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[kumar-pradeep]

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[g1rld1ary]

wrapping paper - james potter x reader

wc: 873

cw: literally nothing just fluff!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Your tiny apartment was filled with warm yellow light, a dozen lamps switched on in favour of the aggressive white overhead lights. In the corner of the living room-kitchen-entryway sat a Christmas tree, eclectically decorated with colourful tinsel, nostalgic ornaments and twinkling fairy lights.

A random array of books, drinks and other objects lay strewn across the floor, organised into specific but nonsensical piles that only made sense to you and James, divided by a mass of wrapping paper scraps and tape. You sat on one end of the living room humming along to Bing Crosby whilst James sat a few feet away, allegedly wrapping gifts but more realistically creating a mess for the both of you to clean up later.

You’d learned recently through a Christmas discussion that James had never wrapped presents the muggle way so that had obviously become the theme of your holiday season. James wasn’t the biggest fan of it, he thought it was a waste of time to not be using magic, but put up with it for the sole reason of spending time with you. You’d tried your absolute hardest to teach him, but something about the folding and sticking was simply not clicking for your golden boy.

You couldn’t help the river of giggles that poured from your mouth, encouraged by James’ seemingly total inability to wrap a box. A box! Something oddly shaped you would have understood more, but a plain square box is the wrapped gift. Surely if people had been doing it for hundreds of years it couldn’t be that difficult, yet there you both were, James becoming increasingly frustrated at how entertaining you found the whole ordeal.

“You’re making a mess,” You managed, hand over your mouth to cope with the slow destruction of your cute, tidy living room. A few giggles cut through the horror.

“Shut up and pass me the tape,” He grumbled, folding the paper around a package in a way that you were sure defied the laws of physics. Your giggles devolved into full laughter, putting away the sharp pointy scissors before you impaled yourself as you rolled on the carpet, hysterical and maybe slightly drunk on eggnog.

“There’s more tape than wrapping paper!” James shook his head vehemently at your statement, holding the project in his hands.

“Nuh-uh, there’s a whole heap of paper here! Three layers, maybe…” He trailed off in embarrassment, dropping the package to roll sadly on the carpet. “I don’t understand why we’re even doing it without magic. It would be so much faster! Then we could get to the good parts of the holidays.” He wiggled his eyebrows in what was undoubtedly an attempt to be seductive. You shook your head, not in the mood to get tape in your hair if James pounced on you. Plus, you had a Christmas party later in the evening which was precisely why you were wrapping presents in the first place.

“We're doing it because it’s tradition in my family to wrap presents together the muggle way, and I want to start traditions with you, Jamie.” James’ eyes softened, pools of adoration as he undid the present and started again more gently. It wasn’t exactly good, but he was getting better.

“When we have kids they’re gonna be better at this than you when they’re toddlers,” You teased him gently, but James couldn’t bring himself to reply, enamoured with the way you said ‘when we have kids’ so easily, like it was a no brainer.

James’ arm around you was warm as you stood on Remus and Sirius’ doorstep, rubbing your side softly. He knocked on the door as you held the grocery store bag full of gifts, one of James’ Frankenstein creations sitting on the top.

Remus opened the door, smile widening when he saw you both.

“Come in!” He ushered you both inside, enfolding you in tight hugs one by one. You kissed his cheek as you passed, making a beeline for the Christmas tree.

“The fuck are those?” Marlene said from the couch, using the martini in her hand to gesture to the admittedly extremely ugly presents you were arranging next to those already there.

“Don’t even start with this, McKinnon,” James rolled his eyes playfully, “I’ve been in a losing battle all bloody day.”

“James and I shared the wrapping between us,” You supplied, causing uproarious laughter and closer examination of the gifts by the rest of the small party.

“You’re useless, mate,” Sirius clapped James on the shoulder as if his own wrapped presents were any better.

“Alright! It’s the thought that counts and we happen to have bought you all some lovely gifts, so lets focus on that shall we?” He began to hand out everyones gifts, effectively ending the verbal attacks raining down on him.

You all sat around Sirius and Remus’ living room, opening gifts and laughing together over eggnog. You might’ve been getting older, but at least you had your friends. At least you had James, who’d always make your wrapping look at least a little better than it was.

[achaotichuman]

Recently I delved into the depths of my docs to find the first fanfiction I wrote for ACOTAR that never saw the light of day.

Obviously it's horrible writing, but I like the premise and since I am addicted to piling more projects on top of my scheldule I rewrote the first chapter and redid the plot for it.

Originally these events take place a year or two after the war with Hybern, and everything is the exact same EXCEPT for somethin Tamlin is doing.

I changed it so that this is a fic of what would have happened if Tamlin didn't give over that drop of power to bring Rhysand back.

Anyway, here's there rewritten chapter. Tell me if you guys like it!

“Be happy Feyre.”

The words nearly tumbled out of his mouth. The carefully loving words that wrapped like ivy around his throat, choking him, those last cords of love that had twisted into something else. That had made him soft for her. He had offered his heart like ripe fruit on a silver platter for her to take and now look at where he stood. 

Bloodied, gore and guts clinging to his armour like a second layer of skin, mud caked on his legs and arms. Hair a mess, dirty and disgusting. His people, his armies, whom he had gone to his knees to earn the trust of them back, after she twisted their minds, undid their memories, stared in every personal thought to create a new story for all of them. One that fit her narrative. 

The damage she had caused, the things she had taken. What she had done, what she had cost not just them but all of Pryhtian. Destroying the Courts she had saved not even a year ago. 

Now, on her knees, holding the man who had assaulted her night after night after night whilst she vomited, cried and danced and laughed, and been drugged. She screamed his name whilst she cling to his lifeless form. 

The good for nothing bastard Lord was finally dead. Tamlin should have breathed a sigh of relief. 

Instead every High Lord stood around awkwardly, as one after the other they had willingly handed over their magic despite what this man had done to them. Despite how much they all hated him. They did it for his grief-stricken mate who screamed for them to help. To bring him back the same way she had come back. 

But he was dead for what he had done. Giving over power to remake the Cauldron, the mother had taken his very soul with the magic, the price paid to put the world back together. 

Truly, who were they to defy her?

Tamlin stood up straight, when Feyre stared up at him, eyes filled with tears as she saw his stone-cold face. 

“Please,” She screamed, “Please I’ll do anything!”

Green eyes cut from her to the other Lords. None made eye-contact with him. All looking elsewhere, anywhere, the grey-red clouds above, the torn battlefield layered with bodies on decaying bodies, the rivers running red with blood. Some of them, no doubt reminded of Amarantha’s reign of terror by the bloodshed, looked to the muddy ground. 

But none dared look in his eye, all knew what she had done to him. Her reasons for doing so. They also all knew what he had done to her. 

But staring down at her now, thinking back on all of it. 

Thinking back on the slander of Court, the destruction of his people. The lying, the scheming, the pure hatred. 

Then there was one final thought that struck true. 

What would they have all done if it had been him dead on the floor and not Rhysand?

The image of his bloodied mother, his dead brothers, even as cruel as they were, flashed before his eyes. 

“No.” He said. Standing tall and true, “I will not hand over my magic.”

“You fucking monster!” A girl with gold streaked blonde hair lunged at him from out of nowhere. Morrigan. 

She didn’t get far, from where she was knees deep in the mud. A flash of gold and a short-sudden scream from her. She was pinned to the floor with golden threads. Not painful, but certainly startling, and no doubt humiliating. 

Tamlin couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Feyre stared up at him. Her wet blue eyes boring into his own with a deep-cut grief that would have broken him just a few weeks ago. 

Now. 

Now all he felt was mild pity, and a distant sadness, for the girl who had been killed under the mountain and never brought back. 

“Who's to say the real Rhysand would even return?” Tamlin said, voice mockingly kind, “When the first time we brought a human back, she was not the same at all?”

Feyre’s saddened eyes turned wrathful, her beautiful face twisting into a deadly scowl. All that hatred, focused solely on him. 

“You were what led me to my death! And now you refuse to even help him!” She screamed, the pain and grief tearing through her, along with the emptiness of where her mating bond used to be no doubt fueling her rage. 

“You led yourself to your death as did he.” Tamlin said, perfectly calm and stoic. She wouldn’t get a rise out of him. Not anymore. 

Tamlin looked to the others, “Think about all that male has done to us. Think of what his mate has brought down upon our lands. And maybe rethink tossing your magic carelessly at whatever dead corpse lays before you.”

“He is not a corpse!” Feyre shrieked. Her cries and screams becoming distant. Vague. As weariness bore heavy on him. For the mortal, the living, unfortunately exhaustion was a natural occurrence. 

Tamlin’s eyes went down to Rhysand. Least he’ll never be exhausted again. 

The thought was cruel, and maybe he was a horrible man for feeling relief. Staring into that lifeless face, knowing he was dead forever. Gone. Bound to never bring him misfortune again. 

“You are a heartless male.” A seething voice said somewhere near him. Tamlin looked towards where a limping Illyrian with blue siphons hissed, looking like he wanted to tear the High Lord to shreds but his own limitations and injuries prevented it. 

A cold, humourless smile broke out on his face. The Spring Lord looked down upon Feyre. 

“Give him your own magic.” He said, tilting his head, “Why don’t you hand over those drops of power you claim to make yourself so, so powerful?”

She was silent, as tears continued to stream down her face, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Oh right, you can’t.”

He would leave after this and never see her face again, he hoped, but he didn’t bite his tongue to prevent the final blow, “Our magic is the only thing holding you together. You claim yourself so powerful. Above the rest of us entirely. The self-proclaimed High Lady of the Night Court, equal to the most powerful in all the Earth. But you really aren’t. You need our magic to survive.”

Tamlin looked back at Rhysand, and didn’t hide the relief on his face, “You can’t bring him back without us.”

The Nightmare was gone. Now all that was left was the cleanup. 

Feyre screamed, whether it was an insult, her hatred or simply incoherent, he didn’t know. He winnowed away. Back to Spring. 

It was time for a cleanup. 

And he had plans to make things right in his Court. In Prythian in its entirety. 

***

I probably will not continue this fic since I have so much I need to write already, but I think its fun to go back and reflect on my old ideas and rewrite to compare to how my form was before and how it is now.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 11

With Initial Concepts of Sanji's Skypiea Outfit

Main Themes: V̴i̵l̴l̸a̶i̸n̷ ̴S̵a̴n̴j̵i̷, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Law asked to play judge in the first round so he can properly gauge what he's up against. Sanji gladly entertained this to keep him interested and took the step forward to make the first move of their little game.

He positions himself ten metres away from a nearby tree that's angled over the edge of the riverbank. After warming up a couple of times by jumping on the spot, he runs up to it, extends the claws of his gauntlet then begins to use all fours to gradually increase his speed as he clambered up, twisting around the trunk several times, defying gravity, before leaping off the very top–his movements barely seen but the trail of stripped leaves and bark that he leaves behind. Mid-air, he does a series of impressive twirls and flips before landing flawlessly with a roll on the other side of the river. Standing upright, he takes a small bow then raises a hand to gesture over Zoro to take his turn in a challenging way.

Law claps slowly. The sound echoes across. He's not looking too impressed.

The swordsman cups a hand over his mouth and shouts.

Zoro

BOO! SEEN IT!

Sanji

ACK–! I was trying to show Law an example of what we can do!

Law

It's pretty standard even for you.

I'll give you basic points for ordinary.

Sanji gasps sharply. He throws a hand over his cheek like he'd just been slapped in the face, feeling offended.

Sanji

B–BASIC?!

Let's see you do better then, moss for brains!

“Standard”.... “Ordinary”....

The blonde grumbles the last couple of words grumpily as he kicks pebbles and sticks on the ground.

Zoro smirks at his reaction then calmly approaches a different tree. This one, unsurprisingly, has long vines dangling over it. He begins to climb it without a rush.

Law

Oh, here we go….

Sanji

What's with him and swinging…?

When the swordsman reaches the topmost branch that he can stand on, he reaches for a thick vine hanging in front of him and gives it a couple of strong tugs to test its durability. Confident it can take his weight, he clears his throat and grips the vine with both hands.

Sanji and Law both look at the swordsman in anticipation, expecting that he'll do something extraordinary given that the man had wanted to swing since the moment they arrived on the island.

After a pregnant pause, Zoro leaps off the branch, bellowing out loud booming noises projected from the back of his throat. There was nothing fancy in his swing. It was all just long guttural singing that echoed through the jungle. When he finally lets go and lands in front of Sanji, he looks absolutely pleased with himself, placing his hands on his hips.

Sanji

That's… that's it?

Zoro

Told ya it was good.

Sanji

After all that, that's all you got?

Law teleports, appearing in an instant between them.

Law

Zoro takes the round.

Sanji

WHAT?!?

Zoro

Hah!

Sanji

But why?!

Law

Points for… the unexpected.

Sanji throws his hands up in the air in frustration as Zoro raises a clenched fist in the air in victory.

—

They trudge through a particularly lush terrain. Zoro walked ahead, slicing long shrubs and leaves out of the way as the two followed behind him. Law has a snobbish look on his face.

Law

Not a good start, Pirate King-ya. Are you sure you played this game before?

It was Sanji's turn to look like he wanted to smack the man in the head. He takes a long drag of his smoke to compose himself before stomping on the leftover cigarette butt.

Zoro

I've seen him do crazy shit but that was just sad.

The blonde snaps and grabs the swordsman at the back of his collar to pull him face to face.

Sanji

Cocky shitty swordsman aren't you? You're supposed to be supportive of me!

Zoro didn't look surprised, fully remembering that Sanji has a certain temper whenever his ego gets damaged. He shrugs his shoulders.

Zoro

Hey, you set the stakes high. I can't let either one of you take advantage of my Warlord status.

And if you know Traffy, he has a certain love for spontaneity.

Still feeling pissed, Sanji lets go of the man. He walks ahead and lights another smoke.

Sanji

What does that even mean?

Zoro and Law follow him. The swordsman sheaths his sword, yawns then rests his hands at the back of his head.

Zoro

I mean, I wasn't too surprised when Luffy told me he's seeing him. At first, I thought it was just a once off–

Law

Zoro-ya!

Zoro

What? Was it supposed to be a secret?

Sure made that clear when you made out drunk in the middle of The Sunny–

Law

Enough already!

Sanji spins, walking backwards. His face lit up.

Sanji

No–tell me more! Traffy, I rarely hear anything about you and the Straw Hat!

Law pockets his hands, looking smaller with his hunched shoulders while grumbling to himself. There’s a tint of pink in his ears.

 Sanji

Trafalgar D. Water Law…

Law

WHAT?

Sanji

You’re in love!

Zoro grins widely.

Law

ACK–

Sanji mirrored the swordsman’s smile. He teasingly prods.

Sanji

So…? Tell us how it happened….

Law

No.

Zoro

But he is, though.

Law

Shut up or I’ll slice your head off and keep it in a bag for the rest of the trip.

Sanji

Ohohoho! You’re cute when you’re defensive.

Zoro

Careful, the first time I met Traffy, I saw him behead a bunch of Marines. Left them alive too.

Sanji

Huh! What a useful power.

Sanji turns around to walk forwards. He dips his head down so his face is hidden behind his fringe, nursing the cigarette between his lips.

Sanji

Still, I don’t think you should be ashamed when you’re in love with someone.

Zoro and Law quietly observe him, detecting some sadness in his tone of voice. The swordsman considers his statement very carefully, suddenly having doubts if the man shares the same feelings as he does, or if there’s something that he did wrong.

Law

I have a feeling you’ll like him.

The blonde’s head tilts slightly towards him, listening closely.

Law

He…has this…effect on people. Even animals. He brightens up the room wherever he goes….

There is a moment of silence as the other two process that comment. 

Zoro

I miss him too, Traffy.

Law averts his gaze to the side, trying to hide a smile and the ever reddening state of his face.

Sanji

I’d like to meet him one day. I keep hearing good things about the guy.

Zoro

He’s one of a kind. You’d know it when you see him.

After this, if you like, I can–

Sanji suddenly stops. He holds his arm out, signalling everyone to halt.

Law follows his instruction but Zoro accidentally bumps into his back.

Law

What is it?

Sanji

I believe I found our next obstacle.

Come on then! And be careful where you step.

The blonde steps aside and pulls back the shrubs to give way for the two to walk through. When they do, they find themselves on a cliffside with a rickety old bridge in front of them that connects their end of the island to the next. It’s barely holding itself together with most of the planks already rotted from weather and age. 

Zoro

Huh. I knew we’d been ascending but I didn’t realise how high up we were already.

Sanji gives one of the support ropes a shake. The bridge wobbles, causing certain planks across the span of the bridge to give away and fall into the White Sea far below.

Law

Zoro-ya, you and me. Let’s do this.

Sanji

So keen! What’s got you all fired up?

Zoro

He’s just sore because he’s still shy about the whole Luffy thing.

Law

Am not!

I’ll kick your ass. You’ll see.

Sanji

Hold on, I want to watch from that side.

The blonde takes off his shoes and jumps on the rope that he’d been shaking. Effortlessly, he balances himself with one leg with his other raised up to his chest. He begins walking on the bridge with ease, still smoking his cigarette with one hand and holding his shoes with the other. He spreads out his arms now and then to shift his weight when gusts of wind cause the bridge to wobble slightly.

Zoro and Law watch his nerve-wrecking tightrope act as he makes his way over the White Sea. Both watching him nervously but also in silent amazement. Feeling that he had eyes on him, Sanji stops on his tracks and turns.

Sanji

What?

Zoro

How are you doing that?

Law

You remind me of one of those circus acts.

Sanji scoffs at that and breathes out smoke. He looked almost angry at the topic mentioned.

Sanji

I was part of one, when I was younger. I was taken in by a pirate troupe before they sold me to…you know what? I-it’s a long story.

I’ll meet you on the other side!

Sanji sounded like he didn't mean to reveal those details out loud. He spins and continues his way across.

Zoro and Law share a look, intrigued by the hint of the blonde's not very well known past which clearly caused a sudden shift in the man's demeanour. The swordsman continued to eye him, but now, more worriedly. He makes a point to make sure he checks in on him later as he knew he didn’t like talking about his history surrounding his life as a slave. He wonders if talking about Luffy had somehow triggered memories.

When Sanji gets to the other side, he vaults down on land and gives them a wave, signalling to go.

Law

So, Zoro-ya?

You did win the last round after all. Do you want to go first?

Zoro

No, I… I need to think.

Law

Don’t hurt yourself.

Zoro

Tch.

Law flicks his wrist and casts his Room ability.

Law

Tact!

Zoro jumps back to give the man some space, fully aware of what comes next.

The ground directly beneath the doctor floats up, shaped like a miniature island enough to hold his weight. It parts itself away from the main earth to carry him midair. Adjacent to the extracted ground, more mini islands pop up and begin to follow the one he’s standing on. They begin to spin around him as he flies towards the other side of the cliff.

The swordsman watches Law make an impressive show of his flight to Sanji. He should be focused on thinking of different ways that he could win the round so he can get two points ahead of everyone. Instead, he finds that he has his mind set on something else.

When he sees Law finish with a spectacular landing with his Tact ability, Zoro walks behind the nearest and tallest tree he could find. With one smooth swipe of Wado, the tree tips forward. The tall end of it crashes loudly on the other side, creating his very own bridge. He jumps up and speedily walks through.

On the other side, he’s met with Sanji’s bright blue eyes and wide grin–a sight that will never get old in his opinion. 

Sanji

Again, with the little-to-no-effort attempt? You realise that I like it when people make a show of–mmph!

Zoro wraps a hand around the blonde’s hair and the other around the small of his back, yanking him into a sudden kiss. He tips the man backwards, lowering him towards the ground. He didn’t hesitate to push his tongue into the man’s mouth to pleasure him, causing surprised moans from the blonde in reaction. Sanji wraps his arms around his neck while his leg hooks around his back.

Law

OH, COME ON! THIS IS NOT FAIR!

Law spins around swiftly, walking the opposite direction to avoid seeing the couple in action.

The swordsman pulls back to look at Sanji eye to eye. He receives fluttering eyelids and a flustered face in return. The blonde reaches out to caress his face tenderly as they breathe in each other’s air for a moment. Right there and then, Zoro felt the utmost need to confess his love to him but decided against it because of the doctor’s presence. He wants him to know. He needs him to know.

The blonde giggles and licks his lips seductively.

Sanji

Aren’t you full of surprises today?

I believe I’ve reached a verdict….

Zoro straightens them both up. Sanji runs his hands over his open robe, fixing the crumpled fabric, then takes a step back.

Sanji

Law wins the round.

Law turns back rapidly. Zoro’s mouth is agape.

Zoro and Law

EHH?!?

Sanji shrugs, raising his hands as if to surrender.

Sanji

You made a great point earlier–the stakes are high. I can’t be biased just because we’re fucking. And I did say that I like it when people make a show of things. And Law's was just flashier. Nice try, but you can’t buy me like that.

Zoro felt hurt. Not because he didn’t win the round but because it didn't sound like he made much of an impact judging on the blonde’s tone of voice. He now has more doubts if his feelings for the man are reciprocated or felt at all. He considers the fact that the blonde is still allied with Doflamingo. Sanji had made it clear that they have had prior history together but he’s never specifically stated where they stand or what his intentions are with the other Warlord since getting together with him. He remembers Niji’s warning to him that he’s just a phase, making him even more worried.

Speechless, he watches the blonde walk off to the dirt path ahead.

—

They approach a waterfall in front of them. While they see a safer way around by following the path, Zoro suggests that they climb it instead as their next obstacle. The other two agreed and named him the next judge for the round.

Law

Think you can handle this, basic man?

Sanji lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag of smoke before exhaling.

Sanji

Tch. Bring it, mediocre doctor.

Zoro speedily runs up the rockface until he reaches the top of the waterfall so he could watch from above. He peeks over the edge and gives the two contenders a wave to signal them to go.

Law doesn't give the blonde a chance to make the first move. He takes a deep breath, then withdraws his sword and slices a nearby boulder at its base, detaching it from the ground. Following his swing, he swipes his blade upwards, slicing the boulder into smaller pieces and sending them up high. An aura of blue surrounds the area almost immediately, in which the doctor begins to make a series of teleportation and aerobatic jump maneuvers to climb his way up–zigzagging in the air, swapping places with the stones that he'd sent flying. At the very tip of the cliff, he lands gracefully on his feet, exhaling the air he'd been holding in his lungs. He gives Zoro a casual tip of his hat, making everything that he's just done look effortless.

Zoro nods back and raises an impressed brow as if to say “not bad”.

Out of nowhere, the grounds start shaking, and a giant Sky Shark bursts out from downstream the waterfall. Zoro and Law had to jump back to avoid the eventual drop as the giant creature lands in a huge crash by the riverbank. It raises its head up in the sky, roaring an earthshaking cry before it collapses dead on the ground in front of the two. Sanji pulls out his bloody claws from the back of its head and straightens up, his face full of pride from the successful hunt. Law presumed that he'd controlled the shark’s movements using its nervous system to swim up the cloud stream somehow.

Zoro looks between Sanji and Law, unsure with the decision. A sweatdrop flows down his brow. After some hesitation, he opens his mouth to say something but gets interrupted.

Sanji

Who's hungry? I believe it's dinner time.

Zoro and Law blink at him, then gaze towards the sky. They'd been so focused on the game that they didn't even realise the time. The sun is a couple of hours away from sinking.

Law

SHIT!

Law shuffles through his coat pockets in panic. He pulls out the Skypiea map and scans through it, his eyes shifting left and right rapidly. He lets out a pained groan and slaps his forehead, almost knocking his cap off his head.

Law

Fuck! We've been going the wrong way for at least three hours!!!

Zoro

…I think we're having way too much fun with this.

Sanji hops down from the shark's head and gives that devilish smile of his.

Sanji

But you are… having fun…aren't you?

Zoro takes his time admiring the man's features before smirking back at him.

Zoro

I don't know about Tra-guy, but I am.

Law crosses his arms. Sanji can't help but notice that he's slightly pouting.

Law

I can't say I'm not, I suppose.

Sanji grins at them playfully.

—

Sanji cringes at the way Zoro gutted the giant Sky Shark. Granted, they had limited tools to prepare a proper meal, bringing only what’s necessary that can be used for multiple purposes. One of them is apparently the man’s katana which he thought was overkill. He’d at least hoped that the man would be more efficient with pulling the meat out of the creature.

Zoro had used his swords to cut it open like a mad brute he is. He jerks his sword from its flesh, causing its guts to messily splatter on the ground. Afterwards, he turns his attention to the fins, slicing them clean off before tossing them aside out of his way. Before they fall onto the ground, Sanji catches them one by one.

Sanji

Err…Marimo, you know we can use these right?

Zoro

Hah? But the big chunk of meat isn't in them.

Sanji

While the body should give us enough to last us for at least a week, we can use these to stretch it longer, maybe even another week. These still have some good stuff in it.

Zoro

That’s good–I didn’t know that. Why don’t you prep those for cooking then? I’ll keep at this.

The swordsman begins to slice the shark’s skin open with his katana, tearing the perfect meat that Sanji knew was inside them.

Sanji

H-hey! I uh…why don't we just trade jobs and find us some firewood instead hmm? Maybe set up the fire too while you’re at it.

Zoro

But I got a big sword. This is a big fish.

The blonde carefully lays the giant fins on a pile of large leaves that he had put aside earlier. He rummages through his pack to pull out a leather scroll containing various kitchen knives that he'd borrowed from the Polar Tang. He spreads it out on their makeshift table.

Sanji

I got it covered.

Impressed and surprised with his collection, Zoro follows his instructions and walks off. The sound of trees being felled is heard from a distance.

Law returns to their dedicated campsite with an armful of various herbs and crops. He drops them unceremoniously next to the shark fins. Sanji recognises most of them, much to his relief, but some look alien to him.

Sanji

Thanks. Uh… are those edible?

Law

Most of them. Some I need for medicinal purposes.

Sanji

Why did you mix it all in–?

Law

Is this good to go?

The doctor grabs one of the fins he’s set aside and settles himself on the makeshift table. He begins to cover the meat with some of the herbs he'd collected but the blonde notices that some of the weird-looking ones had been mixed up.

Sanji

They still need to be peeled and cleaned–AHH! DON'T!

D-doctor…why don't you fetch us some water instead?

Law

Hah? Why don’t you do it? I'm already in the middle of this.

Sanji

You're butchering it…. Just–just–

Zoro

Oi, Traffy! I just got a fire going!

Law

Perfect. Let's get to it.

Law grabs a random stick from the ground and skewers the fin messily, bits of loose meat and herbs fall off on the ground. He walks towards Zoro but then a hand grabs onto his coat and pulls him back.

Sanji

ABSOLUTELY NOT!

Seriously, how are you two still alive?!

Zoro and Law

Hah?!

Law

It's just food.

Sanji

Not in that state, it's not!

What's this–? Traffy, did you shove an entire garlic inside it?!

Zoro

I thought you don't give a shit about good food?

Sanji

I care about it being edible!

Sanji yanks the doctor backwards and swipes the skewered fin off his hands.

Sanji

You–get some water. And come back with some more of those vegetables but DON’T just dump them all in a mixed pile with your doctor crap. Sort them out!

And you–clean up this mess! Don't you go camping? If we leave food out it'll attract unwanted creatures while we sleep!

Zoro

Why do I get to clean?

Sanji

You make the mess, you clean it up!

Zoro and Law watch the grumpy man take charge of the whole thing, effectively shooing them away from their made up kitchen station.

—

By nightfall they settled around the fire to feed themselves with Sanji's cooking. They also have extra food that the blonde has portioned and set aside which should last them a couple of weeks. Upon realising that they have to pack them up and carry them for the road, Zoro clears his bag to make way for the food. He starts pulling out bottles of booze that he'd stolen from the Polar Tang which Law wasn't too happy with.

Sanji

Nothing goes to waste.

After giving Law his portion, he winks at Zoro as he hands him his bowl of stir-fry Sky Shark with rice and native produce. Grabbing a bowl for himself, he settles himself next to the swordsman by the fire.

Sanji

The same goes with the booze. We better drink it all up.

Zoro

You read my mind.

Zoro leans over and kisses his cheek lightly.

Zoro

Thanks for the meal, Curlybrows.

Sanji

It's nothing.

Law

Yes, thank you, Mr. Prince-ya. It’s much appreciated.

Sanji

What, are you going to give me a kiss too?

I don’t think Marimo would appreciate that.

Law

Go to hell.

Sitting at the opposite side of the fire, Law takes a bite and audibly groans out loud in pleasure, causing the two to look at him curiously.

The doctor notices them staring and closes his eyes, trying to ignore them.

Law

What? It's good.

Zoro blinks at that and takes a bite himself. He pauses for a second as his eye widens. Suddenly, he begins to chow down on the food as fast as he can.

Zoro

YO ROIGHT! ISH SHO GOOD!!!

Sanji

Slow down or else you'll choke–

The swordsman does. He repeatedly punches his chest to clear out the blockage. Sanji gives his back a couple of good whacks, causing the man to cough. Finally, Zoro takes a big gulp and downs the rest with the help of his drink.

When they finished their meals and each had at least a couple of bottles of booze to themselves, they sat around the fire to unwind, fully satisfied from their fill of food and tipsy from all the drinking. Zoro was first to spill his thoughts from his loosened tongue.

Zoro

You lied to me.

Sanji blows smoke from his lungs then tosses the spent cigarette into the fire. He looks at him curiously.

Sanji

What about? I personally thought that I've been good recently.

Zoro tilts his head slightly towards him.

Zoro

You have. But I thought you told me one time that you don't give a shit about good food?

That was one of the best meals I've ever had.

Law

I agree. Seems like there's a lot we don't know about you, Mr. Prince-ya.

Sanji's face goes red from the flattery. He hugs his knees to his chest and rests his chin on them. He sighs.

Sanji

When I was young, I used to cook for my sick mother. It was around the time when my father had just locked me away. I kept begging the guards to bring me recipe books and ingredients to cook with. Some of the kind ones obliged. I really wanted to get good at it. Maybe, I thought, it would help heal her somehow…. That's when I read about the All Blue. I uh…even wanted to find it. It was a childish dream.

The blonde takes a swill from his bottle. He smacks his lips then leans back with a hand on the ground behind him for support, looking up to the clear skies above them.

Sanji

When she died, I tried to keep it up to get some semblance of joy out of…something. But being in isolation for so long and having my siblings beat me down for trying, it just led to nothing good…I don't know…. Over time, I lost interest, along with my will to live. I think the old me died right there and then, in that old dark cell where my father kept me. Along with any dreams I had.

Eventually, because I stopped asking the guards to bring me anything, I was forgotten. Starved. I had to go without any food for months before someone would remember and bring me their scraps out of pity.

Sanji gestures at the pile of food that they had bundled up sitting near their packs.

Sanji

So yeah, I don't give a shit about good food. But I won't let any go to waste in my watch. There's so much you can do to even the smallest parts of an ingredient.

Zoro and Law look at him sadly. The doctor sighs, then stretches his legs on the ground outwards, trying to warm his feet in front of the fire.

Law

Well, I thought your food was delicious. What you learned from those recipe books must have stuck with you. Clearly you have a natural talent for it. Imagine what you can do now if you get back to it…if that's something you want to do that is.

Sanji doesn't look at him, but he gives his statement a long good thought.

Sanji

Thanks…Traffy.

Zoro gazes between the two of them. He stretches his arm out with an open palm, asking if he can share some of Sanji's drink. The blonde obliges and hands the bottle over. The swordsman gratefully takes and drinks from it. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before staring up at the sky, watching a couple of falling stars fly by.

Zoro

Kuina.

Sanji and Law look at him curiously.

Zoro

She was my goal. She's one of the reasons why I wanted to be the world's greatest swordsman.

We both made a promise to each other…but one day, she just suddenly passed. Some unfortunate accident with a flight of steps. It happens, I suppose. But now I carry our shared dream with me, and I intend to fulfill it, no matter what it takes.

Sanji

She sounds special to you. Is that why you're so keen on defeating Mihawk?

Zoro chuckles lightly.

Zoro

Yes, partly. But then…you happened.

Sanji

Oh…but–

Zoro

You're not a swordsman, I know. But defeating you became my goal. How can I top Mihawk when I can't even beat you?

The blonde looks down at the fire, thinking hard. He's unsure on what can be done to rectify this, or what to do with the information that Zoro had thought of him in this way for so many years without him knowing. He certainly doesn't want to get back to their old ways just so the man can fulfil his dreams.

Law

Have you tried to face Mihawk recently, Zoro-ya? Surely fighting the Pirate King of the North for a couple of decades would have given you a lot more experience than just your normal training regimen.

Zoro's brows shoot up at that realisation.

Zoro

No…. I haven't challenged him since I was nineteen.

…Why didn't I think of that?

Sanji lays down on the ground, resting his hands behind his head.

Sanji

I'm not saying that you're better than me in a fight…but you did kill me that one time. If not for my siblings, I would have been a goner for good.

The swordsman laughs out loud. He slaps his forehead with a hand as he leant backwards.

Zoro

That's true! I have beaten you!!!

Sanji

That was one round! We had many more battles afterwards. Don't let it go to your huge moss head!

Zoro

Uh-huh. How does it feel to have the silver medal?

Sanji

Shut up. Keep that up and I'll show you who's really on top here.

Zoro stops laughing but smirks at the man. Sanji returns his smile with his own.

Zoro

Don't make promises you can't keep.

Sanji

Guess I'll just have to show you….

The swordsman leans over and plants a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, lingering there for a moment as they both take in each other's breaths.

Law rolls his eyes and looks away. It seems like there's going to be more of this and the day is barely out. At the corner of his eye, he sees the bottle being offered to him by the swordsman. Reluctantly, he takes it.

The doctor looks down at the bottom of the bottle through its mouth. He purses his lips, hesitant to talk. After a while, he takes a swill and hugs his knees to his chest. He stares sorrowfully at the campfire in front of them as he speaks weakly.

Law

I think Cora-san is well and truly dead.

Sanji sits up and both him and the swordsman look at him in disbelief.

Law keeps his gaze averted, feeling ashamed. From his coat pockets, he pulls out the stack of letters that he'd collected throughout his journey prior to the two joining him.

Law

I don't know when and how…but he left all these for me to find. I'm guessing it's whenever he was away from home while he was still undercover. I think he left me these as a gift. Like he's trying to show me something.

I…I didn't want to admit it to anyone else. I haven't told the rest of my crew either. I was afraid no one would want to come along if they knew the truth.

Zoro looked shocked but Sanji wore an impassive face. He waits until he sees Law looks at him eye to eye before he speaks.

Sanji

How do you know he's truly dead? What if he's waiting for you right at the end?

Law

I saw his corpse, Mr. Prince-ya.

I wanted to believe that it was possible for him to be alive when I first found his letters…but I just kept remembering his dead body right before my eyes….

He looks down at the tattoos on his hand.

Law

My knowledge as a trained surgeon only solidified the fact that there was no way for him to survive all that.

Sanji sighs, but doesn't prod any further. Instead, he resides in returning his gaze to the stars above.

Sanji

I'm sorry. That must have been hard.

Zoro

I agree. That's rough, Traffy.

Law

Wait, you two aren't mad or upset? You're not just going to bail from all this?

Zoro

I agreed to come along because we're friends. And I intend to stick around. Plus I know that I won't hear the end of it from Luffy if I don't help. 

So…what's keeping you, Curls?

Sanji raises his brows at the two of them, feeling surprised at being questioned.

Sanji

If you had told me all this earlier, I may have left, that much is true.

Law

And…now?

The blonde smiles at the doctor then scoops out Zoro's hand and places a kiss on the palm of his hand. The swordsman's eye softens as they hold hands.

Sanji

Unfortunately for you, I’ve grown fond of you lot. Guess you're stuck with me for a while.

Suddenly, all of Zoro's doubts from earlier in the day washed away, almost like there was no trace of it. He'd never been more sure about what he wants for the rest of his life.

Sanji shifts on his side and props himself on his elbow, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.

Sanji

So, Marimo-kun? Your final verdict for this round?

Law blinks dumbfoundedly at that, then his eyes widen and mouth drops open at the slow realisation.

Law

THE FOOD AND ALL THIS WAS PART OF YOUR STUNT, YOU BASTARD?!

Zoro grins widely.

Zoro

Curls wins this round by a long shot. Sorry, Traffy.

Sanji laughs heartily.

—

The dim light from the campfire shone through Zoro and Sanji's shared tent. It was dark but they had just enough light for them to see their silhouettes.

The swordsman loomed over the other on their sheets, pounding hard into him at a slow pace.

Sanji arches his back and tries to move his own hips. He grips the sheets behind his head to get a better angle.

Sanji

M-Marimo…I need–ah–I need…more–

The swordsman indulges him and thrusts faster, pulling the man's hip upwards as he pushes down to penetrate deeper. He hears the man under him let out a stifled moan from the new angle.

Zoro

Fuck…you're so tight. You fit me so well….

His movements become erratic as he approaches his peak.

With desperate eyes and a flushed face, Sanji speaks through broken breaths.

Sanji

Ah–I want you to…f-fill me up…and m-make a mess of me...

Zoro groans at that. He pulls out suddenly to flip the man onto his stomach and pin him to the ground. He grabs his hips up to reinsert himself in one smooth motion.

Sanji

AHH! R–right there!! Fuck!

The swordsman starts a brutal unrelenting thrusts to give Sanji exactly what he asked for.

Repeatedly feeling Zoro hit his sweet spot and the friction of his own dick on the ground quickly takes Sanji over the edge. His eyes roll at the back of his head in pure bliss and, with a cry, he spills over their sheets. The swordsman follows almost immediately, filling him with a generous load.

They both take a moment to catch their breaths and recover from the high. With a grunt, Zoro pulls out and collapses next to his companion. He buries his face into the other's blonde hair to nuzzle the back of his neck with his nose, not seeming to get enough of his scent.

Sanji reaches out behind him to grab the swordsman's hand. He brings it over his shoulder to plant a kiss on his hand.

Sanji

For the record…I liked your swinging earlier today.

Zoro chuckles at that.

Zoro

Yeah? I'm glad you enjoyed the show.

Sanji

And then the way you suddenly kissed me after that other, poor attempt of a stunt–was so hot.

Being showered with compliments left the swordsman speechless. Instead of speaking, he wraps his arms around the blonde's waist to pull him in a tight embrace, smooching the back of his head in appreciation. He kicks himself for having any sort of doubts about the man earlier in the day.

After a short rest, Sanji turns his head to face Zoro. He gives a light peck on his nose, his fingers slide up to play with his earrings.

Sanji

Think you can handle round three?

He starts pecking him under his jaw, moving his way down. He gives him a small bite at the nook of his neck.

Zoro chuckles lightly, still trying to catch his breath as he gets pushed to lay on his back.

Zoro

In a moment. You drive me crazy, do you know that?

Sanji lets out a pleasurable moan in response and mounts him, giving him a barrage of kisses from his neck down to his chest, earning him a deep sigh in satisfaction.

Zoro

Fuck, you're gorgeous.

The swordsman cups his face and pulls him up gently to get a proper look at him, then slides his hands up and down the man's front, eyeing him up and down.

Mouth agape, Sanji grinds his dick over the other's already growing semi.

Zoro

F-fuck…

Zoro props himself on an elbow then sits up to wrap his arms around the blonde's waist. He buries his face on his neck, under the cover of his disheveled hair. He takes a long whiff of his scent as he slides his hands up and down his back.

Sanji

Sorry, I can't wait. I just can't get enough of you.

Sanji tilts his head to claim his mouth. His hands travel up to tangle his fingers in his hair. He pulls him closer to deepen the kiss.

Zoro groans out loud as his mouth gets penetrated and explored with the blonde's experienced tongue. He welcomes him, leaving his mouth agape as the other makes a mess out of him.

They stay like this for a while until Sanji pulls himself to look at the swordsman who tips slightly forward to follow the momentum, craving for more.

Sanji

What's on your mind?

Zoro

Hmm?

Zoro's eye flutters open, looking into the other’s wide diluted blue eyes.

Sanji

You've got something in your mind…. I can tell. Are you okay?

Zoro

I…y-yeah….

Sanji caresses his face with the back of his hand.

Sanji

You know, we don't have to go for another round if you don't feel like it. You know that you can say no, right?

Zoro

No, no, I do want to. It's just….

Zoro leans forwards until their foreheads touch together.

Zoro

I'm just thinking how much you mean to me. And how much I've fallen for you. I'm crazy for you, and I hope you know that. I don't want to ever let you go.

Sanji's eyebrows shoot up, then his expression softens, feeling his face go red. He gives him a warm smile.

Sanji

Zoro… you know that I lo–

Out of nowhere, blood bursts out of the blonde’s nose, spilling over Zoro’s chest. It continues to twinkle down his chin.

Sanji

Not again!

Sanji pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head back as he lifts himself off the swordsman to sit back on his heels.

Zoro

Hold on, let me get my old robe.

Sanji

Don’t be silly. It’ll stain. I’ll grab some rags from outside.

There's something that I've always wanted to tell you too…. Don't go anywhere.

Sanji gives him one final wink before grabbing his cloak and wraps himself in it.

Zoro smiles sweetly at that, feeling excited especially after getting a hint of what the blonde had wanted to say.

Zoro

A-alright. I’ll be here.

The blonde gives his hand a reassuring squeeze then steps out into the chill of the night.

He makes his way past their campfire towards their packs where he finds the old cloth that he had in mind. He cleans his face quickly with it before grabbing a fresh one for Zoro. He spins to return to their shared tent but comes to a halt when he feels a tingle at the back of his neck.

His observation haki kicked in but he wasn’t fast enough, only just managing to raise his arms just in time to stop sharp strings wrap around his neck. They coil around his wrists, binding them.

Sanji

ZO–!

A hand from behind covers his mouth and he disappears from the campsite in an instant, leaving a small trail of leaves twisting upwards.

Sanji didn’t return to their tent that night. No sounds can be heard but the crackling of fire.

----------

There are no visible scars on Sanji's body in the concept art as I wanted to focus on the overall shapes of the outfit designs. I haven't picked a variant to go with yet but maybe I'll have something ready by next chapter!

[azumetapraline]

Drawganronpa Days 18, 22, 27: Hope vs Despair, Chapter 6, DRV3

“We will not accept an ending without hope or despair. How dare Kiibo defy us? He is our surrogate! How troublesome. That’s why we voted to erase his personality. Now, we can have the ending we want… Hope or despair, which one will it be?”

“Kiibo is gone. Not a sliver of who he is left in these empty eyes; now, they are mere screens for the audience to project their thoughts and desires. The feeling brutally hits me; I miss Kiibo. I miss his kind smile, his over-the-top confidence, and even his sensitivity to robophobia. I’ll never get these moments back. I feel anger coursing through my veins. I won’t give the audience what they want. They’ve taken too much from us already. Thank you, Kiibo, for giving us this last chance to defeat them. I’ll never forget how much you truly cared about us.”

@shsl-islandmode-events

🔁 > 💟

[thewhizzyhead]

So like one common theme when discussing bullying is the tendency for bullies to project their insecurities on their victims right? like them taking their own shit out on the people they bully?

so i know that may not be exaaaactly the case with Max Jagerman in Nerdy Prudes Must Die like the dude even in the afterlife just really fuckin likes terrorising the shit out of people due to his god complex BUUUUT what I found very interesting was when in the Nerdy Prudes Must Die sequence, he was telling Richie to repeat after him: "Who will pray for me when my body's gone or until another Richie comes along?" And mind you, this song comes directly after another musical sequence about all the teens in that high school being so fucking happy that Max was gone. And like, well yea you can't blame the kids for being happy that Top Terrorizer #1 is gone and that they don't have to abide by his social strata anymore - but then again, having nobody pray or give a fuck about Max after him being mysteriously missing for 2 weeks is,,kinda fucked up for Max no matter the kind of person he is. So, to see someone he victimised get the attention and appreciation I would assume Max would've wanted from his team especially after being missing for so long - it really does seem to me that he was projecting onto Richie when he was about to kill him and making him feel how little he will matter to other people when he dies - like what he could've felt after literally everyone considered the high school "objectively better" now that Max was gone.

Which makes things a whole lot more interesting when Max snaps out of his WHO WILL PRAY FOR YOU solo when Richie belts out I'M NOT A LOSER - henceforth defying the idea of worthlessness Max was projecting onto Richie. So damn.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter three part 1 Miss Journalist follows the day-in-the-life of Bastard München for the midseason promos, unexpectedly bringing her closer to Hiori in ways she didn’t anticipate. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, angst, fluff, bastard munchen boys being goofy af, hiori oggling at reader's thighs (i said what i said) masterlist next chapter

In a mid-season matchup, Bastard München shocked league leaders PXG with a performance that defied all expectations. PXG’s powerhouse lineup included Julian Loki, Itoshi Rin, and Charles Chevalier who dominated the early game, pressing forward with relentless aggression. The fierce pace they set had everyone expecting that Bastard München would struggle.

Bastard München appeared oddly passive, seeming to react more than attack. Both teams were known for their aggressive style, yet here was the German club, letting PXG press forward.

However, as the match wore on, a shift began. Just when it seemed PXG was in full control, they launched a well-timed counterattack in the second half. They managed to score two quick goals, pulling the game into a nail-biting tie. 

At the heart of it, Hiori and Ness continue to orchestrate high-level plays too fast even for the French Prodigy himself. When PXG tried to pressure Isagi and Yukimiya up front, Hiori, along with Kiyora and Ness, wove a quick, dazzling exchange of passes that bypassed their opponents completely.

And in the final seconds, Hiori spotted a fleeting gap and threaded a perfect pass to Ness, who slipped past Tokimitsu and Chapa. Facing Renoir, PXG’s goalie, Ness feinted, then fired the ball into the net. The stadium erupted as Bastard München claimed an unexpected, hard-earned victory.

Loud, thunderous cheers filled the stadium, the energy rippling through the stands like electric current. Even you couldn’t resist joining in, swept up in the crowd’s infectious excitement. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, shouting at the top of your lungs, not minding how loud you were. 

This was a monumental win for Bastard München, a showcase of their hard work that proved they could stand toe-to-toe with the league’s front-runners despite having a rocky start. Ideas for a feature story whirled in your mind, framing this victory as a turning point for Bastard München who had seemed lost earlier this season.

Assigned to cover the post-match interviews, you knew this was your chance to draw out good insights and get juicy details for your next cover story. Despite hours of preparation, your nerves betrayed you, your fingers picking at your nails in a futile attempt to calm the jittery energy inside you. 

It had been weeks since you and Hiori followed each other on Winstagram. No messages exchanged — not that you had expected any — but the prospect of seeing him in person stirred a flicker of nervous excitement you couldn’t quite shake off. 

One thing’s for sure, whatever admiration you harbored, it had to stay buried. That’s one thing for sure. No hint of favoritism should slip through.

The team members filed into the interview room, still visibly exhilarated and glistening with sweat from their hard-fought victory. The quiet murmurs buzzing died down as everyone watched the players settle down. You adjusted your posture, hoping to blend seamlessly among the other reporters. Your hair and makeup were styled just enough to appear polished yet casual—a calculated effort to project professionalism.

As your eyes roamed the room, they unintentionally locked with Hiori’s. His expression shifted briefly, a flicker of surprise softening into a small smile. “Hey,” he mouthed silently, unmistakably directed to you. 

Your heart skipped a beat, the sudden rush of adrenaline making your heart hammer in your chest. “Hi,” you mouthed back, barely above a whisper.

Ah, shit. Never mind. Only a small moment of weakness. Reset, reset!

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if trying to dislodge the tangle of nerves and excitement clouding your thoughts. Refocusing, you watched the other reporters take their turns, their questions almost the same recycled ones — focused on the team’s redemption arc after a string of disappointing performances.

With a pen in hand, you quickly scratched out questions already asked, jotting down alternatives that might elicit more candid responses. If you could pull it off, this could be another story that could go viral if you’re lucky enough. Enough to satisfy your editor.

Still, you avoided looking in Hiori’s direction. The fear of locking eyes again was too much; instead, you busied yourself with your notes, flipping pages unnecessarily to appear absorbed.

When your turn finally came, you felt the weight of Hiori’s gaze, sharp and steady, as if daring you to look at him..

“Congratulations on the win, Coach Noa and team,” you began, your voice steadier than you expected. “Bastard München’s strategy tonight was a bold departure from what we've seen earlier this season. Was this a calculated risk, or do you believe this adaptability is what defines the team’s identity?”

Coach Noa nodded, his composed demeanor radiating authority. “Thank you. Logic has always been a cornerstone of our philosophy at Bastard München. And it was only logical for us to adapt. Tonight’s strategy was indeed calculated, but it wasn’t without its risks.”

“We’ve been refining our approach over the past few matches, focusing on how we can leverage each player’s unique strengths. The team executed the plan brilliantly, especially in high-pressure moments.”

He paused briefly, then added, “Speaking of adaptability, Ness exemplified that tonight. His ability to shift between supporting roles and taking decisive actions — like that last goal — speaks volumes about the trust and synergy within the team.”

You nodded, scribbling down his answer before firing another question. 

“Tonight’s performance highlighted a blend of individual brilliance and collective effort. How does the team balance showcasing individual skills while maintaining a cohesive game plan?”

Coach Noa leaned forward slightly, his tone thoughtful. “I think it all comes down to trust and understanding. We know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and that allows us to play in a way where everyone can shine without losing sight of the team’s overall goals.

“For example, Hiori’s ability to read the game helps him create opportunities for the rest of us. And players like Isagi or Kunigami can take those chances and turn them into game-changing moments. We’re all working toward the same goal, so it’s not just about standing out individually — it’s about contributing in a way that benefits the whole team. When we play with that mindset, it creates moments where individual brilliance and teamwork naturally come together.”

She scanned her list of questions again, frustration mounting as most had already been asked. Only one remained, a question directed at Hiori. The thought of asking him made her throat dry.

Quick, something, anything!

Thinking fast, she pivoted smoothly, directing the question to the star player instead. “The winning goal was amazing, Ness. Everyone’s so used to seeing you excel in a supportive role that it felt surprising — but no less impressive — to see you take the spotlight this time. Would you say the recent changes within the team have influenced this proactive shift in your playstyle?”

Ness’s expression stayed composed, but the tension in his jaw and a slight twitch in his eye showed a flicker of irritation. His voice, measured but edged with sharpness, made it clear he caught the subtext.

“I wouldn’t say it’s any one thing. It’s about adapting to what the team needs at the moment,” he said, the words clipped and deliberate. 

“Honestly, I’d commend having a reliable team — Mensah and Gagamaru have been incredible in keeping our defense solid. And, well, Hiori deserves a lot of credit too. He has this way of creating opportunities that make my job easier.”

It was deflection, plain and simple. His tone hinted at a pointed effort to steer the conversation away, and she knew he’d just handed her a firm yellow card for even brushing up against anything Kaiser-related.

Without waiting for a follow-up, Ness passed the mic to Hiori, his grip still tight on the handle.

Hiori tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto hers as he took the mic. His gaze didn’t waver as he spoke.

“I think Ness’s goal reflects how we’re evolvin' as a team. We’re startin’ to read the game better and step up when it really counts. Ness isn’t just a playmaker — he’s capable of scoring when it counts, and tonight proved that.

“We’re learnin' to trust each other more, adapt on the fly, and capitalize on everyone’s strengths. That’s been the focus lately: findin' ways to be unpredictable and versatile.”

“Than—” she began, only to be cut off.

“But whatcha think, Miss Y/N?” Hiori asked, his tone casual, though his eyes glimmered with teasing intent. “I’d love to hear yer thoughts on our new playstyle. Yer no stranger to covering the big moments, right?

“Watchin' it up close, d'ya think it’s just a fluke from an overrated team? Or does this performance prove we’re a team to watch this season?”

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to her as Hiori leaned forward, propping his chin on his hands. His unwavering focus carried a warmth that made her feel small in her chair, her voice caught in her throat.

Her heart pounded as she tried to collect herself. 

“I, uhm...” The murmurs of nearby reporters didn’t help. From the corner of her eye, she caught Coach Noa watching with amused curiosity. Even the team exchanged wide-eyed glances, as if surprised by Hiori’s uncharacteristic boldness.

Clearing her throat, she pushed through the tension. Letting the dead air linger would only make things worse.

“Speaking as a journalist — and as a fan of the sport — I believe this iteration of Bastard München is definitely a work in progress, but it’s one worth keeping an eye on.”

She hesitated, her voice softening but steady as she held Hiori’s gaze. “Some may not be fond of the new team dynamic, but rest assured, there’s always someone here, cheering for you. No matter what.”

The room stilled, her words hanging like an unspoken promise. For a moment, no one moved.

Hiori hummed, the corner of his mouth lifting into a satisfied smirk. Before anyone could react, Coach Noa stepped in to wrap up the interview.

Still dazed from the exchange, she gathered her things, her cheeks burning. Her mind buzzed with confusion and a flurry of emotions, but one thing was certain—Hiori’s teasing smirk was burned into her memory.

A few weeks later, you find yourself standing outside Bastard München’s training facility, your nerves jangling like loose wires. The midday sun casts a warm glow over the meticulously maintained grounds, and the scent of fresh cut grass fills the air.

You adjust the strap of your camera bag, feeling the weight of responsibility as two videographers from the features team set up behind you.

Your editor has assigned you to the JFA Midseason promotions. Normally, a rookie sidecourt reporter like you wouldn’t have such opportunities, but after your viral moment with Bastard München, your editor is fast-tracking your career with high-profile assignments.

Virality sure does wonders.

The team manager approaches, offering a firm handshake. Before you can respond, Coach Noa himself strides up, leading you toward the field. His authoritative presence is softened by a faint smirk, as if amused by your visible nervousness.

On the field, players are scattered across the pitch. Some jogging, others deeply engaged in drills. The rhythmic thuds of soccer balls being kicked reverberate through the air. You spot a few familiar faces among the group but immediately notice someone is missing.

Hiori isn’t here. Strange.

Coach Noa blows his whistle sharply, commanding attention. The players jog over, forming a loose semicircle around you. Noa gestures with a nod, and suddenly, all eyes are on you.

“Like I mentioned earlier, the JFA team will be shadowing us today,” he says, his tone brisk yet professional. He steps back, expecting you to take the floor.

Clearing your throat, you muster your most confident smile.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Y/N L/N from ABZ Media, here to represent JFA for their midseason promotions. I’ll be asking you a few casual questions as you go about your routines. So please don’t feel pressured to act a certain way—just, uh, be yourselves. The fans love to see your natural charisma.”

A faint tremor betrays your nerves as you bow slightly, clutching your notebook like a lifeline. The players exchange glances before a chorus of “We’ll be in your care�� echoes around the field, lightening the mood. Coach Noa steps forward again, efficiently dismissing the team to resume their drills.

The morning flies by as you make rounds, introducing players to the camera and coaxing them into lighthearted conversations. It’s surprisingly easy to chat with them, perhaps because your admiration for their talent is genuine. Or maybe it’s the way their easygoing banter puts you at ease.

In the gym, you find Raichi and Igarashi being as boisterous as ever. Raichi flexes dramatically for the camera, ripping off his sleeveless shirt in a comical display of bravado.

“Ladies, please!” he cries, striking a pose like a bodybuilder. “Cheer for us too!”

Sachs groans from the back of the gym, his exasperation cutting through the laughter. “Raichi, put your damn shirt back on. You’re embarrassing all of us!”

You quickly step in front of the camera, shielding Raichi’s topless antics as you stifle a laugh. “Okay, let’s move along before this turns into a modeling gig,” you say, guiding the cameraman toward the exit.

As you wander through the facility, a mouthwatering aroma draws you to the kitchen. Around the kitchen island, Kiyora, Yukimiya, and Ali are huddled together, watching match clips on a tablet while snacking on protein shakes and chips.

Behind them stands Gagamaru, tending to a sizzling pan. The rich smell of vegetables and pork simmering under the heat fills the room.

“Whatcha cooking, Gagamaru-san?” you ask, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice as you breathe in the delicious scent.

“Pork and vegetable pot stickers,” he replies without missing a beat, flipping one expertly with his chopsticks. “Ali-san’s been craving them, so I’m making a huge batch. Want to try? I made extras.”

Before you can respond, he gestures toward a plate of freshly made dumplings on the counter. Your eyes light up, and you move to grab one, but Gagamaru beats you to it. Picking one up with his chopsticks, he feeds it to you without hesitation.

Caught off guard but too hungry to resist, you take a bite. The dumpling is crispy on the outside, with a juicy, flavorful filling that melts in your mouth. 

“Oh wow, this is amazing!” you say, covering your mouth as you chew.

“He likes feeding people, so don’t feel weird about it,” Kiyora says, munching on his own dumpling.

“I only wish it was a woman feeding me,” Ali chimes in with a dramatic sigh, leaning against the counter. “But beggars can’t be choosers, L/N-san. Especially not me.”

You can’t help but laugh as he continues to rant, his over-the-top lamentations earning a good-natured eyeroll from Yukimiya. Meanwhile, Gagamaru simply shrugs, his focus already back on the next batch.

Back on the field, the drills continue under the midday sun. You spot Hiori jogging with a group that includes Isagi, Kurona, Ndiaye, and Schneider. You’re about to approach when you notice Hiori glancing in your direction.

Or was it through you?

Curious, you glance over your shoulder, wondering what’s caught his attention. But when you look back, he’s still focused—intently—somewhere in your direction.

“Dude, you’re staring,” Isagi teases, matching Hiori’s pace with a sly smirk.

“Am not,” Hiori mutters, his ears turning a shade pinker.

“You totally are,” Ndiaye chimes in from behind, grinning.

“Am not. Just, uh... admirin’ the view,”

“And by ‘view,’ you mean her...uh, thunder thighs?” Schneider laughs, clapping Hiori on the shoulder.

You were dressed in a loose, boxy white shirt that skimmed just below your hips, the fabric shifting with your movements. Paired with black leggings that hugged your figure and highlighted your toned yet thick thighs, it wasn’t really helping Hiori's case.

“Shut up,” Hiori grumbles, speeding up to escape their teasing, his ears now practically glowing red.

As the players finish their laps, you pick up a stray soccer ball and try your hand at dribbling. It quickly becomes apparent that your coordination is... not good. The ball skids off-course, rolling toward the group.

Before you can retrieve it, Hiori intercepts, trapping it with ease. “Mind being my drill partner for a bit?” he asks, his tone casual but his gaze intent.

“Me? Are you sure? I don’t want to, uh, mess up your practice.”

“You’ll be fine. Besides,” he adds with a small smile, “it’d be a shame to leave my biggest fan hangin'.”

Your face heats up at his words, and Isagi’s passing comment— “Don’t leave him hanging, Y/N-san!” —doesn’t help.

I am so not surviving this day.

Hiori walks you through basic dribbling drills, his movements precise and fluid. He places the ball at your feet and gestures for you to follow his lead.

“Stay close to the ball, but don’t smother it,” he says, watching as you fumble with your first attempt. “It’s all about control, so ya can keep it in yer range without overcommittin'.”

You try again, but the ball bounces awkwardly off your foot. “Kind of like... balancing offense and defense?” you suggest, struggling to find the right frame of reference.

“Exactly,” Hiori says, nodding. “Ya need to be ready to adjust at any moment. Small, controlled touches will keep ya agile and in control.”

You tilt your head, thinking it over. “It’s almost like... keeping your distance while tracking a monster’s movements in Monster Hunter, waiting for the right moment to act.”

Hiori’s eyes brighten. “Oh, ya play Monster Hunter?”

“Obsessively,” you reply with a grin.

“Then this’ll click,” he says, stepping back to demonstrate with the ball. “Dribblin' s'like positionin' yerself during a hunt. Keep the ball close, like keepin' yer stamina up while dodgin' and maneuverin'. Don’t let it get too far away, or you’ll lose control—kind of like trippin' or gettin' staggered.”

You watch, captivated by the way he moves with the ball, his footwork smooth and deliberate, like a hunter circling their target. When it’s your turn, you give it a try, mimicking his movements. It’s clumsy at first, but you feel yourself improving.

“Now trappin',” he says, passing the ball lightly toward you. “Think of it as bracin' for an attack or timin' a dodge. Ya stop the ball’s momentum and keep it close to yer strike zone. Use the inside of yer foot to absorb the impact.”

You miss the first attempt but manage to trap it on the second try. “Got it!” you exclaim, the small victory filling you with pride.

“Nice! Then chain it into yrr next move. So, like, followin' up with combos after staggerin' a monster,” he adds, his tone encouraging.

You laugh, finding comfort in the familiar gaming metaphor. “I guess this really is like a co-op training mission.”

As you practice, the conversation naturally drifts to your shared love of Monster Hunter. Hiori recounts his favorite hunts, while you share stories of late-night battles against Elder Dragons and the frantic scramble for resources mid-fight. The drills become less intimidating, more like swapping strategies with a fellow gamer during a long session.

At one point, Hiori surprises you with a compliment. “The article ya wrote? It was good. Particularly the part where ya basically say 'it ain’t over till it’s over'” he says, stopping mid-drill to look at you.

“Really?” you ask, startled by his sincerity.

“Yeah. Got me hyped for the next game” he admits, nudging the ball back toward you.

“And the video? I hope it wasn’t too...cringe.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Nah. It was cute,” he says, his tone genuine. “Kinda cool knowin' someone’s a fan.”

“I’m not the only one, right? Surely you have a ton of fans?”

“Some, I guess,” he shrugs, a teasing glint in his eye. “But none of them are cute journalists.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you sputter, “Stop teasing me, Hiori-san!”

“Am not,” he replies smoothly, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction.

By the time the drills wrap up, you find yourself more at ease, caught up in the camaraderie of the team and Hiori’s unexpected warmth. His ability to make soccer feel like second nature and connect it to something you love made it fun. Maybe this assignment might be more enjoyable than you thought.

The dribbling and passing drills end after an hour. You decide to take a break with the other cameraman shadowing you. It’s midday, and despite observing most of the team, Ness is still nowhere to be found.

As lunch rolls around, you finally catch a glimpse of him in a hallway, his unmistakable gait giving him away. Before you can call out, his eyes meet yours, and he immediately turns on his heel.

He’s avoiding me?!

You don’t think; you just act. Gesturing for the cameraman to stay put, you dash after the elusive midfielder. Ness quickens his pace, heading toward what looks like a conference room, but you manage to catch him by the hem of his training jersey.

“Ness-san,” you pant, out of breath, gripping the fabric tightly. “Wait… Just… give me a minute…”

He sighs sharply, clearly displeased, but doesn’t shake you off. “Fine. Just… let go already,” he mutters, ushering you inside the empty room.

You follow, shutting the door behind you before collapsing into a nearby chair, wiping sweat from your forehead. Ness, seated on the couch, watches you with an unreadable expression.

“I know why you’re here,” he says flatly.

“You do?” You’re still catching your breath.

“They gave me a heads-up.” He leans back, arms crossed. “Not that it matters. I wasn’t planning to talk.”

You blink, startled. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to give you or anyone else a chance to villainize Kaiser. Even after what happened.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. The idea that these players, often portrayed as larger-than-life, are just people navigating their own struggles makes your stomach churn with guilt.

“You, uh, don’t have to say anything,” you manage, voice softer now. “I’m sorry if I came off like a pushy paparazzi. I didn’t mean to.”

Slowly, you remove your lapel mic, setting it deliberately on your lap. “But I can lend an ear if you need someone to talk to. Or…”

You hesitate. “Or I can leave. Just say the word. I’ll sit here for a few minutes, so they at least think I tried my best to convince you.”

You give him a sheepish smile, hoping it doesn’t look as awkward as it feels. Ness stares at you for a beat, then shrugs, his attention shifting to his phone. The silence is heavy, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning. You fidget in your seat, picking nervously at the skin around your nails, not daring to look at him directly.

Finally, he speaks.

“It wasn’t the first time he told me to fuck off,” Ness says quietly, his voice carrying a bitter edge. 

“Back in the Neo Egoist League, he told me to stop following him. It.. it hurt, you know. To suddenly feel unwanted. Useless.”

You straighten in your chair, angling your body toward him, giving him your full attention.

“But he stayed on the team,” Ness continues, his fingers tracing absent patterns on his phone screen.

“So, I told myself it was fine. I could deal with it. That is until a few months ago, when Re Al gave him that ultimatum offer. He told me we needed to talk, and… for the first time, he let me down gently. He said it was time for me to find my own path. I knew he meant it kindly, but it felt like my world collapsed.”

Ness’s voice wavers, and he exhales sharply, as if trying to compose himself.

“I supported him because it gave me purpose. Even if people thought our relationship was weird, it didn’t matter. Being in his orbit was everything to me. I knew how he treated me, but it didn’t matter. He was my magic.”

His voice cracks on the word "magic," and your chest tightens painfully.

“I thought if he stayed, things could change. That I could fix it somehow. But then he left, and…” Ness trails off, his words swallowed by a wave of despair. When he speaks again, his voice is raw, each word dripping with agony.

“I just don’t want the magic to end. Not like this.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence, and you realize hot tears are streaming down your face. You quickly cover your mouth, trying to hold back a sob, but Ness notices.

“You’re, uh… crying,” he says awkwardly, his brows knitting together.

“Sorry,” you choke out, your voice trembling. “It’s just… I know how that feels.” You pause, wiping at your eyes. “Is it okay if I… hug you?”

He looks surprised but gives a small smile. “Yeah, I think we both need it.”

You lean forward, throwing your arms around him in an embrace that feels as clumsy as it is heartfelt. Ness hesitates before hugging you back, and for a brief moment, you feel his trembling hands.

The pain he carries feels too familiar, too close to home. You want, more than anything, to take it from him, to convince him he’s enough. Because the "you" who feels the same would want someone to take the pain away too.

“Sometimes, you won’t be enough for others,” you whisper. “And it has nothing to do with you.”

Ness doesn’t reply right away, but you feel him exhale against your shoulder, the tension in his frame easing ever so slightly.

“Thanks, L/N-san,” he says softly, pulling back after a moment. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

He squeezes your shoulder briefly before leaving the room, his movements steady despite the weight you know he’s carrying. You don’t follow him, knowing better than to intrude further.

Instead, you sit there, alone with the ache in your chest, wishing you could have done more.

You try to compose yourself as memories flood your mind.

What good are you if you can’t be useful to us?

And this is how you repay me?

The words echo relentlessly, leaving a knot in your chest. Your spiraling thoughts are abruptly cut off when you softly bump into someone while stepping out of the room.

“Y/N-san?”

Startled, you quickly wipe at your face and look up to find Hiori standing in front of you, his expression shifting from surprise to quiet concern.

“H-Hiori-san,” you stammer, trying to sound normal, but your voice cracks, betraying the turmoil inside.

“You okay?” he asks gently, his tone careful, his eyes searching yours.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply too quickly, your voice tight. You try to avoid his gaze, your fingers twisting the hem of your sleeve as if the fabric could anchor you. “I’m just… Lot of thoughts in my mind. That’s all.”

Hiori doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push either. “Ya sure?” he asks again, softer this time.

You nod, blinking rapidly to shake the lingering haze of emotion. “Yes. Really. Thank you for your hard work today,” you mumble, your words coming out in a rush as if to change the subject.

“Ah... you too,” he says, though his tone is distracted. His gaze lingers on you, like he’s trying to figure out what’s left unsaid.

For a moment, the air between you feels heavy. You shift awkwardly, breaking the silence.

“So, um… I should probably go,” you say, your voice wavering slightly as you gesture vaguely down the hallway.

“Right, yeah. Of course,” he says, his words tumbling over yours as he steps back. “I, uh… should get back too.”

The exchange feels clumsy, both of you retreating into the safety of polite distance.  You turn to leave, feeling like an awkward mess. 

Hiori watches you walk away, his brow furrowed, his thoughts racing. That expression you wore just moments ago — a fragile mix of pain and vulnerability — it reminds him of himself.

He knows that look. He’s seen it in the mirror before, felt that same weight pressing down on his chest. The kind of loneliness that makes you feel invisible, even when someone’s right there in front of you.

He wants to say something, to reach out, to let you know you’re not alone. But the words get stuck in his throat, and instead, he stays rooted in place.

It’s moments like these that unsettle him the most. He feels like he’s seen a glimpse of something in you that mirrors himself — raw, unguarded, and all too familiar.

And for a fleeting moment, he wonders if the two of you might share more than he ever realized.

amari's notes: uwaaaah! i know it's so long and i blame myself for being an indecisive lil shit. kinda changed the story trajectory but here we are folks! i hope you guys enjoy and lemme know what you think so far?

[the-sacred-now]

I've created a one-page PDF full of QR codes with a couple tl;dr:s, which can be cut into sections for focus at need.

This one's optimized for printing:

This one's optimized for digital sharing:

Here are the links across the top.

A brief overview of Project 2025: http://risenow.us/everything-you-need-to-know-about-project-2025/

More details on Project 2025: https://www.mediamatters.org/heritage-foundation/guide-project-2025-extreme-right-wing-agenda-next-republican-administration

Ending in a tl;dr:

Project 2025 is an extremist plan for next year that defies values across political lines, threatening jobs and personal freedoms, and destabilizing the American working class.

Here are the links across the middle.

Register to vote or check your registration: https://vote.gov/

Donate towards electing Kamala Harris and beating Project 2025: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/web-bfp-july-kamala-2024?refcode=lightbox_launch&opt_id=oeu1722118519355r0.08707782512318918

Find volunteer opportunities that work for your needs: KamalaHarris.com/Organize

Here are the links across the bottom.

Fact vs. Myth about Kamala Harris*: KamalaHarrisFacts.com

Kamala Harris policies and stances: https://www.axios.com/2024/07/22/kamala-harris-policy-stances

Ending in a tl;dr:

Contrary to unsubstantiated claims, Kamala Harris is a capable leader with a long record of pushing for compassionate practicality, including bail reform and tax credits for renters.

*I built this site because all the good compilations I was looking for were social media posts. Site edits will be ongoing but it is in a functional state.

These have been compiled for convenience, please use them wherever and however is most useful!

[glitter-stained]

Idea: for his first time coming back to Crime Alley during his revenge plot, before establishing himself as a crime lord, Jason saves a kid. The kid asks him his name then informs him that it's ridiculous, and that a fairy tale name isn't scary at all so he should change it if he wants to scare the bad guys and also that his helmet isn't even a hood so it's stupid. Jason goes home in a daze, has a crisis, and brainstorms ideas.

Here is the list he comes up with, based on the fact he's a dramatic nerd, and ranked from my personal least favourite to top favourite.

The Creature : I feel like Jason would be the type of person to scream at people who call the Creature Frankenstein, but also argues that the real monster in the story is indeed Frankenstein; that name is thus a book accurate reference, while simultaneously highlighting and rubbing in Bruce's face that he created the villain by making himself his father and then abandoning him. My issue with this is that I associate the concept of cryptid vigilant creature with Cass so much giving the name to Jason feels wrong.

Rhapsody : Rhapsody of a Windy Night (by TS Eliot ofc) is THE poem I think of when I think about Jason in relation to Crime Alley, so this is a cool looking name cementing his identity as a crime lord/ vigilante as linked to this place. Unfortunately, most people would think either music themed villain or Queen reference and nobody would get the reference which would piss Jason off.

The Dead Poet: That idea is not mine, I unfortunately lost the post that suggested it so feel free to link it if you do. I absolutely love it, 100% nerd and batman villain, only reason it's low is I like the others more.

Antigonish: That's the title of a creepy poem/nursery rhyme by Mearns about a ghost haunting a house (yesterday upon the stairs/i saw a man who wasn't there...) very leaning in the creepy, undead, haunting the narrative vibe, and I think he'd fuck with the aesthetic so much, I think he'd wage psychological warfare against Batman with references to Jason's death.

Prometheus: A classic, the curse of non consensual immortality while also being a protector and enlightener of the people, defying the authority and saying I will break your rule in the name of what I think matters more. I think he'd like the way it lets him simultaneously say fuck you to Bruce and keep in mind who he's supposed to protect. Yes, I know Prometheus is a pre existing villain and I hate him, let's just ignore that.

Chrysothemis: this one is such a smartass reference he's such a little shit I think he'd love it. A classic myth from the trojan war is Agamemnon sacrificing his daughter Iphigenia to Artemis in order to be able to go on his mission (wage war against Troy), and when he comes back from Troy, Clytemnestra kills him in revenge, and then the family hunts eachother for sports (see the Oresteia). In Sophocles's Electra, Chrysothemis is the name of the daughter of Clytemnestra who, unlike Electra, doesn't condemn/ protest against their mother for killing Agamemnon to avenge Iphigenia. I think it's particularly funny because Chrysothemis literally means "golden law". Maybe not the most badass sounding but god would it be so funny.

Lightbearer : (the title of Lucifer). Again, maybe not the most badass but Jason is a nerd and he'd fuck with it. "But isn't Jason the christic equivalent of the Bruce/Jason/Joker trinity?" I hear you ask and the answer is yes, but on a meta level, this is what the reader is allowed to see. Jason? He's read Paradise Lost and agrees Satan/Lucifer was right, projected Bruce on God, and made it his whole personality. I think Lightbearer!Jason would quote Paradise Lost/make references to it all the time during their arguments, denouncing Batman's abandonment of Crime Alley and say "I'd rather rule in hell than serve in heaven", tell him that he has no obligation to play by his rules because "just because you were here first doesn't make you the rightful ruler of this city". This also goes well with my hcs about Crime Alley being a little fucked up and loving their local crime lord/vigilant, with graffitis and nicknames treating him like the Alley's Angel/guardian angel but in a fucked up, fallen angel way, like that's our patron saint and he's made of the same shit that we are, he's not holier-than-though cause he's not holy but he's ours.

Anyway feel free to share which ones you prefer and add ideas!!!

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

“its was always so odd to me how ppl made sirius into small petit fem prince and remus into big strong boy”

NO Sirius Black does what he wants, dresses how he wants, wears his hair however he likes. He also can’t help that he’s 5’8 okay? Defying the stereotype doesn’t make him feminine or makes him abide by a ‘hetero’ agenda.

Remus Lupin is tall and lanky and literally a werewolf??? So I think it’s okay for people to characterise him as a little muscular okay? He’s needy and nerdy and fumbly and angry TO ME.

Also they aren’t real?? They are fictional characters who we’ve adapted into a diverse narrative. They don’t belong to me or you. And honestly some of us will project things onto characters because we want some comfort or to work through something ourselves.

So if I decide to make Sirius a booty skirt wearing, eyeliner, glitter, crop top bitch that’s up to me. If I want Remus to be 6’8 and a jock and a whore - that’s up to me! If, for example, this is how someone chooses to explore a sexuality in a way that they haven’t personally or previously? Let them!!!

I’m not saying we should perpetuate stereotypes or push an agenda - but if it isn’t hurting anyone and it’s not content that you’d like to engage with, then please just look away.

[kumar-pradeep]

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[val3ntina-she]

How did you meet them

Based on: Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo

Leonardo

• You just wanted to spend the night in silence and you didn't think that a storm and a downpour would start to anger you. You could say that you hated this weather over the last dozen or so days

• The weather was getting on your nerves and you couldn't work on any project in peace and that was what pissed you off the most. But one day you met him at the top of the roof

• He was fighting something or someone and you couldn't take your eyes off him. However, your eyes met and you, being a terrified person, hid from him. However, Leonardo was also terrified, realizing that he had been caught and he was because of you

• Over time, you made friends because he seemed like a calmer person with whom you could talk normally rather than your own parents, who often argue about who knows what

Raphael

• Once, Raphael had an argument with his older brother and ran out of the lair to cool down. He cursed under his breath, kicking at random things that were on the roof [ if they were even there ]. However, he didn't think that he would meet the same person who also had such problems and that person was you

• At first he was cursing himself that he had been caught and was probably dead and you would start calling him monsters or weirdos. But he didn't think you'd be mad at him for hitting you in the head with something

• Over time, you became friends because you had the same interests and you fit together like two peas in a pod [ as friends ]

Donatello

• This shy boy accidentally bumped into you while you were working on a device in your room

• He fell straight onto your balcony and you were shocked to hear a crash outside, so you looked in that direction. Just then, Donatello got over his shock as he stood up, but then your eyes met. However, the gum you were chewing in your mouth fell straight onto the floor

• Donatello was simply terrified of being discovered and began to fear the worst. What he didn't think was that you didn't scream at all, you just had a shocked expression on your face and didn't think anything of it

• You just gave him a smile, so he did the same, because what was he supposed to do in this situation, right? You can't blame him for that

• Over the course of a few days of conversation, you became friends with each other. For all you knew, you had the same interests as him

Michelangelo

• This boy loved parties and pizza and you were just as much of a party animal as he was

• Defying his older brothers' orders, he jumped into a parade in New York. That's when his eyes and yours met. You loved his costume, but then you realized it wasn't a costume

• However you liked him very much and wanted to meet him again. You tried every way to see him again. But you were too stupid and didn't know about such things

• After a few days, you saw him again and you wanted to immediately become friends with him, even though you had only seen him for a few minutes at first. At first he was shocked by your enthusiasm, but he loved what you had inside you and over time you and him became friends. Yet sometimes you act like idiots, talking about parties, pizza and skateboards

[theamityelf]

I’ve been thinking of talent swap AUs and I was wondering if there were any talents you would like to see Makoto have? And like if that varies from ship to ship? Like way back you have that post of different Makoto soulmate AUs with different ships, so that but with talent swaps.

On the top of my head, an Ultimate Neuroscientist Makoto would be interested with Hineagi or Kamuegi. Like Makoto is a minute replacement on the Kamukura project and either encounters pre-op Hajime (and maybe tries to save Hajime’s memories along with giving him talents I don’t know) OR meets Kamukura (and it’s the classic treats Izuru as a human rather than an experiment tropes but Makoto is a scientist here)

Oooh, first of all, there's one relevant post I made a little bit ago where I said that Ultimate Rule-Breaker would be a cool fit for him, since we know he will defy the establishment to protect other people.

But your specific idea of matching it to specific ships like in my soulmate AU's post is really cool, so let's give it a try, lol! I don't want to threaten his just-a-guy-ness, but it could be cool to try to use the alternate ultimate to lean into certain particular dynamics of each ship. It really seems to come down to "Is it more fun to do opposites or to coordinate?"

Kamuegi:

Here, I really want to retain the sense of "He isn't super skilled; he's just a really decent guy." A part of me wants to go "Ultimate Therapist" or somewhere in that ballpark, specifically because it justifies Hope's Peak's scientists having arranged for them to be around each other, but I think it's a little important to me that he's not a therapist. It feels like it takes away from his Power of Friendship thing if he's a therapist. Not knocking therapy! It's just maybe not best for the ship. I think the best thing he can offer Izuru is an appreciation for the world around him, so something like "Ultimate Bird-Watcher", like in that other post, or "Ultimate Stargazer," or just something in the ballpark of "person whose skill comes from enjoying things and dedicating himself to that enjoyment". Canon Makoto seems to more have that with people, but for this AU, I think the highly social aspect of Makoto's personality can receive less emphasis. I think for now I'm going to go with "Ultimate Storm-Chaser", because that combines a few cool things. It's an enjoyment of the natural world, it's a kind of wild side that we don't usually get to see a lot from Makoto, it characterizes the whole Naegi family in a pretty fun way (like, I'm just picturing them in a station wagon or van, following storms since Makoto and Komaru were little kids), and it's a thing where Makoto's clumsiness and Izuru's protection can put them in cool situations. And Makoto can still get some heroics in, saving people who are in the path of natural disasters. (I'm picturing the standard screaming child in a disaster movie.)

Naegami:

Oh boy, where to start for this one? I'm not going to act like Ultimate Secretary didn't cross my mind first, but I think the appeal of AU's where he actually becomes Byakuya's secretary isn't usually the idea that he'll be superhumanly good at it. Next, the idea of them being placed at odds by their titles comes to mind. Like, maybe the Togami Corporation is up to some harmful practices and Makoto is the Ultimate Environmentalist, or the Ultimate Activist, and he tries to appeal to Byakuya's better nature, and also it's really funny to think "The Ultimate Environmentalist saves the planet by accidentally romancing the most influential CEO." Boy, I started this point planning to say "but instead", but now I've kind of talked myself into this one. I think I like this dynamic?? Makoto just trying to reason with him, Byakuya reading him as some wide-eyed idealist at first, but Makoto is able to parry everything he says, and they have a Vibe, and then they're dating, and Byakuya really likes him, but if he actually makes the changes that Makoto is passionate about, he's worried Makoto will leave him because a part of him has thought that Makoto was just using him the whole time.

(Also, hey, it's me from after I finished the rest of this post. Yeah, the answer I give for Naezono also applies here.)

Naegiri:

I am pretty charmed by the idea of him being something that stands at odds with Ultimate Detective, like Ultimate Accomplice (and there are a lot of ways he could be someone who deliberately or accidentally keeps people from getting in trouble while she's trying to find out the truth no matter what), but it seems more aligned with the spirit of the ship if he gets something that pairs well with detective, like "Ultimate Lip-Reader". That one would probably involve a lot of him tagging along on the field with her, offering his thoughts and insights and telling her what people are saying in silent security footage. Alternatively, any Ultimate where she's doing the field work as a detective and he's doing the office and/or people-facing side is cool, so "Ultimate Secretary" would actually be pretty great for this ship. (That one fic, Smile at the Mouth of Despair, had him doing file work and stuff, and I kind of love that; it's what I'm visualizing for this point. I like him sorting files and taking calls.)

Komaegi:

Is "Ultimate Friend" cheating? Yeah, that's cheating. I kind of like Ultimate Survivalist, maybe, where people expect him to be really strong and cool, but he's just a somewhat clumsy little guy who just happens to regularly dodge heavy projectiles and happen to have the exact thing he needs in his backpack. (This could include him knowing aikido, since we all love Aikido Makoto, lol.) The way this would intersect with Nagito is, in any given plane crash or house fire or explosion, Makoto theoretically should be safe and able to help Nagito out. I say theoretically because there is a part of me that thinks Nagito's luck would have to kill the Ultimate Survivalist. I don't always subscribe to the theory that his luck does the least likely thing (whether it's good or bad), but I do think that an Ultimate Survivalist, even if the talent works exactly like Makoto's normal luck, would be tempting fate just by being called that.

Honestly, while I said that the highly social aspect of Makoto's character didn't need to be emphasized for Izuru, I feel it definitely does for Nagito, hence the "Ultimate Friend" idea. But I'm thinking maybe a service role that Makoto can have a decidedly healthy approach to, like Ultimate Barista? Is there a word for someone who picks up litter? Because I love the idea of Makoto's Ultimate being focused on cleaning up after people, but him having an overall more generous and friendly outlook on them than Nagito. Maybe Makoto is the Ultimate Custodian, and a lot of people expect him to resent people who drop trash, but he's more, "I'm glad I can help out. Sometimes people are busy or make mistakes, and I'm glad I can keep our shared spaces clean. I meet a lot of interesting people! For example..."

A talent that positions him to know when something's off with Nagito even if he doesn't say anything, like "Ultimate Body Language Expert", would theoretically be cool, because it would allow for Makoto to comfort him when he really needs it, but that also feels a little bit like cheating, lol.

(Him being the Lucky Student, Ultimate Hope, or talentless honestly work best for Nagito, in my opinion, but these are still fun dynamics to explore.)

Naenami:

Oooh, maybe Ultimate Game-Breaker? This is kind of a fusion of bad luck and gamer, where he will reliably find the bug in any game always. Maybe too similar. I think what I'm picturing for them right now is Makoto having a YouTube channel or Twitch channel where he talks about stuff he likes. Like, maybe a CinemaWins kind of thing, but unscripted, where he's actually rambling to the camera. That way, we get a dynamic where Chiaki makes Let's Plays and Makoto makes just general positive vlog content. They try out a new game together, and Makoto is raving about how cool it is and Chiaki's like, "It's fun. The crafting mechanic is a little buggy, and they didn't really integrate it into any storyline. Yeah, it's a pretty good new release." I'm going to say he mostly vlogs, so I can call him Ultimate Positivity Vlogger instead of having to find a way word all of that in one Ultimate title, lol.

Naezono:

Ultimate Stage Hand or Light Technician could be fun. Maybe Ultimate Celebrity Interviewer, and they have one conversation that is just so incredible that she never stops thinking about it. He has a way of really making the people he interviews feel seen and cared about, and that's just so unusual in the entertainment industry that Sayaka falls head over heels. (He doesn't know he has this effect.)

Naekusaba:

Ooh, I'm feeling something in the ballpark of Ultimate Bookkeeper, or just any collection-type Ultimate. Something unassuming in the eyes of pretty much everyone. Here's why: Making him a passionate collector of [something] means we can have Mukuro often shyly gifting him one of [that thing] that she found while she was out doing soldier stuff. He gets to nervously ask, "You didn't kill someone for that, did you?" and she gets to lie, "No, I bought it," or "No, I found it." Also, it means maybe one day Mukuro knocks on his door bleeding, injured, with nowhere else to go, being followed by enemies, and Makoto hides her in his home which is full of collected things and enemy soldiers show up at his house like "Have you seen [description of Mukuro]?" and he's like, "No, I'm here alone. No one's been here." And the enemy soldiers barge in anyway to search the place, but in all his collected things, they can't find Mukuro, so they leave and he brings her some food and water and does his best to bandage her up (or she just stitches up her own wound), and she notices that he has a little bruise or scratch from when the enemy soldiers pushed him aside to search the place, and she's so sorry she brought danger to his door.

Naejunko:

I think Ultimate Hope is already perfect for that one. Alternatively, though, something like "Ultimate World Ender" or some similar thing positioning him as potentially usable to her. It would follow the same rules as "Ultimate Rule-Breaker", though, where the whole point is that he prioritizes others' wellbeing over any establishment, so it would be a situation where Junko tries to make use of his talent for destroying organizations from within (because that's the essence of his talent, here; he's really good at dismantling organizations), but it doesn't work because he's not just out there destroying things; his priority is to help people, and he was titled the way he was because those running the establishments that do harm were seeing him from their own perspectives. Junko can't get the Ultimate World Ender (or whatever else his title is) to end the world, and he's actually a pretty big inconvenience for her.

Or "Ultimate Barista" again. She's talking about her despair plans with Mukuro in some cafe, and Makoto brings them their coffee or tea, like, "Are you guys writing a book?" and casually weighs in on "plot elements" that interest or confuse him, accidentally helping Junko make her plan better. She keeps inviting him to their table for more artistic feedback, and he's having a great time talking with them. They become regulars, and he memorizes Mukuro's order and, even though Junko always orders something different, he seems to somehow intuit the kinds of flavors she enjoys and makes great recommendations. She's in love.

[exhaled-spirals]

« Known globally for highly stylized genre films depicting the gritty underbelly of society with brutal violence and crimes, South Korean cinema was long characterized by what one film critic famously called “dark blue filter thrillers” mostly made by and starring men. If women appeared at all, it was often as one-dimensional clichés, serving as plot devices like a femme fatale, a murder or rape victim, an innocent lover or wife, or a self-sacrificing mother.

To challenge this norm and support women filmmakers, some women started to not only watch female-driven films but also buy more tickets than they could even use for such movies in a campaign called “spirit-sending”— meaning they would be at the theaters in spirit. The campaign turned a surefire box-office disaster to an award-winning hit, saving the career of a rare female director.

“It was truly a miracle,” Lee Ji-Won said of Miss Baek, her 2018 debut film about a female former convict trying to save a little girl from abusive parents. The drama, which portrays the friendship between two abuse survivors, was such a rarity in an industry dominated by what Lee called “films with cops, gangsters, naked women, or rom-coms” that it was snubbed by almost all investors and distributors. One investor promised to fund it only if Lee changed the lead character to a man. Another bet that “the disaster-in-waiting” would perish in cinemas in a week—a warning that almost materialized, as the film’s opening-day sales were so poor that it was projected to sell less than a quarter of the tickets required just to break even.

“Everybody, myself included, was so sure that the movie would crash and burn, and my career was over—until weird things started to happen on social media,” Lee told me.

Impressed by the rare women-led film with complex female characters, made by an even rarer woman director, many women watched it again and again, buying tickets even when they couldn’t attend. Ticket sales rebounded sharply as #SendingSpirit became a viral hashtag that continued for months until the film broke even. Miss Baek eventually won rave reviews and swept major awards, and the same investors who’d once snubbed Lee began to court her, begging to see her scripts.

“The gesture of solidarity by all these women was just overwhelming,” Lee said, wiping away tears. “They, like me, were so thirsty for movies portraying women as complex, multidimensional human beings.” In 2021, she finished shooting her second movie, featuring some of the country’s biggest stars.

The “spirit-sending” campaign lived on to drive the success of other women-led movies, like the film adaptation of Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982, allowing such films to defy the boycott campaigns that often targeted “feminism-stained movies.” While the film was hit by thousands of 0 percent ratings even before its official release (causing a vast gender disparity in its ratings on the top web portal—2.99 among men and 9.45 among women), Kim Ji-Young eventually became a hit watched by millions at home. Female-driven movies have grown in numbers and ticket sales since, led by a new generation of filmmakers like Lee and some male filmmakers as well. »

— Hawon Jung, Flowers of Fire: The Inside Story of South Korea's Feminist Movement

[sirhamburrger]

chapter 3: deskmates empty [rayne ames x f!reader] || wc: 758 || prev. chapter || next chapter

“he told me to set a few reasonable goals for this semester and have a detailed report on his desk by friday,” she groans to max. “and i am not paying for express mail services.”

“looks like mr sandman's already got it out for you, huh.” max smiles sympathetically, though there's a glimmer of mirth in his eyes. it quickly turns into a full-blown smile as he waves to someone behind her.

“hey, rayne!”

she freezes as rayne brushes past her to set his stuff down at the vacant seat right by max's. intense golden eyes lock with her own.

“morning,” he says simply.

“good morning,” she mutters, watching a couple of giggling girls snap up the seats beside and in front of him. they retreat into a corner of the classroom once noticed, their laughter giving her a serious migraine.

“say, why d’you think orter mádl has such a huge stick up his ass?” max snickers, but the question is a serious one. she waits to hear rayne's response as he settles into his chair, seemingly deep in thought.

but their conversation is cut short by the loud voice of their magic history professor, and max groans upon seeing who it is. “lucci? again? how could we be so unlucky?” and they are. claude lucci is the most self-absorbed professor at easton, and chances are they won’t learn much this year.

“you're good at magic history, max. there's no need to worry.” rayne's tone is calm and sincere enough, but it does nothing to stop his friend's bemoaning.

“what if he makes me tutor wirth mádl again?”

“what if he makes you tutor wirth mádl again?” she says at the exact same time, and they share a brief glance before bursting into peals of laughter.

“students!” lucci hollers. “here's your classroom seating arrangement for this semester. find your seats and settle down.” he raps his wand on the blackboard, and lines of chalk materialise on its surface.

max makes a face of disgust. “what are we, seven years old?” but professor lucci is not one to be defied, and all the students grumble as they move to their new places. abyss razor is seated in front of her - at least it's not abel walker, she thinks - and max sits right beside him.

she squints her eyes to look again at lucci's ridiculously small handwriting on the board. her deskmate is… damn, she can't seem to read a single word on that blackboard…

an all-too-familiar figure slides into the seat beside her, his pile of books stacked up infuriatingly neatly. he bristles slightly when he sees her affronted expression. 

oh, no.

and then she hears the same stupid giggling coming from the same stupid fangirls. 

honestly? what she wouldn't give to sit by wirth mádl in the corner instead.

“if you have any violent objections, please see me after class to make alternative arrangements-” yeah, that works for her- “i hope you'll learn to be flexible and enjoy working with new people-” rayne ames is nowhere near new to her, and no, she won't enjoy this- “you'll be doing your midterm projects with your partners, so start getting to kn-”

she buries her head in her hands. okay, sure, rayne's good at history. and he may or may not have been top in history finals rankings in freshman year. and in sophomore year. but still, if lucci expects them to work together-

“quit looking like having to work with me is the worst tragedy you've ever faced.” rayne's deadpan voice cuts through the clutter in her mind, and she sits up ramrod straight. “remember that horrendously failed calculus test in freshman year?”

“shut up,” she hisses. “or do i need to need to bring up last year's fortune-telling practical? really, don't pick an elective if you're gonna suck at it. you know what? move your stuff-” she jabs at the sleeve of his robe, which lies on the table between them, almost touching her quill box. “move it. now.”

he grumbles, readjusting his belongings, only to see her drawing a line on the table with her wand. “you're vandalizing school property-” he starts to say, but it glows, revealing it’s a temporary charm.

“and you, ames, need to stay away from me. cross this line and you get explosive diarrhoea, so don’t even test me, okay?”

it's not a long-term solution to keep the peace, though, and she's all too aware of that. what to do, then?

make rayne ames concede to her bidding.

yeah, that seems achievable.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

mádl brothers shade? thrown.

it is 2a.m. at the airport, and what better thing to spend time on than a long-overdue update?

TAGLIST: @xenop0p

© sirhamburrger 2024

[diabolus1exmachina]

Siata 208 CS ( 1 of 6). 

Societá Italiana Auto Trasformazioni Accessori (SIATA) created a marvelous assortment of machinery in its 45-year history under the guidance of the Ambrosini family. Founded by Giorgio Ambrosini in 1926, Siata specialized in performance modifications for Fiats, creating the overhead-valve conversions, multi-speed gearboxes, superchargers, and multi-carb intakes that competitive Italians wanted for their diminutive cars. The Italian auto giant conspicuously ignored—with few exceptions—the high-performance market as the Agnellis concentrated their empire around sensible, reliable, and mass-produced cars of small proportions.Siata received substantial financial assistance from Fiat following the Second World War, and by 1949 they were producing small automobiles which wore custom, house-labeled coachwork. Firmly grafted to Fiat and its engineering, Siata took a giant leap forward with the arrival of Rudolf Hruska in 1950. Hruska had worked in Porsche’s design office before the war and later collaborated with Carlo Abarth on Piero Dusio’s Cisitalia Grand Prix project. Fiat itself plotted its re-entry to the top ranks of Italian performance automobiles in 1950 with the introduction of their two-liter V-8 (dubbed "Otto Vu"), whose development was entrusted to Siata and executed in total secrecy by Hruska’s team.

The unusual oversquare, 70-degree V-8 engine featured all-aluminum castings with wedge-shaped combustion chambers. Induction was through a pair of dual-throat, downdraft Weber carburetors. With its high-revving short-stroke design and 8.5:1 compression ratio, prodigious power was channeled through a four-speed manual gearbox. Hruska planted the engine into a tubular chassis, and this became the basis of Fiat’s 8V.

Debuting at the 1952 Geneva Salon, the 8V caused an absolute sensation perhaps best equated to a meltdown of Italy’s motoring press. For many, the Siata-developed, Fiat-badged supercar defied belief. In particular, the advanced chassis featured a fully independent suspension with coil springs and telescopic shock absorbers at all four corners and was a marvelously sophisticated platform for its time, with supple and predictable handling that amazed drivers accustomed to the rigidly sprung, “flex-framed,” live-axle sports cars of the time.

Approximately 200 Tipo 104 engines were made to supply the 114 8V examples which Fiat ultimately produced. Eighty-five or so surplus engines were thusly returned to Siata, which seized the opportunity to supply them with additional house-made upgrades and implant them into the very chassis from which the earth-shattering Otto Vu had been developed.

The resulting Siata 208 CS was available as an attractive barchetta-like Spider or streamlined berlinetta, which Siata commissioned from a small pool of local coachbuilders including Bertone, Vignale, and Stabilimenti Farina. It is said that Siata openly encouraged the carryover of major styling details which these same companies were providing to Ferrari during the same period.

Perhaps the shapeliest design ever rendered upon the 208 CS, however, was executed by Balbo of Turin. Just nine berlinettas were made, of which only six examples are known to remain extant.