#(partially inspired by that one scene in Easy Come Easy Go)
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Different Kind of Love (Chapter 1)
Cult Leader!Elvis x Y/N
Premise: AU, what if Elvis chose alternative spirituality over Hollywood.
Y/N is new to California and still finding herself, you’d only every known Elvis Presley to be a rocker, you had no idea what he’d become after finding a whole new way of thinking.
Warning: mild religious themes
Note: 1,900+ k words, Takes place in the mid 1960s
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Summer time in California. Your first time here but, you’d heard so much about the scene. Something special was going on. New music, new ideas, it was enough to get any young person to make a little pilgrimage. How could you stay away? Yes your family threw their worries. They said you’d turn into a useless druggie out there on your own. But you knew it was worth the hitchhiking that got you here.
The breeze, the sky, the beach, it all made sense why they called it paradise. You had plans to do some waitressing to pay rent to get you by but work wasn’t really on your mind. While you still had some cash in your pocket you found a couch half good enough to call home to tide you over.
You met beatniks, artists, every type of cat that hung around a club or two. But what made you feel most alive was a breeze in the dead of night that made everything go away.
“You haven’t heard of Elvis?” A voice suddenly brought you back to the present moment. Her hand had slapped the table in such a way that it was hard to ignore her. You shook yourself out of your passing thoughts. “Elvis. Come on now.” The woman across from you in this little coffee house not far from Hollywood had a face like a rat and a smile like a princess. She called herself Daisy. Sometimes Lavender, or Rose. As she put it ‘my flowers depend on the day’.
“Oh… yeah, of course I remember him. Still got a couple of his records,” you made a slight expression, “yeah, shame he never made any more music, don’t you think?” You pondered as you lifted a cup of coffee with too much sugar to your lips. You couldn’t help it, it’s how you liked it. Dark and sweet.
The woman across from you laughed right back, “oh, he still makes music alright,” she had a coy look on her face now, like she knew something you didn’t. Oh, she savored that too, you saw it on her lips.
“Don’t fool with me now,” you quipped back, “Elvis hasn’t laid down a track in years. He split with his manager and everything, it was big news.” You recalled the newspaper article clear as day, it was a big ruckus. Elvis Presley, rock superstar stepping back from the business, turning down a renewed contract.
“Go down Orchard Avenue sometime, hm? Sunday night, you might just hear something you like.” the flower girl sipped her black coffee as if she was in on a joke you wouldn’t get. People like her were the sort that knew everything. Also the type that made you feel like you knew nothing.
And if she claimed Elvis Presley still made music? That was enough to get you heading out to Orchard Avenue on a Sunday night.
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It was a time of night when things cooled down, where you could really smell the air. Daisy, Posey, Marigold, whatever her name was right now, she told you all about how to find this street. It wasn’t too far out from LA, closer to the canyons. You hitched a ride like always and found yourself walking down the road, halfway wondering if she was fooling with you. Just picking on the new girl for a laugh.
You were this close to turning back when you heard it.
A beat rocking, a guitar jumping. It sounded like gospel.
And attached was a voice you couldn’t forget even if you tried. From crickets populating the night to nothing but jive grabbing the night around you. It dragged you down from the well kept picket fences one block back to the wire fences with colorful fabric and prayers tied around the outside.
And the lyrics beckoned.
You got to sing you children sing
Sing you children sing
I only know one thing, hey! hey! hey!
Sing you children sing, everybody
Sing you children sing
Sing your troubles away
It came from a good house, one bought with good money. You didn’t know a thing about real estate, but this place cost at some point in time. Though some of the foliage had been allowed to climb the walls up to the balcony. Like arms outstretched.
The lights shown out from every window like it was a party. But it didn’t sound like one, there weren’t any fights or random shouts leaking out from the window sills. Just something like harmony.
You weren’t invited. But, you found for parties like this, less than half the people there were ‘invited’. The door was half open, they were in full swing. That was more than an invitation right? Surely they wouldn’t mind one more? That seemed the vibe you’d come across lately after all.
As you found your way through the well kept garden, down to the door, getting in was a little hard than you thought. Not because anyone was keeping you out, no. But because people were in such a frenzy. Praising and calling.
From the inside you saw some pictures hung of various religious figures, but too hard to make out to place any names. But then, your local preacher had something similar on his walls. Nothing wrong with that.
The parties you’d been to, involved people slumped over themselves doing cocaine and shots. But here, everyone seemed high on something else. Managing to get inside you saw the center of it all. All type of people your age, were hanging around, all hip and colorful. There was a man just by the wall, beating his guitar strings and singing out like it was a church service, right in the middle of the night.
It couldn’t be him… could it? There were too many jumping bodies near you, it was hard to get a look, you had to jostle and stumble to get a close enough look to the point where you tripped on someone’s jutted out leg and there you were landed just right at his feet of a man wearing a pair of perfect brown leather boots and a tall white suit.
You wondered if you ruined the night, if people would cast an ugly look… but the music didn’t stop. The only change was his now direct eye contact on you.
The last time you saw him was in a blurry picture in a newspaper article, a muddy sort of picture where you couldn’t make out a cheek bone from lips. But right here, right now. You saw it all. His black hair was just as tossed and falling down his forehead, his blue eyes just as twinkling like he stepped off an album cover.
God, his smile, a joyous smile as he ramped into another chorus. His hand reached out and helped you up. Like you had been here in the crew all along. His hips jiving and shoulders grooving, it was infectious.
You couldn’t help your own little smile and shake and response. He laughed for half a moment, enjoying your response to his call.
By the time it ended, you couldn’t help but give a semi curtsey to the clapping crowd as Elvis himself held your hand. “Ain’t she a natural, then?” He chuckled, “where’d you trip in from, honey?”
Usually you’d expect folk to get on with their own conversations, and a few did, but those closest to him stayed just as keyed in. You didn’t suspect anything for now, after all it was The Elvis Presley. Couldn’t blame them after a song like that.
“From the East coast… A girl named after flowers told me about all this, a real peach. Or, a peach blossom,” you pointed out, which got a big laugh from those around you. You’d never thought yourself to be funny. You’d never met a happier bunch. “I… Your’e really… Elvis Presley?”
For a moment the vibe around you shifted, as if you’d said something in another language that didn’t sit quite right with the locals. But when Elvis’s kind expression didn’t falter, the moment passed. “You’re a fan of my early work then, darling?”
“Ha, I, guess I am,” you admitted, “but this was, I tell you what, you were better than any pastor I heard in church.” This one got a better reaction from those around you.
One of the girls shouted out, “better than any radio!” With another, “better than any school teacher!” Thrown in by another in the crowd. They sure were enthusiastic at this time of night, you wondered how they did it.
“Better than god?” Elvis added on, which got a big laugh and a few whoops. Alright, flower girl had completely turned you in the right way, this was the best Sunday night since you got here.
You’d always hoped Elvis Presley had kept on with music, you knew that gospel had been a big part of his sound. So seeing him rocking out with a bunch of young people, doing some worship songs? Wasn’t that just about the best thing? And without the confines of a church it all felt so much more relaxed. It was a real scene to be in, that kinda space.
It was well worth staying for a while. Not that you could leave. It’s not like anyone was keeping you from going. But it felt like very step you took, someone else got to chatting with you. Or asking about your life, or what you enjoyed. At some point you thought you’d want to talk with Elvis again, who’d gotten to strumming his guitar for the delight of those closest to him.
Every now and then he shot a grin your way. But it seemed every one else was just too chatty to let you linger back to him.
By now a handful of people had headed out, the group had dwindled. You wondered, did they live here?
By the time sunrise was coming, you couldn’t believe it. That everyone was still just as energetic. Clearly you had a lot to learn about California. “Hey now,” Elvis truly was a savior right now, putting an arm around the nosey guy that had been chatting with you for too long. “Let her breathe, man, let her breathe.” He leaned his head towards you, “why don’t you catch a bit of sleep here, darlin’… we got the room, hm?” To which clear agreement was shown.
“Oh, I couldn’t, I’m supposed to go job hunting tomorrow, I gotta get myself going,” you tired to say, but clearly no one here would have it. Especially Elvis.
“Can’t go looking when your eyes are dark, can you?” The words got some snaps from the lingering folks in the room, a couple had passed out. You wondered if they had taken drugs or if they’d been awake for days. Either way, the fact that you’d only had coffee and a few bites today was hitting you and your knees were getting weak. Elvis must have noticed because he caught you before you could fall. “Come on now let me help you lay down…”
Your eyes went to the door. It was incredible to be near a celebrity but, shouldn’t you be heading out on your own? They must have known everything about you but, what did you know about them?
Elvis must have got your look because he turned your gaze from the exit and back to the hallway he was leading you down.
“Let me help you get some sleep…”
#elvis#elvis fanfiction#first multi chapter elvis fic lets go#cult au#(partially inspired by that one scene in Easy Come Easy Go)
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I have a Xavier request. I dunno if it’s been done (plus its a little cringe and a little cliche) but the ideas been stuck in my head for days - partially inspired by rose “paint me like one of your French girls” scene in titanic. Xavier asks to paint her nude or she asks. It can lead to anything I just need the idea out of my head. Another idea I had that could be linked or seperate is a reader with wings and Xavier is just like obsessed
By the way I love your work. Your JJ stuff too (goodness me) -
Anon 🐣
(Ps: have a high five 🖐️, m not keen on hugs)
my angel
xavier thorpe x fem!reader
summary: you want xavier to draw you… nude.
warnings: mentions of smut, no real smut, nudity, YOU HAVE WINGS!!!! (i pictured angel wings but go with whatever u want bae) xavier is in love with you
im combining this because omg imagine xavier drawing you and hes just obsessed with your wings and body… anyways imma get writing
initially, when you approached xavier about the idea of doing a portrait of you, he loved it.
considering he had done many sketches of your beautiful face, it should be easy.
but then you clarified what you meant.
“can you draw me like one of your french girls, xavier?” you mimicked rose from the movie, titantic.
you leaned against your boyfriend, your wings wrapping around him enough to make him flustered.
he spun around in his stool, his eyes full of admiration. he put his hands on your waist and brought you closer.
“you know i always draw you, baby.” xavier told you, referring to the multiple portraits he had done of you.
“what if i want you do draw me with my wings? with only my wings…” you trailed off. the look you gave xavier was suggestive and he couldn’t help but feel excitement.
so now, as you stood in front of xavier in nothing but a robe in the center of his dorm, he couldn’t help but feel flustered.
“where do you want me, baby?” you teased, seeing your boyfriend blush.
“how about you lay on the bed.” xavier grabbed a chair and brought it over. he watched as you gracefully dropped the robe before laying down.
his eyes roamed your naked body. he had seen it numerous times before, but for some reason this seemed more intimate.
“you’re so beautiful, y/n.” xavier whispered as he began to sketch.
you grinned at your boyfriend. he always made you feel special.
the focus look on his face as he drew you was enough to make you flustered. being so vulnerable while he memorized every part of you was intimidating.
“relax, baby. your wings are moving.”
xavier knew when you got flustered or embarrassed your wings would tend to show your emotions more than your face.
for instance, your wings had began to scrunch together instead of being fully displayed.
that’s one of the things xavier loved most about you. the way he could always tell how you felt by your wings.
he loved everything about you. he was quite literally smitten by you, ever since he first saw you.
you were never scared to be yourself.
xavier finally finished your face when he began to draw your boobs. the memories of him leaving hickies, kissing them, sucking them made xavier blush.
“what’s got you blushing, pretty boy?”
“you.”
“i’m not doing anything.” you laughed.
“you don’t need to. everything about you would make me blush.”
you couldn’t help but feel your own face warm up, wings clamping together slightly.
“babe.”
“sorry!”
➽─────────────────❥
“are you almost done? i’m half asleep over here.”
xavier laughed at your comment. he was just finishing the details on your wings, leg bouncing in anticipation.
what if you hated it?
“come look.”
you stood up from the bed, sleep in your eyes as you put on one of xavier’s shirts.
you sat on his lap as he showed you the drawing. your face turned in admiration as xavier watched your eyes light up.
“oh my god, it’s so pretty. like a renaissance portrait.”
xavier grinned, his big hands rubbing your bare thighs. “my angel, huh?”
you smiled, kissing your boyfriend.
“your angel.”
#xavier x y/n#xavier thorpe x you#xavier#xavier thorpe smut#xavier thorpe#xavier thorpe x reader#percy hynes white#percy#wednesday#xavier fluff#xavier thorpe fluff#you have wings#simpforboys#i need him
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This is completely unnecessary ( I'm really just sliding my Link Click rewatch notes into the tag), but for the fun it:
Hypocrisy is living a lie, but that doesn't make one a liar. So I got curious. Lu Guang's hypocrite label has been well earned, but does it cause him to lie? Is he a liar? I think fandom leans towards "no?," but let's find out anyway!
Provided below is a reference list of every last question Cheng Xiaoshi has ever asked Lu Guang in series (and I mean every question) + every answer Lu Guang gives. Color coded by response and explained when necessary. Season 2 opens the floor up to everyone.
Categories include Direct Answer, Non Answer, Half Truth, and Lie.
This post covers Season one. Season two is covered in a reblog below. The final tally is also in a reblog below for anyone who is just curious about that. Criteria below the cut.
Criteria notes: This list focuses solely on the act of lying to a trusted partner in response to a question asked. Keeping secrets does not, actually, count as lying, so long as you are honest about it. People are allowed a box of secrets and no one is entitled to the key. This compilation will also not dock points for the hypocrisy, or the uh..... questionable ability limitations. I will however, use the aforementioned knowledge as a basis for reasoning. This is far from scientific. Any conclusions I draw from the evidence can be challenged. Court is in session ⚖️
You will notice that there is no category for "truth." This is because all truths are covered by a "Direct Answer." "Direct Answer" indicates that Lu Guang is not hiding anything in direct relation to the question. In a "Direct Answer," he will answer Cheng Xiaoshi's exact question honestly. Nothing more required. Omission of extra knowledge is (frustratingly) allowed, because unless Cheng Xiaoshi has asked for that knowledge, it doesn't need to be given. So watch those closely.
Non Answer = an avoidance of the question with words or silence.
Half Truth = a partial, truthful answer to the question. The question asked for more/there is a second, hidden answer tied to the question.
Lie = an answer that denies a truth.
Color coding:
Present Question, Past Question, Future Question
Direct Answer, Non Answer, Half Truth, Lie
s1e1
Q. Any chances? A. Yes. But only one. (a non specific answer complements a non specific question. This sets the precedent for a direct answer. Keep an eye on how often it occurs.)
Q. Now, should I finish this spring roll? A. Hold on. Q. Hold on for what? A. unanswered
Q. How's it going? Are you satisfied now? A. *miserable sigh*
Q. Do I have a boyfriend or not? A. No.
Q. What is going on now? I did what you told me. What is the matter with him? A. Calm down. Repeat after me.
Q. What should I do next? A. You forget his words? Prepare the material.
Q. She just keeps doing this day by day? A. We said, linger no more around the past. (Every rule repeated will be counted as non answer if it avoids the question.)
Q. You mean the meeting at 9 A.M. tomorrow? A. Mn.
Q. It's midnight. Who? A. Leave it.
Q. Will they come back? A. ................. All right, go to sleep.
Q. When should we start? A. Take it easy. They're not all there yet.
Q. Then tell me how long I need to wait? A. It's a secret. (note: This is the scene that inspired all this. I feel CXS's frustration here so much. LG stressed that there was only one opportunity and that this is it, only to deflect every question. He even checks his watch because he knows exactly how much more time. Yet, this is a direct, honest answer. "I will not answer," is an answer. I hate him lol.
Q. In your opinion, if I really did something, will everything change because of it? A. You really didn't do something stupid, did you?
Q. I really want to know. How is she doing now? A. I said, never ask about the future.
Past Question(1) Present Question(6) Future Question(7)
Direct Answer (7) Non Answer (7)
s1e2
Q. Do you have any questions? A. What are their names?
Q. Why did they break off their friendship? A. Just do the job instead of caring about the whole story.
Q. If we disagree with each other some day, shall we break up, too? A. It's almost time. (to be quite fair, CXS deflects his own question with tomfoolery before LG can respond.)
Q. Is there really a secret recipe? It's just a pot of stew. A. Coming soon. (vague as hell, yet blissfully direct. wow.)
Q. Do we have any other chance? A. None. She's crying all night at home, not going anywhere.
Q. Can I go eat that for the last time? A. No!
Q. What should I say? A.....................
Q. What does it taste like? A If you dare change the photo shop into a noodle shop, I'll leave right now.
Past Question (1) Present Question(5) Future Question (2)
Direct Answer (4) Non answer (4)
s1e3
Q. A few words? That may affect the past. You sure about this? A. It will be fine. Nothing will be changed.
Q. Can I get rid of them? (regarding the glasses) A. There is nothing you can help with in the match. Just sit there till the end. (eeeeh. It's very long winded way of saying "no.")
Q. I can take photos right? A. Void. No time to answer. But it's telling that CXS was just advised twice to stay put and chill, but the moment he adjusts the script....? oof. not a good start to this arc.
Q. Did I just affect the historical track? A. Yes, you did. But the results have not changed.
Q. Is it in the plan? Should I play or not? A. The past has been disrupted by you. I can't foretell what would happen before they lost the game. ( ie. your call)
Present Question (5) Direct answer (4) Void (1)
This is such nice episode with such a clean tally. THE TRUST.
s1 e4 - The formatting on this one doesn't want to stick. If it still doesn't work... I'm sorry.
Q. What exception? A. At some point in time, there is an important node.
Q. Lu Guang, where are you? x2 A. silence <counted as 1
Q. You asshole. Where have you been? A. The client's words were written on the note. I didn't know where Qiao Ling placed it. (I'm calling bullsh*t on the silent treatment but you can read it as DA. So we will excuse the friendly, "you were deliberately tricking me"/"I'm not you" banter that follows (was it a question? subs say no.))
Q. Why? (in regards to the major node being unaffected.) A. Void. The chemistry teacher conveniently interrupts and gives his own answer… sure dodged that knife!)
Q. Liu Meng puts everything on her face, how could he miss that? A. Let the past be. We just need to deliver the words. Nothing else.
Q. She makes her steps first. What should I do? What should I say? A. Instructions given.
Q. Is that really okay to say so? Q. Will they eventually miss each other? A. Yeah. A. The result will not change as long as the node does not change. (1. I'm calling the second answer a half truth, because you can draw a yes/no conclusion about them missing one another. So it's not a non answer, nor is it direct. 2. CXS doesn't ask about the node again. He just says "okay. you're always right." like the angel he is.)
Q. Are you sure it's okay if I just repeat after you? A. Don't worry, the result will not change, even without any quarrel. (at this point CXS does question to himself why this mission is so weird. He does not question LG.)
Q. No matter how the process changes, they are all doomed in the end. Am I right? A. …..Past Question(1) Present Question(7) Future Question(2) Direct Answer(4) Non answer (3) Half Truth(2)
s1e5 (where your tally might differ from mine)
Q. Can you save my mum? Can you please let me save her only? A. All right. I'll tell you what you should do. (okay. okay. Let's chat. We can and should analyze this answer to hell and back. Originally I had this labelled as a direct answer, but if so....then this is a direct answer that CXS later sees as a lie. CXS was not in the wrong for that. This statement is a conceding and LG does follow through on this. However, LG at least partially believed that CXS's actions wouldn't matter in the face of a death node (the next question is my evidence, as is Emma in ep 11.) As much as I want to believe he had hope, I think the fear of changing things prevented true action. They hide under the table, the place where Chen Xiao survived. But then Chen Xiao's mom mentions the camera, and Cheng Xiaoshi goes to get it. LG is silent. They need that camera/photograph. He knows what will happen. Chen Xiao cannot die. His mom dies because she covered him. LG gave up before CXS did (and god, CXS stayed until her last breath.) This wasn't true teamwork. LG deserved the punch. Yet it's not a lie. He never said he would save her. So I'm labeling this as a half truth, for half sincerity.
Q. Will the earthquake never happen? A. *No answer and continued silence as CXS goes to get the camera; the earthquake happens. CXS is again asked to exit the photo.* (I do believe that silence betrayed CXS more than the conceding to help. It just sends the point home. I've got a lot of sympathy for both of their perspectives though.)
Q. Why do you lie to me? Why do you still want her dead? A. In order to make everything stay the same. (another answer you can analyze to hell and back, but I read it as complete and brutal honesty.)
Q. If I can't save them, then what's the point of delivering the words? A. Fool. I have said, past or future. Because we can't change the past. Don't question the future, as the future will be changed because of us. (This is the first time I think the rules really do serve as an answer if you read into it. LG also clarifies this statement as a proper, unprompted answer in e6.
Present Question: (4)
Direct Answer: (2) Non Answer (1) Half Truth (1)
s1e5.5
Q. Isn't this what you figured out at a glance? A. It's impossible.
Q. Can't you just figure out the old master's tricks by foreseeing the events that happened 12 hours after the picture was taken? A. That's such an intuitive detail. I still need you to visit the scene in person and become my eyes. (giggle snort at that face saving answer tbh, I kind of want to label it a half truth.)
Q. Where the hell did you go? A. *yaaaaawn* where are you? (the yawn is a direct answer /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ )
Q. What now? A. Stop. You're too early.
Q. Is this where it ends? A. It's not over yet.
Q. How is he still fighting? A. But what I'm seeing is what happened back then. (a polite way to say "I have no f*cking clue")
Q. I thought you always said never ask about the future? A. I'm here to keep an eye on you. (the áojiāo answer lol)
Present Question(7) Direct Answer(6) Half-Truth(1)
s1e6
Q. If you use your predictive ability to see from the surveillance video, how will it be like? A. Within 12 hours, all surveillance images within one kilometer, I can have a panoramic view of them. etc.
Q. Can you see Dou Dou? Who took him away? A. The one who took Dou Dou must have surveyed this area long ago. He used the surveillance camera blind spots perfectly.
Q. This time will I become a CCTV? A. Stupid. What are you thinking about? Just follow my instructions. (LG probably thinks that was a direct answer. CXS's face said it was not.)
Q. Where did they go? A. The second alley on the right.
Present question(3) Future Question(1) Direct answer (3) Non Answer(1)
s1e7
Q. Look at this. Can we find some new clues? A. It's possible.
Q. Where am I? A. I don't know. I couldn't perceive anything when you were unconscious. ( I am assuming that is truth. There is no reason for it to not be, unless secrets run deeper than we think.)
(and yeah, that's it for e7. CXS does make comments, but they aren't questions directed at LG. CXS is too busy being unconscious/ doing his best and LG is too busy being stressed/proud. Have I mentioned how much I love this episode?)
Future Question(1) Present Question(1) Direct Answer(2)
s1e8
Q. What do you think? Can we help? A. (to Xiao Li) I've looked at the general situation. I’m sorry, but this time, there's nothing we can do. (First Lie! First Lie! Though technically it was answering XL not CXS.....)
Q. Lu Guang, that's it? Did you see it clearly? A. ....... (QL shushes CXS for him.)
Q. Are you sure you saw it clearly? You rarely ever say no. A. Who was the one who wanted to take a break?
Q. What? You agree, just like that? Hey, wait a minute did you say help? This is clearly a deal, why should we do it for free? A..... (again, QL shuts up CXS first.)
Q. Is there no justice in this world? How could you beat up the person who's going to help you? (this isn't a valid question, CXS is just rambling aloud but uh.......... honorable mention. This is a line LTC and QJ really needed to hear lol)
Q. Then what am I supposed to do now? A. Try to create a situation where he wouldn't be able to attack.
Q. I forgot you had this ability. So, what exactly did Dong Yi say back then? A. I've already passed the message to Xu Shanshan.... *he reads the message* (that first line is what makes me question events in Dou Dou's photograph, but that's not the focus...)
Past Question(1) Present Question(5)
Direct Answer(2) Non answer(3) Lie(1)
s1e9
Q. Then isn't this because I....? A. Now is not the time to let your thoughts run wild.
Q. Eh, is there no other way? A. Unfortunately, that's the only way.
Q. Then what if I high-five myself and enter the photo...? A. You'll loose contact with me. If that happens, you won't know anything about what will happen in the photos.
Q. How is it? Did they catch that bastard? A. No. Lack of evidence.
Present Question(4) Direct Answer(3) Non answer (1)
2/4 questions are a flashback. Since the two act mostly separate in this episode.
s1e10
Q. How is it? Did you find a clue? A. Last night around half past one, a masked man broke into Xu Shanshan's house and attacked her. (with some intense speculation, this is a half truth, but I'm not going there.)
Q. Am I supposed to yell at myself? A. You accepted the arrangement, go on.
Q. This time can you let me take the lead? A. You? What do you mean? (this is not a non answer, because it directly asks for clarification of the question.)
Present Question(3) Direct Answer(3)
s1e11
Q Do you remember the message the murderer left when Qiao Ling last called Xu Shanshan? A. Yes.
Q. What if I'm the person who made an appointment with him? A. Are you saying that because of us diving back into the photo, we have created an alternate timeline? - CXS A. That's right.
Honorable mention 1:
Q. Didn't you say nothing in this world is an absolute? A. *too busy being in shock/getting stabbed*
Honorable mention 2:
Chen Bin: Even though you guys caught him, methods like this aren't encouraged. In the future, you have to let us know as soon as possible. LG: Oh, I'm sorry. We only just realized that he might come and cause trouble, so we took some temporary measures. (for the look CXS gives him at the easy dishonesty in this statement. It's almost a shocked Pikachu face lol. I kind of want to add that to the lie tally...... but it wasn't a question (and does lying to police count, let's be honest.) I'm adding it.
Past Question(1) Present Question(1) Direct Answer(2)
Final Tally:
Past Questions (5) Present Questions (50) Future Questions (14)
Direct Answers (42) Non Answers (19) Half Truths (4) Lies (1) +1 honorable mention
Not bad, eh? 42 direct and honest answers and 24 other. Honestly, that's impressive considering the circumstances. Of course, you can view these answers from different perspectives, or you can break them down further to nudge a half truth closer to a lie or a direct answer, for example.
It should also be noted that, in regards to Qiao Ling, Lu Guang also does not lie. He is very honest with her too. There is potentially one half truth regarding Xu ShanShan's photograph, but that is only speculation. (I wonder who proposed keeping her out of the ability loop? Even so, they probably just told her they preferred to work in secret. Not a lie.)
#my lc theories#i might have cried half way through this#telling your bffs you have a secret that you aren't willing to share#is obviously the ideal route#but that isn't really an option here is it#this could be useful if you write fanfic?#put this boy in situations and don't let him lie or tell the whole truth#shiguang dailiren#时光代理人#link click
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Writblr Introduction
After being around for a month now, it is time for a proper introduction.
I am Wynne, your queer 40 years old friendly neighborhood hag with a love for fantasy, sci-fi and romance. I am genderfluid, pansexual and probably aromantic and don't care about pronouns, so I react to she/her, he/him and they/them.
I had been writing since I was little, same with drawing, but whenever life became stressful I stopped with both because I get overstimulated and overwhelmed easy.
The last break from writing is now seven years? I think it is seven years, and happened because I got diagnosed inflammatory rheumatism at a young age. Yeah, I also never thought this is possible, but here I am. I have good days and bad days, and thankfully there is a treatment that works.
Coming back to Tumblr happened after I was like: I wanna write again, and my friend @pheita started bugging me to come back to Tumblr and that writblr is in her opinion still the best community even if things changed a lot.
I know, I am a discovery writer and my stuff can be pretty disorganized while I write. (I am not looking into a certain direction with a pleading look for handmade notebooks) With this, you have to deal with me jumping around in my own timeline. I am sorry for this, folks, that's how I am.
I also write for fun, because I love creating stuff in every shape or form.
Thankfully, I found a WIP fast, and it is also partially pheita's fault because she told me the idea of a nekomata necromancer and then the flashfic Friday prompt happened and I asked her if it is ok to use her idea, and she was like: yeah, go wild with it. So here we are. I am pretty sure she had a badass character in mind with this, and not what I made of Feyre.
Anyway, "Their Call For Home" is a high fantasy story with multiple POV's about a gang of misfits who happen to get entangled in the politics of the city of Mer'Teval and what the plan of the gods were for the city, only to become the leaders of a rebellion against the tyrannic new king.
It has two romance side-plots, a straight and a lesbian one, and comes with found family and accidental heroes.
I take some inspiration from Dragon Age, Elder Scrolls and various pen and paper games I used to play that were based on D&D.
You can find more here in this intro and masterpost.
My other WIP is called "Moon Daughter" and you can find the WIP Intro here. It is a werewolf romance/supernatural romance story about Mika who learns she is a werewolf by birth and also the lost daughter of an alpha whose pack tried to find her since she got born but couldn't until recently. With her father dead after an attack, the pack now needs her to be the leader and she has to learn how to be a werewolf and the pack leader in lightspeed.
Things you can expect from my writing in general:
I don't ignore the facts of life, therefore my characters will endure bad things which means there will be mentions of events like emotional abuse, physical abuse, toxic relationships, neglect, and violence. Don't worry, I will warn beforehand in a post if those things appear
Sex is part of life, and you can bet your phones on me writing NSFW scenes when I see them fit. I am also not fond of too many of them in stories, so you don't need to worry about my stuff being erotica in disguise. IF I write erotica, I mark it as such.
A wild mix of straight and queer couples, and heck, even if the couples might be physiological a male and a female doesn't mean it's straight. You know, what I am talking about.
Found families, family clans, out of the box relationships of all variations, if I feel fancy there might be a play on soulmates
There will always be cats in some shape or form. I love cats
The characters having a varying age from early twenties to mid-forties.
Besides writing, and drawing if you read closely, I love videogames (thanks to my dad I grew up on every damn console that was out there), my little balcony garden, crocheting and knitting even if knitting can be pretty hard in my hands because of the damn rheumatism.
I have a thing for viking vibes (you could guess from my username), love Lord of the Rings and plan to turn my apartment into a little hobbit hole one day.
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what was the TPP moment that gave you the most writing fuel? one that still rly sticks in ur head. (feel free to ramble)
Gosh, that's both super hard and super easy to answer! Twitch Plays Pokemon has had SOOOO many memorable moments that immediately come to mind that have captured my imagination or turned into a major part of my lore, there's just too many to name. However, there's a lot of moments that mean so much to me but I haven't written anything (or at least not published it) about those moments. I think I have fics either plotted out in my head or partially written for just about every single Randomized Run we've done because rattling the formula always brings out some of the coolest concepts and creativity within the community. Like I have an entire backstory and character arc for Lorekeeper James from Randomized Alpha Sapphire, which a lot of people fell in love with this random Bug Catcher suddenly getting boss music. Or when Trevor in Randomized Y turned out to be the Flare Admin we had to fight at the Poke Ball Factory, but then we had a crash and my heart just breaks thinking about the scene afterward where we went "back in time" to before all the kids met up at the park. And now Trevor, Calem, and Venus all awkwardly trying to pretend nothing happened while staring each other down with the utmost scrutiny as each wonders if the other two is aware of what happened. But don't worry, all this causes him to have a bit of a breakdown and soul searching before turning against Team Flare to go rescue Abomasnow. Or even as recently as Randomized Violet+ and how I've been a bit obsessed with Terra and her misadventures for the last few months and her showing up again as the host for Super Gauntlet Ruby is not helping that. Heck, Randomized Platinum was probably the biggest world building run for my lore it's one of the three establishment fics I've had partially started that I feel needs to be either written or fully explained to point to why the Haji TPP Verse is the way it is! And hhhnnngggg.... so much more...
Of course there's also a difference between the lore to come out of things (which I've written for after being inspired by other authors or artists in the community) and the onscreen moments that seemed to change everything. And while I have a lot of runs I love, a few I can point to as "THIS still hits hard" are things like my very first fanfic I posted to the TPP subreddit was in the aftermath of Leech King's death. I remember being at work, plotting out an entire series that would follow Abe and the others trying to get to the bottom of who had her murdered and why, having Alakazam and Venomoth that joined around the same time being hired detectives, and ICU coming into her own as the heir to the throne and whatnot, but it didn't get very far and even looking back was pretty bad writing. I did eventually get around to writing the post game like I wanted with my Much Ado About Blue series so that's definitely continued to be a wealth of writing fuel. Heck, when I started my Connections series, the inspiration was from Faba kicking our ass eight ways to Sunday in Waning Moon and the feeling there was probably a personal connection there. But I literally only planned for like seven chapters if even that because I didn't expect myself to start novelizing the run as a way to lead up to that moment. Originally the plan was to skip between certain cutscenes to establish lore on Quips. (My doc is still simply labeled "Hau" even though the story has grown since then.) But for moments? I mostly do angst and dramas anyway, but one piece I'm rather proud of and STILL upset about is my short for the ending of Pyrite. Ugh, the bitterness and how everyone and their dog had an opinion on the ending of that run and poor Eeyup getting dropped after we finished instead of getting some kind of proper send off or victory lap. Or on the note of Evan and Azure, this spur of the moment piece that's kind of hinted at. I love when I'm archiving runs and something comes up like a Glitch or crash, or something so unexpected I just INSTANTLY get the idea and need to write a short for it.
But I must say when I read this question, the first thing that came to mind was my novel for Blazed Glazed. Holy crap, this Run changed a lot of things for me. For one, being an original ROM hack means there's an entire world that has been a fountain of writing fuel for me I intend to get back to eventually. Who are these original characters? What is their story? How does Tunod work? How does it connect to other games it made a guest appearance in? Team Fusion showed up in RW2 meaning there's a whole history there with these guys. I made special edits of the Team leaders. It's kind of insane because I had written stuff for other runs before, obviously, but this was like all consuming on my brain. And you know what started it off? ...I started watching the VODs because it seemed like there wasn't much talk about it for me to know what was happening. We got our starter, met with THE INVENTOR, met Blake (our NPC partner for the long haul) and suddenly there was a Glitch. I was already intrigued by the opening, but when the Inventor was supposed to follow and instead became frozen and uninteractable, my mind started running. I paused my viewing and started writing. It's by far the longest series I've written and what made it so fascinating in a way was writing as I watched meant there are several points I didn't know where the story was going. So I may plan on something, but then it didn't turn out that way so how do I rework the script to account for the unexpected character appearances? Freezes? Glitches? How about a random detour to find specific teammates? And don't get me wrong, like most games, the actual plot can seem vague or even silly in the writing sometimes, but then that makes it fun to try to flesh out what the deeper reasoning could be for why something is happening? And then tying it into the larger TPP universe has just been... ahh~ <3
Anyway, this has gotten really long but I hope that answers your question. I'm sorry this kind of turned into one big shameless plug. Dang I've written a lot, but I love this fandom so much. I can't even ;w;
#twitch plays pokemon#haji babble#questions#This was such an interesting dive through memory lane for me#thank you
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Fool For Love
Pairing: George Luz x Female OC
Word count: 5144
Tone: Friends to lovers, pining, angst, late-night phone calls, risky decisions, is it too late?
Summary: She’s more than a little tired at work, but then he comes on the line, after all this time, and she can’t hang up. They get to talking about their days in the war and upcoming reunions, and as it becomes increasingly clear she is hiding from him (and everyone), he resolves to bring her back to them as best he knows how—with his unerring love.
Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @thoughpoppiesblow @victoryrollsandredlips @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @mgdln97 @tina1938 @drinkwhiskeyandsmile @ask-you-what-sir @indecisiveimpatience @whovian45810 @brokennerdalert @holdingforgeneralhugs @onlyyouexisthere
I originally wrote this with Nixon but found it worked much better with George; I was also inspired to write more of George and Talbert’s friendship by the scene in “Points” where they play cards and George’s soothes Tab’s unease. This is also partially a fix-it fic, I must admit, because Talbert all but disappeared from Easy post-war. In this fic, he sticks around.
"Yes, that's exactly it."
George peered down the hall, spying the phone that was usually latched neatly over the kitchen counter now placed to Talbert's ear. His friend nodded slowly, listening to the speaker on the other end.
"Right, you're... busy."
A muffled something from the other end that might have been 'got to run' or 'give him my love', George couldn't quite tell. Tab swiveled, shuffling over the threshold into the hall. He peered one way, missing the eavesdropper, then spotted him down the other. Waving George over, he pressed the phone to his shoulder.
"Somebody from Easy's on the line. Come say 'hi'."
George grinned. It would be good to hear from one of the guys. The annual reunion was swiftly approaching, and the time of year had rolled about when he really missed the men and the camaraderie they had shared. Sloughing off his jacket, he draped it over the countertop stools as he came up to the phone. Tab held up a finger as he fronted an introduction.
"Yeah, hey, do you have another minute?" A beat, listening. "Great. I've got somebody here who wants to speak to you." A half-smile. "Yes, it's George. Uh-huh. Okay. Talk soon."
"Heya."
Silence for a beat and George had made up his mind to repeat the greeting when:
"Hey, George."
His heart leaped into his throat, and he smoothed his palm over the receiver, swallowing hard.
"Leah." He pinched his nose. "Uh, Corporal Hedgecomb."
"Hey. Hey, how are you?"
"Good." Better now that I'm hearing your voice again.
Had she always sounded this weary? For most of the war, yes, he remembered well, but he would have thought peacetime would restore her spirits and vigor. He missed the lightheartedness she'd born all throughout Toccoa and Aldbourne, despite Sobel, despite the war, despite the back-breaking sexism she had to carry on top of it all every damn day.
"Look, George, I'd love to chat, but I'm real busy-"
"Please don't go."
He could almost picture her pursing her lips, those sweet lips, the ones he should have kissed so long ago.
"Oh, alright."
She leaned away from the receiver and called to someone nearby, her voice distant as she pleaded with an apparent coworker to take up her station for another few minutes.
"I can stay a little longer."
"Good. Great." He searched for something to say that wouldn't scare her away. Realizing too late he hadn't returned the cordial question, he extended it now: "How're you, Corporal?"
"Busy," she said, and it seemed almost a joke but for the strain present in her voice when she answered. "It's not bad, though, work keeps me occupied."
He smiled fondly down at his shoes. "You haven't changed, then."
"What do you mean?"
"You said that a lot back in, uh, Mourmelon, and Hemmen."
"Did I? It seems like so long ago."
"But not long enough."
They both knew he meant the absence of war, not the distance its end put between them.
"Hear-hear. Oh, and George—you don't need to call me ‘Corporal’. We're not in the service anymore."
"Ah. Right."
A few seconds as George considered whether or not to just be out with it already or mention something less monumental. On one hand, he was running out of time, on the other, he could mess this all up with three little words and listen to the phone click off, his ardor dismissing him from her cares.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Leah asked, soothing the tension steadily rising like a high tide up to their chests and their hearts.
"It's good to hear your voice."
"Yeah, yours, too."
He glanced at a split envelope on the counter and gathered a question he hadn't realized was burning him up until that very instant.
"About the reunion...?"
"Yeah, yeah. I got your letter, and the one from Sink, with the fancy seal and the flag stamp and the big, official heading-"
"You're not coming."
A long, long pause, broken only by a sigh that barely bled through the wiring.
"Yeah."
"That's not really an answer, Leah."
"No, I'm not coming."
"Why not?"
"I- it just doesn't- it wouldn't work out."
George squared his jaw, scared she was implying what he feared she always might.
"I mean, business really kicks up around here this time of the year, and I don't know if they can spare me. Not that I'm vital to the department, or anything, but any personnel they can keep will help."
"Uh-huh."
At her slow sigh, he gathered she'd easily picked up on his skepticism.
"What's the real reason, Leah?"
She didn't answer for a good fifteen seconds. George attended his watch to distract himself from the weight of her silence.
"George, I'm sorry, but d'you really think any of the fellas wanna remember they served with a broad? No."
"What? That's bullshit! Why the hell would you think that?"
"Watch your mouth, buster, you're a bad influence."
"What?"
"If you go off like that, I'll do it, too, and I can't be swearing like a sailor anymore. I've gotta be all proper in the office."
"What about out of it?"
"Since when am I ever not at work, these days?" She scoffed wryly, drily. "Nevermind."
"Corporal Hedgecomb, I swear to God, if I have to send Bill Guarnere and Babe Heffron to kidnap you from whatever martyr's pit you've dug for yourself, I will."
She managed a chuckle, and he could tell it was more for his sake than her own. "Nah, no more foxholes for me. Or for you."
"Or Bill or Babe."
"Don't send them," she warned. "They've got families of their own, right? Kiddos to tend to and others on the way, not to mention their wives, the lovely ladies with enough smarts to handle the three brain cells those two split amongst themselves."
George snorted. "So, no envoys. Alright, I'll drive up there myself and take Perconte with me. God knows he could use the break. Can you believe he doesn't even get Christmas off?"
"No!"
"I know, right? It's the post office, not the goddamn army-"
"No, no, it's not..." Leah audibly cleared her throat. "I meant about you, um..."
"Oh."
"What I mean to say is it's alright. I don't need the persuasion in person."
"Without it, you won't come to the reunion."
"With it, I'm more likely to stay put. So we're at an impasse."
"Alright, fine, but still, you never answered my question."
"Your question?"
"Why the heck-" He hoped she was smiling. "-would you think the men wouldn't want to remember you?"
"... If I was a man, it'd be different."
"Yeah, no shit, but I just don't get it, Leah. You were everybody's sister, cousin—heck, mother. Without you, Jackson wouldn't still have his face and Hoobler would be missing a whole lot more than a foot."
"But-"
"No. You really should come, doll, you haven't been to the last two."
"And nobody but Lip's seemed to care," she blurted in a voice small even for her five-foot-one frame. "Ignore that, please."
"No, I definitely will not." George glowered at the begonias in the calendar that hung opposite the kitchen counter. "Whoever told you I didn't care is a lying sonuva-"
"George."
It was by her tone that he abruptly understood: no one had imposed this opinion on her, she had conjured it for herself.
His cheeks flamed, akin to his heart. "Goddamnit, Leah, the only people I care as much about as you are Tab and Lip, and you know with them, it's not- it's not the same."
He knew he'd said too much when she didn't try a joke or a chuckle or even a dismissive cough. Instead, she remained silent. A muted voice, another woman's, asked her something and she replied she'd be there in a minute. Her voice returned to him as she brought it back to the receiver.
"I know you tried to find me, once."
George tried and failed to steady his breathing. He hoped Leah couldn't hear just how anxious he'd become.
"How'd you figure that out?"
"You sent Lipton to my door with the biggest bouquet in the state of New York. Now, I've never seen a man more committed to his wife than the good lieutenant, and he doesn't even live up here. What the hell could he be doing so far north other than carrying out some favor for somebody we both knew?"
"And you figured it was me?"
"I didn't have to think too hard on it once I saw the flowers."
"You remember them?"
"They were lilacs, George," she all but whispered. "You're the only one I ever told about those being my favorite."
George sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his shoulders stiffening as the breeze against the roof of his mouth went straight to his brain.
"Lip told me you'd just about vanished."
"I wasn't home that day."
A frown creased his brow. "But you saw the flowers."
"A neighbor did, out the window-"
"Don't lie to me, Leah." He set his jaw, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "You never were a good liar."
"Fine! I was there and I didn't open the door. Happy?"
"You hid from him."
The accusation caused her to deflate, signifying its truth. He could sense the change even from the receiving end, her face invisible to his eyes, miles and miles away.
"I thought it was for the best-"
Feeling unable to endure another voice crack from the cage of weary isolation Leah had forced herself into, George interrupted.
"The best? For who?"
"For you!"
"But not for you."
She choked on her words and coughed to regain them.
"I'm not some pretty little housewife, George!” she cried. “The war was the only time in my life I felt reasonably put together, and like I could do something. Even better, something worth doing. Really, I don't know what I expected, after it was all over. I can hardly keep myself afloat, nevertheless- no, shit, no, pretend you didn't hear that."
"So that's it." His finger, twirling the spiraling cord around each knuckle, stilled. "You won't come because you don't want their pity."
"Or yours," she reminded with a sternness he knew she rarely possessed. "I want them to remember me better."
"If they can't see you're still our beloved-" My beloved. "-Leah, with a chocolate bar always at hand for some poor homesick sap and the best hugs in the company, then they've all gone crazy and they don't deserve the honor of knowing you."
"The honor?" She scoffed. "Come on, George."
"I mean it. They'll be glad—no, overjoyed—to see you, and if they're not, then- then I'll-"
"What am I supposed to do, pretend everything's fine? While they're off getting married and having families and buying houses and securing steady, profitable occupations, I'm wasting away in the middle of fuck-all nowhere, so far up New York state, you'd be surprised it wasn't Canada, trying not to end up on the streets and so bitterly alone I've started writing poetry! I’m writing sonnets, George, sonnets!”
Leah laughed a sob. George was already reaching for his car keys.
"I'll be there tonight."
"What?"
"I will be there-"
"No. No, you won't."
"Yes, I will. I don't care if it's a five-and-a-half-hour drive. I don't care if you're scared. I don't care if I'm the last person you want to see."
Silence for long enough he guessed she might have hung up. He'd begun to fiddle with the left cuff of his button-down when Leah finally spoke.
"You know how long it would take you to get here."
"What kind of enamored moron would I be if I didn't?"
She laughed, and George wished he could believe it was the call signal that made her sound so hopeless.
"Only if you bring Tab along with you," she said, and he got the sense she was only playing along. "Roll down the windows, the fresh air'll do him good."
"It's December. He'd rather sit in a sauna for five hours."
"Remind me why he still hasn't moved out to California yet?"
"Me," George joked half honestly. "But hey, you're getting me sidetracked. So I'll bring Tab... anything else you want me to pick up on the road?"
"Um." A pause, amid which he could guess she tried to swallow but found her throat too dry. "No."
"If you say so." He checked his watch again, something of a nervous habit. "Y'know, I could probably make it in five hours. The traffic's bound to be lighter the later it gets."
"Uh-huh. You might have to wake me, depending on how late you get here."
"You won't wait up?"
"I work three shifts for two different jobs, George. Sleep is a blessing."
"Right." He swallowed. "Well, you can call in sick tomorrow. To both jobs. And maybe for all the days after that."
"No. No, I can't do that."
"You don't think I'll actually come."
"No, I don't, because I'm really not worth the trip."
Her words sounded like a hammer falling upon a bare anvil, the elements rebounding off of each other with a deafening, heartwrenching clang.
"Leah?"
"Yeah?"
"There's one thing I won't stand from you, and it's that kind of bullshit."
"Wha- what?"
"Don't ever talk like that about my future Mrs. Luz again."
She inhaled sharply into the phone. George squeezed his wrist and prayed that what he was about to do wasn't the most reckless undertaking of his life.
"I'll see you tonight. Probably with a ring. No, not probably. Definitely."
Leah squeaked.
"Damnit, I love you, and I'm not about to stand here while your neverending, wonderful, harmful selflessness keeps you away from the great thing we could be. And from your friends! And happiness! But mostly me. Because I'm selfish like that. But hey, if it means saving you-"
He squeezed his eyes shut, his heart pounding against his ribcage.
"-then I'll be the most selfish man in the world."
"George-"
"I love you. See you in five hours."
He shoved the phone so jaggedly into its cusp that he missed the latch entirely and the implement took a bungee jump toward the kitchen floor. Yelping a curse, he swung it back up and placed it where it belonged, stepping back from the counter with a long sigh. He glanced at the liquor cabinet above the sink in wistfulness but didn't bother to address it further. He'd drive better if he could see straight. Still, the thought of going to her like he'd wanted to all these months and the absurdity of what he was about to do combined were more than enough to make him dizzy. Tab might have to take over for the last of the journey—or, even better, the first, the middle, and the last.
Speaking of the devil's best friend, he'd vanished upstairs to the third-floor study. He never listened in when someone made phone calls like this, even if they were from his own line. Kind of funny, how George wouldn't think twice about eavesdropping whereas Tab went out of his way to avoid overhearing.
"Floyd! Floyd, get down here!"
Swift, steady footsteps, barely preceded by the scrambling scuffs of a chair being shoved backward.
"What is it?" queried his friend from the top of the stairs.
"No time to explain, just get down here!"
Tab proceeded to make his way speedily down, taking the steps two at a time. He followed George around the corner to the garage door, calling his name with another question mark to follow when he received no direct answer. George spun the car keys around so they pressed into his palm, feeling the metal indent his skin as he opened and pushed through the narrow aperture.
"I'm going to go bring my future home, and you're coming with me."
Tab's sigh was almost feigned as he reached back through the doorway to retrieve his coat as well as his friend's. "George, it's almost seven p.m. And I have work tomorrow, as do you."
"So? Love won't wait, my friend." He twirled the keys again and tossed them over the hood of the first of the three vehicles before them. "Besides, you get to drive."
Tab shook his head. "I get to?"
George flashed him a lopsided smile and slid into the passenger's seat. After a beat's more hesitation, his friend followed his prediction and joined him in the car. Tab turned the ignition and they each settled into their accommodations, preparing for the lengthy drive ahead. The garage door rumbled upward—only the most up-to-date technology for friends of the Nixons—and they pulled out into the fading light, the wet afternoon bleeding into a thankfully drier evening.
"How much did you have to drink before deciding on this mad chase?" Tab asked as he leaned over the backseat to watch where he was reversing.
"None."
"None?"
"None," George repeated, and whatever he'd mustered in his tone to guarantee the truth softened something in Tab's tired eyes. His friend sat up a little straighter, and the energy so often sapped from him by hours clerking behind a desk began to return in increments as they drove. At first, they spoke of the usual things; the clearing clouds, an unruly driver here and there, the meaning of life and what changes peace had brought to their world in the past three years.
"Three," George mused after a time, "isn't that a strange number to decide on a reunion? One, I understand for a high school, two for a college, but three doesn't fit anything. A birthday, maybe, but-"
"It's one for me," Tab reminded him with no shortage of gentle reprehension. "I skipped the last two."
"So did she. But she won't be skipping this time, and neither will you."
"... Yeah. About that—what's your plan, here?"
"With what?"
Tab glanced off the road for just an instant to shoot George that disbelieving eyebrow that had always been able to pry any damn thing out of him, all the way back to Toccoa.
"I know, I know, with Leah." George swallowed. "Leah Hedgecomb."
"Yeah, with Leah."
George waved his hand in front of his face as if reading aloud a banner. "Hopefully the future Mrs. Leah Lowry Hedgecomb Luz." He couldn't help a small smile. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" He snapped, remembering something vital to his mission. "Oh, shit, right, I've gotta get a- Why are you looking at me like that?"
Tab's spine had gone so taut, it almost seemed to be imitating the straightness of the lampposts they were driving beneath on this long, northbound route. The light from each lamp faded into and back out of the car within a half-second. Once the darkness of the night truly settled it, they would seem ever the brighter and the quicker, keeping the men awake and alert but allowing them no more than a passing glance at each other's expressions.
"Does she know that?"
"Know what?"
"That you're gunning for her to be your wife?"
"As of, uh-" George studied his wristwatch. "-an hour and ten minutes ago, yes."
"Jesus Christ."
His daredevil friend gave a low whistle. "Well, now I know this is a crazy plan. What else could make the pious Floyd Talbert take the savior's name in vain?"
"Oh, come on, Luz. Me? Pious?"
George snickered, and Tab sighed.
"Look, I'm sorry, but you gotta admit this is nuts! You're in love with a woman you haven't seen in a year—a woman who's been purposefully avoiding you, I might add."
"She loves me, too."
"What?"
"She told me back in Austria the day she left." George thumbed his belt loops anxiously. "She told me she loved me and I oughta come find her after the war if I felt the same."
"And you did, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but we never spoke of it again." George licked his lips, then confessed, "I have to believe she meant it. It's all I've got, Floyd."
"You need to stop for a minute and think this through."
"And you," his determined compatriot contested, "need to shut up and turn left."
"Why?" Tab asked, nonetheless rounding the requested corner.
"Because we need to make a detour to Cartier before they close at eight-thirty, and right now, it's eight-o'-one."
"Woah, woah, woah."
Tab pulled over to the side of the otherwise empty street. He shifted the car into park and turned as fully as he could in his seat toward George.
"Are you serious about this?"
"Floyd," George replied softly, almost timidly, "this is the first time I haven't second-guessed myself in three years. Yes, I'm serious."
His friend considered, glancing out the windshield onto the pavement and gravel of the road and its side.
"Besides, this is partially your fault."
"What?"
"You know I've loved her since Benning."
Tab's brow twitched. "Well, yes..."
"And you put me on the phone with her just like that, like you knew it was the best thing for us both."
"Um..."
"Come on, Floyd," George pleaded, flashing a smile, "help me out just this once-"
Tab visibly stifled a snort of laughter.
"-and you can be the best man—nay, the officiant—at our wedding."
"Sometimes, I think you've finally gone mad." Tab smiled as he shifted the car back into drive. "Alright. Let's go get the ring, and then the girl."
George let out a whoop, tossing his hands up and smacking them on the ceiling. He winced, shaking out his fingers, though his grin never faltered.
"By the way, I meant it, about the wedding."
"I'm not ordained."
"So? I don't particularly care what denomination ya are, so long as you can marry us."
"... I don't know if that's legal, Luz."
"What, freedom of religion?" His friend shot him a skeptical look. "So sayeth the Quaker's best friend."
"What- George, he's not-"
Tab huffed and went quiet, giving in (and up).
"I'll look it up and figure it out when we get back," he relented. "Dick probably knows something or somebody..."
George smirked, turning his face toward the window to hide the true warmth of his enthusiasm.
"Yeah. He prob'ly does."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leah meant to stay up, to wait. She knew she'd feel like the worst idiot in the world should morning come and she was still sitting in her dark living room, alone; nevertheless, she allowed herself hope and trust for the first time in many years. She tried to keep her eyes open, but seeing the toll of midnight after a sixteen-hour shift proved a difficult task, and she drifted off in her old, raggedy armchair with a blanket over her legs and one shoe half-off her foot.
When the rapping on her door startled her awake, it was precisely 12:46 a.m. When she stepped up to the door, it was 12:50. When she gathered up enough courage to actually turn the knob and pull, it was 12:52.
"-so let's just go and come back in the morning, she's clearly not-"
The two men standing under her porch light, their heads and shoulders dusted with snow, froze and stared at her. Talbert's hand dropped from the back of his neck. George looked like he was trying to convince himself she was more than a memory.
"... home."
"George?"
He stumbled forward and she couldn't help but lurch into his embrace.
"What- what are you doing here?!" she gasped, wide awake now that he was really here with her, his arms sending shockwaves up and down her body. "George, you drove all this way?"
"I drove," Tab suggested sheepishly, raising his hand in a sheepish wave, and Leah forced herself to let go of George to hug him.
"I didn't believe- You actually- How? Why?"
"He loves you," Tab chuckled, nodding at George. "Thought that was pretty clear by now. You mind if I come in? I thought it couldn't get any colder than Rhode Island, but sheesh, New York's something else..."
Leah started nodding without really understanding what he'd asked, and he started humming “White Christmas” as he stepped past her and into the semi-heated house. Left alone on the porch, George and Leah stared at each other for a beat. Once they'd remembered the other was truly here, they all but leaped back into each other's arms. Leah's chest felt tight. She heaved each exhalation into his shoulder like it just might be her last. How long ago was it that such a fear could become their reality at the drop of a hairpin, or, in their case, the flick of a grenade pin? Too recent, too fresh.
"Hey, hey, catch your breath," George said, stepping back to cup her cheeks in his hands, scanning her face worriedly. "You cold? You want my scarf? My coat? My sweater? Hell, I'll give you my socks, if you want, though I don't think you do-"
"You came."
"Of course, I came," he cut himself off. "I brought Tab, just like I promised, and a ring to boot."
Leah flushed. "You didn't."
George dropped down on one knee.
"I did."
Leah squeaked. George beamed to hide the terrific pounding of his heart.
"Leah? Sweetheart?"
"Uh-huh?"
"Marry me."
She couldn't seem to speak, but she was nodding so fast George could only take it to mean yes. He put the ring on her finger, and she promptly flung herself into his arms and knocked them both off the porch into the nearest snowbank. George burst into such laughter that it woke the neighbors.
"Screw them," he muttered as the complaining started from an upstairs window. "I'm not afraid of nobody and nothing anymore."
"Oh, yeah?" Leah giggled, still half-certain she was dreaming, shivering a little. "When'd you get so brave?"
George smiled, drawing his thumb tenderly across her cheek to brush away a wispy curl.
"When I got you."
A beat.
"You will marry me, right?"
Leah turned and kissed his cheek, then his lips, and George felt like he could take on the world.
"I love you," she whispered, "and I've waited six years for you to ask me that question, so yes, George Luz, yes, I will marry you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You drove how far to get to her?"
Leah and George shared an amused smile. No matter how many times they told this story, there was always someone who'd only heard snippets and couldn't quite believe it until they got the straight facts from the source itself. This time—most entertainingly—it was Speirs, their former captain. The humor of his confusion was only added to by Lipton, who was standing beside him with such an expression of This is the farthest thing from a surprise, Ronald that it made Leah stifle a laugh against her hand.
"As far as I had to," George answered Speirs, squeezing Leah's hip affectionately. "I'd have driven all the way to California if I had to. Up through Canada, down into Mexico, or all the way into South America—I'd go anywhere. I'd even sneak aboard a ship if she was somewhere overseas."
"So... how far?"
"Five hours," Leah chuckled. "Five hours and them some, 'cause he had to stop to get the ring."
"And I was the one behind the wheel," Tab reminded with a twinkle in his eye, and George lit up, delighted that he'd made it to the reunion after all.
"And you still get to officiate, Floyd!"
"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me when I'm needed, and I'll be there."
"Huh." Speirs paused to think, then took a sip from his whiskey glass. "I'll admit, I never pictured..." He waved at George and Leah, though not at all rudely. "This."
George's arm was slung around Leah's waist and her cardigan was tied just above his hips—the only thing more obviously signifying their relationship was the silver band gleaming on Leah's left hand. Leah pressed a kiss to George's cheek, and as Speirs shook his head, astonished, George let loose a delirious peal of laughter.
"Stop that," Leah giggled, ruffling his hair. "You sound like you're already drunk."
"Oh, honey, I am."
She quirked a brow. "Oh, yeah? Since when? You’ve only had one- oop!"
He'd dipped her toward the floor, his lips ghosting over hers, and when she realized she was not, in fact, falling, she smiled.
"Drunk off you, sweetheart," he whispered as their friends started to holler, noticing the couple's open display of affection.
"Then kiss me, Mr. Luz."
"Happily, Mrs. Luz."
"Wait-" She put her finger against his lips, teasing him. "I'm not the missus just yet."
He groaned. "Why must you remind me? Cruel woman..."
A slight shift in his stance let Leah know he was starting to strain himself by holding her there, so she grabbed him by the collar and pressed a searing kiss to his lips, bolstered by their friends' whistling and cheering.
"I don't think I can wait much longer," George admitted as he brought his fiancée back up to stand. "Literally and figuratively. What with you in that dress, and everybody here—heck, why don't we do it tonight?"
"Do it? Get married, you mean?"
"Get married, run away, honeymoon, hook the moon and drag it down to earth," George hummed, swaying her to an imaginary tune. "You name it, I'll make it happen, sweetheart."
Leah looked at him, and her eyes, brimming with tears of gratitude, struck him with so much love he felt faint.
"So? Whaddaya say, my dearest Leah?"
"Yes. Tonight!"
"Huzzah!" George leaned over his shoulder. "Floyd! It would seem your services are needed much sooner than planned!"
Tab looked up from the buffet table, a slice of chocolate cake halfway to his mouth. George and Leah shared a look, then burst into teary laughter, holding on to each other with no intent to ever let go.
"I think they're really gonna do it."
"About time." Dick Winters sidled up to his friend, then nodded at the cake in his hand. "Is that any good?"
Still watching George and Leah, Tab wordlessly passed the cake to Dick, who, in turn, Dick handed it off to a salivating Frank Perconte.
"Dick," Tab queried, "do you know how to officiate an elopement?"
"Not officially-"
"Didn't think so."
"-but I know a guy."
"Of course, you do."
They eyed the happy couple, now dancing to the music Lipton had conjured from the radio, and shared a small smile despite themselves.
"Think you could get him here within the next half-hour?"
Dick checked his watch.
"Uh..."
"Correction: think you could call him up and have him teach me this whole honorary pastor business on the fly?"
Smiling, Dick started for the payphone on the other end of the bar.
"Now that, I can do."
#george luz#george luz x oc#george luz fanfiction#band of brothers#band of brothers fanfiction#band of brothers one shot#hbo war show#hbo war show one shot#hbo war show fanfiction#one shot#fanfiction
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for the game please:
common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about
that one thing you see in fanart all the time
it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...
your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about
So I've written a couple iterations of this answer across the past few months of trying to catch up with my inbox and realized in general that most of it just comes down to like people consuming media in a way I find exhausting. Like that's a bigger thing that this question is trying to get at but honestly it's the thing I see the most these days where someone takes meta too seriously or starts arguing over something on someone else's post or things like that. And like. Listen. There's nothing wrong with being attached to a piece of media and emotionally invested in it. Like I get it. This media has been a hyperfixation in my brain for decades at this point and I care about them a great deal, but there's a difference between that investment and letting strangers ruin your day because your versions of a character are different or you favor different theories on something. Or. I dunno. I genuinely like seeing takes that are different from my own? Even if I don't agree with certain things it's fascinating to see the different experiences people have with the media we all engage with. And it's so important to keep in mind with literary analysis personal life experiences impact what we read as being on screen just as much as what's actually literally on the screen does. This is why we see different things in the same piece of media and I think that can be one of the best things about media in general. But a lot of meta comes across as this is the One Truth - and this is partially because you are presenting an argument and the language that goes with that lends itself to that angle - and I think that's a really unhealthy way to go about this. Like there's a reason I write meta that can contradict each other right? It's literary analysis not an argument I'm preparing for a debate. In my experience if you're so locked into proving yourself right it's really easy for meta to devolve into something that's doing more harm to you than good - especially when it's impacting your enjoyment of the media and the fandom in the first place.
That being said, on a more lighter note that's probably more in the spirit of this question, my longest running version of this is the whole Crowley loving Queen thing. Don’t get me wrong I think it’s a fun character trait to assign to him, but it does kind of make me laugh because I grew up with the interpretation that the Bentley doing this was a constant minor annoyance in Crowley’s life. One of the most relatable scenes in the book to me was Crowley using music to try to get his mind off the Antichrist situation only for the Bentley to play Bohemian Rhapsody, prompting him to shriek and scramble to turn the music off. And I just adore the idea of the Bentley being a little bit of a menace and Crowley being like a grumbly pet owner in a constant state of fond annoyance.
that one thing you see in fanart all the time
Mmm, generally, this fandom is pretty fantastic when it comes to its art but, the one thing that’ll make me not reblog a piece of art is making Aziraphale too skinny.
it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…
Religious text as inspiration for fanfiction? I understand why people don't want to engage with it, don't get me wrong, but there's certain stories I’m shocked I've never seen repurposed for fanfic. Exhibit A of this is the story about Nehushtan, the brazen/bronze/fiery serpent who heals and protects the wandering Israelites from seraphs sent to punish them for questioning God, in particular, is one I'm always shocked that I've never even seen referenced even as a throwaway line.
your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
Honestly this fandom doesn't miss much and the thing I started answering this with kind of devolved into 80% just it's own meta post so we're gonna not go down that rabbit hole twice but the sort answer is I feel like we don't talk nearly enough about the fact that the way magic works is at least slightly tied to belief, expectation, and assumptions of the entities wielding it. I'm obsessed with it.
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Tightening Up a Story
So I’m sick again. Big surprise there! I couldn’t sleep for the life of me last night and I felt the moment it happened—my throat got a little dry out of nowhere and I was done for. I’ll be honest I saw this coming but I’m still mad about it.
As the new year has begun and I’ve spent more time alone drawing and thinking, I’ve considered picking up Anaphora 2 (title pending lol) again—I haven’t worked on it since before starting AKN, which was over a year ago 😵💫!!
My reluctance towards picking it back up comes partially from burnout, as well as some hesitation surrounding a certain reunion scene coming up fast..I worry I have a tendency to be a little too self indulgent with the more sentimental scenes (especially when it’s Martyn and Abraham :3). Certain current scene placements have me reconsidering a lot, which means much of the first draft for part 1 will have to change. This is both necessary and anticipated, but I suppose the concrete realization has come on a little quicker than I thought it would? Or maybe I was thinking I would get out of it easier.
Instead of denying myself opportunity and recognition to try and remain as humble and grounded as possible, I’ve tried to be a bit more self-congratulatory about A Killing Name in front of other people. I go to school with quite a few very talented and accomplished people, which I think has made me a little more eager to prove that I too am talented and accomplished—except I am making this decree to others without being 100% sure of it myself. All of this is to say that people are reading my book which is incredibly flattering and also existentially terrifying.
Knowing that those same talented and accomplished people were reading (examining? analyzing??? Criticizing!?!?) my work had me up at night unable to sleep—Christmas Eve and I am awake terrified because I probably should have cut Bijou and the sister subplot entirely because they amounted to essentially nothing and now people are reading the book and making their own conclusions about that.
Could I go and tighten up AKN right now? Yes I could. It would probably be easy, but like I said, I’m burnt out (which is also why you never see me drawing those guys. sorry everyone) and a little traumatized from repeatedly having to re-indent 70 pages worth of paragraphs after docs fucked me up the ass.
So what does this have to do with Anaphora?
After six years of on-and-off writing and constantly on-not-off thinking I am still not done with it or ready to be done with it like I am with AKN. I had a little bit of an epiphany regarding my favorite girl’s bg, and have started actively rewriting and rewiring certain things that will effect draft 2 of part one pretty significantly. I have learned my lesson! We need to get tight butthole here.
I would like to discuss some of these changes below, as they are not spoiling anything on a purely surface level.
So first and foremost, I am working on a soft redesign of the Heatherbeast. Most of the important things about it are remaining the same—still big and red like evil Clifford and still with the skinned face. Overall, I want their design to resemble a brown hyena more that the sort of large amalgamous (?) dog thing that they were.
Why? I think I remember describing it somewhere as looking like a bunch of random animal parts slapped together, which I think is exemplified more in this design than the previous, which looked too cohesive in the opposite direction. The brown hyena looks cohesive because of the fact that it does not. I much prefer basing the designs of mythical creatures upon real ones—I like tying it back to medieval bestiaries. Like you’re looking at something from far away. I think it fits in with the themes of monsters as evolution that comes up with the Bordeaux family, and it works as a nice parallel to Martyn’s hyena form, which is somewhat out of place with most of her ability drawing from/inspired by North American wildlife (and of course that parallel runs a little deeper than I will share here—just know that it is intentional). I also just Love the skinny striped legs..it feels very reminiscent of my design for Mordred (I would love to unpack my rationale behind all my dark tower designs and redesigns here one day cuz oh boy—but I digress).
Next…the ever present issue of Martyn’s custody arrangement. At least it has been very present to me—I love a good custody arrangement but I’m not sure how much of this I have actually ever discussed with people. This is because the custody arrangement—specifically between the ages of 13-18–had this weird sort of problem where I was balancing out the most formative years of Martyn’s life with characters who were, in the grand scheme of things, incredibly inconsequential and unimportant. This is, as I have only recently truly come to understand, a huge problem, because the characters who are responsible for Martyn’s Big Issue (iykyk) in part 2–characters who had custody over her during this period of 13-18–was an undeveloped, static couple who never actually appeared in the actual story.
The point of Anaphora to me is the interconnectedness of all of the characters. It is meant to be incredibly insular—and it pretty much is in all other areas. What I’m saying is that I have decided to cut out the couple (whose names I never even really solidified lmao). Now, after she is taken away from Abraham at age 13, Martyn is returned to her mother, Diana.
To the one maybe two people out there who are more intimately familiar with the lore, this is a huge change and raises some pretty intense implications surrounding Diana and Rose specifically (Rose plays a significantly large part in removing Martyn from Abraham’s custody)—but these are complications that I think fit their characters and conflicts very well.
This also, in my opinion, frames this period of Martyn’s life as being much darker than previously thought. Once again, I think it more appropriately matches the ensuing fallout around Martyn’s Big Issue a lot better—I don’t think it ever made much sense for two characters who Martyn was never emotionally connected to to have such a lasting effect on her. She strikes me as someone who only values others’ opinions of hers self when the others in question are people she cares about or feels connected to in some way. Idk, I feel like this rounds out Martyn’s conflict with Diana very nicely—it’s like full circle, which is very Anaphora.
Those more intimately aware of the Anaphora lore might also recall that Martyn was originally sent up north by her wards after they’d finally had enough of her. This occurs the summer before she is meant to start HS, at age 15. This still happens, at Diana’s will this time, but my plans around exactly where she is sent/what she is doing there are changing a bit. I have a good idea of what it is, but I’m hesitant to discuss it further as it is very grounded in some Real Life things and I want to make sure I am doing everything right and respectfully before I jump in.
Overall, I am attempting to make the entire story more grounded so to balance out the more fantastical elements. Don’t worry, the shapeshifters and reincarnation and weird dreamwalking is here to stay.
I’m sure a lot of this came off as gibberish—I am hoping to continue discussing my creative endeavors here so people can get a better idea of what the hell im talking about all the time.
If you read this far I’m kissing you. Thanks!!
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Chihayafuru #52: Here comes the Yoshino Tournament
AKA. Kanatomu is back and absolutely here to stay.
[Previously: There’s a kind of confidence only Ayase-san can give him.]
Gosh, picking this up after a hiatus of 1.5 years is not gonna be easy, lol. Can’t believe that this partial post on Chihayafuru season 3 episode 2 has sit in my drafts for that long. I would like to blame Netflix for getting me hooked on The End of the F*cking World and Haikyuu, but to be fair, it was Genshin Impact. Okay, fine, it’s me. But I dare you to be unaffected upon the sight of and acquaintance with the one true Queen (of GI, obviously not karuta), I dare you.
... Jokes and finger-pointing aside, I am truly glad to return to rambling about this wonderous world, despite feeling lost and out of tune like Taichi making his way back to karuta in the beginning of season 1. I must admit that I have forgotten quite a bit of what happened in the past seasons - the matches, the characters’ struggles and dynamics. Before sitting down to finish this post, I have re-read my Chihayafuru collections in the hope of filling up the gaps in my recollection but the fact remains that I am truly worried about my ability to do the rest of Season 3 (which is a lot left ahahaha) and the entire Chihayafuru story justice. It is such an intricately and tightly written work thus far, with so much depth and all the details that all tie together.
Nonetheless, seeing Taichi and hearing Miyano Mamoru have never failed to inspire me to do my best at any given moment. So this is for you, Masuge-kun, and me, for us idiots who ran away and could not help coming back to home.
*deep breath* Now that I got that out of my chest, let us go back to episode 52 because Kanatomu is a thing already. I’m just literally waiting for either of them taking the next step of confession because really, it’s just a matter of time that Kanatomu is canon. So excited for them to be actively turning toward each other and walking the same path hand in hand!!
Before snow falls on Yoshino Village
So many heartstrings were tugged on hearing that sweet bumbling hesitancy in his voice.
There’s so much about the opening scene of this episode to love, from Arata’s cute blushy face, the return of his less-seen shy self, to his gentle and whole-hearted conviction in the need to keep the karuta world growing via school teams, which are often regarded by traditionalists as lesser players. It’s truly heartening to see friends cheering on our resident soft-speaking, socially distant boy and him declaring his intention to enter the next national team tournament.
“Our world of karuta can only grow because of team players who keep the game alive, right?”
It was not until this scene that I truly felt the karuta world’s transformative power on Arata and how much he has opened up since his reunion with Chi-chan and Taichi, and his return to karuta. Had it not been for such experience, Arata might have been much more like Shi-chan, closed off and passionate all on her own. While Arata’s plan to form a school team for the national tournament quickly came to a bust, there’s no denying that Arata’s world has vastly opened up, the moment he wished to spread the word of karuta.
Our fun and peaceful school life rounds continued with Chi-chan and the hardship of figuring out a future path. A certain obstacle will soon be placed in her path but before that, here comes training time.
You’re not the only one lol. The only move Taichi made was to declare war on Chi-chan... so we’ll have to wait and see.
Reality, as it looks, is pretty disheartening, huh?
Taichi’s progress was all noted by Chi-chan, especially how much further his strength in memorization had taken him in the game, making him a very formidable opponent in the later half.
Boy is aiming much higher now, heh? Well, one thing is certain - he definitely had Chi-chan’s attention now. A poor shipper can only hope that he would build something substantial out of it, while Arata is not yet back in the picture permanently.
Perhaps not so surprisingly, Taichi is not the only whose spirits ran high. #everyone_wants_taichi
It’s absolutely hilarious to see these 3 fighting over who got to play Taichi and even better to see the ever gentile and soft-spoken Tsutomu-kun literally snap after an ill-advised argument from Nishida lmao.
Achievement unlocked: one snapped Tsutomu.
There’s a real sense of momentum in Tsutomu’s progress and it would certainly do him good to keep riding on that wind. As Kana-chan so shrewdly observed, going undefeated for an entire day can truly change a person’s mindset.
And Tsutomu is not the only one energized by the team and individual victories of the club. The competitive bug has taken hold of another, one who has found a guiding goal for herself and started to walk firmly towards it.
If Tsutomu’s spirited outburst was already quite unexpected for someone of a quiet disposition, Sumire certainly took the prize in being the greatest surprise of them all. She was asked by Taichi to take a turn playing against Chi-chan, who have started to get comfortable playing with her left hand. Sumire was meant to be an “easy” opponent so that Chi-chan could slowly reacquaint herself with using her right hand. While her level may have not seen a big leap but the same could not be said for her determination and resolve to do exactly what Taichi is trying to do - getting on the radar of her love interest.
That look in her eyes certainly said all. No longer directionless, she now takes tenacious steps with her eyes dead-set on the goal. Her no-nonsense attitude, previously dormant, has taken hold and redefined her character in such a way that completely captivated everyone’s attention.
“I’ll win more in the next tournament. I’m not gonna be class D forever.”
Sumire’s desire to catch Taichi’s eyes being a powerful motivator for her karuta is just in her character. What really strikes me is how enduring such motivation has turned out to be. Seeing this once-flippant and thoughtless girl putting her mind to some real serious pursuit and self-development is truly gratifying.
It feels a little strange to go back to school with these guys after a whole season of mostly tournament matches in Omi Jingu. Suddenly, school trips are a thing, even Chi-chan is hyped over it. These reminders of them having some sort of life outside of karuta will need some getting used to, lol. Unfortunately, seems like school and karuta will come head to head at some point.
Apparently, school trip is not something Chi-chan can easily skip for karuta. Even her literature teacher, after reading her love poems to karuta, took upon himself to forewarn the Empress, aka. the karuta club adviser, on how Chi-chan is a flight risk. Downtrodden by thoughts of not getting to go to the Qualifiers, Chi-chan was shaken out of her funk by Kana-chan, who has always sought to instill feminine grace in our heroine.
I do like the idea of performing small acts of good behavior to accumulate good luck. It is similar to building good karma through acts of kindness and charity, and is a very Kana-thing to believe in.
Then came this somewhat bewildering insert of a Japanese lit. period, which touched upon the age-old debate of creator vs. critic and the role of literature teachers as those who pass on “the words of the many who came before”. Like I do appreciate the insights but I’m not sure of their relevance to the story, now or later. But it did make Chi-chan’s face light up so is this some sort of placeholder for some discussion of future career pathway? *shrug* still weird.
There is finally some good news for Chi-chan: her finger has recovered well after the surgery and her right hand is back! And the Yoshino tournament is literally around the corner, so let’s go!
Team or individual...?
The arrival and clashes of karuta societies made the Yoshino tournament livelier and stand out from previously seen tournaments, where either the schools or the individuals took the center stage. Chi-chan and company were here to play for themselves and to also represent the philosophy of their respective societies.
Here comes the Nagumo society, from Fukui.
And their arch-rival.
I miss Harada-sensei!!!!
Love how the members are so gentile, except for the coach...
There are also some peeps whose schools are akin to karuta societies, me thinks.
Yay, Rion made it to class A too. That should put her in matches against Chi-chan and Taichi at some point!
Lest I forget amidst all the excitement, but this is Taichi’s first-ever tournament as a class-A player!!!
Harada-sensei welcoming Taichi to class A and being a proud papa is all the fluff I need.
Fired up by his own agenda for the Shiranami karuta society as he was, Harada-sensei never forgot to cheer on his Eyelashes-kun, the prodigal child that returned home to karuta.
Meanwhile, Chi-chan had a sweet moment or two with Arata, and then promptly got herself caught up in shenanigans, again.
blushie from Arata. Now that I think about it, when was the last time that Taichi was this blushy around Chi-chan... Though to be fair, he was too busy keeping up with her antics and too jaded by her less-than-feminine comportment to have time for blushies...
She looked so cute here, reminding me of younger Chi-chan - so pleased by praise from Arata.
But above all, they are here for the karuta.
Certainly not before meeting Arata again, right?
And here came Sudo-san, whose “s” stands for shenanigan, sadist and stalker.
... Oh come on, he provides commentary for all of Chi-chan’s matches, whenever he’s not playing himself. If that is not stalker-ish behavior, then it’s secret admirer, mwhahaha.
Taichi = Chi-chan’s tamer.
The stakes just keep getting higher, huh? DON’T TAKE IT, TAICHI!!!
Though I must say I do look forward to a rematch between Sudo-san and Chi-chan, if the mangaka karuta god wills it so. Actually, Sudo-san has yet to play against Taichi thus far, right...?
*fingers cross* my memory please come backkkk
Lmao, bit early for this pairing to be exciting, considering the last round of team tournament at Omi Jingu. But I would like to see this senpai again, for sure. His puppy love for Rion is so hopeless lol.
It sure is the thread of fate lol. Awww, I do like this President Cheers/Yoroshiku.
Poor Nishidaaaa, gambatte ne.
With Chi-chan and Taichi growing by leaps and bounds and having exciting reunions with friends and rivals, it can be easy to forget about the lower-level players like Tsutomu-kun. To think that it only took him about a year (or less?) to reach class B. That, in itself, is quite the feat and his progress deserves all the recognition and spotlight from before and here onwards. While class B proved to be more challenging than he expected, and Tsutomu-kun has a long way to go before becoming a strong player, I do hope that he will have more chances to show his resolve and be more than a supporting character.
“I should have known a class B match wouldn’t be like class C.”
Unfortunately, this is as far as he got in this tournament. I find it such a shame that we won’t get to see more of Tsutomu-kun the karuta player for now, but I understand that the narrative is building up something spectacular for the trio in Yoshino so Tsutomu-kun’s early elimination would help with the story’s focus, which has been a little all over the place in this episode.
Before moving on, some appreciation from the girl who has been walking the same path with him since the beginning.
Kanatomu has always been my comfort ship, especially whenever Taichihaya feels like the most hopeless thing ever. Kana-chan’s openly-expressed affection and care for Tsutomu-kun is truly balm for the soul.
“You said were going to win so I wanted to be there to see it.”
Both Kana-chan and Tsutomu-kun are the quiet strength that supports and holds the team together. They make for an adorable couple-to-be, with all the chemistry that any pairing could ever hope to have.
Back to the class A matches, it is with another untimely elimination that this episode ends on.
Nishida’s tenacity was amazing as always, but I wished that we could have seen more of his match against Sudo-san. At least his Nikuman roll.
Overall, this episode is a bit of a mixed bag. I do get pumped for the upcoming matches of Chi-chan and Taichi, as well as reunion match(es) with Arata but I am not so sure about two eliminations in one go. I don’t enjoy seeing support characters being used so blatantly as plot devices, especially when they barely have any screentime. Nonetheless, this speaks to Chihayafuru’s strength in character writing, in how the series really gets viewers invested in all characters, regardless of how brief their appearance or their importance to the main storyline.
Wow, I am here, at the end of my post on the 2nd episode. I still can’t believe that it took me so long to finish it. All the excuses I could have said I did, so allow me to leave you with these parting words.
Even while in the thick of GI, Chihayafuru still colored my world. There are many reasons as to why one would choose to pull for Kazuha, but for me, it was how he embodies classical Japanese poetry and aesthetics, and manifests it in every aspect of his character design and lore. I literally decided to pull for him because of his maple-themed kimono (which feels so quintessentially Japanese to me) and the name of his Elemental skill - “Chihayaburu”. It doesn’t hurt that his kit (skills) is awesome and totally kicks ass, but truly, I was sold at the moment I saw the leak with his Elemental skill’s name.
And while his “Chihayaburu” does not come from Chihaya’s favorite poem #17, it is still a reference to classical Japanese poetry - the Man’yoshu, or “Ten thousand leaves” collection. And the more you dig into Kazuha’s character, there are more references, like in the voice-overs for his Burst animation (a splendid affair of maple leaves caught in whirlwind) and his musing on maple leaves (in which he recited Ogura Hyakunin Isshu’s poem #5). In a character demo video, Kazuha is also shown to be composing a haiku, while wandering the world.
There is so so much about Kazuha that appeals to me, and it would take much longer than 2 paragraphs to say it all, but all in all, it is the Japanese poetry so richly imbued in his design and character that speaks to me. And I would not have any appreciation of that, had I not been exposed to it in Chihayafuru.
Thanks for reading thus far, lovelies! I’ll be dashing off to watch the 3rd episode now! See you, for sure.
#Chihayafuru#chihayafuru season 3#chihayafuru anime#chihayafuru marathon#chihayafuru s3#natsumi talks#natsumi watches#Chihaya Ayase#ayase chihaya#Taichi Mashima#Mashima Taichi#Wataya Arata#Arata Wataya#Kanade Oe#komano tsutomu#sumire hanano#Yusei Nishida#kaedehara kazuha
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ALWAYS got questions for you 💞💞 (for the questions for fic writers game)
2, 4 (for if you have a minute), 10, 12, 17, 34, 45
(OH NO THERE ARE SO MANY OF THESE I WANT TO ASK YOU)
slkdgsd HI THANK YOU FOR THESE!!! 💞💞 SO sorry it took me so long to reply, i was not online very much this past weekend! BUT!
2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?
1. fluff
2. first kiss
3. alternate universe - modern setting
4. love confessions
5. smut
i absolutely think these accurately represent my writing habits haha. i am alllllllll about writing those soft, sweet, tooth-rottingly fluffy moments so yeah that FITS that it's my number one tag. and i do feel like i write a LOT of first kiss/love confession fics so that also makes sense that it makes the top 5! the alternate universe - modern setting tag i know for certain comes from the fact that i wrote a TON of fics for stucky and i even though i did like writing pre-war stucky fics, my favorite thing to do was to play outside of canon more with them, so most of my fics ended up being like no serum/powers and set in current times, so that's why that tag was used so much. i will say that i am surprised that the smut tag makes the top 5 lol. i feel like i don't write that much smut?? but i guess maybe i do? granted, it's only listed as being used 11 times out of my 94 fics so yeah that really isn't a lot lol. but yeah! i guess tha's a thing!
4. What detail in if you have a minute are you really proud of?
ooh, okay. there were a few lines in particular in this fic that i really really loved and am really partial to, BUT i have to say that i am actually really proud of how i managed to make the screaming at the lake part not give off that like hide-your-face-in-your-hands second hand embarrassment kind of cringe vibe. (at least i don't think i did LOL). it would be very easy, in my opinion, to tip over into that second hand embarrassment kind of side of things with a scene like that, and i think i did a good job of like not going there, and making it more serious even if it is still a little goofy to be just shouting at a lake. i like to think that that scene ended up being very cathartic (it certainly felt that way to write!) so i'm pretty proud that i was able to put that down into words and elicit that feeling.
10. How do you decide what to write?
honestly, i don't really pick what to write — what i'm going to write picks me lol.
but it's usually just based on whatever ideas i have floating around my head when i'm wanting to write. the ideas can be inspired by a post i see, a song, someone's art, something that happens to me irl, another piece of media, something someone else says, a random thought i have, anything really.
if it's an idea i like, that i feel energetic about and am vibing with then i'll roll with it and try to write it. if i have multiple ideas at once (which like. is often lol) then i just go with whichever feels easiest to work on at the moment.
12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?
hmmm, i think maybe soulmate aus? i didn't used to like those a whole lot, never thought i'd ever write one, but over the years i've started to read more of them, and funny enough, my favorite spierfeld fic that i wrote ended up being a soulmate au. i'm still not like the biggest reader of them, but i won't rule them out, and if they're done right (and bonus points for if they're done in a way that is different from all the rest!!) then they can be very good!
17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?
okay so i don't think this necessarily falls under the "you might be the only person to appreciate it" part of the question because i really don't think i would be the only person to appreciate it, BUT it is a highly specific au that i have been DREAMING about writing for literally years. i call it my "fake bbq master husband kidfic au" skjdflds.
idk if you've ever seen it but there's a post floating out there about these like 17 year olds who posted an ad on like craigslist or something looking for a "generic father figure for backyard bbq" aka someone to pretend to be their dad who likes to bbq and talk about "dad" things and such.
well. i saw this post whilst in the midst of my stucky era, and immediately thought of a fic where steve is a single dad, and he moves into this new neighborhood and he like meets some of his neighbors and panic invites them to a bbq at his house (despite being a shit cook and not knowing how to bbq) so they can all get to know each other and he makes the mistake of saying that he has a husband when, in fact, he does not. cue steve hitting up craigslist with this ad looking for someone to pretend to be his husband who knows how to grill and wants to do him a solid. enter: bucky barnes.
this fic really had it all. it had peggy being the mother of steve's child, but they amicably split and now peggy is with angie martinelli, and steve has full custody but they're still very involved with raising the daughter (ellie!); it had natasha and clint as neighbors, tony and pepper and their daughter morgan as neighbors (and also morgan ends up on the same soccer team as ellie); sam and riley as a couple + steve's friends before the move; carol and maria and their daughter monica. (and, like, most everyone is gay, if you can't tell LOL).
and yeah basically bucky responds to the ad, comes over to help with this bbq party, and ends up sweeping steve, his daughter, and all their neighbors/friends off of their feet, and he keeps finding excuses to come over and hang out with steve and ellie, and this fake relationship they crafted starts to turn into something real.
i still desperately want to one day write this fic, i think about it ALL the time, no joke. (or like tbh, it's au enough that i could even maybe turn it into an original fiction type of deal? but yeah who knows!! all i know is i really really want to write it one day!!)
34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?
ooh. well. DEFINITELY 100% the amount of yearning that is infused into my fics LOL. i am one Yearny Bitch™ so that is definitely a reflection of me. and like. i also crave domesticity ksngls so i tend to write a lot of that because if i can't get it anywhere else i know i can get it from my blorbos amiright? sdlkfsdf.
but also i did write several fics (i think most ended up being in my stucky era) that were directly inspired by my life. like, i wrote a whole entire fic based on the very real social experiment i ran in my psychology of law lab in college LOL.
45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?
i mean, i've been doing this for 6+ years so i really do feel like everything has improved. but that answer feels like cheating lol sooo i guess i'll be specific.
but. i do think i've gotten better at like writing more of the introspective stuff? like, i feel like a lot of my early fics were more focused on the actions and like the characters being like What Is Going On Around Me rather than What Is Going On In My Head. and i think now i can do the writing a character's thoughts and feelings much better and i can get pretty deep with it, too, if i want to take it that way. those kinds of things can really add to a fic too, so i'm glad that i've gotten better at writing them!
📝 questions for fic writers
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For the fanfic ask: ❤️ 💎🔥🌻
❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?
This is hard for me. I'm going to go to my newest work which is Pierced Through the Heart which was a commission from @punk-gremlin.
“I’m glad it’s you,” Anthony says, pulling back to lean over Ian, a hand planted next to Ian’s head in the soft mattress.
“Huh?” Ian asks.
“My first time with a guy…I’m glad it’s with you, Ian.”
Hearing his name from Anthony’s mouth breathy and warm, it’s new and perfect, and the only way Ian wants to ever hear his name again for the rest of his life.
Ian wraps fingers around Anthony’s wrist, rubs his thumb across the veins he feels.
“I’m no expert,” Ian says.
Anthony brushes his lips across Ian’s and kisses him again. “No, but you’re Ian.”
I put the whole paragraph in here for context but the two bolded lines I feel are nice and fit Ian and Anthony and I had a lot of people screaming at me about them on Discord.
💎 Do you often write about a relationship or focus on an individual?
Relationships though I do love a good character study fic and the fic I am writing is partially that and partially a relationship based fic so I hope when it comes out you all enjoy it!
🔥 Have you included any sexy scenes in your fics? If yes, do you find them easy or difficult to write?
I definitely write a lot of sexy scenes. It really depends on what the scene is. There are some acts I don't feel very good at writing like oral, or I try to think of different ways to make things less repetitive. Sometimes I'll look up some inspo to just get some ideas and positions in mind and think of descriptions.
🌻 How often do you read your own fics?
Not too often! If I get a comment on one that I haven't looked at or the comment inspires me to go back and re-read it I will. The most recent one I was re-reading was Cursed because I got an interesting comment on it!
#ask games#ask game#wiggog-y-hecox#zee#ask box#writer asks#fan fic asks#queue and i#cursed au#PTTH au#also commissions are open if you ever want one hmu
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you know those movies that you could watch over and over again just for the plot? those movies you find yourself going back to so you can escape reality for just a second. the ones that make you go back and replay scenes because they’re so powerful and inspiring? i’ve come to realize that those movies, are bs. yeah i know, movies are made up and almost entirely fictional, partially based off facts. occasionally you’ll get the “based on a true story” pop up that makes you think this could potentially happen but in reality, how much of the story is really based on what happened. people lie and make up shit all the time. do you know how easy it is to manipulate a story? i don’t want to crush your dreams or ruin your perfect world but, it’s the hard truth. all the love and friendship and excitement you feel from these movies, those feelings, they’re not real. just like the story. what’s the point of a story if it’s halfway finished? what’s the point of a story if it’s based on small details that don’t even matter. i used to find comfort in these movies. they allowed me to escape and imagine myself in their shoes. made life easier. but then the credits roll and it’s back to reality. back to the realization that movies are movies and our lives are never gonna be like them. we can lie to ourselves and hope that these moving love stories and romantic connections are real, but when reality sets in, we know they aren’t. i wish. i wish with every ounce of my being that a real connection, feeling, overtaking sensation could occur when you meet the one but do we really think that’s plausible. a feeling so powerful that you feel as if nothing could stop it. a sensation that makes you hot in your head and your heart skips 20 beats. one that feels like a magnetic field pulling two opposite forces. god i want this feeling. i want my movie. i want the good i want the bad. i want the i can’t get a fucking nough of you feeling you know? fuck. but reality. that stupid fucking bitch. she eats at my everliving nerve every single day i breathe. i want my person. i want that someone i just can’t live without. i can’t be without. i can’t think without. yeah sure. that feeling sounds almost miserable. and what if you ever lost that special someone? yeah all of those things could be true. but they also could not. i would rather take a chance with someone who could be the love of my life but also destroy me then no one at all. you’ll never find love if you don’t take risks. playing it safe never led someone to the love of their life. i’m sorry but regardless of the movies, this is a fact. love is all about risks. that’s basically how it all begins. yeah i can preach this and preach this but once again, the reality. i play it safe. i never take risks. and if i’m choosing a lane, it’s most likely the one with guard rails on it. i protect my heart but also destroy it. i pick the lane that’s gonna keep me happy but just enough to stay a float. just enough to keep me happy to make it through the day so then, i can be alone and suffer in peace. i know. pathetic. i choose the easy road that will last me short term. i never think about long term happiness. honestly. i don’t think i deserve to even be happy at all. i feel like this all the time. like i’m worthless. i know if i disappeared i would be forgotten. and if i wasn’t forgotten, it’d be because my parents made a spectacle of it. don’t give me the “your a horrible kid” speech because i promise, i’ve heard it before. but anyways. what i’m trying to say is, i’m not even sure if i believe in love anymore. everything about love that i know of is lies, manipulation, and scrutiny. i just can’t believe that someone could feel this way so strongly about someone. and maybe it’s because i’ve never felt this for someone. or maybe i did but it was for the wrong person. or maybe this feeling is just like the movies, not real. regardless of it all, i’m still gonna live my day to day. my annual wake up, fake happy, fake eat, sleep, repeat. my reality. harsh, but true. i really hope this feeling is real. i hope.
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impatient | itadori
you can’t decide if being left alone with him is a blessing or a curse half the time.
itadori yuuji x reader
word count: 2.2k
inspired by fushiguro being all pouty when he didn’t get to help itadori and kugisaki in that one episode :(
“This is so boring.”
“Yuuji, shut up.”
Shoe soles scrapping against the gravel, you didn’t even bother looking at him, although the burning gaze you already felt prickled the hairs on the back of your neck.
“You’re bored too.” It wasn’t a question.
“We’re supposed to wait for them out here.”
There was a flash of color in your peripheral and a side glance revealed that he was tapping the heel of his red sneakers on the ground—another thirty seconds of that and you’d probably end up threatening him to a life without legs (not that it’d work—Sukuna in all his stupid glory would just regenerate them for his precious vessel; speaking of which, if Sukuna decided to start complaining right now too, you were sure you would lose your mind).
Whistling wind was the only reply to your statement and, content your ears would be spared from the monologue of complaints Yuuji had been going through for who-knows-how-long-now, you crossed your arms and tilted your head back to lean against the brick wall. The stone was dusted with a rustic red—standard, yet somehow fitting for the scene around you. The building looming in front of you was dilapidated in appearance, but you admitted the sleepy residential neighborhood it was located in had some charm to it in a weary, tired sort of way. The splash of brightly colored flowers and houses on some corners really upped the appeal you had to say.
Caught up surveying the surrounding area in admiration, you were almost able to forget about the boy perched on top of the junction where the wall dipped in its height down to a low brick fence just short enough to climb on top of. Almost.
As soon as the sigh left him from beside you, your face reacted before your mind had even fully comprehended what it meant (what it meant was that there was no chance you’d get any peace and quiet around here at this rate), your features annoyed and frowning and everything in between as had become routine at this point. “Why can’t we go in?” he whined, nudging you with his knee. His gaze was expectant and weirdly innocent as he peered up at you, as though you were explaining to a child why they had to have patience. You supposed that comparison could be accurate most times when it came to Yuuji.
“Because Gojou said so.”
“He’s not even here!” That was true. He was off on some super secret mission, although the instructions he had given the group of you were specific—or... er, not too specific that you couldn’t take some... creative liberties in their interpretation, such as stopping for ice cream on the way there as per Kugisaki’s demand request—trusting the lot of you to take care of yourselves and follow them to a T. And by that, he of course meant Fushiguro keeping everyone in line.
There was another curse to take care of, yet Gojou had decided to have you two sit this one out and simply accompany Megumi and Nobara to the site—those two were to actually head inside and deal with the threat. In hindsight, it all made sense considering you, Yuuji, and Megumi had spent more time around each other prior to Nobara’s arrival at the school, no matter how minuscule the time difference was. Hell, you and Yuuji had both spent more time fighting alongside Nobara than Megumi had (they always seemed to keep getting separated from each other in some way or another during the early missions, a laughable observation now that you thought about it). Naturally, letting those two duke it out and come to a somewhat agreeable partnership was the best course of action, and what better way to do that than force them into an abandoned building together?
But even in spite of all that clear-minded reasoning, you couldn’t lie that you weren’t more than a little peeved that you weren’t getting in on any of the action. You scoffed. Team bonding, but at what cost? At the cost of your sanity, that’s what.
You rubbed your temples, squeezing your eyes shut. You no longer wanted to see. “Yuuji, we’re supposed to keep watch,” you huffed out, exasperated. Although truth be told, the title of “guards” just seemed like some fancy namesake Gojou had given you two in order to placate you and make you feel like you were actually doing something. Needless to say, it was not working.
The low section of the wall he sat upon was one half of the area that flanked the archway of the path that led up to the building, and Yuuji, stupid and silly and cute, peeked his head just around the corner to look out of the entrance at the (empty) street and then turned back to you with a shrug. “Nothing there. Job done.” Playfully adorable as he was, you cracked a smile at that, shaking your head.
“Guess you’re right—job done,” you conceded.
He beamed and then hopped off of the ledge, pacing now. You wanted to stretch your legs too and go exploring around the area, but you were trying to be the voice of reason here, knowing that if you gave up that control you were a goner for sure. It was painfully easy to get swept up in his antics.
You barely even registered him setting off on another tangent about how he wanted to go inside too, more so focused on his hands as he switched from swinging them at his side to putting them up in a mock thinking expression for his head to rest upon as he kept walking back and forth in front of you—you were wondering if (and if so, when was the perfect moment) you could reach out and grab ahold of his hand to still the restless energy... and also partially because you just wanted to.
“They’ve been in there a long time, haven’t they?” Yuuji mused, your mind actually picking up on the question now that it was directed at you and not at some vague imaginary spot in the distance. He was right. You noted the glow of the red of the bricks making up the wall as they shone brilliantly warm under the softer evening light, the silent ticking of time among the clouds your only indication of the day passing. The sky was in between the bright shades of blue of the sunny afternoon and the orange hues that were gradually creeping in and mixing with them.
“They have,” you confirmed. You wondered if you would be here until nightfall with how long it was taking them. You crossed your arms again and drummed your fingers against them. Come on already, I have things to do.
After a staring contest with one of the many dust-covered windows of the building as though you were mentally willing the two inside to come out, your narrowed gaze swung over to Yuuji to see what he was up to and promptly widened. You hadn’t noticed that he had stopped his pacing and was looking at you now, closer than you remembering him being moments before.
“And... we’ve been alone this entire time, haven’t we?” Another step forward, casual yet making you suspicious all the same.
“...yes,” you replied, wary of the grin he had—you would’ve thought it was Sukuna if not for the crinkle of his eyes into a smile that matched the one on his lips (oh yeah, that was Yuuji alright).
His steps were so easy, carefree, as though he were sauntering up to talk to you any other time, but you knew him and you knew when he was planning something. Sure, there were times you were downright confused by just about everything he did, but then there were others where his thoughts were just plain obvious.
“And what have we been doing?” In one swift movement he had trapped you against the wall—another step and your back would hit the surface—piercing look pinning you in place. It was a sudden development but you also had the notion that you should have seen this coming from a mile away. He didn’t even need to put an arm out to prevent you from side-stepping out of the spot, his mere presence enough (although you very much wanted to wipe that sweet smile off of his face).
Your mind scrambled for words, you glancing off to the side briefly—you could not maintain eye contact with him like this. “Talking?”
His eyes lit up and you had the feeling you’d just fallen right into his trap. The hand that came up to cup your face confirmed your suspicions. “Yeah, and that’s boring, isn’t it?”
You swallowed, trying to still your breathing. “It is...”
Yuuji tilted his face forward to lean his forehead against yours, skin warm. Both of you were silent aside from the quiet hitches of breath, scrutinizing one another. When you felt his thumb press against the full part of your bottom lip in interest, you just about lost it. His voice was smooth and low when he spoke, “I was going to wait until later but...” You felt him breath in.
Later was usually when anything happened, you two not yet entirely bold or confident enough when it came to most displays of affection in public—or at least in front of the others that was. Their teasing was enough to have your face burning in shame for days, even if you had to admit it was funny at times. You barely even held hands in front of them. Then again... following Yuuji’s train of thought... you had been out here alone for so long already... maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just...—you weren’t lost to contemplation for long though as he brought you back to reality.
A mere brush of his lips against yours stopped you from replying, your eyes falling closed, heart hammering. Your hand found a weak grip on the front of his shirt as you waited expectantly for the warm flush of his mouth.
“What are you two doing?”
You jolted at the familiar voice, heart hammering for an entirely different reason now, and pulled away from Yuuji’s face, although his grip on your head didn’t let you get far, the press of his ring finger and pinky into the back of your neck dizzying. Fushiguro and Kugisaki stood a few feet away, looking a little worse for wear with minor scrapes and bruises littered on their exposed skin, but thankfully all in one piece.
Eyes darting to them, mind reeling as you realized the compromising position you had been caught in, you thought up an excuse on the spot.
“Standing guard.”
“About to kiss.”
You and Yuuji both spoke at once. You slowly looked at each other, blinking.
A second passed and then— “Why are you lying?” he asked, genuinely confused.
You slapped a hand across his chest in horror at him blatantly blowing your cover like that. “Yuuji!” You were mortified (but also... he was still so close... it was almost easy to forget that the other two were still there).
“I...” Fushiguro looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it and shook his head. “I don’t want details. Let’s just go.”
A sigh of relief left you, but then Yuuji gave a chipper, “Okay!” and when he still didn’t release his hold, you had a vague feeling in your gut that something was wrong—
He leaned forward to close the gap at last and press his lips against yours, swallowing up your breath in the process—then he pulled away like it was nothing, off to go bother Fushiguro about the details of the curse.
You stood there, dumbfounded.
A gasp. “Gross!” Kugisaki shrieked, sounding like she wanted a break from everything that had occurred in the past five hours. She was sticking her tongue out, nose scrunched up and eyes screwed shut. “I cannot see anything cute after dealing with that thing inside.” A nose of discontentment, “Bleh.” But then she seemed to have a moment of clarity, clapping both hands on the side of her face and giving you a look that might as well have been an overexaggerated wink paired with her shouting every cliche couple trope from the rooftops. “But also... romantic.” Please someone save you.
Fushiguro was looking a little pale himself, caught off guard by the display of affection, staring at you, but then catching himself and looking away. He looked embarrassed and he didn’t even have anything to do with it.
Carefully, robotically, you brought a finger up to brush against your lips, still warm where Yuuji’s had molded between them, and subsequently noticed the teasing look he was giving you in the distance. It was a little too smug for your liking.
You stalked up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest, staring him down. “Yuuji, I swear-”
Kugisaki shoved the two of you towards the exit before you could get into a fist fight over a single surprise kiss, tsking while Fushiguro followed behind in her wake (you wondered if he would recover from... that any time soon—poor boy). “Okay, move it along, lovebirds. I want to go take a shower.”
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#itadori yuji x reader#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagines#i can't decide if i like using the banners or not :(#jjk#jjk imagine#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen#itadori yuji imagine#itadori yuji#itadori yuuji#itadori yuuji imagine#jjk itadori#itadori yuji imagines#itadori yuuji imagines#yuji itadori x reader#CAN'T FIGURE OUT if there is one u in his name or two???
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san/seonghwa/wooyoung
established!woosan playing with their favourite toy, seonghwa
(this is technically mostly sanhwa bc wooyoung likes to watch but he’s very much ateez present, don’t worry)
“Wow, Sannie look! He’s already hard.”
Seonghwa already was on his knees in front of San when Wooyoung pointed shamelessly at the growing bulge in Seonghwa’s boxers. It was the only article of clothing left to hide just how turned on he was. His thighs tightened and his hands dropped with shame as he tried to hide the obvious outline of hard cock in his underwear.
Wooyoung was casually cross-legged on the sidelines, as if he was merely watching them play video games and waiting his turn for the controller rather than about to witness his boyfriend get head from their mutual friend and occasional plaything. Wooyoung laughed loudly at Seonghwa's efforts. He was doing a terrible job at hiding the obvious.
“Aw, you’re right.” San peered down past Seonghwa’s blushing face and chest to gawk at the tenting folds of Seonghwa’s boxers. “Well, Hyung is just going to have to wait now, isn’t he?”
Cheeks rosy, Seonghwa nodded politely. His body slowly started to decompress as he eased into the feeling of being on display for them.
High off the prospect of getting his dick sucked while his boyfriend watched, a sleazy smirk was glued to San’s face. His t-shirt was only partially off, tucked behind his neck lazily and still attached to him at the sleeves. Seeing as he was otherwise fully dressed, it was obvious he was only trying to show off his abs with the impractical stunt. Wooyoung liked him best when he was cocky and San wasn’t one to deny his boyfriend a worthwhile show.
“It’s okay.” Wooyoung looked equally as cocky as he comforted Seonghwa, “San’s probably hard under there too.”
“Yeah?” Seonghwa spoke in barely a whisper, eyes innocent and wide as he redirected his attention directly in front of him to the in-seam of San’s jeans. The unforgiving fabric was tighter than usual. There was a gap between his body and the waist of his baggy pants that usually wasn’t there as they lifted away from his stomach.
Mindlessly, Seonghwa licked his lips before realizing how obvious he was being.
“Someone’s eager.” Wooyoung quipped through the drawl of his horny daze.
“Whenever you’re ready.” San looked down at Seonghwa’s desperation and threaded a strong hand through his hair for encouragement. “You know how much I like it when you unwrap me all by yourself.”
Shaky hands popped open the button of San’s pants. The sound of his fly being unzipped sent butterflies loose in the depths of Seonghwa’s stomach; the otherwise inconspicuous sound of a zipper was downright filthy given the context.
Next, Seonghwa pulled down on San’s belt loops with enough force for the fabric to clear the resistance of his bulge and leave San in only a loose pair of boxers.
They shared a warm exchange as Seonghwa peered up at San with already-damp eyes, savouring the last moment as himself before he was reduced to nothing but a hole for San to use. San pushed the hair out of Seonghwa’s face, preparing him for what was about to come.
Brain foggy, Seonghwa was thinking hard to decide how he would remove the last layer, trying to ignore the background noise of fabric shifting followed by soft moans. Wooyoung never was keen on patience.
“C’mon Hyung, you know San doesn’t like to be teased.” Wooyoung grunted out a warning, breath already wavering as he pleasured himself beneath his waistband.
“I’m pretty sure you just want to see my cock.” San wasted no time putting Wooyoung in his place, to which he simply groaned with pleasure at the insult.
San was interrupted from reveling in his boyfriend’s crudeness when he felt the chill of cold air across his cock. Seonghwa was carefully lifting the elastic waist of his boxer up and over the member before letting it pool at San’s legs.
All three of their breaths slowed down as they took in their own unique perspective on the scene. Seonghwa was face to head with San’s thick cock, veiny and already sticky at the tip for him. It wasn’t quite unfamiliar but the sight was still fresh and pleasantly shocking enough that it knocked the air right out of his lungs.
San’s ego was stroked to completion as he watched his Hyung’s reaction to his dick, breath hitching and eyes locked on to the head, leaking at the promise of Seonghwa’s soft lips soon to be wrapped around it.
Lastly, Wooyoung accompanied the sight of his boyfriend’s hard cock, inches away from a needy Seonghwa’s parted lips, with a greedy squeeze to his own aching balls, reminding himself of just how much he liked to watch.
His whiny voice impatiently cut through the tension in the room like a dull knife begging to be sharpened. “Go on. Don’t leave him waiting.”
“Shhh, Wooyoung.” San saw Seonghwa’s eyes glaze with panic and scolded his greedy boyfriend. “I want him to think for himself.”
“But you’re dripping.” Wooyoung winced when a weighty drop of San’s precum succumbed to gravity and hit the floor. To him it was a thoughtless waste.
“Hyung knows what he’s doing.” San tsked. He glared daggers at Wooyoung. “Do you want to be blindfolded? Because I’ll do it.”
The threat was plausible and hit him where it hurt. He loved watching almost as much as he loved being in the centre of the action. Wooyoung quickly shook his head no and made a zipping motion across his lips. The thought of having to get off from sounds and smell alone was torture. He would be quiet for now.
Well, as quiet as his body would let him be as he continued pleasuring himself.
Meanwhile, hot breath against San’s dick became hotter with each shallow puff from Seonghwa’s lungs.
“Can I?” Seonghwa looked up longingly at San, waiting for permission he knew he already had. He was stalling. His heart was racing and he wasn’t sure why.
“Of course, baby boy.” San cupped Seonghwa’s face. He softly swiped his thumb over one of his Hyung’s cheekbones, caressing the soft skin there. San couldn’t help imagining how pretty he would look with cheeks hollowed out and taking his dick, however, he kept his filthy thoughts to himself. Seonghwa needed support first. “You can set the pace, okay?”
Seonghwa nodded, happy with the compromise. San’s hand on his cheek was a gentle comfort that he didn’t want to give up quite yet. Easing into the blowjob, Seonghwa went in tongue first instead, sliding it out of his mouth and creeping the wet muscle towards San’s cock. Even though he knew it was coming, when the wetness finally came into contact with San’s cockhole, flicking at the divot, his muscles jumped into a flex and his hands dropped to his side.
Wooyoung was ecstatic. The sight of San’s full body tensing with pleasure was something he was rarely privy to a secondhand view of. It really let him drink in every individual muscle of his boyfriend’s sculpted body. All his favourite memories of skin-on-skin came flooding back, hindsight guiding his hand up and down his own shaft furiously. He wouldn’t last long like this, but needy and pathetic was his style. It suited him.
With Seonghwa’s mouth still free to express emotion, a small smile crept onto his face. Both boys were moaning, music to Seonghwa’s ears and he was the composer. However, he wouldn’t let himself get too cocky. His power trip had a clear expiration date. Not that he minded; he preferred the stress-free alternative to shot calling.
It wasn’t long before Seonghwa finished cleaning all the streaks of San’s precum. He punctuated his methodic lapping at San’s head by sloppily wrapping his tongue around the shaft to assure that he got all the hard to reach places.
“Jesus.” San whispered.
Seonghwa pulled back, leaving San’s damp cock at the mercy of the cold room and Wooyoung’s greedy sightlines. “Good?”
“Very.” San was out of breath, speaking in bursts. He wouldn’t dare beg, but he was clearly desperate. He grabbed his cock at the base and positioned it perpendicular to Seonghwa’s lips. “Need your mouth...”
De-stressed and prepped to be used, Seonghwa was satisfied knowing his fun was over. There was already a fresh bead of precum forming on San’s tip, putting Seonghwa’s previous efforts to waste. To both Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s surprise, instead of taking his mouth as promised, San pressed the creamy head against Seonghwa’s lips. Eyes locked with Seonghwa, San messily dragged thick streaks of white across the puckered lips as Wooyoung watched in awe at the sloppiness of the scene.
Finally, San centered his cock to rest in the small gap between Seonghwa’s slicked up pout. “Open up.”
Wanting to be good, Seonghwa listened. Not giving him time to adjust, each millimeter that Seonghwa opened his jaw was just an invitation for San to push himself further inside the wet hole. He slid in with ease, using his own precum as lube and taking his mouth inch by inch, only pausing when he felt Seonghwa’s throat convulse with a small choke.
Wooyoung, dick still in hand, rolled his eyes. “I could’ve taken you like that easy.” He was clearly enamoured by the sight of tears in Seonghwa’s eyes, an unavoidable physical response to him being filled all at once. Wooyoung continued, adding insult to injury. “Warm up is for pussies.”
San ignored the rude comment from his boyfriend, more worried about Seonghwa. “You okay?” He checked in, hoping he hadn’t damaged his favourite toy.
“Mmhm.” Seonghwa moaned loudly and affirmatively around the cock, shaking it with deep vibrations. San tensed up again at the quick and unexpected feeling, only to damn near collapse when Seonghwa swallowed around him, sucking him several inches deeper into his mouth in the process.
“God, you’re so good at that.” San complimented, forgetting how positively Seonghwa reacts to praise.
His words only inspired the older boy to work even harder, bobbing his head furiously. The pace he was setting would be brutal if San dared to comply to it, and Seonghwa had no signs of slowing down in sight. Each movement of his head brought San’s dick closer to the back of his throat, tongue fighting against the speed of his slippery movements to wrap around the shaft when possible.
“Sannie, please, just fuck him.” Whiny and equally as desperate, Wooyoung had already coated himself in spit, preparing to stroke himself to compilation any minute now. He wanted the show that he was promised if he was going to risk blowing his load. “Look how badly he wants you.”
Seonghwa dragged nails over San’s hips, squeezing the flesh to co-sign what Wooyoung said. He did want San. He wanted San to fuck him stupid. Yet, San merely stood there as he got pleasured, hands on the crown of Seonghwa’s head, body frozen and too worried about Seonghwa to move.
And that’s why Wooyoung was there.
“Hyung, look here.” Wooyoung cooed, voice dripping with theatrics. Seonghwa did as he was told, shimmery eyes glancing over as he slowed his pace on San’s cock to focus up on Wooyoung.
With this new cause now seeming far more important than Wooyoung’s pleasure, the pumps around his cock had slowed as well, intentional squeezes to show off his veins now that he had Seonghwa’s attention. Wooyoung let out a quiet laugh, probably at him. “Now there’s our good boy. So good at listening and following directions, aren’t you?” Seonghwa’s eyes lit up at the praise, excess drool escaping down his chin from the gaps around San’s cock.
San was also quiet, listening politely to Wooyoung and continuing to be pleasured from below. He was eager to hear the pitch.
“Aw, so messy. You’re even dripping through your shorts.” Wooyoung used his free hand to shamelessly point, redirecting everyone’s attention to the damp stain on Seonghwa’s boxers. “Take those off, will you? I bet you’ll feel much more comfortable.”
Whimpering sadly as San’s cock had to pop free from his lip’s grasp, Seonghwa complied, shuffling the boxers off his knees and leaving him comfortably exposed.
“Better?”
“Better.” Seonghwa croaked, his throat sore. His head was spinning, averting his attention between all three of their cocks, before finally focusing on San’s again.
“Wow…” San looked past his own dick to gawk at the newly visible one. It was bright red, sore from neglect. He nearly felt bad before remembering that Seonghwa was enjoying this. It was exactly what he signed up for.
Still, Seonghwa’s puppy dog eyes were too much for San, he folded with sympathy within seconds of the sight. “You can touch yourself if you want.”
“Really?” Seonghwa whimpered.
Whatever soft and gentle treatment San was about to pamper him with was cut off by Wooyoung’s simpler answer. “Just make sure you’ve earned it.”
With determination, Seonghwa nodded. First, he wrapped a hand around his own cock, gasping at the contact of his palm’s soft skin. His pretty moans were quickly muffled though as he willingly suckled on the tip of San’s dick. His tongue slid over every crevice between parted lips but it was clear neither his mouth or hand would be moving until San took control.
“You idiot, don’t just stand there. You told him to set the pace and he did. Don’t disappoint us.” Wooyoung continued to redirect the scene in the direction of his ideal fantasy. “Give our good boy the face fucking he deserves.” Greedy as he was, the interruption was the final push necessary to give San the reassurance that he wouldn’t break their poor toy.
Much like before, he pushed himself inside the cavern between Seonghwa’s swollen lips, filling the hole inch by inch. However, this time, there was no resistance until he bottomed out, sharp breaths from Seonghwa’s nose puffing against his abdomen.
Their toy was finally ready to be thoroughly used.
San’s hips pulled back only to snap forward again, filling Seonghwa’s throat with his shaft and subsequently drowning him with hot precum.
Seonghwa only groaned with pleasure, giving slow strokes to his own hard cock in tandem with San’s hesitant movements.
He fucked him again. And again. And again, before deciding that Seonghwa really could take it. He would take it, regardless of his capabilities. Their Hyung was beyond determined to be used that night. Used until San was fucking him at that relentless speed he was desperately begging for. Seonghwa didn’t want time to catch his breath; he wanted San.
Wooyoung eyed the thick liquid dripping from Seonghwa’s cock as it was thrust into his creamy fist with each of San’s movements. Seonghwa’s pale body was being jerked around to his advantage, not even needing to move his wrist to fuck himself in time with San’s thrusts. Wooyoung’s voice was shaky. “See Sannie, he loves it! He’s getting close already.”
San grunted, appreciative of the description that made his imagination go wild. “Fuck, I am too.” His body ached from repeatedly slamming his cock down Seonghwa’s eager throat, the boy somehow still finding time to swallow around him on the way in and out. San threw his head back, exposing a neck full of fading purple and red. “Won’t be much longer.”
“Oh! On his face, please?” Wooyoung begged, clearly getting close himself as well. “I want to see your load so badly. I want to see you all over that pretty face of his.”
San nodded, more than happy to oblige the request. He redirected his attention to Seonghwa, blissed out and hardly paying attention to the world around him. He needed to come back to reality first. “I’m so fucking close. God.” It took all San’s focus to give the simple task. “Cum with me, baby. You can manage that, can’t you?” It was hardly a question. The three boys had mere seconds left of pride before they’d all have to choose where they wanted to empty their loads.
Seonghwa couldn’t answer with words but his eyes, fluttering up at San with both pride of his journey and need for conclusion, said all he needed to know. Seonghwa allowed his jaw to go slack and his neck to fall limp, head only being held upright by large, gentle hands as San fucked the mouth relentlessly, hips on fire and balls tighter than ever.
Right until they weren’t.
With a flash of white, San’s vision went blank, just enough coherence left to fulfill the request of pulling out of Seonghwa’s mouth with a whine, thick and creamy strands still connected to his lips, and blow the rest of his load all over Seonghwa’s tolerant face.
Just as he was told, Seonghwa came with him, holding himself hostage on the edge right until the first gulp of hot cum hit the back of his throat and the second ended up on his cheek. He shook his cock vigorously, making sure every last drop had been milked as San just kept finishing over and over for what felt like forever, covering Seonghwa with a trophy of his hard work.
Ironically, Wooyoung came last, cock intentionally directed up his own body as he spurted ropes of white all over his chest and stomach for no reason other than giving himself a show. While it was only seconds later than the others, he was stubborn, refusing to let himself go without that visual he wanted so badly of Seonghwa’s face, soft cheeks and puffy lips coated in streaks of his boyfriend’s hot load and stripping him of all dignity. He happily licked his own fingers clean of excess while admiring his boys, both satisfied and happy.
While it would usually be considered a waste to see San’s cum anywhere other than in one of his own holes, Wooyoung figured Seonghwa’s lips were free real-estate for a taste. Breaking the barriers of his fantasy, he crawled over and claimed Seonghwa’s mouth with a kiss, much gentler than usual for Wooyoung. Seonghwa, still not sure exactly what was going on, melted right into the feeling of cold lips notching against his own, wet and salty with yet another familiar flavour mixing in to accompany San’s taste.
Barely recovering from his pleasure, San broke out in a beaming smile when his eyes opened to two pretty boys on their knees, sloppily kissing next to his satisfied cock and sharing his taste.
Wooyoung pulled back first, admiring the deer-in-headlights look on Seonghwa’s face. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up so we can ruin you all over again.”
#ateez fic#ateez smut#woosanhwa#woosan#woohwa#sanhwa#atz fic#atz smut#so sorry for making wooyoung a cuck here#it's sexy though so i think it's ok#wooyoung smut#san smut#seonghwa smut
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How the Jedi Order saved my life
Thanks partially to the ambiguity of the internet it inherently breeds negativity - whether it be for post clicks or actual interpretations of content it doesn’t matter, it’s there and it can be very overwhelming and toxic at the best of times.
One of the victims of so much venomous negativity has been the Jedi Order (specifically the Prequel era Order), a fictional band of warrior space monks who are the heroes of the Star Wars saga who’s teachings were mostly inspired by Buddhist philosophy. They were the undisputed “good guys” of that universe for multiple decades and then something shifted in fandom and suddenly people are online advocating that their actual in story genocide was warranted because they “failed”.
I am not here to debate the merits of the Jedi, please don’t make this blog post a platform for THAT argument, what I want to get across in this post is that for me (and this is just my experience) the Jedi are a source of light and in all complete honesty they saved my life.
This is going to be rather personal…
Due to many, many factors including hormonal/health imbalances and personal trauma (including being the one that had to make the decision/call to take my father off life support) I fell into a severe depression for almost 5 years. I pulled away from everything and everyone I loved, I lost multiple jobs, I physically couldn’t get out of bed most of the time. And then came the day I decided to end it all...end the suffering.
I had made a plan, I had made arrangements and set things up for my loved ones after I was gone. I had one day of life left, so I decided to watch the Star Wars saga one last time because it had at one point been such a big part of my life and I wanted one to enjoy it all one final time.
And on this viewing something struck me. The Jedi had literally lost everything, their friends and the galaxy as a whole turned their backs on them which led to the slaughter of their entire organization. The scene where Yoda and Obi-Wan were walking through the Temple just hit me so hard, both of them watching everything they knew crumble all while feeling the weight of grief and loss on a level none of us can even comprehend.
But while their pain was obvious, especially thanks to the tremendous acting talent of Ewan McGregor neither Obi-Wan or Yoda gave up - they had every reason for them to tell the galaxy to go f*ck themselves, but they didn’t. That wasn’t even an option in either of their minds.
It was their teachings that saved them in the end, the concept of learning to let go of their fears and insecurities, of acknowledging their feelings in order to release them and not dwell on them. To realize that failure is the ultimate teacher and learn from their mistakes (real or perceived). That death is a natural part of life and that true love is about being able to let someone go when the time comes. They also showed that it’s important to do the most good that you can with the hand you are dealt with, that life isn’t easy and the temptation to “fall” to the darkside can be very seductive, but ultimately makes you miserable.
The Jedi - the Prequel Jedi (and their code) saved my life that day.
I remember pausing Revenge of the Sith at the moment Obi-Wan held Luke (or Leia) as Padme died, the lost look on his face, and knowing the resolve that character finds within himself forced me to pick up the phone and call the suicide hotline.
What followed has been a year dedicated to nothing but my mental wellbeing. This included finding a creative outlet that had nothing to do with my career (I am a professional FX makeup artist by trade) and so, I returned to my love of writing Star Wars fanfiction. Having a way to explore the teachings of the Jedi and the strength of these characters have helped me in ways I can’t even explain, it was so noticeable that my therapist asked me what I was doing to be able to make such progress.
I’ll say this again for those in the cheap seats - the Jedi saved my life that day...and their teachings have allowed me to love in ways I never thought possible.
Now, I’m not saying I’m converting to the Jedi religion (though I have a friend who has and that is a valid path for those who have chosen it), but the teachings of the Jedi are inherently good - they teach us to get out of our own heads, listen to our feelings and focus on the beauty around us, that we’re all connected and ALL life (including ours) has value.
So, say what you will about the “failures” of the Jedi, but for me I would not be here if it weren’t for them, their code and their strength. And I have George Lucas specifically to thank for that.
From the bottom of my heart I thank you Obi-Wan, Yoda and George.
#personal#personal post#jedi appreciation#jedi positivity#thank you jedi#attachment is not love#self love#the force#jedi teachings#jedi code#i love the jedi#i am here because of the jedi#worth living for#mental heath support#mental heath awareness#suicide prevention
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