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loving-barnes · 11 months ago

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LOGAN HOWLETT - WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY

A/N: Here comes chapter FOUR! Oh wow. It's easier when I do this for fun. I don't feel that much pressure to write and put it out regularly. I think the pace of releasing new chapters will slow down soon, but I hope to finish this at least the way I want to.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: violence, blood

Summary: In Salem, Logan and Y/N have the opportunity to save the boy.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 5200+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Three

LOGAN HOWLETT - WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY

The sky turned dark blue, and the moon showed high up. Y/N’s eyes were locked on it, watching as it illuminated the whole world. She found nights to be her favourite - calm, peaceful. Everyone’s soul would rest as their heads would travel into the dreamland. Then again, sleeping was difficult and unpleasant when nightmares entered uninvited.

“What happened today?” Logan brought her back to reality with the question. “Why the tears?”

She exhaled, annoyed by that question. “I talked with the Professor,” she said, not looking at him. “He told me about slipping from Cerebro. And I know you know.”

His eyes never left the road. “I know. We all do. He didn’t tell us why it kept happening.”

Y/N turned her head to him and observed his focused face. His hands were resting on the steering wheel. “He discovered the reason.” Logan looked at her for a brief moment. “It has to do with my mutation. In his words, it is all about protection. Somehow, it shields my brain from telepaths or any mind infiltration.”

“I thought he read your mind,” he was confused.

“He did,” she nodded. “Until he couldn’t again. My mind decides for itself, it seems. One moment, you can come in and have a peak, and then, the doors close, and you are left standing outside in the cold.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I already figured out other things. I am dumb and naive,” Y/N scoffed. “That realisation hurt like a bitch.”

His eyes were back on her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? You are not any of those things.”

She had to laugh. “Oh, if you only knew how many stupid things I did in the past. You’d then know that I am right.”

“We all make stupid things,” he commented. “I have my own fair share of them.”

Y/N shifted in her seat and turned her body to see him better. “Ah, will I learn something new about you?” she narrowed her eyes.

“Only if you tell me more about your stupidity,” he grimaced at her.

The smile disappeared from her face, and she lowered her eyes. The gear lever became more fascinating than anything else around. “My ex-boyfriend sold me to the lab,” she said timidly.

“What?” his foot pressed on the break, the car coming to a halt. There was a stop sign that he almost didn’t see. “What the fuck?” He turned left on another road and continued driving to Salem.

“I was barely nineteen when he found me and gave me a roof and food. He, Mars, was the leader of the group - Void.” She wasn’t ready to tell the story out loud. The fear of him judging her would be unbearable. Charles was sympathetic. Not a hit of judgement came out of his voice. Maybe Logan would be the same? “I’ve spent there almost four years before it went to shit.”

“Void? It sounds like Magneto’s ‘Brotherhood’,” Logan stated.

“The Void consisted of mutants and humans. It was basically a criminal group. We would steal money, cars and do all sorts of shit,” she shook her head. “I am not proud of that part of my life.”

“What happened?” he was curious.

Y/N huffed and closed her eyes. “Mars, such a weird name, could hypnotise people, manipulate them as he liked. He was a mutant. I didn’t know about it. Many of us didn’t. He used it to his advantage. He would force people to do things for him, even torture innocent people.

“At this point, I cannot be sure what was my own doing and what was his. All I know is he had me in the palms of his hands. It took some sweet nothings and a little attention, and this bitch,” she pointed at herself, “fell for him.”

“So, you were in love,” Logan said after a while.

“I think, I don’t know. Let’s say I was, but it was one-sided. Mars used me, used my power to protect him. He gave me some attention and fell for it.” She bit her lower lip, nervousness spreading over her body. “During that time with him, I did unspeakable things.”

Logan noticed it was difficult to talk about that part. She twiddled her thumbs. “Why did he sell you to the lab?”

Y/N scratched her nape. “When I found out that he was a mutant and what was his ability - yes, it took me four years - I wanted to run away and never look back. Of course, being the stupidly brave woman I am, I went to confront him. Mars was one step ahead of me.

“The last thing I remember was hands holding me tight, pulling me away from him. They got me off guard and injected me with a drug. When I gained consciousness, I was locked in a cell. And thus started my five-year life as a lab rat, moved at least seven times around the country.”

“Damn,” said Logan.

“Dumb, blind, naive - that’s all I can say about myself. Lessons were learned. I thought about killing him, you know? A person like him doesn’t deserve to live. Who knows how many girls he had used since he sold me?”

“If you had the chance, would you?” Logan asked, curious to know the answer to that.

It took her a minute to admit it. “Yes. I would.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and took out a black hair elastic. Her hands worked fast, and she brushed her hair into a bun. Some strands framed her face. When her eyes found Logan staring at her, she gave him a faint smile. “You must think I’m crazy.”

“Not at all,” he admitted. “I’d do the same thing. Hell, I did it in the past. I killed people who used me and betrayed me. The list of people whose life I ended is long. I promised myself I’d never kill again. I quickly realised that’s not how it works in this world.”

“You’d do anything to survive,” she added after that. “I did. You know the saying - I’d kill for love. And I did. Uh, maybe. I don’t know. Whether I did or didn’t, it doesn’t matter. There is blood on my hands. I have to live with that.”

A gas station came into their view. Logan turned the car and parked on a free spot next to the building. “I’ll fill the tank, and then we can continue.”

Y/N unfastened the seatbelt and stepped outside. She stretched her limbs. She went inside the building and bought two water bottles and a chocolate. As she was walking out, her eyes captured Logan filling the tank. Her eyes travelled over his body, admiring how well-built he was. Out of nowhere, her lips slightly curved up. There was a warm feeling in her lower stomach and even excitement. Where did that come from?

He noticed. Logan saw her standing behind the glass door, holding the bottles and smiling at him. He flared his nostrils and moved his eyes away. Logan moved inside to pay for the gas just as Y/N walked out to the car.

She put the bottles and chocolate on the roof. The smell of gasoline lingered around the place. One cigarette or a match, and the station would explode. Where was her mind going with this?

“Hey there, pretty girl.” Two unknown men approached her. They were tall, one was bold, and the other had short dark hair. “Wanna hang out?”

She hated this. Why did men need to talk to women when they were not interested? She glared at them. “No, thanks.”

“Oh, come on, sweets.”

She squinted at them. “I think you have trouble accepting when someone says no.”

“Mouthy,” one laughed. “I like that.”

“I suggest you leave me alone before-”

“Before what, sugar?”

Logan walked out, and his eyes fell on Y/N and two douchebags talking to her. “What the fuck?” he mumbled and walked straight to her. Instinctively, he stood behind her, giving the men death glares. “Can I help ya, fellas?”

Y/N could feel Logan’s body heat radiating. He stood close to her, his front almost touching her back. She smirked, loving how the men’s faces paled. They stepped back.

“I thought so,” Logan’s hand rubbed Y/N’s right shoulder and then walked around the car.

Y/N winked at the men and stepped inside the car, smiling. She looked at Logan, who already had a cigar in his mouth, lighting it up. “Thanks.”

“Eh, don’t mention it,” he said.

They had another hour and a half before they reached Salem. Either they were silent, or they talked about random things. Y/N could still feel Logan’s touch on her shoulder, lingering there gently.

“Will you tell me something about you?” she asked an hour later. “I told you about my stupidity. I’d like to know more about you. That is if you are willing to share.” He smiled and rolled his eyes. “You’ve said you killed a lot of people. Can you tell me more?”

She noticed how he flinged. She must have hit a tough spot. Y/N wanted to apologise. Logan decided to tell her more. “I’ve seen wars, fought in them even.”

“Wars?”

“First World War, Second World War,” he answered.

Y/N’s mouth almost fell to her lap. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I was born in 1832,” he announced. Watching Y/N’s face change a few times was amusing.

“No shit,” she didn’t believe him. “You cannot be over 170 years old. You look not older than 35.”

“I ain’t lying, bub,” he grinned at her.

Y/N’s mouth kept moving. No words came out. Many thoughts were running through her mind. Her whole body turned to him. “Okay, it makes sense when I know about your regenerative healing factor. I didn’t think it would make you immortal.”

“I wouldn’t say I am immortal,” he took a drag from the cigar. The air filled with its heavy smell. “I once was a boy who grew up, and then, the ageing slowed down until it stopped, or I think.” When he looked at her, Y/N’s mouth kept hanging open. He put two fingers under her chin and helped her close her mouth. “Careful, or something will fly in there.”

Their eyes met. Logan’s fingers rested under her chin longer than necessary. When he pulled away, she wanted to scream to put them back there.

“So, both wars,” she tried to resume the topic.

He wrinkled his nose. “Civil war, Korean war.”

“Holy shit.”

“Here’s the thing - I don’t remember much. At some point, before I even came to the school, I lost my memory. Charles helped me restore some. There are big chunks of my past I still don’t know. I have concluded that it’s for the better.”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she said.

“No, it’s fine,” he waved a hand. “If you can share bits and pieces, so can I.”

When they arrived in Salem, it was after midnight. Logan decided to park the car farther away from the lab. It wouldn’t be wise to drive all the way there. Once they left the vehicle, they walked through a calm residential district. The lab was around a ten-minute walk from there.

The air got colder, and the moon got lost behind the clouds. The wind rose. There were signs it was about to rain.

“We’ll keep it simple, Y/N,” Logan started to talk, explaining the plan. “We will look around the perimeter and map the surroundings. We count the guards and the security cameras and then leave.”

“What if-”

“No,” he stopped her. “I will not let you risk your life without a back-up. Last time, the place was packed with armed men. I don’t think that changed since then.”

There was no point in arguing. “Fine.”

When they approached the facility, the place looked almost similar when she left it. There was a part of the building demolished. It used to be her escape window. One of the locked mutants wrecked that side with their ability. And yet, it brought her a lot of unpleasant memories. Her stomach turned upside down.

Together, they moved around the demolished side until they were met with an entrance gate. “What the shit?” Logan mumbled. At the gate were only two men with guns. “Last time, there were twenty of them,” he stated. “The roofs were covered with them. Now nothing.”

Shouting came out of the demesne. Then, there was the sound of an engine. Logan grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her to him, making them hide behind a thick tree. He kept her close while they watched a military truck exit the facility.

“The boy is not here,” Logan stated. “This place is not what it used to be a few weeks back. It’s strange. We got satellite pictures a few days ago, and this was still a highly secured facility.”

When the truck was gone, they moved forward. The wall that surrounded the building was destroyed in many places. They would be able to get with ease. Y/N’s eyes travelled around the building. She knew a way in. She could still remember the interior.

“We should go. The boy is not here,” Logan ordered, reaching for her arm.

“No, wait,” Y/N stopped him. “I think this is the perfect opportunity to go inside. So far, there are not many guards. The lab, where they kept us, is underground. At least, that was a month ago. We have the perfect opportunity to look around.”

He gritted his teeth. “I told you I will not risk your life. It is dangerous.”

“Then stay here,” she talked back. “I’m here. I need to know. Even if it is only a little bit.”

Y/N started to run away from him, heading to the fallen wall that was not guarded by the men. Logan cursed under his nose. What was he expecting? That woman was stubborn as hell. Before he lost her, he decided to follow her. His conscience wouldn’t let him let her go alone.

Y/N was careful when she entered the estate and ran to the demolished part of the building. Peeking inside, she saw a destroyed room filled with bricks, wood and damaged furniture. The interior was dark. There was nothing useful for her. Her eyes noticed light coming from the other side. It was a hallway leading further into the compound.

Her feet automatically took her there. She walked over the bricks and stones until she reached the hallway entrance. If she remembered correctly, it led to a security room.

A hand gripped her above her elbow and pulled her back. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Her eyes found angry Logan standing close to her.

“There is a security room down the hallway,” she whispered. “We will be able to see more.”

“I am so pissed right now,” he growled. “We had a deal.”

“If I see a chance, I will take it,” she spat back, trying to keep her voice low. “Now let me go. Please. I must know more.”

As much as he hated it, Logan let her go. His claws got out, ready to be used if necessary. Logan walked close behind her, protecting her back. They reached the end of the hallway.

“Shit,” she cursed. There were dead bodies on the floor, covered in blood. It felt like a slaughter room. The scent of copper hit her nose, and she wrinkled it. She observed the dead bodies and discovered they had many bullet wounds on their bodies. It was all fresh. “We’re not alone.”

Logan started to sniff the air, sensing something was off. Y/N approached the screens and looked at all the cameras installed around the place. There was another military vehicle outside that they didn’t notice. More men surrounded it. They wore different uniforms than the dead men in the security room.

“They are here for something,” she commented as her eyes drifted from one screen to another. “They are here for JJ,” she gasped when she found a screen with JJ’s cell.

Logan got to her to see with his own eyes. The eleven-year-old was sitting in the middle of a cage, visibly distressed. He had a white gown on. No other mutants were present. As they watched, they saw men come to him, pointing guns at the innocent child.

Unexpected. That’s how it could be described. How was it possible that the last time Y/N saw him, they wanted to take him away, and now, he was here? None of this made sense.

“Shit,” Logan gasped. He pointed at one of the soldiers who was closest to the camera. “They work for Trask. If they take him, he’ll sure be dead by the end of the week.”

That was the push Y/N needed. Logan didn’t have the chance to react when she ran away from him, heading outside to the other military track. She was sure it was waiting there for JJ.

Anger filled her veins, her whole body. Last time, she couldn’t help him escape. He got her out. She was too weak to return the favour. This time, Y/N was determined to get him out and destroy anyone who would dare to stop her. The deal she made with Logan was out the window.

Y/N ran outside but hid behind the closest corner, watching. She waited for the window of opportunity. At least ten men kept guarding the vehicle. The back door was opened. Her heart was beating rapidly. Adrenaline was high. Fear knocked on the back of her head, telling her to run away and never look back.

She potted JJ coming out of the building with a thick collar around his neck. The boy was almost bald and alarmingly bruised. Two big men guarded him by holding his shoulders from each side. Another three men were walking behind them, guns ready to shoot him in his head.

What can she do with her protective power? It has some offensive moves, Y/N remembered the Professor’s words. They echoed inside her mind. She thought back to when her ability turned deadly.

One last breath, and she ran towards the heavily armed men. The moment they discovered her presence, their guns were up, pointing at her. Y/N wrapped her body into a protective shield and rammed the men with it.

Bullets were pointless. They weren’t able to penetrate the protective veil of blue. Y/N turned on her heel and faced the rest of the men. As much as they tried, no one could get through the forcefield.

Two men grabbed JJ and moved with him away from the fight while the rest of them did everything in their power to kill Y/N. She kept knocking down the men like a house of cards. And then a roaring shout came from the right side. Logan’s claws penetrated the men’s bodies, slicing through them. Some managed to shoot him.

“No,” Y/N shouted. For a moment, he forgot he was indestructible. And yet, she worried about him.

The usage of forcefield was draining her energy fast. The more she held it on, the weaker her body became. She ran towards the men who got JJ. “Let him go!” she screamed at them. “He’s a child!”

They threw the boy on the ground hard, making him cry in pain. That’s when Y/N noticed the colourful bruises around his face, arms and legs. He looked sick and beaten. The gun was now pointed directly at his head. “Make a step, and I will kill him in front of your eyes!”

Y/N didn’t make a move. Her eyes were fixed on the boy. “Let him go,” she said through gritted teeth. “He’s just a child. An innocent child that hasn’t lived enough.”

Once Logan killed the last man, he walked closer to Y/N and the men. His adamantium claws were covered in blood, as were his t-shirt and the unbuttoned flannel shirt. When he discovered how the boy was close to being shot, he stopped in his tracks, breathing heavily.

“Y/N,” JJ whispered her name. Tears gathered in his eyes. “Y-you came for me?”

It broke her heart to see him like this. “Of course,” her voice shook. Her eyes moved back to the soldiers. “Let-him-go. I won’t ask again.”

“No,” the soldier said strictly. “If you want the boy to live, you will let us leave with him.”

The forcefield started to glitch a little. Everyone noticed it. Y/N had to focus harder to keep herself protected. One mistake and she could end dead.

“What do you want with him?” Logan asked instead.

“That’s none of your business, mutant,” he barked.

Y/N thought about her next move. Her head turned to bloodied Logan, who was breathing heavily. His body was ready to fight. The veins popped out of his neck and forearms. She sighed. Y/N got them into this mess, and she didn’t know what to do.

“We need back up to Salem’s lab,” her ears registered one of the men talking to a walkie-talkie. “We have two other mutants on our radar. They are trying to get the boy.

Her eyes blinked a few times. She didn’t have much time left. Y/N kept breathing through her nose. Deep inhale and long exhale.

“Y/N,” she heard Logan’s concerned voice.

Focus on the object you want to wrap in the forcefield and send the energy flying to it. That’s what the Professor told her last week during her training. Picture it. Project the vision onto it.

Her eyes locked on JJ, who was shivering on the cold ground. With that collar around his neck, he looked like a slave. She could feel his fear. All she wanted was to protect him, keep him safe from this fucked up world. Her right hand stretched forward. In her mind, she pictured the boy wrapped around the veil, protecting his soul and body.

That’s when she felt the energy leaving her body and covered the boy in a light blue and silver veil. For the first time, she created a forcefield around another person. When it happened, the man shot a bullet at him. It got absorbed into it.

It was Logan’s cue to bolt out of his place and kill both of those fuckers who dared to hurt Y/N or the boy. Blood splashed around them, covering the grass and Logan. It took him a few slices, and it was over. Every soldier who wanted to kill them was dead.

“Fuck,” Logan cursed and retracted the claws back under the skin. His eyes moved to the forcefield wrapped around the boy and glitching around her. She created two at the same time.

Y/N’s eyes got heavier. Something warm tickled her upper lip. She broke the energy. The veil disappeared from her and from the boy. She exhaled the last breath she held. Her knees gave up, and she fell to the ground. Her head was spinning. She felt this weak before when she escaped the lab.

“Y/N,” Logan called her name when he fell to his knees next to her. He ran to her the moment she went down. He lifted her head and noticed her nose bleeding heavily. His big hands brushed her cheeks. He put a strand of hair behind her ear. “Look at me, bub. Come on, look at me.”

“I’m,” she started to talk but failed. She gulped loudly and took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he wiped the blood with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. It didn’t help much. “Can you walk? We need to move. More will come. We must leave.”

She blinked a few times. “Yeah, I guess. Get JJ, and we can go.”

Logan helped her to her feet and made sure she was stable. He turned to the boy who was kneeling on the ground watching them. “You alright, kid?” he eyed the child, checking if he wasn’t bleeding as well. Fear was evident on his face. “I will not gonna hurt ya,” his voice got softer.

JJ got up on his feet and ran towards Y/N, throwing himself into her weak embrace. “You came for me,” he cried.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” her voice broke, and she kissed his head. “You are safe now, JJ. Logan and I will take you to a safe place.”

As much as he hated to ruin the moment, Logan stepped to them. His ears registered the sound of helicopters in the air. “We need to move. Now.”

Y/N grabbed the boy’s hand, and they ran away from the facility and into the woods. Logan was two steps behind them, making sure they were moving. His eyes were more fixed on Y/N than on the boy.

Suddenly, her body bumped into a tree. She had to stop and take a few breaths. Everything was shaking, and her vision got blurry. “Shit,” mumbled. She looked at the boy, then at Logan, frowning. Why were there two of each?

The woods spun in front of her eyes. It took her a few seconds before she pushed her body off the tree and moved. Her hand never let go of JJ. This time, Logan’s arm found her waist. He kept it there for support. He didn’t want her to fall or hurt herself anymore. He could smell how drained she was. Logan held her until they reached the residential district.

“You good?” he asked her when they slowed down.

“Just weak,” she replied. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve never held the forcefield for this long.”

“You projected it around the boy, also. That’s a huge step,” he patted her shoulder. “I’m still pissed at ya,” he added.

“Sorry, not sorry.”

Logan turned around, eyes scanning the woods behind them. His instinct told him to move and leave. He smelled more soldiers searching for them. To their luck, the car was closer than anticipated. He unlocked the car and opened the door for the boy. “Get in,” he ordered.

Y/N climbed into the passenger’s seat and closed the door with a loud thud. She moaned. The sound was too painful. Once Logan got in, they were on their way away from Salem and back to the school.

The tension inside the car could be felt until they were far away from the residential district. All of them relaxed when they connected to a main road.

Y/N reached for her backpack and took out her denim jacket. She took off her hoodie and handed it to JJ. “Put this on so you’re not cold.”

“Thanks,” he sniffled a little and grabbed the hoodie. He was only wearing a thin white robe covered in dirt. His legs were exposed, and he was bare feet.

Logan saw what she was doing, so he turned on the heat inside the car. Y/N grabbed a bottle she bought at the gas station and handed it to JJ. Then she gave him a piece of the chocolate. “Here, drink and eat some chocolate. It’s all I have now.”

She watched him from the rear-view mirror, drinking the water and eating the chocolate. Her shoulders relaxed, and she exhaled loudly. As if the stress escaped her body when she saw him alive and well.

“Everyone’s gonna be pissed,” Logan stated after a while. His eyes were on the road, here and there, checking the boy in the mirror.

“I don’t care,” Y/N whispered. Her body rested against the car seat, eyes closed. “We didn’t plan on this.”

“Sure,” he scoffed.

“No, we didn’t,” she opened her eyes and glared at him. “I would have left if it weren’t for the fact that soldiers from Trask came for him. Besides, if I didn’t intervene, we would have lost him forever.”

“You don’t-”

“You said it yourself,” she snapped. “If they took JJ, he’d be dead by the end of the week. This was our chance. I don’t care that you are upset, disappointed or whatever. It had to be done.”

Logan hit the steering wheel out of frustration. “Goddamit, Y/N. It was reckless to head inside without thinking. It could have gone to shits if there were more men.”

“Enough,” she stopped him. “It’s done. We have him. He’s alive, and we made it out of there. End of story.”

Y/n turned her head to the other side. It was a sign that the conversation was over. She noticed a faint reflection of herself in the window. There was dried blood under her nose, lips and chin. She tried to wipe it off with the sleeve of her denim jacket. It didn’t work much.

“W-who are you?” they heard the boy’s soft voice. He was still afraid.

“Logan,” he said.

“Y-you have claws,” JJ stated. “So you are like us, right?” Logan only grunted. “Where are you taking me?”

Y/N turned around and faced the boy. She put a smile on her face. Her hand reached for his cheek and stroked it. “We are taking you to a safe place for people like us. It’s a school for mutants.”

“School?” his eyes sparkled. “There is a school?”

“Yes,” Y/N nodded. “You will be able to live there and learn. Many children are living their lives there. They helped me, too. Logan saved me when I escaped the lab.” Her eyes filled with tears. She tried to hold the cry but couldn’t. “I’m sorry I left you there. I’m so sorry, JJ.”

His smaller hand reached for her hand on his cheek. “It’s okay. You came back.”

“No, no, it’s not,” she cried. “You got us out. I will be forever thankful for that. It upsets me that I couldn’t do the same for you that day. It took me a month.”

Logan felt the pain in Y/N’s voice. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold himself back and not reach for her. The anger he felt was gone. Logan wanted to put her into his arms and protect her whole being from the world. When he saw the tears running down her face, he sighed. His right hand reached for her face, and his thumb wiped off the tears under her left eye.

Her eyes met his. The touch was gentle, filled with something unspoken, new. “He’s fine. We got him out.”

All she managed to do was to nod.

“How long until we are there?” Jerome asked.

“Four hours,” Logan answered when his hand left Y/N’s cheek and turned his attention back to the road. “Rest, kid. We have a long way ahead.”

He wrapped his arms around his body, trying to warm himself faster. Y/N’s hoodie helped. He even put the hood over his head. It yanked the collar around his neck. “What about this thing?”

Y/N observed the device. There was a small green light. It meant it was on. “We’ll figure it out once we are at school. They will get it off you.”

“What does it do again?” Logan asked.

“It suppresses our mutation. JJ cannot use his power while the collar is on,” Y/N explained.

“I can use the claws to slice through it,” he suggested.

Jerome’s eyes widened, and he gasped. “No,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “It’s dangerous. We don’t know what would happen if you’d try to destroy it like that.”

“Okay. We’ll let Hank and Jean have a look at it. They will figure something out.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Logan Howlett x mutant reader #Logan Howlett x mutant female reader #Wolverine #Logan Howlett #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #A touch of Hope #Marvel fanfiction

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spaghettioverdose · 5 months ago

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people are discovering I'm an evil tankie lmao

anyways the second one is particularly dumb. you speak of the concept of ml transfems like they're this wacky sort of weird rare position that no one really has. are you aware how many popular posters on this site are transfem MLs or transfem ML adjacent? moreover, based on what do you know that MLs are the most transphobic people on the left? like not talking about a subreddit or a discord server, or even CPGB. I'm talking about the movement as a whole. and if there is, a trend where marxism-leninism is especially transphobic (hint: there is not) is that due to the ideology itself being inherently transphobic or is it the people living in particular material conditions that lead to them holding out reactionary ideas?

I could bring up a million arguments to refute this like the incredibly progressive new family code in Cuba, or East Germany's progressive LGBT policies, or how people were already lamenting how many rights they were going to lose from the reunification, or the general trend of modern socialist states to make gains when it comes to LGBT rights and protections, but this has been brought up a million times and you are all still stupid.

Tell me anon, who am I, as a transfem, supposed to side with politically? Liberals who have all shown to be willing to throw us under the bus in record speeds if they believe it might get them three more votes? Anarchists who are utterly incapable of forming any kind of cohesive movement, incabable of holding powe for longer than 2 years, and incapable of organising the economy in any that helps anyone? Am I meant to become a trotskyite or a leftcom so I can whinge about stalinism all day and never do anything useful? What ideology should I fucking be anon? I've was a liberal and I was an anarchist and they both were shit. And believe it or not, anon, anarchists aren't as inherently good to transfems as you think either.

But besides even all this, you deeply misunderstand why I'm even an ML. I believe that marxism-leninism provides a scientific lens through which economy and politics can be analysed to produce analysis with actual predictive power. This is a quality that is very much absent from every non-marxist ideology. Every newer liberal economist that suddenly discovers a basic function of capitalist economy and who is then lauded as a genius, has been playing catch-up with Marx and they're still very far behind. Keynes discovered the concept of "in an economy that runs on commodities being bought, when no one has money to buy said commodities, the economy collapses" is something that scientific communists knew for since the later half of the 1800s. Marxism-leninism is the only form of leftwing ideology that has been effective. Marxism-leninism, when applied, has almost universally raised the standards of living, industrialisation, life expectancy and women's rights. I'm not an ML because I think of ideologies as sports teams, cliques, or fun little labels to add to myself.

#asks #anon

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ghostchems · 6 months ago

Text

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part five

art by the incredibly talented @piaart!

author’s note: finally have this finished but man is it hard to be satisfied. i keep wanting to work on it and work on it but i also really wanted to get this out! also don't even know if this is good teehee. lots of awkward here. 4.9k words. part one/two/three/four. ao3 linky.

The date is going surprisingly well. You chose an Italian spot (ha!) and have had your fill of lobster ravioli and Cabernet Sauvignon all while you learned more about Dylan since he graduated high school. Went to a state school in the middle of bumblefuck, drank and drank some more, got overly into the college culture (emphasis on cult) and tipped a few cows in his time. It aligns perfectly with the slivers of information Catherine gave you through the years, though he’s mentioned nothing of the steady college girlfriend he supposedly had. Interesting. You laugh at his dumb jokes. You’re smiley. But it does feel like an act that’s partially fueled by alcohol and having someone’s attention on you.

He’s still talking but you’re admiring his small, button nose, how his brunette locks shape his face and his bright smile. You can’t help but think his face is a little too smooth, though. Has this boy been through anything meaningful? Has he suffered at all in his shiny little life? Your mind drifts back to Terzo’s rough hands and how they felt on you earlier that day. He forced you to your knees and it was clear that it wasn’t the first time he’s done so. You can still taste him on your tongue.

“You haven’t told me about your job! Aren’t you like an assistant?” Dylan snaps you out of it and you offer a shy smile.

“Yeah! I had to get out of that call center, man. It was like draining my life force. Not that this isn’t difficult but it’s nice to not be yelled at by some rando on the phone for hours a day.” You toy with your glass of wine.

“So, like what do you assist in? Is it just you?”

Huh. You’ve never really explained exactly what you do to anyone. Not even Catherine or Erica — you only really focused on Him. That won’t go over too well in this situation, will it?

“It’s just me and it’s mainly house maintenance right now. My boss’ place was a disaster when I started.” Perhaps the most watered down description of your job.

“So you’re like… you’ve cleaned it up?” There’s judgment in his voice that’s immediately sobering. He stares at you blankly.

“I guess I meant more like projects. The last big one was fixing up his yard. I had to manage the budget and scheduling of the landscapers and stuff.” Your voice is flat.

“Oh, okay gotcha.” Dylan nods and he is back to smiling. You’re seething on the inside. Was your answer acceptable to him? “What’s your boss like? Is he a guy?”

What the.

“Yeah, he’s a guy. He’s a little weird. Definitely eccentric. I’ve tried not to pry too much into his personal life, you know. Boundaries and all that, but when I first started he had me sort out some of his things and it looked like he used to be the lead singer in a band.” Another oddly phrased question. At least now you’ve been prompted to bring up the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

“Oh, shit! That sounds awesome! What band?”

Oh, do you hesitate. A long silence stretches between you two.

“I’m… I’m not sure I should say. I don’t want to blow up his spot or anything.” You’re sheepish suddenly and Dylan notices.

“Aw, come on. Who am I gonna tell?” A good question. You drum your fingers on the table, thinking about how you’ve never really told anyone who your boss actually is.

“Catherine will tell me if she finds out.�� A warning, last one until the big reveal. Dylan nods enthusiastically, some of his hairs falling into his forehead. For a split second you think that maybe if you were younger with much less life experience perhaps he would be perfect for you. But you know too much and you know that he wouldn’t be able to give you what you want. “It was Ghost.”

“Oh.” He makes a face and leans back in his chair.

“Oh? Sorry, is that not impressive enough?”

“No, no. It’s still cool. They’re just… I don’t know.”

Do you continue this conversation? Do you care what he thinks? You don’t…but your curiosity gets the better of you.

“What is it, Dylan? Are they lame? I’ve tried to… you know, not dig too deep into it because I feel like that would affect my professionalism.” That and you didn’t want to completely pry into the man’s life.

“Oh, I get that. Uhhh, I mean they’re not REALLY metal. They say they’re metal but they’re not so it’s just a little weird.” He shrugs and crosses his arms. You knit your brows together because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

“Right. Okay.”

“Yeah, I mean, they are basically like pop. Not metal, not at all.” He sounds so impassioned and you nod along but it feels inappropriate. Why is he so pressed? It turns you off even more and you do everything in your power to get this date wrapped up. You are done drinking and you’re too full for dessert. Responses shorten and eventually you’re out front on the sidewalk waiting for an Uber. Dylan has insisted on waiting with you and hovers just a bit too closely by your side. He seems a little oblivious to how this date has gone, bless his heart.

“Well, this is me.” Awkward, so awkward. You move to get into the car but Dylan stops you by your arm and leans in for a kiss. It’s truly over before it starts, a quick peck before he pulls away with a smirk. You are dying on the inside.

“We’ll hang out again soon, yeah?”

“Sure. Yes.” You lie and hurry into the Uber, wanting nothing more than this wretched day to finally end.

Terzo blinks awake. The cool air of the night pricks his cheeks. Leaves crunch beneath his soggy socks. He coughs, blood spilling from his mouth and splattering on his thick chest hair. A robe hangs loosely from his shoulders. Terzo’s eyes drift down to his hand to see he’s wearing his black gloves with sharp, golden nails. He squints and there’s something black stuck to one of the points. Gaze drifts to where he is. His driveway. A breeze rolls by that sends shivers down his spine as his eyes focus on your car.

He’s slashed one of your tires.

Terzo cackles wildly upon this realization. This is new even for him and his weird, otherworldly tendencies. Could be straight up mental illness. He takes a few lumbering steps forward before crouching to eye the tire, surveying the damage. Completely shredded with the rim touching the ground. There’s a familiar buzzing in his skull, a buzz that he used to get while performing. How far he had fallen. Still, he’s delighted with himself. A fitting punishment for the way you crushed him earlier. What hubris you had for leaving your car on his property. Rage shoots through him for a quick moment, the thought of you spending the night with your date crossing his mind. Would this boy drop you off in the morning? He could plan for that.

In his fits of unsatisfying sleep, ideas for being cruel sprang to his mind. He’s settled on ignoring you for most of tomorrow, to have you toil away waiting for any kind of attention but to no avail. Terzo would be watching you the whole day, of course, hidden away in dark corners and peering down from atop the grand staircase. He has always been the best at sneaking around undetected out of all of his brothers, having avoided so many moments where his father could have reamed him out due to this expertise. Primo and Secondo weren’t so lucky.

Sharp pang in his chest from thinking about them.

No, no. He must focus on you. He pushes the thoughts back to the void. You’ll be trapped here at the end of your workday because of this, wouldn’t you? That’s when he’ll reveal himself. He’ll torture you. Tease the information of your date out of you.

How well could it have gone when you are so devoted to him?

The house is cold without him, a shiver running down your spine every time you found yourself in a dark corridor. You try to keep your thoughts to a minimum and are somewhat thankful that the contractor was able to come today. He’s a quiet man but seems to enjoy your cheerfulness which breathes life into an otherwise miserable day. Between directions and answering questions, you would wander the first floor and hover by the stairs, listening for any signs of life only to hear silence. The last time you saw him flits through your mind — the pressure of the hand on your neck that forced you to the ground seconds after he angrily spat in your face seconds after he kissed you. What the hell. You should be furious at him for treating you that way, for leaping over the carefully placed boundaries the two of you have been dancing around for weeks.

But instead you sigh dreamily. You burn for him. Cheeks grow hot just from thinking about his rough hands on you. You hope he’s okay. And you’re sure he is, he’s a big boy.

The fact that you’re more worried about his feelings than you are about potentially losing your job over this is not lost on you. You’ve lived in constant fear of getting fired over the smallest mistakes since the start of this job but you are oddly calm about this situation. This feels like a natural progression. There was going to be a time where you had to confront this strange connection and you would rather it happen sooner rather than later with the way things have been going. As painful as it would be (emotionally AND financially) to say goodbye to him maybe it would be best for it be sooner rather than later.

The day goes by at a painfully slow pace with no sign of him. Anxiety builds and builds as you watch your clock tick down on your phone. You’ve taken to painstakingly wiping down every single mirror on the first floor (there is an absurd amount of them) because it takes up time and gives you something to focus one. After a while interacting with the contractor becomes painful for you, too heightened to be able to function in a normal social setting. You send him home early with a smile, being Friday and all, and you continue carrying out your mirror mission. This takes you to around 4:30 at which point you say “fuck it” and decide it’s time for bed! What is the point of even being here anymore when you could be under your comforter with a pint of chocolate chip ice cream as you ponder your existence?

It was an easy decision.

You meander out the front door, making sure not to slam it shut but have it at least be somewhat loud to announce your exit. Yes, you are stooping that low. A quick wave of relief washes over you because you made it. The day is over and while the issue looms you are at least out of his domain. Car keys jingle in your pocket. You make quick work of the walk from the porch to your car until the state of your tire stops you in your tracks.

“Oh my god!” You’re in disbelief. It’s like an animal chewed through the rubber. Your rim is on the ground. Tears start to well up in your eyes. This is it. This is the thing that’s pushed you over the edge today. A frustrated screech bubbles up your chest.

“Come back inside.”

You freeze as soon as you hear his voice. Spinning on heel, you turn to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, leaning against a column on the porch. His dress shirt is the darkest black you’ve ever seen, partially unbuttoned to show off thick chest hair and cut slacks show off his strong thighs. Did he get dressed up for you? His paint is crisp and hair is slicked back neatly. Fuck, he looks good*.*

“I can get an Uber?” A question as if you’re asking him permission, taking a few tentative steps towards him.

“Hmmm. No. I’ll call you a driver.” A rough response but you can’t help but feel warmth blossom in the pit of your stomach. “Get back inside.” Terzo growls, his gaze stern and pointed. He leaves you alone in his front yard. You feel silly by how hard your heart hammers in your chest but this is what you’ve been wanting all day. A moment passes by and you work up your courage to go inside and take your punishment. Thoughts of your shredded tire fade.

You walk inside the foyer and follow the sound of clinking glasses, finding him at the bar in the den. Terzo’s gaze falls to you then he directs you to the couch with his eyes. You silently follow the order and sit on one of the couch cushions furthest away from him. There’s a lump in your throat, fidgeting with your hands as you wait for him to join you. Eventually he turns around to face you with two drinks in his hand, one a red martini with a lime green umbrella and the other a pint full of something gross looking - not beer but still brown? His face is blank and you try to match his energy but it’s hard to keep your blush at bay. You reach out to take the martini from him but he pulls it back out of your grasp and instead presses the pint into your hand. The smell fills your nostrils: whiskey. Yuck. He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a seat on the other side of the couch, allowing for plenty of space between you two.

“You’ve called the driver already, right?”

“Yes.” He rolls his eyes but you’re still not sure you believe him.

Terzo’s arm stretches across the back of the couch, gloves just brushing your shoulder. Your grip on your whiskey tightens. This isn’t his usual charming aloofness, there’s something cold and cruel bubbling beneath the surface. Still, you want nothing more than to speak to him, even if he’s obviously pissed at you. He lifts his other hand up to his face, admiring the sharp golden nails adorned to his leather gloves. Eyes slowly drag from them to settle on you, gaze so piercing and yet uninterested in you.

“So, you had him pick you up here, si?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Drink.” He points at your glass and narrows his eyes. Not playing around. You do as he says and take a sip. “Keep drinking.” Lip twitches in a faint show of satisfaction as you bring the glass up back to your lips and take a deep gulp. There’s delight in his eyes and you’re more than happy to play the game just to see more of it. Your eyes twitch and you cough once you set the glass, the whiskey burns your throat.

“It was convenient for him.” Words are rough from the sting of alcohol.

“Ohh, was it now?” Terzo growls and digs his nails into the couch, tearing into the fabric. The sound gives you goosebumps. You open your mouth but he’s too quick. “Finish your drink.” He snaps, daggers for eyes that sends a chill down your spine. You swallow thickly and toy with your glass with the tips of your fingers before bringing it back up to your lips. Head tips back, the room swirls and you swallow down the rest of the liquid.

“Gross. Ugh.” Grimacing as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “It’s less of a drive for him and I’m a pushover, okay?” You sigh, only partially joking. His eyes noticeably soften. You sink deeper into the cushion. “I said yes to this date because it was with my best friend’s older brother who I’ve known forever and I’ve always had a crush on him.” Terzo’s fingers shift from the couch to your shoulder, his nails just short of tearing through your shirt, his anger coming back up to a simmer just below the surface, but you continue on unafraid.

“I had to see what would happen. You have to understand… you build the thing up in your head as something perfect and special but then when you actually actually experience it…” You deflate and you eyes wander away from him, wanting to look anywhere else. “It’s never as good as you imagined it. Plus, he was a garbage kisser.” You immediately regret the words as soon as you say them. They hang heavy in the air and the air catches in your lungs. You feel him shift on the couch but you can’t bring yourself to look until his his hand curls around by back of your neck and forces you to look at him. Eyes sharp like knives.

“You let him kiss you.” A statement, not a question. Terzo makes you watch as he slinks closer to you. There’s like a current coming off of him right now that has you paralyzed even though you so badly want to protest. You whimper, words getting caught in your throat as he reaches for you. He grabs you by your waist with the tips of his claws poking against your skin, that delicious danger teasing you as always. “How did it compare?” Terzo trills, a charming smile with vicious edge. Hoo boy. Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“It didn’t compare at all.” You whisper as you try to sink as far into the couch as possible. Not because you don’t want to be close to him but you’re confused. Everything about this feels like a trap, like one wrong answer could set him alight but you’re not exactly fighting it. Instincts are telling you to run but you stay exactly where you are. Terzo’s hand drift up your sides, suggestively squeezing you in all the right places until he’s holding you by your shoulders. He’s smiling wider than before and there’s glee in his eyes — he’s pleased with you. A torrent of heat shoots through your core. He doesn’t say anything, merely taking in your reactions to his touches. His finger tips glide across your top, nearly clipping right through it until his hands settle around your throat. He squeezes just enough to make you gasp for air, then leans in to you, pressing his forehead against yours. You can feel his hot breath on your lips.

Tease.

“I could hurt you.” Terzo muses against your lips, lashes fluttering and eyes wide. There’s a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. Silence passes comfortably between the both of you as you take in each other’s breaths and warmth.

“I know. I’m… afraid of that. But it’s why I’m here.” You feel drunk, the words just tumbling out of you but you don’t care anymore. He is so close to kissing you that you can nearly taste him but instead he pulls away with a wry smile.

“Your glass is empty.” Terzo snickers and then jumps up in a way that can only be described as cat-like, snatching the glass from your hands. You’re left hot and bothered as he turns his back to you to saunter over to the bar. Alone with your thoughts while you watch him pour you another generous whiskey. Oh no. Oh no. You can still taste it on your tongue and it is not for you. But when he turns around with the warmth and charm you’ve been wanting all doubts are gone. You’re going to be messy tonight and that’s just that. When he turns back to face you he’s at least given you half of what he did the first time, walking slowly over to where you’re sitting on the couch.

He looms over you as your eyes drift up to meet his gaze and he audibly growls. You suck in a sharp breath, your nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. Terzo lifts a hand up and brushes his thumb along your jaw before tilting your chin up. He brings the glass to your lips and tips it back. You part your lips, the whiskey burning as it spills down your throat. He continues to pour until you can’t keep up with it and it leaks out of your mouth and down your cheeks. You gasp and he flings the glass down onto the side table as he crushes his mouth against yours, unable to keep away from you any longer.

And you certainly don’t care that he all but purrs into your mouth, soft lips moving against yours. He cups your face with his gloved hands, leather thumbs caressing your cheekbones as he slips onto the couch beside you without breaking the kiss. Fingers curl around his wrist and you press in close to him, losing yourself in how he tastes. His velvety tongue probes your mouth as the kiss grows in intensity. Deep pants try to keep your feet on the ground but you’re off in space, exhaustion and comfort mixing in a way that has you floating. Terzo pulls away from the kiss and you can hardly open your eyes. He gently guides your head to his chest, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“You never called me a driver did you?”

“Oh no. Never considered it.” Terzo squeezes you in his arms.

Oh, he’s so warm. A rumbling groan falls from your lips as his wraps his arms around you, just holding you there. Your limbs relax and you sink deeper into his chest as he starts to rubs up and down your back. In that moment you know you’re a goner. A deep, sleepy sigh falls from your lips and in a matter of minutes you are out cold.

Terzo almost feels guilty for being such an ass. Almost. He feels for you, he can relate to realizing that something isn’t all it was cracked out to be. At least for you it was a childhood crush and not being raised for one person. But still, he was a tad mean wasn’t he? It was necessary and the tension… the tension had been so delicious. Watching you squirm under his intense stare. And you just did what he said, unquestioningly, even when had you drink and drink and drink. Adrenaline is pumping through him and he struggles to contain himself— he must not go any further, despite how tempted he is. He could get away with it. You’re so soft, so pliable and so wanting. Terzo can feel the heat radiating off of you, no doubt from the alcohol and your closeness. He could slip his hand between your thighs and give you exactly what you want.

But it wouldn’t be fair to you. Terzo wants you coherent and focused when he takes you. Plus you’re adorably snuggled against him right now, your soft breaths against his chest. He’s longed for this and you did not disappoint. Wait a minute. Are you sleeping? He is about to fall apart, his arms wrapping so much tighter around you. The urge to keep you safe, to keep you here and never let you leave overcomes him*.* He squeezes your hand that is clutched to his chest and then gingerly picks it up and places it back in your lap.

“Sleepy?”

You lift your heavy head to look at him and good god do you want to be asleep right now. A tender smiles breaks out across his face as he swipes some of your hair from your eyes. A stark contrast from how close he had just been to strangling you.

“Take the guest room tonight, puffetta. I will bring you some clothes.” Terzo pulls himself to his feet. “Meet you up there.” He’s so soft, so different than how torturous he was of you earlier. You’re sure he’s heard what he’s wanted to hear from you but he’s unpredictable. Something you liked about him. There’s an unknown darkness that lies beneath his charm and good looks and it calls out to you. You’ve never felt this way about anyone. How could you ever get away now?

You blink and realize that you’re alone. You’ve been alone. Oh shit. Scrambling off of the couch, you trip over your own feet with the effects of the whiskey hitting you hard.

Ah, the guest room. A cramped space with antique furniture that could use some time and attention. The overall theme of the room is… dust. You’ve brought up having the dresser refinished or even repainted and replacing the peeling wallpaper but it’s low on the list of priorities. You push the door shut and give a soft sigh of relief. Shoes come off. A lamp on the bedside table barely illuminates the room and a folded pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt are waiting for you on the bed. Eyes scan over the remainder of the comforter and pillows, wondering if anyone had ever slept here. You can’t help the feeling that you’re being watched but maybe the fact that you’re about to wear your boss’ clothes isn’t meshing well with the practically decaying room.

“Whatever.” You huff to yourself and undress with the grace of a toddler, kicking your pants off and throwing your removed clothes into a pile on the ground. Sitting down on the bed, you pull up the sweatpants and they are loose as they settle around your waist. The shirt slips over your head and swallows up your upper body. Did he purposely give you his largest clothing to make you feel small? It is so cozy, though. You wrap your arms around your body and flop back onto the bed, sinking into the softness of the blankets. Comfortable heat spreads across your skin from buzz of the alcohol. Limbs go limp and your eyelids grow heavy, a deep sigh falling from your lips. Fading fast.

The piercing ring of the rotary phone cracks through the air and you jolt upright and wide awake. What the? You don’t remember seeing it when you came in and it’s not like it blends in — it’s bright red with intricate black etchings along the base and the handle of the receiver. Not a speck of dust on it. The phone rings again, somehow louder and more harmful to your ears than before. You blink and suddenly you’re standing directly in front of the dresser with one hand curled around the receiver. Heart is pounding in your chest and ears. Something is calling out to you. Answer it. Answer it. Answerit. answeritansweritansweritanswerit.

You pick up the phone to silence. Then chittering. The receiver is hot on your cheek. Something pricks your ear but you can’t pull away. There’s a squelch. A screech. More screaming. It only gets louder and louder, needles in your ears, pain shooting through your brain. You can’t breathe. You twirl the phone cord around your fingers and shuffle your bare feet against the cold floor, the only thing you’re able to get your body to do other than press the phone so hard against your head. The closer you listen to the screams the more familiar they get, growing in intensity, pain and volume. Burning, the receiver is burning now and yet you can’t move, you can’t get any relief. The phone cord is nearly completely tangled around your wrist and you’re sweating, gasping for breath, and crying without even realizing it. The screams finally subside, replaced by a cold, dead silence.

You hang up the phone.

Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washes over you and you collapse onto the bed. The world spins as you sink into the soft mattress, the dial tone still echoing in your ears.

#terzo #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction

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multiversalfandomwriter222 · 10 months ago

Note

Hii can you write az saying something he doesn't mean and making reader cry and then comforting her? Or the classic flinching during argument? I just really love hurt/comfort loll

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!! <33

OH I LOVE THESE TROPES! Your wish is my command!

Warnings: Cussing, Yelling, somebody almost getting stabbed.

Reckless

"You can't keep doing that shit y/n!" Azriel yells. "Well, what the fuck was I supposed to do Azriel? Just let them corner my older sisters?" You yell. You were supposed to only stay with Nest and Feyre while they were in the library, but you had risked your life, distracting them so Nesta and Feyre could go get help while you led the Hybern Intel down, down, down into the library, and that's when you had met your new best friend, Bryaxis(which is beside the point). Azriel was horrified to find out that you were down there, by yourself, with no one to protect you. But you were always like that. Doing reckless things with your new immortality.

"You were supposed to find a way out, y/n. You put yourself in these situations and it pisses me off!" He steps close to you wings flaring; eyes filled with icy rage. "You cannot keep being so fucking dumb and reckless!" He shouts.

You flinch at the insult, tears filling your eyes. "You whimper and a sob spills from your lips "I-I'm so sorry Azriel." Azriel's eyes widen. "No, no I'm sorry. I'm so sorry angel, I didn't-" He tries to pull you against his chest, but you shove him away. Azriel's heart breaks as he sees you sob, mentally kicking himself for hurting you.

"I was scared. So, so scared to lose you." He whispers. You look at him. "I didn't mean to say that you're dumb, y/n. You are so smart, the most beautiful fae I have ever seen. And the fact that I insulted you just now kills me. I am so sorry." He says. "It's fine." You whisper. "Now please come and hug me. I don't want to be apart anymore." Azriel nods and starts to walk over, but you rush over, impatient to be in his arms. He kisses the top of your head as he rocks you back and forth, sort of like a slow dance moment. "I love you Azriel." You say and look up at him, adoration filling your eyes. Azriel leans down to give you a sweet kiss. "I love you so much angel, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you." He says. "Well, it's a good thing I came along!" You say cheerfully and kiss his cheek.

A/N: Okay! Three in one day! Y'all keep coming with the request, it's helping me be motivated and keep me out of the funk in my head. Keep requesting from the list, but also give me some other characters so I don't get bored and back into my procrastination mood. Love y'all, be safe!

#azriel x reader #acomaf #hurt/comfort #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar series #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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wackapedia · 11 months ago

Text

Remnant

Vincent Renzi x reader Vincent finds a woman living in Miss Voyter's former chalet and finds a new outlet for his feelings. Wordcount: 1,670 Warnings: Attempt at comedy, one swear word, Anatomy Of A Fall spoilers, ghosts for comedic effect

Vincent sighs and lights a cigarette just as the sun sets behind the mountain. He is sitting in the driver seat of his car, which is parked outside the chalet. It's been empty for months, since Sandra-

Miss Voyter, he corrects himself.

Since Miss Voyter sold the cabin and is turned into some sort of B&B thing just as Samuel intended, she would say.

Miss Voyter and her son moved back to Germany after the case, Vincent remembers. He then wonders why he's parked outside their former chalet.

As of late, he finds himself driving up the uphill road to the cabin, maybe to think or to reminisce. Maybe he's trying to heal from a wound he would never acknowledge.

The lawyer, who is now gaining popularity since that widely-broadcast case, stubs out his cigarette and starts the car. What am I doing here? He mumbles to himself. He tosses the cigarette out the window and moves to start the engine. Someone suddenly shows up by the side of his car.

"Hey, did you just come here to throw your shit? Pick it up!" A woman yells, standing a few paces from his car. Vincent feels embarrassed. He decides to suck it up and apologize.

"Je suis desole, madamoiselle... " He steps out of the car and picks up his rubbish. He then looks up at the woman, who seemed a bit stunned.

He stuffs the stubbed-out cigarette in his pocket and smiles apologetically at the woman. He feels his face heat up.

"I've seen you come here a few times; are you following me?" The woman stumbles through her broken French.

"Oh, no... I'm just..." Vincent doesn't know what to say. "I'm a lawyer." He attempts, as if it explains anything.

"Am I in trouble?" She replies. Vincent tries to take advantage.

"Depends. How long have you lived here?"

"Three weeks. Why?"

"Nothing, Make sure to lock your doors at night."

Vincent tries to escape from the situation he's found himself in. He begins to open his car door and longs to just drive back to the city.

"What? Wait! What do you mean? Is that some sort of threat?" She takes two steps closer to him.

"Threat? No! What do you mean?" Vincent stops. He looks at her, surprised to see her face clearer now that he's up close.

"They say this house is haunted... Someone died here. Is that true?" She whispers, almost afraid to mention it out loud. At this, Vincent chuckles.

"That's just silly." He answers her as he settles himself in the driver's seat.

"Wow, and you think standing outside someone else's house isn't as dumb? You could be a pervert for all I know!" She stands next to his car door, addressing him through the window.

Vincent decides he's tired of defending himself like he's in court. Instead of answering, he hands her his business card.

"You're a lawyer?!" She asks after taking the card in her hands. Vincent offers her a kind smile before starting the car and driving off.

------------

That night, she sits alone in the bedroom of the rented cabin, playing with the lawyer's business card. She still wonders why she felt odd around Mr. Vincent Renzi.

"That guy's probably some sort of stalker..." She jokes to herself, tossing the business card next to her phone as she opens her laptop and types his name on the search bar. Good news! The name matches the face. Bad news: He is featured in a couple of news articles.

She browses through them and reads about the success of his recent case, which happens to be quite popular. It's not bad news after all. Mr. Renzi was defending a woman who was suspected of murdering her husband. She was ruled out because the death was proven to be a suicide.

She goes deep into the research rabbit hole after staring at a couple of photos of the said lawyer taken from press release interviews. She then discovers that the scene of the crime was the house she was staying in at the present. She then organizes her thoughts after reading through several articles.

1. Mr. Renzi is indeed a lawyer. 2. He is quite handsome. 3. He had reason to come by the house. 4. Someone had died here, and therefore; 5. The house is haunted.

She gasps, and her skin erupts in goosebumps. She looks around the dark room and feels the darkness staring back. Was it just her imagination? No, there's a cold wind enveloping the room. The windows are closed. There's some sort of noise in the attic. Footfalls? Walking down the stairs? Outside her room? She panics and picks up her phone and the card next to it before running down the stairs.

Who to call? The cops? What if they think you're insane? The owner of the house? What's he going to do—ward off the vengeful spirit who's about to kill you?

She looks at her phone and pulls up the phone app to call the only person who can help her.

"Hello? Vincent?" Her voice trembles. She was outside the house, trembling, both because of the cold and the fear of what could possibly be inside the house.

"Oui, c'est moi; comment puis-je vous aider?" He answers in his charming French accent. She briefly wonders what he just said.

She quickly told him her name, although she doubted he would recognize her.

"Its me, the one from the cabin? I think there's someone in the house!"

-----

Vincent stays with her on the phone throughout the whole fifteen-minute drive. She seems to have calmed down a little, shivering mostly from the cold and less from fear. The moment he arrives, he immediately spots her outside the chalet. As the car stops, she runs toward him.

"What happened?" He catches her like its the most natural thing.

"Someone died here, right?" She looks up to him and positions him between her and the house.

Vincent sighs. "Is this about the haunted thing again?"

"You never answered me! I fact-checked your business card, and everything made sense!"

Vincent rests his forehead on his palm. He is still wearing his green home slippers, their bright color catching his eyes.

He tries to catch his breath after his mini-heart attack, expecting her to be in danger.

So this place is actually haunted, and she begins to feel a little sorry for him. She looks up at the house, noticing she failed to turn on the lights. Is there a figure in the attic window? Her mind might be playing tricks on her, but she is genuinely scared. She moves closer to the lawyer who is standing there, watching her.

"What?" Vincent pretends to be annoyed with her.

"Can you help me inspect the house?"

"I'm a lawyer, not a cop."

"You were observing the house this morning..." She mumbles.

Vincent sighs. He can't seem to say no to this woman.

-----------

"There. Happy now?" Vincent faces her with his hands on his hips. All the lights in the house are on, and Vincent checks the attic, making sure there are no "vengeful spirits" there to hurt her. She seems to be satisfied.

"Okay.... Thank you..." She mumbles sleepily in the living room. Vincent can't help but smile at how she looks right now.

The lawyer hesitates to leave her there, sleeping in the living room with all the lights on.

"Go on now; get to bed." He tells him, sounding like he's scolding a toddler.

"Okay. Goodnight." She walks up the stairs slowly. She now feels very comfortable around him, which is a wonder since she scolded him just this morning.

Vincent smiles to himself as he drives home.

--------

The minute Vincent wakes up the next day, he checks his phone for any texts from the woman in the chalet. He got her name when she called him last night and has been repeating it in his head since. Unfortunately for him, there were no calls or texts from her. He watches his phone closely in case she reaches out, but the only messages on his phone are text ads and messages concerning work.

As that Sunday progresses without her reaching out, the grumpier Vincent becomes.

So he heads out there.

----------

She had just come back from town, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and produce. As she steps up and comes into view of the house,. He is surprised to see another car parked and a certain lawyer standing by the stairs.

"Where were you?" He tries to sound nonchalant.

She raises her basket, showing the obvious.

Vincent seems out of words. She is about to ask, 'Why are you even here?' and he would have no answer. Vincent looks down hard, trying to find the answer on the gravel. Ah, there it is.

"You deserve to know the truth." The lawyer blurts out suddenly, just as she was about to ask something.

"About what?"

"The man who died? He died right here," Vincent bluntly says, pointing to the spot next to them. "So, yes. This place is very haunted."

She gasps in surprise. She wasn't expecting him to believe her bullshit excuse to see him again that night, right? You guess he's one of those superstitious small-town folks.

Vincent waits for her reaction. She hasn't reacted the way he hoped. He expected her to be shocked and cling to him, but no, she just stands there and stares at the gravel.

"Hey, did you hear what I just said? This place is hau-"

"Do you want to grab coffee sometime?" She decides to just go straight to the deal, a slight smirk playing on one side of her face. Now it's Vincent who takes a breath of surprise.

"Um... Sure?" Vincent finds himself replying. He can't believe this turned out well for him when he literally had no roadmap for what he was trying to do.

"Okay. Let me just put these inside the house, and we can head to town together?"

The lawyer nods. She smiles and comes out of the house a while later and walks with him to town.

part 2?

#vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #swann arlaud #i just need to get this out of my system lmao #anatomy of a fall vincent

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bopbobpbobpbobpbobpbobpb · 11 months ago

Text

Sleepover gone wrong on noesss

Writing underneath

It had all started so well. Simple plan. Simple. Plan.

Step one: become unpossesed

Step two: sleepover

Step three: pie

Step four: wait for mom to go to sleep then get out the ouja board and play fun sleepover games!!!!! Thats how it works!!!! Kris would know!! They've had plenty of sleepovers with Azzy, Noelle and

Step five: have fun and go sleep. (Kris would NOT be sharing everyone else has to sleep somewhere else)

That was the plan!!

It had started of so well. Kris had entered the room and Susie and Berdly, well did what They always did. Argue. It was friendly though!! They always do that it was normal. Noelle suggested truth or dare (a classic) and it was going well!! Bonding!! With friends!!! Kris had missed this. They had missed having so many people in their life, shouting amd screaming, having fun until they were too loud and Toriel had come into their room and remind them to be a little quieter. They had missed laughing and being "sneaky", talking about the most random things and playing little games. They had missed the noise and the warmth of the ones close to you just simply being there. Kris had finally resolved everything with Noelle Berdly and Susie. Until they just made that shit go crashing down.

One thing had led to another. Berdly truthed susie to tell something. Susie got defensive. Things got heated. They both lashed out. Noelle tried to diffuse the situation. Berdly said something. Noelle got pissed. Berdly said something. It struck a nerve. Kris saw red.

The whole room had stared at Kris in shock. Kris's eyes widened. No. No. They didn't mean that they didn't mean tha- Berdly rushed out. Eyes suspiciously shiny. There were only three of them left. Kris, Noelle and Susie. All of them could only stare dumbly at eachother. Shit SHIT. Kris CAN'T go back to before they CAN'T they CAN'T. Panic rose. Kris had just made up with Berdly and they immediately ruined it. Kris went after Berdly, determined to make things right again.

Except ...

Kris stood at the doorway, frozen. How do they do this? Their breathing got funny. WWAD What would Asriel do? He was good at this sort of thing wasn't he? But.. Asriel wasn't there. Only an idiot human and a crying bird on the footsteps. Kris thought about what to say. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it .you're my friend. I love you. Kris flushed no they could NOT say that don't be an idiot. No they had to say what they were sorry about right? Like uh: Im sorry i-

"are you just gonna stand there"

Kris flinched. Berdly sighed and continued looking away form Kris.

"I'm sorry" Kris could only say.

Berdly ignored them. Kris sat down on the steps next to Berdly.

"I didn't mean it" Kris looked down, avoiding eye contact.

"It's not true"

There was a silence.

"But what if it is" Berdly's voice cracked. Kris looked up in shock.

"What if I am" Berdly burried his face in his wings

" I AM a forgettable little bluebird and when I die no one will care because I have done nothing in life and I'm not exceptional at all and I was so mean and I -"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"Berdly I was being a dumb shit who got mad and took things too far you ARE NOT foegettable you ARE exceptional and if you died I would be really sad and track down your murderer and kill them and you're my friend and i love yo-" shit shit shit shit.

Berdly faced Kris.

"What"

"What did you just say"

"If you died I would be sad and kill your murderer"

"No after that"

"You're my friend??"

"No the one after that"

"That was it"

"KRIS STOP GASLIGHTING ME"

"I'm not??"

Berdly laughed. Kris could not help but grin a little at the sight. Suddenly they stiffened the birb hugged them tightly.

"I love you too kris"

Suddenly there were two idiots crying that night.

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roosterbruiser · 2 years ago

Note

I am way, way early for sleepover day butttt this popped into my head and I’m curious to see what you can do with “This is my wife, Dr. Bradshaw. She’s been accused of stirring the pot before.”

(I, an aspiring PhD, am FERAL for being called doctor. I’m also curious what Dr. Bradshaw did. If it doesn’t spark inspo, are you studying anything? What was your favorite subject in school?)

standing at the bar, a smile tugging on your lips as the suns sinks into the ocean just outside, you sigh a happy sigh. you're off work for the next several days--which rarely happens--and that means you can spend every waking moment with your hunk of a husband.

he's currently losing a game of pool to Phoenix, who's tickled pink that you're here so Bradley won't pout all night, and stealing glances at you whenever he can chance it.

God, does he look good, too--that dumb Hawaiian shirt that really must have some sort of magic in it, a tight white t-shirt, blue jeans. he's tan and happy and warm and everything in the world that you love. and you're fairly certain that isn't just the Long Island iced teas talking. being married for the past three years hasn't really changed much at all for the two of you--you still daydream about him like a ditzy teenager. and he still gets flustered when you catch his gaze and wink--it's one of the things you love most about him; how easy you can make him blush.

"isn't he handsome?" you ask out loud to no one in particular--and you're fairly certain that it is because of the Long Island iced teas.

Jake Seresin happens to be standing beside you, waiting for Penny to finish up with another customer so he can get his first whiskey sour of the night, and he glances at you when he hears the dreamy lilt in your tone.

shit--you're hot. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you here before. for a quick minute, he racks his brain, trying to place you. he knows you're familiar--maybe a past fling or a match on tinder--but nothing's calling out to him.

he gives you a once-over, a sly one, and notices a few things: the way your breasts strain against the fabric of your tee shirt, the gloss over your eyes, the way those jeans hug your hips, and a wedding ring.

he follows your gaze to Bradley, who's gaping as Phoenix absolutely demolishes him in pool without so much as breaking a sweat, and frowns.

"eh," Jake answers, shrugging. he turns and catches your gaze, his brows slightly knit. "he's married, anyway."

oh. you recognize this guy from all of Bradley's stories--this is Jake. Hangman. you two seem to always just miss each other: you're out of town when he comes over for a football game, you're working at the hospital when he's on base, you're at the grocery store when he FaceTimes Bradley.

for a moment, you maintain his gaze, waiting for him to place you. but he's just staring at you blankly.

"married, huh?" you ask softly, leaning in closer to Jake. you make a show of looking all around Bradley and Jake's brows knit even further--you're brash for a married woman looking at a married man. "I don't see a wife?"

Jake scoffs softly, an incredulous smile tugging on his lips. surely you're joking. but then he keeps watching you eye fuck Bradley, teeth sunken into your lower lip, and he automatically straightens his spine.

"you're married too," Jake points out, nodding to your ring finger. he crosses his arms over his chest. "how'd your husband feel knowing you're eyeing a Navyman?"

"ooh," you sing-song, batting your lashes. "he's a man in uniform, too, huh?"

Christ. you're less shameless than him.

"and married," Jake repeats, frowning a bit now. "you know, like you. married. holy matrimony and all that. union. like, legally bound."

stifling a laugh, you give a very blasé shrug of your shoulders and bite your lip.

"all the good ones are taken," you say, wrinkling your nose. "don't you think I deserve a little fun?"

Jake fully scoffs now, aghast at your behavior. it takes everything in your body not to break character and introduce yourself. but you wanna see how far you can take this: you've heard stories about Jake. a shameless, over-confident creature who'll turn taken women into single women with a bat of his long lashes. and you've got him gaping at you like you're some sort of wild animal.

but before he can say anything else, Bradley finally wanders up behind you, pressing a few kisses to your cheek as he wraps his arms around your waist.

and that is about all Jake can take.

"listen, man, I don't know your wife but I'm sure she wouldn't be too happy about you kissing up on another married woman!" Jake says, hands on his hips. he's never been more disappointed in Bradley before. he feels like he's in the fucking Twilight Zone. Bradley "I Never Shut Up About My Hot Wife" Bradshaw shacking up with some stranger at the bar while his wife probably busts her ass at the hospital? no fucking way. "and I ain't gonna hold my tongue about it--I'll tell you that now."

when Bradley laughs, Jake just blinks at him. but then you're laughing, too, patting Bradley's chest.

"we almost had him!" you tell Bradley, shoving him playfully. "that vein in his forehead was starting to throb!"

instinctively, Jake slides a finger across his forehead. huh. maybe it was. how the fuck would you know about that vein, though?

"Jake," Bradley says with a grin. "this is my wife--Dr. Bradshaw. she's known to occasionally stir the pot."

beaming at a still-flustered Jake, you extend your left hand.

"pleasure's all mine."

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weirdmageddon · 1 year ago

Text

yesterday i wrote a scene where jade wasnt a plot device and was left the hell alone in A6A5 because this being dave and jade’s last proper conversation in years made me sad and i wanted to see them reunite properly. i mixed a bit of narration in too even though it was rare around this point in the comic but its just to paint a better picture. also i wouldnt mind feedback on character voice (it’s important to me that the dialogue sounds believable)

[3 years are over, everyone is in the new session. The prospit ship is on LOMAX, as is everyone who arrived on the meteor, safely warped by Jade onto LOMAX as well. Jade has banished B2 Jack to the Furthest Ring already. She hasn't seen her friends in 3 years, not to mention she never met the trolls in person yet.]

[Jade teleports to LOMAX where John was talking with the meteor crew. Her eyes widen when she sees the trolls, giving everyone a greeting. Jade waves to the trolls.]

You’ll have time to catch up with them later. First you want to reconvene with Rose and Dave.

> ==>

Dave... Oh my god! DAVE!!! That’s right! The last time you saw him, he died in your arms after Jack redirected the bullets from your gun into his body!

JADE: dave!!!! DAVE: hey DAVE: this has been three years coming hasnt it DAVE: cmere

> ==>

[Dave hugs Jade with a slight grin on face. He notices her… sniffing him?? but doesn’t even bother to question it.]

JADE: it is so nice to hold your body when its not a corpse :) DAVE: ok DAVE: weird thing to say DAVE: actually who am i kidding who gives a shit DAVE: i almost forgot how much i missed the enigmatic riddlefuckery that is your phrasing DAVE: fortunately i have context for this so i know what youre saying DAVE: humor me for a sec and imagine that i didnt DAVE: but first DAVE: are those dog ears JADE: yes! i am part dog now JADE: because i prototyped my dreamself with becsprite JADE: jadesprite became part of me! and so did her doggy traits from bec DAVE: got it DAVE: oh yeah john mentioned that on the back of his dumb poster inside that bucket that appeared out of thin air DAVE: right before we had to haul ass out of there before jack caught up to us DAVE: karkat had a complete fucking meltdown over that btw i wish you couldve seen it DAVE: damn it feels like so long ago now JADE: heheheh i remember JADE: john realized it at the last second but it was too late! DAVE: of course it was johns idea only he could do something that gooberish DAVE: you know what this means though JADE: yup!! woof woof DAVE: it means youve done it harley DAVE: youve finally done it god damn it DAVE: the evolution of humankind is finally upon us DAVE: the scientists said it would never happen in our lifetime DAVE: but look what we have here DAVE: before me stands mans first legitimate furry subspecies DAVE: homo canis DAVE: as the name implies theyre gay as fuck btw DAVE: its too bad all those scientists are dead and cant witness this phylogenetic breakthrough DAVE: rip to the science community yall wouldve lost your collective shit DAVE: hey jade lets pour one out for the science community for being real ones

> ==>

You are still nestled into Dave’s shoulder. He’s taken a sort of protective position over you. Your perceptive barkbeast ears can hear his formerly bullet-riddled heart beating a mile a minute with the regularity of quartz beneath his time-branded pajamas, all the while he continues to ramble to you about certifiably dumb shit. You can tell Dave is psyched to see you again, even if he expresses it in his OWN bizarre way, which means extended metaphors and topical tangents. What a hypocrite, calling YOUR phrasing perplexing! You sure missed this guy.

You realize you started tuning him out while thinking about all this.

DAVE: jade JADE: umm homo is the species name JADE: so wouldnt that mean were all gay? :p DAVE: yeah that sounds about right DAVE: anyway enough of this bullshit

> ==>

[Dave motions to retract his arms since he doesn’t want it to get too weird, but Jade squeezes tighter. Dave immediately yields to the movement]

DAVE: jesus wow ok DAVE: really happy to see you too DAVE: like if you had a tail it would be wagging so forcefully youd be knocking over all the fucking furnishings in the room DAVE: just slapping it so hard on the owners thigh that it feels like theyre being flogged DAVE: talk about getting bitch slapped JADE: :D DAVE: so howve you been JADE: really really excited to see you guys all again!!! JADE: and to meet the trolls! DAVE: yeah theyre pretty weird DAVE: and im still not used to it DAVE: but it gets more manageable the longer youre around them DAVE: by the way JADE: ?

> ==>

DAVE: sorry you had to go through that JADE: through what? DAVE: seeing me die and stuff again DAVE: except that time right in front of you JADE: .... DAVE: when we were gathering up all those frogs i knew jack was going to appear DAVE: i was waiting and waiting to play it out DAVE: mentally rehearsing my fucking torso getting turned into swiss cheese and knowing you would have to watch on top of it DAVE: i had to make sure it happened to protect the integrity of the alpha timeline DAVE: but if you knew this was going to happen you wouldve tried to prevent it and created a doomed one DAVE: and so i didnt say anything DAVE: i couldnt DAVE: so DAVE: sorry for putting you through that JADE: oh..... JADE: dave D: JADE: well im here JADE: if you ever want to talk about it DAVE: its cool DAVE: you just deserve to know what happened there DAVE: but thanks DAVE: so am i JADE: yeah i know JADE: i guess i should be glad you did that then... JADE: even though i was freaking out when it happened ._. JADE: otherwise you wouldnt be here will us now dressed in your red god tier time pajamas DAVE: yeah these magical rags really are comfortable arent they DAVE: and they stay like perma clean JADE: they are! i would wear mine over and over for days on end JADE: id take a nice shower and put it right back on JADE: and you know how much i love cycling my outfits through my wardrobifier JADE: by the way dave your cape is sooo cool! :o DAVE: thanks DAVE: yeah i love it its hella soft DAVE: its like ive got a portable snuggle blanket with me in case i ever need to drop to the floor like a tired sack of shit and get my snooze on DAVE: ive got a permanent personal reservation at club bed featuring dj pillow and mc blanky JADE: heheheh JADE: can i touch your cape? DAVE: of course go nuts JADE: yaaaay!!

#hs #homestuck #davejade #dave strider #jade harley #my hs dialogues

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somefanficrecomendations · 11 months ago

Text

January Monthly Roundup

BATFAMILY

Three’s a Crowd (But I’m Here if You Are) by JUBE514 (Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake/Conner Kent) 20k, Identity Reveal, Fluff Bernard pops the top off his water bottle, a roll of his wrist at the perfect angle and it comes right off, and pops the faucet in Tim’s very nice kitchen to cold. Tim presses a kiss to the back of Bernard’s neck before Tim moves to the fridge to get his own water. Bernard used to not drink as much water, but Tim drinks enough water for three people a day so Bernard naturally has followed- and now Bernard has no acne so he’s sort of mad about it actually. “The main character has two hands.” Bernard chimes easy and teasing. “Polygamy is the awnser here babe.” Tim peaks over the door of the fridge. “Oh? Is this you telling me something?” — Tim Drake, Bernard Dowd, and Kon-El have two hands each. They use them to hold onto each other.

My Evil Twin From Another Universe by FabulaRasa (Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne) 22k An interdimensional anomaly strands another version of Hal in this universe, and two Hal Jordans in one universe is several Hal Jordans too many.

this week in heroblr by UnidentifiedFroggy (multi) 22k, WIP, Social Media, okay im sorry y'all did SUPERBOY just say he's a tumblrina??? #SUPERBOY AS IN KON EL AS IN SUPERMANS CLONE #DIED IN THE CRISIS SUPERBOY #holy shit #superblr #heroblr - a viewpoint into tumblr as it might exist within my own exceedingly self-indulgent form of the dc universe, told through epistolary fashion in batfamily social media fic tradition. features heroes getting cancelled, takes of middling veracity, plenty of queerness both on heroblr and in the hero community, my self-indulgent ships, and something vaguely resembling plot and lore told obliquely through tumblr drama and outsider pov interpretations of superheroes

The Big Boss by Crowlows19 (gen) 4k, POV Outsider The story of Bruce Wayne and his family as told by his insane Wayne Enterprises calendar and the poor assistant that had to manage it all.

Batman for Dummies by Havendance (gen) 38k, No Man’s Land, Helena Bertinelli-centric In the aftermath of the quake that shook Gotham, Helena Bertinelli takes on the mantle of the Bat. (It isn’t like Batman’s using it.) If she’d known the cowl came with a certain moralizing little bird following her around — well, she probably still would’ve done it, but it would’ve been nice to know in advance. (Or: Tim and Helena team up 2: electric boogaloo. Now with more bats!)

Older Sibling Duty by Icestorm238 (gen) 2k, Batfam Names are important. The Bats tend to bypass their real names, however, in favour of increasingly dumb nicknames. The older sibling trio of Dick, Jason, and Cass are the primary instigators of this. After all, it is their duty.

AITAH For Tricking My Brother Into Drugging My Other Brother? by TaxiCabToSlowtown (gen) 1k, Social Media, Am I the Asshole? Okay, look, I know how that sounds, but hear me out. My (M, 19, "Fred") little brother (17, I’ll call him “Percy”) has problems. These problems stem a lot from the fact that his parents abandoned him for long periods of time as a kid and he didn’t have a proper upbringing. I should mention that Percy’s parents then are not the same as our parent(s) now. We’re both adopted, and I’m messed up too, I’ll admit it. Our Father (45, I’ll call him “Arthur”) had sort of turned his house into a home for kids with really traumatic families.

Welcome to the Family by ViiA01 (Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne) 67k, WIP, Batfam Bruce’s children want to meet the man that their father deemed worthy of a smile. So they do, in the only way they know how. By breaking into people's houses and lurking in dark places. Bruce just wants his children to stop stalking Earth’s Green Lantern, if only because they're ruining his plans. And Hal? Well, Hal is convinced that Bruce has concocted a plot to get around his ‘no killing’ rule, by having his children stalk him until his heart gives out from the stress.

A Series of Unfortunately Timed Coming Out's by Queerbutstillhere (multi), 7k, Coming Out The batfamily had this gift. This wonderful skill. They are such talented, brilliant, capable individuals. But they are absolutely horrendous at wisely timing coming out to their family members. These are their stories . Aka: "I love you all but could we stop coming out to each other during the middle of battles?"

Call to a Lonely Earth by Drag0nst0rm (gen), 7k, Angst, AU-17776 Fusion There are no children left in Gotham. Not until the multiverse spits one out right in front of Batman, at least.

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous (gen), 13k, Vegas Tim had always figured that if he ever woke up in Vegas sans-memory, it would be when he was older than fourteen. But there were some things he couldn’t control, and apparently whatever had happened last night that he didn’t remember was one of them.

CROSSOVER

Keystone by Kalinjdra (gen), 26k, WIP, HPxDC Harry Potter double-checked his lists before sending off the letter to an unknown cousin. He hoped for maybe some money at least, he didn't expect to get a scary bodyguard brother instead. Jason Todd has never stopped searching for his real parents so when Tim offers solid information in exchange of taking care of some kid, he really doesn't have anything else to do but take it. No one really could have foretold what followed.

#batfam fic rec #Batman #fanfiction #batlantern #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #conner kent #kon-el #batfamily #damian wayne #harry potter fic rec #monthly roundup #complete #fic rec #wip

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cyborg-franky · 1 year ago

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Worst People To Bring Home...

Based on a poll I did the other day.

It had two days left but ehhh 1 day isn't enough and 7 days is too much tbh.

Well done Marco for being lowest on this. I am concern Sabo wasn't higher.

Under the cut is some of my FAVE tags/replies.

Doffy

The age gap might be the first concern of your folks when you bring Doffy home, that and how much cleaning up after that big shedding feather coat will be needed.

You won’t even get to introduce him, he’ll be there with a big shit-eating grin with his arms wide going MOM DAD even though you have only been dating like a month.

Prepare for the most awkward time of your life when your folks ask about his family.

Maybe get your folks some bulletproof vests in case something mildly offends Doffy at the dinner table, like your mom didn’t cook his steak how he liked.

Will sit there and go on about how much nicer the food is at all the fancy restaurants he can afford to take you.

Brings his own solid silver cutlery.

Offers NO help to your folks when cleaning up after.

Brought his own wine, wine that costs more than your car.

But brought the cheapest wine he could find as a dinner gift.

Laughs loudly and talks over your folks.

Will touch your ass in front of them.

Sheds pink feathers everywhere, and butts in conversations because he can’t wait for his turn, loving the sound of his own voice.

When asked why Doffy you just shrug and tell them how much he makes monthly and your parents sort of get it but don’t like it.

Ask you to blink twice if you want out of the relationship.

Kid

Does not take his huge clunky muddy boots off when he comes into the house, because there are too many straps and buckles and god knows what else.

He grunts in reply to things like a stroppy teenager when asked anything by your folks.

Goes to reapply his lipstick every so often and your dad asks if he always wears so much makeup and nail varnish.

0 Table manners. Is a wild mess when he doesn’t have Killer to reel him in.

If he does take off his shoes you have to deal with his bare feet and the smell.

Hands your mom a bunch of flowers that clearly were stolen from somewhere.

It’s the thought that counts right?

Wears so many piercings that every airport security in the country fears him.

Enough spikes and bling to be an anti-theft device.

Will hit on your mom a little, something casual like ‘Man your mom's banging, what? I meant it as a compliment jeez’

Your parents are lowkey scared of him but try and be nice because he mentions how no one messes with you and he does seem to love and respect you.

Burps and laughs.

Luffy

Alright! Your folks think look at this little guy, look at this little man with his straw hat and polite smile.

Sure he opens doors with all his might and leaves marks but he seems super friendly and shakes your dad's hand and gives your mom a hug.

You think it’s going well until actual dinner starts and Luffy starts telling stories of him and his brothers and all the dumb shit the three get up to and your parents start to think you are dating one of the three stoogies.

He also talks with his mouth open, eats off everyone's plates, and asks if you're done with that? And eats it before anyone has a chance to answer.

Eats loud, food flying everywhere in a flurry of grabby hands and loud billowing laughs at comments, he’s having a great time.

Your folks have no idea where this little string bean is putting it all.

Asking how you guys met and Luffy just says someone was bothering you and he punched them through a wall or something.

Info dumps about stuff, annoying your parents a little but… you could have brought worse home, right?

Law

Your folks are EXCITED to meet your fancy smart doctor-surgeon boyfriend.

Imagine their horror when they see Law with his eye bags, scruffy hoody, and jeans, all his tattoos death on his hands.

They exchange looks and definitely think he’s a doctor of something else and when you're alone in the kitchen ask if he is a dealer and or a stoner which you have to tell them it’s just sleep deprivation mixed with cheap energy drink.

When folks ask him about what it’s like to be a doctor he goes into too much detail about certain issues or surgeries that put everyone off of their food.

He’s also the fussy eater that people dread coming over to their house.

After folks went to lengths to make sure they got food he wanted he’d still reject it and end up eating a bowl of rice or cereal looking like he’s about to fall asleep any second.

Says creepy shit with a straight face or a smile.

Says things in inappropriate ways like ‘I can’t wait to be inside them and fix their heart’

But hey, at least he’s a doctor?

Zoro

Zoro always seems to have a wave of intimidation wherever he goes and your parents are a little scared of him when you and Zoro rock up.

Though he’s polite enough, if not a bit quiet.

When asked things by folks he just gives one-word replies until he’s asked about booze then he’s all ears, he’ll drink all the good stuff but at least he’s talking now?

Oh great now he’s talking.

About swords.

His special interest which he goes into great detail about. Now your parents think he’s one of those nutjobs who are ready for the zombie apocalypse.

Drinks and eats so much, talks about swords, gets out his phone and shows your dad each sword in his collection, twenty facts about them, and what their name is.

Falls asleep on the sofa after dinner and is impossible to move, guess Zoro just moved in with you guys.

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weirdozjunkary · 1 year ago

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I need to share my two cents on Prime!Sonic because I feel that he’s getting unnecessary hate from people (mild spoilers for season 2)

First off, I get it if you don’t like him for your own reasons. How he talks, how he acts, what he looks like, ETC. I am in no way judging you for your own opinion

What I hate about this is people saying that he is ‘not sonic’. He doesn’t act like how sonic would be. I’ve seen people say he rude or selfish, and I feel that they’re comparing him too much with his other selves.

Sonic Prime isn’t game sonic; despite the creators saying it’s ‘as close to cannon as it gets’. Sonic Prime isn’t the same as Cannon Sonic. The only reason why the series is ‘close to cannon’ is the fact that we have badniks, rings, power ups, ETC; things from the games. That’s the only thing that is like cannon in the story

But for Prime!Sonic’s character… he IS not sonic, not the one like his game counter part. BUT I think he is not far off from the original. Yes, he doesn’t act like his cannon self, but I think that’s kind of the point? I am a little biased, I love a characterization like this on him, I love me a little bastard. But to me, Prime!Sonic is more of a parody than the real deal. Similar to how Sonic Boom was. An over exaggeration of his character.

Now, yes, I agree that how he acts is… weird. He doesn’t listen to his friends, he messes things up greatly, he causes a lot of problems for himself and others. But I think that this kind of characterization is sort of a… reset of his character? At least for the story. It’s a character arc, the whole show is a character arc for him. We’re seeing a version of sonic grow from start to finish.

This idea is most prevalent in the episode ‘double trouble’, he says in response to Chaos Sonic annoying him: “Ugh. If I’m half as annoying as this guy, I really need to make some changes.”

And while I know that he does come off as selfish and rude, I think those words are a little harsh for him.

He isn’t selfish and rude, he’s dumb and impulsive. He leaps before he looks and assumes by only what he sees in front of him. Even in the final episode he assumes that Nine would be even just a smidge like his Tails, the ‘real’ Tails, but he ISNT Tails, he is Nine.

But the whole thing about all of this, is that he is learning. Shadow calls him out on trusting the fox to much, Rebel- heck- everyone says he comes to cause trouble, and they’re right, he does.

From what I’ve seen from the start of season 1 to the end of season 2, I have seen this hedgehog learn through his mistakes, even just slightly. Remember, each season is like 8 episodes. Pretty much right after his tussle with Chaos Sonic, you can see him become a little less annoying and a little more serious. He’s still a little shit, but he’s working to lessen that so things like this doesn’t happen again.

And for his actions towards people. One prevalent example I’ve heard people complain about is that he goes in for affection, when cannon sonic doesn’t do that. And while they are right, I think him going in for his hug with Shadow and Nine make sense for the story.

During the events of Prime, Sonic has been more or less alone, not truly alone, but alone. He has his friends stripped from him, distorted into alternate versions of themselves that have no idea who he is. And this, seeing all of this, it’s hurting him. He wants his friends back, he wants them to be fixed and everything to be back to normal. But right now they aren’t, and it’s getting harder for him to let go of that (proof with his thoughts on Nine).

When he sees Shadow again, he thinks he’s like the others, some other version of him that somehow came into the void with him through one of the Shatter spaces. But when he realizes that he remembers him, that he is the real shadow, he is absolutely ecstatic. FINALLY someone who hasn’t changed, someone who isn’t split into three or more other versions of himself, finally he has the real deal.

I view him hugging shadow out of pure joy and impulse, grabbing onto him and hugging him because finally he has someone who remembers their world before it was broken. Plus, I think Sonic is a tiny bit more physical with Shadow anyways (mostly through violence). I think he’d straight out hug whoever else was in shadows position if they also were the ‘original’ version of themselves.

In conclusion; I think that this little dumb fucker is getting too much hate and too much comparison to his cannon counterpart when he isn’t his cannon counterpart, mostly because the creators said that this show is very cannon accurate, when there’s only a few things to be cannon.

Criticize him all you want, I know I do. But don’t shit on him just cause he does things OOC when (at least I think) that’s not the point of him in the show.

Damn, that was a lot of writing. I just really like this dork

#weirdoz rambles #rambles #rants #textpost #sonic prime

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havenesc · 2 months ago

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I am having a blast reading through your rancher Jason au (and the horsegirl one too!) LOVE the slightly spooky resurrected Jason, it's so fun!

And Jason in your art looks so youthful, especially without the white streak🥺🥺 The resemblance to baby Robin Jay is just. ouugh. He's even smiling and laughing!! Imagine the emotional crisis Bruce would go through if he finds a photo of him like that.

Since I'm a city person who knows nothing about ranching: what are some of the things they have to do? does Jason have a favorite or most despised task?

WAHHHH thank you!! I imagine Jason has like. You know the light reflection in animals' eyes when you shine a flashlight in the difference? He probably gets shot at at least once by his well-meaning colleagues if he has to step out for something at night and they're also out there. God help him.

I think DC's biggest drawback on Jason (art-wise) is making him look like he's 35 with a mortgage and the IRS knocking on his door -- I know that's not old, but half the heartbreaking thing about Jason is that he's like. Nineteen. He's so young. At oldest he's like 24. He shouldn't be swimming in that soft baby fat, but he should still be youthful. Thank you anon I absolutely have a scene planned where Bruce sees his smiling happy photos and god he can't even remember when he saw those expressions on Jason's face it hurts

FULL DISCLAIMER, I only worked somewhat on a ranching operation as a small kid running the cattle chutes and only because the cowboys thought it was funny that I had to use my whole body weight to lift the chute divider. I worked on a horse ranch in Texas for most of my life (and still do on weekends) but that's not the same as a north rural Montana ranching! I have been doing a lot of research to compensate so I'm not just flying by the seat of my anecdotal evidence pants.

They have a lot of tasks -- there's no such thing as a comprehensive list, as ranching changes what needs doing by the season, the week, the day, but there's all sorts of things.

Tagging calves' ears, branding, vaccinating, sorting (weaning). Cows get moved from pasture to pasture depending on how the pasture is looking to keep it growing. Fencelines have to be checked and mended, lest the cows get in with another rancher's herd. Hay needs to be grown and cut and baled -- some of it to keep for the winter months, some of it to sell to other ranchers. Sometimes other ranchers need help with chores, so you go over there to assist for the day. Sometimes cattle get lost between moving from point A to point B, and you have to go into the bush to recover the cattle. Sometimes you have a bull that tears down a fence and he's a mean sonofabitch and it takes three people on horseback alternating between dragging him forward and running away from him to get him back where he belongs.

Horses need care too. Feeding, bringing up from the pasture, maintenance. Some horses need to be broke to ride, and then it's very common to ride the young, spooky (term for flighty) inexperienced horses out for menial task days like moving stock or checking fences, so they become dependable ranch stock like the older ones when it comes time to do real work like sorting or handling cattle up close for branding/doctoring. Some days you don't work with the cows at all, your tractor for moving hay is down and it's up to you to figure out how to fix it.

I'd say Jason's favorite task is probably moving cows. It's a long ass day, guaranteed to be 10-12 hours, but it's somewhat uncomplicated -- this would be the time where most of the hands start fucking around with each other and making a lot of jokes and daring each other to do real dumb shit that makes McLaren yell at them.

He likes it a lot less when it's bringing cows out of the foothills with a lot of thick brush, but it's still a good day's work.

His least favorite is breaking ice in water troughs in the rough winter. That shit sucks. I don't care who you are. Despite having a mallet, his hands always get wet, and there's always the risk of being caught out in a sudden snowstorm depending on the pasture.

#jason rancher au #jason todd #i think jason would be very adept at looking at the mechanisms of a tractor and fixing it. not his favorite thing though.#i also think he likes calving season bc it's stressful but it's rewarding work for the most part #and mclaren has to tell him he can't take the loss of a calf personally even though mclaren knows because he ALSO takes it personally #jason's frozen stare when they go to town and everyone. and i mean everyone. because this happens in rural areas.#starts singing along to 'ive got friends in low places' when it comes on in the bar and he's like. is this a cULT #anyways i have lots of thoughts.

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moviesludge · 1 month ago

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guy from high school added me on fb a few months ago. i was never really close with him. he was more of a friend of a friend type. i thought I remembered him getting involved in military somehow. And I remember it seeming like he was one of those guys that is very intense. like you get the vibe that he might snap some day and kill somebody or something. freaked me out a bit but I think he disappeared back then. So he pops up as a friend request a couple of months ago. Super courteous and polite guy but political vibes were off to me even though he didn't seem to post anything really overt. Then I posted a MARS ATTACKS painting of three kids that had just beaten down one of the martians with weapons. One of the kids was Black and this guy comes in making a comment about "DEI" something something. I acted like I didn't know what it was and asked him about it. He described it in a sort of innocuous way and I replied like "oh ok" and then he deleted his comment.

He had weighed in a couple times on other posts I made, with a helpful and constructive spirit. He seemed thoughtful and proactive, which I appreciated, but I felt like I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. So Just a few minutes ago, I saw that he posted a link to a Matt Walsh documentary called "what is a woman?". I'm not familiar with that guy or the doc but right away I'm like ughhhh shit. So I look up Matt Walsh on twitter and of course I have him blocked. (I block everybody who sucks), so I check out his profile and of course it's an anti-trans pile of shit doc and the guy describes himself as a "fascist theocracy" guy. I don't consider myself a really sharp guy, but if you're perusing the "market of ideas" or whatever and you see "FASCIST THEOCRACY" you can stop reading. And if you don't, there is something seriously wrong with you.

So you know. 5 or 10 years ago I might have messaged the guy and had a conversation telling him that I don't want to be friends with someone who is into stupid hateful shit like that and posts about it, but I've tried that a few times and it goes about as well as you can imagine. I'm not interested in explaining why you should shut the fuck up and let people live their lives the way that feels right to them, as long as they aren't hurting anyone. That is some basic life shit, and I think you either get that or you don't. And if you don't get that and you feel the need to spread some stupid chudbrain garbage like that, I do not want to be your friend, no matter how nice and helpful and courteous you act towards me. And maybe that's shameful of me. I own that. Because I am far too angry of a person to have the patience to entertain the idea of trying to guide people back from embracing hate and fascism. I know it's probably better to be a good influence to people like that, but I need all the peace and calm I can get in my life right now (especially now), and I go from 0 to psychotically pissed off and stressed out when I have to see people floating dumb hateful garbage in my periphery. Maybe I can work on this in the future and achieve my own robust source of patience and peace, but I'm not there yet.

I've already cut ties with a couple of people I used to work with who were more or less acquaintances. It was the same type of thing as this military guy but I probably was a little closer to them and liked them a lot more. I worked with the guy at Blockbuster and he ended up marrying this girl who worked at the cafe at Borders where I worked. I don't know if he did, but she came from a really religious family. They were both really funny, nice people. Over the years she started to post about all this nutrition stuff. Like you shouldn't eat something that has x thing in it or y thing in it, etc. And then she actually became a sort of social media nutritionist. I don't know if it was like a full time job or not but it always seemed just slightly weird to me. Like the weird you feel when you have a friend who is just way too likely to believe a conspiracy theory and go down an internet rabbit hole. But I never saw anything really overt from either of them. And then J6 happened and I remember the husband was like arguing with me about how the rioters were "trying to fight a wealthy elite system" or something like that. And I was just so pissed off about it that I was like extremely adamant in my replies that these people were all scumbags and shitheads working for trump. So I guess I overwhelmed him with how pissed off I was and he responded like "ok then they should lock em all up" but I think he was just sarcastically agreeing with me so I would stop telling him about exactly what was really happening.

I recently heard someone mention that the nutritionist thing is some kind of common red flag for weirdo fascist qanon adjacent bullshit. I had suspected that to be true but was never really sure until very recently, just after the election when she was praising trump and rfk for the things they did and planned to do. That's where I finally had to draw the line. Although I did see a photo that one of them posted and one of their friends was wearing a "let's go brandon" shirt. I probably should have known then. I think I did but I didn't want to believe it.

I guess this is a good time to praise the people that stay friends with people like these and do their best to influence them. I've read stories about people who really did help their friends back from the verge by meeting them where they are and kind of showing them the harm of what they're doing. It's crazy because I see friends of mine who stay friends with people like this and I like want to punch their friend through the internet. I just cannot stand them. If you can tolerate that shit, you're a more patient and understanding person than I am, and I applaud your efforts.

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naokiscoffee · 1 year ago

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What makes Itazura na Kiss: Love in Tokyo so special?

This is probably my twelfth thousand re-watch of this drama, but this is not like all the other rewatches. I have decided to make this one special by using it to analyse the drama in more depth, and attempt to uncover why I love it as much as I do, despite all it’s flaws. I am writing this as I watch the episodes, so it might be considered somewhat of a commentary.

Season 01 Episode 01

Starting off with the first episode, the opening scene is fantastic in my opinion. I love how we are getting introduced to Kotoko in the comfort of her own room, and getting a peek into her hearts deepest wish. I honestly think that this might be what made me like this version of Kotoko from the get go.

However, technically, the actual first scene of the story is the iconic confession scene (if you would even call it that). I am going to go on a tangent here and just say that I am an absolute fan of her letter, but I will get back to that in a later episode.

The way she is nervous and excited before confessing and the way he flat out rejects her before she even has the chance to confess always makes me feel crushed for her, and is the reason why I initially disliked him. But now that I am actually analysing it, it is less harsh than how I’ve always perceived it (or this might just be me trying to explain it away).

Hear me out, consider the implication that he has a whole queue of girls that like him, drool over him and confess to him in school, his reaction/rejection is really not that surprising. Imagine receiving confessions from a bunch of girls, when you just want to live your life in peace … that must get old and tiresome fairly quickly. Additionally, the fact that the whole entire school is talking about the rejection might explain why he didn't accept her letter; had he accepted it (even if he rejected her afterwards), the whole school would probably assume that they were dating. On the other hand it makes me think, why would the whole school be interested in someone confessing? are we back in kindergarten?

We see later on that she still has that card with her. I think that for her, getting rid of it would feel like getting rid of her feelings for him, which is why she holds on to it.

Anyways, I find it quite ironic when Kotoko’s friends tell her “you and Irie are from different worlds” . Their worlds are literally going to forcibly merge under one roof very very soon.

Another random thought I got, like a lot of my thoughts are, was why did Kotoko like Naoki, and not like Kinnouske? I mean he might not be handsome, he might not be smart, he might not be rich, but he is hardworking, talented and most importantly, he liked Kotoko, and was always nice towards her. This version’s Kinnouske has always been my favourite one. I think this version does a good job at portraying him as a three dimensional person, rather than a comic relief kind of personality *cough* Itazura Na Kiss 1996 *cough*.

When I started to pay more attention, I realised that although I do love Kinnouske, I do find him to often do things based on his own feelings, and does not consider what Kotoko wants. For example, I cant help but feel that he is a bit insensitive for being happy when Kotoko is sad after deciding to ‘give up’ on Naoki. This is a small detail, and perhaps I am reading too much into it, but I do feel that Itazura Na Kiss is all about the details. He sort of redeems himself for it by asking his friends to come and help her move, but soon it goes to shit again, which I will come to later on.

I really like — at this point, everything really, but anyways — the reoccurring mentioning of “less possible than getting hit by a shooting star”, which is a kind of teaser to what is to come later on in the show. Although I’ve always thought that the reason for their house being destroyed in this version to be a bit dumb, I admit, I do like the thought and metaphor behind it, so I will turn I blind eye to it. I also find it hilarious how it ended up all over the news.

Kotoko’s extremely optimistic outlook despite everything that happened is perhaps her most charming personality trait. It makes me feel that her optimism is somehow what everything work out for her in the end.

Now, to one of the scenes I dislike most in this story. I am always tempted to skip the first episode altogether to avoid it. And that’s the scene where Kinnouske is collecting donations for Kotoko. Here we see Kin-chan’s good intentions having not so good results. I get the feeling that he does what he thinks is helpful for her, and never once stops to consider her feelings or ask her opinion on it, and the way she gets annoyed with him tells me that she’s not that fond of this either, despite what his intentions were.

Back to Naoki. Looking at the size of that entrance, he could have 100% just walked around Kotoko and Kinnouske and gone in. Heck, following the little pattern we have so far, wouldn’t he purposefully avoid them to maintain a quiet and peaceful life? Now, he did just the contrary and approached them. Considering the fact that by the end of the episode he already knows about the arrangement (of her going to his home to stay there with her father), it would be safe to assume that at this moment in time, he already knows that she would stay in his house. This is supported by his response to her “preferring to die over taking his money”; “are you sure you want to tell me that?”. Therefore I assume that he approaches her out of curiosity.

If you pay close attention to this interaction, you will notice that Naoki did not say one thing that was wrong or out of line. Naoki giving Kotoko the money was not very nice. But more than anything, it was quite confusing. He told her “If I donate this money, you won’t argue with me anymore”. Now, Kinnouske was the one arguing with Naoki, so why would Naoki tell Kotoko that? Is it because he sees her as the most reasonable one, or rather, is it because they’re ‘her’ friends (thus making her responsible for them)?

Kotoko was the one with an explosive reaction in this situation [although she was in the wrong, I like how she stood by her friend eventhough they were fighting a few moments ago (if she realised the previously mentioned point that is).], and was more than a bit mean when saying “do you even have friends?”. Here we see just how much of an opposite to her he is. Instead of having an explosive reaction like Kotoko had, Naoki just finds her reaction amusing and leaves calmly.

Now to when she goes with her father to the Irie household. Naoki’s mother’s (Noriko’s) comment of “you and I seem like we were meant to meet” and the fact that she knows that she’s in the same school as Naoki tells me that he told her about Kotoko; which in turn makes me think that she left a memorable impression on him. Kotoko’s reaction to seeing Naoki is Hilarious, especially te part where she’s too shocked, and is not shy to say “I’m just do surprised … because Iri-chan-san and Irie-kun don’t look alike at all” (I really am starting to realise and understand why Naoki finds her amusing).

Another one of those small details; the way her father scoots away right off the bat when he saw Yuki asking her a question about a kanji character, and pretending to look at a random décor piece kills me (It’s nice to keep in mind; despite how similar Kotoko might sometimes be to her dad, he still has more awareness of his own ‘stupidness’ than her).

I recently watched one of @Machitsuki2 ‘s analysis videos, and like she pointed out, I did in fact notice how Kotoko was going straight to the food and cakes, while Naoki was mainly only sipping coffee (even during breakfast). This will become really important later on.

Lastly, I love the interaction between Noriko and Kotoko when she takes her up to show her her room; Kotoko found a mother she never had, and Noriko found the daughter she never had. They are the first puzzle pieces that fit into each other perfectly.

When Naoki comes in and tells Kotoko that she took Yuki’s room, I get the feeling that rather than an insult it served to make Kotoko understand why Yuki disliked her so much. I might be a bit delulu, but I kind of feel that Naoki did this on purpose? anyone?

When Noriko asks Kotoko “do you like(suki) Sukiyaki?” and Kotoko looks at her (in Naoki’s direction) and confidently answers “I like it! (suki-desu!)” almost feels directed at Naoki. It is in fact the first time he hears her say it. This next part I had to go back and watch once more; Naoki only starts being mean to her when she pulled the bag from him (not wanting his help) and he saw the letter she wrote him drop out of it. I do wonder if he is mean to her because of that letter, or maybe because he thought she was rude towards him?

To be continued…(maybe)

#itazura na kiss #itazura na kiss love in tokyo #aihara kotoko #miki honoka #irie naoki #yuki furukawa #Ikezawa kinnouske #yuki yamada #character analysis #story analysis #drama #jdrama #japan #s01e01 #episode 1 #recap #review

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