#honda loyalty
Text
~ Loyalty ~
prompt: #59 “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face”
requested by @handyulset
summary: Y/N & Honda go to protect Ji-an after Jin-man’s request and only one of them gets out
pairing: Y/N x Jeong Jin-man
warnings: violence, blood, someone dies
word count: 2,534
a/n: I skipped the morgue scene just bc it was already hella long with just setting up the story. Requests are open! Prompt list is there if you guys want extra ideas
Master-List - Prompts
Y/N wasn’t actually sure how many years it had been since her and her brother had seen Jeong Jin-man but she wished she could’ve said it was under better circumstances. Y/N and Honda had heard stories about Bale along her life and even had the misfortune of working with him from time to time so they weren’t surprised when Jin-man spoke about everything that happened on their previous missions.
Y/N had hoped that Jin-mans visit meant he was here to finally settle with his family but then again that would be better circumstances. Now Y/N and Honda find themselves racing in Honda’s car to what was inevitable death most likely. Jin-man had called Honda panicked finding out Bale was back and with his family. He had pleaded with them to go protect his niece which didn’t need much convincing from either of them
Speeding through the streets they only hoped that they were in the clear when they got there. Jin-man informed them that Ji-an wouldn’t let anybody in if they didn’t answer her riddle, smart kid honestly. As they parked up and ran in, in synchronized silence they could hear movement further up the stairs and a small voice on the other side.
As they advanced up the stairs they could see a man peak into the room and duck out slowly, probably looking to see if Ji-an was alone. Then he opened the door again and started to advance towards Ji-an but before his whole body got through the door Honda lurched forward to grab his arm and pull him back hitting his face on the wall. As he did he dragged him back into the hallway closing the door to Ji-an.
As Honda landed an initial punch Y/N who has just under him on the stairs grabbed the mans right leg pulling him straight to the ground. As Y/N pulled him Honda took the time to put on his brass knuckles incase the guy proved more a fight than he looked. As the man hit the floor he scrambled back pulling a knife out of his holster and decided to go for his closest target which was Y/N. She dodged as much as much could but a step only gives you so much lean so she was caught on her cheek but it didn’t make much of an impact to her.
In one movement Honda kicked the guys extended arm throwing him against the wall again and making him drop the knife. As Y/N picked up the knife she followed the upwards movement hitting him with the butt of the knife which was followed by Honda football kicking him one more time knocking the man clean out. It was a good thing Honda closed the door so Ji-an didn’t see any of that. Before moving the man Honda slid into the room to type ‘Stable Tennis’ on his mobile to show Ji-an, the answer to her riddle.
After asking Ji-an to hide in her room Y/N and Honda had moments to decide what to do from here.
“I am not leaving you in here alone Honda that is suicide.” Y/N signed to him angrily. Her brother did always have a death wish when it came to protecting people.
“One of us needs to be first defense what if they wipe us out.” Honda signed back. He knew what had to happen but he thought he had a pretty good chance anyway. It was worth it to repay Jin-man, he promised he’d protect Ji-an. Y/N didn’t have long to argue because they heard people coming up the stairs and Honda took the time to shove Y/N into the room with Ji-an.
Y/N got down to Ji-ans height smiled and waved hoping to not make this more scary but Ji-an was just looking at the cut across Y/N’s cheek. Then the door squeaked open and Y/N put her fingers over her lips to motion Ji-an to be quiet. Y/N motioned Ji-an over to the corner of the room near the window and stood in front of her listening to the sounds.
Then it was a quick sequence of sounds and with every sound Y/N could feel little Ji-an behind her jump. First there was someone crashing through a door then it was silenced gunshots. In that moment Y/N turned around to cover Ji-an’s ears with her hands to cover the sounds of violence but there was no one there for Y/N. She heard the entire exchange having to picture what was happened as she was completely blind and couldn’t move or Ji-an would hear too.
“Who the hell is this bastard.” She heard come through the door. In this moment she started to look around and noticed the very limited options they had. Y/N tried to focus on the conversation but she heard more footsteps and no more punches which only meant one thing. Y/N looked out the window to the drop below and knew the only option she had.
“Can you hang on the other side of the window, down to the pipe?” Y/N wrote on her phone and Ji-an nodded enthusiastically or maybe it was adrenaline. She really was Jin-man’s niece. As Ji-an lowered herself Y/N pulled her knives out of her pocket and positioned herself out of view of the door slightly behind a bookcase, not enough to hide but enough that they wont notice initially.
Y/N waited until at least 1 person had walked completely through and she took a quick wide step into view and hit the first 2 people in her view with a knife in the eye for each dropping them instantly. She low dashed forward to grab the weapon that the first person dropped. As she picked up the axe the 3 people in the living room all turned from looking at Honda on the floor to her. One pulled a gun quickly and shot her in the left shoulder which she retaliated by throwing the newly acquired axe in their head putting them down.
As she adjusted her shoulder another one lunged forward to grab her, as her body got thrown into the living room right next to Honda she finally noticed his arm. While she was preoccupied with her brothers corpse someone landed a kick across her face sending her closer to the front door. Having to adjust quickly Y/N stood up and grabbed one of the umbrellas from the rack to her right. Not exactly a knife but what choice did she have. She lunged forward with the umbrella using it to knock the wind out of the closest guy to her. As his leant down reacting to the hit Y/N grabbed the back of his head and went forward with her knee colliding the two and knocking him out instantly.
She noticed that the other 2 men had gone through the room to Ji-an and she dashed forwards and she could only see one man in the room. Y/N dashed forward grabbing the man before he could notice and sending his head through the unopened window next to him. As he his head split open from the collision with the glass Y/N dragged his body back with so much force he hit his head on the wall on the other side knocking him out.
“JI-AN” Y/N screamed out the window as she could see the other man who had already reached the floor. Y/N flung herself over the window ledge and down the surfaces until she was an ok distance to jump down to the sofas. Just as she landed she heard the car collide with Ji-an and it made the man stop in his tracks. Y/N darted towards Ji-an and the man took the moment to dash in the other direction to avoid her. Luckily someone had already called the ambulance because by the time Y/N got to Ji-an she collapsed from the head wound she didn’t notice.
Luckily the hospital let Y/N sit beside Ji-an after her many protests, she was handling her injuries well and frankly with no guardian for Ji-an present the hospital felt bad for her. So that’s what Jin-man returned too. Ji-an was sleeping in the hospital bed covered in cuts and bruises and Y/N was across the couch with even more cuts and bruises. Y/N was on attack mode woke up just from the sound of the door but settled the moment she noticed it was Jin-man. She stood up and walked towards him motioning to go out into the hallway to let Ji-an sleep.
When she stepped into the light properly Jin-man could see all her injuries, well at least the ones on her face and arms. She had a full slash mark across her cheek and it looked like the bone close to her eye had been busted open. Her arms were covered in contact bruises and ever cuts from the shards of glass from the window. Jin-man struggled to contain the panicked look in his face.
“Are you hurt?” Y/N whispered. He couldn’t believe she was asking him in the moment.
“Are YOU hurt?” He returned the question because frankly it didn’t matter what happened to him.
“No.” She shook her head as she spoke almost dismissing his worry.
“Then why are there bruises all over your face.” He said softly but making sure to add a level of sarcasm. Y/N let out a small laugh in response and Jin-man’s face softened towards her as she looked back into the room towards Ji-an.
“She’s a lot like you y’know. Climbed out a window to survive,” Y/N let out a breathy laugh as she did she turned back to Jin-man who was looking at Ji-an and it was Y/N’s face that softened now, “Doctors said I’d be fine it just hurts like hell, had blood running out of my eye so it will stay red for a while.”
This comment made Jin-man turn back to Y/N and he properly noticed that the white of the right eye was completely red and the eye around completely yellow and purple bruised. He nodded at her comment and couldn’t settle the guilt, he’d gotten her injured and her brother killed.
“It’s not your fault Jin-man,” she spoke clearing the dead air. Maybe she could tell what he was thinking, he chuckled at that thought. If there was anyone to know what he was thinking it was her no matter how neutral his expression, “Honda would’ve done it all over again to protect that little girl, and so would I.”
Y/N reached up and put his hand on his cheek transferring her warmth to him and his shoulders relaxed for a brief moment.
“I’m going to get more sleep you’ll need to find the nurses and get the forms I can’t fill them out because I’m not family, I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Y/N let her hand fall from his face and she walked back into the room. Jin-man just stood there for an extra second to take in the whole situation before he walked towards the nurses desk.
“Excuse me? I’m Jeong Ji-an’s uncle, I got told I needed to fill out some forms?” He said quietly. The nurses head from behind the desk shot up and she shot him a wide customer service smile even if it was 4 in the morning.
“Ah yes, it does need to be a parent if possible?” The nurse replied.
“Mmm, There was an accident both of her parents are gone. It’s just me actually.” As he spoke the words settled in. Bale had killed his brother, SIL, friend and he knew he’d also killed his mother he just couldn’t prove it. He noticed how the nurses face dropped in horror and she stuttered a reply.
“I’m so sorry sir your girlfriend mentioned an accident but didn’t know the details I’ll grab it now.” The nurse whisked away before Jin-man even understand her comment let alone even correct her. When she came back he decided to just fill it out in the waiting area since he needed the light. As he did he kept thinking about the situation over and over again.
As he slowly got further through the paperwork got to emergency contacts. He wrote down his contact information first and then stared at the piece of paper for a while where it said ‘Emergency Contact 2’ His mind wrestled with the thought for a while before he decided to add Y/N’s name as well. He submitted the papers back to the nurse and made his way out of the hospital towards the convenience store across the road.
When Jin-man finally returned Y/N was still awake but she was sat with her back in the corner her eyes fixated on the door like a security turret she was shrouded in complete darkness and her pistol concealed in a pocket with the silencer pointing with a clear shot of the door. Once Jin-man entered in the room Y/N let herself exit the darkness and the moonlight hit her perfectly. Jin-man nodded towards the door for the pair of them to leave Ji-an to sleep.
They walked in silence towards a table that had a clear view of Ji-ans door and they took seats either side and Jin-man pulled out the convenience store bag of food and Y/N chuckled noticing it was everything she normally picks out.
“So what do we do now?” Y/N sighs after taking a bite of food. Jin-man raised his head from the table to look at her and cocked his head to the side raising an eyebrow.
“We?” Was all he managed to save. She lost her brother and she was still willing to help him.
“Of course. Jin-man we have known each other for years. We help people in need and right now Ji-an needs everyone she can, poor little girl just lost her parents.” Y/N spoke so matter of factly in the moment it was throwing Jin-man off internally but he kept composure.
“Honda…” It seemed like he could only speak in one work sentences.
“Would do the same for you if it was me on the floor that day. We have been through hell and back before Jin-man, you think I care for you so little that I’d abandon you now?” Jin-man had never known loyalty like it, he had never known a person who was able to care so deeply in such a horrific world, with everything she had seen and done.
“First I need to go to Babylon, this stops now.” Jin-man hoped that if he said he’s stop hunting Bale then Babylon would call a ceasefire. Y/N nodded slowly. She started to slowly think about what Jin-man had mentioned to her and Honda a couple of days before. He knew her so well it was like he could see the cogs moving so he cocked an eyebrow at her urging her to speak her mind.
“You mentioned a website?”
And that’s how murthehelp began. Y/N took her and her brothers business online and her and Jin-man moved it out into the countryside along with Ji-an. Now to multitask raising a kid and running a shop for killers.
#jeong jin man#jeong jin man fanfic#jeong jin man x reader#jeong jin man x y/n#jeong jin man x you#jeong jin man imagine#a shop for killers#a shop for killers fanfic#a shop for killers imagine#lee dong wook#lee dong wook imagine#lee dong wook fanfic#lee dong wook x reader#lee dong wook x you#lee dong wook x y/n#lee dong wook fanfiction
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Round 2: Poll 7
Propaganda under the cut
Pairing 1:Buddyshipping (Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Hiroto Honda | Tristan Taylor )
Propaganda: honda and jounouchi are the epitome of “idiot x idiot” they’re stupid but most importantly they’re stupid TOGETHER | They bicker like an old married couple and they're CONSTANTLY huggung/romatically fistfight/basically putting their hands all over each other. they are huge goofs.
Pairing 2: Alternateshipping(Dark Magician/Red Dark Magician)
Propaganda:These two are so important to me, the episode about them impacted me deeply. How the red magician fights his counterpart but clearly envies how loyal he is to Atem, and how well Atem treats him, as opposed to Pandora who mistreates him, and then at the end, joining their side to fight alongside his counterpart and finally getting to experience the joy of helping Atems deck, themes of sacrifice and loyalty i am UNWELL | As for Dark Magician/Red Dark Magician OH BOY. There are intense parallels between the two during the duel between Yami and Pandora. They're both duel monsters who are incredibly loyal, one just happens to be in the wrong hands. Red Dark Magician wants someone to be loyal to, someone to appreciate him, and he gets used and betrayed in the end. I think RDM deserves better and be comforted by the one he was made to emulate.
Now, let’s keep things civil. This is a silly poll where we can share why we love our overlooked ships. There’s no need to be nasty to prove your point. Bashers will be banished to the Shadow Realm.
#yugioh dm rare pair poll#ygo dm#yugioh dm#yugioh#ygo#round 2#Buddyshipping#joey wheeler/tristan taylor#Jounouchi Katsuya/Hiroto Honda#alternateshipping#dark magician/red dark magician
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Minivans And Pawnshops
Summary: You were out on a mission for a week, and when Tony, your self-appointed overprotective bodyguard, notices your Greek god of a boyfriend acting weird, he makes it his personal duty to figure out why. By asking Steve what was going on? Hell no. By slipping a Stark Tracker on him and shoving 11 people into an 8-seater Honda Odyssey to follow him.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader
*****
“Take a left.” Friday’s monotone voice rang out.
“Take a left here, Happy,” Tony instructed, looking up from the Stark Map on his phone.
Happy rolled his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of I know, the robot already told me.
“This isn’t necessary, Tony,” You repeated for about the hundredth time. “Steve is not cheating on me.”
“My evidence says otherwise,” Tony urged Happy to drive faster, earning a grumble from the latter. “He’s acting very suspicious, always going out and coming back late every time.”
“Actually, I can vouch for Tony on that one,” Clint adds from his squished place in the last row of the mini-van, practically sitting in an annoyed Natasha’s lap. “He’s been acting pretty weird.”
“Doesn’t automatically mean that he’s cheating,” You defended. “He probably has other reasons.”
“Fine. Cheating or fight club. Which would you prefer?” Tony cocked his head at you, and you shoved it back.
“If he is bedding another woman, I will make sure he cannot bed any woman ever again!” Thor declared loudly into your ear, Wanda also wincing on the other side of him.
“You mean cut his dick off?” Sam piped in from the back, who was purposefully shoving into Bucky with every turn the car made.
“Um, indeed. I think so,” Thor shrugged. “I am not sure what I meant either.”
“Uh Mister Stark?” Peter turns around from the passenger seat that he was sharing with a very uncomfortable Bruce. “Did you really have to bring all of us? I have a lot of math homework to finish.”
Tony waved him off. “I have like 30 assistants back at the tower, kid. Someone will do it for you. Plus, all of us have to catch Rogers in the act and publicly shame him.”
You turned back to Tony, remembering what you both were initially arguing about after the ringing in your ear settled down. “You didn’t have to sneak a damn tracking device on him! You could have just asked what he was doing like a normal person.”
“Fuck being normal. At least be grateful that I waited for you until you came back from your mission to catch him red handed.” Tony smirked. “Or should I say cum handed.”
Everyone gagged.
“Actually, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Vision frowned, basically underneath Wanda. “The semen technically would not be in the Captain’s hand, unless-”
“Vis, honey.” Wanda just shook her head.
“Plus, I already asked Cyborg over here.” Tony pointed to the back at Bucky, who was still glaring at Sam. “He went uhh, I don’t know and ran away,” Tony said in his best dumb jock voice.
“Nothing is going on, Tony.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Just turn the car around.”
“I agree with Barnes.” Natasha kicked Tony’s seat from the third row. “Turn around, Happy.”
Bucky looked past Sam and Clint, who were hitting each other’s knees with their own. “Steve told you too?” He asked in Russian with a raised eyebrow.
Natasha shook her head with a smirk. “No. I’m just smart like that.”
“Too late, buddy,” Tony ignored their secret conversation, flashing a fake smile over his shoulder. “Like the great John B once said, ‘We didn’t come this far to get this far’.”
Peter whipped around once again, his eyes lighting up at the quote. “Mister Stark, I’m really glad that you’re watching my TV show recommendations, but I’m pretty sure someone else said it before he did-”
“Happy, take another left here.” Tony called out, mimicking the AI who just said it seconds before.
You rolled your eyes, the red dot in the center of Brooklyn on the phone screen catching your attention. You had no reason to doubt Steve’s loyalty toward your relationship. He loved you and you loved him and you knew that he would never do anything to hurt you. But, you were curious as to why Steve was apparently acting weird while you were gone, and what the hell he was doing in Brooklyn.
“Trust me, Tone. He’s not cheating. I’ll just ask him when he comes back, it’s probably just some stuff he has to take care of.”
“C’mon guys,” Bucky pressed. “Let’s turn around. I need to pee or something.”
“Hm, sounds like you're in denial.” Tony said to you, ignoring Bucky once again. “Don’t worry, the next step will be coming soon. Anger,” Tony announced with a grin like it was some kind of flashy news headline.
“Tony, why the hell does it sound like you want my boyfriend to be cheating on me.”
“Aw come on, it’s not like that,” Tony gestured at Happy to take a right. “I’m just looking out for you.”
You rolled your eyes once again, rubbing your wrist, remembering the death grip Tony had on you earlier as he dragged you into the light blue Honda Odyssey packed tight of Avengers in the back of his garage. He was saving it for his future family, he had claimed when you asked why Tony Stark of all people owned a minivan.
“Stop!” Tony yelled, and Happy quickly stepped on the brake, sending everyone flying forward. You heard Bruce and Peter groaning in the front. “This is it. The big reveal,” he announced.
You immediately scooted ever closer to Tony as he pressed his forehead to the window.
“He’s having an affair with . . .” Tony paused with a frown, his sunglasses sliding down the slope of his nose. “The owner of Vintage Pawn Shop?”
Pawn shop? Didn't Steve say something about a pawn shop a while back?
Identical confused eyebrow furrows made their way onto everyone’s faces, except Bucky’s and Natasha’s, as you spotted your unmistakable 6 foot 2 super soldier through the glass littered with fingerprints.
He was describing something to the old lady working in the store, looking hopeful and tired, like he had been searching for it for days. She nodded and raised her finger in a one minute, honey type of way and started rummaging through some things behind the counter. She pulled out a small box from somewhere, opening it and gently placing it in front of Steve.
You squinted your eyes, accidentally shoving Tony’s head into the window of the car as you craned your neck closer, trying to read the woman’s lips.
She said something along the lines of This might be what you’re looking for, sweetie, and Steve’s eyes lit up, a clear wave of nostalgia crashing over him. With gentle calloused fingers, he lifted a ring out of the box, admiring it with a soft smile.
“Friday,” Tony called out, face still squished between you and the car window. “Connect to the store’s CCTV.”
Before you could ask since when the hell Friday could do that, the Stark Map with a You have arrived at your destination adorned on its screen quickly was replaced with the live footage from the store’s cameras.
“Did this belong to someone that you knew, honey?” The old woman’s kind voice grainily made its way through the speaker of Tony’s phone as she noticed Steve’s eyes glistening with tears.
Everyone tried to move closer to the phone for Steve’s reply in the overcrowded car. “Ow!” You heard Clint yell, probably at Sam. “That was my foot, dumbass!” He was immediately shushed.
“Yeah.” Steve nodded, still smiling at the ring. “My ma’s.”
Multiple gasps were heard throughout the car, Happy’s being the loudest.
A weeks old, sleepy memory that was buried deep into your brain immediately flooded back.
You and Steve were wrapped around each other, your ear pressed to his heart, slowly lulling you to sleep with a familiar beat.
“Y’know, you remind me of my ma.” Steve randomly declared against your hair, and you peered up at him to meet the soft currents in his eyes. “Beautiful. Kind. Doesn’t take shit from anyone.”
He pressed a kiss to your lips as you smiled, cupping your face to pull back and look at you. He stared lovingly at you for a while, settling into a comfortable silence.
“Everything okay?” You turned your head to kiss his palm. The last time he had looked at you for this long without talking, it was right before he burst into tears after you had almost died on a mission.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Just thinking.” He pulled you back into his chest, placing another kiss on your forehead. “She would’ve loved you.”
After a little bit of silence, he spoke again. “Her ring was beautiful.”
“Oh?” You hummed.
“Yeah.” He nuzzled his nose into your cheek, a slight Brooklyn accent slipping through as he talked slowly, his words laced with sleep. “Don’t know where it is, but I wanna find it for you. I’ll look through every pawn shop in the state. And when I find it I’ll propose when the time’s right under the stars and you’ll say yes because you’re just like my ma, and Ma loved me more than anything in the world.”
If Steve had brought up the topic of marrying you during the day when you were wide-awake, you probably would have had a stroke of happiness.
But right now, it was night.
It was night and you were half-asleep, wrapped up in Steve’s warm arms, feeling more at peace there than you ever had anywhere else.
Nothing but peace.
So you just drowsily grinned into his bare chest, your hand snaking up to rest on his cheek. “She loved you more than anything in the world, huh?” You repeated. “Well then I guess your Ma and I are pretty similar.”
You looked up from the screen and back at the window, staring at the ring in Steve’s hand with wide eyes. The sunlight bounced off of it and the jewel sparkled in the light with an elegant touch. Steve was right- it was absolutely gorgeous.
A smile crept onto your face, matching the one on Steve’s.
“Why the hell are you smiling?” Tony’s voice interrupted your daze. “He’s gonna propose to the side chick!”
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I turned 22 and graduated from college today ‼️
Here’s 22 things I’m grateful for:
1. Finally getting my fucking degree
2. My parents, and for what they provided me with
3. The support and understanding that my brother has always given me
4. My friends who have served as my biggest lessons in love
5. My dog and cat for their loyalty
7. My grandma’s neighbor who taught me how to swim
8. Those times where I fucked up so badly that I had no choice but to change
9. Being read to every night as a child
10. My ninth grade English teacher
11. My best friends old Honda
13. Being forced to walk to school
14. Rejections that hurt before realizing it’s for the best
15. The mountains that I grew up in
17. The librarians who memorized my student id number
18. Luck saving me when my hard work failed
19. The trust I’ve begun to build within myself
20. Having a home to come back to
21. Thunderstorms in the summer
22. Anyone who has ever read my written work, including my astrology posts here on tumblr. It means so much knowing that people have taken the time to understand my thoughts. Thank you <3
Sorry if this is a lil’ corny :p but I felt like sharing :)
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Sorry if I didn't include your favorite rarepair on the list; limited space so I had to pick a few of admittedly my personal favorites.
So which rarepair do you think deserves more love in the yu-gi-oh fandom?
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pedrenzo and 34... thank u
34. things you whispered in my ear
Valencia 2018.
When he approaches the Honda garage about an hour before they all have to head out for the sighting lap, Jorge has knots in his stomach.
He’s aware that he’s never been welcomed there (might already be worried about how things will be next year) and he chose neutral clothes to not stand out but he can still consider himself lucky when it’s Marc he first runs into.
“What are you doing here?” Marc asks, his tone a hint of accusatory.
Lucky might have been an exaggeration. Marc always pretended to never take a side when the whole Dani/Jorge contract thing happened but Jorge knows where Marc’s loyalty stands. It’s okay, he would have sided with Dani too if he wasn’t the one being opposed to him.
“Hey, you’re already champion, play nice,” Jorge says with a roll of his eyes. Marc might be 25 now but sometimes he terribly reminds Jorge of the little shit he was back when he arrived in the premier class and Jorge has to treat him as such.
(They’re friends now, it’s fine.)
“Can you help me find Dani?” Jorge adds quietly. Marc caught him at the entry of the Honda garage and grabbed his arm to push them in a quieter corner but Jorge still doesn’t feel safe. He still has a goal in mind, too.
“Are you sure he wants to see you?”
“Marc, please. This is important.”
To the point where Jorge is ready to beg for Marc’s help even if that will bruise his ego and he’ll need like a week to recover and—
“If Dani is mad at me, you’ll owe me something, I’ll figure it out later,” Marc cuts him out of his thoughts. “Follow me closely, keep your head down.”
Jorge does as he’s told and keeps his eyes on Marc’s shoes until they reach what looks like Dani’s rider room. “You two are the worst. Don’t ruin this for him.”
Jorge doesn’t have time to defend himself before Marc disappears. He takes a deep breath before finding the courage to knock on Dani’s door. He’s quick to get inside once he’s received a “Yes” from the other side.
It probably sounds like the silliest of things to say and maybe it’s just Jorge being stupidly in love (and finally able to acknowledge his feelings, at that) but being in a room with Dani instantly makes him feel better, his heart calming down.
Dani is sitting on his massage table, clad in only his base layers with his iPad in one hand, a page of telemetry data open from where Jorge can see.
“Hey,” Dani says, breaking the silence between them.
“Hi,” Jorge answers. “I wanted to see you one last time before the race.”
And then he takes the couple of steps which separate him from Dani, placing himself in-between Dani’s knees. His hands find Dani’s, the iPad put to the side, and he squeezes them, just once. Dani squeezes back.
It’s funny how you can think about a moment for hours, repeat the words you want to say in loops in your head to the point you no longer know if the sentences even make sense, and then when the moment comes, you blank and no sound can escape your mouth anymore.
Amazing feature of the human brain, really.
Jorge tries to open his mouth, closes it, repeats the sequence again.
Dani sweeps both of his thumbs over his knuckles.
A few months ago, Jorge didn’t even know if he could have this. When Dani and him got together a few years back, they promised each other that they wouldn’t let this sport —the other love of their life, really— come between them and that they would be smart about the issues that would inevitably happen.
Jorge will probably never know if there was even a smart option for their situation but even if it took a certain amount of fights and nights where he had to cry himself to sleep from a mix of sadness and frustration, they made it in the end.
That’s what matters now.
“If you make me cry before the race, I think Marc will find you and physically hurt you,” Dani says quietly.
It makes Jorge snort, a smile sliding on his face, replacing what must have been way too serious of an expression.
“He’s still such a fucking menace, it’s insane.”
“We were having our last championship battle back when you were his age, you want me to remind you how insane you were then?”
Jorge chuckles. Touché. Dani deserves Marc’s support anyway. Jorge is glad that he has people like that in his life.
They stare into each other’s eyes after that, Jorge with his throat a little too tight. Then Dani says “Come on, you need to go back to your team and I need to finish getting ready” and he gets up from the massage table to capture Jorge in a crushing hug, his arms secure around Jorge’s waist.
Jorge squeezes him back, hard. He dips his head and kisses the skin of Dani’s neck before taking a deep breath there.
His voice is barely a whisper when he finds Dani’s ear before letting go of him. “Go show everyone how it’s done today. I love you and I’m so proud of you.”
Jorge leaves right after that and doesn’t get to know if he made Dani cry.
In any case, he’s the one with eyes slightly burning when he makes his way back to the Ducati garage.
send me a pairing + a number and I’ll write a little something.
#rpf#dani pedrosa#jorge lorenzo#2699#prompt fill#my writing#first idea was supposed to be much lighter and less emotional but eh
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Friend
Summary: After Melissa breaks up with Gary, Barbara insists on staying the night with her. [Post-3.01]
CW: Alcohol; Emotional Infidelity
AO3 Link
—
Barbara is vaguely aware that she should probably let Melissa set the tone.
An obliging friend would anyway.
A supportive one.
If Melissa wants to haul ass in her Honda Civic and drive away without saying nary a word, then fine, reasonable, absolutely and resoundingly valid—that’s how she’s chosen to cope. An obliging friend would make sure that she has her keys. Tell her that she loves her. Open the double doors for her on the way out.
I’ll check on you tomorrow, girlfriend.
Drive safe and call me if you need me.
Conversely, if the younger woman wants to yell and scream—kick a desk over and then kick it again, punch the nearest brick wall, issue a string of vicious Italian curses between her teeth—then that would be perfectly intelligible, too. A more than reasonable reaction to the nonsense that her paramour just pulled, embarrassing her like that in front of God and Jalen Hurts! (Mmph! The audacity of him! The absolute nerve! Barbara had told him—at least twice that she recalls—that it was a bad idea to propose. She hadn’t even been intending to help him. She had just wanted to minimize the startling possibility that Melissa could be hurt.)
A supportive friend would dutifully be there in the ugly aftermath, double and triple-checking that the second grade teacher didn’t accidentally break a toe, wrapping her bloodied knuckles in gauze.
Let it all out, she’d maybe say.
I’m here for you.
Now, in theory and moderate practice, it’s all well and good for people to be obliging and supportive. They’re admirable traits that Barbara would advocate in any Christian worth their paid tithes. But the crucial problem—(well, the one that she’s willing to admit to anyway)—is that Barbara Howard, for all of her upstanding moral fiber, has never once been the obliging type, having learned unshakeable grit long ago in the Sisyphean grind of the Philadelphia public school system.
And moreover, even though she would be the first to proclaim her undying loyalty, that’s far from synonymous with her support. The kindergarten teacher would crawl over hot coals to be there for Melissa Schemmenti.
That’s loyalty.
The primal abnegation—the inherent masochism—of love.
But to helplessly watch her best friend punish herself over yet another undeserving man has never been her inclination nor her particular strong suit.
So, if the two choices are to let Melissa run away or further hurt herself, to be obliging or to be supportive —(and these have always been the two choices when Melissa has been in pain)—then Barbara chooses neither, which is to say as soon as the bell rings and all of her students have been ushered to the gym, she chooses to stride over to the classroom across the way and plant herself firmly in the door, folding her arms over her chest.
“I’m driving you home this evening,” she declares and is glad to find that her voice is gentle. (She had been afraid all afternoon that the consolation would come out a little wrong.)
(That she would slip up and sound relieved.)
(And she is that—assuredly.)
(She’s so relieved that Gary the Vending Machine Guy didn’t get to make such a half-assed proposal and get away with it. Perhaps a little inappropriately, she thanks God for his divine mercy in ensuring that the karmic struggle bent towards justice.)
(But she also knows that she has no right to advertise this sensation—this incredible, gut-wrenching relief—somewhere that her friend might see it. She may not be supportive—(hell, she might not even entirely be kind ) —but she isn’t callous. She isn’t cruel.)
Melissa is at her desk, half-slumped in her perpetually creaking seat, staring at nothing at particular. The wall. A faded poster of the solar system. Dust notes suspended in the sunlight trickling in through the blinds. There are sweeping shadows beneath her eyes where her mascara has been running. A telltale redness around the nose.
“Barb,” she starts tiredly, only barely glancing her way, “you don’t hafta—“
But Barbara intercepts her protestations neatly.
“—I want to,” she insists, intending to step forward and just as suddenly reluctant to even try, discerning something horrible in the other woman’s eyes that terrifies her.
Something unnervingly still.
Something broken.
She distinctly remembers that the last time Melissa’s eyes had looked like that, she’d been staring down the barrel of an acrimonious divorce. She didn’t smile for an entire year. She just pretended to when she thought that people were rightfully concerned.
“We could… have a girl’s night, perhaps,” she presses on, perhaps a little hesitant at first, sensing that she’s sidling up to an invisible wall. “Yes, a true lady’s evening! Drink a lot of wine. Watch Jeopardy! Order takeout from that—mmm, oh what’s it called?—that… that interesting pizzeria on the corner. The one next to the Shell Station that was robbed last year.”
“It’s Rizzo’s, and you hate that crap,” Melissa snorts humorlessly, never once missing a beat, an expert at finding meaning in her ellipsis. “Said it gave ya indigestion.”
“But you love it,” Barbara returns emphatically, lips kneading into a fond smile. It’s a sorry excuse for a restaurant in her opinion, the pizza greasy, the garlic bread overseasoned. and to add insult to improperly cooked injury, the owners are tremendously rude, always complaining when shedares to complain about the lacking quality of their products. But that’s not the point. The point is: “I’ll guzzle some Pepto. And if it comes down to it, indulge in a Tums.”
I’d do anything to make you happy.
Her smile widens and she dares to hope for something of a crooked grin in return, but Melissa doesn’t seem to find this playful gesture of self-sacrifice nearly half as amusing—nor even endearing for that matter—finally meeting her in the eye, a certain hardness in her tall face, a steeliness that is willing to cut.
“I don’t want your pity,” she mutters, quiet defiance in every syllable, audible defeat in the strained silence that follows.
Barbara knows that her friend has to say some version of this line. She has to make it perfectly clear that she thinks she’s hard to love, and then, for some godforsaken reason, she feels compelled to go as far as proving it, street fighting with just her teeth.
“And you’re not getting it either,” she says firmly, shaking her head.
“I’d be a blessed fool to ever pity you, Melissa Schemmenti.”
More silence weaves its way into the gap, as thick and as complicated as a rope between them. The younger woman scrutinizes her closely, trying to locate the mockery that she seems to perpetually assume is there, while Barbara stares just as intensely back, refusing to let her arrive at such a profoundly incorrect conclusion in the first place.
“And you couldn’t possibly be that, could ya, Barb?” The second grade teacher eventually sighs, a wane smile bobbing to her dark lips. “Anybody’s fool?”
“Exactly,” she agrees with a certain smugness, rightfully intuiting that she’s won. “And you're nobody’s pity project either. Now grab your purse, sweetheart. As the kids would say, we’re blowing the lid off of this popsicle stand."
But for all this—their familiar back-and-forth, the other woman's stunning pain, their mutual agreement that Barbara isn't a fool when it comes to all matters Melissa—Melissa remains unmoving, though clearly not untouched. She blinks once, and Barbara sees that her pale eyes are overbright, everything about her so tender and visibly scraped raw.
“You serious about this?” She rasps, achingly vulnerable, almost child-like as she sits with her hands loosely templed on top of her desk. “You don’t… gotta babysit me, y’know. I’m gonna be just fine.”
“I know that,” Barbara exhales softly, and more than that, fundamentally believes it. She believes with every atom in her that her best friend is going to get through this latest tribulation with all her pieces intact, that she’s Melissa Schemmenti, for goodness sake, and she’s never known a challenge that she couldn’t capably meet.
“But let me take care of you tonight anyway,” she finishes, all kindness and ferocious warmth for the woman six feet across from her in this cold and empty room.
Her colleague of some twenty-odd years.
Her sister.
Her partner—as loaded as that word is, as Barbara often pretends for it not to be.
“God, you’re such a gagootz,” comes an affectionate reply, and then a hitch of a laugh of a poorly concealed sob.
“Only for you,” she teases right back and shifts slightly on the balls of her feet, suddenly discomfited by the idea that she could actually possibly mean it.
She swallows lightly and shoves the traitorous thought into one of the innumerable drawers of her mind. Locks it. Rebelliously holds on to the key.
—
Barbara is more than aware that she probably shouldn’t prod the freshly exposed wound. An obliging friend wouldn’t anyway—a supportive one.
But in their particular friendship, where the only barrier between them sometimes is the fabric that separates their brushing skin, pushing a little harder than they should is an implicit given for them, if only because they know the other is so prone to pulling away.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Barbara asks on the drive away from her own house, where she picked up an overnight bag: some clothes, her toiletries, a bottle of unopened wine, her CPAP machine. She feels guilty for abruptly canceling on Gerald. She’d made plans with him and just as immediately bailed when there were suddenly more important things.
When there was Melissa.
To his lasting credit, he immediately understood.
Her wonderful husband always understands when it comes to Melissa, something complicated in his eyes and maddeningly patient in his weathered smile whenever they talk about her. Barbara doesn’t know what to make of these microgestures, nor does she try to decode them into an alphabet that makes sense when they’re both currently content to let their arcane meanings go unworded.
Instead, she grips the sun-baked leather of her steering wheel all the tighter, and asks Melissa if she wants to talk about her pain, perhaps solely for the reason that she won’t have to spend any unnecessary time interrogating her own.
“Nope,” Melissa grunts unhelpfully, eyes eclipsed behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses. “Nothing to talk about. I had a boyfriend. He wanted somethin’ more than that, and I, uh, couldn’t… I could never give that… I mean—and now I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. Simple as that.”
But Barbara hears the clumsy slippage of words, the implicit pain there, the story her best friend is choosing to tell herself, the solely placed blame.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” she murmurs, easing to a stop light that’s just turned red. She takes the lull for the opportunity that it is, reaching over without looking, placing a hand on Melissa’s wrist where it lays across the console. Squeezing once.
Gently—always gently.
Not letting go, even though she absolutely should.
“You told that man. You told him and you told him, and you explicitly told him. It’s hardly on you if he was too obtuse to ever get it.”
“He’s not obtuse,” Melissa snaps, suddenly pulling her hand back into her lap. The violence of it shocks them both, the silence taut, frayed and fraying. Somewhere in the unbearable static, the light turns green without either of them ever being really aware.
The rusty sedan behind them honks at Barbara to go.
She presses the pedal with a little more force than is required.
“Sorry,” the second grade teacher mutters, flushing a little, tugging at her seatbelt strap. “It’s just… if he’s obtuse, then what am I, y’know? We both thought we were on the same page, and here it turns out I can’t open any book without makin’ spaghetti of the words.”
“Melissa,” she exhales softly. She doesn’t know what to say to such a revealing proclamation, where to even begin, how to unpick a skein of self-loathing that’s as convoluted as that, the threads unwilling to be anything else but a tangled ball.
“Which is why I don’t wanna talk about it yet,” the younger teacher shrugs, harshly swiping at the skin beneath her eyes, angling her body away. “I gotta figure out how to explain it all to myself first.”
“And would it be too much to ask for you to be kind to yourself in that process?” Barbara can’t help but ask, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the road, fingers tightly locked around the wheel. “To afford yourself the same grace that you so generously bestow to others?”
To Gary the Vending Machine Guy.
To Joseph.
You always take up for fools who don’t deserve it, she bitterly thinks and half-despises herself for it. Melissa can’t help who she loves, anymore than Barbara can’t help but drop everything to be there for Melissa, which is probably the same thing as saying that Barbara can’t help who she loves either.
It's a terrifying thought, one that the kindergarten teacher can't exactly afford to entertain when there's a diamond studded ring on her fourth finger that Gerald took out a loan for when they were just twenty-five. He was besotted with her, and she liked him so very much, and she thought that the safe boundaries of marriage would teach her how to love a man like a good woman of God.
Melissa only offers another listless shrug, staring out of the window as the city passes them by.
A blur of color and light.
Streaks of meaningless sound.
—
They fall into a familiar routine, the same metronomic cadence that they know by heart after nearly three decades of jokingly calling each other home. They eat. They drink. (Barbara swills copious amounts of Pepto to deal with that disgusting pizza.) They curl up on Melissa’s plastic-covered couch beneath the knit blanket that her nonna made and watch Jeopardy!, shouting out the answers at nearly the exact same time. When the show is over, they drink even more, quickly draining Barbara’s cheap bottle of Merlot to the lees. Melissa moves on to some old beer she had in her outside fridge, refusing to touch her good stuff—the vintage wines, the nice beers, her impressive collection of bourbons—for the occasion.
Barbara decides to sober up in case Melissa needs her, exchanging her delicate wine glass for a plastic Hooters cup filled with water.
The younger woman’s face gets steadily rosier the more she indulges, petals blooming across her cheek, a pleasant ruddiness shading the tip of her nose. She laughs a little too hard at the harmless sitcom that they’re not even really watching. She tucks her feet beneath Barbara’s thigh on the couch to warm them, causing the kindergarten teacher to inexplicably shiver. Around ten, she drunkenly muses about the astonishing merits of her own breasts.
“Gary called ‘em the best honkers he’s ever seen,” she says suddenly, two-thirds into her second Miller Lite, staring down at her cleavage with a frown that makes her plump lower lip poke out.
Barbara nearly chokes on her water, spilling a little on her blouse, her own gaze unwittingly magnetized to the objects in question—specifically, the way the divot of them is just barely visible at the low neck of her shirt. Cream-colored things, smooth and deliciously warmed in the golden glow of the lamp, delicately freckled with sun-spots from so many youthful days spent out in the sun.
“Used t’think that’s the best compliment a guy’s ever given me,” the younger woman half-smiles, “‘cuz my only point of reference was Joe sayin’ I should get a touch up on my boob job.”
The explicit reference to Melissa’s ex-husband snaps Barbara out of her reverie, a cold splash of water over the heat that had been incrementally rising in her face by degrees.
“Joseph was a manchild and a heathen,” she sniffs primly, finally feeling comfortable enough with the details of Melissa’s divorce to confidently say so. Of course, six years ago, she also thought as much and occasionally said it, too, but that only ended with her and Melissa bitterly arguing over what sort of treatment that the second-grade teacher seemed to think she deserved.
Time must really heal all wounds, though, because now, Melissa only limply chuckles between drags of stale beer.
“And if the only compliment that men can ever muster about you concerns the state of your bosom—impressive though it certainly may be—then they don’t deserve the opportunity to compliment you at all,” she finishes pointedly, tapping her long nails against the side of her water. (By goodness, and dear almighty God, she’s trying to let it escape her notice that the Hooters logo is an incredibly apt brand for the conversation they’re currently having, but it's a damn uphill climb when the whole cup is nearly the same shade of Melissa's hair.)
The younger teacher must sense that they've arrived at dangerous grounds, though, skating around the very perimeter of a conversation that she’s so clearly unwilling to entertain, because she polishes the last of her beer off in one gulp and adeptly changes the subject.
“So you think my rack is impressive, huh?” She suddenly smirks, eyes twinkling in the dim light.
“Girlfriend!” Barbara immediately groans, shutting her eyes as something lurches within her at the insinuation. A twinge at the seething core of her. A not particularly unpleasant warmth coiling upwards from the pit of her stomach, coloring her insides the most intoxicating shades of red: scarlet, crimson, candied apple, vermilion.
The exact shade of Melissa Schemmenti’s vivid lips.
“I-I didn’t mean it like that!”
She suddenly feels the pressing need to go to church, but since that’s not currently an option, maybe a cold shower and an unspecified prayer for forgiveness will have to do.
Melissa only laughs at her, long and almost offensively hard, clutching her soft belly.
“Ha!” She wheezes. “I’m not sure there are other ways t’mean it, Barb.”
—
A little after midnight, Barbara finally settles into the guest bedroom that she knows used to be where Joseph slept in the bitter months leading up to the divorce. It’s small but cozy, containing everything she needs to get through the night—a good mattress, a nightstand, an outlet to plug in her phone and sleep apnea machine—and yet, the kindergarten teacher finds herself in a hopeless war in the pursuit of stillness. She tries to read a few pages from the Danielle Steel book that she picked up from the library, but all the words just seem to fall off the page. She scrolls through her phone for a bit—checking emails, liking Facebook memes, adding to the grocery list in her notes—and just as abruptly stops when she sees that she missed a goodnight text from Gerald a few hours ago.
Night, hon. Sweet dreams. Give Melissa my love.
It’s entirely kind—(Gerald is and always will be)—and it excavates her on the spot for some obscure reason that she is unwilling to try and name. She slams her phone down like it’s the fabled Book of Judgment, flicks off the lamp, and attempts to finally go to sleep, but the smothering dark just becomes a convenient cover for her less palatable thoughts, ones explicitly having to do with the woman in the master bedroom next door.
Did she make it into the shower alright?
Take her medicines, shimmy into some pajamas?
(What sort of pajamas does her best friend wear when she's at home and no one is looking anyway? Surely, not a full set—such as the kind that Barbara prefers. Old t-shirts? A nightgown? Perhaps simply her undergarments.)
(Maybe even nothing at all.)
(Barbara shivers in the darkness and idly wonders if the same reason that she cringes when Gerald is kind to her is because she spends her nighttime hours wondering what Melissa does or doesn't sleep in. She sternly dismisses the thought. Calls it absurd. Absolutely needs it to be. Cathedrals of bare flesh erect themselves in her mind anyway: a temple of a body, suffused in a divine and feminine glow.)
Is Melissa finally asleep, the copious amounts of booze that she drank blissfully washing her away into the gentle sea of the night?
Or, is she lying alone in bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling too?
Thinking about Gary.
Heartbroken over the loss of a man who could have treated her far better than he did.
It shouldn’t really concern her, and yet it does. Absolutely. Every unanswered question jabs at her as she lies in the bed that Melissa’s ex-husband used to sleep in, hopelessly trying to get comfortable under such inherently distressing conditions. She squirms, writhes, tosses and inevitably turns.
She just as suddenly stills at the plaintive knock on her bedroom door.
“Barb?” The familiar voice leans tiredly against the wood. “You still up?”
“Yes,” she just barely breathes, slowly gathering herself into an upright position. Then louder, sounding much more like herself: “Mhm. Come on in.”
The invitation is heeded, the door swinging open to reveal Melissa in the silvery pool of the hallway’s night light, hair still damp from the shower, wearing nothing but an old Eagles shirt that just barely covers the tops of her thighs.
Barbara swallows thickly, a kaleidoscope of sensations whirling through her stomach: so many colors, indecorous thoughts, and sickly desires.
Needs.
The very center of her tightens, shifts uneasily in response to this unprecedented sight that she'd just been vaguely dreaming of. She doesn’t remember the last time she saw something that she could so easily name as beautiful.
“Couldn’t sleep?” She croaks, loathing how affected her voice sounds, every syllable touched. It’s just her best friend after all, half-naked in the dripping light, looking strangely small in the tall frame of the door.
Nothing worth getting her panties in a twist about.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Melissa confirms, pulling a hand through her hair. “... I’d forgot how much I hate bein’ alone.”
It’s the type of vulnerable confession that the second-grade teacher would never, ever admit in the cold light of day, but here, in the complicated darkness, all of her inhibitions loosened by booze, Barbara can see that the younger woman thinks it might be permissible to finally be truthful.
Maybe, by the morning time, she’ll even forget that she ever was.
“I’m here,” Barbara murmurs, suddenly aware of the painful emptiness of the space next to her, like it’s a hole in her side, an untenable absence, needing attention. How pathetic of her.
How lonely.
(She has an incredible, caring husband.)
(Why in God’s blessed name is she lonely even still?)
“You always are,” Melissa agrees, apparently hearing the doubled-speak, too, and with that, there’s nothing else for her to do except crawl into bed next to Barbara, the mattress shuddering with her added weight.
And then there they are, two women lying in the same bed, side-by-faithful-side.
Shoulders just touching.
Hips.
Thighs.
The delicate bones of their ankles.
Melissa’s hair tickles Barbara’s neck.
Barbara's heart revolts in its ivory cage.
“I keep thinkin’,” the second-grade teacher eventually starts, slowly spooning the awful words into the bigness and the blackness of it all, “what if Gary was it? What if that cavolo was the best I’m gonna get at sixty-years old, and I just let him slip away ‘cause I don’t ever wanna see a big, shiny rock on my finger again? He was good to me. He cared. He could do his own laundry, and he always let me have the last beer. Shouldn’t that have been enough, Barb? Would it have killed me to give it a go?”
Barbara more than understands that these musings are not exactly for her—spoken to her, yes, but that’s not the same as directed at her, requiring her opinion, her precise judgments, her thoughts, her thoughts, her spinning, desperate thoughts. The younger woman is just venting, exhaling the noxious fumes before they can build up in her nervous system and explode.
Perhaps a good friend—an obliging one, a supportive one—would just let her do it. Get it all out there, and let her eventually fall asleep to sound of absolute silence. There’s no harm to be done in that, no stain on her immaculate soul if she does nothing that will make her feel like she needs to atone the next morning.
But, of course, maybe the crucial problem isn’t that Barbara Howard isn’t obliging and supportive.
Maybe the essential crux, the truth that she has tried desperately hard to alienate and annihilate and so cleverly elide, is that it has been a long, long time since friend has been a sufficient enough epithet for the intimacy that exists between herself and the woman scarcely inches away in the dark of this room.
Maybe friend is just the necessary lie that the kindergarten teacher tells herself to make it through the day.
Something easily digestible, a poison that she doesn’t have to think too hard about to continually swallow.
But this particular epiphany, as revelatory as it is, as equally disruptive, is quickly cut off at its knees, oxygen deprived, neatly culled in the well-pruned garden of Barbara’s mind. She cannot think these things.
They’re dirty, simply blasphemous.
And yet, she can’t just let Melissa go unanswered either; she can’t let her go around thinking that she’s too damaged to fully love.
“But shouldn’t the precise inverse be true as well, Melissa?” She asks, perhaps a little fiercer in the darkness, and yet, every bit as exacting as she would be in the light. “That if he had loved you enough, he would have listened and met you where you were at? What is a marriage but a signed paper between two people? If he loved you enough, why on God’s green and almighty Earth did he require a government stamp as certified proof?”
Her chest heaves with the weight of this line of questioning; she feels strangely proud of this outburst and simultaneously sick that she does, the bitter extremes chasing each other in whorls in the pit of her gut, totally irreconcilable, both awful and glorious.
There’s no catharsis for the longest time either, the silence gnawing upon them both with razor-sharp teeth, puncturing their already tender skin.
“Melissa,” she bites her lip, fearing she’s finally gone too far, said too much, revealed something about herself that she can't possibly take back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—"
But the second-grade teacher cuts across her.
“It wasn’t a dick move for him to propose.” And Barbara can hear it in the shattered facets of her voice, how hard she’s trying not to cry—not even here in the darkness where no one except the good Lord can ever really see. “It wasn’t his fault I’m effed in the head.”
“You are not —” She starts vehemently.
“I am.”
“You didn’t settle, Melissa Schemmenti,” she insists, reaching over into the barest gap between them and decisively grabbing the younger woman’s hand, templing it with her own, their ten fingers interlinking beneath the coolness of the sheets. “You loved him and yourself enough to let him go. That isn’t self-destruction, sweetheart, and never could be. You saved yourself. There are plenty of people in this world who wish they had an inch of your bravery to do the same.”
Someone in this very room even.
A pious would-be-sinner in Melissa's ex-husband's bed.
“But maybe I was wrong, Barb. Maybe it wouldn’t have cost me anything t'get married.”
“No,” Barbara says sharply, but then, feeling Melissa’s hand tense in her own, just as immediately softens, brushing her thumb along the sharp spines of the other woman's knuckles.
“No,” she repeats herself, with a renewed gentleness that almost overwhelms her, with all the collected tenderness in her bones. “You already knew that it would cost you everything.”
Melissa sits with this thought for a longer while still, perhaps arranging her counterargument into an fusillade of harsh words that Barbara probably even deserves at this point, but in the end, all that comes out is a low, defeated chuckle.
A squeeze of the hand.
“Jesus, if I only loved myself about half as much as you loved me,” she starts, but Barbara interrupts her again, keen to get the last word in, to have the golden opportunity to define the exact depths of her love.
“—then you’d be the most self-assured woman in the world,” she finishes softly, squeezing Melissa’s hand right back.
“Gagootz,” Melissa accuses her again with a fond sigh, and she shifts in the bed a little—and then a whole lot—until she’s leaning against Barbara’s shoulder, and all of her senses are filled with an excess of her: the slight dampness of her hair, the delicate swell of her strawberry shampoo, skin-touching-skin-touching-smooth-and-warm-skin.
“Forever and ever, amen,” Barbara murmurs, finally daring to press her cheek against the crown of Melissa’s dark head.
She asks for nothing more and daily gets by with so much less, so this is the closest thing to paradise if such a thing exists on this mortal earth.
In the permissive darkness, she breathes it all in.
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Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...
no worries at all, i've never been asked that actually! i really apologize for how long this took to answer because i was thinking so long and hard about characters in media that have touched my heart in different ways.
but in no particular order my top 10 favorite characters are
honda tohru
haruno sakura
narancia ghirga
rengoku kyojuro
bakugou katsuki
iwakura mitsumi
yamada asaemon tenza
nijimura okuyasu
furina
sokka
+ 2 bonuses for fun
the protagonist of fruits basket, my girl tohru. my fellow clumsy queen. if i were going to list down 4 characters i related to the most in animanga, tohru would be one of them. maybe it won't be too much of a surprise she's on this list because one of my highest ranking posts is literally a deep dive into tohru as a character. shameless self promo read here, but this would definitely explain all the reasons i love her so much. but the amount of love this character exudes despite all the painful things she's been through, how i relate to how she tries her hardest to present herself as bubbly to hide her loneliness from even herself, there's just so much i can't help but love about this character.
sakura is one of my girls from now until forever. she's the reason i love cherry blossoms so much. if i had to pick only one character from naruto to call my favorite, it would go to sakura hands down, no questions asked. i'm a first generation sakura fan (lmao is that a thing?) where i liked her from her very introduction to naruto. i loved her pink hair, her green eyes, how she carried herself and you will always see me in the trenches defending sakura as a character and what she supplied to the naruto series. maybe it's because i also related so much to sakura growing up and growing up with the character as well, so there's a lot for me to love here.
narancia is honestly one of the most beautiful characters in jojo for me and i'm not just talking about aesthetics. off rip he comes off as a dumb, violent gangster when in actuality, in spite of the more obvious aspects of his characters, there is a strange purity to narancia. in his loyalty, in his straightforwardness to even how his stand ability manifests as a toy army plane. the implications of the child soldier narancia very much became, his efficiency in being able to kill while very much so still being that kid whose biggest fear than anything was being alone. narancia truly believed he was going to die alone in that alley. his death in jojo is honestly still to this day, one of the hardest hitting. because it was so brutal and unexpected and in a lot of ways so unfair even if the rationality as to why he was targeted made sense (i've talked a number of times with my mom who has seen jojo about how all of the characters who die in pt 5 are core members of the 'heart' of the bucci gang, narancia ofc being one of them). in that moment, everyone cried for him whereas prior he was the one who cried on behalf of the party for the loss of abbacchio.
rengoku lwk just might be everyone's fav in demon slayer but i don't care, same here. his owlish design, his vibrant energy, the conviction to stay behind his principles and even die by said principles? i can't not admire the guy and how despite his short appearance in the story, you still feel the ripple effect of it throughout the story. sasori, maybe deidara had a point when he said true beauty is fleeting and an explosion.
katsuki honestly stole the whole show of bnha for me. hell i was out here enjoying him even when he was just an irredeemable bully because i could see early on the complexity of the character and was honestly curious to see where such a belligerent personality came from. how he's reflected on himself throughout the story, becomes better than the person he was the day before, all of that is really admirable to me. it's lwk honestly gets to a point where if katsuki isn't the focus of an arc or episode, i lose interest. show me the explosion boy please. i also feel like even with the great aspect of the character, there's a lot of disservice towards him regards to how the way his parents treat him is swept under the rug, the way they completely brush over the fact they muzzled and chained him on live television due to his refusal to accept an award and presented a strong student as mentally unstable to the masses (something that led to his very kidnapping, mind you). but my gripes with those things honestly make me love this guy even more than i already do.
mitsumi from skip & loafer is another relatable character for me. from the older trans woman figure in her life (one of my moms) to the clumsiness. like mitsumi, i too am always falling over and because of that i've gotten good at picking myself up. characters like mitsumi, you can't help wanting to follow the model of. i love her straightforwardness, her open-mindedness and appreciate how she views life and those around her. i can only hope to be more like her, among some other characters i love, in my daily life. i love how it doesn't really matter who someone is in relation to her or someone else she knows, she makes her own fair assessments of that person and judges based off her experiences with that person.
tenza is the best character in hell's paradise. argue with a wall i can't be argued against here. damn did we lose when his fine ass got axed early in the storyline. i deadass almost stopped reading hell's paradise after chapter 21 because i was that upset about his death. i'm a sucker for a character who dies saving the rest of the group, and the way he went out in a blaze of glory. already dying, already bleeding out but still deciding he'd spin his last few minutes of life buying time for his comrades. his final thoughts wondering what his life could have been like if he weren't dying in that moment. the students he could have had. the wife he could have had. the visceral reaction i had seeing his body get tossed over like he was nothing but garbage? still feel that. he's another example of a character who didn't have long to shine in the story in terms of number of appearances but the way you feel his presence in the story after his death? how it fuels shion and nurugai's quest for vengeance. how that vengeance almost very well destroyed one of them. how tenza in spirit gave nurugai the will to save shion's life. i really, really loved it. it was such a subversion of expectations seeing the pupil die rather than that master.
okuyasu is definitely my favorite character in diamond is unbreakable. he comes off as just comic relief, which to be fair, okuyasu is very funny. however comma, there's so much to depth to the character that you really appreciate as the story goes on. he's a follower by nature, you can see that from the very first episode you meet him where he follows his brother's orders. that once keicho died, he immediately found someone new to follow in josuke, our jojo for the part. but you see him slowly starting to take those steps towards becoming someone who doesn't just follow, but leads. someone capable of deciding for himself what he wants to do. especially after his brother dies and he becomes a caretaker for himself and his father. how he wants to put large windfalls of money into his savings. how he is able to work around his intellectual shortcomings with his strengths. okuyasu is dumb but he isn't an idiot. he is actually quite astute in a lot of ways one doesn't expect and that he doesn't give himself credit for. so all of this made his grand decision not to follow his brother into the afterlife so satisfying.
oh how i loved furina from day fucking 1. from the moment her design got leaked i knew where my primogems were going. when she entered the story officially? i was even more in love just due to how different she was as an archon. i could understand why she wasn't for everybody but she was everything for me and that's all that mattered. then we get the level 4 tragic backstory, her 500 year long opera where she alone is on the stage? it wasn't enough just to pull for furina, furina deserved everything my account had to offer. her story quest really made me want to shove paimon and the traveler into a blender but regardless, this character has my whole heart and i will eat up any content that pertains to her as i fucking should. she deserves my everything.
sokka. absolutely sokka. seeing sokka finally get his fucking flowers during the atla revival during 2020 brought so much joy to my soul. i've loved sokka since back when atla was still airing on tv. he has been my favorite and honestly i think some of my humor and sarcasm of today relates all the way back to the guy with boomerang. i got both of my moms into atla and it really made me happy to see the guy they initially saw as the dumb funny one in the group when they just glanced at the tv when i was watching it, is actually arguably the smartest on the team and a literal genius who grew into the man he wanted to become since episode 1. that he was actually the most logical member of the team and the most practical when it came to their long term goals. he was humbled and realized his misogyny was an incorrect way of thinking, he learned from his mistakes an even with his insecurities about where he stood on the team, he never let that get him down for long.
+ 2
ojamajo doremi is coming back, so i gotta mention my two of my fav girls from the series that i relate to the most. first up, harukaze doremi or i'm doing myself a disservice. doremi is a character that has a lot of shortcomings from her clumsiness to her . and i relate a lot to her because of that. whenever i learn something new, i'm never the best at it. especially handicrafts and seeing others around me being good at those things definitely sucked. so seeing a character like that was great for me at that age. but one thing that is just so great about this girl is, to quote caribou-kun on youtube (please watch his video essay on ojamajo doremi on youtube) "she is the greatest friend in the entire world". and i don't say that lightly, she's like the tohru honda of majou shoujo. she would literally take off her shirt and give it to someone to throw up in if they needed it. the way she can connect to people. how she supports them when they most need it even if she doesn't know what is the right thing to say or even if it is at the cost of her own feelings. when i say i want to be a good friend to someone, doremi is one of the faces i picture.
and finally, senoo aiko. she was my favorite favorite of the ojamajos growing up. initially because, well, she was the blue one and blue has been my favorite color since before i can honestly remember. because damn did certain parts of her character also really relate to me. divorced parents (although in my case, they got divorced when i was very young and have been that way since my earliest memories) and doing your best to handle that situation even if you want your parents to get back together. my parents never got back together like aiko's but honestly, she i was happy to see that old dream of mine be realized through her. she has had to be the prince for herself and others in her life for most of her life, and when you finally get to see the moment she can just be the princess is wonderful.
there are other characters i haven't mentioned due to the limitations of just 10 characters but these are some characters that immediately come to mind for some major favs.
#look she's answering#fruits basket#furuba#jjba#jojo's bizarre adventure#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#bnha#mha#skip & loafer#hell's paradise#jigokuraku#genshin impact#atla#ojamajo doremi#animanga thoughts
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For the meme, YGO 5 and 17, Mokuba 8 and 9. :D
AHH, I put this in a post instead of answering the ask at first... I think I may need coffee. Or I got caught up in something else in my head. Anyway.
Hey there. Thank you for the ask!
Yu-Gi-Oh!
5) …the scene from it that lives in my head rent free.
Seto’s vision/hallucination of his melting dragon consuming Mokuba and watching himself also rot as his younger self glares at him with hatred is such a haunting and powerful moment, and how it was built to and what it builds up to is haunting and powerful. It’s so vivid and emotional and of the mind and of the heart without words.
Also the Heart Puzzle stuff of which I am a sucker for, which people likely already know. Isolation, emotional detachment from reality, trying to heal the inner child, trying to connect with yourself, trying to pick up the pieces and find sympathy for yourself.
17) …the world-building aspect of the story I have the greatest admiration for.
The themes of abuse and tragedy feel organic and just like part of the characters. You see it reflected in their behaviors and attitudes. It’s not overtly discussed and it’s not used as cute bait or misery bait.
The story is also very… I want to say it can be brutally true to life in a way. Shit happens and there isn’t a good moral behind it. To be clear on this point, I think people are in the right to criticize parts of this as this is a narrative, but other parts… it’s just kind of… I’m not even sure how to put it or if what I’m typing makes any sense. But sometimes you need to see and understand that shared experience of shit happens and there isn’t a good moral behind it.
Mokuba Kaiba
8) …a headcanon I have about this character.
I suppose I’ve included Mokuba collecting original comic book art in a few fanfictions now. I also feel the idea of his biological parents is something Mokuba might approach like a scientist, in contrast to Seto who has pushed them out of his mind in canon likely as a form of denial/pain/grief. Mokuba wouldn’t mind looking up their history if the topic somehow came up to him. He was younger than Seto when their biological father died, and while very young children do also grieve, it’s not as much of a cognizant process for them but rather mainly behavioral it seems (I don’t meant to paint broadly though – it’s going to vary).
9) …which of their relationships I would have cultivated more if it were up to me (both romantic and platonic).
I saw your comment supporting Honda’s quiet concern and loyalty to Mokuba, so that perhaps has a few votes for it now. I feel like I’d be interested in also seeing Mokuba interact more with some of Kaiba’s employees, like Isono or the maid. I feel Mokuba being kind of hot and cold with the main cast in canon is rather rich characterization so I don’t want that changed, although watching him grow into those friendships in time might be nice. Whereas Seto seems exhausted by interacting with people in the standard way, Mokuba seems much more animated by it and thus I feel he will be more social than Seto.
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For the fandom asks!!
4, 14, 15, 19, 22 (for any character), 23, and 24 (again, any character!!
4. Is there a popular pairing you don't necessarily dislike but aren't too invested in?
Not really. I mean there's plenty of ships that I don't really supply any content for, including like I would say the big 3 but it's more because I don't really think of then often....I guess that's technically the exact definition...
14. Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind?
I mean, I think the majority of things I've made are pretty much all wish or Jou, so this is a bit harder to think of. I will say going by who I liked when I was younger, maybe Ryuzaki/shrimp? I have ideas I want to do with them, but when I was younger I don't think I would have ever thought about them?
15. Have you noticed your style change over time?
Yes! Absolutely. I mean it's still developing but I have at least seen an improvement!
The first is from like 2019? Maybe 2020? Then, like the most recent two and even from those I'm noticing a difference from that middle one until now. My style is still developing as I use references a lot, and I always feel like it keeps shifting depending on the reference I choose? I definitely feel like I've gotten more confident in my lineart and how I do that!
19. What's your favourite thing about [fandom] (the people in it, not the media you're all enjoying together)?
I love this fandom so much. I love that, for the most part, people are so kind and encouraging of each other (at least with the ones I've been interacting with)! We can all be a bit silly, but it's so much fun.
22. Give us a headcanon for [Shizuka]
I headcanon her as having diabetes. I saw someone post one time that whole thing about Jou asking Yugi if he needed insulin. When someone is shaky, like insulin wouldn't be great because when you're shaky, it's usually due to low blood sugar, and insulin would lower it further. Anyway in the post it was talking about how Jou seemed to have an understanding of it but was a bit off and what if it's because Shizuka had it and he had some understanding of it when he was younger. Anyway, I kind of latched onto that idea, especially with her having health conditions that we don't really get to learn about.
23. Has your favourite character/ship changed over time?
Answered here!
24. What's your favourite thing about [Honda]?
His loyalty and love for others. Boy is for real a ride or die for the ones he loves and cares about. He would go to the ends of the Earth for Jou. And he was so concerned (or jealous) about Jou's new friendship. I also love how he tried so hard to come off as this stoic cool guy, but he is a big, loveable goofball who is into romance. Absolutely adore him!
#thanks for asking!#ask meme#sorry it took a minute!#also look at me not choosing Jou for the choose a charcter!#as I choose others that I then connect to him#its fine
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I mean was luca telling the truth that he used the race kinda of a test or is he just trying to defend Honda and to show loyalty
in this sport? A little of everything he is savkng his own face and a little for Honda, but they also already said and Mir also confirmed it that what the ner part they want will come i think in Portiamo or the race that follows
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I know Tristan (Honda) is more a background character and even remembering how he was introduced to become one of Yugi's friend because "A friend of a Friend (Joey/Jonouchi) becomes my friend" You have Tristan entrusting Yugi with a message/love letter to send to Miho. In the end it looks like he still became friends with Yugi after the teacher exposed the love puzzle to the whole class.
He might not know much about dueling or even get involved with playing the card game that later both Yugi and Joey mostly play but that is some loyalty as it didn't stop him from sticking by them.
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Feminine Archetypes In Fruits Basket;
Honda Tohru - The Maiden;
Maidens are tend to be innocent, they give that ‘take care of me’ vibe. They are innocent and creative, sometimes naive and positive. They tend to be a little more sensitive. They have that youtfull energy, and childish curiosity. Maidens are also explore their sexuality very slowly. And their weakness is sometimes they can lack commitment, direction or they can be codependent.
I think all those traits fits really well to Tohru. Since she is very sweet, ‘take care of me’ type of character and positive and naive too. She also tend to be very codependent.
Sohma Akito - The Queen;
Just like any typical queen, Akito has that royalty energy. She is natural noble, elegant, she has confidence and natural leader, she has manners. Queens’s weakness are that they tend to struggle when they dont have partner. They are also very loyal and expect loyalty from them to the point they justify their partner’s toxic behavours. I know pre-redemption Akito is toxic but this is what actual Akito would be, if she actually had life and she deserves very good, loyal guy. Also, queens tend to easiely erase their female friends which is one of the biggest flaws they have.
Sohma Kagura - The Maiden;
Just like Tohru, Kagura also tend to be very naive, she has very youthfull energy. She is also very childish.
Uotani Arisa - The Huntress;
Huntress are adventreous type, they are passionate and competitive, though they sometimes might emotionally dumb. All those traits fits well to Arisa.
Hanajima Saki - The Mystic;
Mystics are asocial, they live in their small world, and they are fine with that. They have very cozy, comfortable energy. Which also fits very well to Hanajima.
Sohma Kisa - The Maiden;
Kisa is definitely ‘take care of me’ type of character, she is also very sweet, naive and innocent.
Sohma Rin - The Huntress;
Huntress are more adventerous type, they desire freedom and one of the biggest of flaw of them that they sometimes might be emotionally distant. Riin always give me that ‘adventreous’ type of energy.
Kuragi Machi - The Sage;
This one was hard for me to find out but i think sage fits better for Machi since she is succesfull woman and tend to act with her logic. At least, it fits better compared to other types.
Extras;
Tohru’s mother is huntress. Sohma Kana is maiden. Shiraki Mayu is huntress. Sohma ren is very ‘toxic’ lover type. Minagawa Motoko might be maiden. Toudou Kimi might be lover type. I dont remember others. Mother type character doesnt fit to any characters. I write the type what those girls fit the most, they all great though, they all are different which is what makes it fun to analyze.
+ This is made for fun, inspired by this video, yeah.
#Fruits Basket#honda tohru#sohma akito#sohma kagura#uotani arisa#hanajima saki#sohma kisa#sohma rin#kuragi machi#honda kyoko#sohma kana#shiraki mayu#sohma ren#minagawa motoko#toudou kimi#female characters#feminine archetypes#furuba analysis
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I was tagged by @m34gs in this post HERE! Thanks for the tag, friend! Took me a moment to figure out how to do this. Anyways, I'm done, so let's talk about this!
Anime with a Favourite Opening/Ending Song:
While this was a touch choice, and almost went to Attack on Titan, I picked Jujutsu Kaisen because it's one of the rare anime when I love all the openings. If I had to pick a favourite opening it's a tie between VIVID VICE and Specialz.
Anime you recommend others watch:
Without a shadow of a doubt I recommend Anohana to everyone. It's a coming of age story centred around a difficult topic, yet there are light moments. However, it's an anime that always makes me cry, so be prepared to not just watch a coming of age story but also an emotional character dive.
Anime that shares a genre with the centre anime:
It would have been easy to pick another adventure/fantasy/sci-fi anime and call it a day, but I think I did well picking Sabikui Bisco. The anime is set in a post apocalyptic wasteland. There is awe and wonder outside of the city but also danger. Government cannot be trusted and medicine/scientific advancement is a key element to the story, which are all elements that FMA has.
Anime that shares Eng. VA with touching square:
Laura Bailey who voices Lust in FMA also voices Tohru Honda in Fruits Basket! Actually, Fruits Basket and FMA have many English VA overlaps, but Laura is the one I first thought of!
Favourite Anime of All Time:
Fullmetal Alchemist is my favourite manga of all time, so I had to go with the 2009 remake. While the 2003 anime still holds a nostalgic place in my heart, nothing compares to the manga's story to me.
From the plot, pacing, character arcs and design, and art direction I truly believe Fullmetal Alchemist is a near perfectly written and produced series from Hiromu Arakawa.
Anime that shares Japanese VA with touching square:
Paku Romi who voices Edward Elric in the Japanese version of FMA also voices Hitsugaya Toshiro in Bleach.
Shares a Similar MC Energy with centre square:
The obvious comparison is Senku and Edward are both genius scientists who did the impossible (Senku with his counting and Edward with human transmutation), however there are other traits the two share. Both have a bit of a mischievous side and both can be singularly focused on their scientific goals. Finally, both are hopeful in the face of peril and use their wits and scientific knowledge to win in the end.
Also, as an extra fun fact the English VA for Senku is Aaron Dismuke who voiced Alfonse Elric in the original 2003 FMA anime.
An Anime you read/have the manga of:
I've been reading My Hero Academia (or BNHA) for years. While I don't own it, I read it on the Shonen Jump app. It's a series I'm also enjoying the anime adaptation.
A series with your favourite ship/ship dynamic:
Soukoku (or Dazai/Chuuya from Bungou Stray Dogs) is both my favourite ship in the series and also my favourite ship dynamic.
My favourite part about Soukoku as a ship is the underlying loyalty and trust the two have in one another. Despite everything: their personality clash, their first meeting, Dazai betraying the Port Mafia, they still care for one another. In their own weird ways, yes, but care none the less. How else can the series explain the convoluted schemes in both Dead Apple and in Season 5? That's some "we're two halves of the same whole" level of trust there. They're not even being subtle.
I tag: @a-little-harmed-shinra, @someobscurereference, @shreedle, and @memoryoflife.
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Muses
CC:
Geto Suguru: Depressed, Cult, and Pre Toji
I have a preference for PTSD/Depressed Suguru. He's more of a stickler, struggling with his own demons while being functional in the JJK world. This version of Suguru is least likely to enter a romantic relationship and is extremely selective. Platonic relationships are preferred. Poor depressed Suguru craves connection but has trouble accepting any form of it. Expect him making art or spending time in nature to cope.
Charismatic Cult Leader Suguru is my second favorite. I do tons of research on psychology and would have plenty of fun using him. He is clearly racist against non sorceress, charismatic, selfish, controlling, domineering and helpful depending on his goals. Do you wants your crumbs of attention to feel like heaven? This is your guy. Cult Suguru is the most likely to put himself in a romantic situation for his own personal gain. He is the most extraverted version of himself.
Pre Toji Is a well mannered Suguru who prioritizes helping others. He plays by the rules and shares his opinion when he feels appropriate. He's a good boy and a happy boy. He deeply cares about culture and loves to read. Romantic relationships will have to be built from the ground up. Be prepared for observant nature. He's also terrible at basketball, he just doesn't know it yet.
Gojo Satoru:
More often then not my version is off bothering someone or making a joke. The more serious versions of Gojo will appear when discussed outside the rp or when appropriate. Gojo is arrogant, intelligent, powerful, and goofy.
Shoko Ieiri:
Shoko doesn't fight much in the series. She is JJK's designated healer as she is the only one who can expertly heal others with her reverse cursed technique. She is a heavy drinker and relapsed into being a heavy smoker as of recent. Despite cheating on her exam to become a doctor, she has vast knowledge on how the body is affected by the Jujutsu World.
Loid Forger:
Loid Forger, code name twilight, is a spy undercover as a family man. His goal in life is to provide a safer world/country for future generations. He's diligent, talented in hand-to-hand combat and firearms, charming, analytical, focused and a master of disguise. My version of Loid suffers from generalized anxiety that manifests through overplanning.
Tanjiro Kamado
I chose to rp him because he is the most emotionally healthy character i have seen in anime. He is incredibly empathetic, well mannered, good natured, and understanding. Tanjiro also displays loyalty, courage, and diligence. This best boy needs a trophy. His most notable traits is his sense of smell.
OC's: Each deserve their own post. If there isn't a link, I am working on them.
Maya Honda, here is the link
(Source: )
--More to come--
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I was tagged by the lovely @saint--claire for this! (❁´◡`❁)
3 Ships
I have so many ships that I can mention, so I'll just do one each for three arbitrary categories.
1) Ship I'm reading: IceMav from the Top Gun movies. I mentioned this before, but I needed both movies to fall in love with this pairing so hard. Like if I watched the movies individually I would be interested but not this much - but throw in the fact that they canonically have 30+ years of history and TGM made it very clear that their bond has gotten even stronger over the years *chef's kiss*. Rivals to wingmen! Ice as Mav's guardian angel! Mav was the only one Ice trusted to teach the kids so they could all come back home alive! Mav pounding his wings onto Ice's coffin!!! The angst from Ice's canonical death adds a sort of realistic bittersweetness that makes the ship somehow more appealing to me. But also, because real life is depressing enough as it is, I'm happily rolling in OG!TG wingmen era fics and found family MavDad/IcePops and Dagger kids AUs forever.
2) Ship I've written: Halfdain from Genshin Impact. I like a lot of Genshin characters and relationships (both romantic and familial), but Halfdain was the one that broke my two-year pandemic lockdown writer's block. Halfdan literally appears onscreen for like three minutes, but his loyalty to Dainsleif! He followed Dainsleif's final command for 500 years! He remembered and recognized Dain even when his memories should have completely eroded away! He believed in Dain so much. And Dain! How he recognized Halfdan even in his shadowy husk state! The way his eyes flickered and he smiled the gentlest smile for Halfdan! The hand clasp in the flashback, and the Black Serpent salute! Halfdan's fate is also what inspired me so much - I was so distraught at the fact that Halfdan dies and they couldn't be together despite everything they've been through, I broke my own writer's block to fix things. Tragic endings what? I WILL FIX THEM WITH FIC. This is probably the rarest pairing I ship (<50 works on AO3), but I love them so much.
3) Free choice: 00Q from the Daniel Craig James Bond films. So, I've kind of stopped writing for them. However, I see a pattern with my current ships and like.. I haven't actually watched No Time To Die, but I know what happens to Bond. And going by my track record, I'll either write my own fix-it fic or I'll look for all the fix-it fics. And that's why I still haven't watched NTTD: 1) i'm not quite ready for things to end, and 2) I don't want to risk switching hyperfixations, so I'm procrastinating on it. But 00Q will always have a special place in my heart, both for how long I was actively in the fandom for, and for how much I grew as a writer writing for them.
First Ship
I'm probably aging myself right here, but considering the timing of when I got into fandom it's either Yuki Sohma/Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket or KakaIru from Naruto.
Last movie
Enola Holmes 2. I enjoyed it!
Last song
Hoyoverse just dropped The Stellar Moments Vol 3 album and I've been listening to it while writing this. My favourites are Chapter of a New Era (Yunjin's theme), Storm Chaser (Heizou's theme), Evening Luxury (Diluc and Fischl's outfit teaser) and Surasthana Fantasia (Nahida's theme).
Currently reading
Uhhhh.. I have far too many fic tabs opened, but two IceMav fics that I'm actively following are As Lions by @qin-ling (Time travel fic! The angst of Mav's now unreturnable original timeline and his Ice's death, but also hope in the form of getting to save Goose and befriending '86 Ice again!) and ICE - In Case of Emergencies by @derpinathebrave (post-breakup IceMav where Ice gets called as Mav's emergency contact after an accident. The title is already excellent but also the writing is impeccable).
Also I have a ton of Sandman fics opened before my brain took a sharp dive into TG fandom, so here's a fic I was halfway through: We have all the time in the world (a great exploration of Dreamling throughout their once-a-century-meet ups, where Dream is slightly more in-tuned to his feelings for Hob).
Currently watching
I just finished watching Season 3 of Mob Psycho 100. I (surprisingly) did not cry at the ending but the moment 99 (the season 1 OP) played in the final episode? Oo, good chills, it was so excellently done.
Currently consuming
All the Chinese New Year snacks. Actually, I can't eat most snacks yet because we're saving them for 初一 . But you know what you can't save for too long? Mandarin oranges. So many mandarin oranges. This is the best season for mandarin orange lovers :D
Currently craving
Milk tea (not boba. Just tea and milk variants, no tapioca pearls or other toppings).
Tagging @qserasera, @no-gorms, @solowinged, @kamicom (welcome back!), but only if you feel up to it. And if anyone else would like to pick this up, please feel free!
#saint--claire#replies#*#thank you for tagging me! this was fun to go through#I untagged the two IceMav authors whose fics I mentioned#because this post is mostly me rambling about stuff and i don't want to clutter up their notifications#but if you all like TG or IceMav you should follow them here on tumblr!#(and if they happen to see this post and these messy tags and feel up to answering these qs i would love to read the replies)#and also if you like TG and Hangster in particular then you should follow saint--claire! and read their fics!#looking back at my responses here - yeah i'm all over the place with my fandoms lol#what i read versus what i write are completely different lists
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