#wrote most of this at 2 am

[vivid-bad-brainrot]

Present Apologies, Belated Apologies

Akito & Kohane

➔ After costing Vivid BAD SQUAD a win at a battle event, Akito’s guilt is evident but he’ll keep it inside himself to feign strength around others. Well, that’s what he would have done if Kohane wasn’t so adamant that he shouldn’t be sorry.

★ Wordcount: 2,129

☆ Fic takes place earlier in canon, probably a bit after bout for beside you

★ /p, can be interpreted as /r if you please

“Shinonome-kun, you always tell me I apologize too much but…” Kohane fumbled around with her fingers, attempting to find the right words to say, as if she were treading a tightrope rather than solid pavement. She met his gaze again, “I do find it a little hard to take you seriously when you do it even more. The thing is, you don't expect forgiveness. At all.”

Akito nearly stopped in his tracks entirely, “What?”

She smiled at him sheepishly with a subtle shrug, “I just…I don’t think you’ve said a sentence without the word ‘sorry’ in it since we left the venue.”

“Well, I am.” He huffed, looking at the road ahead of them again. “I totally screwed things up back there. Is this you trying to take the blame for it? I told you to stop doin’ that.”

His steps were undoubtedly heavier on the ground, it wouldn’t take a genius to notice that. With a grunt, he attempted to fix his composure so as to not look weak. Of all people, he didn’t want Kohane to see that side of him.

It had been strange lately. Kohane was his fuel, watching her improve so rapidly pushed him to reach for greater heights. Despite their differences in experience, oddly enough Akito felt this need to…impress her? No, not that. He wanted her to see him just as he saw her; someone who’s resolve was infectious, someone who you couldn’t bear to imagine pursuing your passions without.

Along with her developed confidence, Kohane had also grown unrelenting with time. With that, a sprinkle of stubbornness was always sprinkled into her speech. “It’s not fair of you to take the fall.”

“Well, who’s fault is it?” He attempted to keep his tone level. The last thing he wanted to do was to lash out at her. Kohane didn’t deserve that, just like he didn’t deserve her. How she somehow stayed by his side (even if it was just because of Vivids and BAD DOGS merging) despite how much of a prick he used to be towards her was beyond him. Kohane was the type of person he didn’t think had ever gotten angry in her life. He thought it would be good for her. Especially if she got mad at him. It was something that would suit him right.

“No one’s!” Kohane tried, sounding a little desperate. Screw Akito and his awful perception, sometimes he didn’t want to be able to tell what others thought about him. Sometimes, he hated that he even cared about trivial things like that in the first place. Those kinds of worries wouldn’t bring him any closer to surpassing RAD WEEKEND. They anchored him in the past.

He sort of regretted offering to walk her home after the event. Kohane lived the furthest away from Vivid Street out of them, closer to Miyamasuzaka for reasons that probably had to do with the proximity to her school and all. This meant that Kohane had ample time to refuse to accept his apologies. And it gave him an even longer time to mull over things.

As they reached a crosswalk and waited for their signal to cross, Kohane tugged on his sleeve to garner his attention, as if it was on anyone but her in the first place. The look on her face was so sincere, Akito honestly thought his self loathing was warping how he processed things. She should be mad at him. “Shinonome-kun…If it were me who had made that mistake during the show, what would you say to me?”

His voice had cracked during one of his solo parts, at the end of the prechorous where the hype had the strongest potential energy. It was so obvious, too, that he felt as if BROWN simply shouldn’t have let him in there in the first place. As a result of his complete blunder, it had costed Vivid BAD SQUAD their victory and shattered their winstreak.

The MCs would always set Vivid BAD SQUAD up as these teenage hotshots who’s talent rivaled long-time performers. In the couple months they’d been a team, they’d already built a name for themselves. Everyone had to do their part to uphold it. It was that reputation that allowed them to get into more famous livehouses were they could stand on the stage and walk in the footprints of the legends who had built Akito’s dream up from the bottom simply with the memories they had paved Vivid Street with. He couldn’t go out and destroy it, make them look like a liability to certain livehouses. Maybe a part of him was somehow attatched to the time he and Touya had spent performing together as BAD DOGS, when all sorts of livehouses would invite them to perform as some sort of sick comedy routine. To see some kids try to perform, expectations unfairly low.

Music was more of a battlefield than the soccer field could ever be. Music had taught him how to fight. It wasn’t until he had found Vivid BAD SQUAD and the vocaloids that it had taught him how to love.

Noticing how he completely zoned out, Kohane seized his wrist lightly (although he was sure she was holding him as tight as she could muster) and pretty much pulled him across the crosswalk. Oh, he needed to stop his pity party right now, because at this point Kohane was practically walking him to her house—not the other way around. He couldn’t waste her time like that.

They turn a corner, onto the street where Kohane lived. He hadn’t answered her question yet, but she wasn’t at all pushy. Not expectant that he answer it right away and still not mad at him for some reason.

If it were Kohane who had made his mistake…

“I would tell you to tough it out.” Akito said simply, “And not to go so hard on yourself if you were upset about it.”

“You would say that me,” She grinned at him and held her hands behind her back curtly, brown eyes nearing amber in the gold of the setting sun, “You’d say the same thing to An-chan and Aoyagi-kun, and you’d still find a way to shift the blame over to yourself.”

Akito halted and turned to face her entierly. He probably looked like he was drowning on air. Maybe it would have been better if he was.

“Why cant those words apply to yourself as well?” Kohane asked. “Why do you have to be sorry?”

“Because I…uhm—” Akito suddenly hated the fact he decided to wear so many layers. They had never felt so suffocating or that they were heavy with absorbed sweat (ew). He wavered for a few moments.

Now that he thought about it, usually he’s the one being blunt about the other person's problems, like An’s. She had been so stressed out about Kohane, so Akito decided it was his apparent right to help her discover how she actually felt about it all. But now, it’s as if the roles were reversed and now he was the one getting a slap in the face of a reality he hadn’t realized he’d be living in.

Hypocrite.

And it was Kohane who was telling him all of this. He never looked at Kohane—back when they had first met and she had her hair long and his face was in a permanent scowl—and ever once though they’d actually grow this close. Where they’d be having this conversation and Azusawa Kohane of all people could read him like a book. He didn’t even wear his heart on her sleeve like she did; she just knew him. A part of that was terrifying.

“I just….” He trailed off, at a loss.

“I hope it’s not coming off like I’m trying to dictate your emotions or anything—It’s really important to feel things!—I want you to know…it’s not just your burden anymore.”

“So, why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Eh?”

“Kohane, you have every right to be angry at me,” Akito breathed, looking down at the sidewalk under them. “I don’t understand…why you’re so good to me.”

Kohane’s face wrinkled in confusion as she tilted her head at him.

“I never apologized for being an asshole to you, when I questioned your resolve every chance I got. I never apologized to you for calling you a shrimp and all those other things. You deserve so many apologies. It’s why I tell you not to apologize to me over stupid things. ‘Cause I should be the one apologizing to you instead.”

Kohane blinked. “What?”

“I’m sorry. Im sorry for everything—“

“Shinonome-kun.” She said firmly, sending an unfamiliar jolt up and down his body. She placed her hands on his shoulders and huffed, “When you said all those things to me, that wasn’t the you I know now. And, um, if you ask me, you said those words to a completely different person, too.”

“That doesn’t excuse anything I did, though.” Akito protested, and Kohane shook her head.

“You and An-chan are always preaching about moving forward, right? ”

“Yes…” Then, Akito realized, “Oh.”

He wasn’t the type to get so in his head about little things—especially if they were far behind him. But Kohane…she brought out this side of himself he hadn’t realized existed…or maybe the parts of himself he had been trying to shut out. He was a big proponent of the idea that if you couldn’t go back in time to change things…there was no point in worrying that much about it. Like most things, it was far easier said than done.

“Besides,” Kohane removed her hands from his shoulders at last with a heavy breath. She ran a finger through a pigtail, “I think I forgave you the moment I cut my hair.”

Kohane started walking again so Akito followed along like a lost puppy. They stepped onto her front porch just as the sun dipped under the horizon.

“Will your parents be angry that you’re coming home so late?” He asked, knowing it was his fault for keeping her out later than necessary. “Touya’s dad gets real pissy when he’s out late, so…”

“They’re used to it by now.” Kohane replied with an airy laugh, bending down to lift the doormat up and grab the key from under it. “My dad says for every hour past curfew I stay up, I owe him one picture with my camera.”

“Oh.” Akito scratched his nape. “I’m sorry for keeping you for so long.”

“Shinonome-kun, it’s really rude to ignore everything I’ve been saying.” She crosses her arms indignantly, but her face tells a completely other story; a lighthearted one.

He didn’t know why after all of this, he still wanted to tell her ‘no’.

So close to the door, they might as well be stalling time to stay in each other's gazes, like it was an honor to be embraced by the attention of the other. “Even if you forgave me…that doesn’t mean I deserve to be forgiven.”

“You do.” She said earnestly. “When it first happened, I really…was hurt by it all. But, we both watched each other as we grew into better people. And I hope we continue to do that by each other’s sides.”

She looked down, suddenly shy and twiddled with the key in her hands, watching the porch-light be reflected on the metalic material. “I really admire you, Shinonome-kun. So, I want you to be able to forgive yourself as well. Can you promise me you’ll try to do that?”

I admire your courage to be so forgiving, he thought, but settled with, “I’ll try. I…” he wasn’t the best at verbally communicating how he felt, so he probably sounded strained as he told her, “I admire you as well.”

She looked a little surprised. Even he was a little bit. He was normally as blunt as a knife, but when it came to…emotions, his edge was dulled with ease.

“That settles it, then.” Kohane decided. She opened her arms up, but quickly glued them at her sides with the flush of her cheeks.

“Go ahead,” He said, even though he felt a little embarrassed at the prospect of giving someone the clear to hug him. Kohane echoed his feelings, but eventually wrapped him into a hug. Huh. It was a little strange they’d never hugged before…

Instead of saying sorry, he uttered a small, “Thank you,” Into the crown of her hair. “For giving me a chance to grow as well.

She whispered into his shoulder, “I think you’ve been feeling really guilty for a really long time.”

“Maybe.”

“At the end of the day, we’re not that different from each other. We both just want to prove ourselves. It drives you mad, too, doesn’t it?”

[zevrra]

𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩: the last thing you had expected in your years of peace was to see a ghost from your past; joel miller. a man you had known years ago, who had left you years ago, and one you had tried your hardest to avoid since you ended up in jackson. but none of that mattered now when he shows up on your doorstep with a pale face and a wounded leg.

𝐰𝐜: 2.5k

𝐟𝐭: jackson!joel x ex-gf!reader

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: mdni, one shot, angst, hurt/comfort, tw blood, tw injuries, tw needles, ex established relationship, slight age gap, medic!reader, eventual fluff, mentions of joel being a smuggler, joel is on the verge of tears in this, he’s a lil insecure if you squint.

𝐚/𝐧: this probably isn’t any good but i couldn’t get the idea of it out of my head AAA

“H-hey, uh, can I come in?” Joel half ass chuckles before sucking in a breath from the pain, leaning against your door to support himself. 

You quickly glance over the pale man, immediately catching the scarlet staining his pants from what you assume is a pretty deep wound. And in your heart you know you’ll never turn him away but dammit if you don’t consider closing the door, stepping away, and leaving him this time. But you couldn’t. No matter what, he was still Joel, and you couldn’t leave him to die. 

“This way. Just try not to get blood…everywhere.” You say with a roll of your eyes before moving to his side, taking up one of his arms and laying it across your shoulder and guiding him into your home. You carry him off towards the bathroom, the cleanest place you can think of, settling him down on the edge of the tub. “Take off your stuff.” 

“Not gonna help?” Joel teases but the look you give him shuts him up, for the moment. He begins to strip to the best of his ability while you rummage under the sink for your damn first aid kit. Finding it right about the same time he’s attempting to shed his durable jacket. 

You set the first aid kit on the closest ledge to the bathtub before begrudgingly helping Joel out of his clothes. You toss his brown durable jacket onto the floor behind you before your fingers head straight for the buckle on his belt. You twist and turn it, like you’ve done…far too many times, before discarding it along with his coat. Your nimble fingers quickly work on his jeans next; using your own knee for support as you strip him of his stained jeans, finally allowing you a decent look at what he’s gotten himself into.

“Shit…” You swear under your breath, slightly turning his badly wounded leg to the side, just to see how far the knife wound goes. 

Joel laughs though, despite the circumstances. “That bad, huh?” He groans at the first press of your fingers, sucking in another sharp painful breath.

You don’t answer him, ignoring him for the moment as you continue to look at the wound. Blood bubbles under your examination and you needed something to stop the bleeding an hour ago. You move back to the bathroom sink, grabbing a towel and drenching it in the warmest water you can manage before moving back to the battered man. You press the soaked towel into his wound as hard as you can, fishing for another towel at your feet and handing it to him. “You know what to do with that.” 

Joel takes the towel you offer him, wrapping it around the thicker part of his thigh, right above the wound, and ties it tight around his leg; a late attempt to stop the bleeding while you work your magic. “Damn hunter,” Joel grunts through the pain, tightening the towel with every word. “Didn’t see him. Caught me on my way back to town.” 

You weren’t that interested in how he got to this point. Knowing what happened would just make your fingers tremble and your heart hurt. So you try your best not to indulge him. “You’re just getting old.” You mutter back before you press hard into the wound, your other hand rummaging with the lid of the first aid kit beside you. You retrieve a thin needle and the sutures needed for stitching the wound, nodding your head for Joel to replace your hand with his as you attempt to thread the needle as quickly as you can.

Joel starts to chuckle but the pain spreading across his thigh has him trailing off into a groan. Once successfully threading the needle, you return to your work, peeling off your now ruined towel from Joel’s wound. 

“You know I was, uh, never…good with words,” Joel frets, picking at something invisible under his nails. Dull and dim from years of working with his hands. “But uh…thank you. For this.” 

“Yeah, you made that a little too obvious, Joel.” You hum back, hoping to hurt him as much as his knife wound did, before continuing to work on the task at hand. Your fingers trail along his inner thigh, smoothing over the edge of his wound, sizing it up once more. “Now, no more moving. Or talking.” You add before placing the needle on some clean gauze, reaching for alcohol to sterilize the wound and the needle. 

Silence falls between the two of you, allowing you to focus entirely on fixing him up. With a deep breath, you steady your hands before pressing the tip of the needle directly into his skin. You move skillfully, having also done this a time or two, pushing the needle in, stitching it across, threading it back down to tightly seal the wound. You keep your gaze locked on the work you do. Watching every press of the needle and the sutures that follows suit. You may be upset about some other old wounds of your own opening up— but at least Joel wouldn’t die to this one; not this time. 

“Just like…old times, huh?” He says through gritted teeth, tossing his head back when you press the needle through his skin.

You exhale an annoyed huff through your nose at his statement. Trying your damned best to quickly do the rest of the stitching needed to keep him from bleeding out everywhere. You didn’t want to linger too long anyway.  “Heh, yeah, before you left me in the middle of the night, right?” You say, biting your bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. No, you couldn't break down crying…not right now, not in front of him.

After what feels like maybe forever, with just a few more twists of your needle, you’ve managed to completely sew up his knife wound. Quickly, you knot the edge of the thread as tight as you can, clipping the suture with a pair of metal scissors before tossing the entire kit back into its box. With a slam of the lid, you forcibly close it, turning to put the first aid kit back where it rightfully belongs— for next time. Why you would ever hope there was a next time…you didn’t know. Didn’t really need to get your hopes up. 

What you needed was a fucking drink. 

“You’re still angry at me.” Joel weakly says, clearing his throat in an attempt to try and not make everything so damn awkward…it obviously wasn’t working. 

In that moment, everything comes back to you in a rush. The feelings, the sleepless nights, the tears you shed…everything rushes up like a punch to the gut; knocking the air from your very lungs. “Dammit Joel!” You yell, turning on your heel to stare him down, unable to stop the tears from forming this time. “Of course I’m still angry! I spent months waiting on…fucking anything from you! You left me in a world full of shit!” You choke out, picking up his coat and throwing it at him with as much force as you can manage. It almost pisses you off more that he easily catches it without so much as a flinch. Your next target is the bloodied towel as you pick it up with a tight grip.

And you think the silence that stretches for mere seconds right then and there was going to be the end of it…but your thoughts just keep spilling out. 

“You would rather throw your life away than tell me goodbye! You didn’t care if you died tomorrow while I sat waiting, hoping, praying for your god forsaken safe return.” You cry out, pointing an accusing finger his way. “But what hurts the most, damn you, is that I could never stay angry at you! I knew you had your reasons! Knew in my heart I…I would always forgive you!” You finally snap, slamming down the blood soaked rag into your sink. You turn away from him once more, tension lining every inch of the muscles in your shoulders as you grip the edge of your bathroom sink for any semblance of balance. You wished you could keep going, to yell at him some more to make up for all the lost time the two of you had but your words are quickly replaced with broken sobs and hot tears streaming down your face. 

The silence, once welcomed, is now suffocating. The only sound echoing inside the room was that of your pathetic sobs. You think for a split second that maybe he’s going to just gather his things and leave you, to flee into the night, never to be seen again…but instead of listening to him run away, you feel a shaky hand press into the small of your back. 

Joel stands beside you, hazel gaze full of sadness and worry as he looks down at you. He leans heavily against the vanity, trying his best to keep up off his hurt leg for the moment. 

“I’m…an idiot. And sorry.” Joel whispers as he retrieves his hand from your back, moving it to caress the side of your face— and like a fool, you let him. “I can’t apologize enough. I just…dammit, I was scared. I’m not a good man, darlin’. I was a smuggler back then and was…terrified you might end up hurt because of it. I’ve lost too fuckin’ much. I couldn’t…lose you too.” He admits with a weak tone. 

If anything, at least you knew he was genuine about the entire thing; you truly had never seen such a vulnerable state out of Joel before. It was evident that the years had changed him; and you. 

“So you just left?” You ask with that wobble to your lip, tears still streaming down your face. 

Joel frowns, swallowing a lump in his throat, as his thumb moves to brush along the trails of tears left behind on your pretty face. “Yeah, I left. It was wrong. And I’m…a fuckin’ coward for it but I was fallin’ for ya, too hard and too fast and it scared me.” 

You want to say something, to stop him from speaking, but all you can manage is a whine followed by a sniffle. With the back of your free hand, you wipe across one of your tear filled eyes, trying to return to your previous cold-like state. 

But before you can, Joel with his other hand, catches your own in a firm grasp. His fingers press gently into the cup of your palm, smoothing along your soft skin while butterflies dance in your stomach. He brings the back of your hand up to the curl of his lips, placing a gentle but forgiving kiss against your skin. You watch his eyes fall close for just a split second, as if he’s gathering the strength to continue. “You may never be able to forgive me for that and…and…I’m so sorry.” He mumbles apologetically. He was never able to find the right words so all he could muster was to apologize. And he would, until his very last breath. 

Now you really can’t find the words to respond to him. Cotton in your mouth, choking you, keeping you from further speaking your mind. 

He takes your silence as an answer though. 

He coughs slightly, clearing away the pain that lingers in his own chest. “I’ll leave and this time…uh, I’ll stay gone.” Joel finally says, promising to never return. Didn’t want to hurt you more than he already has. 

And yet, he lingers letting go of you. His warm hand catches one more tear from your reddening eyes before he slowly begins to slip his hand from your face. Sculpting you— as if he wanted his hands and his heart to never forget you, if this was to be the last time he ever saw you. So when his hands finally fall away, untangling entirely from you, it feels like the weight of the world slams into your chest. You watch as he stumbles back to the edge of the tub, fishing after his stained jeans. 

Time slows as your gaze follows him. You watch him move sluggishly towards his clothes littering your bathroom floor. You imagine him leaving, for good, this time, limping his way back to his little corner of Jackson, leaving you, avoiding you for the rest of your numbered days, never to see each other again…and that thought hurts more than anything.

You were not losing him a second time. 

You reach out for him. A firm hand stretches out quickly and you grip around the thick of his bicep; stopping him in his quest for his clothes. Tears spring free once more before you can stop them, and now it’s your turn to caress his confused face. You shake your head and thankfully, without any words, Joel seems to know exactly what you mean. His hand slips over your own, tangling his fingers into yours once more, while his other hand returns to press flush into your back. He moves like a man not wounded as he sweeps you up into him; closer and closer, he needs your body against his far more than he needs anything else. Pain, to be forgotten, as his lips crash into yours. He kisses you, full of longing and passion and need and all sorts of want. As if he had been waiting for ages to get the chance to kiss you once more. 

A sob slips from your lips and into his own but you kiss him back nonetheless. He gently squeezes your hand as you reciprocate his yearning, kissing you deeper and you accept it all. Falling into a perfect rhythm, as if you two had never parted in the first place. Twisting and turning, stitched together, made to fit perfectly for each other. 

You’d never admit how many nights you had lied awake, hoping for another moment like this with him. Never once had you sought out someone to fill the hole he had left. There was never going to be anyone else— it was always going to be him, and deep down you knew that from the moment you two had met. 

You’re the first to break from the kiss. Sucking in a sharp breath, tilting your head down and away from him for the moment. A laugh bubbles in your throat but it never comes out, so Joel oddly laughs for the both of you. 

“I don’t deserve this.” He admits, shaking his head in disbelief. As if he truly cannot grasp that whatever this was, that it was happening. 

“Maybe so,” You respond, finally clearing your throat of every obstacle from before. “You’ll just have to do a really damn good job of making it up to me.”

“I’d…like that. To make it up to ya.” He echoes your request, brushing his thumb once more across the high of your cheekbone, collecting any tears that he possibly could. His gaze is softer than you had ever seen it before; even when it had just been the two of you, surviving in Boston. Regret, sorrow, and love in those damned hazel eyes of his as he looks so sweetly at you. “I wrote…letters. Tried to, anyway, was just never good at words.” Joel chuckles, restating at how bad he truly was with words…and his feelings. That much was obvious, again.

This time, you finally manage to laugh along with him. “Mhm, tomorrow, I’d really like to read them.”

[cruel-hiraeth]

꒰ DEVOTION ꒱ OKKOTSU YUUTA X READER

cw: mdni. yandere yuuta. alcohol mention. implied drugging. implied noncon. a/n: a quick elaboration of this thought (yuuta is the king of gaslighting).

There’s a hickey on your inner thigh.

It’s a conclusion you arrived at as you pulled on a pair of fresh underwear this morning; there’s no other way to explain the amaranthine bloom on the supple (and otherwise unmarred) flesh. The spot is tender to the touch—its sensitivity proof that it’s indeed fresh.

Yuuta listens thoughtfully when you bring up the suspicious mark, nodding periodically as you walk him through your concerns.

Rubbing your temples, you sigh. “I’m just confused, Yuu, because we didn’t fuck last night.”

“We didn’t make love, no. We both had a bit to drink and fell asleep before anything could happen.”

“So—” you point to the mottled skin “—what’s this?”

He leans closer to inspect the mark. Jet strands fall across his vision, and he pushes his hair back when he sits up. “Honestly? It looks like a bruise to me.”

“But my bruises are never this color,” you frown.

“A bug bite, maybe?”

You shake your head. “My skin isn’t raised and it doesn’t itch.”

After a few beats of silence, you clear your throat. “Yuuta. You didn’t, um…” Your eyes flit your boyfriend’s, and you get lost in the serenity of his gaze—the slow swell of the sea on a hazy day. He looks at you sincerely, without any judgement or frustration; you can’t bring yourself to finish the question.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be accusatory; I’m just at a loss.”

He smiles softly with a tilt of his head (it’s your favorite expression of his—one that’s etched into your memory). He spreads a palm across your thigh, his thumb gently stroking the spot in question. “I want you to feel comfortable saying anything you want to me. I’m your safe space.”

Your heart swells at his words. He’s too good for you, truly.

He continues, “Maybe it’s just a fluke. As long as it heals, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

You nod. “I’m not sure why I was so worked up. It seems silly, now. Thank you, Yuu.”

Yuuta wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace; you bury your face into his chest with a contented sigh. He rubs your back, trying not to think back to last night, willing his cock to behave. But he can’t stop replaying the highlights in his mind: the little pill he slipped you when you weren’t looking, your precious snores as he spread you out on the bed, and your angelic expression as he had his way with you, leaving a surprise on your thigh—

A mark of his devotion.

[yakool-foolio]

Everyone's talking about That Image because of its, well, everything. But let's be real if we get scenes of Eito n Takumi cuddling or kissing or any multitude of soft, gentle gestures of affection I think I will actually melt into the floor as a happy sobbing mess.

[miamc]

byler rant incoming sorry guys.

“mike isn’t good enough for will”. will said that mike makes him feel like he’s not a mistake. those are literally words from his mouth. like do you understand how serious that is. despite everything, mike still makes will feel like he isn’t a mistake, like he’s better for being different. his words, not mine. i mean for someone to make a closeted gay kid in the 1980s feel that way? accepted? that’s a huge deal.

okay first of all will loves mike so much. like. he loves him so much that he’s willing to sacrifice his own happiness if it means that mike will be happy. like this kid is 14. i would expect him to be a little selfish. he has a crush on his best friend who is dating someone else. it would be normal if he was jealous or harboured some kind of resentment towards el. but he doesn’t. or at least he cares too much about mike and el to allow those feelings to grow. will doesn’t just have a crush on mike, he’s in love with him. his life is so strong that. he just doesn’t have it in him to be selfish. that’s just not who he is.

i don’t think enough of you guys realize that most people, especially most kids, wouldn’t have done that. think about it from his perspective. a literal monster kidnaps him and takes him to another dimension and when he comes back his best friend, who he’s in love with, keeps on talking about a girl he’s never met who apparently saved his life. and then a year later she’s back and will doesn’t really know what to do about that. she’s back and she likes mike and mike likes her. and then mike and her start dating and his best friend of 8 years starts ignoring him. he literally had a year of things going “back to normal” and even then he had severe ptsd from the upside down. like just because he was safe, doesn’t mean he was happy. oh and he also got possessed let’s not forget about that. and then after everything he had to move to california with el. she’s just a part of his family now and she’s still dating mike. like that would be so confusing honestly. not that el did anything wrong but the whole situation is just bizarre. will’s entire life changed after he went missing. and now he has to leave his friends and the girl that saved his life and is dating mike is his new sister?

it’s just weird like. will loves mike so selflessly and purely. even when mike acts like an asshole will loves him. the show hasn’t shown that el loves mike like that. in fact, they’ve shown the opposite. after their “break up”, which was completely comical and honestly liberating for el, she was laughing with max and looking at cute boys. i’m not faulting her for that but she just doesn’t love mike in the same way that will loves him. the show wants us to know this.

so… why? even though mike and el are basically the main couple of the show, the duffers want us to know that el doesn’t love mike nearly as much as will does? why would they want to end the show like that?? like do i even have to explain any further??? like hey yeah mike and el are together but did you know that will loves mike way more than el does? yeah we just randomly added that to the story. no it doesn’t really have any lasting impact on anything. yeah we’re ending the series like that actually. like?? really guys. is that plausible?

does el even know what mike likes to do and vice versa? have they ever hung out with each other and i don’t know, watched a movie? or played a game? they literally just made out and could barely hold a conversations with each other a few months later in lenora. it’s easy to forget that mike and el weren’t actually together for that long. they never really even had time to get to know each other. yes they’ve bonded because of the events of the show and they care about each other a lot. but that doesn’t mean they should date and it certainly doesn’t mean they’re in love with each other. but you know, she’s a girl and he’s a boy. everybody would think it was weird if they didn’t date. so they do. rewatch the first season. rewatch their first kiss. you can’t even call it romantic. they’re both little kids and el didn’t even know what a kiss was. like it’s just so crazy this shit is undeniable honestly. the show literally tells us all of this. and yet some people can’t accept that byler is at the very least a possibility?? and i’m not even mentioning the mountain of byler evidence. like i’m just examining the show at surface level… whatever

[morgaseus]

Sunday has you wrapped around his finger.

You love the man too much to even second guess him. Yet it is not him that you swore your oath to but to the family and the harmony. To harbor something other than disgust to a traitor, a follower of the Order at that, is tantamount to a sin, borderline blasphemous. He's always been virtuous, dedicated in upholding his duties for the family and the whole of penacony. You feel a dull aching emanating from the cavity of your chest; You'd never guessed he was the traitor all along. 

When you caught him in the middle of escaping from his cell, along with the wine purple haired woman- Kafka, a stellaron hunter, you surmised, you've seen her posters plastered in walls enough for you to recognize her anywhere. They’re recruiting him, you think. They're taking him away. Your mind tells you to uphold your duties as a member of the family. He’s a traitor to the family- to the harmony. He tried to usurped Lord Xipe! Your heart (aches to see him go, to leave you) tells you to let him go. To let him live, to experience everything for himself. 

You've always been the family's dog, always following their orders as if you were merely born for them and not for yourself. But this time, you decided to choose for yourself.

You let the halovian go. You clenched your hand, crescent shapes left at its wake. You don’t want him to leave, you never want him to leave because that would mean you would no longer see him. But if he were to stay here.. If he were to stay here, the family will capture him, hand him over to the IPC for trial (he will most likely be found guilty), imprison him until he rots in prison, until he serves his sentence. You don’t want that, you will never want that for him. Sunday has been nothing but kind to you. He treats you as if you were the most precious and fragile thing in the whole asdana system. He makes you feel, wanted, needed, loved. Even if you think his words were lies. So, you think, that is the best possible outcome.

He lived his whole life believing the sickly sweet poison instilled to him by the dreammaster (You’ve always thought there was something wrong with Mr. Gopher Wood). Nobody really sees how his left hand, that he always keeps at his back, would clench his right arm. Nobody sees how many nights he had to stay up, worrying, wondering, who could've killed his sister, why they killed her. Nobody- nobody sees his struggles. All they know is that he's sunday- the perfect, meticulous oak family leader. Sunday the traitor. Sunday the order’s remnant. He needs this. He needs another chance. So, you decided to let him go. Maybe then, he would learn to live for his sake. 

[quinn-pop]

let’s do some autistic meta knight headcanons!! over explaining my interpretation of meta knight yet again wooooo

this orb has NO idea how to talk to people!!! outside of work anyway. a lot of this is partially due to upbringing (suppressing his emotions all the time) but he does not know how to express emotions, like…at all.

this goes into a few things

1. yeah talking is hard. even after figuring out what he wants to communicate he will struggle. conversation can be so overwhelming, especially under pressure. he will need time lol

2. because of that, forming connections is hard. i really don’t think meta is much for shallow relationships, and certainly not early in the timeline. which also means he has very little experience with friendship. so a lot of the relationships he did have went kinda neglected, and issues that probably could’ve been worked on by talking became…*cough romk* escalated.

3. honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if meta convinced himself he couldn’t feel emotion (anymore) until like. katam-ish. he tried very hard lol

vulnerability is terrifying. (though this gesture here is also just comforting, like his little cape cocoon thing he does.)

unmasking—yeah im taking the mask thing very literally here—is a big deal and a very slow process for mk. i’m sure he has a lot of feelings on that lol. it served as a way to ensure no one could ever, y’know, see him.

i can’t say i think he’d ever fully ditch it—there’s always gonna be some days that are more stressful than others and if having it could help him get through it, it just makes sense. mainly when working.

it really is about vulnerability. granted, i don’t think he has the most expressive face (in my head every astral just tends to stare at things) but i doubt he has much control over it. can’t fake a smile but also can’t hide it. probably blushes easy because yeah, astrals; just look at kirby’s face.

just the idea that someone might be able to read his expression and know what he’s feeling before he’s ready for them to (or even understands it himself…) yeah he doesn’t want that

but emotional turmoil aside, i think his mask also hides a lot of his stims

remember that whole “suppressing your feelings” thing? yeah turns out that ignoring half your instincts isn’t a good idea. so in true meta knight style, he tries to stim as subtly as possible

1. he has the least control over his wings, so they will flick and twitch on their own. they’re usually a good indicator of how he’s feeling, not unlike the body language usually seen in cat ears and tails lol. flapping is also an extension of this of course, though he probably suppresses it more.

2. this also effects when he takes his wings out. pretty much every time he’s excited or nervous it just happens. kinda makes me wonder if his wing cape ordeal might also go into the suppression thing… (i’d say yes, but using a cape is also very comforting so it’s not necessarily a bad thing)

3. going back to the mask thing; he stims a lot underneath it. think like biting or pursing your lips. he bites his tongue and clicks his mouth. that sort of thing. his mask also makes it harder to notice that he is constantly sighing, humming, grumbling…all that

one nice thing about the mask though is that it helps a little bit with lights!!! woo

(look at him and his magically floating glasses)

sensory stuff—i think he’s mostly bothered by light and sound. maybe a bit of texture. he’s pretty sensory avoidant and perfectly happy standing off to the side not touching anything.

the one exception to this is physical affection, which is, despite all of this, most of how he shows affection. it’s a lot easier to hug someone than to try to explain your feelings for them, after all.

i think he would like pressure though. so that’s probably part of it. and i’m pretty sure there’s some connection in here to fighting (dang, is that the only way he knows how to get his energy out?)

anyway, pretty much all of this is in contrast to kirby, who i would gladly nominate as the champion of Doing Whatever He Wants. he might pick up a few bad habits, but he will never mask the way meta knight does. he might not understand how he feels, but he’s in tune enough to express it…usually.

this is a very good thing for meta because it helps him to do the same thing. kirby’s so energetic, it’s hard to not want to stim with him. it reminds meta to be kinder to himself and explore his own emotions. he can also help kirby understand themselves, so this connection is very important.

yeah, at the end of the day, everything kinda just boils down to kirby and mk as parallels

this is the conclusion i promise

to me, meta’s arc is about growing stronger by growing kinder, and this is mostly by learning to be kind to himself. letting himself be a person again, loving and understanding other people, and eventually, letting go of all the expectations placed on him and doing the things he’s always wanted to do…

autism headcanons are fun for me because it’s cathartic to write, but at the same time, it just makes sense in this sort of narrative. meta is, to me, inseparable from these things. and so is kirby! that’s a dynamic that’s a lot of fun to play with, and it’s at the heart of my kirby interpretation.

if you actually read all this WOW thank you

[athousandbyeol]

honesty.

i think the central theme of this week's episode is honesty.

faifa was honest about his sadness.

faifa didn't try to conceal it. his sadness was out in the open.

and wine saw it. he saw everything.

everyone knew but him. again. how could they? how could she?

"let's hug."

physical touch; i believe this is one of wine's love languages. and I believe this is something faifa truly treasures. an existing comfort wrapping him in a tight hug after another tiring day of enduring.

"i don't like when mom goes there. it makes me feel like when she brought me back here. like I'm being abandoned over and over."

faifa was afraid of that loneliness. he was fearful of that haunting feeling, that reality of his mother choosing everything but him—to leave him behind when she moved on and found her happiness.

"but everything's getting better. because you're always here to hug me."

faifa knew that wine would be there to embrace him—his happiness, sadness, all of him. faifa knew wine would be there. he wouldn't disappear.

and that was faifa being as honest as he could with wine in this moment of susceptibility—by saying that wine would stay.

"have you ever thought about how to move past these feelings?" "never."

and it's okay. it's okay to still be in this state of frustration and confusion and tiredness and hopelessness. it's okay to feel. because now, faifa wouldn't experience this alone—wine would be here. wine would shoulder those feelings when they overwhelmed him. wine would hug him tight and whisper those sweet words; all those nothings and everything.

because this sadness was no longer consuming—this sadness was no longer lonely.

faifa was honest with his disappointment.

maybe faifa didn't want to believe it. maybe he wanted to be ensured that he and wine were always on the same page. but how could he not have these thoughts when he knew how much p'tor had affected wine? how could he not be disappointed—when there was still a possibility that wine might not reciprocate his feelings?

because faifa was so used to giving and not receiving—he should've known better.

"i need to get ready for my performance." "do you want me to come with you?" "no, it's fine." "stay with your friends."

perhaps faifa didn't want wine to stay with toey and p'tor. perhaps he wanted wine to follow him. but faifa was never selfish. and faifa was never someone who would fight a losing battle. so he left. he left his love on the table—he left wine with someone who might take wine away from his life forever.

and he was alone again. he was isolated from the world again.

because this was where he believed he should belong—to nobody.

wine was honest with his fear.

the thought of losing faifa was terrifying.

to lose someone who made him realise that it was okay to be himself—it was okay to be into men—it was okay to take things slow and go with the flow—it was okay to move on from the past because the present was so beautiful and real and comforting and assuring and faifa.

it was lost chances and perished hopes and memories becoming too pretty to forget but too painful to remember. it was wine thinking tomorrow would never be the same because faifa wouldn't be there by his side—faifa wouldn't look at him with those eyes—faifa wouldn't exist in wine's life anymore because that was who faifa was—he was the air that wine breathe; invincible but felt. borrowed, never his.

and wine believed he was too late. and wine believed he was never honest.

"what's wrong?" "i'm just scared. scared that if you and tor reconnect, everything would be just a dream. scared that I'm actually not the one for you."

because faifa was never someone's first—he was never anyone's priority.

but wine showed him that he was. wine showed him that he was his only. so how could he not be scared of this possibility—of losing wine when he had become faifa's everything?

but faifa was. faifa was wine's only one.

"i hate that notebook. i hate counting down how many times we've done things together. i hate counting down for our story to slowly end. i leave it in my room on purpose. i keep it in a box on purpose so I can't see it. because you said it won't count if I didn't bring it. i don't want to have a meal with you just 10 times. i don't want—"

because wanting felt too much for wine and faifa to bear—wanting so much for something so little, this fragile thread connecting their hearts—no labels or names—felt too much for two people who had never wanted this openly—this honestly.

faifa and wine were honest about love.

"i get it now." "i'm sorry i didn't tell you honestly that I agreed to try your flirting tips not because I wanted to win someone else's heart, but because I wanted to be near you, phi faifa."

we love each other so much, don't we?

yes. more than anything in this world.

"i never understood why people fall in love until it happened to me. now I realise how much happiness it brings." "phi faifa..." "are you ready to have a meal with me a thousand times more, let me give you a ride everywhere in the world, and go running with me at the park for the rest of our lives?"

to have a future together, neither faifa nor wine has ever envisioned it to be this sweet. this fulfilling. this comforting. this healing. this beautiful.

"let's be a couple?" "let's be a couple."

i do.

i do.

and this was faifa and wine being honest with each other.

[simcardiac-arrested]

never volunteer for anything university related man. also go listen to this

[rosescarletful]

Written for For @divinit3a Café Lunch Rush prompt list. All great inspiration, I had a blast writing this! Take this *throws Eclipse at you.

Drabble name: Tireless Work Brings May Flowers

Contents: Canon Eclipse x Reader, yn is a mechanic, post fire au.

Chosen words: Clouds, honeydew, bonfire, hope, celebration.

Word Count: 2185

Day fifteen. You wipe the grease from your brow and exhale, turning screws back into place. This isn’t the first time you have had to fix this circuit, nor will it be the last, but you persevere this way regardless. 

You plug in the animatronic to your wall, press a switch in his open chest, and wait, leaning over his face plate to hold him.

“Hi sweetie.” You coo to him. His optics are black, and you do not know if he hears you, but you will talk to him this way regardless, just like you did back then. You’re not sure who it is, really, Sun or Moon. They merge perfectly in this form, his hat you stitched up piece by piece dangling over the table and his rays carefully mended.

“I fixed one of your core wires. It blew out again - this should be a better piece now.” You lament your limited access to good parts, but if Faz caught wind that you stole one of their own, they would probably hunt you down real quick. You would never see him again, and that's not something you can bear. The fire already made your heart break and weep enough.

You found him lying there, smoking from the bonfire. He was posed reaching for the entrance, clothes almost entirely burnt off. You wept and gathered him up, pressing apologies upon apologies into his metal. How scared they must have been, under the pressure of the burning heat.

You trace a finger on a ray, pushing it gently to rotate. You miss when Sun span his rays when he saw you, making wave patterns to make you laugh. “Should be any day now.” You comment, trying to hold it together as he fails to boot up again. Something sparks down by his leg, and you take a deep breath. 

It's alright, the world is not ending. Something is preventing them from booting up, and you just need to figure out why. 

Day twenty eight. You know you are getting closer because they do not spark anymore, at least. So far, he gets to his optic lights flickering, then powers off again, so you are so close you can taste it. 

“It's a beautiful day out today.” You hum, opening the blinds. A sunbeam shines on his chassis, you hope he can feel some of the warmth, or at least know the sun is there. “I hope we can have a picnic soon. Remember? I said I'd show you, and Moon pinched my cheek making fun of me. You can’t leave, he said. But I said I'd figure it out.” You type rapidly at your computer, going through his code line by line. The answer to his failed boot up, or at least why the sun does not change their appearance, is in here. You are sure of it.

Day forty five. You rest your head in your hands next to your attendant, taking slow, deep breaths. You will not give up, no matter what, but you feel frustrated close to tears. Fixing the code isn’t working, and there’s nothing theoretically wrong with their body, yet they won’t wake up. 

You pick your head up and rest it in your hands, just staring at him. “I won’t stop.” You mutter. He has to know you aren’t letting this setback stop you. What if they are listening in there? Stuck? It would be a living hell to you, so you refuse to leave them in any capacity. 

You stand, stretching and cracking your spine. You can, although the memory is getting a little hazy, remember Sun reprimanding you about your posture, so you straighten up.

No, don’t think like that. He will wake up. You are a decent mechanic and you will get to see them again. There is no other outcome.

You wonder what they think of you, working tirelessly. You harbor your silly feelings in yourself, too afraid to say anything. 

Day fifty arrives with little fanfare. You are a little worse for wear, eye bags heavy from long nights and constant work. You have him sitting up, trying something new with the cables on the back of his head. You are petrified to touch his motherboard, but as the weeks dragged on, you are running out of options. 

“You know, soon, I can get some boots for you so you can stomp in puddles. I think both of you would like that.” The rain beats heavy against the window, muffling the world outside. You would give anything to sit with either of them on your porch, just watching the storm. “Maybe a poncho. Do they make ponchos nine feet tall?” You snort at your own joke, carefully soldering the pins connecting the wires. 

Once done, you lay him back down, and plug him into the wall. Again, you press the button, leaning over his face plate once more. “Okay. Give me something sweetie. Anything.” You stare at him intently, eyes flicking over his body rapidly. Like always, his fingers twitch, core beginning to boot up. His optics turn on, flickering, but then the whole body shuts off right after.

You curl your fingers. You’ve increased the electric output way more than what should be necessary, so why is this happening? 

You go back over to the plug, inspecting it. The storm booms horribly outside, but you pay no mind to it. 

Is it your electric output? You think you would cry for a whole day if this all amounted to not enough power. But, you have checked this outlet countless times, even got a power maximized for it. Nothing. 

Lighting strikes close. “Don’t worry.” You say out loud. You would be worried if you had never heard a storm before, too. “It will pass. I'm gonna try the startup sequence one more time, okay?” You take a breath, and plug it back in.

You are thrown back, shouting in pain. Electricity shoots up your arm, and you shake, almost biting your tongue. “What the hell!” You shout, shaking your head. 

No. Your heart stops for a second, because that was plugged into your friend!

You scrabble to your feet, choking. This can’t be it. All your hard work can’t end here. Oh god the hard drive could be fried! You could have a smoking motherboard, never to see them again! You watch in horror as he spasms, electricity coursing through the body.

You lean over him, assessing any damage. His internals look okay, and you don’t smell smoke. Instead, you watch with fear turned rapidly building hope as his optics turn online, electricity turning the gears in his internals. 

You hold your breath, praying to anything that could be listening. “Sun? Moon?” You call, shaking with adrenaline. Anything, please. Just let him wake up.

Slowly, pinpricks turn on, and he blinks one. You almost start sobbing.

Abruptly, he sits up, rays popping in and out of his face plate. “Happy birthday!” He cheers, in a voice that does not sound like either of your friends. Your watery smile falters. Who…is this?

“Happy..birthday?” You echo, unsure. He seems to light up brightly, swinging his feet to the side. At least mobility is okay. You are so shocked, you aren’t sure how to react. 

He calls your name, startling you out of your thoughts. “Still us.” One voice, low and soothing. “Still us!” Another cheer, light and airy. 

You can’t help it, you break down in sobs right there. You throw your arms around his neck, shaking and trembling. “Oh, thank god. You’re here, you’re alive, you…merged?” You ask. He wraps arms around you, and you could cry from how gently he holds you. You thought that this form was some kind of safety protocol, when the day and night cycles got messed up. Apparently not.

“Yes! My name is Eclipse.” His tone is cheerful and bright, yet warm and slow with an even cadence. He really is both of your friends. “Don’t cry, starshine! We’re back in tip top shape, thanks to you!” You press your wobbly lips together, overjoyed. 

He lifts a hand, holding your cheek. You pick up your head to face him, ugly crying as you are. He holds you everywhere, touching your sides, your hair, your legs. Like he is memorizing you.

“We’re so happy it was you fixing us. You’re perfect, just perfect.” He hums, rubbing thumbs on your face. This new version of your friends is very…affectionate! “Ah, we could hear you, as well. Everything.” He says dreamily. Your face flushes, but you are so glad you assumed that they could. “Even the anime updates.” A deeper voice grouses. You choke out a laugh, bubbling up from deep within your chest. He stares at you intently, optics flicking over your face.

“Let's do that right now.” He says abruptly. You tilt your head. “Sit in the storm. That sounds like a lovely idea! We can watch the ever moving blanket of clouds, with our favorite mechanic!” Arms reach out to hoist you up, and you squeak, patting his chest to stop.

“Wait! Wait! You need to go through diagnostics first! Hold on!

Your life changes like the flip of a card, with Eclipse. He is so happy to do anything with you, whether that be finally showing your friends anime, cooking, or just sitting next to you, buzzing in a way that can only be considered purring. 

You were a little worried that your friends would fade away, merged like this, but that could not be farther from the case. Your morning walks are exclusively with Sun, his higher pitched voice and straight posture show his control. The rays shrink almost into his head with Moon, who fights you in video games and hums to you sometimes, when he thinks you are asleep.

Eclipse however, is very…hands on. You have a very hard time saying no, those feelings you shoved deep inside of you overjoyed at getting to touch freely. You can’t break this easy camaraderie that the two of you have, but lately you can’t stop thinking about kissing his silly face. What would it be like? Would they take turns, or just kiss you as Eclipse? You wouldn’t mind either way.

When he is stable enough, and you are sure he isn’t going to keel over outside, you take your friend on that promised picnic. You bring food for yourself, some tools just in case, and a fluffy blanket. 

The day is crisp and shining, Eclipse watching in fascination as his steps sink into the ground. His gaze darts around, taking in the birds, trees, and a deer running off in the distance. Your heart swells, feeling like you won the lottery as his rays sink into his face plate to spin rapidly. “Up that hill.” You direct, carrying your things up with you.

You two sit under a tree, enjoying the sunshine. He points out every day things to you, like a squirrel staring at him intently, like the cloud formed in the shape of a fish. A smile is stuck to your face, nodding along. You celebrate every new instance, overjoyed.

“Toldja.” You remark, gesturing to your set up. “I promised. This is a good old fashioned picnic!” He scoots closer to you, picking you up bodily and placing you in his lap, hugging you. Jeez! He doesn’t have the same boundaries as a human, but give a person a warning!

“Eclipse!” You shout, squirming in his lap. He rumbles in his voice box, pulling you to his chest, resting his face plate on your shoulder. “That's better..” He gives you a squeeze, fans whirring in his chest. 

“Actually..” Sun’s voice cuts in. “It's missing one key part.” You turn, trying to see what he’s talking about. Instead, he presents a flower to you, a tulip in fresh bloom. “For you.” Moon’s voice rasps, and presses it into your hair, over your ear. You touch it, in wonder. 

“Thank you, that's so sweet of you.” You get your knees under you and turn, greeted by a tender look on Eclipse’s face plate.

“This is a new emotion for us.” Eclipse starts. You blink. “But what we do know is that we would have no other. You are precious to us, honeydew, and we hope you feel the same.” Your face turns red as a tomato, sputtering. He leans closer. “Would you be ours?” The voices break Eclipse’s steady cadence, both of them speaking at once. 

“Do you…do you know what you’re asking? To be together, that's more than just friends.” It's okay if they don't understand. You are content to be this way - 

“Yes.” They answer firmly. “We know what being partners is. We want that. We want everything with you, whatever you will give us. Your hopes, your fears, love, as well.” Your lip wobbles. This is something you could only dream of, working on them tirelessly.

Shakily you nod. “Yes. Yes, please. Yes.” He pulls you in for a kiss, fans so loud you can hear his chest rumbling.

You share a kiss that is all encompassing, pressing your hands to his chest.

A new beginning, a new love.

Fin.

[hiddenlxtus]

we love gaalee family!! They’re so underrated and the best

YOU'RE SO RIGHT (I've read all the gaalee fics that explicitly include shinki and metal,, if I could write I'd make more !!)

transcription under read more!

METAL PAGE

gaara

-> eyes -> hair -> sand

lee

-> eye color -> hair color -> chakra :( -> YOUTH!! -> eyebrows

he needs MORE training to make up for chakra loss

has trained taijutsu more because he spends more time with lee & gai

kakashi occasionally trains his ninjutsu

gai gives him turtle summon

his left handed-ness gives him a slight advantage like in tennis!

in the beginning, Gaara was against metal learning the eight gates, but realizes that it's a way for lee to pass down something, so he allows it under the same restrictions as lee

metal & araya are friends

unless they KNOW or people look too closely, they can't piece together metal's dad, but once you realize, you can really see it

people who know: - temari & kankuro - naruto, boruto, & fam - shikamaru, shikadai - araya & yodo

it's not a secret per se, people just don't mention it

"who's your mom" "I have a dad!" (oh no,, prolly lost during war) "oh! ok!"

SHINKI PAGE

older than metal by 10 months

trains under gaara & kankuro, more proficient at sand

first doesn't believe in Konoha, but changes his mind when he meets Lee

when he was adopted, metal was still a baby baby and they didn't meet until shinki could control the iron sand

Lee couldn't meet him until he could get time off & find a babysitter for metal

Tenten & Gai took turns

Lee was able to subdue him (he's not good with new people) and Lee didn't use ninjutsu so shinki was impressed tm

He doesn't show it, but he looks up to Lee as well, though he doesn't like "youth"

once he controls it to a degree, Gaara allows him to see his brother (they're 5 now)

He brings shinki to Konoha to meet metal, and shinki ends up being jealous of him, but he controls the iron sand

Gaara tells him he's proud of him and shinki gets less jealous

they're good brothers trust

is really comfortable around his family, but is scared he'll hurt metal

Lee loves him :3 liddol bro

people think he looks more like gaara than metal

it's because they have the same attitude

but once you take away the hair and sand he doesn't really look similar

[clowningaroundmars]

punkflower hcs bc i need to see more of them being cute teen boys together.... like, playful and creative and stuff

looong long wall of text under the cut (no nsfw)

♡ miles and hobie definitely exchange art often, even collabing on some punk zines and graffiti pieces occasionally. hobie also makes mixtapes on cassettes and slaps a million stickers on them just for his bf. miles appreciates the kind gesture but reminds hobie that he doesnt have a cassette player. "yet," hobie tells him with a wink :)

♡ miles draws a million little doodles for hobie on scrap paper, post it notes, hobie's gear, hobie himself. ofc hobie loves them all, esp when he gets to go home with his arms and chest covered in stars, cartoons, graffiti, and hearts

♡ miles is a lot more shy about dancing in public than hobie is, but whenever they manage to have any downtime at all hobie will wrap his arms around miles and sway them around. if music is playing anywhere, hobie will bop to it and get miles to join in

♡ hobie's love language? touch. any kind, anytime, anywhere, for any reason. words of affirmation come next

♡ miles' love language? quality time, and he's big on kissing. hobie isnt much of a kisser but loves his sunflower just the same, and does not complain at all when miles places little kisses on his hands, ears or his back

♡ sometimes hobie will be a lil mean to miles just as a flirty thing. just usual teenage boy stuff like kicking miles' sneakers, manspreading to get into his space if they're sitting anywhere together, using his height to bully miles into a corner away from everyone so they can flirt some more, crashing into miles on purpose just to be annoying

♡ anytime they get to go on multiverse missions together they somehow manage to get into the craziest shenanigans. breaking into a zoo to stop a villain from mutating the animals, saving a group of schoolkids on a field trip from a killer robot (?), one time hobie even drove a runaway car to stop it from crashing right into jamaica bay and miles was scarred for life

hobie tries to control the car as he haphazardly swerves it around pedestrians and barely manages to miss a group of elderly people.

miles clings onto his seat for dear life. "HOBIE!! you're gonna kill us man, where'd you get your license from!?" he yells.

hobie scoffs. "license?! i said i could drive, mate, i aint mention nuthin' 'bout no license!"

♡ hobie's universe is set in the 1970's and living in a dystopian police-state means it's too risky to bring back a phone with him, so he's often left out of spiderkid groupchats. miles still tries to keep him up to date on the latest memes and inside jokes though. they also have their own inside jokes too

♡ hobie wouldn't bring a smartphone with him anyways since he's so mistrusting of tech in general. video games, laptops, and "smart" tech mystify him, and smart watches? forget about it. when miles gets one for christmas one time, hobie clowned on his bf so hard the watch was never seen again

♡ that being said, they love exchanging music often so the only piece of technology hobie ever brings back to his dimension is an ancient half-busted ipod (it was probably rio's at one point) filled with music miles managed to download for him that week. spiderman-ing and living as a homeless teen means hobie doesn't get much time to explore genres outside of the UK punk scene and listening to brand new genres is often a trip! hobie finds out he loves drum n bass, grindcore, industrial techno, UK drill, deep house and 90's hip hop

♡ hobie gets miles to make him cool posters for whatever venue he plans on (or doesnt plan lbr) playing at every now and then

♡ rio LOVES hobie. hobie is the perfect gentleman (gentlespider?) around her and often tries to help her around the house when he can. miles... does not enjoy how much his mom favors his partner. jeff is also not so crazy about this smart-mouthed punk

♡ miles and hobie absolutely swap clothing as often as possible, with hobie "borrowing" miles' clothes more often. miles' parents keep commenting on how much of a rockero he looks with all the punk stuff and hobie never returns clothes without having altered them in some way (pins n bits everywhere, a mysterious rip or two here n there, pinned-up sleeves, etc)

♡ miles is absolutely horrible at cooking and feels left out when he sees hobie helping his mom in the kitchen. he desperately tries to learn, but it's a wonder how he hasnt sliced his fingers off yet trying to peel and cut platanos so they can make tostones

♡ for a person who's built like a lamppost, hobie is shockingly graceful with his movements. he always slips around a room like a cat and miles is so jealous of that. long gangly limbs should be a deterrent from moving like That and yet here he is, practically pirouetting around miles for fun

♡ which is a total TRIP when they go out swinging around a city. once the mask is on, every movement hobie makes is chaotic, frantic and unpredictable. spiderpunk and hobie are very different people sometimes

♡ rio often points out hobie's thinness as a typical hispanic mom does ("jóven, pero tu 'ta tan flaco, hobie honey come eat! i have leftovers here!") and miles also agrees that hobie could eat a lil more too. he is always sneaking bits of food into hobie's pockets or bags, saving fries and last slices for his partner. sometimes hobie brings home armfuls of tupperware filled with caribbean food back to his boat

♡ in return, hobie is like a magpie and brings back shiny gifts for them, some handmade stuff too. miles' drawers and nightstand are filled with jewelry, bottles, knickknacks, and other handmade accessories. his walls are filled with collages and zines hobie makes for him and rio bought frames for some of the pieces he makes her

♡ the first person to say "i love you" was miles, but by accident. after realizing it, he was nervous as hell worrying that hobie would clown him to death since he didnt seem like a big romantic. instead, hobie went nuts about it in his own hobie way, writing lyrics about miles' face when he said it, doodling them together more often, teasing miles about it often but lightheartedly. he flaunts miles' love whenever he can

♡ miles has a lethal puppydog face and he KNOWS it! one 🥺 look and hobie immediately folds and gives miles whatever he wants. but not before hemming and hawing about it first, playing up his hesitation just to make miles laugh

♡ speaking of laughter, hobie does Thee Most just to see his bf laugh or smile. he will always goof off in the bg, crack jokes every 2 secs and pretend to get hurt sometimes. hobie is naturally sarcastic and goofs off in general anyways but around miles he dials it up to 200

♡ hobie tries to get miles in on the whole anarchism thing but 1. the texts and manifestos from his dimension are different than miles' and 2. miles is a teen boy. he doesn't know anything about the theory of alienation or effective mutual aid and won't really care at the moment. "mm, you'll learn all 'bout it soon enough, though... eventually," hobie muses

♡ miles is not as big on pet names as hobie is. hobie has like 24984 nicknames for miles but miles mostly sticks to just calling his partner by his name. one day during history class tho a lightbulb moment happens, and when they meet up again miles is excited

"hobie!! guess what, i really got it this time. i have a nickname that i know you're gonna love!"

"spill," hobie says as he throws an arm over miles' shoulders.

"so you always call me sunflower all the time, right? and your name is ho... bee. get it? so i was thinkin' i'm gonna call you 'honey bee' now. y'know, you're not the only one who's got corny ass nicknames! it's good, right?"

hobie has to fight not to grin like a jackass

♡ hobie's sleep schedule is atrocious so whenever miles can manage it, he tries to wrestle his partner into any bed and tucks him in. hobie is touched that his sunflower cares so much about him ♡

♡ miles almost never gets permission to sleep over other friends' houses but on the rare occasions he does, he leaps into portals and goes to visit hobie in his dimension. his fave part of New London is hobie's boat, bc they set up a big hammock for them to lay in, feeling the sway of the boat and letting it lull them to sleep. not to mention that the boat itself is totally badass, and hobie more often than not encourages miles to cover it in graffiti

♡ hobie lowkey (but highkey) loves when miles gets a little bossy, forceful or stern. he loves ribbing miles about it (the "ill do it, but not cuz you told me to" line in mumbattan was a total joke from hobie btw LOL) and saying corny shit in response to a demand, but he loves seeing miles being confident and calling the shots every once in a while. it makes him proud

♡ if they can, miles and hobie try to gather up as much food as they can and take it over to the F.E.A.S.T. that's in hobie's dimension. miles meets hobie's "family" there and gets to know the community, which feels so much more tight-knit and welcoming than Visions. once miles gets over the major jarring differences between his world and hobie's, he finds he LOVES New London

♡ miles and hobie teach each other slang from their countries and time periods, you can't change my mind. miles walks around saying shit like "bloody 'ell" and "septic" all the time. the one time hobie said "deadass" completely unironically, all of the spiderkids DIED laughing

♡ miles learns that EVERY spider is a total dweeb in some way shape or form. even hobie! hobie's awkwardness comes out when theyre in big groups of people. hobie is oddly comfy with performing in front of crowds but when he's invited to parties and tries mingling, it's so... sooo awkward. miles secretly rejoices when he finds out hobie's weakness

♡ i'm an adhd hobie truther and i hc that miles buys hobie the weirdest fidget toys he can get his hands on. along with his switchblade, jewelry, and whatever he stole that day, hobie carries various different fidget toys in his vest to keep boredom at bay

♡ hobie definitely writes songs for miles but takes a very very very long time to actually admit it. miles finally finds out when one of hobie's songwriting notebooks falls open when hanging out in his boat, and hobie comes clean about it. with miles' encouragement tho, hobie makes the decision to add some of those songs into the usual setlist his band performs

♡ if miles ever has time, he tries to attend whatever gig hobie and his band has going on. he loves to see hobie perform on stage, his energy and stage presence is always electrifying

[axeylotl]

if you saw this accidentally get posted for a few seconds earlier no u did not

willry but Henry's dialogue is just copy pasted from some shit I said on discord

and some doodles I meant to post like 2 weeks ago. oops

(and the really long tags I wrote that I just decided to put in the post proper)

I think Henry is abnormal abt machines in a "they are our superiors and we should worship them" way, whereas Will is abnormal abt them in a "they are superior to us so we must control their power" way, yknow?

Also i think Henry has a very complicated relationship with religion due to a very religious and oppressive upbringing and it manifests in the way he thinks about technology and engineering, topics which he would've been obsessed with regardless

[pawseds]

uh oh. tomorrow is sparrow flight day. but this flash fiction. im tempted to draw it as a comic. hm. hmmmmmmmmm... technically sparrow flight day is also sunday. hmmmmmmmmmmmm

[tentenismybitch]

Me a nosey and messy bitch:

Soooooooo, whats the hot take 🧐👀👂

i was gonna be like "come off anon and i'll tell you privately!" but honestly idgaf, this is my blog!!

i've been reading fanfiction since i was 9 years old, and writing it since i was in middle school. in my early teen years i mostly read fanfic for "het" ships (primarily nejiten, sasuino [lol] and shikatema.) as an older teen/adult i've been consuming more gay content. as y'all know i love team gai. my fave ships are kakagai, nejiten, and gaalee, so these are the ships i read the most fic of. and i've gotta say.

IN MY EXPERIENCE!!! fics for gay ships are usually way better written! BY A COUNTRY MILE!!! and idk why it is!! i have found NUMEROUS long + incredibly well-written fics for kakagai and gaalee, less so for nejiten. even searching ao3 and seeing fics for other "het" ships that nejiten is a side pairing of, just on the summaries alone i can tell A LOT of them are not for me....sorry! sorry!

like i don't want to be a mean and messy bitch but alas here we are. sometimes, the plots just aren't giving. like, they're not interesting! but also, i am primarily talking in terms of technical writing craft and skill!! summaries be riddled with grammatical issues and typos*, or don't make sense, or, again, aren't compelling and make me want to read the fic. or the characterization is abysmal! from blatantly out of character actions to, just, like, fundamental misunderstandings of the characters

i just find a lot of nejiten fics that are written exactly in the way that i used to write when i was 14!! and i'm sorry again! that may work for some people but i am a voracious reader and also want to write as my CAREER, so that's just not gonna cut it for me....

of my 3 favorite naruto ships, nejiten is the only one that i've been shipping SINCE the beginning of my days in the naruto fandom (aka when i was 9/10 years old!!) but of my 16 ao3 bookmarks, only 4 of them are nejiten-centric fics–two of them are by the same author (shoutout to @winterberryholly) and 1 of them is a oneshot.

hence the point of my original post. WHERE are the well-written, nejiten-centric fics that are, like, longfic. i've found cute oneshots or shorter fics here and there but it's like damn. what's a bitch gotta do for a 300k slowburn friends to lovers bi4bi ptsd trauma + healing nejiten fic? write it myself?!

TLDR my hot take is that gay ships tend to have much better written fic than "het" ships

[riovidalharkness]

[has generalized anxiety disorder]

[has major fear of eating food that's contaminated]

[finds and app that tells me all the recalls & alerts me to places people have gotten food poisoning]