy Early morning of a day in 1999

He’s so tiny. So small. So soft and breakable. Perhaps not the most beautiful, but surely the most precious creature on Earth. Her baby.

She can’t bear not to check on her son every five minutes, afraid he might have stopped breathing. It’s awfully stupid, and illogical, she knows that. The midwife she hired came with great recommendations, so there’s no reason not to trust her with both their lives, but... He took his sweet time coming into this world - a little later than scheduled, but who can blame him - and now it’s hard to tear her gaze from him. She keeps covering him in kisses, whispering how much he loves him already.

Ni. Ninì. Nico. Nicolì. Niccolò. Like the singer that brought her and Gioele together, on that sunny 1st of May in Piazza San Giovanni. It was the only name they agreed on, since her husband choices felt too extravagant - “They are going to be the ones having to live with a name like Gertrude, Genoveffa, Gervasio or Giosuè… what’s with you and names starting with a ‘G’, anyway?" - and all her favourites reminded him of people he couldn’t stand.

“We can name her Gertrude, okay?” She tilted her head back then, flashed him her cheekiest smile and pointed at the plush giraffe Gabriella - her sweet sixteen-year old sister-in-law, who had sworn she would make a great pianist out of her first nephew - had brought as a present.

“You don’t have to be a pianist. You can be a singer, a painter, a cartoonist… An engineer, a teacher, a doctor, a bricklayer, a plumber, an electrician… Whatever you wish, Ninì. I swear I’m going to do my best to help you find your call. And when you’ll stumble, mama is gonna be there to catch you before you get hurt too bad. Always.”

Empty promises? Is she going to turn into one of those ‘mother knows best’ ladies, who ignore their children wishes? Is she going to screw up - screwing him up, in the process - along the way? She’s so terrified of all that can hurt him, out there. Including herself.

*******************************

Rome, Anna Furlan & Gioele Fares Apartment Early morning of a day in 2020

He's happy. Happier than she's ever seen him in a really long time. And when she says 'happy', she doesn't mean the euphoric "LOOK, MOM! I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD!!" state that always leads to a catastrophic crashing down… No, it's more like a calm soothing feeling that has him smiling fondly when she playfully slaps his hand - no, he's not allowed to have a taste before it's ready or, worse, dip his fingers into the batter: who raised him? - and shoos him out of the kitchen with a

"Go make yourself useful, Ninì. There’s some stuff in your old room that need to be sorted.” He looks touched, like he can’t quite believe he’s being trusted to actually know what can be tossed away and what should he should take with him.

He's content, yeah. But for how long? How can she soften the blow, when everything will inevitably fall apart?

She tried, so hard, to teach him not to rely on others when it comes to his own peace of mind… Made sure he'd give his best in trying to build a future for himself. But he's so… Spooked, and vulnerable, always on the lookout… Terrified he might end up alone. Unloved.

How… How can anybody meet her sweet, wide-eyed, cheerful Niccolò and not be instantly charmed by him? Not want to spend the rest of their life by his side?

Okay, he's got his flaws and his fluctuating moods can be hard to deal with. One might end up being his doctor, instead of a parent or a lover… She often catches herself going down that road, and she must admit it's nice to have Martino around to make her notice that. Maddalena would never have dared.

She might have not been exactly thrilled that Nico had fallen in love with him - up to the point she doubted the love itself, preferring to chalk it up to an obsession, an hyper fixation - but he sure won her over with his attentiveness, his willingness to learn from his past mistakes and not let the bad times spoil the best ones. Either the instants they would cherish for the years to come, or the momentary bliss that would be forgotten as soon as they closed their eyes. Both were worth being lived to their fullest.

He is human, imperfect, and proudly so.

And Niccolò wouldn't leave him just because he’s not infallible, would he? So why can’t he extend the same courtesy to himself?

Why, why would he think - even for a second - that he doesn't deserve all the best that the world can offer?

It must have been something she said. Something she did. The therapists have been pretty adamant on that.

‘Stop. Stop there. Stop making this about you. It isn’t. It never was. It will never be.’ She reprimands herself, as soon as she realises where her thoughts are leading her to. ‘Stop regretting what you can’t change, and work on what you can do better from now on. Remember he’s not your baby anymore, he’s an adult who will soon find out that being grown ups doesn’t mean you’ll get handed the answers and that everything will finally make sense in your life. He’s going to have to deal with that on his own… Or with Martino, who’s going through the same earth shattering revelation. You need to step down, step aside… And let him fall, let him live, Anna.’

It’s harder than usual to listen to the rational part of her brain, today, with him having just turned 21. He’s still so tiny… and small… Not weak, though.

She smiles, as she recalls the last meal they had with their relatives down in Gubbio - where her mother-in-law whispered into her ear “I like this one, he gives the best hugs. Reminds me of my dear Giorgio…” while looking at Martino - and all the teasing Niccolò had to endure from them… Until he got up, and said “Bet none of you can do this.” and proceeded to carry a disgruntled Martino over his shoulder. “Mh? What? Can’t hear you over the sound of my amazing strength, Marti. Told you I could do it, but you didn’t believe me…”

“Mom? Mom! You kept her?” Nico snaps out her reminisces, waving a tattered stuffed animal in front of her eyes. She jumps back, nearly dropping the baking tray. He saves it with his free hand, and together they put it in the oven.

“You kept her? Gertrude?” He asks, once again, after she has set the timer and sat down with him at the table. The poor giraffe has lost all of her spots - if she hadn’t seen her in her prime, back in 1999, she might have mistaken this Gertrude for a cow - and an eye. That had caused quite the scare, when she and Gio asked Nico where it had gone and he pointed at his mouth, giggling…

Poor chap, she had been dragged all over the floors and up on every tree that Niccolò had climbed as a child. And then she disappeared, after Maddalena's first visit. He needed to show her he was a man, not a little boy.

“Of course I did… I figured you might want to hand her down to…Another generation?”

“Mom, please…” He rolls his eyes, sighing.

“Hey, hey…” Fingertips on his cheekbones. A kiss on his forehead. Small gestures to reassure Nico that he’s not going to let her down because he won’t ever see himself raising a kid. “You know I don’t really care for a grandchild. It could be the gift from a cool uncle. Fitting, since you got it from your coolest aunt, right? Gabi wouldn’t want Gertrude to end up all alone, forgotten, at the bottom of a dusty box. Didn’t you promise them both a big adventure?”

“You... “ Niccolò whispers, tearing up a little.

“... remember? Of course I do, sweetheart. I’ve still got the birthday card you wrote them when you were five, after all… And what bigger adventure than the life you just started building for yourself?"

"I'm hardly doing that on my own."

"So? Don't sell yourself short. You're doing great..." Oh, is he really too old for a cuddle? Because she definitely feels like they should walk over to the sofa and just thread her fingers through his curls as he dozes off and forget all about his troubles.

The buzzing of the intercom has them getting up at the same time, racing to get it first. He's a damn cheat, no better than his father - what a pair of sore losers - and wins without breaking a sweat. She's hasn't been this silly in a long, long time... and she doesn't even know why.

"Marti?"

Well, maybe she can leave the cuddling to the expert.

[thefledglingdm]

Can i ask a ficlet or fic with ben and bea? Anything 😭 i just miss those two

YES HELLO I AM HERE!!!! i have it posted here!!!! please see below the cut, and I’ll add it to the there’s a skirmish of wit between them post on ao3 as well!!

note: this is a goofy sort of meet-cute au inspired by my own life and relationship with my pet. this will make more sense. i hope this is okay!!

hang me in a bottle like a cat

Ben did not give two thoughts about it when his neighbors moved out of the apartment complex. He was never particularly close to the couple, or any of his neighbors, really. Who even talked to their neighbors anymore? No one went over to say welcome to the building or ask to borrow a cup of sugar anymore. And since this building featured in-unit laundry, Ben never needed to interact with people beyond a brisk nod passing on the stairs or at the mailboxes. And that was exactly the life he preferred. He kept to himself and his one-bedroom apartment and his engineering job in downtown San Francisco, and that was exactly what he wanted.

In fact, Ben had not even noticed the inhabitants in the two-bedroom next door changed until he checked his mail one Tuesday afternoon and saw that the battered mail tag for apartment 310 had changed. The new tag simply read, Stratford, H/ Stratford, B.

Huh, Ben thought. Neat.

That was the most thought he put into his new neighbors until Friday. Ben was sitting on his couch, phone in one hand and beer in the other, Netflix on in the background. He was not paying real attention to anything at all, really, which was why he jumped where there was a sudden crashing sound through the wall.

And dimly, Ben heard a woman’s voice lamenting, “Oh, you stupid little bastard.”

Ben furrowed his brow at the sound, listening to hear if there would be any more. There wasn’t. Shaking his lip with a bemused little smile on his face, Ben returned to his phone.

Ben assumed that the odd outburst through the walls would be a one-time thing. But clearly he overestimated the thickness of the walls in his building, or he underestimated the temper of his new neighbors.

Every now and then, Ben heard the noise through the wall: loud, uninhibited laughter; the shifting of different furniture being assembled or rearranged; the odd fire alarm dinging off, always accompanied by some kind of loud swear.

And every now and then, Ben would hear that voice again.

“Out of my way, you tiny bastard man, if I trip over you I am going to push you out the window.”

“Dinner time, dinner time, dinner time! Will you eat this? I don’t care if you like it or not! You’ll eat it and like it!”

“Get a job, you fucking freeloader. Pay your rent. Pull your own weight around here for once.”

“No. No. No. This is mine. I’m not sharing. Fuck off. I hate you. Fine, one kiss.”

“Back, back, back – no! Move! You know you’re not allowed outside!”

It was like living with a strange, cranky ghost that swore like a sailor. And had a mean streak.

Most nights, it was actually rather funny. But as time went on, he started to grow a bit concerned. Whoever his new neighbors were, they sounded like they had a… contentious relationship. One full of arguing and insults and exasperated affection.

Ben knew that his neighbors’ lives weren’t any of his business. But he had to admit he was deeply curious. And with the occasional crash and shout, he wondered if he ought to pop by. Check in. Greet the new neighbors, after all. His mother would probably give him her standard amused, slightly disappointed look if he revealed that he had still not said hello or welcome to his new neighbors since they moved in over two months ago.

The tipping point finally came, as Ben knew it must. He had just arrived home from work, a few hours later than usual on a Friday night. He’d had a project to finish up, and the rest of the office was barely helping. So it was almost eight o’clock in the evening as Ben made his way up the stairs, keys in one hand and loosening his tie with the other. He was just about to open his front door when a sudden clattering of dishes made him jump.

“No – dammit, you little shit – you know you’re not allowed in the kitchen! Get out! I will feed you! Move, you stupid asshole!”

Ben looked longingly at his door. Then he sighed, taking the five steps to the neighboring door. He lifted a fist, rapping his knuckles against the door.

Immediately, that same voice called: “One second! Shit, no, move - c’mere -”

The door chain rattled, the deadbolt turned. The door opened. And Ben came face-to-face with his neighbor. He opened his mouth. Forgot how words worked.

Because – oh, wow. The woman had a heart-shaped face, strong features, long, dark auburn hair, hazel eyes. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks like stars. She was a bit shorter than him, curvy, wearing a soft, faded Star Wars t-shirt with the collar cut so that the oversized shirt drooped down one shoulder. In her arms was a very large, very fluffy orange cat with perhaps the largest and most vacant eyes Ben had ever seen.

Oh. A cat. A cat.

A lot of things made sense now.

“Um, hi, did you need something?” The Most Beautiful Woman Ben Had Ever Seen asked, cutting off Ben’s train of thought.

“Oh, no,” Ben said. The woman raised an eyebrow, looking distinctly unimpressed. He quickly amended, “Well, I live next door, in three-oh-eight, and I, uh, I’ve heard you? Yelling? And I wanted to check in, see if you were okay, but.” He flapped a hand in the girl’s general direction, his limbs feeling oddly boneless. “The cat. You have a cat. Makes sense.”

“You heard – oh, my God,” the woman said, her expression going from borderline suspicious to confused to mortified. She had absolutely no poker face, and Ben found that observation indescribably charming. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, I had no idea the walls were so thin, I’m so sorry I’ve been bothering you –”

“You didn’t bother me,” Ben interrupted, which he knew was rude, but he felt even worse watching this adorable woman blush in embarrassment. “I mean, it was. Funny? But I just. I wanted to check in? And, uh, say hi. Since we’re neighbors.”

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but then there was another voice in the apartment. “Bea? Who’s at the door?”

The woman – Bea – stepped aside as a smaller, more petite woman stepped into the doorway. Her blonde hair was tied up into a ponytail at the top of her head. She eyed Ben with a blue-eyed stare. Then she peeked up at Bea. “A gentleman caller, Bea? Scandalous.”

Well, that was their relationship explained in two sentences. Ben watched the two sisters as Bea glared down at the younger woman. “Of course not, Hero. This is our neighbor…” She frowned at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh, no,” Ben agreed. It took him a second to realize, oh, she was asking the strange man at her door to introduce himself. An extremely reasonable request. Yes, Ben would love to drop through the floor right about now. “Uh. Ben. Ben Montounto. And I have intruded on your night long enough. So I am going to…” Face-plant into my couch, throw a blanket over my head, and hide for the rest of my life.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” The blonde woman, Hero, suddenly asked. Her sister tried to open her mouth, but she plowed on over anything she might have said. “Since we’ve apparently been bothering you for the past few weeks without even knowing it. An apology. Bea’s a… cook.”

Bea cut her sister with a glare. Ben tried to bite back a laugh, and he mostly succeeded until Bea turned her affronted hazel-eyed gaze on him. Oh, she was adorable.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Ben said honestly. He stepped back. Bea held his gaze.

“It’s not intruding if we invited you,” she pointed out bluntly.

“Oh, so now it’s ‘we?’” Ben asked. Bea lifted her chin slightly, refusing to back down even as her cheeks pinked slightly.

“Well, I didn’t stutter,” Bea replied archly, and she stepped aside to invite Ben into her apartment. It had the same layout as his own, just flipped and mirrored, with an extra bedroom attached. He carefully sat on the couch, sitting awkwardly straight up.

“D’you want anything to drink?” Hero asked, poking her head into the fridge as Bea returned to the stove. “We have water, seltzer, beer –”

“– Terrible wine, move, you little monster,” Bea said to the orange cat winding around her ankles. Now that he was here to see it in person, Ben could see the smile on Bea’s face as she cooed down at the cat. He could also hear the pet mrowl back up at her, green eyes wide and guileless. Ben dimly wondered if he would even hear the Wii homepage music echoing in the cat’s head, or if the poor little thing lacked even that.

“Seltzer is fine, thanks,” Ben said. He already felt awkward enough sitting in a strangers’ living room; drinking their alcohol was just several steps too far. Just as he was getting set to leap to his feet and sprint to his apartment, a loud mewl made him look down.

“Hello, lad,” Ben greeted the orange cat, holding out a hand for the pet to sniff. “What’s your name?”

“Tony.” Bea set a can on a coaster in front of him and sat on the other side of the couch, leaving a careful full cushion of space between them.

“Tony, hmm?” Ben replied, still speaking to the cat. “Talented wee thing, aren’t you? You can talk and everything.”

He heard Bea stifle a laugh. “He’s a rescue from a local shelter, so he’s still getting used to people. He takes a bit to warm up –”

Bea’s sentence trailed off when Tony suddenly leapt up to land on his lap. He circled around for a few moments, orange cur catching on the material of Ben’s slacks, before plopping himself into a furry puddle. Ben automatically ran his knuckles under the cat’s chin, and the cat closed his eyes and tilted his head back happily. He started purring, long, loud, and low, like a running engine or a motorboat.

Ben looked at Bea. Her mouth was hanging open, insulted. He felt himself grinning. “You were saying?”

“Shut up,” Bea snapped back automatically, though there was no anger behind the phrase. Ben laughed aloud.

“This is such bullshit,” Bea said, pointing at the cat. “He’s been with us for like, two months, and he still never sits on my lap? Hero’s, occasionally, but never mine. You’re an asshole, you know that?”

The latter sentence was addressed to the cat. Ben lightly scratched his nails behind the cat’s ears, and Tony shoved his head into the pressure. The purring only grew louder. Ben watched Bea scowl playfully at the cat, dark brows furrowing and cheeks going pink when she blew a raspberry at the cat.

Adorable. Utterly adorable. Ben could not believe he had shared a wall with this woman for two months. He knew nothing about her, about her job or her life or where she was from or her history or how she took her coffee or her favorite shows or movies or colors. All he knew was she was beautiful, and sassy, and she lived with her sister, and she loved her cat, and she swore like a sailor, and she had freckles dotting over her shoulders as well as her cheeks.

He did not want to lose any more time.

“You know,” Ben started, keeping his gaze on the cat. Don’t be weird. Don’t come on too strong. “Cats are supposed to good judges of character.”

He met Bea’s gaze. To his relief, she did not look like she was about to toss him out of her apartment. No, Bea Stratford met his gaze with a smirk and a challenging glint in her eyes.

“I’ve heard that, but I still prefer to conduct my own research. So, Ben Montounto.” She angled herself toward him, supporting her chin with the arm she propped over the back of the couch, and raised her chin.

“Tell me about yourself.”

[biillyhargroves]

re: this ask, I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of Billy as a parent and more specifically Billy and Steve as parents and boy howdy do I have some Thoughts to share with y’all. 

like, how Steve has probably always wanted a family in the general “it’s what you’re supposed to do” kind of sense, because it’s what his parents did, and what their parents did, and so on and so forth and to him that’s just the natural progression. you get older. you get married. you buy a nice house and have some kids and complain about taxes. 

and Billy. well, he just doesn’t think that’s the right thing for him. because, sure, his parents did it and their parents did it, but god isn’t his whole family more than a little fucked up? he can’t fathom doing any better than his parents, he thinks his whole bloodline is cursed- or it might as well be -and that maybe the Hargrove name is better off dying with him. 

oh, but then they fall in love. slowly, and then all at once, if you’ll forgive me for quoting John Green. and Billy keeps telling himself that this won’t last, that it’ll end eventually, that Steve should be with someone more his speed (read: his status, because Billy’s family is not what you’d call wealthy and even sans-small-town-homophobia, he can’t picture Steve’s parents being all too thrilled with Steve shacking up with the likes of him). but it doesn’t end. they even move out of Hawkins, find a tiny apartment in Chicago. the rent is too high and the heat doesn’t always work but they each find jobs and they make it work. they use the birthday and Christmas checks from Steve’s parents, and the ones that Susan sends when she has the money (because she’s divorced from Neil now, filed the papers after Max went off to college because, with both kids out of the house, she felt safer, like she wasn’t putting them in danger if she pissed Neil off). Max goes to school nearby, visits them frequently, even helps them decorate because, let’s face it, they have terrible taste. years go by and that little apartment becomes cozy, starts to feel like home, and one night- after they’ve been drinking, of course, when their inhibitions are lowered and their tongues a bit looser -Steve starts to talk about starting a family. and Billy freaks out. changes the subject and hopes that Steve is drunk enough to forget ever having brought it up. 

he can’t stop thinking about it, though. he talks to Max about it- she admits that she never saw him as a family man, not until she saw him with Steve, and after they talk she starts asking when he’s going to make her an aunt; he talks to Heather- who has been his best friend since the summer of ‘85 and who gushes at the idea of him being father, of him and Steve being fathers. and Steve doesn’t forget. he just doesn’t bring up because he’s afraid it’ll scare Billy off for good, so imagine his surprise when they’ve laying all tangled and sweaty and messy in bed and Billy softly murmurs that maybe, just maybe, having a baby isn’t the worst thing they could do. 

they have to think about their options, of course. a surrogate? if so, who should it be? Max? Billy is uncomfortable with that. they could ask Robin, they think. perhaps Heather? they bring it up to her and she’s head over fucking heels. hell, she’ll give them an egg if they want it. and so it’s decided. and, of course, they keep telling themselves not to get their hopes up, because this is still a new science and it might not take, the doctors have told them this through every step- from the consults, to the check-ups, to the moment they handed over the check and Heather made the appointment. I mean, Steve’s hopes are definitely up. that’s how he is. and Billy knows it. he doesn’t sleep for a whole week, because he’s so scared of what might happen, he’s so scared of Steve being disappointed. Steve wants this. Billy knows how badly, but he doesn’t realize how much he wants it himself until he’s sitting outside the bathroom door waiting for Heather to take the pregnancy test. his heart is in. his fucking gut until she comes out absolutely beaming because it worked!!! she’s pregnant!!!

and, of course, Steve and Billy treat her like a goddamn queen throughout the pregnancy. she stays with them for a few nights a week; they get to feel the baby kick for the first time, they help her through morning sickness (which is, unfortunately, all-hours-of-the-day sickness for her). Heather officially moves in, and Susan and Max come to visit, in the last few weeks. they’re all there in the hospital when Heather gives birth, and my god, does she have the most beautiful baby girl you could ever imagine. Steve is the one to cut the cord, the first one to hold the baby; Billy is too scared to hold her, she’s so tiny, she fits right in the palm of Steve’s hand, and Billy is terrified of hurting her. it takes a lot of encouragement from both Heather and Steve for him to finally pick her up, feed her, burp her, change her. 

they hyphenate her last name; Hargrove-Harrington (her middle name is Holloway, because they wanted to include Heather- they wouldn’t have their baby without her, of course) (her full name is Rosanna Holloway Hargrove-Harrington, because of course Billy wanted a musical name, and maybe Heather was playing Toto a lot while pregnant, and maybe Steve mentioned that he liked the song) (they call her Rosie and Rosa as a child, but she goes by Ro when she’s older) (yes, I’ve thought about this in too much detail). 

Robin and Dustin road trip it to Chicago and decorate the apartment- they put up a big banner that says “Welcome Home Triple-H”, because that’s the name that Billy and Steve kept throwing around when trying to decided what to about the baby’s last name ( “Come on,” Steve said, “all three of us? Baby Girl Hargrove-Harrington-Holloway.”, to which Billy replied, “That’s too fucking long. Imagine a five year old learning how to write that fucking nightmare of a name.”, and Steve said, “Fine. A new last name: Triple H.” and Billy would just walk out of the room.)

the first few months are bumpy, but the six month check-up they’ve really gotten the hang of it. Billy isn’t scared to hold her anymore. Steve often finds them asleep on the couch together, or hears Billy singing to her in the next room (and, okay, he’s prefer that Billy didn’t sing fucking Motley Crue to her, but she likes it, and it’s so goddamn sweet that Steve can’t be mad). 

and Max loves being an aunt. she is with that little girl all. the. time. (and, yes, Aunt Max is totally there when her niece goes through her first breakup, and yes she absolutely brings her to the mall (Aunt El in tow, of course) to get her mind off, and I quote, “stupid boys”). Heather and Robin are wonderful aunts, too. Heather showers the baby with so much love. she lives with Steve and Billy until the baby is weaned from breastfeeding, and she drops by for visits every week. Robin is the baby’s favorite, though. she’s the one who never fails to get down on the ground and play with her, to wrestle with her, to teach her three different languages so that they can have secret conversations without the dads knowing (it’s all innocent, usually talking about Father’s Day plans or what Ro wants to get her dads for Christmas, but boy does it drive Billy up a wall - Steve thinks it’s funny, of course). 

and eventually they’re in a good enough spot to move into a house, and it has a white fence and Billy builds and swingset in the backyard and, god, how did this become his life??? when Steve casually mentions, one night after putting their daughter to bed, that maybe they should have another kid, Billy is surprised when he says yes. even more surprised that he’s the one that suggests adopting, because maybe there’s some kid out there like him, some kid that just needs some help. they know it’ll be hard, that adoption is already a difficult process without being a same-sex couple, but they go for it. Max, Robin, and Heather all write them recommendations, and Susan and Steve’s mother both vouch for them (they want more grandbabies, okay?). it takes time, so much time, but eventually they get a little boy. a little brother for their daughter, a new son, and they can’t wait to get him home. 

he’s a baby, just a few months old, and they name him James (James William Hargrove-Harrington, at Steve’s insistence, because “he’s going to be just like you. trust me. I can tell.”) after the police chief that helped them so much back in Hawkins- because you can’t tell me that, even Upside Down shit aside, Hopper wouldn’t have protected those boys if he could) their daughter loves her new brother. she dotes on him constantly, always wants to hold him, is the Best Big Sister. 

and Steve is so stupid happy. he thinks about how crazy, insane, stupid happy he is every night when he sees Billy sitting on the floor, the kids at his sides, reading them bedtime stories or playing them music, whenever he sees those kids look at Billy like he hung the goddamn moon, because, yeah, he always figured that a family was in the future, because it was supposed to be in his future, be never thought it could be this good. that it could be this perfect, that he would love it this much.

and Billy? he knew that Steve would be a natural. he’s proven right every time he finds Steve awkwardly folded up in one of the kid’s beds, having been dragged there to protect them from a nightmare; every time he sees Steve helping with homework, or tying a shoe, or when Steve becomes a nervous wreck when it’s time for them to learn to drive. but he never expected to fall so head over heels in love with his children, never imagined that he’d have a family, let alone that he’d stick around to watch it grow. he struggles. he struggles a lot. he still has a temper that takes a lot to control, and there are bumps in the road, but he has his family now- he has Steve, and he has their kids, and my god, if he isn’t the luckiest man in the world. 

anyway that’s what I've been think about lately, hbu. 

[blu-screen]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

repost, don’t reblog

basics !

FULL NAME. sans the skeleton PRONUNCIATION. sans the skel-e-ton NICKNAME. blu. nebula. roofdog. bonehead. smiley trash bag GENDER. male HEIGHT. 4′5″ in his ‘original’ sprite AGE. well over 300 but resets and memory problems cause issues here, mentally in his mid 30′s or so ZODIAC. cancer SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english, several programming languages, wingdings (monster dialect)

physical characteristics !

HAIR COLOR. bright red when he has it, almost unnaturally so EYE COLOR. generally white or pale blue BODY TYPE.  short and stocky ACCENT.  largely neutral with traces of northern british VOICE. deep and fairly even, waxing a touch lyrical often. generally sounds like he’s in on some joke no one else in the room has worked out, however this is sharply contrasted by the sheer bitter monotone that pops up when he’s coaxed into speaking seriously. DOMINANT HAND. left POSTURE. constant slouching, hands rarely leave pockets TATTOOS. small paper airplane etched on the back of his right scapula BIRTHMARKS. n/a MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). being a skeleton tends to stand out to most folks, for those more familiar with monsters his shortness tends to be the next item of note. bears a mild scar like ‘groove’ across his ribcage, as well as a tiny tail not seen on the majority of his alternates. the blaster form he most often takes is, of course, rather an entire recognizable feature in it’s own right..

childhood !

PLACE OF BIRTH. underground, kingdom of monsters, origin timeline unknown HOMETOWN. snowdin BIRTH WEIGHT. monsters like blu are less ‘born’ and more formed as SOULs that find the shape that best defines them over time. so basically nothing? BIRTH HEIGHT.  same as above FIRST WORDS. ‘k SIBLINGS. one brother, papyrus, goes by ‘GREEN’, considers ‘dot’/alphys to be as good as his adopted sister at this point PARENTS. unknown, mostly forgotten, and likely all the better for it PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT.  unsupportive - to put it lightly.

adult life !  

OCCUPATION.  former guard and royal scientist turned multiversal errand boy, ‘freelance’ scientist and part time bartender CURRENT RESIDENCE. little between homes right now, spending a lot of time at base B1-H3D in starbound, and hiding out in animal crossing CLOSE FRIENDS. phthalo, dot, lex, bill, don, lee, rud, gigs RELATIONSHIP STATUS. various levels of involvement with various friends, highly and openly poly but lacking the confidence to seek any deeper commitment FINANCIAL STATUS. broke his gold cap while messing with his own code some time ago, technically has infinite gold but prefers not to go spreading that information around.. DRIVER’S LICENSE. nah, prefers teleportation CRIMINAL RECORD. nope. though he is guilty of morally dubious scientific practices, petty theft, murder and quite likely some form of arson VICES. alcohol, smoking, gambling, various clearly self destructive behaviors

sex and romance !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. grey-asexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. andro-romantic/polyromantic PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive  | dominant |  switch | unsure PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive  | dominant  | switch LIBIDO. higher than he likes to let on, particularly given the complication of the missing specific attraction element  TURN ONS.  intimidation/fear, dominance, bondage, being bossed around but also partners who are a little easily flustered and willing to be bossed around (more dominant by nature than he trusts himself to let on, most of the time) TURN OFFS.  as much as he enjoys the threat of pain, actual pain is almost always a nope out, that and being humiliated. LOVE LANGUAGE. absolutely a ‘gift giver’ type, also likes to make himself available to listen to the folks he cares about. tends to think he has little else to offer.. also tends to go from ‘don’t touch me!’ to being an absolute snugglebutt once he cares for someone enough, but sees this more as taking than giving himself. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  very cautious, in everything from assumption of involvement with someone, to attempting to initiate any form of intimacy. while poly he has a bad habit of checking out once someone else is involved due to self hatred and an assumption he’s never much of a permanent thing to anyone. but if someone can get past that? he’s an incredibly soft guy who’s willing to bend over backwards for the folks he cares about, even if this means breaking his general preference towards pacifism

miscellaneous !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. sans. (acoustic cover) - lenich and kirya lithium - nirvana the cold science of supremacy - wildstar online ost digital sea - thrice lost in time - celldweller memories lie - red vox duvet - boa terrible lie - nine inch nails *you can’t understand how this feels - COEURLAMARI a date with demise (it’s raining somewhere else remix) - insaneintherainmusic

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. gamejumping, code experimentation, making fireworks, multiverse mapping, pretending to be asleep so folks won’t ask him for anything for a bit, dissociating MENTAL ILLNESSES. while i write him with major depression and severe anxiety/active paranoia and ptsd on purpose, he also seems to show signs of bpd, possibly avpd, however i’m not willing to claim those explicitly without considerably more research so. work in progress there.. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. some kind of chronic pain? a combination of glitching code and the ramifications for the modifications to allow him to carry DT in his SOUL LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. left FEARS. abandonment, loss of control, death (outside of certain manically self destructive episodes), being trapped and/or experimented on (again) SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.  as low as it gets. the kid beat him far too many times to have faith in his own abilities anymore, from where blu’s standing? he really is the weakest enemy in the game..  VULNERABILITIES. poor physical health, low hp, self destructive tagged by: @avangelical tagging: took so long i’m. p sure everyone’s done it by now? but feel free to nick it and tag me if you want!

[tasteofshapes]

IchiRuki, the first time they said I love you and meant it romantically?

A/N: Warning, this is a long text post. This is also for day 28 of Ichiruki month. I had to skip several days of prompts to finish this, but oh man, writing this was SO. MUCH. FUN. I’ve played fast and loose with the manga and LA movie and basically combined both into one long timeline, so this is somewhat canon compliant. Also, please drop a comment and let me know: for long fics (anything 5 pages and over), do people still prefer reading it on tumblr or just a link to AO3?

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Day 28: puppy love / Into Something Rich and Strange  |  Other Days

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Ichigo doesn’t know when it starts. Maybe it begins during one of those lunches, when Mizuiro talks about his latest girlfriend, and the other boys curiously press him for more information: how far have you gone? Have you held hands? Have you kissed? Are you planning to go to a love hotel? He’s too busy thinking about how he can squeeze in more training, so he completely misses Mizuiro’s replies, and is taken aback when the group’s attention suddenly refocuses on him and his relationship with Rukia.

“So what’s going on with you and Kuchiki-san”, Keigo asks, a sly smile on his face, and Ichigo is forced to confront the reality of the nature of their relationship.

“Nothing”, he says truthfully, and maybe the answer pricks at him more than he thought it would. 

Or maybe it starts even before then, on one of their early morning training sessions down by the riverside, when he looked up and saw the way the wind rippled through her hair, and realised, with a startled sort of ache in his chest, that Rukia was fiercely beautiful with that sword in her hand. Either way, the dawning knowledge that something’s happening that he doesn’t quite understand makes him grumpy.

Despite having had one secretly living in his closet for the last month, Ichigo doesn’t know the first thing about girls. He’s never really noticed them except to observe that they come and go in a pack, and they’re always giggling and blushing every time they look at him or call his name. He supposes that’s why he’s never really noticed that Rukia was a girl – logically, he knows that she is, but Rukia isn’t part of any of the girl cliques that form and break and reform again every week like the tide, and she definitely doesn’t blush when she’s around him. She’s just… Rukia, and she drifts through the school days like a jellyfish, invisible and indistinguishable from the hundreds of other students that course through the hallways of his school.

So it’s with a certain amount of surprise that he looks at her one morning, his training sword knocked out of his hand and hers pressed to his throat again, and says, “You look different.”

 “I- what?” Rukia’s nonplussed, but her sword doesn’t waver as she darts a quick look down at herself. She’s wearing their mandated school uniform, not a button out of place.

He frowns, because the way the dawn light plays over her face is a mystery that he is determined to solve. “Did you do something with your hair?”

She blinks at him in confusion. “No? Ichigo, focus. I’ve got my sword to your throat, what’s your next move?”

“You’ll surrender?” He says, and she just laughs at him.

“And how do you plan to make me, fool?”

In reply, he knocks her sword aside, grabs her hands and yanks her forward. She stumbles straight into his arms and he catches her automatically, then takes three quick steps forward and pins her against the tree. He presses a forearm against her throat, his free hand gripping both her wrists and pressing them into the tree trunk above her head. She’s warm and tiny under his hands, and her eyes are wide as she looks up at him in surprise.

“So,” Ichigo says, and he’s proud of the fact that his voice comes out steady, “we were discussing the terms of your surrender?”

Rukia scowls up at him so unhappily that he laughs, and the moment is gone. It’s something that he can’t stop thinking about though, a memory that filters to the surface of his consciousness over and over again. After that, something changes. There’s a subtle, but noticeable shift that he can’t quite put his finger on.

Ichigo doesn’t give it much thought after that, except that he finds himself looking at Rukia when he thinks she isn’t paying attention, and she keeps catching him at it and frowning puzzledly back at him. Ichigo concludes that he would not make a good spy.

It finally hits him one afternoon, when they stay back after class so that he can help her with English Literature. The classroom is empty, and it’s just them, twin heads bowed over the textbook as if in prayer. English is her worst subject, and Shakespeare completely eludes her. He’s explaining a scene in Romeo and Juliet to her when she shakes her head and says, sounding lost, “but they just met! How do they know they love each other?”

Ichigo shrugs. “They just do. Romeo falls in love with one look at her beauty too rich for use, for he ne’er saw true beauty till this night, and then he realizes that he never loved anyone until that moment. And Juliet falls back in love with him when they kiss for the first time.”

She lifts one skeptical eyebrow. “That sounds awfully shallow to me. What kind of love can survive on a foundation as shaky as a look and a kiss?”

Ichigo privately agrees. “Puppy love,” he suggests. At her quizzical look, he elaborates: “eh, when you’re young and stupid, it’s easy to fall in love. In all the books they say it only takes a moment to capture a heart. The small things, you know, like the way she laughs or turns her head, or how she glows in the morning when the sunlight hits her face…”

He trails off as Rukia lifts her gaze from the textbook to look him with those big, violet eyes, and then Ichigo realizes that he’s been describing her all along. He stares dumbly back at her for what seems like an eternity until she looks away, uncomfortable. The silence stretches on and on.

“Rukia, I,” Ichigo says, mouth dry, and then stops, because he doesn’t know what comes after. He doesn’t know what this is, and he doesn’t want to say things to her if he can’t be certain of what he means.

“It’s getting late,” she says abruptly, avoiding his eyes as she stands up and starts gathering her books. “We should head back before it gets dark.” 

Ichigo doesn’t remind her that it’s four in the afternoon, and that the sun doesn’t set till seven.

He scrubs a hand through hair, frustrated at himself, but says, “yea, alright,” and starts packing up too. They’re quiet on the way back, and there’s an awkward distance between them that stretches like an ocean. 

On the surface, nothing changes, but now he’s conscious of her in a way that he never was before. She’s a puzzle that he’s just beginning to understand. 

He mulls over it as he queues up with her to buy her lunch. Rukia has depleted whatever credit she had during her time in the Living World and she has no source of income, so more often than not, he ends up being her personal ATM. At first he buys her things that she’s not used to with the aim of helping her get used to the modern world: curry buns, potato snacks, and canned Coke. She duly tries them all, but then one time he catches her eyeing the ramen stall longingly, and from then on he makes it a point to get her something that he definitely knows that she likes.

Today, it’s curry rice. Meal duly purchased, they make their way over to a table in a corner and he pulls out the homemade bento that Yuzu has made: salmon teriyaki with tamago and deep-fried tofu, topped with a generous helping of rice. He would have asked Yuzu for an extra one for Rukia, except that he can’t quite come up with a good reason for it.

“You’re lucky Yuzu’s such a good cook,” Rukia says, eyeing his tamago, and he automatically cuts it and puts half on her plate.

“You’re being nice today,” she says, sounding confused.

“I’m always nice.”

“Not this nice. And anyway, your face says otherwise. I think half the girls in the class are terrified of you.”

“Only half? I must be losing my touch.” He pauses, and it stings that she thinks he’s stingy enough that he wouldn’t share his food with her. “Rukia, you know you can always ask me if there’s something you want. If I can get it for you, I will.”

A look of apprehension settles over her face, but before she can reply, Chad appears behind her, with Keigo and Mizuiro in tow.

“Is this a lunch date, or can anyone join?” Mizuiro says, making flirty eyes at Rukia, at the same time that Keigo says, “Ichigo, you sneaky bastard! So this is where you’ve been disappearing to during lunch! Kuchiki-san, has he been hitting on you? What a terrible experience that must have been for you!” Despite the sympathetic words coming out of his mouth, Keigo’s giving Ichigo obvious winks of approval and there’s a massive leer on his face.

Ichigo closes his eyes and contemplates if he would get away with murdering the two of them in front of half of the school.

“Ah, company!” Rukia says, and the relief is evident in her voice. “Please, sit! Making conversation with Kurosaki-kun has been such an ordeal. He’s all broody frowns and dark looks, and now he’s saying he wants to give things to people for free? He is clearly insane and I think this is why he has no friends.”

“You poor thing,” Mizuiro says insincerely, and drops into the seat next to her, and Ichigo resigns himself to spending the next half an hour fending off inappropriate personal questions from his friends.

He tries to bring it up again a few days later after they finish a round of Hollow hunting. He’s getting stronger, the Hollows are getting easier to vanquish, and he’s riding a successful post-Hollow high when he turns to her and says, “do you think you’ll still need me in the future?”

“Huh?” Rukia’s distracted, checking the mobile.

“Once you get your power back. Do you think you’ll still need me?”

“Oh. I haven’t really thought about that, so I don’t have an answer for you right now. To be honest, it doesn’t feel like I’m getting any stronger.” She clenches and unclenches her fist, troubled by the way her body responds, and he can’t help himself as he moves towards her and touches her shoulder.

“Well, no matter what, I’ll always be your friend.”

Rukia looks up at him in alarm. “A Shinigami and a human can’t be friends,” she says cautiously, and he snorts.

“Then what would you call this? Of course we’re friends. In fact, we’re more than friends, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” She says softly, uncertainty written on her face, and this is his undoing.

“Of course we are,” he says, and they’re standing so close now that he can feel the heat radiating off her body. “You live with me, and I buy you lunch everyday. We’re- we’re…” He doesn’t have a word to describe this. His hand is still on her shoulder, her hair brushing against his fingers. Abruptly, she takes a step back.

“It’s late. We should head back.”

He’s thrown by the sudden change, but swallows the protests lodged in his throat because Rukia looks wary, and he’s not so selfish that he would push this onto her.

He blows out his breath, says, “okay,” then turns around and couches down on one knee, offering his back to her, hands positioned to catch her. “It’ll be faster this way,” he says when she doesn’t move.

She’s hesitant, but they’re several miles out of town and walking will take ages, so she gets on. She’s a warm weight on his back, a reminder of the storm of confusion swirling inside him. They don’t talk for the rest of the night, and he doesn’t bring it up again.

Things finally come to a head after he fights Renji and loses, and ends up lying on the school’s rooftop staring up at the sky while she frantically tries to rub away his wounds.

“Rukia,” he says, “what are we going to do?”

She goes still, but she doesn’t reply. The sunset that day is a brilliant watercolour of pink and orange, but all he can see is her by his side, head bowed. It’s finally then, when he has to face the threat of having her taken away, that everything crystallises and he sees what this tiny girl has begun to mean to him. But there’s no time and no good moment to say it; he has a month to buy her freedom, and he throws himself into training with renewed vigour. Rukia’s too worried about the possibility of him dying to concentrate on anything else; she completely gives up all pretense at being human and spends most of the school day staring blankly out the window.

Ichigo knows this, because now he spends most of his school day watching her stare out the window. He’s vaguely aware of his classmates whispering about him, but he doesn’t have any spare energy left to wonder what fresh rumours are circulating around him and Rukia this time. He trains harder than he’s ever done in that month, and they talk battle strategies at night, and he tries not to think about how each passing day is a countdown to her life.

In the end, he loses. Byakuya stabs him twice and then it’s over. He’s left on the ground, bleeding out, and her eyes are filled with unshed tears as she looks at him for the last time. There’s so much to say and not enough time to say it. Ichigo watches her go with her brother and Renji, watches the gates open and swallow her up, and closes his eyes against the hard knot of failure in his chest.

Except that it’s not the end. He gets stronger and goes to Soul Society and beats up everyone who stands in his path, upending centuries of orders and rules along the way, and saves her.

“Yo,” he says, and the way her eyes widen comically as she stares at him is worth it. Worth every scar, worth every drop of blood split, worth what he has had to transform himself into.

“You idiot,” she screams a moment later. Predictably, they get into a fight right before she’s about to be executed. 

But he saves her, exposes the traitors rotting in the core, and then it’s all over. He doesn’t relax until she’s been officially pardoned. Once it’s done, once she’s finished yelling at him for being such a fool, Ichigo, is your head completely empty?, they find an unoccupied rooftop on a random building on the 13th Division’s grounds and he lies back against the tiles  and lets out a long sigh that he didn’t know he had been holding in. It’s a months-long sigh, a deep sigh of satisfaction, and he feels his whole body go loose and liquid.

“Why did you come,” Rukia says, and he hates how uncertain she sounds.  

“Dummy, you saved my life. You changed my world. Of course I would.” The tiles against his back are warm from the sun, and he’s deliberately not looking at her.

“Ah. Well, if it’s because you think you have a debt to repay,” and he wonders if that’s a note of disappointment that he hears in her voice, “you can consider your debt discharged.”

He snorts in reply, raising himself up on elbow to look at her. “This was never about repaying a debt, Rukia. You idiot, isn’t it obvious how I feel about you by now?”

Her face is a mixture of emotions that he can’t read. “Oh,” she finally says. “So is this… puppy love?”

He snorts again, staring at her with incredulity. “Rukia. After all that we’ve done for each other, I think we’ve gone a bit past the puppy love stage by now, don’t you?”

“Oh,” she says again, faintly. The silence stretches out before them.

“Anyway, you know they die at the end, right?”

“What?”

“Romeo and Juliet. She’s destined to marry another, but they fall in love, so they try and marry in secret, only Romeo gets banished. So Juliet tries to fake her own death to escape and be with him, only he thinks that she’s actually dead, and kills himself. Then she wakes up and finds him dead, so she kills herself.”

Rukia’s eyes grow wider with every passing sentence. “That’s a terrible story! I can’t believe they actually teach you this.”

Ichigo shrugs. “It’s meant to be a romantic tragedy, you know, the two lovers killing themselves because they think the other is dead.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Killing yourself for no reason is no way to honour the memory of the person you love. But trying your best to live your life in honour of them, that’s how you know they were important, that they meant something.” Her voice grows soft. “Ichigo… if I had been executed, I would have gone peacefully, knowing that I had given my life in exchange for someone that meant a lot to me.”

“Oh,” Ichigo says. He’s thinking about what she said, about sacrifices and his mother, and it takes him a full minute before the rest of her words finally hit him. Then, “ohh.” He looks at her then, trying and failing to hold back a smile. “So, you mean me?”

“Well, actually I was referring to Chad.” Rukia says, deadpan, and he laughs and daringly, reaches out for her hand. She looks at him in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away. Her hand is warm and small in his, and his breath hitches as their fingers carefully interlace. The world has gone golden from the rays of the setting sun, and his chest is tight with joy.

“So, what now?”

“I’m going to stay in Soul Society for a while,” she says decidedly, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t interrupt. “I’ll need some time to recover and get my powers back. And then after… after, I’ll come and find you.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Ichigo says firmly. She nods. 

They sit there until the sun sets, and the lights of Soul Society come on one by one, twinkling like constellations in the dark. Rukia leans against his arm and rests her head on his shoulder, and they stay like that for a while, until it gets too cold. Then he walks her back to the Kuchiki manor, telling her about his fight with Kenpachi, and she tells him that he is a lucky moron of the highest order and he should stop courting death so literally.

Everything goes back to normal, only now they try out this new thing of holding hands when no one’s looking, and he feels giddily happy whenever he sees her. They have a few more of these rooftop conversations, and then he leaves a few days later, with the others, and Rukia comes to see them off at the gates. 

“I’ll look for you,” she tells him quietly, as the others exchange goodbyes, and he grabs her hand and squeezes it quickly.

“It’s a promise.” He looks at her for one long, last moment, trying to commit the image of her kimono flapping in the breeze to memory, and she smiles at him.

“Thank you for everything, Ichigo,” she says.

Because he still always wants to have the last word, he says, “that’s my line, Rukia,” and then hurries through the gates.

Returning to real life after that is like a punch in the gut. Everything is loud, frenetic, and he feels one step behind and out of sync. The world moves too fast without her in it. But he remembers her words, so he refuses to let himself pine, forces himself to join in, and slowly, a sort of equilibrium returns. Still, he leaves his window open every night, waiting. 

Then one day, one particularly bad day, he hears the shocked gasps of his classmates and looks up to see her standing at the open windows of his classroom, outlined against the sun. His heart stutters to a stop.

“What’s with that look on your face,” she demands, and he has no idea what she’s talking about because the next thing he knows she’s kicking him in the face.

“What the - Rukia!” He yells, furious, and she grabs him and drags him out of the classroom. She gets the whole story out of him, makes him apologise to Orihime for being weak and pathetic, and then the ball of shame that he’s been carrying around in the pit of his stomach abruptly dissipates.

“You big idiot,” she says fondly, “can’t even survive a month without me?”

He scowls. “I didn’t know how long you were going to be away! You could have given me some warning, you know!”

“And where would be the fun in that? You should have seen the look on your face. It was like you had seen a ghost!” She chuckles at her own joke as they walk back to class together. 

“Funny,” he mutters. “Are you staying with me?”

She turns to look at him in mock surprise. “Don’t you want me to? Have you moved on already, Kurosaki-kun? Tsk, what a fickle heart you have.”

“Rukia!” 

She laughs at his outraged expression. “My things are already in your room,” she says comfortingly. They pause outside the classroom. “I’ll find you after school,” she promises, and then she slides the door open to a wall of noise as his classmates pounce on her and drag her in and demand to know where she’s been. He can’t get anywhere near her for the rest of the day.

Afterwards, he waits impatiently by the school gate, checking his watch every few seconds. It’s sticky and humid, the air heavy with the promise of rain. She comes running up, face flushed, and he’s struck by how happy she looks, how alive.

“Yo, Ichigo,” she says, brushing her hair out of her eyes and all he can think is, beautiful.

“Stop stealing my lines.” He says, and she laughs at him. 

They don’t touch, but they are close enough that their hands brush against each other as they walk back slowly. There’s no need to rush, and they settle back into their routine as easily as if they were never apart. She catches him up on what she’s been doing in Soul Society, and he tells her what he’s been up to. 

The rain starts as they’re halfway back, and they make it a run for it before giving up and taking shelter in the awning in front of a closed shop. Rukia’s completely soaked through, and she couches down, shivering, her hair sticking to her cheeks.

“It’s cold,” she says, sounding surprised, wrapping her arms around herself, and Ichigo digs into his bag and pulls out his rumpled school jacket.

“Here,” he says, then squats down in front of her and drapes his jacket over her shoulders. His face is close enough to hers that his every exhale is a puff of warm air against her cheek.

“Thanks,” Rukia murmurs, ducking her head. The jacket’s oversized on her, and he tucks the fabric more securely around her. His hands linger on the collar of his jacket, and then he grabs the lapels and gently pulls her forward and brushes his lips against hers.

She kisses him back, sweet and slow, and he doesn’t realise how long he has been waiting for this moment until it happens. He’s breathless and flushed when they finally part, and the words that he has wanted to say to her for a long time finally bubble up to the surface.

“Rukia,” he says, and at that moment, he’s never been more certain of anything else in his life. “I love you.”

She smiles back at him, her face bright like the sun, and says, “I know that, you dummy. I love you too.”

[balkanballad]

Eurovision 2020 ranking

welcome to another year and another ranking. the last few years I used to put the songs in different categories, but this year I did that (from top 💐 to flop 🥀) AND gave every song an actual number AND added a comment. wow, so brave, I know. it’s a bit long, but here we go:

💐:

Norway: it was love at first sight and listen with this song. I connect with it, I love the lyrics, the instruments, her, everything about the nf performances. this is my very strong number one this year and, btw, the studio version is so much weaker than the live version

Switzerland: this song makes me very emotional and I love it. his voice is so lovely and with this one I, again, enjoy and feel the lyrics. I am very curious to see what they will do on stage

Australia: I wouldn’t say that I am always a huge fan of the songs with more goofy vibes and staging, but this one is a fave. I wasn’t in a great mood when I listened to this the first time and I remember crying because it was just very fitting to my personal situation. so, me and this song have an emotional connection now. also, I enjoyed the contrast that the staging in the national final gave it. it’s just.. same to everything about this song and performance. it’s also my favourite entry from Australia so far

North Macedonia: my only ‘dance’ song in this favourite category. it makes me wanna dance but in a tango and dimmed red lights way. I would also say that it made me think a bit of Switzerland last year, but I like this better

Croatia: another favourite entry that won a national final! I didn’t have a terribly bad year with national final faves. I might even say that I had a good year. anyway, a Balkan ballad :) with nice lyrics :) a bit sad and great violins :) of course I am into this. I love it

Portugal: I had this saved as a favourite before I saw the live performances and I really like that it won the national final. it’s super sweet, pastel pink vibes and my cup of tea

Finland: sweet! this makes me tear up a bit and I see a pattern this year for my personal preference: songs that make me melancholic and cry a bit. although, no one should be surprised because nostalgia and melancholy seem to always be with me

Denmark: while I was making this ranking and listening to the songs over and over, I think this song moved up the most. this is very sweet. last year was too sweet for me and I think this one is better, but on the edge to crossing that line. however, I love that we have a duet. I’m a big fan of duets. is someone going to propose this year again? this song would be at least perfect for that occasion. or maybe a bit too pushing actually.. 

🌺:

(no. 9) Israel: maybe a tiny little bit too much going on in a 3-minute song and something about it reminded me a bit of JESC songs, but I love the rhythm and I think this performance will be fun 

(no. 10) UK: it’s a good song. the breath! part makes it more interesting and I have this song in my car playlist, which means that I am not skipping it usually. however, I also came across the BBC recording and I am not very convinced that the staging and everything will be enough to secure it a high placing in the end

(no. 11) Romania: oh look, I once again connected to a song because I feel the lyrics. that is probably not the best sign with this song but oh well. I am not the biggest fan of the live version here and prefer the studio recording. maybe another bad sign or maybe it’s just the weird screaming in the back and low quality of the equipment etc.

(no. 12) The Netherlands: I don’t think that they are trying to win another time this year with this, but it’s a cute and sweet song and everyone will cheer anyway. I listened to one live recording and there he sounded amazing

🌻:

(no. 13) Armenia: maybe this would be a guilty pleasure, but it’s 2020 we are just enjoying songs. I think the staging for this song will decide how it goes because the song itself is definitely.. different and not for everyone. the studio version is a lot better than the live performance, the lyrics are a bit repulsive to me and I feel like this could slip in the category ‘cheap’, but the whole song also gives me a weird kind of self-confidence boost when I listen to it 

(no. 14) Azerbaijan: okay, so the song title made me very excited. the lyrics are.. there. I don’t think I was looking for something relatable in this song, but they are just very random to me. funny enough, I think this will be competing with Armenia because of similar vibes and because a lot depends on the staging. however, I think that this might do better because it’s more esc mainstream and has a better flow, but then again, maybe don’t rely on me when I say such things  

(no. 15) Greece: this sounds a bit like a JESC entry to me and I have mixed feelings about it. with this I am also not sure what the message is supposed to be, but I really like the instruments  

(no. 16) Estonia: hm. I must admit that I like this song more than I want to, but I don’t love it. I like the dramatic touch, but it’s not relatable at all, which isn’t necessary a factor for a good song of course. I just like having my emotional support songs and this is not one of them 

(no. 17) Poland: this and Albania are in the same semi and sound too similar, so my prediction is that only one of these two will go through. personally, I like Poland better, but even if none of them makes it, it won’t break my heart I think

(no. 18) Spain: this song feels a lot longer than 3 minutes and it might be because it’s repetitive, but I can listen to it still. just not too often

(no. 19) Lithuania: this is a fan fave, right? personally, I’m just.. not in love. I like the message, but I don’t feel the need to listen to it regularly 

(no. 20) Iceland: it’s alright. it’s there. I can’t really think about things to say about this  

(no. 21) Italy: a ballad. in Italian. ground-breaking. just kidding, I think the fact that it’s in Italian saves it a bit, but I don’t really listen to this. I don’t mind it playing in the background, but it’s also not in my car playlist

(no. 22) Ukraine: I feel like I should technically like this more than I do, but I don’t really listen to this, sorry

(no. 23) Belarus: just like with Ukraine: I think I should like this a lot more than I currently do. I also find this song a bit boring

🌼:

(no. 24) Georgia: not a fan of the screaming, but I see why it fits the song. I am not sure, though, whether this will be the year that they make it back to the final 

(no. 25) Albania: did anyone ask for the English revamp? I don’t think so, but they did it anyway. it is too forgettable for my taste and reminds me of something that they sent already in the past few years, but now it’s in English, so even less original. it isn’t a bad ballad though

(no. 26) Ireland: I know what this song is trying to tell me, but it is trying very hard to make sure we all understand it. it also reminds me a bit of a song that they would play in a disney channel film and it annoys me a bit

(no. 27) France: I might not skip it always, but it’s very repetitive and I still stand with my association of the Netflix show YOU and this (sorry, Tom)

(no. 28) Austria: my friend said that this song sounds like it should be by Sweden and I think that she is right. I never really was into that kind of vibe though, so I am not the biggest fan

(no. 29) Germany: not terrible, but also kind of strange vibes. I don’t like the lyrics (I will tell my mama whatever I want). I also think that Germany took inspiration from Switzerland last year and who knows, maybe they will finally start playing their own songs on the German radio stations and stop playing Sweden’s 2016 entry

(no. 30) San Marino: San Marino is once again bringing the disco vibes, thanks. I can’t watch the video twice in a row because it makes me feel like I’m on a trip, but good for her! I should definitely also get a little more freaky myself sometimes

(no. 31) Sweden: I’m not a fan. I was a fan of other Melfest entries though.. anyway, this is not a bad song of course, but definitely a bit boring to me

(no. 32) Moldova: I don’t hate it, and some very few parts of the melody I even like, but this is my least favourite Kirkorov produced, or written or bought or pushed through or whatever he does, song

(no. 33) Bulgaria: if everyone should find a similar partner then Bulgaria could team up with Romania this year. I find Bulgaria to be a lot more boring though

(no. 34) Cyprus: keep on running and keep on running and keep on running.. etc. etc. etc. this is how I feel when I make myself jog once a year 

(no. 35) Malta: sounds very familiar, but I haven’t figured out yet which generic pop song it reminds me of

(no. 36) Belgium: yet another year and I am sadly bored by Belgium’s entry yet again

🥀:

(no. 37) Czech Republic: to this song I imagine the scenario of a school mate, that you aren’t too close with, but he is friendly, so you listen to the songs he made himself and uploaded and then you assure him that it sounds cool and you will add it to your music collection, but then you don’t ever listen to it again. this never happened to me, but that’s the vibe somehow. it’s just not really my kind of song and it also misses a bit of a real concept and flow because, even after the revamp, to me it still sounds a bit unpolished

(no. 38) Serbia: nop. I am very much for wmn pwr but I don’t like this. I get very strong mean girls vibes from it and I don’t say this as a good thing because I would rather not get bullied. I despise the lyrics and overall, everything, but I see why one would call it a ‘bop’ perhaps

(no. 39) Russia: when they were announced I looked them up and already was skeptical. most of the time this simply isn’t my kind of genre, humour and taste, and I was right. it annoys me. I am sure, like with every song btw, there is an audience for this, but I am very far away from being that audience

(no. 40) Slovenia: I’m sorry, but I really don’t like her voice, which is not a good thing, obviously, when ranking songs. I also find the song quite boring and it is another example of songs that somehow feel longer than 3 mins

(no. 41) Latvia: this gives me a headache. I don’t understand the lyrics, the music makes me want to leave the room, it’s a no from me and my last place

[funamusea-translations]

DSP character speech style notes and thoughts

from mod FAFK

I’ll just be writing them as they strike me, there are too many characters to recall immediately lol.

Because of that, under a cut so I can update the list without any un-updated versions floating around.

※Update 1--I wanted a lazy way to make things more legible so I just popped things into a list. Added some more charas too

Satanick

The MOST UNSTABLE speech style. It matches him being mentally unstable.... Normally speaks casually and rough with Envi and other subordinates, Artamos, Fumus, and frequently with Ivlis in the early days (before he noticed he loved him).

Uses a lot of ~desho and ~daro  (“aint that right!! Agree with me!!!”-kind-of nuance). He uses a lot of MAJI?! (seriously?!) which makes him sound a little... dumber than his physical appearance would make you think, lol. He has the highest meme concentration (I can’t even start with all of them tbh).

SUPER FORMAL with Siralos. Crazy ultra formal. BUT he refers to Siralos as “Siralos-tan.” This is like saying “Siralos-chan” but cutesier. Siralos-babygurl. It’s definitely something you’d say for an adorable girl, which is probably Siralos’s preference? Probably.

Formal and polite with Reficul and Sin, Eti and Kcalb, if you ignore the content then he would be a fine gentleman. In some of the earliest comics with Refi and Satanick this isn’t the case though, DSP adjusted his character with time.

To Licorice he consistently uses gross babytalk (he talks shumthwing like thwis), and after he notices he loves Ivlis he has a SUPER CLINGY OVERLY-AFFECTIONATE CLOYING STICKILY-SWEET speech style when addressing him.

Normally he uses “ore-sama” to refer to himself (”hell yea I’m awesome”-type nuance), but if he’s bottoming/the sub he switches to boku. To be fair, using “ore-sama” then would kill the mood anyways.

Sin

She doesn’t talk with too many characters--she talks the most in Sunahama Tsuushin(Seashore Dispatches, Sandhill Communications, no official translation). She is very polite and respectful toward Reficul, she speaks to her as though she is her superior. Many of Reficul’s underlings and Mors call Reficul “Maousama/Devil-Lord-sama which is a respectful title, but Sin is the only one (that I know of) who calls her “Reficul-sama” which is the cutest thing!!!!!!!!!! Ever!!!!!!! I get “adoring wife of a warlord/general” type vibes

Lzet

He uses like, business casual language. He’s the sloppy guy at a white-collar workplace, technically formal, but kinda loose? Speaks formal-ish to Mors and Reficul which is sloppy, but if he were to use this same style of speech with someone lower-ranking than him or a friend, it would make him seem a bit shy (like a person who has trouble using entirely casual speech--not uncommon--but I haven’t seen him talk with anyone else yet so idk). He calls Reficul “Maou-sama” (formal title).

Ivlis

When he was young/serving Siralos, as well as when directly addressing/thinking about Siralos-sama himself: SUPER FORMAL. Good kid. Obedient, dutiful, and proper. A few tiny rough spots of speech. (there are some drawings where Ivlis sits seiza-style (formal, uncomfortable posture lol) I think this is reflective of his upbringing. Gray Garden appearance: who is this punk? lol ( ´∀｀ )♡ Consistently uses “ore” (rough-ish) I’ll add a bit more later but there’s not much to him, Satanick is the one with the ridiculously complex style

Licorice

He speaks differently depending on his size. When he is big he calls Ivlis “kaa-san” (still respectful, buuut without the honorific “o” at the start. When he speaks ABOUT his father he will say “tou-san” rather than “otou-san.” However, when speaking directly to Satanick he calls him “dumbass horse shit.”

Baby Licorice just said “ma” and “ba” (short for dumbass/horse shit).

Child Licorice calls Ivlis “mama” and uses kinda shy, sweet kid-talk.As an adult, he talks in a kind of rushed, intense manner to Ivlis and overuses the word “mother” (almost once per sentence, it’s amazing lmao). “Mother you look sad today, whats the matter, Mother you’re wonderful, hey, I won’t let Satanick hurt you Mother--”

Also, he avoids addressing Satanick altogether most of the time. Heavy insults+judgemental attitude lol.

Uses “boku”

Emalf

Uses that semi-casual type of formal speech... (If you’ve seen Shirobako, maybe Takanashi is a good example of how it sounds?) It makes him never seem serious, lacking in discretion, and lacking in brains. It matches him!!!!

“Yeah, I like, totally wanted Yosafire to be my girlfriend so I’m kinda bummed out.” ←something like that (approximation)

He calls Ivlis “Ivlis-san.” In one sense, yeah, it’s better than using no honorific. In another sense, it’s weirdly.... not as respectful as one would expect? He talks like Ivlis is like manager at his workplace, not a Devil Lord lol. All the other subordinates for other devils are more respectful...also yeah, nobody takes Ivlis seriously anyways ((´∀｀*))

Poemi-SAN. She is higher on the social pecking order, despite being younger.

Poemi

Poemi calls Emalf just straight up “Emalf” with no honorifics... the social pecking order lol. . She also has that typical kid-thing where if she doesn’t know a word she’s talking about, it will all by in hiragana, no kanji. She’s childlike, but she has her shit together (unlike Emalf.)

Met

Casual and sloppy

Kuro-tsun - overly buddy-buddy,

Calls Hanten “Nee-san.” Met’s a punk but this sounds full of admiration and kinda flirty. Probably cause it’s Met saying it.

Hanten

Not so sloppy, but casual

“Kurotsuno” no honorific, they feel like they go way back and probably not in the best of senses

Artamos

Grandpa voice (it’s so cute)

Kurotsuno

Very ladylike way of speaking. Not elegant and refined in the same way that Nagi’s speech is, but ladylike.

says “Shikabone-kun” ←cute!!!! It could be his mascot-character like appearance, he does act a bit young but he doesn’t act like she’s much older than him if at all lol.

Shikabone

“Kurotsuno-chan”

Yosafire

Uses “atashi” which is very cute and feminine.

Idate

He’s a “watashi” character and it is so crazy good I love it... He’s a well-mannered killer whale. He uses informal speech, but it’s still gentlemanly. The things he does are so NOT gentlemanly. I screwed up and wrote him saying “ore” in a comic though cause my brain pairs that word with his shitty behavior lol, but he always uses “watashi”!! The contrast is VERY good...

Samekichi You probably know, he has a gruff way of talking! I can imagine N*buhiko Ok*moto would be an amazing voice actor for him (Bakugo/Accelerator/Ghiaccho). He uses “ore” and refers to Wadanohara by name from even their early days (close relationship! Not necessarily romantic, but later of course it will be)

Wadanohara

Sal/Syake

I’ll do more later+add detail!

[cyb-by-lang]

Shell Game (11/?)

Kei and Hayate spend a day strolling around Mustafu and meet a friend.

“What’re we gonna do today?” Hayate asked on Sunday morning. After omurice and tea, the day was theirs. And perhaps feeling generous after the sleepover, he even did the dishes.

“I thought about visiting the beach,” Kei said, holding up her shinobi sandals. “What do you think?”

“Sure!”

Dagobah Beach Municipal Park had apparently been completely trashed before Kei moved into town. Whether due to ocean currents or people being jerks, the accumulated wreckage and waste electrical appliances of an entire civilization ended up on one poor stretch of beach. But over the course of ten months, somebody or something had stealthily removed all the trash and cleared the beach from one end to the other.

It was also within walking distance, since Hayate had gotten fairly burned out on trains the day before.

…Wait a fucking second.

Hm?

Dagobah. Uh, that’s…a planet. In Star Wars.

I do not understand the reference.

It goes…um… “Go to the Dagobah system.” Something, something, Yoda. It could be a star system, I guess?

Isobu sighed deeply, which was impressive for someone without lungs. Kei.

Yeah?

Please go to the beach. I need to see a real one again.

Kei and Hayate made it to the park pretty damned fast after Kei explained that.

In mid-spring, the ocean was still cold as all get out. Isobu wanted to head in and have Kei lie down in the surf, but she sharply vetoed that plan upon putting a toe in to test the temperature.

Meanwhile, Hayate darted down the beach with no difficulty, kicking up plumes of sand as he went. Though it probably wasn’t obvious to onlookers, Kei could feel the little pulses of chakra being emitted as her brother prevented himself from sinking too far. He wanted to goof off, not work out.

“Hey, if you want shaved ice, only one of us has money!” Kei called after him, but that was really an afterthought. Kei was still barefoot and walking in the surf, instead of living up to Isobu’s wish of swimming in the ocean at nine in the morning.

Besides, Hayate was already happily running loose at the water’s edge, arcs of spray following him as he went. The sand, apparently, wasn’t his first love after that whole Chūnin Exam incident in Suna.

It took a little longer before, belatedly, Kei realized Hayate had never seen the ocean before. With Konoha as deeply inland as it was, only shinobi tended to get out often enough or range widely enough to see all kinds of cool climates and piss off the indigenous wildlife. Hayate was still a typical curious kid in some significant ways. Kei had been to plenty of strange places, both on missions and when she counted her previous lifetime, though this gravel-free sand was still novel.

How spoiled she’d become. Not just by her opportunities here, but by what knowledge she carried in her soul.

Isobu gave a deep sigh of contentment, though Kei hadn’t rushed into the sea. He seemed to be okay with the results of today’s morning adventure.

“You can see forever like this!” Hayate declared to the sea and the encroaching gulls.

Kei called back, “Try skipping rocks! My record’s five skips!”

Hayate flashed her a breathless smile, then promptly ignored her idea to try and snatch the miniature fish lurking in the surf. To be fair, this world had more interesting things going for it than Kei.

Hayate did eventually get bored, but it took a few minutes. He also managed to feed the seagulls his tiny haul of fish fry, which made him a troop leader in their eyes for the next few minutes. Perhaps it was youth, hidden viciousness, or just pure silliness that kept him interacting with the seagulls long past the “Mine!” stage.

But once they discovered he did not, in fact, have any more food, they all abandoned him in favor of a man eating takoyaki.

“I feel like I’ve accomplished something,” Hayate said, while the poor guy was being chased to the other end of the beach.

Kei didn’t have it in her to criticize much. Instead, she said, “So, after all that training with your team, how’s your taijutsu?”

Most bladed implements bigger than kitchen knives were highly regulated in Japan, so Kei hadn’t actually been able to spar with her full complement of melee skills. On the other hand, Hayate hadn’t specifically stated that he was training with, say, Gai on weekdays. Iruka and Yūgao were perfectly nice kids, but neither was a melee powerhouse just yet. Hell, Kei had been teaching Yūgao how to use her katana before this mission cropped up, so it was hard to tell if Hayate was getting rusty.

Rust. For a kenjutsu specialist. Isobu snorted. Hah.

A pun for all occasions.

Hayate blanched. “Um…”

A not-so-nice smile stretched across Kei’s face before she managed to hide it. “Lucky for you, I think public fighting is illegal. But you’re gonna catch hell later.”

Hayate seemed to consider this, but Kei felt the spark in his chakra in the split second before he threw a punch.

Kei instantly caught his wrist and judo-flipped him into the surf for being a brat.

Now, Mustafu—how the hell had she missed that little chestnut for two months—was in the same city as UA. It was also the same city as Kei’s apartment, primarily by design, but the point was that running into classmates was not the statistical impossibility it might’ve been if she lived, say, in Hosu. Sure, the greater Tokyo area was a big place, and she didn’t really know if anybody preferred hanging around their super-special high school.

“Is that how you’re training for the Sports Festival?”

Then again, Shinsō had already randomly come across her once. For a kid who didn’t look like he slept much, he was up early on a weekend.

“Hey, Shinsō-san.” Kei waved up at him, because it appeared her purple-haired classmate was actually a cyclist on his days off. Nobody with sense would take even a folding bike into the sand, though she could see Gai making a training exercise out of it. Thus, Shinsō had propped his bike up on a railing and was leaning next to it.

Put him a bit out of splashing range, though. That wouldn’t be a problem for long, because Hayate had caught onto Kei’s lack of attention.

In fact, both of the Gekkō siblings promptly trooped up to Shinsō, though Kei used the access stairs and Hayate hurled himself up and over the railing in a single leap like some kind of saltwater-encrusted kangaroo. Either because of watching Kei during PE or just being too used to a world full of Quirks, Shinsō didn’t react.

“Since when are there two of you, Gekkō-san?” Shinsō pointed past Kei to Hayate, who was sizing up the newcomer.

“Since I was three. This is my kid brother, Hayate.” Kei stepped neatly to the side, allowing Hayate to sidle forward.

Hayate, who was about tall enough to reach Shinsō’s collarbone, sized him up like he expected to have to get into a fistfight. While Shinsō probably outweighed Hayate by a fair amount, Kei’s adorable baby brother was also the next in line to mastery of their mother’s kenjutsu style and had been participating in their family training since he could walk. Now a genin, he could probably take on most of the local toughs before Quirks got involved.

Then everyone blinked and the trance was broken.

Hayate dropped a fist into his open palm, as though something had just occurred to him. “Oh, wait, is this the guy with the mind control power? You didn’t say what he looked like.”

“I didn’t?” Kei tried to think back, but they’d discussed so many things over the previous (extremely tiring) day that she couldn’t remember. “Well, this is Shinsō-san. He’s in my class and… You’re at the top of the class, right?”

“You can’t remember the name of our class rep and you can remember that?” Shinsō shook his head. “You’re hopeless.”

“If he’s at the top of the class,” Hayate said after a second, looking between the other two, “where are you?”

“Well…” Kei began, belatedly realizing that this was probably a poor conversational topic.

“Dead last,” Shinsō said, throwing her under the bus as though on reflex. It was a well-developed instinct for people who hung around Kei for any length of time.

“Shut up,” Kei grumbled.

Hayate very pointedly reached up and pinched his own ear. “Okay, not dreaming.” He took a deep breath, then jabbed a finger into Kei’s chest. “But seriously, what the hell? You were at the top of your class back when you were like eight, and Obito keeps saying you slept through everything and you transferred in late. Again, what the hell?”

Called on the carpet by her very own little brother. And with a witness! Kei jerked her head away, feeling her ears heat up under her hair. “It’s different, okay?”

“I really don’t think it is!”

“She makes up for it,” Shinsō volunteered, after Hayate had started to build up steam.

He demanded crossly, “How?”

“Scaring our classmates to death.” Kei’s glare was redirected to Shinsō instead of her brother. Smirking, Shinsō went on, “It started with the scar, then they saw her Quirk, and then she’s been ignoring them all ever since.”

Hayate smacked his hand directly to his forehead. “You are my favorite sister—”

“Only sister,” Kei muttered.

“—but you’re supposed to be nice to people at least a bit, and I know you’re smart enough to do well in school anywhere. Just put your back into it!” Hayate finished. Then, perhaps realizing that he was still half-soaked, he started scrubbing his hands through his rapidly-tangling brown hair as though it would remove any of the salt or sand.

Kei and Shinsō both leaned back a little from the sudden spray.

“Anyway,” Hayate said before Kei or Shinsō could think of anything to say. “Mind control. How does it work?”

“…Why?” Shinsō asked, notably more hesitant now.

Kei hid her initial reaction, which was the urge to quell Hayate immediately. Though she often pretended not to know what people were feeling or disregarded it, and being unable to read any chakra from the locals made that problem slightly more genuine, she did have compassion. Shinsō didn’t need an interrogation from Hayate.

But her brother was already on a roll.

“Inoichi-sensei can do something like that,” Hayate said. “He just went like this—” here, Hayate made the hand seal for the Mind-Body Disturbance technique, “—and this guy punched himself in the face. It was really cool!”

Shinsō looked at Kei over Hayate’s shoulder as though to confirm that Hayate wasn’t bullshitting him, and Kei said with a shrug, “His sensei’s whole family can do something similar.”

“And that’s…cool.” Shinsō raised an eyebrow. “Not creepy, or villainous, or dangerous.”

“Of course it’s dangerous.” Hayate shook his head. Counting off with his fingers, he went on, “So is setting fires, being a walking thunderstorm, or almost drowning people. Any type of power is dangerous if you’re an asshole about it. And Inoichi-sensei even gave us this huge talk about that like…last month? There was a lot about ethics.”

Ironic, since shinobi education tended to go light on those. Then again, Hayate’s batch of genin were growing up in a more peaceful era. Maybe that meant something.

“If you’re trying to get Hayate to admit he thinks you might randomly go evil,” Kei said in a mild tone, “even jokingly, it’s not gonna work. Mind control Quirks are really common where we come from. You can do a lot of good with good intentions and strong morals.”

Madara notwithstanding, the Uchiha were a respected noble clan. And, while not as rich or as popularly known, the Yamanaka clan sat proudly among the Konoha elite when they felt like putting on airs.

“Besides, I don’t know you,” Hayate said, “but you don’t feel like a bad person.”

Kei dropped a hand onto her brother’s shoulder and asked in a complete conversational left turn, ”Are you hungry?”

“Uh, sort of?” Hayate kept his eyes on Shinsō, however. “Do you think they have taiyaki?”

“Maybe.” Kei had not exactly made a habit of scouting beaches for snack stands.

“I’ll look!” Hayate said, and ran off.

Kei and Shinsō watched him go. Sooner or later, Hayate would remember that he didn’t have any local money.

“So,” Kei said after a few seconds. “Sorry if that was a lot to dump on you all at once.”

“It’s…It’s different, I guess.” Shinsō grabbed the handlebars of his bike and looked around for a second. “I’m going to park this, but I could…stick around. See what you’re doing for training.”

“All we’re doing right now is getting a mid-morning snack,” Kei said, and the pair of them followed vaguely in Hayate’s wake.

It turned out that, much like parking spaces for cars that had timers and pay meters, Japan also had such spaces for bikes. Kei poked at the strange devices while Shinsō locked his bike in one of the empty slots, paying the fee with a few coins.

“Are you looking forward to the Sports Festival, Shinsō-san?” Kei asked, while she idly pinged for Hayate’s chakra signature. Though she’d seen his reaction to the announcement, and perhaps the aftermath of everyone declaring war on 1-A for whatever reason, she still wanted to hear his answer.

As her brother’s lightning signature lit up further down the street, Kei heard Shinsō respond, “Isn’t it obvious?” When she glanced at him, he went on, “If I win, it’s a chance for me to get into the Hero course. I can’t afford not to win.”

Kei blinked slowly. That was a bit more intense than she’d been expecting.

“What?” Shinsō seemed almost offended that she didn’t have an immediate response.

“Good luck?” Kei tried. “Some of the kids you’re gonna be up against are pretty tough, aren’t they?” Kei was fairly certain Blondie McSplode would be totally okay with blowing up anybody near him, Shinsō included. Hell, his own classmates most definitely included.

“It doesn’t matter,” Shinsō said dismissively. “I know you don’t care about this kind of thing, but…people have been telling me my whole life that I can’t become a hero with a villainous Quirk.” Yes, Kei had rather figured that. But she kept silent so Shinsō could continue with, “But that’s my dream. I’m going to prove them all wrong.”

What, exactly, was she supposed to say to that? “Okay. I mean, you’ve probably got a strategy and I’m sure it works for your Quirk, but do you have a backup plan?”

Shinsō clearly didn’t want to listen to suggestions, but managed to grumble “I’m all ears.”

Kei was game enough for it. “Learn to fight?”

“The Sports Festival is in two weeks,” Shinsō said flatly.

“It takes just a few hours to learn basic self-defense.” She crossed her arms. “If your Quirk doesn’t cut it, that’s all you’ll have left. Do you even know how to throw a punch?”

“Of course I do.”

They continued half-seriously arguing this way for a while, following Hayate’s constant window-shopping more than anything. Apparently, in the months since the beach had been cleaned up, more businesses had cropped up to take advantage of the view than Kei had thought. Most of them didn’t have customers this early, but it was actually better that way. It meant no one really had to hear Kei and Shinsō’s ongoing debate regarding his fighting skills.

Hayate interrupted a round of Kei gesturing empty-handed while trying to explain the principles of punching someone in the face or the throat with, “Hey, what’s the law on Quirks again?”

“I know I’m not supposed to use mine in public,” Kei said, which Hayate accepted without elaboration.

She’d given him a very bare-bones explanation of Quirks and Quirk legislation, but it boiled down to about the same reason non-shinobi weren’t supposed to use chakra-based techniques outside of clan holdings. Hayate understood that, and then spent two hours over one summer weekend cheerfully tossing ideas back and forth with Obito and Kei about what his Quirk could be.

Hayate’s decision, in the end, was based on his chakra sensor ability. Besides being the only person in Konoha who could use their mother’s samurai-trained technique, Hayate didn’t expect to be able to carry a sword here or even to fight. The ability to sense other people’s emotions and intent was good enough for wandering the streets, and it covered neatly for shinobi hyperawareness.

“You can use them for self-defense,” Shinsō put in, when Kei was going to let the subject drop. “Technically, you can defend yourself or others, but just enough to run away.”

“Given the number of heroes running around, that can’t be that bad.” Hayate folded his arms behind his head, content to join them while they walked. “And everyone has cell phones, so contacting somebody would be easy.”

“You’d think,” Shinsō said. “There was a kid…last spring.” Shinsō rubbed the back of his neck, though the expression that crossed his face wasn’t particularly kind. “He got captured by a villain and nobody could get him loose until All Might showed up. Three heroes, and between the kid’s explosion Quirk and the villain possessing him, none of them could do anything besides try to keep people away and put out fires.”  

Kei couldn't help but notice that Hayate’s presence seemed to calm both of them down. Or rather, Kei stopped dominating the conversation and Shinsō had a chance to educate a twelve-year-old. Maybe he liked non-judgmental kids?

“Was that kid the blond jerk from 1-A?” Kei asked, unable to think of anyone else who could create explosions on demand.

“The very same,” Shinsō confirmed. Okay, that was definitely a bitter sort of smirk. “Guess that fancy Quirk didn’t do anything for him.”

Lots of bitterness.

“We might both have to face him in the Sports Festival,” Kei said, while they turned toward a shopping district instead of the beach. “Your strategy’s set, right?”

Shinsō nodded. “Shouldn’t be too hard to piss him off.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to see that while it happens,” Hayate grumbled. To Kei, he said, “You haven’t done an exhibition match since you were eleven. How bad do you really think it’s gonna get?”

Good of Hayate not to mention the Chūnin Exams by name. The death toll was rather higher than would be accepted in a peacetime society. Sure, nobody tended to die in the finals, but the Second Exam was the obstacle course round and fairly unrestrained. Certainly people tried to kill each other, with varying levels of success.

“I’ll be fine,” Kei said.

“I know that,” Hayate griped, as Kei affectionately ruffled his hair. “But are you aiming for the top? Do you have a strategy?”

“Dazzle everyone with my skill,” Kei suggested sarcastically. When Shinsō and Hayate both gave her skeptical looks—disturbingly alike, actually—Kei huffed and said, “Depending on what the events are, I might be able to just use my athletic ability to get past them. But up against people like the explosion kid…yeah, that’d be about when I should bust out my Quirk.”

Kei needed to figure out what mechanism allowed Blondie McSplode to act like a walking minefield. If his Quirk was anything like the half-magic fūinjutsu explosions she favored, countering him would be harder. If he relied on a chemical balance, though…

Shinsō shook his head slowly as they passed a bank. “Are you sure you should be talking about this with me? We’re going to be rivals in the Sports Festival.”

“Whatever.” Kei flapped a hand dismissively. “If we both get that far, then I’ll worry about it.”

“She said the same thing before her last exhibition match,” Hayate said to Shinsō, in a stage whisper. “And then she and one of her friends beat the crap out of each other.”

“It was Gai,” Kei defended herself. “If I wasn’t prepared to use everything I had, I’d lose.”

“Shots below the belt are illegal everywhere else,” Hayate muttered, while Shinsō paled.

“Hey, we both knew there weren’t any rules,” Kei argued.

“What the hell kind of dojo did you two join?” Shinsō demanded incredulously. When both of the Gekkō siblings looked askance at him, he clarified, “Who was your teacher?”

Kei and Hayate exchanged looks. Then, in unison, “Mom.”

Shinsō’s purple gaze flicked rapidly back and forth between them, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “That explains so much.”

At least Shinsō knew now that Kei came by her weirdness honestly. Couldn’t be anything else if Hayate was also affected.

It was at this point that the bank next to them started to rumble.

Hayate’s first instinct was to pause and look at the potential problem, his eyes narrowed and entire body tensed for a fight. So was Shinsō’s, but he was a bit closer to the street in comparison and didn’t have any combat training to fall back on.

Kei grabbed both boys by the backs of their jackets and flung them clear before the front doors shattered.

[askblueberrymuffin]

REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY.

RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog  !  good  luck  !

TAGGED. @vertebralheights sorta? TAGGING. I dunno, do what u want

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Sans Gaster

NICKNAME:  Blueberry, Muffin, Blue

AGE: 23

BIRTHDAY: July 1st, 20XX

ETHNIC GROUP: Skeleton/Shadow Monster

NATIONALITY: Underground??

LANGUAGE(S): English, Wingdings(?)

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Asexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Panromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS:  Forever alone Single

CLASS: Middle class? Maybe upper middle when their mom was around?

HOMETOWN / AREA: Snowdin

CURRENT HOME: Still Snowdin, same house and everything

PROFESSION: Sentry, but he’ll likely pursue higher education soon

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Skeleton?

EYES: Usually cerulean blue.

NOSE:  Nope

FACE:  Boney (har har)

LIPS:  Still skeleton

COMPLEXION: Guess what? Skeleton

WEIGHT:  Like, 9 lbs.

BUILD: Bony boi

FEATURES:  Solid shadow? In skull and ribcage? Also tiny nubby tail

ALLERGIES: Straight up a magic skeleton

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: No?

USUAL FACE LOOK: A bright smile

USUAL CLOTHING: So many sweaters. Too many sweaters. And baggy pants. And cerulean boots. Of course all topped off with his scarf, tied as a bandana.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR(S): His brothers dying, Cake killing himself(again), Cake self harming(more), being abandoned, hurting others, using others, being alone, fire, being burned, the kitchen, ice picks, chisels, sledge hammers, lighters, people getting hurt because of him, people dying because of him-- *SLAPS ROOF OF SANS* THIS BAD BOI CAN FIT SO MANY FEARS and he hides them all so they never get any better, someone help him oh my god--

ASPIRATION(S) : He wants to help others however he can. He also would really like to be come a scientist, but he puts that aside for the former

POSITIVE TRAITS: Excitable, loving, affectionate, intelligent, optimistic, resourceful, adaptable, perseverance, determination, overwhelming kindness and forgiveness

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Depressed, fakes many emotions, fakes many situations, fakes his persona, shoves his own feelings aside constantly, takes all the blame, always takes the fall, forgives instantly, never blames anyone, too trusting, can be absent minded, easily distracted, never honest about his own feelings to other or to himself, won’t tell people when they’re hurting him, will do almost anything you tell him, he’s entirely too codependent, his entire life revolves around his brothers, if you take that away he doesn’t know who he is anymore, he’s content now but if he were to ever not be, that is a very, very steep slope with no coming back. Get this baby a therapist, someone.

ZODIAC: A hecking crab Cancer

TEMPERAMENT: He only gets upset when bad stuff happens to others or they talk bad about themselves. Otherwise you could literally stab him and-- WAIT people literally did torture him and he was not at all upset! Ahhh--

SOUL TYPE(S):  Monster Soul?

ANIMALS:  Probably some kind of dog. He’d be the goodest good boy.

VICE  HABIT(S): He stress bakes and stress cleans. Don’t take that for innocence as he’s tried other things. A lot of other things. But he has 1 HP, hates the choking feel of smoke and can’t get drunk if his life depended on it. ...Perhaps it isn’t so innocent though, looking at all he does.

FAITH: Who needs gods when you’re a massive science nerd

GHOSTS?: Yes?

AFTERLIFE?: He believes there is none. A part of him hopes he is wrong.

REINCARNATION?: He’s a science nerd, he hasn’t put much thought into this stuff.

ALIENS?: He believes with the vastness of the universe, likely? He wants to meet one.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Heavy shrugging? He only wishes the Queen were more open.

ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE: None in particular

SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION: He’s content where things are.

EDUCATION LEVEL: High school. He hopes to change this now that they actually have money--

FAMILY.

FATHER: Wingdings Gaster

MOTHER: D̵̀́͟͜r̶̶̶̛̕.̴̀ ̷̡̨̢P̶̧e̢̡̕n̷̷̨̧u̴̶m̡̛͘͠͠b̧͞͠r̴̷̨͞ą̧̛͘ ̸̨G̴̡͜͜͠a̵͜s̢̀͜t̢e͠҉̕͟r̷͏̢̢̀

SIBLINGS: Papyrus ‘Cake’ Gaster (younger), Papyrus ‘Rex’ (older)

EXTENDED FAMILY: Sakura Shalie (niece), Martin Magnus (nephew)

NAME MEANING(S): I dunno, ask their mom OH WAIT-- (imsorry)

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: His mom was the royal scientist, while his dad killed the human who possessed the soul of integrity. Perhaps in certain timelines caused by a certain human, he may have been more historically important (winkwinknudgenudge)

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Pffff-- Textbooks, old scientific studies, non-fiction, history texts, books on space, really just picture anything nerdy. He loves it. Oh yeah, and sci-fi.

MOVIE: The first Star Wars film, he will fight

5 SONGS: Dollhouse, Sleeping Powder, More Than Words, Squid Melody [Blue Version], Cut My Hair

DEITY: Can I just put Phil Swift here? I’m doing it.

HOLIDAY: Christmas

MONTH:  July. Birthday time!

SEASON: Indifferent. They all seem the same to him.

PLACE: Quiet places no one else can reach

WEATHER: Storms. Rain storms on the surface.

SOUND: Laughter

SCENT(S):  Laundry, baking, cooking

TASTE(S): He loves tomatoes? In juice, sandwiches, food in general? Yeah.

FEEL(S):  Warm, soft, physical contact with other living beings.

ANIMAL(S): He loves dogs? All dogs. So many dogs. He wants to pet them all. All dogs.

NUMBER: 9 now. XD

COLORS: He likes orange and blue. He says his favourite colours are his dad’s eyes. Which sounds adorable tbh--

EXTRA.

TALENTS: He’s a little smarty pants with a good memory. Helpful for science, helpful for reloads. He’s decent at cooking and is much, much to physically strong for his 1 HP?? He also has quite the great handle on his magic. Fighting him isn’t fun, at all. He’s only been fairly beaten once. He’s empathetic, great at reading people and a masterful deceiver. He could be a super villain with his manipulation abilities tbh, but he just hates the idea of using people.

BAD AT:  He acts before he thinks. He switches from topic to topic and overpowers conversation. He’s quick to defend others and gets himself hurt like this more often than not, and mentally he’s an absolute wreck. He can be overbearing and clingy though, especially to those close to him. The more paranoid he becomes, the more annoying he seems in these ways.

HOBBIES: Reading, cooking, cleaning. He’s starting to get back into actual hobbies like reading with Rex around. He used to just not have them.

TROPES:  He is about the best supporting ally and mom friend one can be. His best quality is being able to lift people up high. He however, cannot do this to himself.

AESTHETIC TAGS:  #space , #baking

GPOY  QUOTES: ((I don’t know what this is--))

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC(S): No

ALT FC(S): Nope

OLDER FC(S): Nuh-uh

YOUNGER  FC(S): Nadda

VOICE CLAIM(S): ((I have no idea?? The closest would be Cryaotic but I honestly have no idea the specifics))

GENDERBENT FC(S): Nah

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: if you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?:  If I were to write it??? It would turn into something psychological or horror related. Blue would fit wonderfully in a deconstruction of the human(or i guess skeleton??) mind. Hopefully it’d be about him seeming alright but being an absolute mess and managing to realize there is indeed a problem and work through his issues with friends, family and some professional help. That’d be lovely.

Q2: what would their soundtrack / score sound like?:  He listens to anything catchy, though likes chiptune and electronica. He’d probably make his own soundtrack out of other video game soundtracks though, he’s a doofus.

Q3: why did you start writing this character?: I... Don’t know?? Huh. Guess I did a little bit about... Three years back? I didn’t do a whole lot with him, but that’s around when he met his niece and nephew. Hm.

Q4: what first attracted you to this character?:  Papyrus is my favourite undertale character. Sans is my second favourite. Mash them together and what do you get? A cool science boy! A sad cool science boy that covers his pain with laughter and smiles. Someone help him.

Q5: describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse: He won’t let anyone in, in any way that matters. He’s affectionate to everyone and it would be so easy to use and abuse him. He so strong in some areas and so weak in others. His whole life is his brothers and I’m often lost as to what I should make him do as he doesn’t keep hobbies really due to being busy. He never sleeps, works himself to exhaustion and picks everyone up despite being hurt himself. He thinks he knows what he is but he’s wrong. He thinks he’s fine but he’s not. He denies these problems in himself so hard that even he’s deceived by his act. It’s frustrating in a way even if it is interesting? As a writer I want to break him apart and crush him but as a person I want someone, anyone to finally see through this and HELP him. But no matter the hints I give or things I mention, no one has tried. I suppose he just hides it too well. Ahh...

Q6: what do you have in common with your muse?: Super depressed! Uh-- Ha, put up a mask. Hide pain with jokes. Try to see the silver lining in situations. Loooove space. And science. Psychology’s a huge yes.

Q8: what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?: Citrus is always neat. Rex and him also have an extremely interesting dynamic. Fluff and him are adorable and fun, and I want so much more of them. Sakura’s is hilarious because she’s literally a god in her multiverse and she’s just accepted him as being able to break all laws of space and time

Q9: what gives you inspiration to write your muse?:  The interactions and dynamics he creates with other characters as well as the unique story and plot aspects that can be created!

Q10: how long did this take you to complete?:  At least two hours. Maybe longer. Oh jeez--

[soulstealer1987]

Arc 5, Chapter 11

Ziist Grozein

Everyone escapes from Cidhna Mine. Also, let's be honest, Gallus couldn't put off the Dragonborn thing forever.

Crossposted from AO3. Masterpost is here.

Arc 5: Shadows of the Past

Arc 5, Chapter 10 ~ Arc 5, Chapter 12

When Madanach sends someone to wake them, it’s nearly dusk. Or at least, Gallus is pretty sure of that—it’s impossible to tell for certain in the depths of Cidhna Mine, where the only light comes from lanterns or, occasionally, the faint glow of magic.

(Gallus would think that, considering that the Forsworn are primarily made up of Bretons and Bretons are generally very, very good at magic of all kinds, that the guards would have been a little smarter about preventing magic use. Perhaps they were, initially. But after decades without a breakout, perhaps security became more and more lax.)

Uraccen takes one look at the two of them, casually states that it’s getting late and anytime they’re not busy, they should head out to the main area, and leaves with the ghost of a knowing smile on his face. Evidently, he thinks he knows something about what’s going on here. To be fair, there’s one very obvious reason why a couple of people would fall asleep on each other, and if that’s what Uraccen’s thinking of, it’s not entirely wrong.

“I guess we’d better head out,” Karliah says eventually. “No point in keeping them waiting any longer.”

“Yeah,” Gallus agrees. Even so, neither of them move. In his case, it’s because even after everything, there’s still a tiny seed of doubt within him. He could have dreamed it. He probably dreamed it—after all, he can’t possibly live up to who he was. Not without his memories.

And he has no idea how he can even begin to get those back.

“You’re not getting up,” she notes. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, I just…”

“Gallus. Look at me,” Karliah puts a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath and turns towards her. Their eyes meet, and he holds her gaze. There’s something in her eyes, some deep sadness that finally makes the words come spilling out.

“I’m not the same as I was. I should be, but I’m not. Maybe if I could actually remember something, but I can’t. I can’t—gods, everything’s so familiar, you’re so familiar… I’ve known the whole time that you mean so much to me, and I just can’t remember anything I know I should. But I’m… I’m not the same.”

Gallus is only dimly aware of it at this point, but he’s full on sobbing. He doesn’t know how Karliah’s reacted, and in all honesty, he’s not sure he wants to know.

“No, you’re not,” she says finally. Her arms wrap around him. “But neither am I. And that’s alright. It’s been so long, I’d be worried if either of uswere the same as we were back then. We’ve both changed a lot—shadows, I know I have. Everything’s gone to Oblivion and then some. But there’s one thing I know for sure, and it’s that you’re the same Gallus I fell in love with, memories or no memories.”

Gallus tries to wipe away his tears, but more come. He’s at a loss for words.

“Listen,” she continues, and her grip tightens some. “I love you, Gallus. I love you so, so much. Whatever’s going on, we’ll get through it together, like we always have. I’ve lost you once already—I’m not losing you again.”

His eyes water, although the tears aren’t so much from sadness this time.

“You mean it?” He manages.

“Everything.”

“...you still love me?”

She actually laughs. “Of course I do, you idiot. I know you can’t remember this, but… shadows, it took you a long time to finally tell me what was up the first time. I’m glad it didn’t take you any longer this time.”

It’s almost like a weight’s been lifted off his chest, like he can finally breathe again, except he hadn’t been quite aware that he couldn’t until now. Being close to Karliah has a rightness to it, the kind that makes him feel like things are normal, or at the very least not as screwed up as they were.

Gallus smiles, and says, “Me too.”

“Glad you could join us,” Madanach says as the pair walk out. Much to Gallus’ embarrassment, every denizen of the mine turns to see them: Uraccen, the orc, the lad with the skooma…

Actually, no. There’s someone missing, come to think of it, and that someone’s the someone he’d gotten the shiv from. Gallus suspects he doesn’t want to know what happened to him, so he doesn’t ask.

“Had to work out something,” Gallus offers in way of explanation, without any intention of explaining what that something is. “What did we miss?”

“Only the entire plan, lad. We’re about to head out. Just stay close and stay alive—and this goes for all of you lads. Remember, we’re not here to fight, we’re here to get out as fast as possible and regroup at Druadach.”

The group, sans Gallus, Karliah, and the orc, all nod.

“Borkul,” Madanach continues, addressing the orc, “stay with me or one of the others for now, the sentries won’t know you’re with us otherwise.”

The orc—Borkul, apparently—grumbles, but bobs his head in agreement.

“Gallus, Karliah. Stay with us until we’re out of the city, and from there? Old Gods be with you.”

“And with you,” Karliah says softly. Gallus isn’t entirely sure what or who the ‘Old Gods’ entail, but he nods regardless.

“Let’s go. Moonlight’s a-wasting.”

Getting out of Markarth, as it happens, is simple—almost deceptively so, looking back. The group meets no significant resistance once they’re out of the mine itself, and as for the escape tunnel… well… nobody died, everyone was still able to run, the Dwemer as usual had to make everyone’s lives more difficult millennia after their disappearance. Overall, it went fine, although there were a couple close calls.

From there, it’s on the road to Winterhold. There’s still some awkwardness between them, but much less silence. Karliah can’t seem to stop talking, and whether it’s about the past, the present, or the future, Gallus finds he much prefers anything to the hopeless silence.

Gallus shares some stories of his own, too. He doesn’t exactly have much, but he can guess at what Karliah was around for, what she wasn’t, and what she could only assume. He tells her of the kids at the College, Aranea and Erandur, the Companions…

Eventually, the subject turns to the Thieves Guild, which… is rather inevitable, actually.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to go back?” Gallus finds himself asking.

“Once we get your journal translated. Or, once you remember enough that we can prove it’s you. Seeing as… you didn’t go by your name in Riften, did you?”

“No, I came up with something that… may not have worked as well as I’d have liked,” he winces. “I panicked. When we go back… I’m never living that one down, that’s for sure.”

“There’s no way it could possibly be that bad.”

Gallus laughs, “Trust me, it is.”

“What is it, then?”

“Bad,” he says. “Let’s save it for when we get back. What do you miss about the Guild?”

She shrugs. “A lot of things, but honestly… I miss being able to just walk into places and not have to worry about who’s there, who’s seeing me, who’s going to get word back to Mercer that I was there. It’ll be nice, to not have to constantly have my guard up. I guess… I miss a lot of things about Riften, too. Is Vekel still running the Flagon?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t look like he’s that old.”

“He had the best home-brewed mead. Stopped making it near the end, though—times were getting tough. Maybe we can get him to make it again once we’re back.”

Gallus cracks a grin, and says, “I do still owe you a drink from Helgen.”

He can almost ignore how, despite having just gotten quite a lot of sleep, his head hurts far too much, he can’t focus, he can’t concentrate. Even looking at something for too long makes things difficult, unless he’s distracted. It’s probably a good thing that Karliah’s very distracting.

Even so, he has a bad feeling that something wrong’s here, and it’s not a lack of sleep. There has to be some reason that sleep isn’t helping, because he’s been getting a lot lately. Or, at the very least, he’s been getting a lot more than usual. As the pair trudge on, the College barely visible in the distance, his unfocused stare finds the night sky.

Stars glimmer above them, and for whatever reason, a particular constellation catches his eye. He can’t think of the name. Briefly, he considers asking Karliah about it. He glances her way. She catches his gaze, and smiles.

Naturally, it’s then, and only then, that an earth-shaking roar splits the air, and something big and dark-colored flies overhead. It blots out the stars as it passes, and keeps on in the direction of Winterhold.

“Oh no,” Gallus says unnecessarily.

[riding-alpacas]

Buenos Aires

The first stop of my trip is done and it was a promising start. Vancouver waved goodbye as only Vancouver can: With grey skies and plenty of rain. But a bit more than 24 hours and two stopovers later Argentina welcomed me with bright sunshine on a hot afternoon. Oh how much I missed this. The remainder of my first day turned out to be pretty lousy but in hindsight I blame my extreme fatigue for that (I didn't catch any sleep during the flight).

First thing I wanted to do after I checked in to my hostel was to get some cash and buy some food. The first two ATMs I tried didn't give me any money though. Everything on the screen was in Spanish, so I didn't really understand what the error message was saying. No problem I thought, then I'll pay for my food with my credit card. The first supermarket I went to didn't accept my Visa though and I had to leave confused, hungry and still empty-handed. Fortunately I managed to find one that did - but the process was quite laborious: They had to see my passport and didn't have these fancy electronic machines to transact the payment. I had to sign a receipt instead. This wasn't a surprise to me, I've read about this procedure before. But going through it for the first time when you're basically just buying some bread and butter just changes your perception. I was tired, I was overwhelmed, I just went to bed and hoped things would get better. Luckily they did.

There weren't many people in the hostel, but I managed to find a guy who explained the money situation in Argentina a little bit to me. Skip a few paragraphs if you don't wanna know. First of all, in Argentina cash is king (am I back in Germany?). Also the country is suffering from inflation - a lot. As a result, locals try to save their money in US dollars. All this shemozzle means that a few things are happening:

ATMs regularly run out of money during the day

You can't withdraw more than 4,000 pesos in one transaction (currently equals AUD 100 or 60 EUR)

You can't withdraw more than 8,000 pesos in one day

You are being charged between 300 and 600 pesos for every withdrawal (thankfully my Australian bank rebates these fees)

The government is making it hard for locals to exchange money and there are a lot of limitations in place

On top of that out of the two ATM networks here, one simply won't give me any cash. Ever. I tried many times. So far with the other ATM network my success rate was 50-50. I also found out that quite a few places actually accept credit card payments. You simply need to know where to go. My strategy now is to do little payments in cash and larger payments with credit card and I generally try to stay away from Argentine pesos as much as possible. You feel SO much better once you understand this stuff and can put a strategy in place.

Let's get back to Buenos Aires - the Paris of South America. This is actually true, a lot of buildings look very European and the majority of them look very French to me. The reason for that is quite funny, too: During it's best time (Argentina was the third richest country once), people wanted to differentiate themselves from all the other cities in South America. The rich travelled to Europe on a regular basis and when they came back, they tore down their buildings and decided to replicate all sorts of things they saw in Italy or France.

Teatro Colón

Well, rich humans just do super weird things when they are bored and it's quite apparent here when you dive a little into the history of this city. The most spectacular story I came across was the one about the church Basílica del Santísimo Sacramento. First of all only European material was used to build it. 100%. Every doorknob came all the way across the ocean. Then there is the motivation behind it: Mercedes Castellanos de Anchorena really, really wanted to be noble - nobody in Argentina was noble at that time. So she decided to build this church just across the road from where she was living in a decadent palace. She gave it to the church and ding - the Pope granted her a noble title. But the crazy story doesn't stop there. There was another rich woman called Corina Kavanagh who was the lover of one of Mercedes' brothers. Apparently Mercedes prevented them from getting married. Corina wasn't happy about that and she knew that Mercedes loved to see that church of hers from her balcony. So Corina went and bought the land right in front of the church, decided to put a high apartment building on it and block the view for Mercedes. At that time, this building was also the highest building in South America and became quite an iconic landmark for Buenos Aires. Revenge is a dish best served cold.

A church that makes you noble

I spent three days in total in the capital and it turned out to be the right amount of time. The city is quite big, very modern and I walked most of the time. First I explored San Telmo which is the oldest part of Buenos Aires. Lots of cafes and antique shops can be found on these old cobblestone streets. I also found some nice street art and the narrowest home - not wider than two doors basically. And it’s called La Casa Mínima. Spanish can be quite amusing.

Tiny house - not a new phenomenon

I continued strolling along Plaza de Mayo which is THE city square. On one end you find a big pink building which one might know from a speech held by a person called Madonna Evita.

Casa Rosada

For the rest of the day I decided to walk along a famous shopping street in the quest for one my most important purchase of the whole trip: A new pair of Havaianas. After finding them, I finished the afternoon with my first dulce de leche ice cream. Spoiler: There will be an extra paragraph about the food.

On day two I was mainly exploring Recoleta. This is where the posh people live and it was by far the cleanest area in Buenos Aires. It's also where I picked up the stories above. I learned a lot about the Falklands war, too and it made me hate Margaret Thatcher even more. The whole thing is still an important topic for Argentinians and during elections candidates are still being asked what their position is in regards to the Islas Malvinas. That whole conflict and how it came about left a huge scar in the nation's heart and it's still far from being processed.

I finished the day checking out the famous Recoleta cemetery. It was cruel and impressive at the same time. I'm always amazed when I go to cemeteries outside of Germany, they are usually so different. I think the correct term to use is "monumental cemetery", whilst in Germany "lawn cemeteries" are more common. Similar to what I've seen in Paris and London this cemetery is structured like a little town with street names and stuff. There are impressive monuments everywhere, some in really good shape, others sadly falling apart. Of course I had to go to Evita's grave which is actually quite easy to find - don't let tour operators fool you. Yes, there are cemetery tours up to 2 hours long. Now to the cruel part: I did a little research into how the remains of Evita and the national hero José de San Martín (there are statues of him everywhere) were treated and boy oh boy, humans can be so shitty to each other. Even when they're already dead. Both of them were basically constantly moved around, buried upside down, their coffins put in an angle... and all because they believed in things or did things in their life that other people didn't approve of.

I see dead people

On my last day I went North and explored the neighbourhood of Palermo. Apart from the usual stuff (shopping, restaurants, cafes...) there were also two museum in this area that sounded interesting: The Evita museum and a place called MALBA. The Evita museum obviously gives you a deep insight into Eva Peron's life. Very informative and nicely done. MALBA is an art museum in a pretty cool building. One of the exhibitions was quite interactive and fun.

MALBA

One of the things I missed the most on all three days was water! I have no idea how the citizens of Buenos Aires survive these hot summers without access to a natural body of water. There were some little pools that were totally crowded and even though it looks like the city would be by the sea, it's actually at the mouth of River Plate which is definitely not feasible for swimming as it is super silty.

One of the last things I have to write about is the food. I was looking forward to try the Argentine cuisine and so far I haven't been disappointed at all. In fact, if I continue eating like I did in the last few days I will very soon look like the guy in the illustration. This is the stuff I've tried so far:

Steak My favourite cut so far is called bife de chorizo. They sometimes put egg on it which makes we wonder if the dish then qualifies as breakfast.

Yum!

Pizza The difference to Italian pizza is that Argentinians like to put loads and loads of cheese and olives on their pizza. As a person who usually puts extra cheese on their frozen pizza, I surely won't complain about this.

Empanada Should be renamed to "pockets of gold". Small, fried dough pockets stuffed  with... well... meat! Prepare me a bath of Empanadas and I will swim in it the whole day.

Helado Argentinian ice cream. Coming from a country where I was struggling to find really good ice cream, pretty much every ice cream I had in Buenos Aires so far was a gazillion times better.

Also yum!

Alfajores A type of biscuit: Dulce de leche sandwiched between two crumbly cookies. Not my favourite but still a lot better than bloody Oreos.

Medialunas Like a croissant but a bit smaller and denser. I think I prefer them over croissants because they are less messy.

Mate (the tea) I'm not entirely sure yet what I should think about this drink. It will surely get a separate blog post at some point as it it closely linked to a whole social event with a mate etiquette etc. Stay tuned!

Short version: I think I'm in food heaven and it will be hard to continue with my one or two veggie days a week strategy. There is still a lot more to try and I can't wait to participate in my first Asado.

Tango tango

All in all I would say that I enjoyed my time in Buenos Aires. I felt pretty safe, the weather was great and the food was to die for. It would have been nice to have a few more people in the hostel (on my last day we were down to three) but this will probably change now that I'm on my way to Patagonia where it's peak season. I'll be in cold Ushuaia for a week or so before gradually going up North again.

[ltbroccoli-archive]

Verses (Mobile)

CHILDHOOD baby broccoli

Pre-canon, headcanon based. FC: Liam Aiken & Louis Hynes. Reg is a timid child, growing up in Cleveland. This childhood is not a happy one; Reg’s mother is particular and controlling, his sister is caring but often gone, and his father is completely out of the picture.

STARFLEET ACADEMY seclusive tendencies

Pre-canon. After entering the Academy at age 17, Reg follows the operations track, with a specific focus in general engineering and systems diagnostics. He is a good student, but noted for his tendency to keep to himself.

ENTERPRISE flagship of the federation

TNG canon. Reg is a Systems Diagnostics Engineer aboard the Enterprise D, holding the rank Lieutenant Junior Grade. At first he struggles to fit in, turning to the holodeck to cope and eventually succumbing to full-blown holo-addiction. However, with help from Chief Engineer La Forge and Counselor Troi, Reg recovers from this and slowly but surely finds himself a place aboard as one of the crew’s top engineers. He also participates in some of Dr. Crusher’s theater programs, and is the preferred cat-sitter for Data’s cat Spot.

NTH DEGREE the person i’ve always wanted to be

TNG canon for the episode “The Nth Degree”, subverse of above. After an encounter with a Cytherian probe, Reg’s intelligence, confidence, and artistic abilities have all been vastly increased to far beyond that of a typical human. His personality has also been altered, driving him to integrate himself with the ship’s computer via the holodeck. As the computer, he initiates a deep space jump into unknown space, where the crew meets the Cytherians themselves, who are peaceful. Reg is then returned to normal.

JUPITER STATION the only engineer i trust

Canon, between TNG & VOY. Due to his expertise in holographic technology, Reg is briefly assigned to Jupiter Station to assist Dr. Lewis Zimmerman in the creation of the Emergency Medical Hologram. Though their natures seem direct opposites, Reg and Zimmerman remain friends well after this short assignment. By now, he holds the rank of Lieutenant.

PATHFINDER how lonely that must be

VOY canon. Reg is assigned to the Pathfinder Project on Earth, based in StarFleet’s headquarters in San Francisco. Their main object is to locate and contact the starship Voyager, lost in the Delta Quadrant. Reg has a bold idea to contact the ship, which is turned down; determined, he breaks into the project headquarters and implements his plan anyway, risking his entire career. It is successful, and Reg is able to maintain semi-regular communication with the starship, befrending a good number of the crew.

PROFESSOR no different than the borg queen

VOY post-canon. Years after Pathfinder Project, Reg, now a Commander, returns to StarFleet Academy as a professor. Though he mostly sticks to engineering and astrophysics classes, he enjoys a special class on the Borg co-taught with Admiral Janeway every few years.

MIRROR ( TERRAN EMPIRE ) making an opportunity

Mirror universe, based on the TNG comic series “Mirror Broken”. The great Terran Empire has fallen to the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance… mostly. A handful of ships survive at the edge of Klingon-Cardassian space, gathering their forces and hoping to one day take back what was theirs. After years of serving aboard the I.S.S. Stargazer as an engineer, Reg finally seizes his chance for greater power by assassinating Security Chief Tasha Yar. Now appointed the new Chief of Security, he is part of Picard’s senior staff as they take over the Terran Empire’s newest starship, the I.S.S. Enterprise.

MIRROR ( TERRAN RESISTANCE ) the world turned upside down

Mirror universe, inspired by DS9 canon. Reg’s mother is a Terran collaborator, willing to trade in her own people for a few basic comforts. Growing up, Reg learned very quickly that anxiety and timidity wouldn’t cut it – he had to learn to defend himself. His sister Jax helped him a great deal, teaching him how to fight. At times, the siblings even dare to trust each other.

However, when Jax overhears their mother’s plans to trade Reg into slavery, they take matters into their own hands, killing her in her sleep. After that, they flee to the other side of the quadrant, joining the Terran Resistance. Reg quickly proves his usefulness as an engineer, while Jax struggles to prove anything at all. Finally, she goes alone on a dangerous mission… and never returns. She is presumed dead.

VOYAGER CREWMAN set a course for home

Voyager based AU. After serving aboard the Enterprise E, Reg briefly transfers to the starship Voyager for what is meant to be a three week repair of the ship’s systems. However, it turns into far more than that when Voyager is thrown 70,000 lightyears away into the Delta Quadrant. Now a permanent member of the crew, Reg is in the running for Chief Engineer, losing the position to former Maquis B'Elanna Torres. There are few hard feelings, however, and he does all he can to assist her and be one of her top engineers.

MODERN welcome to the world of tomorrow

AU set vaguely during modern times. Year range is flexible anywhere from the 1960s to present day. Reg’s mother is a very rich lawyer in Cleveland, Ohio; his father is out of the picture, kicked out of the house during his childhood. After going to community college for a few years, Reg moves to a small town to become a mechanic, working for Geordi La Forge. He lives in a tiny, dirty trailer half a mile away from his work, where he has essentially adopted all the stray cats in the area.

HARRY POTTER draco dormiens nunquam titillandus

AU based on the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. A full detailed timeline can be found here. For Reg/Liz specific verse, info on their children can be found here.

As far as Reg knows, he is a perfectly normal human – until Minerva McGonagall shows up at his home one day to explain that he is actually a wizard. All of the random occurrences and accidental cat summonings suddenly make sense. Alicia is determined that her son will not be any part of this nonsense, but finally agrees to let him attend Hogwarts School of Witchdraft and Wizardry, just so he can learn to control his abilities.

Reg’s sister takes him to Diagon Alley, where he gets his school supplies and his first wand, larch wood with unicorn hair core. When he arrives at Hogwarts, he is immediately sorted into Hufflepuff. Though he struggles with his magic at first, he grows stronger and stronger as his confidence increases, until he is one of the most powerful wizards in his class.

During his time at Hogwarts, Reg also discovers that he is not a Muggle-born, as he always believed; his father, whom he has not seen since age seven, is also a wizard, which technically makes Reg a half-blood. It takes several years for Reg to find and reach out to his father, but he eventually does. Both are Hufflepuffs.

After graduating, Reg moves to Hogsmeade, where he works for several years as a magical repairman. He discovers he has a knack for making magic and Muggle technology play along. Eventually, after the Second Wizarding War, he returns to Hogwarts as the new Muggle Studies professor. Several years later, he becomes the new head of Hufflepuff house.

STARGATE chevron one encoded

AU based on the Stargate television series. Can be based on SG-1 and/or Atlantis. Dr. Reginald Barclay is one of several scientists assigned to work at Area 51, studying alien artifacts brought back to Earth as part of the top secret Stargate program. Though he does good work if assigned to something small on his own, he struggles to make himself heard when in collaboration with his colleagues, though he is slowly getting better.

Eventually, he is pulled from Area 51 and sent to Stargate Command itself, where he works under Colonel Samantha Carter. Here, he struggles even more to fit in, as everyone else has quite the reputation and he is just… some nervous new scientist. But he manages to prove his worth.

When crew is being chosen for the Atlantis mission, Reg reluctantly volunteers, despite being terrified of the Stargate. Upon reaching the alien city itself, Reg is surprised to find that he loves it, all the strange spires and endless views of the ocean planet. He is less enthusiastic about his boss, Dr. Rodney McKay, but he tries his best regardless.

THE ORVILLE we have got to get better people

AU based on The Orville television series. Most backstory information is the same as main timeline verses. Lieutenant Reginald Barclay is a recent transfer to the U.S.S. Orville, working in the Engineering department.

POKEMON gotta catch em all

AU based on the Pokemon franchise. Mun is mostly familiar with the first three generations. Throughout all of his childhood, Reg dreams of being a Pokemon master, like most children. However, that is not to be. His mother demands that he find a sensible job, and forget that foolish nonsense. His only Pokemon for many years is a Meowth named Mira, who he found abandoned and injured and took care of. Mira eventually evolves into a beautiful Persian who will not leave her owner’s side.

Reg eventually becomes a mechanic and handyman in Cerulean City, where he makes a decent enough living. His older sister, meanwhile, pursues her dream of becoming a Pokemon trainer, finally settling down near Saffron City. As the years pass, Reg starts amassing a small team of Pokemon: his Persian, Mira; a Glitten with a mangled paw named Wrigley; and a Dragonite named Oscar.

FARSCAPE rattlers in the stomach

AU based on the Farscape television series. Reg is born on a small Sebacean colony near the Uncharted Territories, and he grows up knowing that he may one day be conscripted into Peacekeeper service. When the day finally comes, it’s all he can do not to cry as he is pulled away from his family and forced to live aboard a cold, harsh military vessel.

Soon enough, everyone learns that he simply isn’t suited for a soldier’s lifestyle; he is too hesitant and soft. To everyone else, sending him off to be a tech is a demotion, but for Reg, it’s perfect. It’s work he can actually do, and work that doesn’t require any actual combat. As long as he doesn’t think about what he may be supporting, everything is fine…

WARRIORS may starclan light your path

AU based on the Warriors book series. During a particularly harsh WindClan leaf-bare, two kits are born. Sparrowkit is named for the color of her fur, while Stammerkit is named for the odd way he shakes and trembles. Little did anyone know how accurate Stammerkit’s name would later turn out to be.

As apprentices, Sparrowpaw excels in all areas, particularly fighting, while Stammerpaw struggles with everything. Eventually, he grows into a good hunter, but his fighting skills lack. Sparrowpaw becomes a warrior, called Sparrowsong, before him, much to Stammerpaw’s dismay. After several more moons of hard work, Stammerpaw eventually earns his warrior name as well: Stammertail.

Though not a gifted fighter, and not a good choice for a mentor, Stammertail is fiercely loyal to his Clan and serves them in his own ways. He is an excellent hunter and tracker, and often can be found helping the queens with their kits or helping the medicine cats gather herbs. However, he tends to freeze up during battles, and is often left behind to guard the camp.

REG & D'RORAH daughter of light

With drorah-walks. When an immortal being decides to relive a human childhood to rekindle her connection with humanity, she chooses Reg to be her father. He agrees, and D'rorah Philosophy enters his life as his five-year-old daughter, the result of a weekend on Risa who has just lost her mother. Reg has no memory of making this agreement, fully believing that this child is truly his daughter… until an accident in engineering causes amnesia. When his memories return, so do his memories of what D'rorah truly is. However, he decides to continue, unwilling to leave the child he loves without a father just because he’s afraid.

Reg and D'rorah are inseparable, even when she is grown up and moved out. D'rorah eventually adopts a Cardassian girl from a Bajoran orphanage named Rilla, who Reg loves to spoil rotten. When Reg dies, D'rorah’s memories of who she really is will slowly return, and she will have to live on forever without him…

REG & LIZ kidnapped

With nashforhire. Elizabeth Nash needs to hide from some former business partners. The best way to do that is with a bit of a human shield; she chooses Reg. After kissing him, running through Deep Space 9 with him while under fire, and taking him all the way to the Gamma Quadrant, no one would expect Reg to want anything to do with her ever again. And yet… he does. They slowly become unlikely friends, and then more, until Reg finally asks her on a date. While Reg is still stationed on the Enterprise, he and Liz have a long-distance relationship, seizing every opportunity to see each other that they possibly can. However, even that finally isn’t enough, and Reg transfers to DS9 to live with her and work for Chief O'Brien. Eventually they are married and have four children: Sofia, Oliver, and the twins, Charlotte and Victoria.

RUNAWAYS ( REG & LIZ ) partners in crime

With nashforhire. Reg and Liz have been best friends since they were children. Considering their respective childhoods, there are some days where they are the only good thing in each other’s lives. Eventually, at age sixteen, Liz decides she can’t do it anymore and decides to run away, leaving Earth behind entirely. After some hesitation, Reg agrees to go with her. It isn’t easy, and there are several close calls where StarFleet almost catches them to drag Reg back to his mother. But eventually, they have their own ship, the Nomad, and run their own shipping business together.

REG & AELLA she’s on my mind

With empathicstars. Reg slowly befriends a Betazoid communications officer aboard the Enterprise, Lieutenant Aella Moore. Eventually, he has a fairly serious crush on her, but before he has any chance of asking her out, the away mission from hell happens. The two are accidentally beamed into a warzone, and Reg throws himself in front of a phaser blast to protect Aella. The shot should have killed him. But Aella, trained in her telepathy by Vulcans, initiates a mind meld to keep him alive. The meld has strange effects on both of them, even after their return to the ship, and neither of them quite knows how to move forward…

REG & Q show me the stars

With qisforqaos. Q has always been a nuisance to Reg. Always. That is, until he starts taking a liking to Reg and showing him around the universe… befriending him… and perhaps even more…

REG & MURDOCK oh brother

With drowningvoices. Reg and his twin brother have always done everything together, until StarFleet. That’s when their assignments took them different directions, and while Murdock rose in the ranks, Reg barely made it past Ensign. Then one day, Reg got the news – his brother had been in a horrible accident, and his mind was no longer what it was. Now, Murdock lives full-time in a psychiatric hospital, where Reg visits as often as he can. The two are extremely protective of each other, even still.

REG & ALARA only fools rush in

With flightxless; The Orville AU. Reg and Alara meet during less than ideal circumstances, when they both have been captured and must escape together. A few weeks later, however, Reg transfers aboard the Orville, and upon realizing they are now on the same ship, he works up the courage to ask her out.

OHANA ad augusta per angusta

Group verse, AOS based. Primarily on Discord. After encountering a strange anomaly, Reg has been thrown back to the Enterprise A of an alternate timeline. With almost no chance of getting home, he does what he can to settle into this new life, primarily working with the ship’s prototype holodeck system.