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stick-ball · 10 months

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pspspspsp Kevin's trauma and his choice to stay with Thea, why her why not someone else? How does it work considering his characters as whole books/ec , does it make sense or just feel "random"

This responce has been sped up by the people who asked Nora on twitter to break Kevin and Thea up, making me see red KillBill style, so:

For me, Kevin's and Thea's relationship makes perfect sense. Maybe it's the realist in me, maybe its the idealist in me, I don't care. When it comes to Kevin's traumas, I think that since most people can't really relate to a majority of them, they get all hung up on the one they most definately can, as in, his mommy issues. When we relate to something, it becomes a really big deal. And here we go! Thea/Kevin suddenly is feared to be toxic instead of being seen for what I think it is: finding love in a hopeless place.

The main issue i see discussed is the disproportion of power at the beginning of the relationship. The main concern is the age difference. I personally don't really get the hate about the age gap between them, because if you read the extra content you will know that while they met when Kevin was 14 and Thea 18, it's not like anything happened between them at that age? First, Kevin saw her as an impressive player, when he did actually see her. That wasn't all that often bcs from what I understand from the EC, Kevin and Riko trained with the Ravens sometimes before they joined the team but a big part of their training happened without them, as well as their life growing up was more detached from the Uni students than people seem to think. And honestly, do you think Tetsuji would just let all the freshmen know they signed into the Yakuza sportsTM? Methinks not, but be delulu if you want I guess. 💋

So anyway, from the EC, it seems like Kevin had a crush slowly build up for Thea over the years, growing from his appreciation of her skill and athletism. Considering how cold that guy is, it probably took him some time to realise, after his irritation at her romances (yeah hello she was dating people her age when Kevin was mooning for here as a pathetic teenage boy, bye bye Thea haters) with other teammates started having nothing to do with the fact it could result in the teams distraction during the game, bcs of their hormones and feelings, and turned to conscious jelousy. And here I have to applaud young Kevin because he did not even realise he was distracted from the game by being jealous. Knowing how oblivious Kevin can be about non exy issues, it likely took quite a while.

So what's next? The "getting together"? Kevin and Thea only started having a sort of physical relationship when Kevin and Riko were already freshmen for Edgar Allan, at 18/19.

Whoever wants to fight me on this being a toxic age gap, what exactly is your angle?

Anyway, Kevin was the one to initiate their relationship, after Riko was done with his distraction from the game and his focus on picking fights with Thea, and told him to sleep with her and get it out of his system. (And that's how i met your mother.) It wasn't much more than that for a long time, because having a relationship on a 12 hrs day/night full of training and uni and juggling two other teams on top of that as well as celebrity status literally sounds like the most insane schedule ever, so it's insane they even managed to talk privately at all.

Now, we circle back to the question, why Thea? Why not someone else? Well, first and fucking foremost, because Nora Sakavic said so. Second of all, because Jung and Freud weren't as stupid as imternet memes would have you believe. (Read their books, read all the books please, i can rec you like a 100 psychology texts, dont be shy)

To keep it short, we do base our attraction on the role models we have, one way or another. I saw enough of my friends pick partners that have the exact character quirks that make them just slightly like an after image of their guardians. Kevin doesn't really have a father model, but his mother? She's always going to be a huge part of his life, is it really so weird and dangerous, that he got infautated with a strong, driven, 4 years older woman, who's incredibly talented and just as determined as him? I don't think so. Is it unhealthy? Is it unsafe? As much as life is, I guess, no one is perfect, but I think he could've done much much worse for himself.

Why did Kevin decide to stay with Thea? I would find it pretty obvious, because she doesn't actually need him. She built herself, but she wants him. Even if she will never have the same fame and recognition in her career that he does. Being wanted this way must be really new for Kevin, who was always a trophy to show off because of his legacy, always a property. But Thea is not competing with him, she doesnt want to own him either. I believe his mother is as much of a role model to her, as to him. So, they have sex, when they want to, they talk - when they feel like it. They don't, well fucking fine, so they don't, they fall in love anyway. It's okay if exy comes first in the beginning, considering both spent a lot of time in cult mentality, I think neither is all that bothered as long as its not obsessive (we could discuss how reasonable it was of Kevin to ghost her for over a year and not tell her about how he broke his hand but thats a whole other essay).

What's really wild to me, is that I think the power imbalance in this relationship is the opposite of what many may think.

Kevin holds all the cards. Thea joined the Ravens as a 18 years old talented athlete, she was one of the only girls on the team, and the Nest was not a place to make friends, on top of that it was a mafia cult. She had everything to prove there, and no way of being prepared for all the grooming. On top of that, she knew nothing of the Moriyamas or even of what actually went down with the whole Perfect Court thing. Kevin knew everything, on top of that, up until he left, he had nothing to prove. He ghosted her, is it so hard to believe she accepted his cold shoulder in this dynamic, in which she obviously is not at the top of the foodchain? He kept secrets from her, is it really so hard to believe she was angry? I think neither of them was ready for neither what life at the nest was like, or for a relationship when it happened, but I also think they are incredibly lucky that they have eachother, their shared passion for exy, their daughter, their dog and friends from the dog park who can't talk about exy to save their lives.

I think Kevin was incredibly lucky for finding Thea, because maybe she did not know everything, maybe it wasn't easy for them, but they understood that Rikos death wasn't a one dimensional victory, that it was just as much of a tragedy for them, for Kevin. I'm happy with the canon and I wish more people appreciated this ship, as its very soothing.

As an ending fun fact, did you know I am the only person to make a playlist for Thea Muldani in all of spotify? Pretty insane if you ask me.

#i hope this is okay #i dont have the brainpower for big words left #but this essay is like a thrid of what i have to say about them xd #i refrained from adding citations to ec bcs this is just a fandom thesis #phenomental #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #kevin day #thea muldani #kevin and thea meta #thea muldani meta #kevin day meta #nora sakavic #best ask ever

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matan4il · 11 months

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Thank you for spreading information and sources! I have seen so much misinformation or straight up propaganda that it seems hard sometimes to determine what is and isn’t true.

Just yesterday, in my high school library, a few people were quite loudly talking about the white phosphorous claim, and were calling Israel a “genocidal settler state”.

I tried to refute them, and the argument got pretty loud, and was attracting others. I wasn’t worried about it getting violent, and I thought that they were obviously just fed misinformation. After all, we’re high schoolers, surely they wouldn’t just choose to hate an ethnic group… right?

And then I clearly heard one of the kids watching say “Fucking kike”.

I honestly didn’t really know what to do, I didn’t know what it meant, but it was clear that it was some kind of derogatory slur.

All this to mean, I am not Jewish, I do not even “look” Jewish, and I was called a slur for simply speaking up against antisemitism. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you and all other Jews and Israelis right now.

Please stay safe, and know that at least some of us support you!

Am Yisrael Chai!

Hi lovely! *hugs* Thank you so much for standing up for Jewish people. Especially when it is difficult and scary. I hope you're okay! And thank you again, SO MUCH, for doing what's right. I am REALLY proud of you, and I hope you're also proud of yourself, because you deserve to be! *sends even more hugs and love*

Since you mentioned the white phosphorus lie, I'm gonna add a vid regarding that for you at the end.

You're right, they have been fed misinformation, and repetitive, false slogans, that invoke righteous rage, and sound righteous when people repeat them, but which have little to do with reality. These young people are literally being indoctrinated to see Israel as the greatest of evils, even while the Iranian and Syrian regimes are butchering their own people, as just random examples of much greater evils that are currently happening in the world, and have been for a long while. Just to get a perspective, here's a graph of the bloodiest conflicts ever:

Notice that it starts at 3 million fatalities. The Israeli-Arab conflict, with all of the buzz around it, isn't even on here. Why? Because the number of fatalities altogether, counting Israelis, pre-state Jews, Palestinians and non-Palestinian Arabs, is just a little under 120,000 people. Another example of the disproportion between how many people died in this conflict, and how much attention it gets (making it seem as being far worse than it is) can be seen in this map:

So as I hope you can see, you're looking at the ratio between the number of fatalities and the internet pages dedicated to them.

I find the most interesting bit on the map being the victims at Mariupol. I've seen this website rage that white people get more attention than POC. Well, you can see that the attention to Gazans is way more than what the people of Mariupol got.

So what makes the Israeli-Arab conflict get so much more attention that it deserves, based on its severity (as measured by the number of people killed)? There's actually NOTHING unique about it, except... that it involves the one Jewish state. Attack Israel, and you get to attack Jews. Attack Israel, and you get to attack the biggest Jewish community in the world. Attack Israel, and you get to attack and de-legitimize the country meant to serve as the Jewish safe haven. And if the high schoolers you were confronting got a diet of antisemitism at home, or from their friends, or they were simply sold this "social justice" narrative, that really stems from antisemitism, then yeah, they're going to be spreading antisemitism themselves.

And as I promised, the vid about the white phosphorus lie (it's a lie that I've heard every time Israel has been fighting Hamas, BTW. It's a lie every single time):

Hope you're taking care of yourself! And thank you again! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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virtualcarrot · 11 days

Text

[KKIR] Pen on paper - Part 3

[Ao3] [Part 2 on tumblr]

When Masato’s finally considering setting them loose on more advanced material, a courrier interrupts his lesson.

Masato’s supremely unimpressed.

“Yes?” he snaps, hand lowering from the blackboard.

None in the room are really pleased with the delay. They’re about to be given access to a room of--carefully vetted and unrestricted--scrolls and the class is abuzz with the excitement of new knowledge. It’s thrilling. Or it will be, as soon as they can get back to it.

Faltering under the weight of a classful of unhappy eyes, the young woman at the door clears her throat.

“I have a missive from the Rokudaime of Konohagakure, to be delivered to one Umino Iruka.”

The blood drains from Iruka’s face. A formal missive. Few things sound more ominous. He hopes Naruto’s okay. He hopes Hinata’s okay. He hopes Boruto--Oh gods, did Hinata miscarry?

“-inappropriate,” Masato’s saying. “Official communication from the Hokage should go through the Mizukage’s office. This is a gross sign of distrust and secrecy.”

“Kakashi-san probably didn’t realize the diplomatic implications,” Iruka hears himself say, ears ringing from the adrenaline rush.

“And what does this Kakas--” Masato begins to say, rolling his eyes at the implication of incompetence. He cuts himself short, likely as he notices the actual name he’s repeating. “You mean, the Rokudaime? Hatake Kakashi himself?”

All eyes turn on Iruka, who blinks in incomprehension. Ryo elbows him under the table and mouths a silent ‘ san ’ like a kid whispering the cheat to a test, except with a wide-eyed look of utter dismay.

“Kakashi-sama,” Iruka rushes to amend. “I meant Kakashi-sama.”

Masato welcomes the correction with a sneer. “Regardless, Intelligence should read it first. Iruka-san is not a diplomat. There is no privilege.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Nobuko retorts out loud and with an exceedingly dismissive snort. “He’s an official envoy from Konoha. What kind of moron would interfere with mail from the Hokage himself?”

If looks could kill, Nobuko would be dead on sight. Since it doesn't, she weathers Masato’s glare with indifferent aplomb. In the doorway, the courier seems to be considering the disproportion between her own pay and the whole hassle.

Finally, Masato relents.

“Very well. But make sure to inform the Mizukage’s office.”

“Yeah, sure,” the courier says unconvincingly.

Iruka barely glances at her. He’s too busy tearing the envelope open.

He skims over the content, two single sided pages of Kakashi’s sharp and concise strokes, the writing of someone used to efficient writing both on the field and in the office.

Then he blinks. He gives the pages a slower perusal. As far as he can see, everything’s fine. It is, in fact, pretty much a letter telling him just that, and one after another the clenched muscles of his body begin to ease.

By the board, Masato sniffs, radiating sarcasm. “May we continue the lesson, Iruka-sama?”

“Ah, yes, of course. Sorry.”

Iruka shakes himself and puts the letter away for later.

Dear Iruka-sensei,

It's come to my attention that you were worried about the effects of your absence. Be assured that Konoha still stands.

The mission desk is running smoothly. The newest clerks must have been suitably filled with fear of your retribution upon your return. As for the users, if any nurtured hope of slacking off on their reports out of your watch, they were quickly disabused.

I was able to meet with Hiroaki-kocho. He praised your work at the Academy and your positive influence on the teachers. We had an interesting conversation on how to tackle the old guard and draw them to new methods. I’m sure it's a topic you’ll have ample things to comment on.

(Incidentally, I was unaware that Hiroaki-kocho is such a connoisseur of spirits. The sake bottle was much lighter from his visit)

Naruto’s doing fine. It seems he's slowly coming to understand that the office has demands he can't simply talk his way out of. Just yesterday, he asked Shikamaru for further clarification on administrative procedures. The care of war orphans, I believe was the topic. I thought you'd want to know.

Hinata and Boruto are also well, as are Sakura and Sarada. Konohamaru remains promising. He will likely make jounin soon. If I forgot anyone you'd like to know about, please let me know.

I've also been made aware you might be under the impression that I oppose this enterprise. Understand that it is false.

Arm yourself with all the knowledge you want. If I'm lucky, you'll be kind enough to share it with me. After all, you'll soon be the one in charge of imparting it. You will be ready to be Headmaster well before Naruto takes the mantle from me.

Please take this letter as proof of my full support. I hope it finds you well.

Regards,

へのへのもへじ

“You okay?” a disembodied voice asks from on high.

Unable to look away from the words swimming on the paper, Iruka mumbles a vague acknowledgement.

From nir perch, Ryo has a clear line of sight of the meager furniture of their shared room, from the cramped closet to the other beds to the rickety table Iruka's using as a desk.

Ne peers over the railing of the top bunk bed. “I think you stopped breathing. Is it bad news?”

Iruka slowly lowers the letter, dizzy with longing. “No. No, it's… very much the opposite.”

“Are you sure? Or is it, like, secret?”

“He's fine, leave him be!” Nobuko yells from outside of the open sash window.

She’s sitting on the other side of the wall through core strength and chakra alone. They’re on the second floor. A hint of the smell of her cigarette wafts inside, carried by the smoke that the tori-based seal she summarily slapped on the raised pane is struggling to keep away. It’s the same she’d been using all of last week and it’s clearly losing power. Iruka will have to warn her. He doesn't mind it too much but Ryo tends to scrunch nir nose at the smell.

They weren’t all originally set to bunk together until Nobuko decided otherwise and bullied the original occupants into a switch. Although first disgruntled, the hostel owner opted to turn a blind eye. Likely, he measured the worth of arguing bed distribution against the effort it’d take, and came up with a negative result. He’s since been leaving them to their own devices, though not without pinched looks of judgment at their now mixed dormitory.

Thus far, the most debauchery they've indulged in is a late night game of koi-koi with the hanafuda Ryo provided. They drank a couple of cheap beers while playing, after which Toru blessed them with a taste from his personal stash of umeshu.

It tasted lovely but Kakashi would probably find it too sweet.

Iruka drops his face in his hands with a groan. Even his thoughts won’t give him respite.

“Shower’s free,” Toru announces, walking in with his damp towel thrown over his arm. “If you’re fast enough, it might still be when you get there.”

As if on a spring, Ryo scrambles into motion. Then ne stalls, one leg hanging over the precipice of the bunk bed. Iruka doesn’t have to see it to feel nir beseeching look.

He lowers his hands with a sigh and leans back to meet nir gaze. Out of the corner of his eyes, he catches Nobuko crushing her cigarette on the window sill and maneuvering to come inside. Her chakra control isn’t bad for a non-active operative but she’s clearly better skilled at sticking her back to the wall than shifting anchor points.

“I’m vice-principal of Konoha Academy,” Iruka reminds them. “I was worried about taking a leave. Kakashi-sama has been kind enough to keep me informed.”

Nobuko sucks her teeth. “Sama, is it now?” she mutters on her way to the trash can, where she drops the cooling cigarette butt.

Justifications crowd the tip of Iruka’s tongue. Kakashi insists on a lack of decorum, he wants to say. He’s never sought praise, he’s never sought fame, if anything he’s been haunted by it. Only his sense of duty keeps pushing him in the spotlight.

Kakashi’s down-to-earth. He takes pride in his work, because he takes pride in work well done and he takes pride in doing it well, but he’s not self-important. He doesn’t like being made to feel special. Kakashi, Iruka thinks, has been made to feel special too many times for too many wrong reasons over the years.

Kakashi favors teamwork. He values friendship. Probably, being called an equalizing honorific makes him feel less alone.

Iruka rubs the back of his neck with a wince and says none of it.

“Ah, about that. Slip of the tongue,” is what he goes with. “I’ve known him before he was appointed. He was jounin-sensei to some of my students.”

It’s the most honest and the shallowest reply he feels safe to give.

He ignores Nobuko’s noncommittal scoff. Ryo has made nir way down the top bed and is staring at him with something strange in nir eyes, like ne’s seeing Iruka for the first time. It’s unnerving.

“I didn’t realize you were so close to the Hokage,” ne says and Iruka suddenly recognizes with a flare of embarrassment what the shine in nir eyes is: admiration.

The mere fact of knowing another person isn’t worthy of that much.

“I’m not. I just used to be a teacher, is all. Nothing much.”

By the closet door where he's hanging his towel off to dry, Toru tuts in disapproval.

“Nothing much?” he repeats, sounding genuinely upset. “You’re Vice-Principal of Konohagakure Academy. It’s unfair that you speak of your duties so lightly. That’s a lot of responsibility. I hope you take it seriously.”

Iruka doesn’t think there’ll be an age where he isn’t vulnerable to disapproval from an older, respected figure. That is likely why he doesn’t snap back over being scolded by what, all things considered, is very much still a near stranger.

In fact, Iruka ducks his head, admonished.

“Of course I do! I almost canceled this trip, I was so worried about leaving!”

At his words, Toru’s gaze turns considering. Then he smiles, satisfied. For a brief, grief-stricken second, Iruka wonders if the Sandaime would also be pleased with him. With who he’s become today.

“Your kage seems to think you do, anyway,” Toru grants lightly, packing away his toiletries. “To take the time to write to you. That's quite the honor, you know?”

Iruka does. He knows it all too much.

No matter how much Kakashi insists on informal terms of address, there’s nothing equal about them.

The scroll Masato unrolls barely reaches the length of the table. It’s surprisingly short for the amount of power it radiates. In a slow succession of groups, the students are invited to crowd over to examine it.

Iruka’s group is among the last to reach it.

“Amazing work. See the lines here?” Toru says in a low voice, finger tracing over them from afar. The library assistant watches him eagle-eyed in case he comes into contact. “They drive the chain of triggers.”

Iruka peers over, squinting in interest. At the center of the scroll, Inu presides. Smaller characters circle it, disposed with elegant symmetry along what Iruka suspects to be cardinal points. Long, fluid strokes of ink tie them together, swirling back and forth from Inu and the other characters. The result is mesmerizing.

“This isn’t just a trigram, it’s a nodal seal,” he whispers. It’s not even on purpose. His throat has gone tight with awe.

“The crowning achievement of Kiri style sealing,” Masato confirms with a puff of his chest.

They spend the rest of the afternoon studying the strokes, trying to figure out the order they were drawn and whether the sequence of catalysts would follow the same path. While Toru and Nobuko are busy arguing opposing interpretations, Ryo keeps glancing up at Iruka.

He doesn’t know what ne expects from him. In spite of his origins, Iruka has no practice of Kiri technique. If anything, given the intuitive ease with which Ryo’s been picking it up, it’s nem that Iruka should be looking to for help, not the other way around. And he sure needs it. He’s been struggling.

After a moment, he stops scratching down notes with a sigh. “What is it?”

“Did you reply?” Ryo asks before adding, in the face of his confusion: “to your Hokage?”

Iruka crosses his arms, feeling a scowl darkening his face. “What’s your obsession with this?”

Undeterred, Ryo does an antsy windmill motion with nir hands. “You got a letter. From your Hokage! How can you be so cool about it? You think the Tsuchikage would write to me? I don’t think he even knows I exist!”

Iruka can’t help but smile, struck with the sweet relief that this isn’t about him. He remembers being young and desperate to prove himself. He remembers what it was to hope to be noticed.

On the other side of the table, he catches sight of Nobuko and Toru’s looks of amused interest. Iruka rubs his chin in the appearance of thoughtfulness.

“Hm. But why would you want him to?”

Ryo falters with a frown of frustration. “I don’t know? It’d be cool? If the great kage himself acknowledged me?”

Iruka’s been so stuck feeling inadequate and inferior, these past days, that he forgot how much wider and bigger the world is than him. He completely missed Ryo’s insecurity. Ne’s younger, after all, nearly as young as Iruka was when he started teaching. He hadn’t realized just how much of a difference these ten years between them make. He hadn’t realized how much he, himself, has matured.

“Why do you need him to?” he prompts. “Will that make you stronger? Smarter?”

“Of course it won’t,” ne replies, upset to be misunderstood.

Iruka nods. “No, it won’t, because you’re already smart. You’re hardworking. You’re curious and sharp-minded. I see it. Toru-san and Nobuko-san see it. Sure, it’s not as fun to brag about than the Tsuchikage,” he adds, good-naturedly ignoring Ryo’s stammered disagreement, “but the Tsuchikage doesn’t know you. He’s not the one sharing a room with you. He isn’t fleecing you at cards. I’d say, we’re much better suited to give you accurate feedback. Better looking too,” he adds with a wink, just to break the ice.

Ryo flushes at that, and then flushes deeper when ne notices ne’s the focus of Toru and Nobuko’s attention.

Suppressing a smirk, Nobuko turns back to her notes with a carefree roll of her shoulders. “Eh, you’re alright. Less obnoxious than Toru, definitely.”

Following that, they resume their study of the seal, trying to identify usable patterns. After a while, Ryo lowers nir pencil.

“Does that mean you, like, know the Hokage?” ne asks, less combative than earlier.

“As I said, he’s taught some of my students.”

Ryo gives him a mean look over his evasive answer. When even Toru’s expression turns disapproving, Iruka sighs.

“I’ve known Kakashi-san for years. He was a good team leader to me, before I became a teacher. Tried to take the fall when I messed up. He’s a good guy. He means well and he cares about the students. More than I gave him credit for, to be honest.” He scratches the bridge of his nose, feeling sheepish. Then he catches their curious looks and clarifies: “we’ve been working on reforming the Academy.” He meets Ryo’s gaze before ne gets any ideas. “Trust me, it’s not glamorous. Late nights of paperwork, takeout, and finances spreadsheets. Not anybody’s dream of a pleasant evening.”

Except Iruka, apparently, who has grown terribly fond of those meetings.

“Are you and the Hokage… friends?” Ryo asks, but this time ne sounds more puzzled than wonderstruck.

The question hits a bit too close to everything Iruka’s been trying and failing so terribly to push away from his thoughts.

He shrugs one shoulder. “The Hokage’s a private person. But yeah, we’re friendly.”

Toru gives a sharp, meaningful little nod. “The burden of power is not an easy one,” he says, to which Nobuko lets out a tortured groan.

“I swear, Toru, you say the lamest things,” she says, looking for a distraction by tugging one of the schematics out of the pile they’ve drawn.

Ryo perks up at the sight.

“Oh, I think I see it, now,” ne says, and proceeds to draw and trigger a two-nodes seal that floods their desk in a matter of seconds. Iruka manages to crumple their research to the dry safety of his arms, but only narrowly.

Inspiration strikes Iruka the next morning, while he’s applying balm of sea foam to his temples. He keeps it in mind all day, scraping a few errant minutes here and there to write it down and waiting for the time to complete his parcel.

At the end of the day, the old man at the apothecary squints at him in recognition. Iruka would be surprised, hadn’t he lived the most of his life with a very identifiable scar running across the middle of his face.

“Back already? What did you do, eat it? You’re not supposed to.”

“Ah, no. It’s not for me. But I was wondering if the balm couldn't also help someone back home.”

“It’s not hand lotion. Can’t go around just giving it to anyone.”

Iruka stamps down on his irritation and reminds himself that he’s a guest in Kiri. He tries to figure out a way of wording the issue without divulging state secrets, and gestures in the vague direction of the right half of his face.

“My… friend… used to have a seal over here. For years. Now that the seal’s been taken off, they’ve been having trouble adjusting.”

Thoroughly unimpressed, the shopkeeper snorts. “And what, you don’t have medinin in… wherever you’re from?”

“Konoha. And my friend has a high tolerance for pain,” Iruka replies carefully.

“Ah. The grin and bear it type,” the shopkeeper hums, sounding vaguely sympathetic. ”Tell me the symptoms.”

Something about the folds of his skin seems wry, like he’s very aware he’s about to be given a summarily redacted version of the situation. At the end of Iruka’s account, he scratches his cheek.

“Hm. Chakra migraines. Yeah, unpleasant. Balm of Sea Foam might help, alright. Force chakra flow, plug the leak,” he says, disappearing into the backroom with what Iruka’s beginning to suspect is customary curtness.

Iruka leaves with his purchase wrapped in coarse brown paper. He tucks it into the envelope he folded while at the Archives, along with the letter he penned during lunch break.

The receptionist at the hostel greets him with her usual disinterest. She barely glances at the envelope, even as she grabs a notebook to add it to her to-do list. It’s not the worst she’s had to deal with: three days ago, one of the researchers handed her a chest-wide package to send to Suna. It took up a third of her counter until she was able to push it onto a courrier.

“Where’s it going?” she asks in a monotone.

“Konohagakure,” Iruka supplies helpfully.

“To whom?”

“Hatake Kakashi.”

“Address?”

“Hokage tower.”

A credit to her lethargy, it takes reaching the middle of the address before her pen skids in confusion.

She looks up warily.

“Hatake Kakashi. The Hokage. Of Konoha.” An eyebrow lifts in judgment. “Through common mail?” At Iruka’s nod, she shakes her head. “Don’t you have, like, messenger birds and sh--Oh, what am I saying. Yeah, sure, I’ll take care of it, whatever.”

“Right,” Iruka says, before expressing bemused thanks.

When he reaches it, the dormitory’s empty. A fresh tori seal is cycling air through the window. He throws his legs on the other side of the sill, feet dangling while he sits to take in the view.

It doesn’t go far. Kiri’s imposing tower karsts block the horizon, safeguarding and secretive. The salt of the sea at large still finds its way over, carried by the wind even past the tobacco smoke. Beneath, a lake of ambient mist rolls sluggishly, puddling in the many dips of Kirigakure’s uneven ground like water in rocky shores. The sinuous streets and stairs that complete the landscape draw labyrinthic paths between the cylindrical architecture of the village.

Iruka misses Konoha’s overgrown forest. He misses…

When Nobuko holds out her cigarette, he doesn’t startle.

“Didn't peg you as one for hero-worship crushes,” she says, back and feet adhering to the wall.

“I'm not,” Iruka denies.

He gives a minute shake of his head. She pulls her hand away with a shrug.

“Ah.” The tip of her cigarette flares in the corner of his eyes. “Don't worry, kid. Heartbreak passes.”

Seagulls squawk in the distance, where the eye can’t see. At the windowsill, Iruka pulls up a knee to brace on.

“You?” he asks.

Nobuko takes a silent, drawn out drag. She blows it out in an even longer breath. Her gaze is far away. She rubs the lower half of her face then shakes off the cobwebs of her thoughts.

“Eh. It’s happened. But love needs making yourself vulnerable.” She sucks her teeth and huffs a humorless chuckle. “I'm not made to be vulnerable.”

She offers the cigarette again, pinched upright between thumb and forefinger.

Iruka takes it.

(He coughs, just a little)

Dear Kakashi-san,

Thank you for your letter. I was a bit homesick--I've gotten rusty and complacent, I think, staying in Konoha--and it was the perfect cure for it! I'm very grateful. It's a relief to know everything is going well. And to have your support.

You'll find enclosed a little balm. I know your headaches tend to flare, and I thought this might be of help. The apothecary is a grumpy and kind old man that seems perpetually peeved, but his advice has been sound. I use it myself [...]

[Part 4]

#naruto #kakairu #kkir #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #my scrawl #fic : naruto

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bi-zemo · 2 years

Text

curiousity - tate langdon x male reader

tate hates that students moved into the house, but the guy that moved into his room may be able to help him with something.

based of the british concept of student houses (aka bunch of students rent a shitty house together while in uni) idk if americans have those but idc, reader takes drugs btw, bottom tate

crossposted on ao3

The house being turned into a student house was a decision hated by the ghosts, young people moving in and out every year bringing with them mess, drugs, drinking and parties. The ghosts had no privacy and the students were so busy or so high that they couldnt be haunted out. Tate was of the opinion he had gotten the worst deal, yes he enjoyed being out in the open during the many house parties but the current resident of his room was arguably the worst yet. Every other night, every night when there was a break from college, the resident of tates bedroom would bring someone, or on occasion multiple people, into what tate considered his space. They would take pills or drop acid or snort something and that was when tate would leave, right as a tie or sock was slung over the doorknob. It pissed him off, that sort of thing happening in his room, he wasn't exactly the virgin mary himself but the amount of guys going in and out of that room was disgusting. The fact that it was men really didn't help the students' case in tates eyes, there were enough dead queers in the house without alive ones moving in. He was curious though.

I walked through the house, squeezing past people in the stairwell and struggling up the steps as the tab I had dropped nearly an hour ago made each step warp and move. “Need some help sweetheart?” I relaxed my grip on the bannister and turned to the familiar voice, the guy who I had been seeing occasionally standing behind me. “I'm good, i think, you’re free to come up if you want though.” I smirked slightly, trying not to laugh at how the taller mans usually beautiful features had become disproportioned. my arm was gently grabbed and I was led upstairs, the people thinning out as we headed to the bedrooms. “Let me guess, acid” “Yeah only a tab tho-” I turned only to find he had disappeared, the darkness feeling so much more terrifying with the psychedelics fucking with my vision. “Looking for someone?” I whipped around facing down the landing again, except now there was a man staring darkly at me, his figure somehow still in the ever changing room. “My friend, he was just here..” “Probably just drunk, or on something knowing this place, you going somewhere?” “Yeah, was going to bed,” I felt uneasy in the darkness, especially with the man's dark eyes staring into me. I longed to be back in the party downstairs. “I can walk you to bed if you want” “I think i can manage” i was becoming less sure of that, the man somehow amplifying the effects of the acid while still remaining perfect. “You sure about that love? Whatever you've taken seems to be making it hard to walk” “It's just,” i attempted to walk a straight line “the floor keeps moving, that's all” The guy grabbed my arm where my friend had before and led me along the hallway, stopping right outside my door despite the fact that i hadn't told him where it was. I was caught off guard by how quickly we had traversed the seemingly lengthened hallway. “You can uh, you can come in, i think i have some wine under my bed, or like some beer maybe” The man smiled and opened the door, stepping in like he was already at home in my small room. He settled on the mess of quilts and pillows that was my bed, almost lounging. “I’ll have whatever, don't think you should though not sure how it'll interact with,” he gestured at my current state. “Yeah, lemme just,” I got on my knees, rooting around under my bed until I found the bottle of cheap wine I had hidden from my housemates under there. “Didn't expect you on your knees so quickly,” he joked, making me feel less uneasy around this almost stranger. I laughed quietly handing him the bottle. “You owe me, its my last bottle.” “Ill be sure to bring one next time i'm here.” “Good to know you’ll be back” The guys eyes glinted at me as he uncorked the bottle and took a swig, his adams apple bobbing as he almost chugged it down. “Thirsty?” “Just tryna catch up with you.” I stood up flipping on my leds with the remote from my bedside table and tugged my hoodie off, chucking it on a nearby chair. “Why is that?” I settled on the bed next to him, slouching down and staring at the ceiling as colours swirled around my bare lightbulb. I felt him shift and his face came into view. “Well from what i know about you, being fucked up makes this better.” And with that he kissed me, soft inexperienced lips almost aggressively connecting with mine. I wound my hands into his soft hair, the acid making his short breaths deafening, and he crawled on top of me, his knee moving between my thighs. His movements were stunted, my heightened senses picking up how his hands only ghosted my clothed skin. I moved my other arm to slide the fingers under the hem of his shirt to where a stretch of skin was revealed from his shirt riding up. I felt his breathing stop for barely a second when my fingers brushed his lower back, that second taking much longer than it should. Our lips parted, a string of saliva breaking after a moment, and I opened my eyes to see him staring at me again with those black eyes. “Tate stop bothering him,” He jolted and I saw a girl standing in the doorway, her figure having the same effect of not moving as the doorway swayed around her. He quickly moved off me, adjusting his shirt hastily. “I guess I should go.” I felt almost disappointed, oddly cold without his touch. The girl had disappeared. “Whose she? You don't have to leave.” “Violet, she's uh, a friend.” an ex then, “I'm gonna go.” “You still owe me that wine.” “I know”

It was the next day and my mind was tired, the comedown not treating me well. I was pottering around the kitchen making pasta when I heard a voice. “I brought that wine” It was the guy,tate I recalled from that fever dream of a night. “How did you get in?” “Door was unlocked.” He handed me a bottle, one of the cheap brands my household favoured, and I tucked it under my arm, grabbing my bowl of pasta. “Wanna come upstairs?”

Tate could barely hold himself back, an invisible thread pulling him to the man he had only kissed for a moment yet felt like he knew entirely. The bottle of wine had been discarded on the bedside table and the guy was talking wearily about his classes or something along that vein. “So what do you study” Tate realised he should answer. “Oh, i don't go to college, dropped out of high school” The lie slipped out easily, something he had told previous owners of this room. He hadn't planned on talking to the guy again, just kissing him the night before out of curiosity, but it had felt like a bolt of electricity had hit him the moment they touched and he couldn't help but want to feel like that again, like he was alive. He found himself shuffling closer as they talked, turning his head right as the other turned his. The animated talking stopped immediately as their eyes locked.

I almost didn't realise we were kissing again, one minute tates dark eyes were staring straight into mine next his lips were on mine, more aggressive than the night before, all signs of inexperience gone. I melted into him, hands moving to grip the front of his shirt and pull him into me. This time when we drew apart we barely paused before he dug a hand into my hair and pulled me into him again. The initial shock had worn off and I started an attempt to be in charge again, slipping my tongue into his mouth and moving my hand down to his waist. I pulled away and moved to his neck, hearing barely there gasps as I gently bit below his ear. At this point I had pushed him against the headboard of my bed, my thighs straddling one of his. “Fuck” I chuckled lightly at the word, barely mumbled after my hand had slipped under his shirt and started gently caressing his waist. I could feel his breathing pause when I moved along his sensitive v line and teased the waistband of his jeans. Each touch had a physical reaction and I found myself addicted to finding a new sound or twitch. “I want to fuck you.” His dark bambi eyes looked up at me when he heard the sentence, cheeks flushed and lips slick with spit. I couldn't tell if he was batting his eyelashes on purpose. “Go ahead.” My hand went from fiddling his jeans button to unbuttoning them, pulling them down past his erection that was trapped behind his baggy boxers, he had pushed his shoes off when he sat on my bed and so his jeans slipped off easily, leaving his plush thighs to start pebbling with goosebumps from my cold room. He began pulling off his own t-shirt as I began slipping off my sweatpants and hoodie. The moment we were both almost naked I reconnected our lips, my hands exploring his warm thighs and ass, pulling him up to rest on his knees over my lap. “You're beautiful tate.” He flushed, the blush spreading down his chest. “Just fuck me already.” Such dirty words coming out of his timid blushed form made my cock twitch, and i couldn't help but follow what he said. I pushed Tate back, hearing the headboard bang against the wall as he thumped onto the bed, and tugged his boxers past those beautiful thighs, leaving kisses as I went. His thighs were soon hooked around my head, almost suffocating me as I lapped at his ass, preparing him gently and teasing out those gaspy moans. He had seemed unsure when I initially dove down but his heels pressing against my back and pulling me closer eradicated any fear that he wasn't enjoying this. His hands tugged my hair drawing me closer still. Without looking up I grabbed the lube from my bedside table, only coming up for air to read the label. I had grabbed the flavoured luckily. I squirted it onto his taint, watching him shiver as it slid over his ass before sliding a finger in and letting my mouth join it. The sweet flavour suited him. He winced slightly but still let out a groan and pulled my now sweaty hair to the point where it almost hurt. Another finger slipped in easily and I felt his legs squeeze as I started moving them gently. I moved up, still fingering him to force out the whines, and let him pull me up to kiss him. I hastily pushed off my boxers with my free hand and leant over to grab a condom. I withdrew my fingers with a squelch, causing Tate to open his eyes and look at me through his blonde fringe, his eyelashes fluttering again. I rolled the condom on and lined myself up, leaning into tates cold neck as I pushed in. The noise he made was unforgettable, like a combination of a gasp and a deep groan, i rocked my hips slightly as i eased in my full length. A moment later I grabbed his left thigh and pushed his leg up, allowing me to bottom out with a sigh. “Fuck, holy fuck” His head was thrown back as he said this, his throat bared and his eyes shut gently. I pushed his other thigh back until he was almost folded in half and began thrusting, my breaths coming out in pants as his ass squeezed around me almost too tight. I could see his cock hard against his stomach, oozing precum onto the pale skin. “You’re taking me so good honey” He blushed and I saw his cock twitch at the praise. “Such a good boy.” And with that I pulled out almost my full length, thrusting back in as hard as I could and making him moan loud enough that my housemates would most definitely ask about it later. I tried the best I could to keep up the speed, enjoying watching tates beautiful reactions. He was gripping the headboard above him at this point, tears forming in his eyes and drool slipping from the corner of his mouth. “Can-” he could barely talk from moaning so i slowed, “can you take the condom off, i wanna feel-” he blushed. “You wanna feel what baby.” “I wanna feel you cum inside.” He must've felt my dick twitch then, his words coming out desperate enough that if i had been any closer i may have come. I shouldn't have, he could have an std for all i knew, but i slid out and removed the condom. Pushing back in caused tate to hiss as i hadn't lubed up a second time, but when i paused he begged me to keep going and moaned loudly as i bottomed out. The warmth was almost burning now that I could feel it fully. I moved slowly at first before the friction subsided and I could go faster again. “Fuck, tate, im close” He whined, blonde hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, and I gave one final thrust that almost pushed him up the bed before cumming. As I rode out my orgasm I felt him clench and shudder as he came over his chest. I kept going to help him through before my softening cock slipped out and I collapsed onto the bed next to him. “I didn't realise it would feel that good” His words came out hoarse and breathless, I turned with mild surprise. “You haven't had sex with-” “With a guy, no.” I was too exhausted to comment, just rolling over and pulling him to my chest. “You took it well.” I felt him hesitantly snuggle into my chest.

Tate felt the others' breath even out and instantly made himself disappear, pulling on his clothes and moving towards the door, stopping only to fix his hair in the mirror and wipe the dried spit from his mouth. “Didn’t take you for a queer.” Tate rolled his eyes, pushing past violet. “Didn't take you for a voyeur” He ignored that he could feel the other mans cum beginning to run down his thigh.

#tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #tate Langdon x you #tate langdon x male reader #tate langdon x y/n #ahs murder house #ahs #evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters x male reader

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jesterpunk · 7 months

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yo a they/it agender ex-tittitian? im kinda in the same boat (also they/it agender), as in, dont exactly know how to feel about my physical appearance (i dont mind it, but i still wonder). Makes me curious, dya regret the surgery? or is it more like a general grievance? akin to a loss

hell yeah !! def don't regret the surgery but definitely still feel a loss or grievance. I'm gonna reuse a half on an answer I sent someone else privately:

I miss having them. I see non-binary transition and being agender to be a messy and imperfect process. there's no guidebook for us for how to look, we are just given the checklists our trans men and women counterparts tend to be given (facial hair? breasts? low voice? softer skin?) and we pick and choose which aspects we like and dislike.. a binary choice for each option.

you and I don't have a binary way to answer, "do you want breasts?" somedays it's yes. somedays it's no. I decided to go with No by default but yes when I wanna put on my breast forms, as opposed to the other way around. you don't have to do the same as me. I don't regret it at all, but I do miss my tits and I am still grieving them. it's a lot to lose a part of you but it's also euphoric being able to present in a way I was never able to before .

and specifically about being agender and how that affected my decision:

two things I was sure of for myself regarding my chest: I didn't want a reduction (I liked being stacked and since my booty isn't that thick I liked the disproportion) and if I got the surgery I did not wanna keep my nipples (I didn't want a """"male"""" chest, I wanted a freak chest) and as U know, I went with the latter. I am agender, and I really love showing as much as possible that I'm not a man or woman, so even if my scars eventually fade, the flat nippleless chest is such a blatantly genderless move, that I'm really happy about choosing.

my biggest take away as an agender person is that there's no right decision. There doesn't need to be a decision and it doesn't need to be right or logical, so I went for it knowing my body isn't what makes my gender to begin with or end with. at the end of the day, idk how I feel about my body either, but I thought I looked hot in a crop top when I had DDs and I still think I look hot in a crop top with a smooth flat chest, so in that sense, you win some, you win some 😎

(same shirt before & after)

#gender ask #watermelon-swag

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hiwelcometothemonstersancturary · 6 months

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Do you intensely dislike Garten of Banban?

I think this may surprise some of you guys, but I actually dislike Poppy Playtime way more than Garten of Banban. And I have my reasons for that!

Yes, GoB is... Dubious, to say the least. Awful, even. Poorly optimized, the gameplay is no fun, I have no idea what the story went but I heard it's a bit wonky, as all mascot horror stories should be (yes, should!!!!! But also it depends what type of wonkiness we're talking about but that's a discussion for another post/ask), it is indeed a cash grab. But also:

Poppy Playtime is, too, a cash grab. And fewer people complain about it, because it has a nice and shiny coat of paint and better optimization than GoB, but we cannot deny it's still a cash grab!!!!

I made GoB jokes when it was first released, but after hearing and seeing how the internet was treating the devs, I felt dumb. Like, yeah, I don't like that game, but the hate it received was way disproportional to what it actually deserved, and I wasn't helping the devs by being a whiny hater. My dislike for GoB turned into a big old "oh alright!", so nowadays I'm more neutral towards it (thankfully!). I mean, at least the devs don't make YouTube Kids content farm videos ON PURPOSE. Y'know, like another, super popular mascot horror game that took over this blog due to it reverse-engineering my brain back into writing and drawing...

Garten of Banban is yet another poorly-made mascot horror game, but calling it the death of mascot horror or the worst mascot horror game out there is just dumb. There's more harmful and worse games out there! I still don't like nor dislike it, but I'm always wary when someone in a video is hating it, because it's something easy to hate. It's easy to say bad things about GoB and that's why so many people made and STILL MAKE content about just hating that game. Poppy Playtime, on the other hand...

Anyways I love that stupid purple bird. I hate the way it stares at the player and I hate those eyes. It's so stupid I would unironically have a plushie of it. 10/10 it's so dumb it turned endearing.

#garten of banban #the negativity tag #ask tag

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valentinesparda · 5 months

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you know what. I know I keep saying I want to experiment with my art style a couple of times and after a while of thinking about it off and on (like. several years) but it's because I realized that like. I've experienced and put myself through a bunch of psychological bullshit in regards to how my art and the style I've had to develop is perceived. I started out drawing cartoony styles and eventually when I started to get into anime in the mid 2000s I started emulating the styles I liked. naruto in particular definitely helped me start to draw more, and then atla, and copying images in game informers of like the trauma center games and such, and when I got to art class in high school I had my teacher tell me that yeah you can draw cartoons but you can also do realism, and I think if you're gonna continue doing art you should stick to realism. standard fare for a child raised in the 00s

but the worst offender is when I became active on the internet

i love drawing what most people would consider anime. I'm also really good at realism as far as I can tell. there's no need for me to have to choose to survive as an artist but like. I went through a phase of no longer thinking anime and video games were cool and became your typical superwholock blogger, and then came the MASSIVE wave of realistic or semi-realistic styles becoming what everyone wanted to see, and I feel like part of that has to be from other kids that experienced their art teachers telling them that cartoons and anime would never serve them as an artist, and then a large part of it came from the fact that anime was never really cool

but anyways, there was a very big boom of the only popular fanarts you ever saw were the hyper realistic types that were massively detailed and I was gaslit into believing that yeah, I can't have fun with my art, and if I do then it has to be proportionate to real life and always has to be palatable to the main audience of "don't have fun with your art" unless you're mimicking a Hanna Barbera cartoon and had plans to make art a job or you could only ever make money off of your art and don't forget to do commissions or sell your art or you aren't a Real Artist, so I've done so much work to learn anatomy and lighting and all of that just to come right back around with the set of rules but now I can break them

so I'm so happy that I get to be in a time now where yeah there's still the majority of artists that have only ever developed a hyper realistic style and that's okay, but now it's more acceptable to have fun with your art, have it be scratchy and disproportional and give them big anime eyes and don't worry about etching out details for everything. I never felt like I was happy with making my art look real and I want to go back to my roots of cartoons and anime and scribbling with oil pastels and never using watercolor correctly. I got so boring with my colors and my poses for the past seven years specifically because I just wasn't ever happy with anything I made and I want to make things that make me happy, and if the first step was to only draw selfship art then like, so be it, because that's where I started too

trust me I'm not knocking anyone for their art styles but I am saying that there shouldn't have to be a single road you have to take to become palatable as an artist, the only thing that matters is if art is fun for you, if you're making things you like, and god dammit, you do NOT have to sell your art to be a good artist

#val.txt

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mcl38 · 9 months

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I think the disproportion in show of affection from lando and carlos comes from the age difference, lando is young, and soaks up attention so he’s being pass around between djs, streamers and close knit friends and just has so many ppls around that for him it’s (just may be) like whtvr, yeah carlos is my friend like many other friends I have.

Carlos being more mature now and centered, more low key, seems to cherish and take care of the ppl he considers close to him, respect is a really big thing to him and so if he respects you, you automatically have a place in his life and would get out of his way (as much as he can) to help I somehow.

Also in the interview he does say that he saw the mercs getting closer and that if they passed lando who has similar tire wear to him, they would def pass him so he decided to help lando and in doing so help himself. I’m not saying that the one behind him being lando didn’t absolutely contribute but he’s also not that consumed by emotion.

oh yea sorry if it sounded if i implied carlos's emotionality clouds his judgement in the car - hes one of the drivers where ive genuinely never seen that happen (and we've all witnessed it with others). its just that i do actually rly like to hear drivers admitting that the way they think inside the car is slightly different to the macho tough utra-rational mentalities a driver is usually expected to present. carlos saying he does treat lando and fernando slightly more gently, lewis in 2018(?) saying he engages w max more carefully during wheel-to-wheels, lando often explicitly mentioning how scared he is in certain situations or at certain tracks (singapore and monaco specifically), etc. i find it refreshing, relatable, and like also very true in a delightful way

aside from that - i did see that interview, and im aware 99% of carlos's strategy was dictated by the circumstances that happened to b behind him, and i do believe he wouldve done that with whoever else wouldve been in p2 if lando wasnt there. that said, i do ALSO believe he thinks its nicer or more special bc lando was the one in p2. thats what i was trying to say

and yea i deffo think carlos and lando treat friendships differently - maybe its stages in life, or personalities, or a combination of the two. carlos has always been big into respect, & i rly think he respects lando a whole bunch, and thats deffo never left him. meanwhile lando - "he’s being pass around between djs, streamers and close knit friends" is v funny and also quite true. i think after the pandemic left him like, quite lonely, and maybe in a bit of a panic abt how lonely he was, he made an effort to solidify an old and trusted group of friends around him, which he's basically now settled into. and now he's in a phase where he's kind of exploring his boundaries beyond that, going on vacations w martin garrix n his friends or whatever. also like, lando is very gen z in ways carlos clearly isnt, and that means a lot of his socialising is done online (to the point where when he was living w max they sometimes texted more than actually talking to each other). so that inherently means that sometimes the friends who have access to landos time and energy arent those he chooses to prioritise, but like those who happen to be online on discord - whether that be angryginge or filly or matt gallagher or bankai or whoever, ykwim (and max) (usually max lmao). which means carlos will naturally have a disconnect w lando in that area

but yea i get what u mean for sure. its also like, 2019-2020, carlos and lando's interactions were not only v much facilitated by them being teammates, but also in huge part filmed or televised, which means that we had so much more of a grasp on what they were like w each other. now its genuinely just guesswork, ykwim

#anon #ask #lando #carlos

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farfromstrange · 2 years

Text

I should go to sleep. Instead, I just had an idea while listening to my Harry Styles sleep playlist.

Hear me out:

Already Home Bridge. Matt and Eliza. Foreigner’s God.

(But also the entire song screams them.)

In alleyways –

“Has anyone ever told you that your anger is disproportional to your size?” he asked.

Eliza licked her lips. Dangerous territory. “No one’s been stupid enough to say it to my face,” she said. “Until now.”

What had she said about him being genuine? The anger suffocated every last bit of gratitude underneath a pile of rocks.

“Of course. Look, it’s my job to protect this city. I’m not leaving. If you know what’s good for you, you stop pushing your luck.”

The lower part of his face was infuriating. He smirked like the cocky bastard he was; she wanted to scratch the skin off his face and feed it to the dogs.

“You think so highly of yourself, it’s ridiculous.” It was her turn to smirk and she did it broad enough for him to see. She hoped it burned into his brain like hot iron. “I’m not letting you ruin this for me.“

“What?”

Eliza raised her hands. The smoke came back to dance choreography around her fingers.

“I’m sorry,” - she let the smoke rise - “but this one’s mine!”

The sensation was different than a punch. Energy surged through him, pushing him back in one fast wave, almost like he was floating. The ball hit him in the chest, hard, and it carried him into the door set in the middle of the rooftop, leading into a stairway down the building. Heavy as he was, his figure disappeared down the stairs. Thuds followed until he was too far down to care.

Eliza stretched her fingers. The red in her eyes persisted.

“Nothing personal.”

And fire escapes –

“God!” He tightened his fist around the handle. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” he said.

Eliza gnawed on her lip. “Yeah?”

He slipped back into his gloves. “Tomorrow night,” he pointed at her, “I’ll come to you.”

“What,” she said, “you’re gonna throw rocks at my window?”

He slipped through the crack. “If you don’t stop acting like an idiot, I’m gonna throw a brick.”

“Wow.”

“At your face.”

“Wow!”

Even when she believed him to be gone, he proved her wrong once again. He peeked his head through the window, standing on the fire escape. To be fair, she didn’t see it coming and it was his fault she almost banged it down onto his neck.

“Thank you,” he said.

corridors, I see your face // From aeroplanes to the bullet trains // summer skies to the pouring rain –

“It means that I am unconditionally, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with you!” Eliza burst at the seams. “I have been from the day you first kissed me. Hell, I think I’ve been in love with you since you stepped into that stupid interrogation room to bail me out. It’s because you came back. No one’s ever done that for me before. I was stupid and so scared of love that I pushed all of my feelings down. But you’ve occupied every thought I had ever since you left, and I can’t seem to get you out of my head. You’re always there, everywhere I go. Everything reminds me of you and it hurts to know you’re not there. I wondered why… this is why!”

Matt folded his cane, dropping it on the doorstep.

“I’m in love with you, Matthew Michael Murdock, and it feels so fucking good to finally say it out loud. Everything makes sense now. It feels like I can finally breathe again; after all this time of walking in the darkness, I’ve finally seen the light at the end of the tunnel, and I’m choosing to walk toward it,” she said. “And I know that I’ve hurt you, I’ve hurt you badly, and there is a very big chance I might not be able to fix this… there is a chance that you have fallen out of love with me, that you don’t love me anymore because of what I’ve done, and I’d understand that. I’d understand if you rejected me or told me to go to hell, but please, say something before I make an even bigger fool out of myself. I really can’t find any more words to say that would make sense to anyone but myself. I mean, I’ve already embarrassed myself, so I guess it can’t get any worse, but...”

“Eliza?” he said.

“What?”

“Shut up.”

She gasped audibly when he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into him with a strength that remained unmatched, and crashed his lips into hers.

[…]

He breathed into her mouth, “It’s gonna rain soon.”

“I don’t care,” she said.

They got completely lost in the feel of each other. As predicted, the sky soon opened up to release its tears onto them. Eliza had cried enough for a lifetime and Matt probably had, too. She didn’t even want to know how much he suffered at her hand and what it made of him.

The past mattered no more though. They were together, in each other’s arms, where they were supposed to be.

All the future plans we will never make // from a beating heart to the farthest place –

She loved him, she did and admitting it took so much weight off her chest, she forgot what else had happened the past hours and days. Eliza didn’t care about Natasha or the others, she didn’t even care about the drugs. At that moment, she craved only one thing and that was him in any way he could give himself to her, and she would give herself to him freely too, just so he could do whatever he wanted. She wanted to touch him while he touched her. Kissing wasn’t even remotely enough.

[…]

She wasn’t sure why but she associated the rain with him, not because it was cold or wet but because it had such a tragic beauty about it.

Growing old with someone required dedication, devotion, discipline, and most of all undying love for the other. They weren’t quite there yet, but she was sure she wanted more with him than just making out in the rain. She wanted more than suffering through trauma together, more than sex, and more than meaningful hugs. She wanted that, of course, but also the rest that came with love. The pretty and the ugly, the loving and fighting, the giggles, the laughter, and most of all, the happiness. She wanted to learn what it was like to be in love because she had no idea how to love, but she was willing to try, for him, because she was already in it. She was in love with him.

You’re already home // You’re already home

Anyway, thought this was beautiful, although the bridge is kinda sad but I thought about the love confession scene and wanted to do a little recap of my favorite scenes, so… have that. Good night!

Gonna tag the biggest Foreigner’s God supporters out there (so you guys see it first):

— @mrs-areallygoodlawyer @serenitroseyy @stilldreaming666 —

#matt murdock #foreigner's god #matt murdock x female!oc #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #daredevil fic #daredevil #matt murdock fic #already home #thought #lizzi talks #i wrote this instead of sleeping

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solar-halos · 1 year

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okay i need to stop posting in the middle of the night bc the last two times i did that i was doing entirely too much in the tags + posted a torso reveal (as if i’m not a pic of snoopy walking around going 👍) but i need to keep talking about lucy grays rainbow dress. so here’s an unasked for progress check + the inspo for the top i wanna crochet in case i wanna connect the skirt to the shirt to actually make it a dress lol:

okay i put a cutoff here bc i wanna rant but don’t wanna put such a long post on anyone’s dash <3. but for the top it was a toss up between a puff sleeve and a corset but i decided to go with the puff sleeves for a few reasons

1) it’s giving 1890s. not to sound like a nerd but i had a huge historical fashion phase when i was younger and i’m in love with the idea of lucy gray’s puff sleeves representing a different era (since, yk, ballad in general represents a diff era)

2) i’ve never crocheted a puff sleeve top before so it would be fun to try hehe (but i have crocheted a corset top and it does not Stay Up so, in the event that lucy gray was performing in an all-yarn outfit, that would not be very practical for her)

3) okay wouldnt the sleeves subtly fluffing around as she performs be kinda cute? obviously they’re not gonna be super fluffy or anything (just the amount of floofiness in the pic) but it’s kinda like a less intense version of the skirt ruffling

speaking of the skirt:

ohhhh my good. i alternate between loving and hating the white panels but tbh there’s nothing i can do unless i wanna drop an ungodly amount of money on a skirt that’s not even my style. but good thing it’s my sisters style (actually it might not be she looked at it and went “omg omg it’s so cuteee <3” and when i asked if she herself would wear it she went “o.o welll..” so maybe i’ll just have to do my hair and makeup entirely different to sell that this is in fact my style bc no way am i not wearing something i spent literal money + time on). sorry that was a tangent but it’s around knee length rn and i think i have enough yarn (of the rainbow color scheme and scrap yarn) to make it a bit longer. i’ve always envisioned lucy grays dress as a maxi, so maybe i’ll get one more skein of yarn at the end of the month since they’re having a sale. but the whimsy when it comes to wearing this skirt is unreal. like when i put it on i always gotta do a little spin to see the ruffles shift. and that’s actually another thing that makes me convinced that lucy grays skirt is a maxi bc making it into a mini skirt was atrocious. and that’s saying something bc if my entire ass isn’t hanging out of a skirt then what the fuck am i even wearing it for. but it just looked a bit strange and i thought it was bc there was SO much volume on top and it made me a look a bit disproportional, but once my mom stopped going “that’s a lot of colors going on” she had an answer that (while very crude.. and maybe a bit problematic) explained things:

“you look like a pedophile’s dream”

yeah. to be clear i don’t agree that women who dress in ruffles and pastels and things that are considered “childish” are trying to appeal to pedophiles, but keeping the skirt so short and colorful and ruffly made it look very Young. also making it longer added to the whimsy since there’s more fabric that swooshes around when you spin

okay i think i’m done. so thankful that i have tumblr now bc where else was i gonna rant about rainbow dress omg. but tbh i think i’m gonna take a break from making this before i get burnt out and finish a chapter for a fic bc the hg grind never stops. bye!!

#long post #sorry for ranting so hard #but there’s no way i’m telling the ppl in my actual life i am making something from the fuckin hunger games <3 #lucy gray why is your dress so hard to crochet </3 #crochet adventures #rainbow dress #kinda #it’s a skirt but i might make it into a dress later

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noratheelk · 1 year

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Forever angry that a bodily function I never wanted makes my existence shitty for a week every month

Angry because periods are the worst, I dread it so fucking much. every time, I feel like crying. It's the phycological equivalent of being continuously stabbed but no one else can see and you’re embarrassed about it. society and your own mind tell you it’s gross and if you talk about how uncomfortable it is or how you're in pain, you're deemed "emotional" or "hormonal" (yeah, man, you try having all your fucking hormones thrown out of whack because that's just how you were fucking made) and thus not worthy of attention or empathy. There's this insinuation that if you're hormones are unbalanced than nothing you say is reliable and you're reactions to things are disproportional. (This is made worse by its partial truth, it's very difficult to maintain your usual presence and impact when you don't feel the same, it feels like you're being ripped to shreds and if you complain, you're overreacting)

Stay silent and suffer alone.

Say something and you're:

Ridiculed by ignorant pricks.

Judged by ignorant pricks.

Or worst of all: someone thinks you're gross.

I don't have words strong enough to explain how it makes me feel when someone who has never bled says periods are gross. It's a violent rage, I very rarely feel violent but towards the people who make me feel gross (about something I already hate about myself) I want to hurt them, I want them to understand what they are doing to others because it's more disgusting than anything my body does.

#i’m angry #periods #menstruation #journal post #venting #tw periods

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baekhvuns · 2 years

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Rip Baek, they wanna make you an American football stan 🤡 I never understood Super Bowl tbh, some performances aren't even good anyway

Lol you're saying the Mbappe x RM saga will finally end? If he plays and behaves well be my guest, but it's on sight Kylian!!!

It's always sad seeing top players struggle in the NTs, because they're doing all the work. The disproportion is really big. I can't blame other players since a lot of them don't play in CL clubs, but it's so embarrassing sometimes 😭

So brother Baek could've been a cricket star?! Omg damn that injury sounds nasty though. I don't know shit about cricket actually. Tbf my wrist was already twisted because of another evil team ball sport called HANDBALL. My spaghetti arms couldn't take it lolol, I'm decent at basketball though! I did break two of my fingers while playing, but 😅

Pique thinks he's a spy or a detective trying to "expose" RM every 4 months, let it go... I can't believe Shakira got with him, girl??? I had to show some of the best football moments to my ignorant USA friend and I ofc sent her the Zidane headbutt and Suarez biting, culture <3

It happens every year so I don't think Salah cares? Good for him, but on the other hand I'd just stop posting at this point, cause the comments are getting worse and worse

Harry Kane being a disappointment isn't anything new lmao. Believe it or not, but I unfortunately have some Spurs fans among my friends and they're often mad at him

Omg, yeah see suddenly everyone knows everyone. Bestie I don't go to weddings, but I probably heard the songs you've mentioned, got me all curious 👀 Riverdale was filmed near you?! I'm so sorry, that's so bad 😩

Is the Yunho fic hot & cold too then? How's it going?

Hwa is a mystery, because no way he wouldn't be able to take Hongjoong down. Sometimes he does this though, soooo 🤔 runner Hwa AU... I'm manifesting

I hope Hwa will be able to attend EXO's concert 🤞🏻 I wouldn't mind a free ticket either, heh. Uhmmm wow, Neymar Jeongin stan... I better not see him at EXO World though

That radio clip of Seonghwa, I'm starting at nose ☺

Seonghwa stans Taemin and Taemin is Jesus, Taemin has passed his role to Seonghwa! But why did Woo say the choreography is tough, but Hwa said otherwise lmao. Maybe Seonghwa isn't doing anything 😭

Btw this person spoke the truth a fear, but they're booing them ausyshshjsjsjsbababsb. If they saw our opinions ☠ can't say shit on that app, because everything is anti behaviour

Halazia on the other hand seems nice, at least in contrast to Paradgim, idk if I'll be obsessed cause I'm used to them spoiling half the song so I'm not sure how I feel yet ajuduwuwsjjsjssjs, but everyone's already calling it SOTY ofc 😭 the performance spoilers what's going oooooon, feathers?! My issue is the cb is at 6am my time AGAIN???!!!! What happened to later comebacks, fuck America I know it's all for Billboard!!! 😭

LMAO gitl, so someone asked if the person on my lockscreen was my girlfriend??? And it's Christmas kitty Hwa I almost died

Oh he... yeah so anyway 🧍🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️

ALSO MINGI'S HAIR IS YELLOW AND RED AGAIN AAAAAAAA

Wait what's the god save the queen option about 😭 anyways I'm a communist, honestly I got called one more times that I can count so 🤷🏼‍♀️

Oh no Baeksy, HUI ON BOYS PLANET AS A CONTESTANT??? HE GOT RELEASED FOR THIS?! 😭😭😭😭🔪🔪🔪🔪 - DV 💖

hi helloo!!

Rip Baek, they wanna make you an American football stan 🤡 I never understood Super Bowl tbh, some performances aren't even good anyway //// Lol you're saying the Mbappe x RM saga will finally end? If he plays and behaves well be my guest, but it's on sight Kylian!!!

LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭 u will never catch me being one <3 id probably get whooped if i ever put on the american football in this ethnic household fbwndbej,,,, i AM SAYING PERHAPS partially bc at psg he gets the recognition and if he were to move it,,, he’d have to share it the spotlight but since he gets his fair share of it psg iM HYPOTHESIZING that he will not leave unless ronaldo pulls up that is dbd

and also pelé??? 😭😭🤚🏻 vivienne westwood???

yEAAAH! it’s cringe to even watch, i skipped so many of porto’s matches bc of it inconsistency in the plays and the ups and downs,,, if i compare them to argentina u could tell they all worked in a TEAM even if they got messi in, for porto it was like ronaldo was the only one being the definition of TEAM but when he’s benched it just crumbled,,, but i guess a lot of them have an experience now and hopefully put up a great fight next wc!

fhandhwk nO bc we were REALLY onto him being one but then everyone kept pressuring him saying you’d be on tv and then the ball hit his nose and made a bump on it and it was determined he would never <3 dbwnbdsn no its ok cricket’s like football, if u watch it u can tell exactly what’s going on! LMFAOOOO GTFO HANDBALLS SO MUCH FUN HOW THE FUCK DO U FUCK UR WRIST UP PLAYING THAT ANON U MUST BE TWISTING IT AND HITTING ALL THE SCORES 😭😭😭 ronaldo + lewa possessed u i tell u, STOPPP??? ANON??? I WISH U SAW MY FACE WHEN I READ THAT 😭😭😭 anon hOW stop did the ball jam really hard and ur body just gave up 😭😭

Pique thinks he's a spy or a detective trying to "expose" RM every 4 months, let it go… I can't believe Shakira got with him, girl??? I had to show some of the best football moments to my ignorant USA friend and I ofc sent her the Zidane headbutt and Suarez biting, culture <3

NO SRS I WONT BE SURPRISED IF HES SOME TABLOID SOLELY MADE TO EXPOSE RM 😭😭😭 no bc theres like compilations of shakira destroying pique’s emotions and its so funny to watch after the shit he’s done, deserved 🤩 RBQMDBWMCKCK STOP U SHOWED THE BEST THINGS STOP IT FNFNJCKC CULTURE !!!!! CORRECT !!!! literally no one remembers the winners it’s just the headbutt, he def cursed italy ever since dbdb did u show the pep ramos duo 🔫

It happens every year so I don't think Salah cares? Good for him, but on the other hand I'd just stop posting at this point, cause the comments are getting worse and worse

yeah!! like i get religion but ppl also celebrate christmas,,, AND halloween?? it’s not like he’s disrespecting his own religion?? bro just wants to have a good time 😭😭😭 he's having a great season so far too now!

Harry Kane being a disappointment isn't anything new lmao. Believe it or not, but I unfortunately have some Spurs fans among my friends and they're often mad at him Omg, yeah see suddenly everyone knows everyone. Bestie I don't go to weddings, but I probably heard the songs you've mentioned, got me all curious 👀 Riverdale was filmed near you?! I'm so sorry, that's so bad 😩

LMFAOOOO i believe it 100% bc my english cousins were like “disappointed but not surprised actually” 😭😭 omg u must’ve heard his songs! if u didnt go to a hindu wedding bdbd if u watched the movie happy new year? with srk, there’s a track called lovely i think he produced it, he’s worked w/ mr snoop before! tho is songs are primarily from early 20’s! YEAH TRAGIC !!!! ABSOLUTELY TRAGIC I TELL U, constant memories of im a weirdo 🔫🔫

Is the Yunho fic hot & cold too then? How's it going? /// Hwa is a mystery, because no way he wouldn't be able to take Hongjoong down. Sometimes he does this though, soooo 🤔 runner Hwa AU… I'm manifesting

it is hot & cold! banter and silly arguments and a reincarnation of betty white as yunho’s grandmother like the proposal <3 yEAH LIKE NO WAY??? is he just masking his strongness under the humble, nice, oldest persona,,, need him to throw hands,,, runner hwa au,, where he asks the ostracized, once track prodigy for help who shuns him away <3 readers older too!

I hope Hwa will be able to attend EXO's concert 🤞🏻 I wouldn't mind a free ticket either, heh. Uhmmm wow, Neymar Jeongin stan… I better not see him at EXO World though

I HOPE HE DO BC IM EXPECTING HIM TO BE THERE 🔫🔫🔫 BFMWBDKSBDKCKC free ticket is what im hoping for atm bc ik im not getting the tickets 😭😭 they do a raffle thing too all my hope is for that,,, FBWMBDWKKCKC neymar a kai stan?? 😵‍💫😵‍💫

That radio clip of Seonghwa, I'm starting at nose ☺ //// Seonghwa stans Taemin and Taemin is Jesus, Taemin has passed his role to Seonghwa! But why did Woo say the choreography is tough, but Hwa said otherwise lmao. Maybe Seonghwa isn't doing anything 😭

ANONNNN

taemin is the son of jesus, need to witness him live so bad ill make him my religion on spot fbfb SEONGHWA BECAME JESUS

i am gonna stop

i logged into twt and i

how

what THE fUCK

Btw this person spoke the truth a fear, but they're booing them ausyshshjsjsjsbababsb. If they saw our opinions ☠ can't say shit on that app, because everything is anti behaviour

they so brave for this bc its no one would wanna admit,, UTOPIA SUPREMACY!!!! LMFAOOOO the comment just under the post 😭😭😭😭

sEEE NOW its def better than paradigm, i do dislike the “hala hala hala halzia” i prefer just the “halaziA” they do with their voices and it’s oomph 🤌🏻 the beat at hongjoong’s rap was sICK,, for a moment the beat drop was like the same type of music as dazzling light bUTTT it was good!! jongho’s vocals great i do think mayhaps there couldve been a chorus where they all sing together and it would be chills w the drop,, it was an almost anti drop in the first half,, ur opinions on it??

LMAO gitl, so someone asked if the person on my lockscreen was my girlfriend??? And it's Christmas kitty Hwa I almost died //// Oh he… yeah so anyway 🧍🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️ALSO MINGI'S HAIR IS YELLOW AND RED AGAIN AAAAAAAA

LMFAOOOO RHQKDHQKHDKW UR GIRLFRIEND IS SEONGHWA !!!!! SCREAMING DHDJDJDJ£|€£\€\ IM NOT EVEN LOOKING AT HIM IM STUCK ON UR STORY STOP THATS HILARIOUS DHDJ

Wait what's the god save the queen option about 😭 anyways I'm a communist, honestly I got called one more times that I can count so 🤷🏼‍♀️

A COMMUNIST 😭😭😭😭 i am a christmas enthusiast <3 heres another!

Oh no Baeksy, HUI ON BOYS PLANET AS A CONTESTANT??? HE GOT RELEASED FOR THIS?! 😭😭😭😭🔪🔪🔪🔪 - DV 💖

NO CAUSE???? WHAT THE HELL???? 😭😭😭😭😭

bro’s acting

is this not ceo hwa

and im afraid that arrange marriage fic is topping the tier atm…

ikon freedom era and bp going black label?? what IS GOING ON BFFB

AND A POST MALONE SONG FOR ATTEEZ IM GONNA START SCREAMINNNNG oh its not with hwa 😭😭😭😭

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

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oliswamp · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 4

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out RPF: Tommy runs himself ragged and shows up to the meeting with Ranboo dead on his feet.

He can do this. He just has to drink this coffee and get some refreshments and he can do this. He can. He must.

“You okay, Tommy?” Ranboo asks through the headset. “You haven’t spoken in a while and—” “No, yeah, sorry, got lost in thoughts,” he answers half-honestly, and chugs the bitter drink, giving himself time to expand on his excuse. He comes up empty. “I think we should be wrapping it up boys.” A choir of yes’s answers him and he sighs in relief. He doesn’t think he could last another hour of recording.

He says goodbyes, closes the programmes and goes to lie in his bed for ten minutes. A power nap is enough. Must be enough.

His alarm rings all too soon and he goes back to working.

It’s several hours later when he closes his computer and goes out of his house. The fresh air is good at keeping him awake, as he ponders if he locked the door or not. Did he? He did. But did he?

He goes back to check.

Eventually he locks onto his destination and doesn’t stop walking until he’s there.

Ranboo. He promised him he’ll spend some time with him and he’ll be damned if he goes back on this promise, so he messily knocks on the door and hopes the man won’t notice anything amiss.

Just don’t fall asleep, he begs his body. Just a little more.

Just a little more.

There are floor creaks and sounds of footsteps and soon the American is in front of him, opening the door with a wide smile.

“Tommy! Just who I wanted to see today, man,” he says with an even wider smile, somehow.

Tommy tries his best to reciprocate. “Same to you, big man. Let me in!”

He settles in Ranboo’s house like it’s his own. And for sure it feels like it most of the time. Today though the familiarity is killing him, because his traitorous brain is asking him to just lay on the sofa and catch a wink of sleep. Even just a few minutes. Maybe a few seconds. Do it. Do it. Do it.

But he can’t do it, not when he promised Ranboo his time.

He steers clear of the sofa and instead takes a chair and sits on it backwards, as Ranboo settles in front of him and launches into an explanation of his latest project.

Tommy lasts embarrassingly short fifteen minutes.

One moment he’s nodding at whatever Ranboo is saying and the next he’s on the floor, tangled into the chair, with Ranboo looking at him with shock and worry from above.

Fuck.

He tries to get up by himself, but it proves no easy task. He struggles until finally Ranboo snaps into action and pulls him up.

“Are you okay?” he asks, as bewildered as Tommy feels. “What happened? You were fine a moment ago and now you’re—” He squints at him and Tommy can’t help but avert the gaze. “Were you fine…?” He nods. “Tommy.” Ranboo’s voice is stern and worried, and so so much different than usual. “Tommy what did you do.”

“Nothing,” he murmurs, collapsing back on the chair. Ranboo is still standing in front of him and it’s creating a disproportion he doesn’t like. “Nothing unusual.”

“Tommy.”

“I just slept badly last night, that’s all.” It’s a lie. He didn’t sleep at all last night. He spent it planning vlogs and future lore with Wilbur.

“Did you sleep at all?” Ranboo squints at him and it’s just so menacing that Tommy breaks.

“No… Please don’t be mad, I really wanted to spend time with you, I’m sorry I ruined it—” He’s tearing up, he’s aware, but he cannot stop the tears pooling in his eyes as he speaks. “Please don’t kick me out, I can still listen to you, I promise.”

“Tommy…” Ranboo’s voice is no longer stern, just worried and tender, oh so tender like only his friend is capable of. “How about instead you nap?” “But your project—” “Can wait, your wellbeing can’t.” Tommy opens his mouth to protest but the sound that comes out of him is cut off by the loud growling of his abused stomach. “And when was the last time you ate, mister?”

“Uh…” He genuinely can’t remember his last meal that wasn’t an energy bar with coffee. Apparently it’s clear on his face, because Ranboo purses his lips and turns around sharply.

“That’s it, I’m making you uhhh… I can make spaghetti. You take a nap in the meantime, I’ll wake you up to eat, and then you’ll sleep for real, got it?” he says, and before Tommy can protest, “Great. Off to sleep you go, take the sofa or go to the guest bedroom, but sleep.”

And with that he disappears in the kitchen.

Tommy is so lost. …but he knows when to yield, so he petulantly lies on the sofa and lets himself drift off for a short while.

#whumptober2022 #no.4 #DEAD ON YOUR FEET #Can’t Pass Out #RPF #real person fiction #fic #sleep deprivation #tommyinnit fic #tommyinnit #ranboolive #allium duo

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