#some might have better reach than others but godddd

[zours025]

Zombie au stuff i think its funny that this is a zombie au off of feelings only becuz i havent drawn a single zombie for it yet LOL.

arthur amputation wound under the cut blabla whatever

[08theverysmallhuman]

THANK GOD SOMEBODY IN THIS FUCKING FANDOM LIKES IGAGURI!!!!!!!!! OH MY GODDDD HE IS LITERALLY JUST A LITTLE GUY WHAT THE FUCK ARE HATERS SO MAD ABOUT!!!!!!! I thought the more recent scene with him and Isagi where he was given advice was incredible and I really hope we get to see more of him in future arcs still because he’s Isagi’s pal and first real rival!!! He’s silly comic relief yeah but he’s also genuinely likable and has a VERY heavy and real reason to be so driven and passionate to stick in Blue Lock! And I am SO happy seeing somebody else who likes him here FINALLY! FINALLY!!! THANK YOU

THAT MAKES WHAT. FOUR? IGAGURI ENJOYERS IVE SEEN ON HERE?? WHAT THE FUCK

FOR FUCKING REEEEAL !!!!! They're mad he's still in because it makes no sense well first of all he quite literally is established to not want to train if he doesn't have to and call him lazy and it doesn't make sense he's still in WHEN IN CANON he works hard enough to be good enough to run with the beasts blue lock is cultivating, to the point where he's actually straining his fucking body and injuring himself on equipment and throwing up???? Brother if you fall face first on a treadmill set to max you are not getting back on I don't know what to tell you. He's decided to train the thing he's good at, the same thing everyone else in the series is doing, the thing that Real Life Soccer Players accepts as an actual strategy and people are getting on his ass about it cause they can't fucking accept that he's a genuinely GOOD soccer player who's playing with actual superpowered geniuses

He's also like??? Really nice compared to some of these guys?? He talks a lot of shit but like it's comparatively tame and not really all that different from like regular team animosity? You got other people on this team saying some real out of pocket shit and you're on this guy's case about it ISAGI's ruder than this guy. He's genuinely happy for his friends when they reach a new level in their progress, he's comfortable asking them for advice and help with practice, he's literally isagi's hypeman on the field and he's cheering for every goal

It's literally just because they find him ugly there's literally no other reason. He's not even ugly he's bald but he looks fine dude he's literally living in a fucking temple what do you want from him. He might not even wanna look like this he very adamantly hates the thought of continuing to live in the temple let a man be

And yes his backstory is literally The most interesting one to me hands down I need to know what his home life is like I need to know his dad his mom his friends how he got into soccer in a reportedly strict shrine especially with his personality being like Super Not Buddhist, he prays to ask for stuff and not anywhere else, his jersey number is literally a reference to the 108 earthly desires Buddhists are meant to stay away from, that he specifically indulges in while he's away from home I wonder if he's used to being squished in a room with multiple people and that's how he finds such bizarre sleeping positions cause it's so open suddenly I need to know if he makes it out which he fucking better if he goes back I'm destroying all life on the planet let my boy go

Not even gonna get into the it shouldve kira argument I've said it a million times they only want him back because he's hot but kira was not fucking making it in blue lock . you want him to but he just fuckin wasn't maybe one day I'll get into it but you know in your heart of hearts Pretty Boy McSwaggy here was getting his fucking shit rocked

Igarashi Gurimu is a GREAT LIKEABLE AMD COMPELLING CHARACTER and just because he's not exactly bishie IT DOESNT MEAN HE'S A BAD PERSON?? Ive literally seen 'igaguri would be a pervert igaguri would be homophobic' he's literally one of the few people in blue lock who hasnt mentioned girls or romance bud. And my guy put up with shidou dude I think we're Fine

[mybunnyparadenme]

So I wrote this a while ago and only my friend Ashleigh’s read it so I figured I might as well let the rest of tumblr see it lol It’s something silly I wrote between chapters of a bigger project that WILL see the light of day soon I swear to godddd... 

Anyway, a brief summary! Mantequilla/El Pollo Loco angst, kind of an AU to the movie, but mostly just indulgent drama :3c If anybody wants the lore behind this ficlet let me know! Also I used google translate for the spanish bits because even though I’m literally mexican and speak it every day I’m just. Awful at it XD

The sun was setting over the horizon, taking the heat of the day with it, but still Mantequilla felt a line of sweat trickling down the side of his face. He was going to be late to the meeting, all because he had stayed with David and his family for longer than he should have... But it had been so nice to share a moment of peace with his friend, so he'd let himself get distracted by little Juanita and her dreamy stories of becoming a famous dancer when she was older and the war was over.

He and David had smiled and nodded along to the little girl's words and performances, but when their eyes met across the table, the look they shared was one of grim reality. The war had been raging since they were children, and showed no signs of stopping in the near future. Most days, Mantequilla didn't think there would ever be an end to it, the violence and the tyranny that came from up north. The States were hellbent on getting through their borders, and it was only through the endless efforts from resistance leaders like them that kept the worst of the fighting at bay.

Mantequilla sighed and let himself rest against the wall of a nearby bodega. He'd be busy organizing his people for the next few days, today's dinner his last reprieve for the forseeable future. It was hard, the long days and sleepless nights, sometimes so much that he questioned whether or not it was even worth all the work. But then he thought about David's daughter with all her optimistic hopes and dreams... things that depended on him and his resistance network to keep going. A brighter future for her and kids like her had to be worth it, right?

"It's rare not to see you running, conejito." A deep voice whispered in his ear.

Mantequilla nearly leapt out of his skin as he whirled around, his hand going into his pocket to pull out his trusty knife. HIs grip relaxed when his eyes landed on the face the voice belonged to, his relief too big to keep from flooding his tone, "D-Diosito Loco, I nearly killed you!"

"You didn't even come close, Mantequilla." El Pollo Loco said, reaching up to run his thumb over the flat part of the blade. "Don't tell me you're getting soft on me?"

"There's no room for softness in our line of work." Mantequilla murmured, his fingers itching to reach out and touch Loco's face. He was unmasked at the moment, a rare treat that he didn't get to see often. His golden hair stood out like a sore thumb, same as his, but Loco held himself so casually that no one would think to look twice at him. Mantequilla dropped his gaze for a moment, pushing down the fluttery feeling underneath his ribs. Loco was her on business. "H-Have you gotten the information I asked you for?"

"Yeah, I did." Loco glanced around the area with keen eyes, looking for spies listening in on their conversations as always. In their line of work you could never be too sure of who to trust. "I'll send the official transcripts to General Desorden, but the long and short of it is that they're planning on sending in more soldiers, but not like the ones we've been fighting lately. These are bad people, Mantequilla."

"We'll be ready for them." Mantequilla said, a familiar buzz of anxiety spasming through his hands. He pressed his knuckles together and rubbed them against each other, the friction keeping him grounded. "I won't have any more of my people taken from us."

"There's always casualties in war." Loco said, a sad look entering his eyes. No doubt he was thinking of his brother, fighting over on the State's side. Patriotism was a hell of a drug, one that Mantequilla was well aware went both ways. How many attempts had been made on his life by people who called him 'el gringo sin lealtad,' despite the fact that he'd chosen Mexico years ago? He'd been loyal to it's people, his people, and yet because he'd been born on the other side of the border, his loyalty would always be cast in doubt.

He would still fight for those people though. Because they deserved to see peace too.

"Some day it'll be over." Mantequilla said, dropping his gaze to the ground as he said it. He really wanted to believe it. He wanted Loco to be able to see his brother without fear that he'd end up with a bullet to the head for treason. He wanted to see Juanita dance on a stage in a country that wasn't ravaged by war. He wanted... The last rays of sunlight reflected off a window and illuminated Loco's hair, and Mantequilla felt his heart skip a beat. He wanted a future where he could casually run his fingers through that hair and be free to express his feelings instead of dismissing them as a terrible distraction.

"Tienes demasiada esperanza, conejito." You have too much hope. Loco reached out to touch his cheek, a soft brush of his knuckles that only lasted a moment. The only sign that he had the same feelings and fears that Mantequilla had.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and gave him a wistful smile. "Es todo lo que tenemos, mi pollito loco." It's all we have.

They didn't say anything else, and after a moment Loco walked away without looking back. His job was done now, and he'd only come back when Mantequilla needed his skills again. It was the only way to keep the feelings at bay, the distance both a blessing and a curse. The longing never left, aching just underneath Mantequilla's skin, but he knew how to practice out of sight, out of mind better than most people. He repeated it over and over like a mantra as he walked away from the bodega.

With Loco gone, he could focus on the path ahead. He had a meeting to get to, and a war to win.

[lihikainanea]

What if Bill and Tiger go to Sweden to visit Bill’s family. One evening, Bill and Tiger are in bed. Tiger is on top, riding him when suddenly the door swings open and in walks Gustaf. Oops! Tiger is so embarrassed but Bill laughs and laughs. What would happen next?

oh godddddddd, poor tiger. Listen, I sincerely hope that NONE of you ever have to experience the utter, horrible embarrassment of having somebody walk in on you. It is mortifying.

And part of me wants to take the easy way out here and say that Bill was on top and he’s huge so he probably covered most of her, but now you’ve gone and made me cringe with second hand embarrassment by telling me that’s not at all what happened and oh godddd.

Maybe it happened because tiger’s been a little shy for sexy times with Bill because they are literally just surrounded by his entire huge family and she thinks that not only will they hear them, but that there’s the potential for somebody to just whip the door open--not that it’s really something anyone would do, without knocking first.

Except maybe it’s some crossed wires. Maybe the entire family is out, but Bill and tiger hung back to just sit on the dock and enjoy each other’s company.  Except then they realize--they’re alone. For the first time in a week. And neither one of them have to say anything, they just exchange a look and then Bill is tripping all over himself trying to catapult out of the Adirondack chair he’s in and tiger is pulling at every part of him she can get a hold of, and these two idiots just trip their way into the house and up the stairs, all over each other.

Except Gustaf--who was off on a hike to write ~poetry~ by a secret lake-- comes back to the cabin, because he wants his headphones. And when they’re not in his room, he thinks for a moment--right, he loaned them to Bill yesterday when they were outside and Bill didn’t want to go and get his.

Gustaf thinks the house is empty, and Bill always keeps his door closed, so he just swings it open--and there’s tiger, booty shakin’, riding Bill like she’s in the fucking Kentucky Derby and he’s a prized stallion.

The poor girl. Poor Gustaf, gentle Gustaf who always just wants people to feel comfortable around him. Tiger launches off of Bill, dives for the covers and Bill quickly wraps them around her. Gustaf is gone so fast he leaves a puff of air in his shape in the doorframe.

And oh god, tiger is mortified. Bill wants to chase after his bro, ask him what the fuck he was thinking, but tiger is already crying and hyperventilating and he needs to make sure she’s okay first.

“Easy kid,” he soothes, “I know that was awful.”

But tiger just curls in more on herself, hugs the sheets tighter around her.

“Oh god,” she wails, “Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.”

“Tiger, stop,” he tries gently, putting a calming hand on her back but she flinches. She’s barely getting any air in, so Bill reaches for his pants on the floor, grabs her inhaler from the pocket. He holds it to her lips, steadying her with his hand on the back of her head.

“Deep breath kid,” he says, and when she tries to inhale he pumps a dose through. He gives it a second, cupping her cheek as he tries to talk her down.

“I know, tiger,” he soothes, but she’s still wheezing.

“Bill he...he saw...I was...he just barged in and I was...”

Bill gently presses his palm over her mouth to stop her rambling--she needs to focus on just trying to breathe.

“Stop,” he says firmly, “Just take a deep breath.”

She tries, and manages a deep enough one. He coaxes her into another one.

“Tiger, look at me,” he says gently. And her eyes are shifty but they flit to his eventually, and she lets out a little sob.

“I’m sorry that happened, kid,” he says. And truth be told, he’s actually....kind of relieved that it was Gustaf. Any other brother and it would have been much worse, but he’s not about to tell tiger that.

She whines again, a fresh set of tears wet her cheeks, and he swipes them away.

“Tiger I’m so sorry,” he says again, “But kid, look, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.”

But oh god Bill, you bonehead, that’s not what she wants to hear, and it just makes her cry a little harder.

“Bill I wasn’t just naked,” she wheezes, “We were...I was....oh god.”

Bill sighs--she’s got a point.

I’ll bet it takes a long ass time for him to be able to calm her down--maybe he tells her a few stories of some really embarrassing moments for Gustaf to try and help her feel better. Maybe he tells her that he walked in on Gustaf once, and whether to not that’s true is debatable--maybe he fibs just a tiny bit, because tiger is really freaking out and he needs to help her reel it back in. Either way, she’s by no means calm, but after awhile maybe she stops breathing so heavy.

“I’m gonna go talk to him, kid,” he says softly, “Do you want to come?”

“No.”

“Tiger, you should face him sooner rather than later, before this gets bigger in your head,” he says as he pulls his pants on. But she shakes her head vehemently. He turns to head out the room, and she grabs a hold of his hand so tightly it hurts.

“Bill, don’t mention anything about this to him. Not a fucking word,” she says. Bill looks at her confused--but just nods his head. Sometimes, he has to fib to her a bit for her own good. Being honest at this point would just make her worse.

And look, I’ll bet this is really not a big deal for Bill, or for Gustaf. Sex is so much more of a casual thing in Europe, and especially the Nordic countries where they just have a much healthier (in my opinion) view on sex. It’s something that everyone talks about, it’s something that everyone is open about, it’s just a natural part of life. The only reason Bill might be a little upset is because he’s a bit of a jealous bean, and now his big bro saw tiger naked and that makes Bill’s blood boil. But rationally, protective streak aside--he’s really not at all disturbed by it. So I’ll bet the conversation between him and big bro is pretty casual--just a light-hearted “knock next time, would you?” and Gustaf smiling wistfully, making a small joke that Bill should be thankful it wasn’t Valter who walked in.

But Gustaf, wise as he is, probably knows that tiger is a little less than comfortable with it all.

“Is she okay?” he asks, and Bill looks at him pleadingly.

“Can you talk to her?” he says, “She won’t talk to you first. She’s going to spend the rest of the trip avoiding you, actually--and that’s if she ever comes out of the room.”

Gustaf nods. And Bill’s right--tiger probably doesn’t leave the room for the entire day. Trips to the bathroom are an affair worthy of a spy operation--she scopes out the hallway, pastes herself to the wall, and sleuths to her target.

But look, Gustaf doesn’t ever want to make her more uncomfortable, but these things...they kind of need to be talked about. And tiger has to look him in the eyes again at some point, just for her own sort of...emotional healing process. But she’d also rather just avoid him for the rest of her life, which is precisely what she was doing that night when Bill finally dragged her out of the room for dinner. And when he threw an empty pitcher at her to make more sangria--tiger makes the best sangria, and it is capable of rendering all of the very big Skarsgard men into puddles of crawling, drunken drool--she heads into the kitchen and he juts his head at Gustaf to follow her.

And you know what? Oh god how I love the drama. Gustaf goes into the kitchen, and closes the patio door behind him. Tiger probably assumes it’s Bill. But Bill--Bill knows her, and Bill knows that her first inclination is always to run. So Bill quietly goes in through another door, and stands hidden at the entryway to the kitchen.

And when tiger turns and sees Gustaf, her eyes go wide. And she back pedals.

“Easy,” Gustaf says as he holds up his hands and tiger is struck with how much Bill resembles him in that moment, “We need to talk.”

But tiger is checked out. So she plunks the pitcher down, and goes to run out of the kitchen--but Bill steps out from his hiding place, and she runs smack into his chest.

“No,” he says firmly, and he flicks her nose. Tiger stares up at him pleadingly.

“Turn around,” he commands, and with big hands on her shoulders, he turns her around to face his brother.

“Look at him, kid,” he says, and just to make sure--he cups her face gently in one hand, squeezing her cheeks together as he makes sure her focus stays on Gustaf.

And Gustaf can’t help but laugh a little--because tiger is looking at him, her eyes all big and wide and scared, but her lips and cheeks are squished together like a fish.

“I’m sorry,” Gustaf says earnestly, “I didn’t mean to walk in on you. I can’t even begin to imagine how embarrassed you are, but there’s...there’s no reason for it. This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

And that’s the great thing about Gustaf. He doesn’t say shit like I barely saw anything because that’s a damn lie and he knows tiger would see right through it. He doesn’t make a joke about how his bro is a lucky guy. He just acknowledges how embarrassing it was for her, and reiterates that it’s not a big deal for him. It puts her at ease immediately.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she squeaks, through squished cheeks. She smacks Bill’s arm and he lets go.

“I know,” Gustaf says, “And I’m sorry. I’ll knock next time. Deal?”

He holds his hand out. Bill shoves her forward and she turns and smacks him. He just winks at her.

“Deal,” she sighs, shaking his hand.

[curioserandcurioser]

attempting to get my life in order pt 1

i am feel so suffocated. i read somewhere that when you’re anxious, or stressed, or whatever else, it would help to write it all down and try to solve individual things. i guess that does make sense, except that i am way too lazy to get a pen and a book to write it all down, and nor would i be able to write peacefully. 

also, i get to listen to music this way. 

i guess i am just tired and i want to just be able to do nothing and to have no responsibilites. but nooooooooooo. maybe i reached my limit, finally burned myself out after all those days of obsessively remaining productive. now i feel like i have a mountain of work to get done and i know that i’ll not be able to deal with this and it’s freaking me out. also, my family is just... i can’t wait to go to school and get away from them. 

school is a major thing. with the exams coming up, saying that i had a bit of extra work would be a really big understatement. i have MONTHS of notes to catch up on and probably a million tests that i should be studying for right now rather than writing this stupid blog thing. 

then there’s my friends. no matter how much i say it doesn’t piss me off, it’s making me more mad than i care to admit. it’s making me want to cry. it’s not fair. i haven’t really talked or seen them for more than once. and the two of them get to meet, while i go to school as a loner. again. i really overestimated how close i was, or how much i mattered and i’m really mad that i didn’t see it earlier. 

i guess i could just ignore all this and it’ll just fix itself on its own. i just want to stop thinking about it. 

the thing i REALLY want is a break from my family. the best way i could achieve that is by throwing myself into some sort of work, pretending that i am ‘busy’ and hoping they will just ignore me or give me space. 

okay so i’m gonna make a list of things i might do today:-

1. do the things i was gonna do for my friends birthday, specifically, the video to say how much she matters. (see this is another thing. i don’t like this. i want to do something for her MY way. i don’t want to be part of this... other thing. i guess the sooner i get it out of my way the sooner it will be over)

2. study?? write?? or i’m just going to pretend like i am. also, i need to get ready for school tomorrow. andddd i have a class tonight. i also need to prepare for the upcoming exam. 

3. family things that my mom wants me to be a part of it. unfortunately, i cannot ditch that. and i wonder where my anxiety is coming from. 

godddd writing this is not helping me. i need to finish the 1st thing before 3 hours. i guess that that’s enough time, it’s just that i don’t know what to do. 

so first thing i’m gonna do is complete all the things i don’t wanna deal with. and the family thing, just try not to think about it i guess. i say ‘i guess’ a lot lololol i think its because i’m really not sure about anything. okay how about i make a list of things i’m sure about?;-

1. i could make the video thing in an hour or less if i give it my everything.

2. and the class that i have tonight will also be a good distraction and i really do not dread that. 

3. i will NOT have the perfect start tomorrow at school and i will not have any of my friends with me; the sooner i get that into my head, the better. 

okay bye i’m just gonna go ahead and try my best not to kill myself. 

[icypantherwrites]

An open letter to my VLD and Langst fans

Hello everyone ♥

I’m not really sure how to start addressing this so I guess I’ll just write and see where it goes (because hey, once a pantser always a pantser ;p). Apologies if this gets super long.

I know I’m not alone in noticing that Voltron has fallen very very much so in popularity since season eight came out (and to be honest, it’s been declining since about season five-ish). Nearly all of the friends and regular readers I’ve enjoyed chatting with in this fandom have disappeared; be it from moving onto another fandom entirely, quitting writing or reading fanfiction (or both), or just vanishing into the night and it really sucks from this end to lose those friendships and relationships.

I’ve noticed a significant decline in engagement on fics. Not just comments (although believe me, those are down too xD) but even just in hits. A fic that would normally generate at least a thousand hits doesn’t even get half of that. An update gets even less than that half. It’s beyond frustrating and disheartening here and I can’t imagine how other authors who are a little less prolific are feeling from this fallout.

Posts on Tumblr, despite the fact I post to over 2,000 followers (a milestone reached the other week, thank you for that ♥), are barely engaged with, not even with likes. 

It hurts me to say it but it’s true.

Voltron is a dying fandom.

There are still pockets of it that are vibrant and thriving to as much degree as they can, but they are not ships I support nor content I’m interested in. The gen fandom, the Langst fandom, the whump fandom, has been steadily fading away. I didn’t want to admit it but I can’t ignore it any longer.

And I understand. The way Voltron ended (like Game of Thrones xD) is not the ending a series that has meant so much to so many should have concluded with. It left a bitter, sour taste in many mouths, turned a nostalgia to a resentment and made fans pull away. Fix it fics and art can only go so far when a fandom has been so alienated by its own kind and there is no canon resolution to fixing anything. 

Voltron has meant so much to me. It brought back my love of writing and made me a much better writer to boot. It introduced me to some amazing people (and although I don’t talk to like... any of them anymore I hope everyone is doing well and has found a passion that is deserving of your talents and time). It and the readers and their comments got me through some really tough spots in my life where I felt very trapped without much light at the end of my tunnel. It’s something that, no matter how much I too disliked many elements of the final seasons, that I do look back on fondly. I have so many good memories of the Voltron fandom, of my own experiences in writing for it. 

I think that’s why I’ve been stubbornly planting my feet and thinking that if I just took a long enough break, if I just published a fic that would resonate with people like Color or Sin did, if I just held on that this fandom would come back.

But it’s not.

And as much as I wish it would, it won’t. 

So what does this all mean?

Honestly, I’m not sure. I still love writing for this fandom, even if posting it is beyond depressing at this point as I see (or rather, don’t) all the people who used to read my fics and aren’t there anymore, the lack of hits on the chapters, the comments, even the Tumblr notes. But it’s no one’s fault. Everyone has just moved on. 

And for right now... I’m still going to stay here. At least for a while longer. 

I have over... probably about 150k worth of fics left to post that are made up of chaptered fics and oneshots. I still have people interested in being a subscriber to my Patreon (to which I say thank you so so much, especially in light of all the medical issues my dog has been having, every little bit helps) and even commissions coming my way. I’ll probably keep writing so long as there’s decent interest over there and since I’m still generating fics via its monthly fic and any commissions that come my way I’ll have things to post on Ao3.  As such I’ll keep promoting it here as it does depend on all of you to keep both it and apparently my fanfiction future alive. 

But anything else?

Probably not.

I had debated doing a round two of a zine, of offering a short story type book of smaller chaptered fics for the holiday season. Not sure anyone would really be interested in that now. 

I’m not sure I’ll be finishing my Season 8 fix-it fic because knowing the lack of audience and reception it’ll get for hours upon hours of work makes me sad. Spending that amount of time writing a fic for an audience that really isn’t there anymore and at this point probably doesn’t care makes me have to re-prioritize.

Fanfiction in general isn’t the part of my life it was a year ago. I don’t read it anymore. I don’t need the comments to buoy me through a horrible work day as I love my new job. I love my coworkers. I’m hoping to retire here, honestly (in 30 years, Godddd, just double my current lifespan xD). If I were to devote time to writing I think it’d be great to work on my novel; not with the desperation of before as I saw it as my only ticket out of the Police Department, but to enjoy writing it and just have fun with it. 

I’ll be here for as long as the Patreon is active and as long as I have fics to post. You might see some weeks where there are two or three fics or updates posted and then a few weeks of nothing as I still struggle with the lack of engagement (even though I know not to expect as much.) I’ll still post on the Tumblr and am still happy to answer asks about Lance and Voltron and writing and whatever may have you. 

I just have to start really acknowledging what this fandom has come to and prepare for what is going to happen. And this letter is starting it off to not just all of you but to myself. 

Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me; both in the past and now. Thank you to those who still do so. 

I’ll see you around.

♥ Icy

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[delia-pavorum]

#38 + university enemies turned lovers AU please!

Prompt #38 AKA “You want to explain the drunk voicemail you left me last night?” They weren’t exactly enemies and they don’t quite reach lovers, but—well, just read it. 

Enjoy!

The buzzing woke her up.

It was incessant, like a mosquito flying around her ear. Or drilling into her brain.

With an audible groan, Rey threw her arm out towards her bedside table, hitting a (luckily empty) glass of water, her eight-dollar IKEA lamp, and a small dish of loose change, before grasping the instrument of torture that had awoken her from what she assumed was only her third hour of sleep. Glancing at the time as she clicked her screen, she confirmed that this was, indeed, the case.

Groaning again, she blearily focused on the message preview that assaulted her senses as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of her dorm room. In her periphery, she could see Rose shifting in her bed, before letting out a soft snore and continuing her slumber. Lucky bitch.

You want to explain the drunk voicemail you left me last night?

Rey did a double take and peered more closely at the message before glancing up at the name.

Ben History.

Ben? History? Ben Hist— Fucking TA BEN?

“Oh, my godddd.” Her third groan of the morning turned into a long, drawn-out, verbalized moan as she died a little inside.

Fucking TA Ben.

Professor Snoke’s assistant from her Russian History elective last semester and - she was convinced - the reason she passed that course. Though, admittedly, it wasn’t as if he had outwardly shown any sort of inclination or preference towards her in any way.

Not in tutorial, when he looked down his nose at whatever question she asked and answered with a barely stifled sigh preceding any dialogue.

Not in class, and particularly not when Professor Snoke had reamed her out in front of the entire lecture hall for falling asleep with her head in her hand (thank you job number two, the night shift at the university pub) and he had just sat there in the corner, barely adjusting his glasses as he read over papers.

And not outside of class, where she never saw him. Ever.

No, it was a fact. Mr. Solo AKA Ben History AKA TA Ben was a dick. For all intents and purposes, he had never for even a second belied anything less than purely professional - and for the most part barely cursory - interest in her.

Except for her papers.

Ben Solo was a notoriously hard marker. Rose and Finn had devised the idea of taking Russian History, instead of the more popular Sociology courses, the previous year (yeah, Rey was late on the uptake with her humanities electives, what of it) and had subsequently bitched about TA and professor both; but Rey, always up for a challenge (some may call it pigheaded, willfully ignorant, inability to learn from her mistakes or the mistakes of others—) decided to give it a shot, too. Just to prove she could.

Ha.

Twenty-page research papers on the rise of Moscow, the destruction of the Soviet Union, the Cold War. End notes, works cited, bloody footnotes to her footnotes. It had been pure torture. But she had worked her ass off on each and every one and, in the end, had reaped the benefits.

Er, somewhat. While her peers were receiving grades of Cs and lower, she was coming out with Bs and the occasional B+. The comments were standard, mostly critical: arguments she could have improved on, syntax issues, exclusion of the Oxford comma (who bloody cared about the Oxford fucking comma), and so on. But then, in the end, the same line every time, scrawled in a haphazard cursive, the letters flowing together in a pleasingly desultory way:

A pleasure to read.

Those four words did something to her. She, who could count the kind words she’d received in her lifetime on her fingers and toes with socks on, who had always been the kid that nobody expected much of, who had always - at most - gotten a blinking, surprised: “Oh. Well done.” when she had accomplished anything in an above-average way, had felt a little sparkle of pleasure every time she got the bottom of the last page and saw that line.

And, since her childhood abandonment issues all but guaranteed a fucked up, overcompensatory response to anyone who showed her even a modicum of attention or kindness, she had obviously developed a monster crush.

In short, Ben Solo had ended up being the one good part of a shitty class. He marked her fairly and, as a bonus, was nice to look at and listen to and imagine all the filthy things she’d like to—

Oh god. Oh god. What had the voicemail said?

With shaky hands, she opened up the message and read it over again five times.

Drunk voicemail. Drunk voicemail.

Why couldn’t she remember calling him? All TAs had their phone numbers at the top of the syllabus along with their email address and office hours, but as far as she knew, nobody had actually called one. At the beginning of the semester, around the time she had gotten her first paper back from him, she had plugged the number into her phone - just in case - giving him the surname History to denote her association with him (the same way fellow contacts were Rose Roomie, BFFinn, and The Douchebag, a friend-by-association that Finn had recently become infatuated with).

As to why she couldn’t remember calling him—

The answer, if her pounding head wasn’t enough evidence, manifested further as Rose loudly snored again and rolled over, smacking her lips together and mumbling to herself.

They had gotten wasted last night. End of semester finals plus “We’re losing Finn to Poe” blues plus impromptu Girls’ Night plus plus plus, and she had ended up puking in the garbage cans outside their building while Rose cheered her from behind like garbage can puking was an Olympic event and Rey was on her way to a gold medal. (Which, for the record, she would have won).

She must have made the call at some point during the later part of the evening, but before the vomiting, when she was already three Jagerbombs deep, plus countless tequila shots and some whipped cream monstrosity called a blow job or a muff dive or some other, equally vulgar and heinous name–

Practically frozen in terror, she scrolled through her recent calls.

Fuuuuuck.

Sure enough, right at the top. Ben History. Three- no four times dear god. At 3:06, 3:07, 3:10, and 3:22 (ah, yes, Rey, a twelve-minute gap. Make him work for it, as they say.)

Did she leave four voicemails? Just the one? Somewhere in between? What did they say? What did they say?

“Kill me,” she prayed to the ceiling. “Please. Just do it. Kill me now so I don’t have to deal with this, ever, in my godforsaken life.”

I’ll do you one better, God responded, probably, because instead of being struck by lighting, a call came through.

Ben History.

She laughed mirthlessly up at the ceiling - still maintaining your track record with me, eh ol’ boy. Glad some things don’t change - before scowling as she looked down at the name on her buzzing phone. Might as well get this shit over with.

She rushed out into the hallway to answer so she wouldn’t wake-up Rose. The corridor was completely empty - it was only just past seven A.M. after all and it’s not as if her and Rose were the only college students on campus who had the bright idea of drinking to celebrate the end of Finals - and Rey answered as she continued to walk through the dead hallway and out the door.

“Hi,” she said, mournfully. Too late for pretences now, anyway.

“Oh.” The responding deep voice sent an inadvertent shiver through her body. “I actually wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”

“Yeah.” Rey stepped out into the cool, misty April morning air, briefly regretting her decision to not grab a sweater as goosebumps rose up on her bare arms and legs. “Your, er, text woke me up.” The panic and humiliation spiral immediately afterwards also helped shake off the remnants of sleep. I may never sleep again, in fact.

“Right. Well, I thought you’d want to know—”

“Listen,” Rey cut him off, partially for fear of whatever he had to say and partially to say her own piece before he could verbally eviscerate her and/or threaten her scholarship and the progression of her degree or whatever else happened to errant, drunken students who called their former TAs and left explicit voicemails. “I’m sorry I called you and said all that shit, I was completely wasted. I know it was wildly inappropriate. And it’s not like—” Fuck, what are some of the insane things I probably said? “—I mean, you’re obviously very attractive and tall and built and I mean, yeah, you’ve got unbelievably good shoulders and I’m sure I brought up the fantasy of you carrying me in your arms shirtless, but the truth is—”

“Rey.”

Her name out of his mouth brought her up short. In tutorial she had been—what, Ms. Johnson? Or usually just nothing. A nod or “yes, you” in the general vicinity of where she was sitting. He knew her name?

“You know my name?” Smooth.

An abbreviated sigh. Ah, yes. If there were ever any doubt as to who was on the other end of the line, this telltale moderation of his annoyance eliminated it completely.

“I know your name,” he confirmed. “And the voicemail you left me didn’t say anything about my—“ A pause. “—shoulders.” Another pause. Rey’s skin began to get that prickly feeling that usually preceded the wash of utter mortification coursing through one’s body. “In fact, you barely said anything at all. After I picked up my phone the fourth time it started ringing at three A.M.—” Ah, yes, hello humiliation, my old friend, she thought at the liquid heat spreading through her limbs, “—at first all I could hear was indecipherable yelling and then someone loudly singing the chorus of ‘Living on a Prayer’.”

“Oh, god.” Her horror manifested in the loudest groan conceivable at this revelation. Pieces of the night were starting to filter in now, penetrating the haze of her hangover- and humiliation-induced migraine.

“I almost hung up, but then you came on the line. Initially I couldn’t understand you, but then you said something about me being the bright spot to a shitty class and how you loved being my pleasure—”

Rey hiccuped in despair. Why couldn’t she have just talked about his shoulders?

“—Which I didn’t quite understand. But then you said—” He paused again, almost as though he needed to gather his thoughts, and Rey held her breath at the infinite possibilities of self-inflicted degradation that were to come, “—you moved to a quieter area and you said thank you to me for making you feel worthy. You said it felt nice to know that your efforts weren’t for nothing.”

Cool. Cool cool cool. They still had engineering programs in Siberia, right? She wondered if her scholarship was transferable. Fuck it. I’ll just move to Florida. Maybe a crocodile will eat me.

Grasping at straws, Rey responded, “You know, I actually don’t remember any of that. I think maybe I didn’t call you at all. Maybe it was my friend Rose playing a prank or—”

He cut her off: “At the end you said ‘by the way, this is Rey Johnson.” Fuck. “And, regardless, I recognized your voice.”

Hey, now. He did?

“You did?” Uggghh.

Silence.

“Okay, er,” Rey began as the silence stretched out to unbearable lengths, “well. It is true that I liked your comments - your final comment, always - on my papers. It is also true that I like your shoulders. I’m not sure who told you anything about carrying me shirtless—”

“You said that.”

“Regardless of how these rumours get spread,” she continued through gritted teeth, “I sincerely apologize for calling you at such an obscene time, er, repeatedly, and also for assaulting your ears with Bon Jovi and the drunken ramblings of a psychologically-damaged pseudo-adult—”

“I liked your papers, Rey,” Ben interrupted and, for the first time, he sounded a bit - thawed. Unsure. Not warm, exactly, but not really holding back either. “You were the only one who got that comment at the end and I meant it. That course is—I mean, it’s two hundred-level, but with no prerequisite and we get a lot - a lot - of students who just couldn’t give a shit. And I know History isn’t your program and that you probably just took it to fill an elective, but I—” A pause and an inhale. Then: “I’m glad you did.”

Rey thankfully stopped herself just short of responding “You are?” and instead, a little breathlessly, answered: “Me, too.”

“Your efforts weren’t for nothing,” he added, quietly. “Not to me.”

“Oh, Ben.” It was the first time she had said his name out loud and she heard his breath catch slightly.

“Where are you right now?” he asked, his voice a touch hoarse.

“Uhh…” She looked around at the outside of her building, noting ruefully the garbage can that likely still held her vomit. “I’m just outside my dorm. In my pajamas.” She involuntarily shivered as she once again became aware of the damp coolness of the morning air, now that the steam of mortification had waned a bit.

He clucked lightly under his breath, mother-henning ever so slightly, and the warmth came back. “It’s cool out, you should get dressed. And then maybe—” He broke off.

“And then maybe what?” she breathed, feeling her cheeks flush.

“Well, you’re still a student, but I’m not your TA anymore and technically I’m a student, too, although I’m much - like a lot - older, but maybe—”

“But maybe what?” she urged, unable to stop the smile from splitting her face.

“Maybe we can grab a coffee or something?” he finished in a rush. “We don’t have to talk about Russian History.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Rey deadpanned.

Ben huffed out a laugh. “In fact, let’s talk about anything but Russia.”

“Or Bon Jovi,” Rey added, chagrined.

“Or my shoulders.”

“Hey, now,” Rey protested. “Let’s not be too hasty.” He let out a genuine laugh and she couldn’t help but laugh in return.

“So.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “What do you say? Is it a date?”

“Oh, Mr. Solo.” She grinned back at him, hoped he could hear it, too, loud and clear. “It would be my pleasure.”

now what? –> see all my prompt fills | fic master post | ask me anything

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 018: Please Don’t Cut His Dad in Half

Previously on BnHA: Ochako showed that punk Kumogiri what’s what. Iida managed to escape and get help. Bakugou and Kirishima hung out together for a few pages. Aizawa was basically fucking tortured, but somehow still saved Tsuyu’s life and I’m planning to name my firstborn child after him. Deku used One for All without dying. All Might finally showed up after seven years to kick some ass.

Today on BnHA: All Might storms in to save the day, but ends up in over his head. Or under his head. There is a whole suplex thing going on which is compounded by the usage of portals. It’s really fucking weird. Deku tries not to do anything stupid but then almost does something stupid. Kacchan, Todoroki, and Kirishima descend onto the scene looking way more badass than a trio of 15-year-olds has any right to be.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 27 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.) 

oh we have another one of these little side chapter things like what we got with the last volume change

actually, there’s not much here, but this little bit is worth a gander

MISMANAGING FIRE MEANS MISMANAGING LIVES!!!!

these quirks are fucking wild sometimes. did this guy’s hands really turn into water spouts back when he was four. or is that just part of his costume

I suppose if he can control water then he can just make water hands like that lady from The Legend of Korra. idk, I myself like having hands. my own human hands which I have just two of and no extras and which don’t disintegrate anything I fucking touch

Thirteen is such a little cutie, I want a plush of them

that’s about it so let’s move on now

NEW VOLUME COVER

Todoroki makes his cover debut! and surprisingly, so does Kirishima! I guess we’re gonna get some more hijinks with these two. excellent

(ETA: I actually felt like they got only minimal hijinks in the end, but it’s still nice to see them getting that cover recognition)

Facepalm also makes his cover debut. could have done without tbh

I see you in the top left corner there Bakugou

YOU AND I NEED TO HAVE WORDS SOMETIME, CALEB COOK. AND YOU, MIKE MONTESA

looooool what the sunshiney hell is this

I note that this volume is called All Might! that sounds promising

this thing Deku’s riding in is wearing enormous fucking shoes for absolutely no goddamn reason

some sort of steampunk medieval chicken in doc martens

“this is no time to be drawing mixed-up junk like this!” I just. I don’t even know

IT’S A GIANT CHARACTER GUIDE. I OUGHTA PRINT THIS OUT AND PUT IT IN MY POCKET

look at all these fucking hands

Iida getting dangerously close to Nazi salute territory there. just... be careful, Iida

no fucking thank you, table of contents. keep your spoilers to yourself!

finally the actual chapter!

ALL MIGHT DIDN’T EVEN COME BECAUSE OF IIDA? HE WAS ALREADY ON HIS WAY BECAUSE HIS HERO INSTINCTS TOLD HIM HIS SON WAS ABOUT TO BE CRUSHED BY SOME MUSCLE LORD WITH NO SKULL

THEN HE RAN INTO IIDA ON THE WAY!!

IIDA YOUR HANDS ARE A TREASURE

LORD ALL MIGHT MUST HAVE FREAKED THE FUCK OUT

(ETA: I don’t feel like my initial reaction conveyed just how much I loved this part. what I love about All Might -- one of the many things I love about him -- is his empathy. he genuinely cares so much, not only about everyone’s safety, but also about their well-being. like, he doesn’t just want to keep people safe; he also wants them to feel safe, and he goes above and beyond to reassure them that everything will be okay. he doesn’t just go out there and save people, he also inspires courage and strength in others.

and he’s so upset here when he hears about everything that happened. but even now, he barely shows it on the surface (Deku is the only one who notices he’s not smiling), because he knows it’s not what the kids need. and if you look at how everyone reacts, at how the kids’ fears are immediately put to ease and they all feel like the day has been saved -- it all just goes to show that it works.)

ALL MIGHT I’M SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU BUT ALSO SO, SO GLAD TO SEE YOU

“my colleagues did their best” somehow that sounds strangely patronizing which I don’t necessarily appreciate, given all the shit that Aizawa in particular has been through today. THEY FUCKING DISINTEGRATED HIS ARM, ALL MIGHT. HIS FUCKING ARM. AND THEN CRUMPLED IT LIKE TINFOIL

oh shit I just noticed that

“I’ve been waiting, hero. you’re worthless trash.” whoa now. do you want to die fast or slow, son?

everyone please look at the way All Might is skipping down these motherfucking stairs

and apparently this is striking fear into the hearts of these men

actually he seems to have trampled like six people on his way down the stairs, so maybe their fear was justified

and now he’s checking Aizawa

:|!!

my god Aizawa is soooo tiny compared to AM in his full-blown superhero form

(ETA: okay so when I watched the anime version of this I noticed that All Might calls him “Aizawa-kun”, and I don’t know why but that just wrecked me even more. it makes me wonder how well they actually know each other? or if All Might might possibly be older than him?)

(actually, how old is All Might, anyway? his muscle form is pretty hard to judge, and his Skinny Steve self doesn’t seem that old, but if Aizawa is 30 and Might is referring to him as -kun, then he’s at least the same age and most likely older. I’m guessing mid-thirties, but that may just be because I want to date him)

he just kinda plops him onto his shoulder and turns to face the remaining bad guys

OHHHH DAMN

BETWEEN THIS AND HIS LACK OF SMILE AND THE WAY HE JUST RIPPPPPPPED OFF HIS TIE EARLIER, I HAVE TO CONFESS THAT ALL MIGHT IS DOING THINGS TO ME IN THIS CHAPTER, YOU GUYS

OH SNAP I THOUGHT HE WAS GONNA TEAR THE VILLAINS A NEW ONE, BUT INSTEAD HE SCOOPED UP ALL OF THE CHILDREN AND IS CARRYING THEM TO SAFETY

HE’S TELLING THEM TO GO TO THE ENTRANCE AND GET AIZAWA SOME MEDICAL HELP

HE’S SO COOL. HE’S SO FUCKING COOL, YOU GUYS. I WOULD FEEL SO SAFE WITH HIM OH MY GOD

BUT HE DOESN’T KNOW YET THE EXTENT TO WHICH THESE GUYS HAVE PLANNED THIS WHOLE THING SPECIFICALLY TO GET TO HIM

whaaaat... the fuck...

Facepalm’s hands appear to be talking to him?????

“father...” WHAT. EWW. WHAT

“state-sponsored violence” motherfucker are you serious right now, you were about to murder two dozen innocent children and now you’re gonna go off on All Might about him being some kind of government-owned thug? don’t you dare disrespect MY symbol of peace

“you’re fast... but not as fast as expected��� oh fucking shit

this is still creepy, don’t get me wrong. but after a few chapters of him doing it once every fifteen pages, I think I’m starting to get used to it

now Deku is frantically trying to explain to All Might just how dangerous these guys are

“One for -- I MEAN, MY ATTACK” jesus Deku. I guess he can be forgiven considering how stressful the circumstances are

All Might keeps saying “fear not”, but the more he says it the more I start to worry that maybe we should be fearing :/

Carolina... well, okay, I’ll count that one as a coastal state (technically two states). still the south, but at least we’ve got ocean!

this smash is very cool-looking but sadly not very effective

“seriously?” lol AM being so shocked and exasperated is more humorous than it rightly ought to be

Facepalm says that Noumu has shock absorption abilities. “if you really want to damage him you’d be better off slowly ripping him apart piece by piece.” hoh-lee shit. what a thing to say

and of course we all know All Might is totally the type of guy to just go ripping people apart limb from limb whenever the occasion calls for it. that’s why he’s known as the Symbol of Ripping People Apart Limb from Limb

-- wow dude I was being sarcastic. you think you know a guy

now he’s slamming him into the ground. how is that going to do anything against a guy whose powers were just established as being shock absorptive, All Might

I do not like the way Deku is carrying Aizawa here at ALL

his arms are fucked up, Deku. please be more gentle!! you of all people should know a thing or two about fucked up arms by now!

they keep glancing back at All Might. we’re all worried about All Might, kids

I’m glad Deku seems to understand that they’d just get in his way if they went back and got taken hostage again, though

but unlike his classmates, he knows that All Might is close to reaching his limit

goddamn it, now they’re flashing back to All Might’s line in the first chapter about smiling to stave off the fear

well. I did ask the universe for All Might angst, now didn’t I

he is not looking too hot

son of a fuck now Kurogiri has gotten involved in the mix once again

this... this is it. officially the weirdest image ever put to paper

I can’t stop staring at it

I can’t believe events in BnHA transpired in exactly the right way to make this image a reality

it’s like those fucking paradox stairs in Inception

fucking amazing

oh SHIT I just realized Noumu’s grip around All Might’s torso is dangerously close to where All Might’s secret wound is

oh my godddd

ugh he’s just enduring it and thinking “cut it out”

both he and Aizawa are just SO FUCKING STOIC in the face of what has to be unimaginable pain and I just can’t!!

Kurogiri says he’s going to close his warp gate on All Might while he’s still halfway through and cut him in half?!

that was their plan? seriously?

why the fuck are they explaining it

fuck, it finally got to be too much for Deku

he’s turning back

DON’T CUT MY DAD IN HALF

aaaaaaaand here comes the feels train!!

I think what got me this time, even more than all the usual stuff (crying Deku/running to save All Might/being afraid of losing him/not having a plan but not caring/doing something stupid and brave out of love), is the fact that there were so many panels prior to this where Deku was repeatedly trying to convince himself that he couldn’t go back, that it would be stupid and dangerous, and that he had to trust All Might. the fact that his mind knew what the “correct” decision was, and he was doing his best to try and follow that, but in the end he just couldn’t go against what his heart was screaming at him to do instead

in fact, if I may, I’d just like to point out the parallels between this scene and the All Might scene a few chapters ago, when he was on his way to work but kept running into people who needed help. and even though he knew there were others who could take care of it, and that it would only make him late and wear him out and use up his already-limited Allotted Daily Hero Time, he fucking helped them anyway, because HIS heart wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise

basically what I’m saying is that they are two of a kind and too goddamn pure and precious for this good earth

-- HAHAHAHAHAHA

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS

HAHAHHAHAHAH

YOU GUYS. I DIDN’T SAY A SINGLE THING THIS WHOLE TIME, BECAUSE I SO BADLY WANTED SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO HAPPEN, BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO JINX IT, OR RISK SOUNDING STUPID, BECAUSE I KEEP BRINGING BAKUGOU INTO THESE THINGS EVEN WHEN HE’S NOT REMOTELY INVOLVED, BECAUSE I HAVE A BIT OF A FIXATION WITH HIM, YOU MIGHT HAVE NOTICED!! BUT DON’T THINK FOR A SECOND THAT I’D FORGOTTEN ABOUT HIM WANTING TO GO AFTER THE VILLAINS, AND ANNOUNCING THIS IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER, AND THE FACT THAT HE’D BEEN ABSENT FOR A LITTLE WHILE AFTERWARDS! AND THEN, JUST NOW, THE FACT THAT DEKU WAS ABOUT TO BE TOTALLY SCREWED IF SOMEONE DIDN’T JUMP IN TO SAVE HIM AT THE LAST SECOND. AND WITH AIZAWA AND THIRTEEN INCAPACITATED, AND THE OTHER KIDS HEEDING ALL MIGHT’S ORDERS AND GETTING THE FUCK OUT OF THERE, PRETTY MUCH THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD DO SOMETHING AT THIS MOMENT WAS BAKUGOU

WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY IS THAT I SHOULD BE SURPRISED AND DELIGHTED, BUT IF I’M COMPLETELY FUCKING HONEST I’M NOT SURPRISED AT ALL SOMEHOW, BUT YOU’D BETTER BELIEVE I AM FUCKING DELIGHTED AS HELL

JUST. :D :D :D!!!!!!!!!

YES I DID ORDER FEELS ON THE SIDE!! THANK YOU EVER SO MUCH!!!!

somehow this just seems so very awkward

I’m sure that when I reread this later, or watch it in the anime, I will have some idea of what the hell is actually going on. but for now, Kiri’s here as well, and one or both of them is doing something to Noumu, and that’s just swell

oHHHHHHHHH. the reason I didn’t understand it is because there’s a third young chap who’s also just appeared in the nick of time who I didn’t realize was there at first!

Kacchan looks like he’s having the time of his fucking life. this kid was born to bust villain chops

Kirishima still looks SO DAMN MUCH like Mikoshiba Momotaro to me. they’re both so cute too

Todo looks like Zuko and Hibari’s lovechild as always

Kacchan! you other two people!!

well then, villains. how do y’all feel about taking on a few more high schoolers? fair warning that these ones are just slightly less intimidated by you than the last group

gotta say, this is a much better chapter to go to bed on than the one I fucking read 24 hours ago (16), goddamn

and I did write “Kacchan saves Deku” on my wishlist a few chapters back, but this is less angsty than I had envisioned, and is in fact really hype and badass. I guess that’s just the way Kacchan likes to do things. can’t say I’m really all that put out

BONUS:

“someone who could bring the different members of the class together and bridge gaps” sooo... what you’re saying is... Yamamoto. he’s Yamamoto

no wonder people ship him with the closest thing to Gokudera this series has so far

I didn’t even notice he had a scar over his right eye. and of COURSE it comes with a long and detailed history

I really like the story, though. I honestly wonder how more of these kids didn’t accidentally maim themselves when their quirks first manifested. I still think about Thirteen’s quirk, and to be honest that shit is terrifying

those are some sneakers. looks like that auto-lace shit from Back to the Future

[tumblunni]

Bunni plays Richard and Alice, and gets an ending, and DIES INSIDE, WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK

* okay seriously i was COMPLETELY WRONG about every expectation i had, holy fucking shit

* In the end the final flashback was EVEN WORSE than I ever expected, oh god i wanna throw up! I don’t know if things could have gone differently due to my choices, but the way it went down this time was just... oh god... “I am gonna bawl my eyes out if Barney dies” HEY YOU KNOW WHAT’S EVEN WORSE THAN THAT?? He was dying and his mother had to mercy kill him so he wouldnt suffer What the fuck, what the holy everyloving fuck jesus christ god no The only choice i had in the matter was that i gave him back his toy car to hold while he fell asleep, and then it appeared on his grave at the ending and i got a few extra lines of continuity hoping that Barney is going on an adventure with Daddy in his big ol car... Fuck fucking christ god no oh godddd

* and like HEY LETS JUST RUB SOME SALT IN THE WOUND apparantly the grave we were visiting all this time was empty cos nobody could even find her husband’s body so like.. she doesnt even have the consolation of knowing they’ll be together in death

* oh and DEAR GOD there was a REALLY ATMOSPHERIC scene before it really fucking surreal and confusing oh god you’re just left with the dying barney sitting there on the floor and no choice and no items except your gun and i knew right them what i was supposed to do but i tried to leave and backtrack and find anything that could help and then all you can do is return to that empty church and find that it isnt empty anymore there’s some weird nameless faceless grandpa hiding in the confessional booth, and you can talk to him about this horrible horrible story and your horrible horrible choice and you never get to actually see who he is or anything but i choose to believe he actually did want to help, and all.. the conversation with him helped it be a little less painful at least

* and then you just go back to the empty grave marking your dead husband, and you have a horrible scene of her breaking down and yelling at him cos she knows he’d believe she’s stronger than this, and he’d tell her not to kill herself, but she really wants to die if she has to take her son’s life and god, she talks about how she attempted suicide once before from depression back when they first married, and he saved her from doing it, and now she wishes she could have died back then and never brought her son into the world if he’s just gonna suffer like this oh godddddd

* and then we get back to the present day and its all ‘aww richard really cares about you’ and ‘oh that silly richard being a comic relief’ and ‘hooray we managed to escape’ and then THE BIGGEST FUCKING EVIL PLOT TWIST HOLY JESUS FUCK

* richard i have never wanted to reach thru a screen and strangle a man more than this moment jesus fuck

* mr purposely vague ‘oh im just a generic good guy’ protagonist was lying THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME and god its even worse cos like all of his personality was still real he’s a sick fuck who THINKS he’s a good guy, and tries to be all friendly like, and just like.. compartmentalizes it away in the back of his head and pretends he hasn’t committed this damn sin, that he still counts as good if he’s just ~polite~

* FUCK SERIOUSLY MAN I have never been so terrified to hear the word brussel sprouts! I didnt even think to mention the brussel sprouts line back when I heard it! you just hear one of the gang members mention some stupid folksy idiom about brussel sprouts during the flashbacks I should have fucking known it was richard, it fits with his goddamn fake good guy persona! he slips up and mentions it after you leave the prison, he doenst know you heard him say it before GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU YOU SICK FUCK

* and like.. well.. at least it seems I was wrong about the cannibalism. Or at least, as far as richard knows they werent doing that to the victims. But it feels like he didnt know or care what happened to the people he kidnapped, all part of his strategy to put it out of mind and pretend he’s still the good guy... But GOD thats kinda EVEN WORSE that we dont even know what they were doing to the victims! Richard says they were ‘kept in relative comfort’ and compares it to being in this prison. ‘At least they had food and clothes, they wouldnt have that outside’. YEAH BUT YOURE FUCKING KEEPING THEM AS SLAVES AND POSSIBLY *SEX SLAVES* AND GOD JESUS FUCKING CHRIST And we get a partial answer to what happened to the kids from that diary. Apparantly Lucy was (for some reason) valued very highly as a slave, so much so that they’d actually pay the expense of finding insulin to keep her alive. Thats what makes me think it might have been sex slavery, i mean.. they’re valuing this one child slave higher than the rest. The other theory is that maybe Lucy was actually Richard’s daughter that he mentioned as his excuse for working for this gang, he says he was ensured that his family would be kept safe as long as he sacrificed other people... God its so fucked up. And then he tries to justify it to Alice by saying blablabla we do what we have to do to survive and morality is relative and ohhhh we’re not the bad guys i mean they’d suffer more if they died in the cold compared to living longer in pain and slavery AND YOU KNOW WHAT THE WORST PART IS???

* i got THE FUCKIN WORST ENDING, JESUS CHRIST somehow my choices during my first run led to an ending where alice agrees to join richard’s shit gang i cant even blame her for it, she was fuckin mentally shattered by having to euthanise her son and then she had a scrap of hope with an apparant friendship with an apparantly moral man and then he fucking turns out to be this sort of shit and she has no reason to keep going and i suppose this is technically ‘good’ cos she decided to live, but she also decided to be led away by a manipulative fuckass and join an evil slavery cult and god she probably feels like she’s already a ‘sinner’ cos of what she did to her kid so she belongs with them GAHHHH this is a story of a villain who’s convinced he’s good, and a good person who’s convinced she’s a villain! T_T

* I hope I can find a better ending to this...

* I hope there’s an ending where richard gets bitchslapped in the face with a two-by-four

* Seriously did i just get this ending because I tried to act like a decent friend to Richard and then just SUDDEN TWIST he was evil the whole time and GAHHHH

* fuck you richard fucking fuck you dont deserve top billing in the title