#tumblr going all out on a prompt

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 245

Now Danny would openly admit, if only to himself, that he had a type when it came to relationships. If they were strong, if they were a threat to him, then chances were he would develop some sort of crush. It was how he had dated Sam and Valerie (And Johnny & Kitty) when he was a bit younger, and hell, Sam had technically succeeded in killing him, even if partly. 

Attraction towards smart people who could kill him was honestly par for the course for a Fenton or Nightingale anyway. 

And he’d also admit he enjoyed a bit of time travel, learning about times and culture long before his time, to the point that he could blend in in ancient times just as easily as the time he had been born in. That it was natural to mutter in a language lost to time. 

So color him surprise when another man perks up in the bar he had paused to get a drink in, vibrant green eyes gleaming in interest and responds in turn. And not just in the language, but able to keep up when he talks about things that once existed but haven’t been rediscovered yet. 

And one thing led to the other, and there might have been some assassins and some shenanigans that end with them both laughing together in an inn and then more and- Okay he has a type alright, and he’s ticking each box! How is that fair? 

[sforzesco]

hey! hi! the cartoonist cooperative has an e-sim drive for gaza, offering art for e-sim donations (instructions etc in the link)

[front-facing-pokemon]

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[tesspool]

day 10 swap ;)

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

There is something rotting inside of you

Goretober day one: Rotting

[kveom]

@svtsource carat revival 2024: Picking Favourites and Fights

↳ Bias: DK | insp.

[tiredtreebranch1]

Oh, What Alcohol Can Reveal

Hero opened the door to the solemn face of Villain. Villain wore a long dark coat paired with a black button up shirt and black pants. It looked like a less Villainy version of their normal outfit.

“Bit morose for a trip to the pub don’t you think?” Hero smirked.

Villain glared, “I think it encompasses my feeling of being forced to go to a pub, no less with you.”

“Like I could force you to do anything.”

Villain smirked and gestured to ask if they could be let in. Hero stepped aside and mockingly opened their arms wide in welcome to the apartment. Villain slowly picked their way through the mess that coated the floor and settled onto the couch, after moving a stack of newspapers.

“I’m nearly finished getting ready, I’ll just be a few minutes,” Hero said before walking away.

Villain nodded and surveyed the apartment. They’d been in here before, but not often. Barely anything had changed since they’d been here a year ago. A new painting has been added to a wall but other than that, nothing. Although, the apartment was a lot messier than it used to be. Piles of clothes sat in corners, magazines covered every surface, dishes were stacked high in the small kitchen, altogether it was kind of gross. Despite themselves, the Villain started to clean the apartment. Just small things like grouping all the magazines together in a few piles, throwing out all the crumpled paper that littered the ground. They avoided the dishes and the piles of clothes, that was too far (and took too long to do).

By the time the Hero emerged the apartment was noticeably more organised even if it was still covered in junk.

“You cleaned?” Hero looked confused.

“Because you obviously no longer know how to,” Villain stated airily.

Hero just raised an eyebrow in scepticism, “if you hid a bomb or something I’m going to be so disappointed.”

“I didn’t hide anything, idiot. I just couldn't bear to sit in this filth for more than a minute.”

Hero just shrugged and headed to the door. Villain shook their head and followed. After locking the apartment door, they headed downstairs.

Since Villain had been vehement against the idea of taking public transport Hero decided they might as well walk. The pub was only about a ten minute walk away after all.

After a silent walk, filled with uncomfortable silence and small glares from Villain, they arrived.

As they entered, they were hit with a wave of hot air that heavily contrasted with the blistering cold outside. Straight away Villain scrunched their nose and looked disgusted at the pub and the people within it.

“Go find a table and I’ll go get us some drinks!” Hero yelled over the noise of the crowd.

Villain just nodded. They found a booth table right in the back of the pub. If they had to be here, they would be as far away from the actual activities of the place as they could. They hated the noise and the pungent alcohol smell paired with the body odour of unwashed alcoholics. They hated how everything was sticky, everything. They felt infested by the very air of the place which surely stored a multitude of diseases and human filth. They suddenly wished they hadn’t worn their favourite coat because now they were going to have to burn it. A true tragedy.

Soon enough Hero found them, holding two pints of some sort of beer in their hands. They sat down and carefully sat the dangerously filled glasses on the table.

“I got to the bar and realised I had no idea what you liked to drink so I just got both of us a beer,” Hero pushed it towards Villain, “don’t ask me what type though.”

Villain looked at them, wondering if this had all been a ruse to poison them. Invite them out for a night and then drug them in a public place where they could conceal their malicious intentions with ease. Villain realised that calling the Hero malicious or evil in any way was a blatant lie no matter the circumstance. They were basically an angel. With that thought they decided to just go for it. They took a gulp of the beer and nearly gagged at the taste. Across the table Hero seemed to be in a similar situation, except they really did gag.

“This is disgusting, Hero.”

“Yea, sorry,” Hero said, taking another sip and immediately regretting it.

Villain just shook their head and went and got them each some more drinks.

After a few hours and, admittedly, a few too many drinks Villain seemed to be relaxing. They were getting louder and more boisterous, seeming to be influenced by the mood that floated throughout the pub. They were chatting and humming to the music. Hero couldn’t help but feel proud that they had coaxed this out of Villain. They were both slumped over the table, exchanging comments and grins.

Suddenly Villain sat up, looking and listening.

“What's wrong?” Hero asked, sitting up as well.

Villain grasped their wrist and pulled them away from the table. Looking around, Hero realised they were now in the middle of the pub, which was used as a makeshift dance floor for the drunk and sober alike. They looked at Villain, questioning.

“I fucking love this song,” Villain said passionately.

Hero grinned openly at Villain. Villain grasped them again, but this time started moving them to the music. It was an upbeat song filled with moments of yelled out lyrics. And Villain proudly sung every lyric while twirling Hero around. Hero couldn’t stop laughing, filled to the brim with a swell of unbridled joy.

Everyone in the pub had joined in by the end of the song, some knowing the lyrics and others not caring and joining in otherwise. It filled the building and was exhilarating. Villain grinned from ear to ear not taking their eyes off of Hero. They both spun and sang and danced until the song ended. They were left panting and sharing grins.

They continued this way until they stumbled their way out of the pub at some point in the early morning. Walking back to Hero’s apartment they hung off of each other. It took a few tries for Hero to unlock the door but eventually they made it home.

Villain cringed at the state of the apartment, “seriously though you need to clean.”

“I’m busy,” Hero collapsed onto the couch.

“With what?”

“Stopping you and your friends from destroying the world.”

“You never used to be too busy.”

“I just am now,” Hero snapped at Villain.

Villain raised their eyebrows. Hero looked away.

“You’re hiding something,” Villain said it matter of factly, no question involved.

“I’m not,” Hero answered anyway.

Villain’s eyes bored into Hero. Hero got uncomfortable and stood up, the alcohol muddling their usually logical responses to Villain’s interrogations. Hero decided it would be best to just walk away. So they did, without a word.

“Hero.”

Hero ignored them collapsing into their bed. Someone collapsed onto the other side.

“Who is it?”

“What?” Hero grunted, confused.

“The person you’re seeing? That’s surely the only reason you no longer have the time to take care of yourself. Are you always over at their place?”

Hero laughed, actually laughed, “I’m not seeing anyone,” at a scoff of disbelief they added; “honestly. It’s too hard in this line of work. Too complicated.”

“Okay who is it you’re crushing on then?”

Villain saw Hero’s ears turn red, and presumably the face hidden in their pillow was just as red.

“No one,” came the muffled reply.

“Bullshit.”

“Fuck off.”

“Not until you tell me who it is,” Villain settled further into the bed.

Hero groaned and raised their head to see how serious Villain was. Villain held their gaze steadily. Hero groaned again and dropped their head.

After a few minutes Hero whispered something.

“What?”

“It’s you,” came a slightly louder whisper.

Villain stared at Hero. They watched as once again the pair of ears turned bright red.

It was cute.

They must have taken too long to respond because Hero shifted and sat up. Their face was blank, and the only sign of any previous embarrassment was the fading red in their cheeks. It was kind of scary.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You don’t have to worry about it,” Hero stood up out of the bed and seemed to be distancing themselves from Villain, “I’ll see you at work then I guess.”

Villain stood up as well.

“I hope we can keep things professional,” Hero rambled on, “nothing has to change. Just pretend like nothing-”

Hero was abruptly cut off by a pair of lips slamming against theirs. Immediately they leaned into the kiss, breath snatched away from them.

Villain had effectively cut off their nervous rambling.

Eventually Hero pulled back gasping for air. Villain pulled back as well but kept their arms around Hero, a smug smirk tugged on their mouth.

“You’re an idiot, but you’re my crush too.”

Hero grinned openly at Villain and Villain couldn’t help but grin back.

“Good.”

[cheeto-flavoured-pasta]

framed

@nosebleedclub january prompt 3

Let me out. 

I’m not gonna fucking say it again after this, so listen and obey. Let. Me. Out.

I don’t know who you think you are, or what you think I am, but I can take a pretty good guess. You are a collector, closing everything in boxes, and I am part of your latest compilation. Nothing more than that, just your latest subject, oh goody! Fuck off. I see you, marveling over me and ooh-ing and screaming and recoiling, adoration and disgust all at once. You're not noticing the tiny details, not even now, when you're staring right at them. Right at me. Look at the cracks. The little breaks of the glass. In the wood. You're just that obsessed, aren't you?

God, I should be the one that's sickened.

But no. Instead I'm… angry, sure, but there's this deep pit in your eyes, like you're all-consumed by this obsession, and I can't help but wonder. Are you okay? What's going on?

I hate sympathy. Always have. Is that why you're so… haunted by me? Is that why you can't stop staring and muttering and pondering?

Is that why you can't let me out? You just left me in the dark again. At least leave the light on when you leave me be, goddamnit. You're stumbling out the door, in tears, thinking I can't hear a single word you're saying. "Why was it that way?" "Why did it have to happen like that?" "Why wasn't it different?" All the same variations on regret. 

… Good lord, I wish I could be mad.

The glass just cracked in several places and I'm — fuck, I'm slipping out. I mean, fuck yeah, I'm slipping out, little dark tendrils spilling down the jagged lines. But you won't see me coming. You won't like when I'm outside this door.

Like I said. I hate sympathy. Can't even enjoy freedom with it around.

The post you nailed me to is long gone, so there's nothing nailing my core in place. Every piece of me is all over the place, either inside the frame or outside.

And eventually, I'm out. All out, a vortex, a void, an abyss full of everything painful and nothing at once. 

Apparently you have excellent timing, because you decide that's the time to walk right back in — gaps between visits have been getting shorter — tears barely dry before they start running again.

You don't even stop me when I slither past. You just scream, endlessly, haunted and paralyzed.

....

I hate sympathy.

[suffercerebral]

me having gone to bed at 6 am every day for the past week and generally spiraling mentally while rotting in bed waking up this morning: a 4 mile hike in the heat is a really good idea right now, and while we're at it let's start like 3 art projects

[onedemoniclilly]

Inspired by prompts by corvase

(TW: mentions of Hiromi’s child abuse, canon-type injuries/violence (kinda) (no big deep details, it’s a ramble after all), Karma’s arc is also mentioned (cliff thingy) and although its not a big big spotlight on it ig its a trigger???)

They’re in high school but it's not like they (class 3E) never talk to each other - none of them would dare not to. Not after everything they went through together. But things are getting busy, university entrance exams are approaching and they’re throwing their everything into this cause the whole point of a second knife (and a third, a fourth, a fifth…) is not to use it - it’s to push forwards with your absolute best until you break every single barrier in your way and you succeed. It’s to keep going forwards, keep striving up what seems like an endless uphill path cause you are the only one who can keep his memory and life for him.

Some of them are dating, the obvious couples got together at the beginning - some splitting because although the initial spark was there, they quickly realised it was built on the painfully sharp memory of their sensei and not any substantial feelings. Kanzaki actually asked Sugino out first, but unlike Chiba and Hayami nothing tangible actually came out of it. There was definitely something between Isogai and Maehara but neither of them had officially announced it however others could speculate whatever closer relationship they had needed to be shoved between the cracks of time between work, school and family.

Nagisa and Karma… well the less said about those two the better. In the beginning, there was the whole mess with Nagisa and Kayano - as much as Kayano wanted Nagisa, no one could tell if he was too dense, not interested or busy mooning over Karma. And then there was another entire thing going on between Gakushuu and Karma. People swore up and down the walls that they were dating: “Nothing going between the two- pshh, I swear they were practically sitting on top of each other- I don’t care that they were having a go at each other you can’t deny that there’s something!” And there were always rumours going about over the friendly ‘chat’ the boys had during their Kyoto trip and if Karma was really pulling one over them or not.

One could argue that, unlike Isogai and Maehara, neither of them had a part-time job, nor the pressures of their family disapproving of any single relationship they had. They just had university to worry about and although many couples had agreed to take a break or give each other more space during this time, with the foundation Koro-Sensei had given them and their previous experiences with working to the point of exhaustion despite their results, they weren’t as stressed nor lagging behind in their work. Nagisa’s mother… well their father had caught wind of the whole situation and in a surprising ownership of backbone, had driven from Nagoya back to Tokyo. The anime can say all they want but drugging your son because he won’t listen is not alright and the unnamed father at least can recognise this is blatant child abuse (even looking past the obvious physical, emotional and psychological abuse towards Nagisa).

Hiromi dodged a mental facility but is mandated with a restraining order and obligatory therapy sessions and Nagisa lives with his father now. And although it was a result of some incredibly stressful and terrifying events, Nagisa can’t deny that he does like the freedom his father’s guilt gives him.

Does he care about his appearance? Yes, he cut his hair the moment he got out of his mother's clutches and despite the crawling feeling over his skin every time he feels the ghostly swish of airy fabric over his thighs, he does appreciate the confidence and power a pair of well-fitted jeans, blouse and wig give him when he can turn around and talk back to whatever stuck-up egoistical person decided to hit on him for the night and not worry about the learnt fear a woman has or the fact that they would recognise him next time he walks by with his school friends.

Karma’s parents just don’t turn up ever. There’s the occasional postcard and good job sent via email in response to his latest report card but those are rarer than a successful purchase during the Sunday markets or a cool day during the hot humid days in August.

But there was a wedge driven between the two. Nagisa attends the Keisetsu Daigaku Fuzoku High School whilst Karma returns to his stomping ground at Kunugigaoka High School, having fun antagonising Gakushuu and the school staff because, honestly, who didn’t know about the massive highlighter-yellow sentient octopus up the hill.

But that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is Nagisa was walking back at 3 am to Karma’s and not his dad’s place. He had been drinking with friends cause who doesn’t try it at high school - especially with his friend group at the high school with his newfound confidence in both his own skills (academically and physically - come on they all must excel at gym class now) and his appearance. He’s dressed in a pair of black jeans, the straight leg hanging over a pair of well-worn boots and a graphic t-shirt tucked into the waistband. It would be a well-put-together look for a casual get-together with friends to destress before the final month in the run-up to their exams but a bruise was starting to bloom on his upper shoulder and the back of his jeans was sticking to the back of his calf. His dad would freak at the sight of his injuries and that’s why he was walking the slightly longer trek to Karma’s despite the fact that the only form of communication they’d had in three weeks was over text.

He finally walks up the apartment stairs, sweat beading on his forehead at the exertion and pain he’s in. He considered calling the other boy at some point but ‘why make him wake up just to help him up a couple steps’ he thinks. He stands outside the door, the white paint matching every other apartment along the block debating his options before he lets his head fall forward, a loud and long triiiiiiiiing ring out from the doorbell.

He stays like that for a moment, having managed to shift away from the doorbell and onto the spyhole by the door - unconsciously hoping his blue hair gave him away.

On Karma’s side of things, he’s awake but close to drifting off to sleep. As much as their time in 3E had given them good study habits and he was confident enough in his own abilities to pass the upcoming exams, the amount of revision material his teacher provided that he had to slog through, otherwise prompting an unnecessary video call between his parents and teachers, was a stupidly large amount. And so he was here, a Saturday night, hoping to work early into the morning before passing out for 6 hours, waking for a quick dinner and then sleeping straight to a Monday morning he knew there was a high likelihood he’d skip anyway.

Well, he had let his eyes shut for another moment, enjoying the rocking motion and sweet bliss of nothingness sleep deprivation gave him before his incredibly unexpected doorbell went off.

Now Karma could be your average Joe and go “Now who could that be?” but this is Karma we’re talking about and he goes something more along the lines of “Ughhhsahdhsaarghhhh” cause not only does he have to actually stand up but he has to walk to the door, open it and engage in some random socialisation at…. 3 am????

Now does he spot Nagisa’s strikingly bright hair colour in the spy hole? No. Cause who goes and checks that first before actually opening the door? Instead, he opens the door and gets a tumbling Nagisa tripping over the doorframe into his hallway and himself too.

At first, he’s really really confused cause why is Nagisa here, why at this time, why did he not make the excellent decision to sleep earlier and why- Why Is There Blood Soaking His Jeans.

“Why is there blood soaking your jeans?” He says, admittedly softer (no less concerned) than his inside thoughts. He doesn't receive the answer he really wants but he does get a frustrated huff against his neck (‘So fucking warm- omg Akabane Karma no you should not be thinking about this’) and a “My jeans?” from the smaller boy now in his arms.

They somehow make it to his living space, Nagisa on his sofa (wow it’s used for more than the gaming nights he has with his friends) now half jean-less and Karma inspecting the wound. They haven’t talked yet, just the sound of clothes rustling and the occasional huff of pain as the disinfectant is applied and the injury dressed filling the empty presence of the early morning silence as the sky starts to shift in preparation for the 4 am dawn.

In the end, it’s one of Karma’s intrusive thoughts that managed to make its way to his voicebox and into the living room audio. He doesn’t realise it at first, but he does find out pretty quick that it probably wasn’t something for this moment and time when Nagisa looks up with a quick “What.”

It’s cold, and exactly like the jagged edge of a serrated knife and Karma starts to backpedal (which is pretty hard when you don’t actually know what you’ve said)

“I uh- take that back? Just an intrusive thought, didn’t mean to say it out loud-” And he realises he sounds absolutely delirious but that doesn’t matter all too much to Nagisa right now and here.

“You think… You think I can’t handle myself? Karma you know-”

‘Ah fuck’ Is all Karma could think. And yet, his mouth kept on running stupid stupid words.

“No you can’t! You can’t say that not when you’re on my couch with bloody tissues over in a pile and a bruise over your arm and shoulder.”

“And what gives you the right to lecture me about my choices and my skills and my abilities” cause damn Nagisa spent so long shackled to his own worries and anxieties eating away at him over Was He Good Enough, Would She Be Mad, What Do I Do, to stand being accused of this. “What about you, and how you came in with bruises and cuts, how you got sent down the ladder because you-” and now he’s pouring salt into old wounds and attacking it with a scrubbing brush now, “-because you basically Fucking Asked For It!” And he’s sitting up, one leg still in his jeans, the other he’s trying to keep still and relaxed ‘less the dressing loses its hold and his wound reopens.

“And if I’m a hypocrite, then what about you?” The logical side of Karma’s brain starts to just Go and the more emotional side (maybe its cause wow the guy I’ve been pining over for years is injured and I don’t like that, or maybe it's just can’t he just know that I’m concerned - but there’s zero worry for his own choices Nagisa is accusing him of (he’s accepted his own consequences a long time ago)) takes over.

“You just keep coming back to these things, you’re worse- it’s been going on for Years.” The azure-headed gestures to his own injuries, “It’s not just that- it’s…”

“It’s what?”

“The cliff.”

And the two words start Karma spiralling. But he doesn’t spiral in silence, Karma just keeps talking and talking and the emotions keep building up underneath the rushing memories of falling and darkness and the crashing relief of Alive.

“No fuck you, I know about the bomb - you stupid martyr - I know you are capable; I saw you take down Takaoka fucking twice now but it doesn’t take away from the fact that you were ready to fight the Reaper just for an opening for us to attack” His voice just kept getting louder and louder- he hopes the neighbours aren’t awake.

“Why do you care about me? Why not care about yourself just a bit more?”

“Because I do” and that’s true, he just does. It’s a fact of life - he doesn't know why-

“But why?!”

“Because I love you!” Oh.

Oh.

They return to the silence they had held before sans the sounds of movement. The words registered in Nagisa’s brain before they did in Karma’s but both of them left the confession hanging in the air.

“...you should probably change into something else.” Karma got out, mind making the decision to escape this instead of confronting the words.

“I- yes. I’ll take a shower first.” Nagisa leaves the room, knowing his way around Karma’s apartment, one leg still in his jeans.

Unbeknownst to Karma, currently still standing in his living room, Nagisa practically crumbles; clinging to the wall as he makes his way towards Karma’s bathroom. His mind is reeling, thoughts going absolutely crazy as he peels off his other jeans leg and t-shirt and starts up the shower. The water jets out cold, the hum of the generator leading into a warm spray as he lathers up soap - avoiding his calf as much as he can - before rinsing off and stealing a towel from Karma’s cupboard.

He wanders into Karma’s room, holding his towel up in some form of privacy despite their many onsen trips, and raids his closet and drawers; pulling on a soft pair of joggers that he either has to roll up or risk looking like a penguin and a well-worn t-shirt. Despite the warm summer weather, the apartment is cold and looking at Karma’s study materials on his desk tells Nagisa that he wasn’t asleep when he came ringing his doorbell.

Before he steps into the living room, Karma’s words finally hit him. He stands in front of the bedroom door, contemplating if he’s willing to bypass the etiquette drilled into his very nature and simply just fall asleep in Karma’s bed and deal with everything tomorrow. But no, it’s Nagisa we’re talking about and so he steps into the living room and tentatively asks:

“Do you… do you want to talk about it? Or should I just take the sofa and we can talk in the morning?”

And Karma is just standing there, in the same position as Nagisa left him in and now he’s worried “...Karma?”

The single word tinged with enough concern worry, sadness??? To get his attention and Karma just sits on the couch and Nagisa pads over to sit next to him.

“I just- If you just want to forget everything and stay friends then we can just sleep and wake up in the morning and continue and ignore this-”

Nagisa just nudges Karma and it shuts up his ramble. The boys just sit there for a bit longer, before Nagisa continues, “I don’t know if it’s love for me. But it does feel very natural for me just to flow into… Something closer”

And it isn’t love yet for Nagisa, and maybe not for Karma either because Nagisa still carries the hurt when Karma drifted that one school year and Karma carries the guilt of being scared. And yes, they’ve talked about this but it's still a significant part of their lives. They’ll work things out, they’ve already talked about it once and now the topic is less hard to breach but right now Karma will let Nagisa have the option of the sofa and the bed and Nagisa will shoot a “Well the bed’s big enough for two enough, might as well make the most of your parent’s money” and they do sleep in the same bed, backs together but hearts going slightly faster before their breathing evens out.

They don’t sleep long enough to complete Karma’s plans to wake up just for dinner but Nagisa does start lunch which in turn wakes Karma. And they eat a simple lunch of rice, veg and meat then spend time looking over Karma’s revision sheets cause even though Nagisa plans to go into education in university, he’ll never turn down free knowledge cause that’s not what Koro-Sensei would have done nor wanted.

And maybe Karma struggles writing a text a few weeks later with the simple “Cafe for Lunch - Sun?” On a Saturday evening but Nagisa beats him to it with a “Sunday - Lunch/dinner???” And it's a horrid affair cause both of them are menaces to society when paired together but they leave the premise laughing and go back to Karma’s for dinner and when Nagisa leaves to head back home Karma leans against the doorway and asks “After exams, wanna go camping?”

And Nagisa knows deep down that this will all work out.

2023/10/27

[real-life-cloud]

im GOING to write today ........ i WILL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[whysamwhy123]

So, I started writing a dumb crackfic about a bunch of my blorbos attempting to hit on my newest blorbo because it was funny in my head buuuuut turns out I'm not funny enough to bring it to life so I probably ain't gonna finish it. But I don't wanna feel like I completely wasted my time, so I'm just gonna drop the unfinished thing here because I can't seem to make myself continue it. It's a shame because I feel like it would have gotten a little better/funnier after I got the set-up out of the way, I had plans for where this would go, but alas, my brain has failed me yet again. And whatever, this most likely appeals to absolutely no one anyway, so here it is, read at your own risk because it sucks!

Jack was minding his own business before the show, wandering the halls while dicking around his phone, when he spotted Hook, just standing there.

‘’Hey man, what’s up?’’ he said, leaning against the nearest wall, still looking at his phone.

When no response came, Jack looked up. Hook was still as a statue, his eyes focused forward. Did he not hear him?

‘’Hello? Hook?’’

Jack got closer and slowly turned his head in the direction Hook was staring. ‘’What are you looki - whoa!’’

Jack almost dropped his phone when he first caught a glimpse of her. No wonder Hook was staring - she had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever soon. She was fucking gorgeous. The kind of woman that’s so beautiful it feels like she shouldn’t be allowed to exist. Or that you shouldn’t be allowed to look at her, how dare you think yourself worthy! But she was real and she was right there all the way over on the other side of the hallway. She seemed to be checking how she looked in her phone’s camera, adjusting her long blonde hair and examining her makeup as though it wasn’t already perfect. She was perfect. She was wearing this all red ensemble that showed off just how killer her body was. And she was tall too. Long legs.

Jack’s mouth was agape. He knew it wasn’t polite to stare but how could he not?

‘’Jack, buddy,’’ Hook said, not taking his eyes off the beauty across the hall. ‘’I’ve found my next conquest.’’

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her either. Who could blame them? ‘’Who is that?’’

Hook somehow managed to tear his eyes away from the vision they’ve been blessed to look upon and turned his head to Jack instead. ‘’My next conquest. Weren’t you listening?’’

Jack forced himself to look away - any longer and he was about to start drooling. ‘’No, who is she? What’s her name? I’ve gotta know.’’

���’You seriously don’t know who she is?’’

The two men whirled around to find Daniel Garcia right next to them.

‘’How long have you been there?’’ Hook asked.

Daniel waved him off, a whatever gesture and then nodded his head in the direction of the unbelievably gorgeous woman. ‘’That’s Mariah May!’’

Hook and Jack blinked at him.

‘’From Stardom?’’

More blinking.

‘’Club Venus? Rose Gold?’’

‘’You’re just saying words at us, man,’’ Hook said.

Daniel gave them a judgemental look. ‘’You guys don’t watch Stardom? For real? Do you not watch any joshi wrestling at all?’’

Jack scratched the back of his neck. Hook gave a half-hearted shrug.

Daniel shook his head. ‘’What’s wrong with you guys? Y’all got no taste. Where else do you find spots to steal?’’

‘’My dad,’’ Hook said.

At the same time, Jack said, ‘’Shawn Michaels, I guess?’’

Daniel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘’I’m surrounded by uncultured swines. Look, she was one of the hottest - literally - free agents in the business. She just signed here, she’s debuting tonight.’’

‘’She’s a wrestler?’’ Hook said. ‘’Damn. Would have been easier if she was a rat.’’

‘’She could be,’’ Daniel said. ‘’You can be a wrestler and a rat at the same time.’’

Hook narrowed his eyes at Daniel. ‘’You would know.’’

Daniel smiled back, completely oblivious. ‘’Yeah, I mean, look at Adam Cole. Or Edge. Or CM Pu -’’ He stopped himself and his eyes went wide in Jack’s direction. A very uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them, one that seemed to last precisely one million years. ‘’...other examples…’’

‘’Alright, enough standing around,’’ Hook said finally. He took his hands out of his hoodie pocket and cracked his knuckles. ‘’I’m going in.’’

Two hands, one from Daniel and one from Jack, shot out and grabbed his hoodie, preventing him from taking a step.

‘’No way,’’ Daniel said.

‘’Nuh uh,’’ Jack added.

Hook glared at the two. ‘’I saw her first.’’

Daniel was aghast. ‘’No, I saw her first! You didn’t know who she was until fifteen seconds ago!’’

‘’That doesn’t count,’’ Hook argued. ‘’I saw her first in the building, so I get first dibs.’’

‘’That’s not fair!’’ Jack whined.

Daniel said, ‘’You don’t understand, man - I’ve been crazy about this girl ever since I first saw her on Stardom World. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months - that could be the love of my life right there!’’

‘’Yeah, well, I wanna fuck her,’’ Hook said, as though that was the most airtight, well-reasoned counterpoint imaginable. ‘’You can fanboy over her all you want after I’m done with her.’’

‘’Hell no! I don’t want your sloppy seconds!’’

‘’If ‘the love of your life’ is sloppy seconds, what does that say about you, huh?’’

Hook and Daniel had been gradually inching closer to each other with each response. They both looked mad, like they were one second away from throwing punches. Jack couldn’t let that happen. Not after last time…

He put a hand on each man’s shoulder and created some distance between them. ‘’Guys, guys, calm down! We don’t need to fight.’’

Clearer heads seemed to prevail, Hook and Daniel shared a nod and then their body language changed, less guarded.

‘’Besides, you’re both wrong,’’ Jack continued. ‘’I should get to approach her first.’’

Hook and Daniel, now suddenly allies, raised an eyebrow each at Jack. ‘’Why?’’ they both asked at the same time.

‘’Because…’’ Jack started. His mind drew a blank. ‘’...I…want to…’’

Now it was Jack’s turn to be blinked at. He wracked his brain - he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away, not when the girl in question was that hot.

‘’Okay, here’s why it should be me! Or, I guess, here’s why it shouldn’t be either of you!’’ He pointed at Daniel. ‘’You hit on girls all the time, while I don’t. So much. So it’s only fair that I got a shot first because, you know, it’s a special occasion.’’ Daniel looked incredulous and opened his mouth to respond but Jack cut him off by pointing at Hook and continuing. ‘’And you! Aren’t you already seeing someone?’’

‘’Uh, no? The fuck you talking about?’’ Hook asked, looking very annoyed at the mere suggestion.

‘’What about that girl you hook up with all the time? The one who’s always texting you? Carly something?’’

Hook rolled his eyes. ‘’Alright, look - technically, I never told Carly we were exclusive. I just…told her a bunch of other stuff and she kinda assumed and I didn’t correct her because I didn’t wanna seem like an asshole. But just because she lets me hit on the regular doesn’t mean I owe her anything - she should understand that. So how is it my fault if she gets mad about something like this?’’

Jack furrowed his brow at his best friend. ‘’You…you don’t seriously think that, right? That’s gross!’’

‘’Nah, that makes perfect sense,’’ Daniel said. ‘’Flawless logic. She’s the one in the wrong, not you.’’

He and Hook shared a quick fistbump. Fuckboy solidarity.

Jack sighed deeply. ‘’See? This is why I should get to shoot my shot first - I won’t treat like her dirt like you two assholes!’’

Daniel looked offended. ‘’I’ll have you know, I’ll treat her like a queen!’’

Hook nodded. ‘’Yeah, same. Unless she doesn’t want me to, you know?’’

Fistbumps all around.

‘’There’s gotta be a way we can decide, fairly, who gets to go first,’’ Jack said. ‘’Some way we can settle this like mature adults. Like men.’’

The three men took a long moment to ponder their predicament and search for an appropriate solution.

Hook glanced down at his fist. ‘’Rock, paper, scissors?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Jack said, emphatically.

Daniel rubbed his hands together. ‘’Alright, how we doing this? Elimination style or triple threat rules?’’

Jack decided to defer to Hook; it was his idea after all.

Hook considered it for a moment. ‘’The usual 3-way match rules. First to score a fall wins.’’

The three of them formed a triangle and each of them placed a fist onto their other palm, ready and waiting. After silently confirming they were all ready through a series of shared nods, Jack took it upon himself to count them down.

‘’Okay, here we go! Rock, paper, scissors, sh -’’

Before he could finish, Jack was shoved back by Daniel, his back colliding with the wall. Daniel then grabbed Hook’s hand, still balled into a fist, and promptly covered it with his own palm, preventing Hook from changing his option and signalling paper-beats-rock.

‘’I win!’’ he announced proudly.

Hook ripped his hand away. ‘’Like hell you do!’’

‘’The fuck was that?!’’ Jack demanded, rubbing his back where it was now sore. ‘’That wasn’t a win, you cheated!’’

Daniel smiled smugly. ‘’No, I didn’t. We said triple threat rules - that means it’s No DQ.’’

A lengthy discussion ensued about what exactly constitutes a disqualification in a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, hollowed by a side tangent about why there aren't disqualifications in a triple threat match. Upon realising that they weren’t going anywhere and were just wasting time, they all agreed to play by elimination rules. Hook was the first fall, picking paper while Jack and Daniel went with scissors. And in the finals, Jack’s paper bested Daniel’s rock. How poetic.

‘’Yes!’’ Jack exclaimed triumphantly. He took a great deal of satisfaction in Hook and Daniel’s sour, dejected expressions.

Jack glanced back over to confirm that Mariah was a) still there and b) hadn’t overheard any of that, which turned out to be true on both counts. She was in the exact same spot as before, still admiring herself in her phone’s camera. Jack could relate.

Jack took a few deep breaths to psyche himself up. ‘’Okay, Jack, you got this. You got this! I know exactly what’ll work here!’’

Hook groaned. ‘’You’re not seriously gonna try that again, are you?’’

‘’I told you, it totally works!’’ Jack said, defiant. ‘’Sometimes.’’

‘’What’s he talking about?’’ Daniel asked.

Hook sighed. ‘’He has this thing he does to try and pick up girls. It’s stupid - he just stands around looking sad and supposedly, a girl will eventually come up to him and ask him what’s wrong.’’

‘’It. Works. Sometimes,’’ Jack insisted.

Daniel considered that. ‘’Huh. Yeah, I can see it. One time, there was this girl who told me I had ‘sad eyes’ and it was half the reason she fucked me. So you might be onto something.’’

With his confidence boosted, Jack took another breath to calm his nerves and headed down the hallway to his target. He willed himself to stay calm, but he grew more nervous with each footstep. The closer he got, the better he could see her. She was even more stunning up close.

When he was near enough, he put on his game face. Which was to say, he put on his best sad puppy dog eyes and leaned against the wall, dejected.

His head was bowed, but he could see Mariah out of the corner of his eye. Unfortunately, she was still distracted by her own reflection. Jack didn’t blame her, but he really needed her to look his way. 

He let out a loud sigh. Nothing. So he sighed louder. Still nothing. The third sigh was so loud and exaggerated, it was almost comical. But it was the one that got the job done. Mariah finally looked up from her phone and found him there. There was a flash of concern on her face and Jack knew his diabolical plan was working.

‘’Excuse me, are you alright? You look really sad!’’

Whoa, she has an English accent? Jack wasn’t expecting that. It took him a couple of seconds to process and actually respond.

‘’Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just one thing after another today, you know?’’

Jack knows this is the part where she asks more questions about why he’s so sad and tries to cheer him up.

Mariah just hummed. ‘’Okay,’’ she said, and then turned her attention back to her phone.

Uh oh. It’s not going according to plan! Jack’s brain scrambled for what to do next. He pushed himself away from the wall and closer to her.

‘’Uh, hey, wait! Uh, I’m Jack!’’ he said, offering his hand out.

She eyed his hand curiously and then reluctantly shook it. Goddammit, why did he try to shake her hand? That’s not romantic, that’s…business-y?

‘’Nice to meet you, I guess,’’ she said. ‘’I’m Mariah May.’’

‘’Yeah, I know who you are,’’ Jack said. He wracked his brain for what it was Daniel said about her back there. ‘’I saw you wrestle in, uh…Venus World?’’

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Okay i know I keep talking about how much I’m enjoying this month’s prompt, but it is starting to get out of hand so I had to just end it. There’s like so much I could add to and ramble about, like this is definitely a long game one (I mean they’re always meant to be slowburn but I’m impatient), the potential for drama and everyone else getting into their business! The denial, the whole fuck it we ball, adding different characters and playing with the dynamics! There’s just a lot okay, and this is only one of the sports I love. I’ve already plotted in my mind the other two sports AU’s and the vibes and roles they have there is just everything to me. I’m well aware no one cares, and I do want to finish my WIPs before I even think about starting a whole sports series. But yeah, I’m just very excited cause my fandom is colliding and it’s so self indulgent. Even more so than anything else I’ve ever written. My American is definitely showing and I don’t even have to try and tone it down, it’s part of the fic, I get to be as biased as I want with absolutely no shame. Love this for me <3

Update: what a wonderful sports day, and I finished the October prompts! Which means I get to focus on my WIPs hopefully… I’ve got a lot of fun things to do this month so I’ll probably be distracted. But I’m hopeful I’ll finally be done with IWICL, or at the very least update Devour (I’m like two chapters ahead I believe but I haven’t edited, so I’ll have to get on that.)

[revasserium]

let's try something;

send me an archetype and a character

and i'll write you a thing.

[supercimi]

Your friend has always been a bit carefree

Whenever he gave you those gifts, he basically just shoved them into your hands as If giving you some candy or something

He liked to joke around and get you in dumb situations all the time, sometimes those shenanigans got you in trouble, other times it ended in a rather underwhelming repercussions, like the flower bed incident when you were small.

Lucky for the both of you, the neighbourhood community had already wanted to get rid of that flowerbed, so you only got cleaning duty for three months because of what you two did

Maybe because of this, he would sometimes give you these gifts? He is a trickster and gets in trouble a lot yea but not a bad friend, u know?

Just yesterday, he told you that his next gift was gonna be awesome!

But why did he need you to wait in the square park for that?

...

It's been so long now...

How many hours have you been waiting?! And you were just praising him! He should just wait until you are back!! You shall not have his back!

Trudging away in anger and saddled with annoyance you finally reached your home

I mean homes, you two are neighbours after all,

"Hey! Where did that idio-"

Just as you snapped the gate doors open, the sight before you sucked any words you had left out of your mouth

"Oh, ops I got caught huh?" Your friend sheepishly confessed

"...." your gaping mouth couldn't catch up with your brain fast enough to close, but that was the least of your concerns right now

"You don't have any questions? " that same carefree tone and face yet, just what was going on?

There in front of you he stood, shimmer by shimmer he was fading away,

Words could not form, thoughts would not churn.

You could only stare

"Hey now, don't make that face," he laughed sheepishly like he did when he felt at loss

Why? What? How?

You could not say any of that

You couldn't even close your mouth

".....h..w..what?...how?" You finally managed to let out

Looking at his stupid face you wanted to claw the answers right out of his mind

But you couldn't, you wouldn't, even if you could.

"....because I made lots of mistakes?" He hummed as if thinking to himself

"So what! Why would this happen?!" Your confusion ignored, but that ignited your still mouth, and it finally spun its cries

"Because i made up for them all!"he boasted cheerily as if he wasn't fading more and more

"Wha?" Your confusion only multiplied but your words lost their strength

The passing time was only proved by his fading eyes

"...please just tell me your reasons" you tried a final time your earlier annoyanc and grievance at being stood up long forgotten

Looking at you for the uptenth time tonight, quite and kind, he wasn't someone who would have such a gentle look

"....because i care," smiling widely he answered vaguely yet again.

Streching your arms to grab that stupid figure, you barely had your words!

"That doesn't explain anything you doofus!"

You cried as your hands caught air

Your friend wasn't here anymore

.

...

....

.." ghr..dang..it...you.." blabbering your words, you could not speak anymore

You only cried in confusion

And that's okay

Despite every reality we had, you were always there for me.

You always went along with me

You had my back even when you didn’t recognize me

Be it in the past ir the future, or even in the present

You were my family

My friend

My teacher

My partner in crime

My only constant in the world

When you were gone, my world was gone

I searched for you, countless worlds and times, but they all aren't you

Well, they are you, but not you at the same time... Maybe that's why eventually i gave their original friends back to them

Because they were not my friend whom i lost

Maybe because i did that, i found you again

One final time

I had my family again for the last time

If the price for that was my life, it didn't really sound so bad

I hope you live on much more happily this time

We only had one life after all

Farewell, my friend.

Your friend keeps giving you very random gifts at completely random times. It seemed like an odd but nice gesture, until you realise each gift has saved your life from any sort of incident some time after accepting it.