#so here it is in all its sports emotion glory

[kindestofkings]

what came first, the chicken or the dickhead?

[smau]

f1driver!reader x lando norris (eventually, friends to lovers ofc)

authors note: this is so dramatic and for what! sorry to pierre for making you the villian, and lets pretend ferrari isnt as shit as it currently is! lol enjoy, would love to know what you think <333

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo and others

yourusername tough day in the office today, mexico '22 is just not to be I guess. As always a learning curve and we will grow from todays DNF 😞

See you soon Brazil !!

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ynfan1 we are still so proud of you! keep pushing 👍

f1fan this is literally what you get for trying to compete in a MALE sport

f1fan2 fr she's bringing down pierre and the team f1fan3 too emotional for the big leagues ynfan2 stfu you do realise your favourite MALE drivers dnf all the time aswell

alphataurif1 we come back stronger!!

yourusername 👊👊

alex_albon lily is wondering would going for ice cream cheer you up?

yourusername I love her, yes please 🥹 landonorris I'm coming yourusername nuh huh its for us pointless drivers! landonorris come on it was only 2..

f1fan4 lando norizz trying to make it a double date lollll

f1fan5 bro chill these two have been friends since literal birth

alphataurif1

liked by yourusername and others

alphataurif1 the difference 2 weeks can make! our girl yourusername is starting pole position on sunday here in brazil 🔥

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yourusername woohoo roll on sunday!!

ynfan1 go bestie go !

ynfan2 AT moving up💪

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others 

yourusername great work achieved today, the car and track felt good. hopefully we can convert this position into some points to finish of the season on a high, all we need is team work on the track (and for max's alarm to not go off so he misses the race 😀)

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maxverstappen1 why the personal attack

yourusername WHY do you have to win every week, surely you are bored by it by now ... charles_leclerc I agree, maybe take a week off? f1fan2 hahah these two i'm obsessed

landonorris please do well but not TOO well, just stay behind me 👍

yourusername and look at your ass all race? hard pass

ynfan1 that mention of teamwork is a lil suss...

ynfan2 not really?? it is a team sport ynfan1 yeah but do you not find it weird how unfriendly yourusername and pierregasly are, despite them being on the same team? f1fan tbf I have always noticed how forced their videos are together. and they dont even follow each other

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others 

yourusername lollll ruining my career one interview at a time, but at least we hit the clubs looking fire 🔥

p.s. I stand by what I've said I only have apologies for two people 1) my pr manager (who I dont pay enough for this) and 2) charles for linking your name to this hot mess!

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landonorris it's so great being the unproblematic one 😎

yourusername does mcclaren need another golden driver from bristol??? I fear im out of a seat soon .. ynfan1 this is so sad you are way to talented of a driver to be out of a suit

charles_leclerc No worries 😅 Just make sure you buy me dinner next time before dragging me into the chaos. 🍽️🤷‍♂️

yourusername you got it prince of monaco! f1fan2 PLEASE PLEASE DATE ynfan2 ewww no her and lando are so so in love they're just too blind and stupid

danielricciardo absolute legend behaviour mate!!

yourusername learning from the best danny ric 😎

alphataurif1 and yourusername

Liked by landonorris and others

alphataurif1 From grid battles to glory laps! 🏁✨ Our unstoppable driver just clinched her FIRST WIN at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix! 🏆 Watch out, world – she's rewriting the history books and leaving her mark on the track. 🚀🌟

#AlphaQueen #AbuDhabiWinner

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danielricciardo What a race! Big congrats, yourusername. That first win feeling is something else! Enjoy every moment!

alex_albon: absolutely smashed it! huge congratulations on your first win!

carlossainz55 felicidades!!

susie_wolff: breaking barriers and making history! huge congratulations on your first win!

yourusername AHHHHH I CANT BELIEVE IT ! I LOVE YOU TEAM !!

ynfan1 lando where is your congrats you are slippinnn!!

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and others

landonorris I've never been this happy to lose, but it's pretty cool seeing your best friend win in her rookie year. EVEN if she beaten me to it 😞

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yourusername LANDOOOO you are a the bestest friend ever

yourusername would not have gotten here with out you, my partner in crime <3

ynfan1 best friend?? y'all are still so blind

f1fan everytime you call her your best friend you reaffirm the lando NORIZZ name

danielricciardo facts alex_albon facts carlossainz55 facts charles_leclerc facts yukitsunoda0511 facts maxverstappen1 facts landonorris CAN YOU SHUT UP

scuderiaferrari

liked by landonorris and others

scuderiaferrari oh we thought we should just let you know our driver line up for 2023 👀 say hello to the dynamic addition to the Ferrari family, the wonderfully feisty yourusername! get ready for a season full of speed, passion, and fierce competition. Welcome to Maranello! 🇮🇹

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ynfan1 HOLY F*CK

susie_wolff wow congrats yourusername!! wishing you all the best !

yourusername thank you so much susie! your advice the last few weeks has help me so much ! ynfan1 I love when girls support girls 💓

yourusername can't wait to get started! forza ferrari ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc this is going to be incredible! congrats !!

yourusername thank you charles <33 be prepared to be sick of me lol ynfan1 so happy shes got a teammate who acc is a decent guy

ynfan2 LOLLLL I bet pierre is sick

landonorris slayed 💅

yourusername 😂😂 f1fan watch out mr norizz her new teammate is mr steal-your-girl

[qprstobin]

the scenic route

i saw this post by @henderdads yesterday and started CACKLING at the image of eddie trying to hide from steve only to stumble across the rest of his stalkers fan club, so here it is

Ao3 link

--

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be better than this.

He'd had more than his fair share of ill advised crushes over the years. His middle school science teacher, the entirely too-nice-for-the-popular-crowd head cheerleader, the bartender at the Hideout that he sold coke to on more than one occasion. And yet, here he was. Leering after Steve Harrington.

(Crush was maybe too strong of a word - that would imply he felt any positive emotions towards the man other than carnal lust.)

Every day at work, Eddie told himself he would take the shortest path outside for his smoke break, and every day he ended up taking the scenic route.

It was like he couldn't help himself. He'd shove his hands into his pockets, and meander his way passed the food court, trying his hardest to seem natural as his eyes strayed over to the Scoops Ahoy.

And there he was, Harrington in all his post-popularity glory. Eddie wasn't sure whose bright idea it was to put the Scoops employees in sailor suits, but he wanted to shake their hand. Or slash their tires.

The shorts clung to Harrington's thighs, somehow even thicker than they were when he was still playing sports regularly. The little hat was less flattering, causing his signature hair to fall limp beneath it, but that was fine. Eddie had seen his hair in all its glory more than enough to fill in the blanks.

As he got closer, he could see that Harrington was chatting up a female patron - typical of the high school heartthrob. It sent a pulse of jealousy and disgust through him. Harrington looked up at the girl from under his eyelashes, pulling his pink, glossy lips into a smirk.

The things Eddie would do to that mouth with half a chance.

The girl let out a laugh, turning in a whirl of curls as she giggled with her friends. He would've thought that response was a positive one if Harrington hadn't immediately let his head fall forward with a groan. Robin Buckley, the mousy band geek Gareth was infatuated with last year, popped up from the back room with a white board that seemed to be a record of all of his strikeouts.

Harsh.

Seemed even pretty privileged popular kids had trouble wooing fair maidens sometimes. Who would've thought. A feeling of satisfaction curled in his stomach - both at watching Harrington get put in his place and knowing that he was still painfully single.

He didn't let himself examine why that was.

While watching the interaction, Eddie hadn't realized he had been slowing to a stop. Until Buckley looked his way. Panic surged through him and he dove to the left, towards a gathering of potted ferns that should be leafy enough to hide him and his hair.

There was a snag in that plan - someone was already hiding there.

Eddie stumbled, arms pinwheeling as he tried to stop himself from running over three middle schoolers. Several little hands snagged the front of his shirt, keeping him from pitching backwards and falling on his ass.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ-" he cursed as he wobbled to a stop. He clamped his mouth shut, taking in the three children in front of him.

The two nearest to him were barely holding back giggles, one a boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and the other a redheaded girl who looked like she was trying to judge him but couldn't smother her mirth. Another boy with dark skin and a bandana tied around his head was looking embarrassed, crouching as close as possible to the girl as he could.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Eddie asked, unable to help himself.

"Same thing you are," Red replied with a smirk playing at her lips. He blanched.

"What."

"Eye candy," she said. It was clear what - or rather who she was referring to.

Bandana groaned softly, the embarrassment on his face deepening. Bowl Cut started giggling again. A fern was tickling Eddie's ear, and he desperately wanted to melt into the floor like the ice cream on a Scoops Ahoy cone.

Eddie didn't even bother to deny it. "You're like, 10. Aren't you a bit young for crushes?"

Red gave him an unimpressed stare.

"We're about to start high school, man," Bandana said as he wrinkled his nose. Judgment colored his tone.

"You don't look like the type to normally go for preps. So do you really have a leg to stand on?" she added.

Sheesh, the attitude on these kids.

Eddie refused to give her any ground.

"Also, I don't have a crush - I was dragged here against my will," Bandana continued.

"I can't believe my boyfriend is lying to my face like this."

"Steve's basically our babysitter, that's weird."

"I don't know," Bowl Cut piped up for the first time, "I think crushing on your babysitter is pretty normal."

Eddie's head was spinning as he tried to keep up with the back and forth. Steve Harrington was their babysitter? He pinched the inside of his wrist, convinced this whole situation was a bad trip or a surreal weed dream. It made more sense than a couple of toddlers claiming that Harrington babysat them regularly.

"I don't have a crush on him!"

"Then why do you keep asking him to 'shoot hoops' with you?" Red asked, turning her judgmental haze onto her sweating boyfriend.

"You know I'm thinking about trying out for basketball next year," Bandana said with an almost pretentious air. "I need all the practice I can get!"

"I didn't know getting smacked in the face with the ball when Steve takes off his shirt counted as practice," Bowl Cut said, a deceptively sweet smile on his face as he drove a dagger into his friend's back.

"DUDE!"

Bowl Cut and Red shushed him, tiny hands flying to cover Bandana's mouth. Eddie reflexively peeked through the fronds, checking to make sure the object of their well - their object hadn't noticed them.

(He hesitated to call him the object of their lust because the three in front of him were literally babies, but he refused to use the word affection in the same sentence as Harrington. Even if this entire conversation was throwing his carefully crafted view of the man through a loop.)

It was fine, though. Harrington and Buckley were wrapped up in their own world, chatting back and forth. If he had a heart he might even say they looked good together. Eddie's eyes strayed towards Harrington's fingers as he twirled his scooper in his hand.

He wanted to shove them in his mouth-

Not the time.

By the time he tuned back into the infants' conversation, Bandana was sulking. Clearly, he had lost, especially with how smug both Red and Bowl Cut looked. Red had even pulled out a little snack packet that she was triumphantly munching on.

"You brought snacks?" Eddie sputtered out, not sure if he was impressed or put out by the sheer balls on this little girl.

"Uh, yeah? Food court food is expensive," she said like it was a no brainer.

The balls, man.

He kinda wanted to be her when he grew up.

"Let me get this straight, you brought snacks along while you stalk your babysitter?" he asked anyway.

"I get hungry," Red said. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and pulled out another snack pack, throwing it at him. It smacked him in the face, but he managed to catch it before it hit the ground. "You're welcome."

"Thanks?" he replied automatically.

This may as well happen.

She distributed two more snack packs to her friend and her boyfriend, and the three returned to peering at Harrington through the ferns. Eddie just stared at them, once again feeling like he must have fallen into a different universe.

This whole thing was getting to be too much for him. His knees and thighs were starting to ache, and not for any particularly pleasant reason. He didn't want to know how long he had been crouched back here.

He needed to get out of here before he reached his limit. His boss may give him a lot of leeway, but he didn't want to keep pushing his luck hanging out in the food court for the rest of the day, babysitting Steve fucking Harrington's children.

Even if the view was pretty good.

"Well, this has been fun, but I need a smoke," he said finally. The three barely spared him a glance. Figuring that they were done with him, and because he didn't know how to leave well enough alone. "I'll leave you to your... stalking."

"Same time tomorrow?" Bowl Cut asked, turning that shy but cheeky grin onto him, revealing that not only had they done this before, but that they had seen Eddie here before.

Fuck. His face was turning red.

"Don't plan on it," he scoffed. The trio spared him disbelieving glances, but let him rock to his feet and start walking away without another word.

They all knew he'd be taking the scenic route again tomorrow.

[elvenbeard]

10!

10 - Write about your ship helping each other get ready for the day in the morning. Thanks so much for asking!!! 💜 Aaahhh I love this one, literally made art of them getting ready in the morning together before :DD So this is loosely based on this, or rather, a continuation of it on another morning :D

Morning Routine

“C’mon, time to get up,” V said quietly, fingers trailing down Kerry’s spine. Kerry buried his face in the pillow again.

“Just 5 more minutes,” he muttered, the hangover of the previous night heavy in his skull and bones.

“You said that five minutes ago,” V chuckled.

“Mhhh, highly doubt it’s been five minutes.”

Without any warning Kerry received a well-placed smack on his naked ass. He gasped, in surprise more than in pain, even though his skin tingled and felt hot after a couple of seconds. He sat up only just enough to be able to see V’s face, sporting a big shit-eating grin.

“Hey… that’s my fuckin’ job!” he said with played offense after the initial shock had worn off. He tried to get V back, but he was too slow. V had already rolled out of bed and stood in the middle of his apartment now, the morning sun engulfing him in all his naked glory.

“Catch me… if you can,” he lilted to the tune of “Off the Leash”, and before Kerry could do or say anything, V wandered off towards the bathroom, a little swing in his step.

“Fuck,” was all that Kerry managed to whisper, frozen and staring into the empty apartment living room. His head and chest were flooded by too many emotions all at once, he struggled to cope. A few weeks ago, he hadn’t been sure if he was still capable of ever feeling anything at all anymore. And now…

The shower started running, and Kerry could hear V still quietly humming, a tease and an invitation all the same. One he neither wanted to nor would resist any longer.

“Mind if I borrow your eyeliner again?” he asked as they stood in front of the small sink together shortly after, and V grinned as he ran his fingers through his hair to bring it into its usual bold shape.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” he smiled, voice and eyes gentle.

Kerry reached over to where he knew V kept the thin black pencil. It probably cost a mere fraction of the one he had back at his house – brand deal gift, not even something he’d bought himself. But it created the same results and was a little less scratchy even. Or maybe he only imagined it because it was V’s.

Lately, even though he’d been trying to fight the feeling, everything to do with V made his world a little brighter again. Every little thing he did or said, how he touched him, looked at him, even now as their eyes met in the mirror – it scared the shit out of Kerry. How well they clicked and could exist side-by-side in this crammed little bathroom, just as an example, without getting in the other’s way, taking up too much space, after having known the other for less than a month. Their movements matched perfectly, flowing into each other, V’s hand on his waist as he shuffled past him to grab a towel, how he instinctively moved back when Kerry reached for something on the other side of the countertop without having to stop what he was doing.

It scared Kerry how much he liked V, how large of a part of his life he’d become already. Especially because they both knew that it might as well end very suddenly and without a proper chance to say goodbye.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” V asked, as if he knew Kerry’s thoughts were spiraling.

“Nothin’ in particular,” Kerry lied and put the pencil back down, “No, not true, actually… Wonderin’ how you survived here this long without a decent coffeeshop close by.”

V chuckled.

“No, really, a whole fuckin’ Megabuilding, and no Caliente’s?”

“Maybe the license was too expensive for the poor, poor administration,” V shrugged and took a step back as he put a decent amount of hairspray on his head. Kerry leaned back against the sink.

“Maybe it’s just to wear ya down even more,” he said, “Y’know, make you complacent to just keep payin’ your over-priced rent like a good citizen.”

V snickered and put the can of hairspray back down and checked himself out in the mirror once more. Then he leaned onto the sink as well and looked at Kerry.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, but Kerry shook his head.

“Ah, tryin’ to convince yourself, huh? That won’t work,” he laughed. As he tried to pass him by, V held him back briefly by the wrist and pulled him closer, in the most literal way Kerry had ever experienced it stealing a little kiss from him.

“I can be very convincing,” V said, voice low.

“I know,” Kerry replied with a wink and trailed off towards the couch where he’d left his clothes the previous night. He began to put on his pants and looked out of the window.

“That one over there,” he said, nodding to the penthouse visible across the street, “That one’s ‘not so bad’.”

V stepped closer and followed Kerry’s gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, “And also way outta my price range at the moment.”

“At the moment,” Kerry nodded, slipped into his shoes, then grabbed his t-shirt, “Y’know… I got some contacts in real estate. Could get you a good deal, possibly. Or, dunno. Throw in a couple bucks myself if you wanted to... in exchange for occasional visiting rights or somethin’…”

V smiled, but didn’t respond for a moment, and Kerry feared he’d taken it too far, too soon.

“Or, y’know… Dunno, forget it.”

V still didn’t say anything, and Kerry realized now that it wasn’t because of him.

“Oh… tell me, what’s he got to say?”

“You don’t wanna know,” V shook his head and walked over to his closet, pulling out a dark pair of jeans and a purple button-up shirt, proceeding to put on the pants first and the shirt only loosely.

“Oh, now that’s cruel!” Kerry complained, “Say it! I can take it.”

V sighed, looked for some shoes, then slowly back at Kerry.

“Johnny thinks I’m so lucky that I managed to wrap such a generous sugar daddy ‘round my finger,” he said quietly, “And that I should take your offer.”

“Wow…” Kerry was admittedly taken aback for a moment. Johnny still knew just how to push his buttons to rile him up, hurt him. But even more so, that after 50 years of not having to deal with this kind of bullshit that was more hot air than anything, it still worked so well.

“Sorry, I… shouldn’t’ve,” V muttered and began to button up his shirt. Kerry closed the small distance between them, placed his hands on V’s, to stop him first, then continued where he’d left off.

“Can he hear me now?” he asked, and V nodded slowly, watching Kerry’s hands move along the row of buttons. Kerry leaned in closely, could feel V’s heart beat fast against his fingertips as his hands travelled along his chest. His mouth right at V’s ear he whispered: “Jealous, Silverhand?”

V shivered, then giggled and kissed Kerry’s cheek.

“Think that’s gonna shut him up for a while,” V said, and Kerry hoped he was right. He enjoyed their mornings together too much, he wouldn’t let Johnny taint them, no matter how much of a right he had to be frustrated about this whole situation.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Kerry said and took V’s hand, “Gonna treat ya to the best breakfast menu in all of NC.”

“Oh, I’m so lucky indeed,” V mused and squeezed Kerry’s hand tightly as they quickly exited his apartment and rushed to the elevator in the hopes to make it unseen once more.

[spottyissleepwalking]

Hello, sorry to bother you but can I ask a question about the warrior cats disability post you reblogged earlier? And I mean this in good faith, honestly, I want to understand.

I haven't read warrior cats, but just from what was described in the post, it sounds... realistic? Since not everyone bounces back from becoming disabled. For example, a coworker and I (in a labor intensive field) have the same injury to our knee. He, I guess you could say has responded "well" to his injury. He has a higher drive to push past pain, not let it limit what he can do, and is able to work as hard, or harder, than non-disabled coworkers, but he is still absolutely disabled. In his case, he often overworks himself and thus ends up having to take off several days to recover and is on a lot of pain medication, both Rx and self medicated. In the scenario presented in the post, he would def be able to stay in the warrior class. But I didn't respond well to my injury, and don't react well to pain. I fell into a deep deep depression that took almost 8 years to crawl out of. Doing the exact same tasks as he does, I work slower and more carefully, avoiding pain at all costs rather than pushing past/despite pain. I'm slower, not as effective. But I don't need to take time off or frequent breaks to recover, and though it takes a little longer, I do just as much work as he does at the end of the week when accounting for the time he takes to recover. I like to imagine that I've reacted to my injury well, but can't help feeling inadequate and worthless when compared to coworker. Especially on days that we work side by side and he's running quite literal circles around me. And remember, we have the exact same injury with very similar causes and only a few months time difference.

From what I understand of the culture of Warrior cats (which is admittedly very very little) I imagine I'd end up in a healer class as well, even if I wished I could be warrior class. I would give almost anything to work as fast, as effectively, as hard as coworker does. But I can't.

So I guess what I'm asking is, what am I missing from the narrative, as someone who hasn't read warrior cats, that makes a character, who has not returned to their former glory after an injury, a poor representation of disability? As the post stands on its own right now, it just feels like it's kicking disabled people when they're down for not acting like they're still fully abled. Like shaming a paralyzed person for not joining a sport.

I have to assume that it's just poorly worded for anyone outside the fandom, but it really does come of as... well... ableist. Which is what drove me to ask, since making assumptions of ableism is generally kinda shitty, and I am curious about the source material.

I hope I didn't come off aggressive or let my emotions on the subject get carried away here, genuinely sorry if it does come off rude. I promise am asking in good faith because I want to understand from a creative standpoint if the narrative actually handled it poorly, and how-so, to help myself and others potentially avoid making the same artistic mistakes.

Thank you for taking the time to read this wall of text, and again, so sorry for bothering you!

No no!! Not aggressive or rude or anything of the sort :D

I’ll be honest, I didn’t read the full text, but I got the gist of it so I’ll try to answer aptly ^^

The problem with Warriors isn’t that there isn’t disability representation - there is, it’s just. Awful. Why? Because almost every single disabled character, sans THREE, in a series that has thousands of named characters, is FORCED into a role they don’t want - or KILLED. Solely for being disabled, solely for being “different”.

It’s not that they necessarily chose that life for themselves, it’s that it was forced upon them, which is where so many fans (reasonably) draw issue with. Disabled characters are offered the bare minimum in Warriors canon. Either they’re essentially forced to become a doctor, with the trope of “the broken-bodied healing the able-bodied” (which personally unsettled me greatly), or they’re shipped off to the elder’s den, which is a place where cats retire due to old age and are cared for by their Clanmates, usually without ever having the chance to prove themselves, and display both their abilities and weaknesses. They’re just automatically shoved into this corner.

There was a Deaf character, once, in the decades-long span of this book series, that was told he would never become a warrior solely because of his deafness - and then was immediately killed off in a manner that was almost never used again as a device to kill a character.

There was a character who was hit by a car and, as a result, ended up losing the function of one of her back legs. Prior to this, she was training as any other young member of her society would. Immediately after? She became a doctor.

There was a character who became blind due to an outside force, and, despite being the equivalent of maybe a thirty-year-old, immediately retired to the elder’s den.

There was a born blind character who fought to train as a warrior, under a half-blind warrior. He was doing well in his training - until the in-universe religion came down to him and forced him to give up his dreams in order to become a doctor. Granted, his case was a little more complicated and intermingled with plot, but it still stands.

There was a character with anxiety who was a poor hunter, and was pressured to become a doctor because of his lack of skills.

There was a character who was paralyzed, and was dismissed as dead, or “better off dead”, by almost everyone around her - INCLUDING HER OWN FAMILY - except the blind character, who found kinship with her and fought tooth-and-nail to keep her alive and healthy.

And the thing is? These characters are CATS! Cats, who have been documented living alone in the wild with these sort of disabilities and thriving!! Which makes it all the more frustrating to see a narrative built around the appeal of cats, have them have this whole support system and community, and that community actively turn their backs on them.

It’s not about them choosing. It’s about them being forced. Not having any opportunity to grow, or learn, or allow others around them to do the same in regards to them. There’s no acceptance here. In universe, it seems like they’re just shoved into the shadows so the able bodied characters don’t have to look at them or think too hard about them, unless they’re healing their wounds.

The characters themselves are not the poor representation. It’s how the authors have handled them - by shoving them aside, to the shadows, to the dogs. It’s frustrating and disheartening.

[dorkydragon]

Yakuza games kanji info 23

Morning Glory children

The heart of the Dragon.

(This will be a little bit different from the other ones as it contains multiple characters. Saki is included because why not. Please forgive the poorly edited family photo)

- About the morning glory itself (あさがお, ‘asagao’): This plant was very popular during the Edo period. It was initially introduced into Japan as a medicinal plant, but it was later sought for its ephemeral, colorful beauty. Its popularity grew after the plant developed new colors and shapes through natural mutations. The orphanage named after the plant certainly has a healing factor on Kiryu. A peaceful life surrounded by nature and his beloved children is what he deserves after all the pain he's suffered. Unfortunately, later games would show that this happiness, like the morning glory's flower, is only temporary.

Now, let’s see the kids:

Ayako (綾子)

綾 aya = design, figured cloth, twill

子 ko = child

- Twill is a durable and versatile type of fabric used to make a great variety of high quality clothes. This is quite fitting for the ever dependable second eldest child, the one who works with Haruka and Kiryu to help everyone else with various tasks. We could say that Ayako, who acts like a mother to the others, is like a protective and warm 'cloth' that wraps itself around the other children.

Taichi (太一)

太 ta = plump, thick, big around

一 ichi = one

- The kanji 太 in his name could be related to his heavy build, which should come in handy to achieve his dream of becoming a professional wrestler to provide for his family. The kanji 一 could be related to his status as the oldest boy in the orphanage.

Koji (宏次, Kōji)

宏 ko (kou, kō) = wide, large

次 ji = next, order, sequence

- His name could be related to how he tries to share the sport he loves with others. Koji's event shows him welcoming and encouraging a lonely boy to play baseball with the rest of the kids. Subsequent games show that Mitsuo, who learnt how to play the sport from Koji, ends up being the more skilled player out of the two.

Mitsuo (三雄)

三 mitsu = three

雄 o = masculine, male, hero, leader, superiority, excellence

- The kanji 三 could be related to his status as the third oldest boy. The kanji 雄 and its meaning of 'hero' definitely appear when Mitsuo confronts the children that were cruel to Riona and later comforts her.

Riona (理緒奈)

理 ri = logic, arrangement, reason, justice, truth

緒 o = thong, beginning, inception, end, cord, strap, mental or emotional state

奈 na = Nara, what?

- Here we have many meanings that could relate to Riona, her family history and her event. Riona feels very insecure about herself because of the burn marks she has on her arms. She refuses to let anyone see them, as she believes people will consider the scars, and thus Riona herself, disgusting. It is most likely that Mitsuo's heroic rescue and kindness helped her realize that the people who really matter are the ones who accept her and love her for who she is, regardless of how she looks like.

Eri (エリ, 絵里)

絵 e = picture, drawing, painting, sketch

里 ri = village, parent's home, league

- The kanji 里 gives us the meanings 'village' and 'parent's home,' which convey the idea of a small community and a place where you feel welcome. During her personal event, Eri explains that she stole Ayako's money to hang out with her friends, who never invite her to join them because they know her allowance is small and she can't afford to ask for more. She is so happy to be invited for the first time that she resorts to stealing just to be able to finally hang out with them.

Note: Eri's name is originally written in katakana, but it appears written in kanji in the orphanage's chores board (source: Yakuza Wiki). Katakana and hiragana are forms of syllabic writing, composed of sounds that make up words or expressions and indicate how to read kanji. Characters from both systems, besides kanji, are accepted forms to write names. Hiragana includes all the sounds/syllables used in Japanese words. Katakana has many uses, but it appears mostly in foreign words that are made up of sounds that are different from the ones heard in Japanese. Other uses include animal names (like マメ 'Mame'), onomatopoeias or word emphasis, among others.

On a similar note, the other important Eri, Eri Kamataki from Yakuza: Like a Dragon, has her name written in hiragana (鎌滝 えり, Kamataki Eri). This Eri, however, is based on an actual person, so here we have a real life example of a name written in syllables.

Shiro (志郎, Shirō)

志 shi = intention, plan, resolve, aspire, motive, hopes, shilling

郎 ro (rou, rō) = son

-  The kanji 志 could be related to his determination to endure the bullying in order to protect the orphanage and to his resolve to stand up for himself and face the bully that threatened his family's home once Kiryu assures him that Morning Glory won't be targeted if Shiro fights back.

Izumi (泉)

泉 izumi = spring, fountain

- She is the only Morning Glory child with a nature-related name and also the one who is interested in dogs. A 'spring' is a natural source of water that may form streams or lakes and support the animals and plants living around it. Our Izumi may not be a source of water, but she is the reason why the beloved pet Mame joined the family.

Saki (咲)

咲 saki = blossom, bloom

- Poor Saki is a gentle and shy flower who endured a horrible and traumatic childhood that left her mute and seemingly unreachable. Her bond of mutual love with her adoptive father and the friends she finds in Morning Glory finally allow her to break out of her shell, recover her voice and bloom.  

Extra: There almost exists a number theme with the boys and their ages. Taichi and Mitsuo have kanji for numbers in their names, and these may reflect that they are the first and third oldest boys, respectively. Koji (second oldest) and Shiro (fourth and youngest) do not follow this pattern. However, the pronunciation of some of the kanji they do have is similar to the pronunciation of the kanji for numbers 2 and 4. The kanji 二 means 'two' and can be read as 'ji,' and the kanji 四 means 'four' and can be read as 'shi.' As examples, we have Joji Kazama (風間 譲二, Kazama Jōji) and Seishiro Munakata (宗像 征四郎, Munakata Seishirō). We could say that Koji and Shiro sort of continue the pattern, at least when it comes to pronunciation.

[icccricketschedule24]

Cricket's Double Delight: IPL 2024 and World Cup 2024 Set to Thrill Fans

Get ready for a cricketing carnival like never before as two of the biggest spectacles in the sport, IPL 2024 and World Cup 2024, converge to captivate fans worldwide. From the electrifying action of T20 cricket to the prestige of the pinnacle tournament, cricket enthusiasts are in for a treat as the stage is set for a season of unmissable moments and unforgettable matches. Let's dive into the heart of the excitement and explore what's in store for fans as they gear up for a cricketing extravaganza of epic proportions.

IPL 2024: The Glitz, Glamour, and Unpredictable Drama

First up on the cricketing calendar is the Indian Premier League (IPL) 2024, a tournament that needs no introduction. Renowned for its high-octane clashes and nail-biting finishes, the IPL is a melting pot of talent from across the globe, where cricketing superstars and emerging talents alike come together to showcase their skills and entertain fans.

From the explosive batting of Virat Kohli to the mesmerizing spin of Rashid Khan, IPL 2024 promises to deliver a rollercoaster ride of emotions, where every match is a spectacle in its own right. Whether you're cheering from the stands, following the action on TV, or participating in fantasy cricket leagues, get ready to be swept away by the glitz, glamour, and unpredictable drama of the IPL.

World Cup 2024: The Ultimate Test of Cricketing Greatness

As the dust settles on the IPL frenzy, cricket fever will reach its zenith with the highly anticipated World Cup 2024. Held once every four years, the World Cup is the pinnacle of cricketing excellence, where nations vie for supremacy and players etch their names into the annals of history.

With the world's best cricketers converging on the grand stage, prepare yourself for a showcase of cricketing brilliance at its finest. From the thunderous roar of the crowd to the nerves of steel displayed by players under pressure, World Cup 2024 promises to deliver a spectacle like no other, where every match is a testament to the beauty and drama of the sport.

Fantasy Cricket Fever: Unleash Your Cricketing Genius

For fantasy cricket enthusiasts, IPL 2024 and World Cup 2024 offer a golden opportunity to test your cricketing knowledge and strategic acumen against fellow fans from around the world. Whether you're assembling your dream XI for an IPL clash or predicting the outcome of a crucial World Cup encounter, fantasy cricket puts you in the driver's seat, allowing you to lead your team to victory and glory.

With expert analysis, insider tips, and real-time updates at your fingertips, dive into the world of fantasy cricket and experience the thrill of competing against the best. Whether you're a seasoned veteran or a newcomer to the world of fantasy sports, IPL 2024 and World Cup 2024 promise endless excitement, challenges, and rewards for all who dare to participate.

As IPL 2024 and World Cup 2024 unfold, cricket lovers around the world are gearing up for a season of unparalleled excitement, drama, and spectacle. Whether you're a die-hard fan cheering from the stands, following the action on TV, or participating in fantasy cricket leagues, let's come together to celebrate the spirit of the game and revel in the joy and passion that cricket brings.

So buckle up, brace yourselves, and get ready to embark on a cricketing journey filled with unforgettable moments and cricketing magic. With IPL 2024 and World Cup 2024 promising thrills, spills, and everything in between, the stage is set for a cricketing extravaganza that will live on in our hearts and memories for years to come. Let the games begin!

Click here to know more

[apexart-journal]

Mvelo Mahlangu in NYC, Day 18

This morning, I woke up, checked out at 11 am and luckily because I packed light, just carried my backpack with me everywhere. Today I was going to the National Mall and doing a self guided tour. Seeing the Capitol building in the distance, I realised that time felt different here unlike NY. Walking 30 min in NY for me feels like 15 minutes. But 30 min in DC feels like 40 min. I took the bus down to the national mall and started off on my tour. Before following starting the guide given to me online, I made a stop at the National Museum of the American Indian. I intentionally made this stop because I had never seen or interacted with anything on native Americans expect for online. At school and through the years, I’ve always learnt so much about the construction and colonial occupation of the US but never formally learnt much on the indigenous people and life before. To say the least, I walked out of there feeling extremely emotional. Extremely emotional and frustrated. I absolutely hate the idea that the progress of a lot of our societies to what it is today meant the culling and exploitation of indigenous people, indigenous customs and indigenous knowledge. And I say this as an African. But alas, let me not open those can of worms. 

My next stop was the Smithsonian National museum of Natural History. I was so excited to see fossils. But when I got there, it was packed to the brim. I experienced complete sensory overload as I tried walking through the building and marvelling over preserved remains of history while also keeping an eye out for time as I still had to make a bunch of different stops which were walks away. I could only stay inside for about 30 minutes. I then made my way to the National Museum of African History and Culture. It made me so happy seeing a structure dedicated to preserving archives on black culture from sports, to music, to art and film/performance. Again, I was quite overwhelmed by everything I wanted to see but also keeping an eye out for time. Walking to see everything had cut out so much time. I moved onto my next stop which was the Washington memorial park. At this point, my face and fingers were frozen. The thing I realised with DC or at least this particular region in the Capitol Hill was that, since there were no tall buildings and just flat land, the wind was brutal. That mixed in with the temperature and sho, I was going through it. Seeing the memorial tower was incredible though because I had only seen it in cartoons and films. And there it was, in all its glory in front of my eyes. I then made my way to the Martin Luther King  memorial which was so beautiful. From the stone carving to the lake. It looked so peaceful. I sadly couldn’t say long because of time and had to make my way to the Lincoln memorial. With my times, I was running about an hour over time. Making it to the m emorial, I could only stand there for about 5 minutes, because there were so many people. Looking aback at the view from the Lincoln memorial was incredible. I then made my way over to my last stop on the self guided tour at the Vietnam memorial, which was constructed beautifully. There was definitely a sombre atmosphere around as I could see there were people who were placing photos and flowers in front of some names, obviously for people they knew.  I then made my way to the nearest bus stop, waiting for it to pick me up and take me back to Union Station for my bus out of DC. I was in a little bit of a panic with time because the bus was not coming, I was cold, and also extremely hungry because in the rush of walking around, I forgot to sit down and have lunch. Since the bus was not coming, and there was a problem with my uber app, I had to walk to Union Station which was an hour away from where I was. Once I got to the station, I finally got something to eat and drink and reflected on the days events. 

While I enjoyed parts of my experience, I felt a bit disappointed at how my day turned out. In a place surrounded by so much history, knowledge, art, and things I’ve never seen before, I barely felt as though I got to truly experience any of it. And I say this without the intention of sounding ungrateful. This put into question the agency I have over my own experience within this program. Do I try doing everything on the calendar to say that I did it? Or do I immerse myself into an experience as best as I can to say that I understand it? Or rather how do I balance the both? It’s hard for me to say because to be in a new environment, all I want to do is see everything and do everything so i'll push myself knowing that I might not get another chance anytime soon. But then at what cost?

I finally got onto the bus and this time, someone sat next to me. I tried sleeping for the first hour of the bus ride, but was too uncomfortable, so could not sleep at all. The person sitting next to me, Rishard, started talking to me and we immediately hit it off! We spoke the entire way from Baltimore to NYC, 4 hours straight. He told me about his background growing up half Jamaican and half Nigerian, his reconnection to his Nigerian identity, growing up in NY but then working in DC, his career successes and extensive travels. It was so refreshing speaking to a young, Black, Queer and Successful individual working their way through the corporate construction and banking world. Of the many things we spoke about, we spoke about the politics of America, and I was shocked again at just how intense the cost of living has become. We spoke about Roe v. Wade and overall voting in the upcoming elections for both South Africa and America. One last thing we spoke about was him encouraging me to come back to DC. We arrived back in NYC almost an hour after the scheduled time, and rode part of the subway together. I got off first, and got to the apartment at 1:30am feeling so happy that I was back. Over the last couple weeks, this apartment has felt so homely and also been such a comforting space that I’ve been happy to return to everyday. 

I couldn’t sleep properly from body chills and could only get to sleep at 4:00am.

[e-devotion]

God’s peace guards us

We have been looking at Philippians 4:6-7 the last two weeks, and I do want to say THANK YOU for allowing me to share sporadically.  We will be back on schedule beginning the end of this week.

So many things stick out to me in the verses we are talking about.  During these two weeks we have talked about peace, being thankful, praying about everything and not worrying.  Today we will talk about how God’s peace guards us.

gave me as a Bible promise over 30 years ago.  I have quoted these so many times.  Here we go…

Philippians 4:6-7 NLT  

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. 7 Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

I love these verses.  I had the opportunity to share with a waiter a few days ago that asked us to pray for him to have God’s peace.  These verses are like a “well oiled machine” when it comes to living by faith.  Taking steps of faith like these will guide us deeper and to be stronger.  That is why today we examine how… 

His peace will guard you hearts and minds.

Did you notice that last phrase?  The one I didn’t quote.  It says “as you live in Christ Jesus.”  That is important.

Apart from Christ there is no peace.  With Christ there is extreme peace.  Almost like an extreme sport or something that has taken on super powers.  God’s peace does things in us, through us and for us that nothing else can.

God’s peace guards our hearts.  That is the place where salvation starts and where convincing comes strongest for people of faith.  It is from our heart we speak.  It is from our heart that the greatest decisions happen.  It is in our heart of hearts where we live and breathe and move with God.  Therefore, that is why we need God to guard our hearts.

Then move to how God’s peace guards our minds.  It is the mind where our emotions are found as well as the mind is the gateway to the heart.  What we play with, think about and let roll through our minds is what finds its way in to our hearts, our character and so deep in our lives.

God’s peace comes out when the world is at its worst.  God’s peace is what keeps us when all else is coming unraveled.  God’s peace is what drives us to live by faith and trust Christ in every moment, dark or light, high or low, depressed, stressed and in success.  We need that kind of peace in our lives.

I choose peace.  Therefore, I choose Jesus.

May we find ourselves kicking worry away as we pray about everything finding ourselves more thankful than ever before.  It will be at that moment where living and abiding in Christ makes His peace come alive in our lives.

John 15:7-8  NLT  

But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted! 8 When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father.

May we literally and daily experience the peace of God guarding our hearts and minds!

I trust you have enjoyed our trip through Philippians 4:6-7.  Stick with me as we continue following Jesus through e-devotions.

[welllpthisishappening]

We’re watching the Blues white vs blue scrimmage and I’m so excited hockey is almost back! I think this calls for a Blue Line re-read because it’s so, SO good and I’ve read through everything on ao3 at least 5 times. 💙

This makes me the absolute happiest! Thank you for reading! And then reading again! I am unreasonably excited about the start of the season and the length of Chris Kreider’s hair and I was going to post a quick Blue Line one-shot here, but it was basically just original characters in that it was literally just Matt Jones being an idiot while meeting his future wife, so I wrote something else this morning and winning the Stanley Cup would mean they’d have to change their before-the-season starts ritual. Anyway, here’s like nearly 4K of everyone ragging on each other just before the season after Blue Line, while Emma and Killian try to figure out where they can make out without anyone noticing: 

————

“Still looking?” “Yup.” “What she look like?” “Like the actual description of her face?” 

Something dug into the bottom of Emma’s shoulder blade, and it took her far too long to realize that it was the jut of Killian’s chin because even the idea of Killian crouching behind her so as to avoid the overall force of Regina’s glare was something that hadn’t even crossed her mind. Until it was happening, apparently. “She’s staring,” Emma muttered, “got that little pinch between her eyebrows that always shows up when she’s—” Killian groaned. Directly where his mouth was resting, which was also on Emma’s back and likely just above the ‘o’ in his last name, if her knowledge of the jersey she was wearing was any indication. Maybe in between the ‘j’ and the ‘o,’ actually. 

“You’re ridiculous.” “Me?” Killian countered, and Emma wished she hadn’t already finished that first glass of wine. Blurry thoughts bounced across her sleep-deprived brain because there was only one more sleep ‘til Christmas, or whatever Kermit sang in The Muppet Christmas Carol. Presumably Christmas. And not hockey. Or the start of the hockey season. 

Splotches of ink still dotted the sides of Emma’s right hand, the product of dragging that same hand over forms she had to sign and other plans she had to approve, and the blue carpet wasn’t coming until next week because the home opener was actually three games into the season, which was not as comforting or stress-reducing as she thought it should have been and she simply did not have time to mitigate an argument between her boyfriend and his agent. 

Even when that boyfriend was very good looking. 

In his Christmas sweater. 

The traditions of hockey players continued to boggle the mind. Emma’s, specifically. 

If she drank any more wine, she was going to fall asleep standing up. “Yes,” Emma said, “you, but only because you’re the one currently trying to burrow your way into me. With your chin.” Humming in confusion, he lifted his head, and that wasn’t really a mistake, per se — but it did leave his soft exhale brushing against the side of Emma’s neck, and that sort of guaranteed that goosebumps appeared on her neck and she should have been more annoyed. By Killian’s immediate laugh. Of the vaguely victorious variety. 

“What do you think about the sweater?” “That you’re fishing for compliments.” “I think I make Locksley’s stitched-on face look very good. Doesn’t get stretched out at all—” Killian ignored Emma’s groan, pressing a kiss to the exact spot her shoulder met her still goosebump-covered neck, and it was the wine’s fault. For the state of her increasingly wobbly knees. “—Which is more than I can say about his current face.” “Oh, that’s rude,” Emma argued. “And I’m not entirely sure it even made sense.” “Are you Locksley’s self-appointed defender, then?” “Are you the single most superstitious player in the entire National Hockey League?” That kiss came with a graze of his teeth and a noise Emma immediately regretted making. Something like a squeak bubbled out of her, flinching in the sort of way that only ensured she was even closer to Killian, and stepping on one of his toes would have detracted from the overall romance of the moment. 

“You can’t do that sort of thing in public, Swan,” Killian chided, and he really did have very good reflexes. Spinning her, Emma’s hands flew to his chest — pointedly ignoring the stitched-on face of Robin Locksley — and he didn’t move. Didn’t stumble or come anywhere close to falling. Just arched his left eyebrow and had the gall to smirk at her like they weren’t in a restaurant filled with their friends and teammates and—

“I’m not taking the shirt off, Gina,” Killian yelled over Emma’s head, “so you can stop whatever you’re doing with your face.” “Trying to turn you to stone,” Emma mumbled.

“Last I checked, she’s not a Greek myth.” “Far as you know.” He moved. Shook really, once his laugh started to echo between Emma’s ears, and they definitely had more pillows in their house than blankets, but the sound of Killian’s obvious and consistent joy was oddly similar to the softest piece of fabric Emma could imagine. Like it was capable of wrapping around her, warm without being suffocating, just this steady presence that didn’t weigh down on her and made everything feel like—

Home, she supposed. 

She was so happy; she was positive it simply poured out of her at this point. And the sweater really did not look half bad. Fit very well, at least. 

“This worked last year,” Will called, shuffling between Roland and Henry. Several wads of napkins littered the floor by their feet, a makeshift hockey game that, as far as Emma could figure, had ever-evolving rules and a tendency to knock chairs over. Roland’s jersey wasn’t quite as long as last year, the hem stopping well before his knees. 

Henry still had a twenty on his back. 

“Still looks ridiculous,” Regina countered. Her wine glass was also empty, sitting closer to Robin’s chair than she had been ten minutes earlier. “Do you think you should send them an email?” Killian’s eyebrow dropped. Pulled low in perfect tandem with the other one, Emma’s head tilting with her own sense of confusion. 

Something slammed rather loudly into one of the walls. Eric might have been doing shots behind the bar.

“What?” “An email,” Regina repeated, “to whatever website makes that monstrosity, so you can let them know that they should get more creative and offer more wardrobe choices to—” “—Idiots?” Robin quipped. 

“Professional hockey players.” Ariel clicked her tongue, ignoring her husband’s objections when she jumped onto the edge of the counter. Only a matter of time until several kids tried to follow suit. “Is your husband not a professional hockey player, Gina?” “Yes.” “Oh, that was far less of an argument than I expected,” David mumbled, stepping next to Emma, and he couldn’t quite bump her shoulder when she was still standing so close to Killian. “And kinda rude,” Will added, “all things considered.”

Regina shrugged. “I cannot possibly overstate how much I hate that sweater.” “Take it up with Banana,” Killian said. “Her gift; makes it her problem. All I am doing is—” “—Wearing it?” “And wearing it well,” he promised. If Emma’s cheeks turned red, no one mentioned it. Which might have been one of the nicer things anyone on this team had ever done for her. “Plus,” Killian continued, “Scarlet’s right. This worked last year. If you want to risk tradition and potential—” A chorus of jeers greeted his near-jinx, complete with pointed fingers and one of Ariel’s legs kicking out like she had any chance of actually reaching Killian. Or wouldn’t be annoyed by whatever harm she could possibly inflict on his upper thigh. 

Regina looked very pleased. “This does not mean you won, Gina,” Killian said, but she only shrugged again, and the first blast of Arthur’s whistle was as shrill as any sound had rights to be. 

More cries bounced off the walls and the balled-up napkins, Arthur’s hand resting on Gwen’s shoulder because at some point in the twelve seconds between the first whistle blast and everyone regaining their ability to hear; he must have decided that standing on a chair was actually a good idea.

Killian’s entire body shook behind Emma’s. 

Getting rid of the goosebumps would be something of a rather large miracle. Especially if he kept his arm around her waist like this, fingers splayed over her stomach. 

“Are we ready yet?” Arthur barked, only to be met with murmurs and more confusion, and Emma didn’t think much before accepting the glass Mary Margaret was practically shoving into her hand. 

“Is there a reason for the collective?” Robin asked. “Did you mean to include yourself in that? Are you not ready for your own speech?”

Arthur was not as good at glaring as Regina. No one mentioned that. No one had to, really. He took a deep breath before he started. “Day before the opener. We know what we did last year, and I want to be the first to tell every single one of you that I don’t give a flying fuck—” Another round of loud objections rang out around him, Arthur not quite able to wave them off because his balance really was awful, and Killian had to let go of Emma to haul Roland up his side. “—Anyone asks you about last year,” Arthur pressed, entirely unperturbed by the frustration of his team and their assorted families, “and you better tell them you don’t give’a shit about it.”

Emma tried to cover one of Roland’s ears. The other one was pressed against Killian, so she couldn’t really do anything about that. “Does he think you haven’t been quoted—like, all off-season?” “The ultimate idiot,” Killian grinned. 

“Is this over yet?” Will demanded. “I’d like to know when I can boo without threat of interruption.”

Belle kissed his cheek. 

While Ruby mumbled curses under her breath, all too aware of just how many people had asked about the Cup run and would keep asking about the Cup run and her job was not going to get any easier if the professional hockey players in that restaurant refused to answer questions all season.

“Nothing that happened last year means anything this year,” Arthur said, but it was starting to sound a bit like a proclamation or maybe an affirmation, and Emma was terrible at yoga. Never had enough patience for it. “So we are playing for something brand-new, and you better not start by screwing it all up on Thursday.” He nodded once. Glanced around because Emma knew he was waiting for some sort of reaction, but the only reaction he got was Will’s promised boo, and that was more than Arthur deserved. Especially when he knocked over the chair while getting down. 

“Tell me he’ll be better with fans,” Emma said, and Killian had to shift Roland, but then he was the one doing the cheek kissing, and the quiet guarantee of absolutely, love was nice until he added—

“Can totally beat him up if he’s not.” “You’re a violent guy, Cap.”

Nosing at the side of her jaw did not impress Roland at all. Fair, really — but then Roland was on the same counter as Ariel, her sliding down the makeshift wood to get an arm around him and her phone already out and ringing, and Will stopped boo’ing. 

To announce, in no uncertain terms, “It’s time! Leader better not screw things up, or I’ll walk to Colorado and kick him in the shins.”

“What a threat.” Robin groaned, but his phone was making noise too, and neither Elsa nor Liam were doing a very good job of sharing space in the frame. Anna was waving with both her hands, already talking a mile a minute with her sister and they were all wearing team-branded merchandise, as the ritual dictated, but this also felt like the first legitimate time Emma was part of the ritual and all three Vankald and/or Jones faces beamed when they noticed her. 

“A,” Will sighed, “you’re supposed to tell us before the taxi squad gets on the call. Then we can prepare and we don’t have to go through this every year.” Anna’s eyes noticeably thinned. “What is this, exactly?” “The gossip wheel you’ve got to run through before we can—” “—Emma’s wearing KJ’s number again!” “We live together Banana,” Killian reasoned, and the jump in Emma’s stomach was undeniable and even more uncalled for. She also hoped she didn’t mess up the ritual. 

“Still.” “Expand on that for me.” Will might have snarled. “We do not have time for this.”

“Are you an actual adult participating in this situation?” Ariel challenged. “Because I am not getting that right now.” Careful to stay out of Regina’s eye line and certain that Roland was at least momentarily distracted by another plate of onion rings, both of Will’s hands moved when he flashed specific fingers. Ariel nearly fell off the counter, she laughed so hard. 

Elsa and Anna were absolutely having their own conversation. 

And Killian kissed Emma’s hair that time. 

“Also,” Elsa added, “should we be collectively annoyed by the taxi squad marker? That’s kind of—” Her voice dropped “A dick move, right?” “You’re a picture of parental responsibility, El,” Killian said. “Buy new clothes.” “See,” Regina cried, arms thrust nearly above her head in what wasn’t quite celebration but might have simply been her innate desire to be right at all times. “Liam, you’re going to have to say something different now, you realize that?” None of them had, quite clearly. Soft gasps and quiet oh’s echoed around their spot at the end of the bar, but Liam’s chin was doing something as well. So maybe it was just genetic. Jutting out, the confidence practically dripped off him, which would have been a disgusting thought in any other situation, but there was something to be said for constants and stability, and not one of them had so much as thought the phrase back to back all offseason. 

“Your lack of belief is disappointing, Gina.” “I’m just covering our bases.” “Wrong sport,” Liam laughed, grabbing the stick that had been leaning just out of frame and it took some finagling to hold it out in front of him. Without also knocking the phone over. He nearly knocked the phone over three different times. 

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright,” Liam started, and Emma didn’t think she imagined the way Killian stood up a bit straighter. Robin and Will, too. “Wait, wait, shit, sorry Rol—no, but how many years is this?” “Oh my God,” Ariel grumbled. “This is kind of messing it up.” “Leader, do you not know how to do math?” Will shouted, grabbing more than one of Roland’s onion rings. Like he needed something to occupy his hands with. 

Blotches of color appeared on Liam’s face, Elsa’s head shaking back and forth now while several different grown adults tried to do the most basic math problem, and no one else heard Killian at first. Emma did. Presumably, because she was almost standing on his sneakers. 

His arm was back around her waist. “Nine years,” he repeated. 

Liam hummed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s right.” “I know it is.” Nothing about those words was enough to immediately catch Emma short, but the fingers pressed against her might have started pulling on her shirt ever so slightly and whatever look Elsa and Anna shared as soon as she circled her arms around Killian’s middle wasn’t important. Now, at least. Emma had every intention of getting them to give up whatever they knew later. 

They definitely knew something. 

She’d worry about that after the home opener. “Alright, alright, alright,” Liam chanted, the stick back up and Will’s salute lacked any sort of legitimate respect. “Nine years ago now, we all stumbled back into this stupid city and laced up skates and tripped over ourselves on the ice.” He had to glance down. Reading it off an index card, then. Emma’s heart gave a small, but sure tumble in her chest. “And we were God awful. Terrible. Embarrassingly bad. But, as with most things, we figured it out. We stopped tripping over that giant emblem at center ice and we didn’t stutter during post and we actually started scoring goals.”

The stick was starting to shake. Retirement affected forearm strength, it seemed. 

“And we inexplicably won a first-round series and made the backpages of tabloids and then something kind of incredible happened.” Emma waited for the tension, for the sound of Killian’s knuckles cracking, or the exchange glances between Robin and Will. None of it came. It was stupid to think it would. And Liam was far from done. “Down two games in Pitt—” “—Oh my God,” Ruby hissed, “who calls it Pitt?” Liam ignored her. “A two-game hole, and totally fu—messed up media in Los Angeles, but none of that mattered because you guys kept scoring goals and the entire Kings organization is a black hole of talentless idiots.” “This is scathing, Leader,” Will said, “truly. Did you practice this?” “Yes,” Elsa said before Liam could open his mouth again, and Emma’s neck was going to give up sooner rather than later. Emotions twisted between the muscles there, another weight that somehow made it easier to breathe, like they had anything to do with her lungs, but none of her cared and all of her wanted. This, specifically. “There’s more though, Scarlet. Stop interrupting.” He saluted again. 

“Getting everything you wanted’s kind of a weird thing to wrap your head around, but that’s because this isn’t everything. Not yet. Somehow you guys are still capable of scoring goals and—y’know, your quotes leave a little to be desired.” “Here, here,” Ruby murmured. 

Liam might have been the best at glaring. Like, out of all of them. “But that just means the pressure’s on. Vankald cliché requirement; patent pending.” None of the boos that garnered had much bite to them. “Keeping the tradition alive is half the fun of hockey, this dumb sport with weapons on our feet and in our hands and it’s up to you guys. All over again. Start of the season, fresh slate, knowing you can do it because you already have. You ready, Rol?”

Roland nodded more than once, enthusiasm in every jerk of his head. “To the Cup,” he shouted. 

“To the Cup,” the crowd repeated, not much enunciation between the lot of them when both of the phones had a slight delay and there was a baby crying in Colorado. Still, neither Elsa nor Liam moved and the shot glasses Eric put down were rather quickly grabbed. So as to avoid Arthur’s ire. 

Alcohol burned the back of Emma’s mouth as soon as she tilted her head, shivering against the strength of whatever it was she just drank. If she cried, she was going to be really annoyed with herself. 

And the restaurant never got too loud, or too warm, but Emma’s heart stayed at its above-average rate for the next two hours, making the prospect of walking out the door and standing at the edge of the sidewalk all the more appealing. Especially when she remembered how—

It took him two minutes to follow her. Give or take. 

“Feels like we’re in a time warp,” Killian said, leaning against the side of the restaurant while Emma desperately tried to temper her own emotions and she had more emotions than she knew one person could be capable of containing. 

“No dancing, though.” “Banana and I went to a midnight showing of that on Halloween once.” “Seriously?” “Mmmhm. Have I mentioned that I am ridiculously in love with you yet, today?” Her head fell. Neck finally giving up, Emma’s cheek twisted on top of Killian’s shoulder, and his sweater, and if there was a quota for kisses pressed to the crown of her head, he was certainly trying to reach it. Competitive weirdo. “I don’t think so.” “Idiotic.” “Eh, we’ve been busy.” “I love you,” he said, and she smiled. Wide and easy and so goddamn happy, it only occasionally felt like a massive joke. And it still wasn’t enough. As selfish as that might have been, but Liam was definitely right and this wasn’t the end, might have just been another point on a circle and hints of wholly enjoyable déjà vu. “Is this the part where we talk about dating some guy on a team?” Left eyebrow, that time. Perfectly arched while his ability to smirk continued to infuriate Emma just a little, whatever sound she made when he ducked his head and caught her lips somewhere between joy and laughter and the seemingly perpetual talent to make her swoon wherever she was standing. 

They’d definitely gotten better at kissing in the last year. 

A fact Emma had every intention of pointing out — once she was done sticking her tongue in Killian’s mouth. Or trying to get her fingers under his sweater, his soft hiss at the lack of temperature in her fingertips some kind of victory she’d think about until the home opener and possibly until the All-Star break, and the overall arch of her back wasn’t particularly comfortable. But then her hips bumped Killian’s and that drew another sound and made champagne bubbles of the far more metaphorical variety explode in the general vicinity of her heart. 

One of her feet left the ground, not doing much to help her balance, but Emma had already spent too long considering the pros and cons of balance and she scratched at the back of Killian’s head. When her back pressed into the wall, threatening to scratch through her jersey and his fingers weren’t as cold as hers, because he might have just exuded heat, which likely wasn’t a sign and she wanted it to be a sign and—

“I love you,” Emma breathed, harder than she wanted. The force of his answering smile could have melted ice. In several prominent arenas across North America. 

“You worried?” “Very vague question.” “Swan.” “No,” she said, pleased to realize she meant all three letters. With just about everything in her. “Coming out here was—” “—We could have just made out in the restaurant.” “Pushing me up against a wall probably would have gotten us kicked out.” “Which would have led us here and then home, so,” Killian shrugged, “I fail to see the problem.” “You want to go home?” His eyes closed. His smile didn’t waver. Just pressed into the side of Emma’s neck and under her jaw, scruff, and strands of hair that were a little longer than they’d been last season, and she felt him inhale. Like he was trying to breathe her in, or possibly them. The specifics didn’t matter. They were something of a package deal now, anyway.

“Did you cop this jersey from equipment?” Leaning back was impossible with the wall behind her, but Emma was something of a glutton for emotions now and inherently greedy. Killian’s eyes noticeably darkened when she moved her tongue. Directly across her teeth. “Nah, I own this.” The thump of his forehead falling to her shoulder was the most satisfying sound she’d heard in two weeks. Bar none. 

“We’re leaving now,” Killian said. “Now.”

“You don’t want to—” Lacing his fingers through hers, he didn’t quite tug her back down the alley, but it was awfully close and Emma was glad she’d thought to bring her phone with her. “They’ll figure it out.”

She hoped they did. 

Checking her phone was somewhere near the bottom of the list she had absolutely no intention of making that night, opting instead to leave a trail of clothes back to their room and she couldn’t wear the jersey to the game. They made out in the hallway outside the visitor’s locker room, though. So Emma figured it something of a wash; and the first win of the season. 

[thefanbasewhore]

Bucky being away on a mission for 1 + month and pregnant reader is at home but starts showing and sends Bucky a picture and he's all like 😥😥😥🥰😍

This is Soo fucking cute ❤️ here's a little head cannon:

It happens out of no where, the notification that you had texted him an attachment, and of course he clicked right on it, curious to why.

His heart melts, literally does flips inside of his chest as his breath sezies.

The picture isn't fancy or extravagant, which he appreciates. It's clear you just woke up, face bare from any kind of makeup.

He feels his lips stretch with a smile, it burns but reaches his eyes as he notices the different directions your tangled hair sticks up in.

A simple black sports bra and a pair of biker shorts, cupping the small bump. It's not enough for anyone to even suggest your pregnant but he knows.

Bucky can see the difference in the way your back slightly leans forward, how your hips are widening and fattening up to support HIS baby. The small bumps fits perfectly in your hand and he's emotional.

He tries to blink away the few tears that sting his waterline but he can't look away as his finger sclups over the screen to touch your skin, he wishes he could it's been too long.

He notices the three small dots and after follows the text, "Look who decided to show today, we miss you daddy 👶❤️"

Bucky sighs softly, fingers threatening to press the call button but mumbling voice in his ear piece kindly reminds him of the rendezvous point only being five minutes away.

He quickly replays with, "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I miss you so much sweetheart."

He bites his lip, looking at the picture again, he can't help but stare at the bump in all its glory. It's there, round and full and it belongs to you both.

The best parts of two imperfect human beings to form into one beautiful human, one he loves with all his heart and hasn't even met yet.

Bucky just can't leave it at that. "I'll be home soon. Can't wait to see you both, he's growing so much, I'm missing it all :(."

"He?, Well 'he' isn't even close to being done growing. You're not missing anything, be safe, I love you."

Bucky bites his lip, chewing the fat lamelessly, "I'm always safe, I have you at home waiting for me. See you soon, sweet girl."

[kodzumie-archived]

First kiss headcannons with Nagito, Kokichi, and Keebo (my 3 favorite boys) please?

❝FIRST KISS❞

Synopsis; What their first kiss looks like.

Featuring; Kokichi Oma and Nagito Komaeda x GN! Reader

Warning(s); Kissing, established relationship, and Nagito’s self-degradation, but that’s all, I assume!

Kodzumie’s Note; I apologize, but I don’t accept requests for K1-B0/Keebo/Kiibo(?) yet! (Woah, so many ways to spell his name, haha.) I, hopefully, one day will, but I’ll gladly do the other two characters for you! Thank you for this request, it was adorable. I hope you’ve had a lovely day! Muah! <3

➤ KOKICHI OMA

⤷ Ever the jokester, he’ll likely play off his advances as nothing more than a quip; yet another jest of his. Every brush of his lips against yours, so close yet too far to be considered a proper kiss. He tests the waters, instinctual caution before truly diving within.

⤷ He’s analytical; inspecting your visage in order to determine whether or not he should follow through with the underlying verity of his intentions. Every pinch of your brows; the twitch of your lips in which form spherical as you gasp; the tops of your fingers brushing atop his chest in either an attempt to push him away or draw him in.

⤷ It’s an insatiable desire; a thirst he’s rendered unable to quench. For as long as he’s been with you, he expected the anticipated kiss. Though he’d began to dread the unpredictable ticking of time.

⤷ A timer held above his head, tantalizingly searing through his mind as a reminder of what’s to come; what he must prepare himself for. He questions whether he should leap, plunging forth and subduing his inhibitions.

⤷ But—albeit he’d never vocally admit such—he’s anxious. Even as he snickers, pulling his face away from yours to admire your flustered countenance, his leg bounces in response to the flurry of butterflies encapsulated within his gut.

⤷ If he was being honest with himself, he truly wanted to share this with you; to share his firsts of such sensual innocence. But where he faltered fell upon you; did you want to share something so intimate with him?

⤷ It was a matter of your approval. After all, the last thing he wanted was to royally embarrass himself at the ontological possibility that you simply didn’t want to engage in such a thing with him. Truly, he’d bury himself alive if your rejection were to occur after he’d already committed to the kiss.

⤷ So—with due diligence—he preserves his temptations and treads upon steady waters. His eyes keen on pinpointing your reposte to his jests; he’d always been skilled in the art of reading others. In due time, he’ll deduce your answer.

⤷ Thus was the beginnings of what Kokichi dubbed as The Chamber of Paradox. Well, for such a theatrical title the notion itself was rather burlesque.

⤷ Amidst this time, Kokichi’s tongue was laced in the plaguing of fallacy; a lie of self-contradictory. Poignant brushing of lips against the plush skin of your cheek as he draws away with a cheeky grin, and an all-too-knowing sheen within his violet orbs.

⤷ He’s aware of your perplexion. He’s tauntingly aware of the dissatisfaction veiled within your pout. And, within that very moment, he instilled that the tendrils of bitter reluctance were merely a kind lie. That feeling—the suffocating fear of rejection—was a falsity born from within the clutches of kindness.

⤷ But there’s a glory within masking his intentions. Tugging himself back, he departs his lips from your cheek and sports his infamous, mischevious grin as you raise a brow at his antics. When questioned for hos reasonings behind the fleeting peck, it’s as though he’s rehearsed it all before.

⤷ “Do I have to have a reason to kiss you?” He jabs. To the surface, he’s composed; delighted, even. Though that’s the beauty of masquerade, isn’t it?

⤷ He was poigantly forced to bare the weight of your underlying conviction; an impression he wished to have been blinded of. Your displeasure to his initiation upon your cheek; a destination far from his true intent.

⤷ Underneath the grin and boisterous laughter, his heart ached. A prick of a thorn dipped in venom, gradually spreading to the entirety of his heart and enveloping him in a state of melancholy.

⤷ He shouldn’t be feeling this way; he knows this. After all, a mutual desire was needed for him to begin to culminate the possibilities of initiating such shared moments. If you weren’t willing to engage then he would respect your wishes. Your comfort a priority far above his own impulses.

⤷ He respected your innermost discontentment. Thus, he strayed from initiating anything he deemed to reflect such a negative swirl of emotions within you. Even managing to restrict himself from pressing his lips against your cheeks; what he once considered a secondary form of jesting.

⤷ Yet it unnerved him that—despite his restrictions of physical intimacy—you still seemed dissatisfied. In fact, you seemed further displeased. He began to question whether or not he’d done something entirely unrelated to upset you.

⤷ Abiding by the tactic he’d come to know best, he pesters you. Picking at your patience to pry apart the genuine root of your vexation.

⤷ Through the ever-so playful baritone of his, he prods. “Are you mad at me?” A chuckle following soon after as he meets your eyes, hands poised behind his hands, casually.

⤷ To the ears of bystanders, his words hold no truth; a mere travesty of fallacious hurt. But you were not a bystander, and you were not heedless to his innermost concerns. And thus, with a sigh, you caved.

⤷ Truly, Kokichi wondered if he’d began hallucinating in that instance. He questioned if the words he’d interpreted you to utter were a mere figment of his mind; that you hadn’t rethought such a thing. A resonant question; why don’t you want to kiss me?

⤷ Well this was certainly a turn of events. You—of all people; of the two of you—were inquiring whether or not he was opposed to kissing you. In another instance, he’d have dubbed it comical. But the redundant suppression of his impulsivity induced his jaw to slack open, surprise evident within his visage.

⤷ “Say, what now?” Though the words passed through his lips as a question, you both were fully aware of the rhetoric implication. His eyes trained on yours as he attempts to decipher your thoughts within the encompass of your thoughts. But Kokichi isn’t a mind reader, and neither are you; the two of you needed to communicate verbally, desperately.

⤷ You’re hesitant. Your reluctance seeling into the quiver of your lips as your fists clench ever-so slightly. You needed to talk it out. No matter how abnormally in sync and tune, internally, with one another, you still needed to vocalize your true feelings.

⤷ So you swallow back the last traces of reticence, and utter your concerns. The avoidance of pecking your lips, the gradual decline of the kisses he’d brush up on your cheeks as a playful greeting, and his general reduction of previous normalcy of physical affection. Everything he’d done, you’d noticed. And it—albeit unintentionally—was swallowing you in grief and self-consciousness. How ironic.

⤷ Kokichi nearly allowed a laugh to slip at the irony of it all; the comical contradiction of both your perceptions. He was wallowing in dejection at your interlaced satisfaction of, presumably, his advancements whilst you were despondent of his withdrawal of the aforementioned advancements. Oh, how key communication was to the engagement of intimacy.

⤷ “Ah, man! And here I thought you didn’t want me to kiss you.” He admitted, jovial swirling within his remark. Your eyes widened instantaneously at his admission. Why on Earth would he assume that?

⤷ Though you don’t verbally voice your dumbfounding, finding it far within your mind as you eye Kokichi. He paces towards you, violet orbs masquerading with flickers of zeal as he nears you, craning his neck to leans closer towards you.

⤷ You rapidly discern his intentions as you, too, begin to tilt your head; allowing passage for him to—after long last—press his lips against yours.

⤷ Even as his lips hover over yours, a mere few centimeters away from yous, he falters. His eyes flickering to yours for some sort of confirmation; assurance that you truly wanted this just as much as he did.

⤷ Yet rather than the nodding of your head to ease his worries upon your potential second thoughts, he’s greeted with the weight of another’s lips atop his own. A reciprocated desire; swallowing his gasp as your hand finds its way through his hair, cradling his head to draw him closer.

⤷ Time seemed to slow, yet paradoxically begin to race as your lips overlapped his, suckling on his bottom lip in which quivered ever-so-slightly in stimulated fervor.

⤷ You pulled away far too soon for his liking, but the lingering taste of you kept him at bay. He could still feel your lips; the vivid, dream-like sensation of pure eloquence.

⤷ In that instance, he’s breathless. Cheeks lit aflame with roseate sincerity, he allows his lips to curl into a smile. One that you, yourself, find to be taken aback by as he steadies his breathing. Of all the smiles you’ve seen from your lover, Kokichi, this was his most solemn one.

➤ NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ The initial kiss was long anticipated, yet perpetually prolonged. It’s a dream―akin to a mind-fogged daze―to share something so daringly intimate with you. Especially it being his first kiss, of all things.

⤷ He’s aware of how his inexperience will cater towards a sloppy attempt, and it petrified him; the haunting, ontological realization that he’s bound to disappoint you. He’s tantalizingly conscious of the relentless ways his miserable self could potentially offend you with how out of tune he is.

⤷ Thus, he avoids initiating anything in fear of a countenance of disappointment from you. He wouldn’t be able to handle such an expression from you; the one who believed in him, and assured him he had value.

⤷ It’s tormenting; yearning for something yet persisting to push it beyond his own reach. At times, he claims himself to be a masochist. Relinquishing his desires in favor of uncertainty.

⤷ He’s already milked his luck; being in a relationship with you was enough to be considered a lifetime worth of luck. As much as he yearns for the feeling of his lips upon yours, he musn’t. He’s already been selfish enough, claiming you as solely his lover.

⤷ Yet the humanistic temptation seemed to encapsulate him within its clutches, easing his mind into a fantastical realm of the ever-so ontological sentience of how your lips would feel.

⤷ Nagito, much to his dismay, was reluctantly selfish. His desires to bask within the essence and encompass of you, you, you overriding his belittling mindset of his absent worth. He wants to smother himself in shame at the thought of taking more of you, but the urge is increasingly suffocating.

⤷ He wants you. He wants you in your entirety. A selfish yearning that he undeniably loathes himself for and insists that he never act upon. Subduing to a misery of helpless longing in which he’ll never allow himself to be satisfied with relief. Nagito, really and truly, was a masochist.

⤷ Even as the inklings of inclinations plagued his every thought, seeping into his casual behavior, he resisted.

⤷ For every moment in which he’s seated beside you, his eyes flickering downwards to admire what he truly craved to graze his own lips upon, he resisted. Biting back his urges and swallowing the remnants of greed.

⤷ He knows it’s become unfair to you. A cage of degrading thoughts compiling over him and staining his heart with the perpetual ink of self-loathing has managed to poison your hope amongst him. With every time you steer your face to meet his, gazing into his eyes for any hintings of unwanted touches, he reels himself away; your lips meeting the skin of his cheek instead.

⤷ It devastates him to be poignantly aware of the doubt he’s inflicting upon you; the despair he has induced within you.

⤷ He’s riddled his professions into a mangled cobweb of mutual desire. Each seam a confession of his absolute, undeniable yearning for you; for the entirety of you. A selfish feat, but one you’ve astonished him with how complying you seemed. Would you truly want someone like him to take this much of you?

⤷ Truthfully, he attempted to gauge himself into believing you wouldn’t want him to. That every instance you attempt to initiate a kiss, it was merely a coincidence; a mistake.

⤷ But he knows better. Nagito is as self-loathing as he was clever. He knew how to read people and decipher situations expertly. He was aware of your genuine intentions, and yet he continued to bury himself beneath fallacy; excuses.

⤷ It’s selfish, selfish, selfish! He knows better than to continuously withdraw from you, when he swore his mere purpose was to provide for you. He’s your devoted lover; the one who gives you all that you ask under no condition nor reciprocal.

⤷ And yet you’ve provided him with much more than he could have ever imagined; much more than he was aware he could be seen as worthy of.

⤷ Time and time again, you’ve wagered yourself in order to reel in his temptations; allowing him to succumb to the piercing tendrils of greed. Hook, line, and sinker.

⤷ One can only dwindle in denial for so long before they’re subdued. The ontological realization that you, in fact, share his desire. That the yearning to press his lips atop yours, smothering you in a newfound world of intimacy, was mutual.

⤷ It’s gradual; a build up of overwhelming tempation as well as the underlying guilt of daring to reject your request. Yet, as ticks of time pass on, he finds himself surrendering to the pith of his long-lastingly suppressed infatuation.

⤷ Fingers curling beneath your chin, he secures a hold your face, cradling it to tilt ever-so gently. His grip just barely burrowing itself into the supple skin of your plush cheeks, inducing a slight pucker of your lips.

⤷ Nagito—with hesitancy painting the canvas of his visage—smiles upon your startled yet covetous expression. A glimmer within your eyes that rivals even the stars as you begin to flutter them to a delicate close; anticipation seeping through your lidded eyes.

⤷ He falters momentarily, pondering of what scum like him has the audacity to hold you this way. He knew he had no right to be cradling your face, pulling you in to just barely graze his lips atop your own pair. Your breaths fanning in synchronized gasps.

⤷ But he pushed forth, leaning in to close the prolonged gap between you two, sinking into the kiss.

⤷ A moan is muffled admist your joint lips as he parts his lips to envelope yours once more. He savored the sensation; the warmth of your lips atop his, the brush of your lashes against his cheek, and the engulfed mewls that you’d unintentionally released.

⤷ He treasured the entirety of that moment, smothering himself in the aftershock as each breath he took that melted with yours was electrifying.

⤷ Even as the two of you pulled away—taking the opportunity to relieve yourselves of the tension and regain steady breathing—he realized the true intensity of his passions; his craving that seemed to be perpetual.

⤷ He realized that he, Nagito Komaeda, was a selfish man. Claiming your lips under the engulfing of his virgin pair. He realized his greed as he took a deep breath, and leaned in for another taste.

[cuddlesslut]

Part FOUR : Chance Encounters

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

Tags: slight NSFW, Heavy Angst.

A/N: so this will NOT be the last chapter there will be more. Just like there are more choices now lol, don’t be shy to tell me who you route for. Also let me know if y’all want more NSFW I’m chill with writing it . ALSO slight canon divergence the timing on when Hinata comes back from Brazil is different, obviously in the Manga he’s only gone for two years. In this story it is longer. Hinata isn’t on MSBY yet. Also we are only caught up on 5 months since the dreaded birthday.

Part Three: Memories

Part Five: Friends

You spent your birthday in some hotel room. Sitting on the plush bed still in your dress not bothering to change your curl in to a fetal position as sobs raked through you. Your whole world crashed down on you everything you knew was a lie. Your phone lit up with one last birthday message from some distant relative. You see the time it’s now one in the morning you’ve been laying here for hours you can’t understand how you have any liquid in your body left to cry but still tears trail down your cheeks as you look at your lock screen. It’s a photo from three Christmas’s ago. Atsumu held you close from behind as you pose in front of a festive Christmas tree. Your eyes are shut tight from laughter as the setter places a kiss to your cheek bone, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This was your favorite photo of the two of you, it always showed the realness in this candid shot. You remember laughing so hard from some cheesy joke he had just whispered in your ear. Your heart twists at the photo, a moment of anger slices through you. Was any of it real? You fling your phone at the wall effectively shattering the screen. You scream into the pillow. You wish you could feel numb to all of the emotions. But no ones that lucky. You aren’t sure when you feel asleep but you wake to find the remnants of tears stuck to your face. You move to the bathroom. You look like death. Your face is pale and eyes swollen and red. Your body aches from the fitful sleep you had. You grab a quick shower before putting on your comfiest pajamas and lay back down. All the energy is drained you look for your phone before remembering your fit of rage last night groan. You switch on the TV for some form of distraction but the gods must really hate you as it opens to a sports channel and you see him in all of his intensity standing on the volleyball court. Part of your brain pleads to change the channel but you must be a masochist as you watch him in all his usual glory. He commands the stadium as he goes up to serve. He looks perfectly fine like you hadn’t just walked out of his life. Like he hadn’t just ripped your world to shreds. You're finally turning the television off sitting in the silence thinking of the memories of your home. You ordered some takeout trying to settle the ache in your stomach. The food tasted bland, everything has lost its edge. The bed offers no comfort. The sunlight offers no warmth. It’s not long before you fall into another depression nap.

Waking up late in the evening you can’t stop your mind from making a stupid decision. But you miss him. You just want to see him. That’s how you end up outside of the door that leads to the home you shared with him. Trying to work up the courage to enter. His car was in his usual spot so you know he's here. A bitter thought run through you at the thought that while you were here he couldn’t be bothered to be home before two am at the earliest, yet the first night gone and here he is at home at ten o’clock. Silently you open the door. It was a mistake. You don’t make it even completely through the threshold before you hear the obnoxious moan and grunts, the sound of skin slapping. It makes you sick “OH Miya-San!” You hear some woman bellow out. You feel nauseous. You hurry out the door trying you best not to cause any noise to interrupt the activities in the house. You bend over you feel as though you’ll throw up right there on the spot. After calming yourself you make a way to a convenience store picking up a bottle of wine before heading back to you hotel room. There’s no way you’ll make it through the night sober.

The next morning you clean your self up before heading to the bank and clear out your joint account. Normally you’d feel bad taking the money but this cash was saved for your wedding and that would never happen now. You stopped by the phone store getting your own account not wanting anymore strings attached to the player. You spend the rest of your morning looking for a small affordable apartment. Luckily you were able to find one with in distance of your school and a reasonable price. It’s now the afternoon and you have to rush not wanting to be late for your class. Although it probably wouldn’t have made a difference if you had missed today, you barely pay attention. You find yourself back with the hotel walls.

You feel completely and utterly alone. You want nothing more to call your best friend or stop by Samu’s shop and cry on his shoulder while you eat some comfort food. But there is hesitation Suna was Atsumu's friend before he was yours, and you'll probably break down in tears just looking at Osamu he was his damn twin for heavens sake. What were you to them you wonder. You only got close to them because of the setter. Part of you wanted to believe that they cared about you and all of those friendships would still be there but you couldn’t. How could they want you around. You really question your place in their lives. It’s hard to trust in anything you had also believed Atsumu loved you and would never hurt you, yet that much was proven untrue. It's hard to trust in anything you feel or know. Another reason is your afraid of all of the memories you shared with them Atsumu ever present in those moments. You don’t want to think about him any more. You don’t want any remnants of that man In your life. While you want to believe Suna would be there for you, that he’d choose you. It was not a risk you were ready to take. You don’t think you could survive another heartbreak. It’s better to leave things as is, to cherish the good memories and not risk tainting them with pain.

It’s been two months since your birthday. You’ve moved into a quaint apartment. You got a job working at a little cafe to pay for rent. Between work and studying for your degree you try to keep yourself busy. It’s hard being on your own. You try to distract yourself with the things that brought you joy. Some days are better than others but all in all everything still hurts. Graduation is only a couple of months away so at least there’s something to look forward too. There are moments that come quite often that you miss your friends but you can’t bring yourself to reach out still untrusting. You look back sometimes and wonder where the lies stopped. You avoid everything that has to do his Atsumu Miya. Even the sight of a simple volleyball brings distress.

Three and half months later the cosmos played another prank on you. It was just another Friday afternoon and you were working in the cafe. You had just helped a young beautiful woman at the counter. She seemed so familiar but you couldn’t quit place it. You could see a puzzled look on her face. Then it hit you. You knew exactly who this woman was. She was the one with your ex fiancé at the restaurant that fateful night. The realization must have struck her too. Her eyes grew wide with worry. Although you weren’t expecting what she did next.

“I AM SO SORRY,” she basically yelling as she bows in front of you. “ I’m so sorry for the part I played in your pain.” She continues. You can tell she is really distressed. You coworkers and a few costumers look at the spectacle. Hating all of the attention now directed toward the both, you beg her to please stand.

“I need you to understand I had no idea, I would never have gone for a taken man.”

You sighed and sent a look to your coworker that you were going to take a quick break. “Would you like a cup of coffee,” you ask her. You never thought That you’d be sitting having coffee with the mistress of the only man you ever loved yet here you are. There’s an awkward silence for a moment. You don’t rush things you can see she’s also having a hard time trying to figure out where to start. You take a sip of your coffee as she finally speaks.

“My names Yuki,” she states.

“YN ,” you offer back.

“Well, umm YN I just want to say I am so sorry for wh-” you cut her off holding up your hand.

“You said you didn’t know, correct?” You send a glance at her raising your eyebrow. She nods.

“Are you still with him?” She sits up straight.

“Absolutely not,” she states with conviction “after you left I asked him what just happed and he explained who you were and I left.. well not with out dumping my drink in face" she gave a little giggle.

“Ha! Oh I wish I could have seen that,” you laughed picturing him drenched in the restaurant. “In that case you have nothing to apologize for, you are a victim of Atsumu’s selfishness as well. I’m sorry he put you through that.” She gave a sad smile you could see she was hurt too. The two of you spent a few more moments in each other’s comfort discussing the facts of his affair. It hurts to know that he had a legitimate relationship with Yuki but a part of you was glad to know. It was a small piece of closure to know how deep his transgressions ran, knowing it wasn’t just sex hurt even more. But it furthered your stance that he didn’t love you and if he had at one point the love had faded on his part some time ago. You spent the rest of your shift plagued with thoughts of you past.

After your shift you went home to change before heading out to your local bar. In your time alone you had taken solace in drinking with strangers. After dressing in an appealing yet comfortable outfit you headed out. You wanted to feel comfy and relaxed but that didn’t stop you from wanting to look nice. In your past visits it wasn’t uncommon for men to try and talk you up and while you did indulge in the compliments none had succeeded in getting you to return home with them. There had yet to be a guy who fully kept your attention away from your former lover.

You found your favorite spot at the bar, just far enough from the blaring music and smokers. You smiled at the bartender before ordering your usual. You sat there letting the liquor relax you as you listened to what music the DJ was playing tonight. Normally you stick to just drinks but after the day you had you need something to take the edge off. After downing a shot of tequila you notice a presence next to you.

“Is this seat taken,” the man smiled at you. You had never seen him here before and you know damn well you would have noticed him before. Although he wasn’t a giant like most of the men you knew in your life, he wasn’t excessively short either you could tell he’d still stand taller than you. You couldn’t lie the man was extremely defined and muscular, you swear his tanned thighs that you saw peeking from under his khaki shorts were bigger than your face. His skin was tanned you can tell from pleanty of time in the sun. He had strong jaw line but his most prominent feature was this bright mop of orange hair he tried to hide under a ball cap. He had a bright smile that reached his alluring brown eyes. It was safe to say he was very handsome. He tilts his head to the side a little smirk reaching his lips. It then you realized you had never responded and just been sitting here gawking.

“Um no it’s not uhh go ahead,” you stammered out feeling a blush creep on to your cheeks at your response. What is this feeling why are you acting like a school girl.

He takes the seat next to you ordering a beer then turning to you reaching out his hand. “ Shoyo Hinata,” he states.

You accept his hand giving it a light shake. “ YN LN,” you responded. “ I’ve never seen you here before Hinata-San,” you prod wanting to know about the stranger.

“Just Shoyo is fine,”he gives you another dazzling smile. “I actually just moved back to Japan,” he states “this is my first time at this bar , but with customers as beautiful as you I’ll definitely have to come more often.” Ohh hes smooth you think. You let out a light chuckle at his compliment although it’s fairly simple compared to some of lines you’ve heard it definitely has the desired affect on you.

“Well then Shoyo where are you traveling from?” Question not wanting the convo to stop.

“I just got back from Brazil,” he mused that signature smile never far from his face.

“Wow Brazil! That’s so far was it hard to be so far from home?”you questioned.

The conversation with Hinata flowed effortlessly. Pleanty of laughes shared as he told you countless stories of his time in South America. Being in conversation with him is like talking to the sun it’s so bright and happy. He does eventually mention playing beach volleyball and for a moment you mind thinks of your ex but it then you realized it was the first time since Sho made his appearance that you had thought of the setter. It felt nice to finally have your mind clearing from the twin. As of recent at any mention of volleyball you would have ended the convo making an excuse to leave, yet you didn’t want to, plus beach volleyball is completely different than regular volleyball you reason.

Time passes by as well do several drinks. You are by no means drunk just a little tipsy. Over the course of your talking the space between Hinata started to narrow. Right now you were so close you could smell his cologne and the slight minty scent of his breath. His hand caressed your elbow. Your breath hitched when he finally leaned in “do wanna get out of here?,” you can see his iris’s darken ever so slightly. “We can go back to my place,” he continued.

Several thoughts ran threw your mind in that moment. One, you were nervous, you hadnt been with anyone other than Atsumu. Two, you were sure you weren’t ready for a relationship but it was just sex it’s not like he’s asking on a romantic vacation. And three you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours. “Absolutely.”

That’s how you got to where you are now. You barely made it through the threshold before Hinata had you pinned to the door. You were locked in a searing kiss. It was like he was stealing the air from your lungs. His hands roamed your figure before slipping under your blouse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he breaths before pressing a kiss under your jaw trailing down you neck. You place you hands on his shoulders trying to ground yourself. You let out a loud moan as he gives a bite to your shoulder while grabbing a hand full of you breast. He smiled into you neck with pleasure from the sounds you made. The two of you stumbled a bit as you started making your way to his room shedding clothes left and right. The door closed to the bedroom and you were ready for a mindblowing night.

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[wttcsms]

the shoyo fic concept!! literally found it directly from an old post so here it is in all its glory:

abt to go to sleep, but i can’t sleep, not knowing that i have a fic concept for hinata i actually like

this dynamic is gonna be kinda similar to the one between him and an oc i have for the atsumu smau i wouldn’t shut up abt but basically for this concept, reader is kind of a toxic bitch. like idk, you just spent so much of your time with guys who only used you, treated you like shit, etc. so you’re kind of a bitch when it comes to guys. you don’t trust them, you think that they all suck, basically all you have are hookups or toxic on again off again “relationships” that aren’t relationships bc both you and the guy always end up fucking other ppl whether you’re on or off

and i haven’t thought too hard abt the specifics, but let’s say that you’re majoring in sports management or something so you get into a lot of pro games and whatnot through connections from ur uni & ur there to build connections and network, etc. the program is sponsored by the msby black jackals so you end up going to a lot of their games & that’s when you meet hinata <3333

and he’s not ur type. at all. in a gymnasium full of men who are well over 6 ft, ur first pick would not be this ginger headed leprechaun. hello???? you don’t even hook up with guys who are only 5’10, and hinata DEFINITELY is not even 5’10. but he’s also the one that gets assigned to show you around the sports center and he surprisingly has a LOT of connections and people he can get you in touch with. so you hang out with him because it’s beneficial and that’s all you really ever think you’re able to do: use people.

but you don’t just wanna use hinata. because he seems... sweet? but that’s not right because how many “sweet” guys have you met before who turned out to be the exact opposite? hinata’s different. he’s really... genuine.

UGH and could you imagine the FEELINGS you get around him. because so far, you’ve done a great job suppressing any positive emotions for any guy out of fear of being disappointed. but you can’t help the not so subtle feelings of butterflies whenever he’s smiling at you when he’s on court. the way after every game, he can’t even wait for you get down from the stands; he’s already making his way to where you’re sitting. (as a matter of fact, it’s not even the uni funding your tickets to the game anymore. he’s letting you in as his own personal guest). and you don’t WANT to feel this way abt him. and it’s not even because you don’t trust him (scarily enough, you DO). it’s because...

does he really deserve someone like you? you’re awful and rude and emotionally distant and you drop people before they can drop you, and so so so insecure and you’ll only drag him down, really.

i just really want hinata reassuring you that he thinks you’re his absolute dream girl. like, you’re literally about to drop him out of the fucking blue because you think you’re the absolute shittiest person to ever exist and that someone like you can’t possibly deserve someone like him, and it’s like he KNOWS you’re abt to spiral and try to run off because that’s just what you do, what you’ve ALWAYS done, and he just holds your hand. doesn’t even matter what the convo is abt, it’s like he sensed all ur negative thoughts, and he’s washing it away with that dopey smile he reserves just for you, telling you that “you’re my dream girl, you know?”

woke up in the middle of the night (2am!) because i had some more thoughts abt this & i finally made sense of what 2am amber typed out in her notes but

this fic was inadvertently inspired by what aj told me. we were talking abt dark content & more specifically why dubcon is so prevalent in fics and japanese media nowadays bc “[aj] read somewhere that in japan dub/non con porn is more widespread than enthusiastic consent because that’s seen as slutty” + “ like the woman is worth more because she’s like not giving herself away freely” which is honestly an angle i’ve never thought to consider before & upon hearing this, i was like “oh shit that’s… literally fucking true”

SO, a big point of the fic is that reader is willingly sleeping with guys, yknow? and, you know how guys can flex how many bodies they have but when girls sleep with a bunch of guys it’s shameful and dirty and deemed “disgusting” or “she’s for the streets”. well, basically, it’s gonna be like that for reader. guys wanna fuck you & they’ll do anything to sleep with you, but after it’s all said and done & you guys don’t speak again or whatnot, they’re going back to, essentially, slutshaming you.

ANOTHER point i want to press in the fic is the degradation kink. i’m p sure i’ve written it before, it’s not like, all-time fave thing to write but i’m not entirely against it. HOWEVER, in this fic, ur very heavy on absolutely no degradation, like it honestly turns you off. and it’s because even if the guy you’re fucking is doing a great job, it doesn’t excuse the fact that he called u a slut who’s only good for taking cock, yknow? the first and second times it’s happened, you didn’t really bat an eye, but there’s a theme with the guys that you’ve been with and it’s the fact that a majority of them are into heavily degrading you. and the thing is, you listen to something enough times & it gets ingrained in your subconscious & makes you lower ur self worth.

because yeah, these guys think ur hot & cool & some even like to talk to you outside of just trying to hook up, but there’s an imbalance when it comes to respect, as in you see them as a human being and they see you as just some girl who can they fuck. there’s not like a mutual respect there & even if you DO complain to them abt the degrading remarks, it’s always an excuse of “oh chillout it’s just dirty talk, etc.”

so one reason why you like/eventually love shoyo so much is because he treats you with respect. and it’s not something you even had to earn or prove that you deserve (because u should never have to prove to anyone that you deserve to be treated respectfully). he makes you feel respected, which is important.

another thing is that he makes you feel good abt yourself. because yeah, you’ve been with a lot of guys, and they all obviously wanted to fuck you for a reason and several of them have admitted that they thought you were hot and whatnot, but when hinata compliments you, it’s not because he has some ulterior motive to get u in bed with him; he compliments you because he genuinely sees you as someone who’s beautiful. and you’ve never really spent much time staring too hard at urself in the mirror, but when hinata TELLS you that you’re beautiful, you really, truly fucking feel on top of the world because he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it from the bottom of his heart.

ALSO yes, when you and hinata finally fuck, forget degradation, hinata is heavy on the praise!!!! generous with the compliments!!!!! he makes you feel so loved and safe and that’s really all you’ve been craving this whole entire time!!!!!

[icccricketschedule24]

Unlocking the Cricket Carnival: ICC Cricket Schedule 2024 Revealed!

Are you ready to be swept away by the whirlwind of cricketing action? Brace yourselves because the ICC Cricket Schedule for 2024 is here, promising an electrifying array of matches that will set stadiums abuzz and fans’ hearts racing. From the glitz and glamor of the IPL 2024 to the pinnacle of cricketing excellence in the World Cup 2024, cricket aficionados are in for a treat like never before. Let’s dive into the excitement and explore what’s in store for cricket lovers worldwide.

IPL 2024: Where Stars Collide and Legends Are Born:

Kicking off the cricketing extravaganza is none other than the Indian Premier League (IPL) 2024, a tournament that needs no introduction. Renowned for its high-octane clashes and nail-biting finishes, the IPL is a melting pot of talent from across the globe. With powerhouse teams battling it out for supremacy, expect nothing short of edge-of-the-seat action and jaw-dropping performances.

From the ferocious batting of Virat Kohli to the crafty spin of Rashid Khan, the IPL 2024 promises to showcase cricketing brilliance at its finest. Whether you’re a die-hard fan cheering from the stands or a fantasy cricket enthusiast fine-tuning your dream team, the IPL 2024 is a spectacle you won’t want to miss.

World Cup 2024: The Ultimate Showdown of Cricketing Titans:

As the dust settles on the IPL, cricket fever will reach its zenith with the highly anticipated ICC World Cup 2024. Held once every four years, the World Cup is the epitome of cricketing glory, where nations vie for supremacy and players etch their names into the annals of history. With the world’s best cricketers converging on the grand stage, prepare yourself for a rollercoaster ride of emotions and unforgettable moments.

From the thunderous roar of the crowd to the nerves of steel displayed by players under pressure, the World Cup 2024 promises to deliver a spectacle like no other. Whether it’s the raw power of a blistering century or the finesse of a perfectly executed yorker, expect every match to be a testament to the beauty and drama of the sport.

Stay Updated with the Latest Sports News and Updates:

As the cricketing calendar unfolds, staying abreast of the latest sports news and updates is essential for every fan. Whether it’s injury updates, team announcements, or match predictions, our blog site is your one-stop destination for all things cricket. With expert analysis, insightful commentary, and insider tips, we’ll keep you ahead of the game throughout the season.

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Think you have what it takes to outsmart the experts? Put your cricketing knowledge to the test with our match predictions and fantasy tips. Whether you’re strategizing your dream XI for the next IPL match or predicting the outcome of a crucial World Cup encounter, our expert advice will give you the winning edge. With invaluable insights and insider knowledge, dominate your fantasy leagues and revel in the glory of victory.

As the ICC Cricket Schedule for 2024 unfolds, brace yourselves for a cricketing carnival like never before. From the glitz and glamor of the IPL 2024 to the adrenaline-fueled drama of the World Cup 2024, the stage is set for a season of unparalleled excitement and entertainment. So, gather your friends, don your team colors, and get ready to embark on a journey filled with unforgettable moments and cricketing magic. Let the games begin!

Click here to know more

[arkus-rhapsode]

Bnha chap 302 was crazy! So many stuff have been revealed! What did u think of it?

(So before I start, I just want to say, sorry it took me a few days to answer this. when discussion recent chapters of MHA, I’m trying now to wait for the official release before posting anything. I know I haven’t always been the best when using scans vs official releases, but I’m going to try and make this more a  thing. Given some flack I’ve received in the past, as well as recent crack downs by shueisha. So you can send me asks like this, please I’m not discouraging it. but you’re just going to have to wait till after the official releases.)

With the preamble out of the way OH MY GOD! This flashback chapters are amazing! Like this has been the kind of stuff I’ve been waiting for in MHA after the metric crap ton of build up by Horikoshi. And its not disappointed.

First, I do likeEndeavor’s gradual decline into is asshole self from Shoto’s memory. It’s vocally recognized that Endeavor is breaking societal taboos with his Quirk Marriage. Not only his selfish wishes to have an ultimate child to surpass All Might, but Toya is basically one of the worst combinations of this selective breeding. Being that he has stronger fire than Endeavor, but he has resistance to cold temperature so he’s just burning his body.

Yet Endeavor still is more focused on surpassing All Might. And when he comes to the realization that Toya will never surpass All Might, he decides to make a his real ultimate child. Now the reason I like this is because this isn’t Endeavor just being like “I need to surpass All Might with the perfect child”, its also, “I need to create my ideal child which will surpass All Might and act as a deterrent to Toya wanting to be a hero.”

Now, I love this scene, not just because no matter how Endeavor tries to justify his actions, he is still ultimately breaking societal conventions just to selfishly surpass his rival. But it also shows, Endeavor is aware of Toya’s feelings. He KNOWS Toya won’t stop trying to be a hero. He’s not some ignorant to his son wanting to live up to his dream of the ultimate hero. But his plan to stop Toya is not altruistic. It’s still selfish. His plan is literally to make an actually superior child, just to get his son to give e up. Its probably the worst thing you can do.

And most recently in 302, when that doesn’t work and Toya still burns himself and tries to attack Shoto. Endeavor finally just decides to no longer deal with this. personally. He is leaving Toya to Rei and is just going to focus on Shoto. He’s pushing a problem onto someone else and NOW he’s just ignoring it.

And then he just doubles down worse from there. Actually becoming more of the abuser that Shoto and Natsuo remember. All because Rei couldn’t keep Toya in line. Even though Toya was his son too.

It’s been awhile since we have seen Endeavor as the antagonistic figure. And I know the story of Endeavor will always be a tough one because its ultimately one trying to redeem an abuser. And I like that in this flashback, we are really reminded of why Endeavor wants atonement, because what he did to his family was wrong. And now we’re actually seeing it. Hell, some of it is more uncomfortable because we now see, its not like Endeavor was so pure evil psychopath, he gradually slipped from some wrong-headed jerk who was breaking taboos who is aware he’s doing bad things but pushing forward to ignoring his problems he’s caused to finally lashing out at his family as if it’s not also his responsibility. 

And we see a man who is regretful. But he still made mistakes. And I like that this hasn’t just been for the audience, this has been for Endeavor. Because he can no longer keep those skeletons in his closet nor is he in a position to throw himself a pity party. Again, we still have to wait a few chapters before we see like how this pays off. But Rei is reminding him that if he really wants to make things better and prove he’s a better person, then let’s start by getting his house in order.

Speaking of Rei, this has been a pretty interesting character study for her as well. We see Rei as pretty much a passive player both in the series up to this point being in a hospital, but also in this flashback. She agrees to be Enji’s wife and while she’ll speak up, she doesn’t stop Endeavor from having more kids. Nor does she stop him from really separating the kids. She also brings it up that like Endeavor, she didn’t really “see” what was really going on with Toya.

While Endeavor may have thought a deterrent of making him Toya give up would work, Rei try to just talk to Toya about looking beyond his father, but its not just wanting his father’s attention that is driving Toya mad. Its the fact that his birth was solely to make an ultimate Quirk users and if he’s not then his whole creation is pointless.

Because at he core, she is still complacent with this arrangement. From her family to the fact that when she can’t actually stand up to Enji, she then starts lashing out at the children who remind her of them. She has hurt her children too and its wrong. But unlike Endeavor who is really now just trying to come to grips with that, Rei has clearly stewed in that self loathing for a while. And now, she’s not being passive, she’s now taking a stand and being the one who needs to pull Endeavor out of his own self-pity.

Its very nice to see this character who, like Endeavor, has transformed over the course of this union.  

Now what does this mean for their marriage? As this seems to be the root cause of here passivity. I’m not sure. But Hori has given me no reason to think he’ll do something crazy with it. So I’m going to wait and see.

Now onto the man himself, Toya. Man finding out about Dabi has been a trip. Because at first it seems like he just wants his dad’s attention. To be proud of him. But its more than just that. Toya has a fire in him that won’t go out.

Toya’s “fire” isn’t this drive to be number 1 hero and get the glory. Its literally the validation of his existence. Because he was made to surpass All Might. If Toya can’t do that, then he failed at his existence. 

It really pulls back that Dabi doesn’t hate Endeavor because of abuse like Rei, Shoto and Natsuo. Dabi hates Endeavor because he was born solely to fulfill his mission, and when he was physically incapable of doing so, he replaced him with a child who could. It hurts to watch.

Because Dabi will never get over the fact of why he’s here in the first place, I think a lot of kids when they get older have that realization about why they’re here is because of their parents. And Toya can literally trace why his father made him. As he recalled with Snatch.

Just contemplating his family and why he’s here. He lost it.

We also get some cool details on Dabi’s powers. With his flames growing even stronger from red to blue, but also that the burns around his chest that we first saw in his video is intentionally so he could both hide the burns but also avoid hurting him.

There’s also the fact that his flames are tied to his emotions. Probably why whenever we see Dabi he’s mostly irate and disinterested. But when he finally had to get infront of Endeavor and the world, Dabi lets all his emotions come out. Letting him use flash fire and be wary more gleeful in his destruction. Yet we see that any times he cranks up his emotions, he always starts crying. Like he did with Snatch and Hawks. Which is such a subtle touch that I love.

There’s also his unique resentment towards the women in his family more than Natsuo. Now Endeavor we know he clearly hates, but when it came to Natsuo, he ignored him. But he knew Rei and Fuyumi the longest, and they did nothing for the longest time.

We also see the beginning of Dabi’s use of faux concern about society and using it as a way to turn people on Endeavor. 

Dabi has stated he doesn’t care about the League of Villains. Even in his big speech about how its Endeavor’s fire that let him kill people, he knows that’s a lie too. He would talk about confiding in his beloved brother, but if it meant making his dad suffer, he would’ve killed him.

Dabi’s hate is for one man, and if he can use anything to make Endeavor’s existence a living hell, he’ll use it. And we see that his hate is justified, but he will wrap that hate in a way to get others to feel like him. Its very effective.

Its just nice to see a villain who gets a bunch of build up LIVE up to all his hype. Its not like a let down, its just opening more doors to explore.

And now we get to the Todoroki family. Where do we go from here? Well Dabi isn’t just an Endeavor problem or a Rei problem, its a family problem. They all share the burden and Dabi will be their goal.

And I like this because, for the most part, Shoto completed his arc in the Sports Festival of hating his dad, but then accepting this is his power and looking beyond Enji. And while that wasn’t the end as he still has to make his choice on wether to accept his dad as a changed man or not, that’s more part of Endeavor’s goal. Shoto has been sorta like Deku and Bakugo with a focus on being number 1.

But now he has real and true personal motivation that no one but this family can really address and I am excited. I’m glad that the prominent characters of this series like Shoto has something to do. I get that all the kids in UA will never truly get this treatment. They have focus, but they are still mainly supporting cast. But having a main character really be able to justify why they’re up in front is great. I’m eager to see what awaits the Todoroki family in the future.

[snowbird-down]

Tempus Hiems (Pt 2)

General ~83ish/Garlemald spoilers, so proceed at your own risk!

---

Laelia didn’t really have much of an appetite, but she wasn’t about to turn down Pater’s minestrone. It was more watery than usual and he’d clearly cooked it with canned vegetables, but – it was still savory and tomato-y and a welcome blush of warmth. A taste of Locus Amoenus; preserving their ancestral recipes: that’s what the Belisars had prided themselves on not so long ago, and here they were now, on a decrepit rooftop, still stubbornly clinging to those traditions. Pater spooned the soup into a metal mug -- something he’d clearly looted because it was too utilitarian to have belonged to the restaurant -- and plonked it into her hands with a lopsided smile.

In truth she’d accepted the soup purely to earn that expression. Out of the three of them, Pater looked the worst: his coat was tattered, and a linen wrap now covered two of his eyes, leaving only the right exposed. Verina was dirty and bruised but generally no worse for wear; Tacitus had earned himself a gnarly new facial scar, still raw, but the distance in his eyes suggested that his true wounds were less tangible.

“Sorry it’s not quite up to code, Sport,” Pater said, his good eye twinkling. “We went through the fresh stuff ages ago.”

“Hey, at least you have food,” Laelia said, with a small laugh.

“Why do you think we’ve defended this place so hard?” Verina asked. “Right now we’re more wealthy than the Emperor. We lost about everything in the kitchen, but the storage? We still have all the storage.”

Laelia’s eyes widened. The restaurant’s kitchen had always been a little cramped, leaving them to store all the non-perishables in the basement. If they’d managed to somehow hide the fact that they even had a basement, that meant that right now they were sitting on barrels of wine and olive oil, racks of salted meats, sacks of rice, sugar, and flour, and whole palates of canned goods.

“Nobody’s tried to raid you?” she asked in wonder.

“Oh they’ve tried,” Tacitus said, without turning. For now he was content to hover over the little stove they’d fashioned from a ceruleum bottle. A portable radio droned under its breath beside him. “Turns out Papa’s aim hadn’t rusted even after all these years.”

“So they stopped trying pretty quick.” Verina smirked. “Afterwards, I was able to start negotiating. Anyone who could bring us ceruleum or ammo got paid with food in exchange.”

Laelia lifted the mug to her sister in salute. “Only you could put your law degree to use during the apocalypse.”

Verina rolled a shoulder shyly.

“So you’re in contact with other survivors?” Laelia asked.

“Well…we were.” Pater spooned up his own mug and sat down heavily by the fire. “But little by little they lost ground to the Glory-Be’s and their machines, and most folk fled the city. We started having to look for ammo and ceruleum ourselves.”

“Is that where everyone else is?”

Pater and Verina looked at each other. Tension suddenly coiled through Tacitus.

“We…haven’t seen Marco since the scream,” came Pater’s quiet response, his gaze in the bottom of his cup. “Your Nonna sent him out to get some groceries that night and that was the last we ever saw of him. She was the one who first volunteered to start getting ceruleum for us once our supply was on fumes -- grabbed a kitchen knife and made the trek to and from Tapper’s Den countless times. Not sure what finally got her but one night she simply never returned. So then your grandfather went – insisted – but I knew he’d never get far on that leg, and he didn’t. After two trips he didn’t return either.”

The cup fell from Laelia’s hands.

Verina saw the look in her eyes and glanced away. “When Papa didn’t return with any ceruleum either, we finally ran out,” came her quiet offering. “It was a little while before we could get more, and…Mater got sick in the meantime.”

Tacitus punched the rooftop – a single shotgun blast of emotion. Laelia started. She’d never once, in all her life, seen her oldest brother lose his temper.

“If I’d had access to the hospital – to a clinic, a pharmacy – anything! Pneumonia. It was fucking pneumonia! A single bottle and she’d still be here with us, but I couldn’t do even that for her!”

“He and Pater searched everywhere,” Verina murmured. “And came back like…”

“Come on now, no brooding.” Pater forced a smile. “You saved me, Tas.”

Tacitus’ head vanished between his shoulders. “I couldn’t save either of your eyes.” 

“Good thing I had three!”

Tacitus did not respond.

Dead. Mother and Marco, Nonna and Papa, all of them…dead. Wasting away in the rime or buried in it, or wandering the streets like a corpse, bereft of agency and thought. Laelia fell forward and dry heaved.

Dead. Dead. Half her family, dead.

The last Laelia had seen her family whole was that fateful night. She was still in the capitol recovering from the wound she’d earned evacuating Baelsar’s Wall. The Legion had given her leave to return home, to recover while working at the restaurant. So she had. In those quiet evenings, she’d managed to take the first steps towards repairing her relationships with them all. It almost felt like – at some point in the future, anyroad – they could all be a normal family again.

But then came the Mad Prince and his purge. They came for the Populares in the night, and while Laelia was but newly-recruited, she didn’t want to take the chance that she could lead royal bootlickers to the Cucina. Instead she fled, raced for the hangars, stole the Delphinus, flew free. And with that, Laelia jen Belisar became a viator, undoubtedly to the shame of her family.

She’d been off doing fuck all in Eorzea while they suffered here – had been racing scrap heaps in the Hinterlands and fucking around with elezen nobles while Garlemald crumbled and burned. Her family had needed her and she’d abandoned them.

She never had the chance to apologize for her behavior in her youth, for all the things she said and didn’t say; did and didn’t do. For the trouble she’d caused. That night, she’d fled in such haste that she couldn’t tell anyone she loved them. Now she never could.

“Hey.” Father’s voice, soft and rumbly, jolted her from her tears. “You came back, Sport. That’s all that matters. Gives us hope that Irene will show up again too. All that matters now is that we’re together. From here we can make things right.”

“Make them right fucking how?” Laelia managed, her voice cracking.

Verina leaned in. “Word has it that Emperor Varis is still alive. Many people have reported hearing him over the radio. The Ist still fights in his name, and the Xth is on its way to bolster them. Together they’ll have enough strength to retake the city.”

“With…with what? Where are they getting their ceruleum? Or their food? The legions aren’t coming, you guys. That’s why Eorzea moved in.”

All three of them straightened.

“The savages are here?!” Tacitus demanded. “Of course. Of course they are! The moment we show weakness--”

“Tas, it’s not like that--” Laelia began.

“Look at all this!” He swept a hand out to indicate the city – to indicate the unholy tower behind him – his eyes blazing like lit ceruleum. “What do you think all this is? It’s magic, Lee! The savages laid this curse on us!”

“Will you shut up a second and listen to me?! Where do you think I’ve been all this time? I’ve been living with Eorzeans, they’d never do something like--”

“You just said they’re on our doorstep.”

“They’re here to help, asshole!”

She flinched the moment the words left her tongue; he flinched as though she’d struck him. Here they were, screaming at each other, when Tacitus had always been her best friend. Verina stared; Pater wilted.

“I think…we could all use some more soup,” Pater said at last. “And maybe a good bottle of marsala. Verina? Will you show your sister how to get into the basement?”

“Uh…sure. Yeah.” Verina stepped down from her roost and offered her rifle to Tacitus. He didn’t immediately take it, baleful eyes lost in the stove’s little flame.

Laelia bid Brutus to stay and rose to follow her sister.

But that numb, disconnected feeling she’d gotten while walking through the city had returned, and it ate her emotions whole.