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caliwashere · 2 years

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TGKDN Ch 20.5-22 Thoughts & Spoilers

I didn’t want to spam post so I’m going to shorten these 3 chapters (20.5 is literally almost the same length as a regular chapter sooo)

context: TGKDN is a jjkxoc (additional add-ons: dad!gojoxoc, yutaxoc, megumixoc) fic called Tsuki Ga Kirei Desu Ne. It’s linked in my bio in case anyone wants to read it. I don’t own TGKDN or take credit for the story/OCs! I’m just a fan!

spoilers below ⬇️

- these three chapters are the reason why i support the TGKDN rewrite so much

- Imma be organized for once and split them into chapters cuz there’s so much to uncover for each of the three chapters (all the ppl who have been following since my old acc gasping cuz Cali’s gonna be organized for once lmaooo) anyways.....

Chapter 20.5

- HIYORI POV LETS GOOO

-why is it that Hiyori POVs are the rarest when she’s literally the main character of this story ????

- the jars symbolism was just *chef’s kiss*

- honestly highlights one of the main differences between old TGKDN and rewrite TGKDN cuz there’s more in-depth talk about Hiyori’s struggles now to better paint that image of how she’s perfect at the surface

-p sure this is the gojo and hiyori parallel cuz they’re both strong and “perfect” in almost every way but they’re actually not

- whole chapter made me tear up a lil ngl like it hit where it hurt cuz it was relatable like the struggle of being responsible and doing what u believe is ur duty (my tsukuyo hiyori analysis rlly on point thooo wooooooo)

-author frames a lot of stuff in a pretty tasteful manner like the darker/heavier chapters involving mental struggle (i.e Jars + Under the Surface chapters) which honestly props to her cuz i could never

- the only problem is that she does it too well and it rlly hits (my eyes be swollen too much cuz of this story) where it hurts every time

-yuta coming in to help my our precious bean (im writing a hiyorixreader fic for my own satisfaction afanfiosa) just at the right moment

-when he ate the salad aodinasioda she was so surprised

- i had to google wtf a mousse cake was cuz im uncultured lol

- him opening the jar without saying anything and having no clue how his literal presence just makes her feel better

- she literally says he’s amazing which mirrors what he said about her in one of the earlier chapters (i forgot which one ooops) DONT THINK I DIDNT CATCH THAT AUTHOR

-mans out here thinking its one-sided but she’s just as down bad as he is

-they’re so cute together

-bouta get cavities from how sweet they are

-they need to hurry up and date already aifnasifnsaionas

- feeling extra single after reading that chapter

- my heart feels full

Chapter 21

- PROTECTIVE BESTIE MAKI WOOOOOOOOOO

- love Maki and her POVS

- her and hiyori are literally best friend goals like i want that (if my irls see this ahahah no u didnt)

- the flower shop moment even the flower shop lady can tell yuta’s down bad lmaooo

- HE GETS HER ONE OF HER FAVORTE FLOWERS EVERY SINGLE DAY CUZ WHEN HE FIRST GOT HER A FLOWER IT WAS JUST ONE AFOIASFNIASFA THATS SO CUTE

- kazuha. back. off.

- let her draw in her sketchbook that best aunt Shoko got her

- at least he’s dead 😌 better not come between by precious TsukuOkko

- wait Yuri would be such a good ship name for YutaxHiyori thooo and it means lily too

- my unwarranted kazuha hate cuz he’s literally the reason she got stabbed cuz she remembered his words from a flashback when she was about the absolutely destroy that crazy cult guy

- even Rika finds him creepy and she’s literally a yandere cursed spirit

- hiyori not believing in soulmates when she’s literally blessed by a GOD and exorcises curses for a living is hilarious. GIRL U LITERALLY HAVE A TALKING FOX WDYM U THINK THE RED STRING OF FATE AND SOULMATES ARE UNREALISTIC

- i wonder how this will work out since yuta obviously thinks they’re soulmates or smthin

- ok tsuki is still mega sus but im starting to wonder if her disappearances for long periods of time in the story are just hiyori getting her to investigate stuff

- that would make sense but tsuki is still mega sus

- also still waiting to find out why hiyori paid mei mei 15 MILLION yen like what’s that about???

- ik gojo in the actual manga/anime pays mei mei 10 million at one point to help him with something so maybe it’s another parallel but i don’t think so at the same time

- what’s hiyori planning?? like why tell mei mei of all ppl to do it and not someone like nanami or something??

- moving on, what did Tsuki mean by “nothing on Hokkaido”?

- maybe the mei mei thing + whatever is going on in Hokkaido is connected??

- we know hiyori is from hokkaido since that was where gojo found her soooo i feel like maybe she’s doing some investigation on what happened to her sister?

-back when her profile was up (pre-rewrite) it said that her main cause of stress was her missing sister so ig it makes sense

-im interested on how this subplot goes cuz even in the regular jjk anime/manga there’s a lot up with hokkaido like it just happened to be left out of Kenjaku’s culling games too

- i keep forgetting hiyori is rlly intuitive like ms. ma’am figured out something was up and got the investigation done

- ok ok so yall know how tsuki says “if this gets out, you know what they’ll try to do since they’ve been trying to make you a more official part of the family for years now” after hiyori finds out that yuta is related to gojo?

- i think it’s implying a forced marriage cuz we know that even tho hiyori is ADOPTED she’s still gojo’s heir AND we know that there’s a lot of attention and stuff placed on blood relations for the three big clans (like zenin, kamo, and gojo) cuz they’re old-fashioned like that (p sure there’s probably old-fashioned ppl in the gojo clan but not as bad as zenin and kamo cuz gojo satoru is the head of the clan)

- if yuta and hiyori were to get married then she would be marrying someone of technical gojo blood cuz yuta is related to gojo thru a common ancestor even tho its distant WHICH would probably strengthen her claim as the next head of the gojo clan after satoru since that would make her an actual part of the gojo clan

- that’s definitely gonna be brought up again i can feel it in my bones

- i think this is where u can see that hiyori, even tho she cares about doing what is most beneficial for the world and stuff along with how she mentioned she was down for an arranged marriage (not to yuta but in general) if that was most beneficiary, cares more about her loved ones cuz she’s not willing to subject yuta to an arranged marriage at all

- so ig i was wrong before and she places her loved ones and their happiness first over the world basically (aot eren yeager flashbacks oop)

-hiyori valuing yuta and rika’s relationship speaks volumes about her character because even tho yea it was probably superficial and like one of those kindergarten playground marriages type beat...it was still love

- this is one of the reasons why i like hiyori’s character so much cuz never once does she even attempt to stand between rika and yuta’s relationship even tho she obviously has feelings for yuta

- she knows how important rika is to yuta and vice versa so she’s willing to give up and leave her feelings for yuta unrecipocated if that’s what makes both of them happy

- like this along with 20.5 emphasize how hiyori truly sees rika as a FRIEND even tho rika’s a murderous cursed spirit

- maki is headstrong and obviously cares alot about hiyori so im glad that maki was the one who gave yuta the push he needed

Chapter 22

- rika is so adorable going for the hello kitty plush aghhh

- it’s nice that yuta went to tell rika first that he liked hiyori and even went thru the whole process of apologizing and stuff

- it emphasizes how yuta does love rika but he’s moving on now which most yutaxreader and yutaxoc writers don’t do like they undermine rika and yuta’s relationship in favor of the yutaxoc or yutaxreader relationship

- the author of tgkdn never once does this and emphasizes how yuta, even tho hes in love with hiyori, did love rika and still does and she’ll always have a place in his heart no matter what

- its made clear that rika will always be his childhood love and he will always love her but he also loves hiyori and he’s moving on from his past which is probably one of my favorite aspects about this book

- yuta doesn’t suddenly stop loving rika or decide he’s not gonna love her anymore. he still loves rika and he always will but he loves hiyori too and sure that love is probably greater than his love for rika cuz when ur younger u exaggerate a lot but rika will always remain as a part of his past/heart and that’s what matters

- he chooses hiyori but its made clear that he will always care and love rika

- props to the author for doing that cuz that takes a lot of courage especially when ur own OC is involved (ik hiyori isn’t a self-insert oc but it still requires a lot of courage to pull something like this) to deal with a situation like this

- back to hiyori, she never oversteps the boundary between her and yuta. she’s made it clear that she won’t pursue her feelings for yuta out of the respect she has for yuta, rika, and their relationships

- that’s what makes her so likeable as an oc cuz she never does something extremely stupid that can hurt other ppl just cuz she’s in love

- her relationship with rika is one of my favorites cuz hiyori doesnt see rika as a cursed spirit but as who rika is as a person even tho hiyori has NEVER met human rika

- yuta finding out that hiyori has been visiting rika’s grave broke my heart cuz that’s probably the moment he realized just how much of a kind soul hiyori is to go above and beyond for other people

- like the moment he made the connection between the hello kitty stuffed animal and the hello kitty bracelet rika had was just perfect

- the flashbacks of what maki told him combined with him talking to rika is just a work of art in my opinion

- i think this was probably one of the main points of yuta moving on and getting the closure he needs now all that’s left is rika to be freed then he finally has the closure he needs

- her waiting out in the cold for him was so wholesome

- when hiyori wrapped the scarf around yuta my heartttt ahhhh

- red scarves are the epitome of romance (look at eren and mikasa)

- him helping her with her coat while she takes his scarf off without either of them saying anything like its the most natural thing in the world 😌

- making sure he gets his favorite food in the bento cuz she knows he’s probably gonna be hungry

- him eating the sour plum thing for her and her moving the bento so his favorite food is in front of him is just so mfing cute

- maki and the others thinking hiyori is crazy for specifically requesting cabbage salad in her dinner even tho hiyori doesnt even like cabbage salad

- she doesnt even like cabbage salad and yet she asks for it just cuz she knows yuta likes it (the amount of serotonin i get from these two is just ✨)

Summary

- i think that hiyori and yuta are both stuck in the past to varying degrees

- it’s p obvious especially from “It May Be the Last” and “Under the Surface” that

- the difference between yuta and hiyori is that they handle what happened to them in different ways like yuta ended up isolating himself and becoming depressed while hiyori continues on with her life and tries to do better

- she strives to do better, to get stronger, so it won’t happen again and bottles up her emotions so they dont get in the way of that while yuta doesn’t bottle his emotions up

- its obvious that she’s improving and doing it less thanks to yuta, maki, and the others as seen mainly in “Rika’s Love” and “Jars”

- i hope they can learn from each other and move on from their traumatic pasts together

- they both have a lot to unpack until they’re finally free of the past but they’re helping each other with it even if they themselves don’t know it

- the fact that they’re both unintentionally/unknowingly helping each other thru tough times and dealing with their pasts is what makes their relationship so likeable

- ik i talk about liking hiyori a lot and that’s just because she’s a likeable OC. she’s not the type that needs saving from anyone and she’s independent

-she’s strong and knows she is

- i just like strong female characters

- she’s not dumb like a lot of other OCs/reader-inserts (i get that having a dumb oc/reader-insert is supposed to make them relatable but it just gets rlly annoying sometimes cuz it’s just one bad decision after another)

- it’s not like she’s perfect either tho

- it’s shown that she still has moments where she fails (and boy does she fail like she literally almost died cuz of it) and she’s flawed but her flaws enhance her character rather than make her hateable.

- another big reason is that hiyori is nice and basically a ray of sunshine unlike most OCs/reader-inserts who act cool/cold (tsunderes and kuuderes).

- she doesn’t try to act cold towards other ppl or try to push them away like what most OCs/reader-inserts do either

- she’s not toxic

- there’s no her trying to deny her feelings for yuta or anything.

- she just accepts it.

- she doesn’t cry in front of everyone but she DOES cry in front of those closes to her. she has breakdowns and she cries which makes her human.

- sorry now im just going on a tangent but yea i rlly like hiyori’s character and props to the author for doing out-of-the-box wild stuff

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anarmorofwords · 3 years

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Okay so what if Joshwood actually gets together because at that picnic they’re talking about their exes

Ari/Kamala has Anna, who was toxic and outed her to at least one person

Eugenia has Augustus, who cheated on her more than once and ruined her reputation

Both of their break-ups are fairly recent, so neither one is quite ready to date yet, and then somehow as they’re talking one of them ends up almost crying. The other one comforts her and they end up kissing and maybe they are ready to date again

They take things slow and don’t even let their friends know exactly what’s going on with them, but then Augustus, being the asshole we know he is, somehow finds out and outs them both

Then there’s a lot of angst with the Bridgestocks finding out about Kamala, and of course some hurt/comfort

This is a very underdeveloped headcannon but here you go anyway, feel free to add to it or just ignore this in your inbox

cw for forced outing and homophobia

athsysywb Rowyn I regret ever questioning that moment of surprising bliss when you didn't offer us angst :')

Okay so this kinda gives me certain book vibes but I don't wanna spoil it, so let's ignore that

Anyway. Eugenia isn't even mad. She's numb, hollow, it's happening again, they're staring, they're whispering, and she feels like she's drowning. Sophie physically keeps Gideon from murdering Augustus. Thomas is brought home by TMT, with bloodied knuckles, his expression furious - it softens when he sees her. She wants to shut herself in her room and forget it all, but she can't, she needs to stay strong for Kamala. She sends Thomas to get her.

Kamala is distraught. One moment she's the happiest shes been in ages, and the next her life is falling apart. She can't tell if she's more furious or hurt when the man who called himself her father looks at her like that, locks her in her room and goes to arrange for someone to take her to the Citadel. She tried so much to earn their love. To make them proud. Her mother won't even look at her. She breaks down crying. She curses herself for wishing for too much, for the greedy desire to want more than she is allowed to have. She could have gritted her teeth, could have found a nice boy that wouldn't hate her, spend her days playing with a child she would give all the love in the world to. Why did she ever believe she could ask for more? She should start packing. But what does one even take with them to become an Iron Sister? She supposes it doesn't matter.

There's a knock on her window.

Alastair almost has to pick her up from the floor, but next thing she knows, they're climbing down the building, and she remembers Anna suddenly and stifles a histerical laugh. They come across Thomas in the street, and he promises to take her to safety. She isn't sure she trusts him, but Alastair does, and they sneak her to the Lightwoods' house.

And then she's in Genie's arms again and maybe, just maybe, the world can yet become bearable.

I'm drawing a blank on what comes next

Would they arrange for them to leave for the countryside permanently? Would they have to abandon their lives? Maybe they would just wait for the storm to pass and risk re-entering the social life, meanwhile Lightwoods and Herondales somehow make Bridgestock reconsider his decision?

Of course we could go for pure angst and have Kamala ACTUALLY become an Iron Sister as a punishment, but my girl's been through enough, leave her be

To add a brighter touch, Kit and Tom would spend days developing the nasties possible inventions to make Augustus's life miserable (unknowingly to anyone, because they're all things that can just happen. except they start to happen to him notoriously, ooops )

#rowyn ask #mutuals!#suffering bc its Rowyn's specialty #the last hours #tlh #shadowhunters #kamala joshi #eugenia lightwood #kamala x eugenia #cw forced outing #tw homophobia #cw homophobia

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god-of-dust · 3 years

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@richardcampbellganseytheiiird asked about the wip tag game:

I NEED to know what PRIDEMOTHEFPHUCKER is because that title has me gagging on laughter. xD

just so you know, i opened the document and the first line is “LOSE URSELF TO DENS”, all caps included.

the story is a modern AU describing zuko’s first pride and him meeting the gaang there; i had no actual plot in mind yet, apart from zukaang happening in the future.

an unedited excerpt, featuring starry-eyed zuko, mai being mai and also being queer for ty lee, aromantic katara and shameless jet bashing:

So this is what a pride parade really looks like.

Zuko was used to seeing them through videos and pictures, more often than not followed by horrible, demeaning comments about how degenerate and filthy those people where, and he privately had to admit that a lot of people were wearing revealing and flashy clothes (if they could even be called clothes, Zuko's seen people more covered at the beach).

What he's seeing now is a lot like those pictures, but also so much more. More people, for one, but also more color, more variety, more music, more balloons, more glitter—oh, the glitter—, more life.

Rainbows were everywhere, on every flag and article of clothing and smiling cheek; they hurt Zuko's eyes... and his chest, too. A healing kind of hurt, like the sting from disinfectant, but without the sterile smell.

He can imagine what his father—Ozai, he corrects—would say about his being here. Probably nothing at all, in fact. Ozai doesn't waste words when it comes to show his displeasure, and Zuko has the scar to prove it.

Nevertheless, not even Ozai's looming judgment is able to ruin this.

“Your eyes are falling out,” Mai says from his side. Like him, she usually steers clear of crowds, but this time she was the one who convinced him to come. Well, it was more the combination of Ty Lee's influence on her and her knowledge of Zuko's weaknesses; the relevant part, though, is that now all three of them are here, admiring their surroundings, and smiling with uncharacteristic (except for Ty Lee, of course) openness.

“It's... a lot,” he admits, “but not bad.” I'm glad to be here.

That's when Ty Lee takes their hands and pulls them both into the heart of the crowd, yelling over the music, “Don't think I'll let you two stay in the sidelines all day! Come on!”

Everybody's moving, a pulsing wave of shaking hips and restless legs. He tries to blend in and follow the upbeat rhythm, swaying from side to side, stiff as a wooden plank; and yet, his ability to care about his lack of dance skills has taken a vacation. He feels his smile getting broader, ridiculously so. For the first time in ages, Zuko's surrounded by strangers and it isn't suffocating. He's a nobody here, a black speck in the middle of an ocean of others who somehow, someway are his kin; it's the day where the underdogs run the place, and he lets himself take in that power, that link, that humanity, to save it in a quiet corner of his memories. He'll probably need it in the future.

A body bumps into him, hard. Zuko turns in that direction, instinctively rooting himself in the best defensive stance the cramped space allows.

It seems that while Ozai can't rain on this parade, there's definitely someone else who can, and he's staring at Zuko with the usual air of superiority, head tilted as if in challenge.

How could Zuko have ever found that smirk charming, he doesn't know. What he does know is that expression on the face of the not-so-charming douchebag in front of him, and it means that he's trying to stir shit; from the murderous intent he can feel radiating from someplace on his left, Mai knows too.

“What a pleasant surprise to see you here,” Zuko's ex from hell says.

“Pleasant surprise, indeed,” Mai scoffs. She's murderous, Zuko can tell, and as much as it's comforting to know that she's got his back, he also has to put a stop to this before she decides to act.

Trust him to have never learned his diplomacy 101. “Jet, what are you doing here?” Great, Zuko, that's the right question to ask a queer person. Congratulations.

��Out and proud, remember? In fact, what are you doing here? Didn't expect you'd ever find the guts to be out so publicly,” Jet taunts, “What will your daddy think, I wonder?”

“That's none of your business.” It's easier to feign calmness when he's not forced to hear Jet's irritating tone and scornful words.

Jet lifts his chin towards Mai, whose hands are twitching. “Ah, but I see you brought your favourite beard. Still trying to cover your closeted ass?”

Diplomacy be damned, Zuko's tempted to just let Mai do her thing—the one with sharp blades and a not-so-polite amount of surgical enthusiasm. Why should Zuko bother preserving this asshole's physical integrity? It's not like he deserves it.

Whispers come from behind Zuko, and he remembers that he's not playing saviour out of the goodness of his heart; they're in public, people are all around them in a newly-formed circle, keeping their distance and watching with varying degrees of interest. Their conversation hasn't escalated enough to be worrisome, but Jet isn't famous for his self-restraint... and neither is Zuko, for that matter.

He's also remembering that he's not quite that comfortable with crowds.

As he opens his mouth to retort, someone steps in and places their body between them, their back to Zuko, effectively cutting him—and Jet—off. Their t-shirt marks them as security, and air almost freezes as they speak.

“I saw your friends and I knew you'd be somewhere close, stirring trouble. You never disappoint, don't you, Jet?” the girl says, with a cold, acrid venom in her tone that's nothing short of a work of art.

For a second, Jet's face makes a complicated thing; Zuko has no time to wonder about it, as it morphs lightning-quick into an arrogant upturn of lips.

“Katara! Since when are cishets allowed to play security?”

She tenses, then relaxes again. “I'm not having this conversation. Your gatekeeping shit's gotten old years ago.”

The scene unfolds in front of Zuko, and he really should take advantage of the crowd to make a swift exit. It's clear the two have history, and it's not his business anyway. He darts a glance to Mai. She ignores him, glaring daggers into Jet instead.

“Yeah, because you know I'm right and you don't belong here. You act like the troubled martyr as if you're not waving your little flag and claiming non-existing problems to feel special. Do chick-flicks oppress you, princess? Boo-hoo,” Jet mocks, wiping away imaginary tears with his knuckles.

Definitely not my business, Zuko's mind provides.

“Are you unable to talk with people without being an utter piece of trash?”

Nevermind. Now it is.

Mai's stepped forward to stand close to the security girl, chin high and back straight, elegant and dangerous as a poisonous flower; her enemy's enemies are her friends, after all, and Jet let his mouth run a little too much for her taste. In fact, she's been wanting to draw Jet's blood—in a not so figurative way—for a while now. The douchebag is offering her vengeance on a silver platter and her behaviour screams that she's going to take it.

Zuko doesn't want her to. He wants to leave. There's too much for him to lose here, badly stitched wounds ready to be exploited, new ugly memories ready to unearth the old ones from their shallow graves, emotions that he's not sure he's ever managed to hold secure.

But he loves Mai. She's started this and he'll back her up if needs arises.

Please, let this be quick and painless.

Then Jet looks at Mai and laughs, a revolting sound, and Zuko's fist is two seconds away from being snugly encased into the fucker's fucking face.

my notes say that katara is the one that decks jet in the face after this. ooops.

#zukaang #avatar the last airbender #fanfic #tag thingies #yay writing #mailee

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

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Now or Never Now

A/N Really more of a PSA: drunkenness and unrequited (or unacknowledged) feelings for your roommate aren’t the best of bed fellows.

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Metric that inspired the title and a few lines is here.

May 1, 2018, The Pride of Spitalfields, London, England

If he were forced to account for his twenty-eight years of life, he reckoned he’d made a decent start of things. It helped to have been born into a loving, boisterous family, cradled in the bucolic nursery garden of the Scottish Highlands. A good education, good values, a strong sense of duty: these he owed to his parents.

Since moving to London at twenty-two, he’d begun to weave the advantages of youth into the intentions of adulthood, with varied results. Failed relationships, the struggles of establishing a career in his uncle’s shadow and the cataclysm of his accident were setbacks, to be sure, but they forged his character in the blast furnace of adversity. He enjoyed the comradeship of a tight-knit group of colleagues and friends. Only three months ago, he’d been promoted to Crew Manager at the Bethnal Green station, and he had his eye on a Station Officer post before he turned thirty-five, his ambition to finally break free of Dougal’s influence. And Claire. He couldn’t count his blessings without numbering his Sassenach among them.

He performed this annual stock-taking as he walked to his local pub. It was his birthday, and he was meeting some friends for a celebratory drink. To absolutely no-one’s surprise except her own, Claire had finished her first year of medical school at the top of her class, and he’d convinced her to join them.

The air was warm and sweet with blossoms as he entered the pub to a rowdy cheer. His mates had secured two tables near the tiny stage where a three-piece band were setting up. The party was well underway, and a pint of lager was thrust into his hand before he’d even taken his seat.

He thought he’d been rather surreptitious in checking the door each time it opened, but Hamish slapped him hard on the back and commented in a voice the whole table could hear.

“Yer Sassenach missus willna get here any faster wi’ yer eyes glued tae the door, lad. Christ, has she got ye whipped!”

He felt the tips of his ears grow warm as the rest of the table laughed and joined in on the good-natured ribbing. When he looked back up, Claire was standing there shedding her coat. He momentarily forgot to breathe. She was wearing black tights and the jean mini-skirt from their first meeting in this very pub, along with a sleeveless, cropped, ruffled confection that he’d definitely never seen before. She was, quite simply, stunning. The momentary lull from the rest of the table told him he wasn’t the only one who thought so. He stood and hastened to greet her with a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Jamie!” she cried. “Happy birthday!” Her arms wrapped around his neck and she leaned in to return his kiss, barely missing his lips. He could smell whisky on her breath.

“Did ye get a headstart on yer celebratin’, Sassenach?” he asked, both amused and confounded. Claire hadn’t mentioned any other plans, and it wasn’t like her to drink alone at their flat.

“Aye, I have,” she giggled. “I had a partner in crime. Look who’s here!”

Claire gestured towards the coat check, where a familiar redhead was flirting with the attendant. His wame plummeted towards his shoes.

“Geillis,” he greeted as she approached. “Welcome back tae London. I didna realize ye were visiting.”

“Aye, we just arrived yesterday. Happy birthday, fox cub. Ye look well,” she commented with a smirk.

“As do ye,” he replied politely, glancing quickly at Claire to gauge her reaction, but she was observing the band, who had just begun to play.

“Och, mince,” Geillis replied. “My arse needed its own baggage allowance, but at least my tits are huge. Ferget about the bairns, I hadta pry Juan Carlos off ‘em so I could join in yer wee festivities!”

It was comforting to see motherhood hadn’t dampened Geillis’ spirit in the slightest.

“I see the lads are all here,” Claire segued quickly. “What are we drinking?”

Jamie slid his chair over to make room for the two newcomers. Before she’d even sat down, Geillis bought a round of shots for the table, to the general delight of his mates. It was going to be an interesting night.

***

“Com’ dance wit’ me!” Claire yelled in his ear louder than was absolutely necessary. Several hours had passed, and he’d lost track of the number of pints and shots she’d consumed. Realizing one of them would need to stay relatively sober, he’d been nursing the same ale for the past hour.

“Claire, I really dinna dance o’ermuch,” he stalled as she dragged him towards the small area between tables where a few other couples were rocking together to a slow ballad.

“Neveryouworry, lad. I’ll lead.” Of course you will, he thought fondly.

Instead of leading, Claire literally fell against his chest, allowing his bulk to catch her. Chilly hands met behind his neck and began teasing his curls where they lay against his nape. He couldn’t’ help it. He shuddered. Drunk, he reminded himself. She is drunk, she is yer roommate, and she trusts ye.

“Are y’ havin’ a good birthday, Jamie?” she murmured into his clavicle, where her forehead was resting. He couldn’t help smiling. He’d once compared her to a lioness, but right now she was doing a fair impression of a dozy kitten, allowing him to sway their bodies side-to-side in complete contradiction to the music’s rhythm.

“Aye. Aye, I am. And ye, Sassenach? Did I mention how proud I am of ye fer acing yer exams?”

The moist air of her chuckle seeped through his shirt. “Only a dozen times. Thanks for keepin’ me fed and caffeinated whilst I studied. I couldinit have done it wi’out you.”

“Twas my pleasure, Sassenach. We make a braw team.”

He said it offhandedly, but Claire stilled in his arms, leaning back to peer up into his face. There was something there, behind her slightly glazed eyes, that he’d given up hope of ever seeing.

“We do, don’t we?” she whispered, gaze flitting between his eyes and his lips, before skittering away. The humid air of the pub seemed to press in on him from all sides, making it difficult to draw a solid breath. A warning bell began to peel somewhere in his mind, alerting him to the fact he was in very grave danger of making an ass of himself.

She’s no’ yours, lad, he coached himself. No’ unless she wills it, and she canna know her own mind when she’s hammered. He tried to divert the conversation to safer territory.

“Tis good tae see Geillis again. Ye must have missed her somethin’ fierce.”

“Mmmm,” Claire hummed noncommittally. One of the hands that had been resting behind his neck began to thread through his hair, fingernails scraping lines of pleasure into his scalp. Christ, that wasn’t helping his cause at all.

“Claire...” he entreated into the scant space between them. Her long legs had somehow become entangled with his own. She was practically riding his thigh. Another few inches, and she was going to come into contact with the only part of him that was enthusiastic about dancing with a beautiful lass.

“I think iz time y’ take me home, James Fraser,” the limpet formerly known as his roommate purred in his ear. Thank Christ. Another few minutes of that sultry upright writhing, and he might have taken her right there on the beer-stained table in front of the darts board.

Navigating Claire’s increasingly pliant body towards the door and the salvation of the cool night air, Jamie ran directly into the diminutive roadblock of her best friend. Pulling him aside, she grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged his head down to her level.

“I ken she’s yer roommate and ye look at her as though she’s the sun after a thousand days o’ rain, but she’s my best friend an’ I love her. She’s scared, but she trusts ye. Dinna fuck it up.”

Without awaiting a reply, Geillis spun around and returned to their table. When he turned towards Claire, she was giving him a peculiar look. He shrugged it off as nothing more than inebriation, and started the short three-legged stumble back to their flat.

“Ye know, Sassenach, this is twa times I’ve had tae practically carry ye home from tha’ pub. Ye’re a verra predictable drunk.” They were navigating Brick Lane with a heavy list to starboard, where Claire leaned heavily into his side.

“First of all, milad, I am. Not. Drunk. You canned be drunk if y’ can shtill walk upright. Thas your rule, may I remind you.” Mid-lecture, the heel of her boot caught between two cobbles. She would have gone down in a heap were he not already bearing most of her weight. “Ooops!”

“An’ second of all,” she continued undaunted, “when didyu carry me again? Since? Fuck! Before?”

He chuckled. If nothing else, Claire was a very amusing drunk.

“Twas the first night we met, actually. Ye were shipping out tae Afghanistan the verra next day.”

They’d reached their front door. He was fumbling for his keys when he noticed Claire had gone remarkably silent. Even in the yellow glow of the hallway, her face was incredibly pale.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach? Are ye gonna be sick?”

What came out of her mouth next was even worse.

“You fucked Geillis. That night. In our shower.”

Golden eyes interrogated him, tearing away any hope of evasion. Gone was the cuddly kitten, and the lioness was on the hunt for blood. Christ, he was going to kill Geillis for sharing intimate details of their one-night stand. Assuming he lived to see tomorrow.

She trusts ye. Dinna fuck it up.

His father had an aphorism he was fond of repeating. Being an adult has little to do with your actions, he would say, and everything to do with living with the consequences of those actions. Any callow lad could stick his cock in a lass, but it took a man to live up to his responsibilities thereafter.

“Aye. I did. Twasn’t planned, nor somethin’ I’m particularly proud of, but thas’ the truth of it. It didna mean anything, Sassenach. Twas jus’ sex.”

They were inside the flat now. He was mentally trying to evaluate whether it was safe for Claire to shower, or if he should simply tuck her into bed with a basin and some Gatorade. She wasn’t moving, though. She stood in the streetlight that illuminated their living space, a disheveled, beautiful mess.

“It’s my turn.” She sounded sober, all of a sudden. He poured a tall glass of cold water from the sink for her, regardless.

“Yer turn fer what, Sassenach?”

“My turn for you to fuck me.”

There was a hollow thunk and the cool splash of water against the cuffs of his trousers as the glass he had been holding hit the floor. His chest felt like he was trying to suck cake batter through a straw. To make matters worse, while he was in the kitchen she had shed her top and was standing in a sheer black bra, the peaks of her nipples cast in silvered shadow.

“Claire...” he breathed out.

She approached slowly, extending a hand to lay over his sprinting heart.

“Don’t you want me?” Asked by any other woman, the question would be coy, but he heard the truth behind her query. She really didn’t know. Either he was a better actor than he gave himself credit for, or she was still seeing him through the filter of her past mistreatment.

“So much tha’ it hurts tae breath, lass. But ye dinna want this, Claire. No’ now.” His body was already protesting his declaration, a pulsing ache centered in his balls, but rooted in his heart.

“It’s now or never now, Jamie. This is all that I have to give. Isn’t it enough?”

She took his hand and placed it over the scalloped seam of her breasts. Without volition, his fingers curled, testing the pliant firmness beneath them. His muscles ached from holding himself in check.

“Tis far more than I deserve, Sassenach. But the answer is no.” He pulled his hand away, his fingertips still tingling from the velvet of her skin. “Ye should get some sleep.”

Her glass face showed every emotion, each more painful to witness than the last: hurt, anger, embarrassment, spite, and finally betrayal. Mumbling a hasty goodnight, she practically ran to her own room. He could hear her there now, sobs muffled by the wall he placed between them.

Dinna fuck it up.

He cradled his throbbing head in his hands. How could doing the right thing turn out so horribly, spectacularly wrong?

***

May 21, 2018, Spitalfields, London, England

It has been twenty days since Claire’s drunken proposition, and they’d barely spoken a word to each other in that time. As much as he was prepared for awkwardness to descend upon their once-easy relationship, he was shocked by how much her avoidance pained him. Couldn’t she see that he’d acted out of affection, and as her friend, ignoring the very great temptation she’d lain at his feet?

His first strategy had been to give her space. He snatched at any excuse to be out of the flat: long runs, a pint after work with the lads, and even a long weekend with his family at Lallybroch. Each day his phone was a constant weight in his hand, waiting for the moment she would text him about something bizarre she’d read, or call to ask where he’d hidden the olive oil. She never rang.

Next he tried haunting their flat, planning to bump into her and force that first, clumsy conversation. He was certain that once they got past that hurdle, they could begin to rebuild their rapport. Almost certain. Desperately certain. She didn’t come home, working double shifts at the hospital and timing her visits for a shower, nap and change of clothes to coincide with his work shifts. One night he fell asleep on the couch listening for the sound of her key in the door. He woke the next morning covered in the plaid from his bed, but once again alone.

He sat in an outdoor cafe, watching London unfold under the warming sun like a rose, and considered what he knew about Claire that would help mend the breach. She was stubborn. The past twenty days were testimony of that. She was proud. She would sooner suffer than accept help. She held herself to incredibly high standards, and hated to fail at anything. She would have taken his rejection in the worst possible light. She’d been badly hurt and deceived. Their relationship had been one cautious step after another across the tightrope of trust strung between them. Fueled by drunken emotion, she’d leapt forward, and he had not been there to catch her.

He opened his phone and stared at her photo in his contacts. She’d been furious with him the day he snapped it. He’d dragged her to a park on her day off to play rugby, only to find out the match had been cancelled on account of the heavy rain. Heavy ringlets hung over a soaking jersey, and her glowing eyes promised swift revenge.

A dozen flowery or flippant texts were considered and abandoned before he opted for the simple and true.

I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I want to make it better. Please tell me how.

He pocketed his phone and crossed the road to the fire station for his evening shift. If she hadn’t answered by the morning, he’d try again, and keep trying until she finally responded.

Twelve hours later, dawn was just cracking the sky as he prepared to walk home. The station alarm rang out, but the day crew would take the call. Even now, they were throwing on their gear and firing up the engine.

“Corbet Place. Isn’t that your neighbourhood, Fraser?” the driver commented as he hastened past.

Ice water flushed into his veins. There were exactly two buildings on Corbet Place, and one of them contained a flat where a beautiful Sassenach was currently sleeping off a double shift. A beautiful Sassenach who could sleep through a fire alarm.

He hoisted himself into the cab of a departing engine.

“Hey lad, this isn’t a taxi!” one of old hands joked, but sobered when he saw Jamie’s face.

The streets were empty. They made the trip in record time that felt like an eternity to his racing heart. As they drew near, the reek of a burning structure filled the air. A half dozen other engines were parked haphazardly in the adjacent lot, their booms extending like insect antennae towards a cruelly familiar five-story brick building. Flames licked the corner of one of the lower levels, punctuated by the pop of shattering glass and the skeletal groan of old beams giving way.

Grabbing a spare coat, hat and respirator, he ran towards his building, ignoring every professional protocol and ounce of common sense he possessed. Claire was in their flat, and there wasn’t a power under the sun that would keep him from getting to her.

“Jamie!”

He spun towards her voice, thinking he might be hallucinating. But no, sitting on a picnic table, wrapped in his Fraser plaid, was his beautiful Sassenach. His knees turned to water and he sank to the bitumen at her feet.

“Claire...” he wheezed, adrenaline still coursing through his limbs.

“Were you on your...”

“How did ye...”

They both spoke, then lapsed back into stunned silence.

“Ye’re safe.” He said it as much to himself as to her. “Ye’re here. I thought.. when I heard the call... Christ, Sassenach. I’ve never been sae scared in my entire life. How did ye get out?”

“I got your text. I was dozing on the couch, waiting for you to come home so we could talk. The fire alarm woke me. There was already so much smoke. I used your plaid to cover my nose and mouth and ran down the fire escape. Oh Jamie, I’m so sorry.”

Claire’s chin fell towards her chest, a lone tear streaking through the soot that marked her cheek. He ran a shaking hand through her unbound hair.

“Why are ye sorry, Sassenach?”

“All your things. Your memories. They were all in that flat.”

He tilted her up by the chin.

“Claire, look at me. There isn’t a feckin thing in tha’ flat that I care about that isna sitting in front of me right now. Jesus, woman, do ye no’ ken the thought of losing ye tears out my guts?”

She looked deeply into his eyes, peering into his very soul. For once, he did not think to hide behind a mask. Let her see how she utterly destroyed and remade him. All around them, the world faded to smoke.

“You... you love me?”

Nownownow.

“Aye. I do.”

#my writing #outlander

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everyone-has-their-story · 4 years

Text

Season 3 episode 5 commentary with my sister:

Remember when I said I knew what was going to happen? LOL to me and my emotions

No, dude go visit your mom!

You and Zoe both need better excuses than “I’m sick”

Sidenote...I am really loving this new location

No Jens, everything is not chill thanks for asking though

Robbe you don’t need weed! You need to talk

No one cares about the broerrrs right now

Noor and him fighting are the least of his problems

Thanks for finally being interested in his life Jens

I mean yeah she wants to have sex, but not really on his list of problems

Sex is overrated? Is that because you have toothpaste?

Please stop talking about this with him

Jens’ advice in a nutshell: Have sex, don’t have sex, its “eh”, but c’est la vie

Incorrect, Jens. She likes him and he likes Sander. Thanks for playing though.

Fucking hell….you’re telling the wrong person you miss them! I don’t have time for this Robbe

Yeah thanks for your shitty advice, but I’m glad you’re being a friend

Oh no no no no!! I don’t like the looks of this at all

Also, what happened to firefighter Robbe from the vlogs? All these candles are a fire hazard

Actually this whole fucking situation is a hazard

Robbe stop! Abort!

*face palms*

I want to feel bad for her but I’m too focused on feeling bad for him

That is not the face of a guy who is enjoying this (robbe takes off her bra)

Wait...did it happen or not?

His face is making me feels level of sad I didn’t know existed

Thank fucking christ that didn’t happen

Oh she is so sweet, I feel bad for her

There will be no next time

Pause it! I know I joke a lot but the fact that he even felt the need to try this is making me so fucking sad…like he tries so hard to be who he isn’t and i hate that for him. And whoever this actor is, is playing the hell out of this character. Bravo my dude….okay play *sighs*

Sweet lord we are only 7 minutes in??

Milan, I know there are weird ass windows on the door but feel free to knock

Read the room, Milan! He is in turmoil, we don’t have time for your shirts!

Yes! Talk to him..thank you!

Hahahhaha Milan you might need more than 15 minutes

You can do it, Robbe. You need to get this out

Repeat after me..”I think I’m gay” you can do it!

Robbe, my love, that kiss suggests that you are in fact into him

Milan is me, I am Milan, we are one

Why must people always mention Noor when he is trying to open up, can we just focus on Robbe?

Milan, give me your number I am looking for a therapist

This is everything Robbe needed to hear

You are normal! You’re just a little confused and sad right now

Scratch that, you aren’t just normal you are fucking phenomenal

When Milan speaks, we all listen

*whispers* this scene is so good

Milan for President! Our president is garbage so the job is all yours

He IS looking better! Thanks for noticing, Jens. Look at you with your 20/20 vision

LOOOOL matchmaker? I hope no one is paying you because you suck at it

HE IS GOING TO TELL HIM! YESSSSS

Hey now ,“shitty” is a bit of an exaggeration

he’s going to do it!

NOOOOO don’t say “her”!!

His face..

Oh wtf!! He was trying to talk...AGAIN! Ughhhh

Robbe needs some sunscreen

Noor is back...cool?

Hopefully you ain’t gonna be “with him” much longer

This is an odd song choice for this atmosphere

Robbe out here making confetti while having an existential crisis and Noor is ordering soup

You looked it up? Did it happen to say “possibly gay” under the list of causes?

Time for yourself? So no Sander?

Yeah this is definitely an odd song choice

Sorry, Noor...you’re sweet but he’s gotta go

Robbe pick up your damn trash!

She will in fact NOT be enjoying that (the soup😂)

I respect him for actually ending it

Wait where are we?

He doesn’t know his own school?

AHHH! Sander!

Omg I’m fucking dumb..it’s Sander’s school...I hate me

Me and Robbe have the same smile when we see Sander

Okay now is not the time for a bathroom break Robbe

Don’t worry about your hair, you look great as always

If looks could kill..

Okay I’m rooting for you Robbe, but I don’t blame him, you fucked up

Cool...that was fun...love seeing Robbe unhappy...my fave

*gasps* he’s back!!

5 minutes? Okay you got this

He’s got a point…

Don’t we all? Get in line (Says he loves him)

You damn right you fucked up

The kiss was mind blowing for everyone, trust me

Is that a small smile I see??

Yes, one more chance, I’m down with that

Ah!! Yeah fuck it (chernobyl)

Oh sweet baby Jesus thank god!!

This whole scene is just amazing, Robbe doing this out in the open? Love that for him

Robbe ain’t letting him go nowhere

No...forget the phon--- oh hell no! Not her!

She fucking better be in the past

Yes, future! Eternity, all of it

No don’t go, stay!

The smiles! My smile! Everyone gets a smile!

Pause it! I have never seen someone so relieved and happy. I feel like he is really starting to figure himself out, you know? I just love that that scene wasn’t over the top, it was simple but amazing. Are you listening to me? (yes) I have so many thoughts right now, please hold *rewatches the scene* okay you can proceed…

Chernobyl? Is this going to become their thing instead of universes? I’m down with that

HAPPY ROBBE FOR 2 SCENES!

Secrets, secrets are no fun..unless they are Robbe’s, then back off

Sooo whatcha get?? (Zoe’s letter)

Oh no, nvm don’t wanna know anymore...make it go away

The preppy psycho is back...fucking hell

AHHH! Sander is back!

The difference between him kissing Sander and him kissing Noor is like night and day

Y’all are fucking adorable

He drew that?? Remember when I liked Even’s drawings?...Sander said nah bitch here you go

I have a wall in my room if you want to paint it there, I’m down

Feeding Robbe? Sure. Feeding Britt? He said SIKE!

Romeo and Juliet..okay I see you wtfock

PAUSE! Omgggggg was he the photographer in like the first episode??? Well fuck me, I’m still dumb.*presses play*

I know I said I wanted happy Robbe, but I feel so overwhelmed right now

His voice is so soothing

Ooop okay so they are still doing the universe thing

Robbe can’t stop touching his hair and honestly...same

You Marvel loving gays

If my bf ever said this shit to me I’d smack him, but coming from them...I love every second of it

Great, sad Sander...why can’t we have nice things

Why are they so fucking great together??

Robbe, I love this new you (straddles Sander)

We ALL fell for you, Robbe

You’re damn right he is the one...lucky bastard

He WAS there!!! I love how I connect shit like 4 episodes later

Robbe initiating every kiss makes me so happy

Forget the text!

Did he just kiss his shoulder?

SON OF A BITCH! Can this girl go away? jfc

Jealousy level 100

Kinda sus…

He loves jealous Robbe

My dude we are ALL happy you’re in this dimension, lets send Britt to a different one shall we?

Pause it! *rewinds to watch scene again*

He disappeared into the night…

How’d he know he was awake? He got a nanny-cam in that room?

You smooth little bitch Sander

He didn’t deny the bf comment, I’m so proud

Remember when I said I was proud of you? I take that back right now..

I hate it. Stop talking Robbe.

I stand by my statement: Milan for President

Cool….that was great….I’ve always wanted an upset Milan….

Robbe just got knocked down about 5 pegs and he deserved it

Senne..not the time my friend

Wait what?? Are they on a date??

Y’all are dorks..i fucking love it

There is so much to focus on right now..

If anyone wants to know what love looks like, I got a scene to show you

Okay Sander I see you...

*singing selena gomez song* can’t keep my hands to myself...I want you all to myself*

Seeing Robbe like this after the previous scene makes me torn

Robbe like needs to be attached to Sander huh?

This is the best scene ever and I’m aware I’ve said that for about 100 other scenes

Robbe you’re adorable and confident, i love it

OH FUCK YOU!! Why do they do this to me?!

Buy me a ticket to Belgium, I gotta have a chat with some dickheads

Forget the bikes! Just leave!

WHY?! I can’t watch…

Is it over?

*big sigh* I honestly have no words…

This is going to have one of them pull away from the other isn’t it? Don’t answer that..I know it will...

I would just like to state that Robbe the king of internalized homophobia just made out with his boyfriend out in the open for everyone to see not once but twice

...I’ll be ready to process in like 15 minutes, I’m going to get more comfort food...

#wtfock #kennedy watches wtfock

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bl597 · 4 years

Text

requested by my dear @whack-ed ♡: "n��o resisti e vou escrever isso em pt, pq sim kkkkkk. okay, então primeiro parabéns pelos 300 seguidores cara, isso é bom demais! pra comemorar junto eu queria um 🍒. Sonserina, bissexual, ela/dela, teatro/escrever/desenhar/costurar, cabelos e olhos castanhos, o cabelo liso e curtinho. cara, pra simplificar, eu me descreveria com essa musica "Good Girls - Elle King". é isso meu amor, e de novo, parabéns! vc merece <3"

I accidentally posted the request and I had to delete it jssjksskjdjd anywayssss obrigada meu amor!!! 🥺❤ eu ia responder em português, mas me sinto meio estranha já que tô meio acostumada em escrever em inglês sksjdjdkdjk espero que tu goste!! 💕

warnings: just fluff, really. it took me a very long time to finish it because i procrastinate quite a lot hahaha i need to stop doing it, i really suck at writing headcanons maybe i'll start writing blurbs instead of them hmmmm. a few curse words i guess :p, english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes! requests are closed for now!!

my masterlist ♡

I ship you with... Fred Weasley!

okay so first of all

you + Freddie = chaos

you two started dating on your fifth year

and you and the twins always pulled prank together

Filch hates you three so much skshdkdjd

you always used the Marauders map - before the twins gave it to Harry - to sneak around in the middle of the night

and if you ever happened to be caught, you always found a way to get out of this

because come on

you probably study theater and you're an amazing actress

so you could always come up with an excuse for why you were outside bed at past cutfew

not that the teachers actually believed it tho

and Fred just thought you were bloody brilliant because?????

how could he not!!

and he always smiles like a fool when you try to convince the teachers that you did nothing wrong

even though the strong smell of dungbomb literally reports you guys

he didn't really like you at first

because you're a Slytherin and he thought you were an asshole just like most of your housemates

but turns out that you're different from them

you're so unique and so you

with all your sarcasm and cheeky replies

he couldn't help but fall hard for you

so one day he just randomly asked you out

and you said yes bc you thought he was cool too

and also bc hes fred fucking weasley i mean?????

so after a little while you started dating

and oh boy is this man the best boyfriend ever

he always flirts with you, no matter how long you've been dating

because he loves the tiny little blush that spreads over your cheeks

Fred loves to cuddle you and to run his hands through your soft short hair

and omg your eyes

he swears he could spend the rest of his life just admiring them

because they're so beautiful!!!

he will always support you

either it's with your passion for theater

or you art

or anything you do

he loves it all and always lets you know how much he appreciates them and you

he loves it when you read the things you wrote

because you write things so beautifully and so wonderfully

and the proud small smile you give him when he asks you to read to him is enough to improve his whole week

he also loves your drawings and how you put your heart in every single line of it

you once drew him and he almost cried a bit

you always cheer for him during quidditch matches

even though your housemates give you disappointed looks

you couldn't care less

you just wanted to support ya boy

ok so

about his family

they were extremely happy for Fred when he told them he was dating

but they were a bit apprehensive when they found out you were a little snake

because of the house bad fame and everything

but he was fast to calm them down and say you weren't like the other Slytherins

and didn't give a shit about blood statuses or some shit like that

so they invited you to spend a week at the Burrow

to get to know you better and to make sure you were a good person for Freddie

and in the very first minutes you spent there

you managed to steal everyone's heart

you got along pretty well with everyone

and they simply loved you almost as much as Freddie boy does

you and Molly would sit down and talk for hours while she teaches you how to knit

she gets even more excited when she learns you know how to sew

anyways

in less than one week, you unofficially became a Weasley :D

Fred loves you and he was extremely happy to see his family loved you too

his family is everything to him and their approval of your relationship was very important to him

I ship you with... Sirius Black!

ben barnes is such a cutie

well lets begin shall we

Sirius is head over heels for you

no one can deny it

you'd be just breathing and he'd be like

ohmygod shes so cute hskshsdjdjksajjdjdks

and you two are like the cutest badass couple ever

but at first it was very completely different

simply because you're a snake and he's a lion

and he hated the Slytherin house because of his family

he hated every single person in Slytherin, and he wasn't really ashamed of that

poor baby he deserved a better family than those assholes :(

one day he happened to accidentally bump into you

and he was going to help you

bc his family was shitty but they taught him some manners

but he abruptly stopped when he saw the green in your robes

and he said something rude and left

but you definitely did not stay quiet

so you just argued with him

and told him to go to hell ooops

and he was like :O

and then you left with your classmates bc you were going to be late to Divination

and Sirius was fucking intrigued

i mean???????

and then when they arrived at the Gryffindor common room

Remus scolded him for being rude to people, specifically Slytherins

and told him to apologize for his childishness

and Sirius was like "hahahaha nice joke Moony"

but he realised Remus was being serious

and he was kinda confused bc??? why is he defending the enemies???

anyways

he somehow convinced Sirius to talk to you

which he did, but whining like a child when their parents don't give them a new toy

you thought he was going to say some shit like that day

so you were with your wand in hand, ready to jinx the shit out of him if he did something

that gladly didn't happen

you were extremely confused and you thought it was a prank

but you saw it wasn't

so you accepted his forced apologies

and after some kinda weird moments of you talking

you decided to be not enemies

you weren't friends yet but weren't enemies either

well I'll start the part where you two are dating or else it'll get longer than it already is lol

when you started dating

your housemates were like

what the fuck??

and you just kinda ignored them bc you were actually happy with Sirius

and let me teLl you

Sirius is a smoll bean even though he has this badboy fame

he loves to see the things you wrote or drew

he absolutely loves them and always tells you how talented you are and how proud of you he is

I don't even have to say that you two pull pranks together

you just like to mess around together

bc you like each other's company

and being chaotic is a bonus

i mean, who wouldn't want to pull pranks with Sirius and mess around with him??

when you came out as bi to him he was very supportive and was ready to beat the shit out of anyone who dared to say shit about you or your sexuality

Sirius says lgbtq+ rights and fuck jk rowling

anyways

he was so excited when he transformed into Padfoot in front of you for the first time

and he was so proud of himself when you smiled widely and showered him with questions about it

yay

you always stayed with him after the full moon and helped madam Pomfrey

bc you wanted to see your baby alright :(

Sirius is really into pda and 100% would randomly kiss you in public

just because he can lol

you love each other too much

you're the best couple ever change my mind

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Text

Match up Duo O.O

Hey there, love! Thank you so much @cailannuesugi , for the request!

So I spend long and hard thinking about your matchup! I went through all the potential options and reread your submission multiple times to make sure whoever I chose would actually match you (well according to my opinion anyway) and through it all, there was just one person that in my mind fitted you perfectly..... so without further ado, I present to you your matchup!

Also, another side note your hair is so freaked beautiful omw I'm jealous!

So I match you with....................... Kenshin

Selfie matchup part

The first time this boy caught a glimpse of you was when you were saved by Yuki from falling off a freaken cliff.

His first instinct is obviously to be uninterested the second he saw you were a woman

But darn if he can’t help but be captivated by you

The first thing he notices is your bold scarlet lips, the contrast between your lips and skin reminded him of a lone red rose bloomed in the snow

He couldn’t help but want to compare you to the beautiful woman in an old fable his mother had once told him of as a child. His mother said to him that one day he would find his own beautiful princess like the one in the story, but he long ago stopped believing in fairy tales.

He felt unsettled by the fact that you matched the very image of the beautiful princess that he had conjured in his mind as a child.

He narrowed his heterochromatic eyes towards you and catch a glance of your eyes, and they were spellbinding

They were deep, earthy brown, resonating with the soul of the earth

One look in those big bright deep mahogany eyes seems to melt away at his frozen heart. They are so full of warmth and understanding

You were messing with his head like no woman has ever done before.

He needed to get away from this woman who reminded him of the purest autumn day, with her long silky honey and spiced hair and sexy ass leather jacket and combat boots.

“This conversation is boring me, Sasuke. When you’re done, I’ll be at the safe house.”

He needed to walk away and get some fresh air, the fairytales his mom had told him as a child was wrong! He is cursed and damned to spend the rest of his life protecting those he loves from himself; she might have been right about one thing, though. And that is that every fairytale has a monster, it’s just unfortunate that he has turned out to be it.

Now for the Matchup Part

The first time you saw Kenshin that night, he looked like a mystical creature bathed in moonlight. You honestly couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. He was absolutely beautiful. And ooooh, his eyes were bright and beautiful, each with their own color. One icy blue shining like the surface of a brilliant blue frozen lake. And one green, reminding you of the spring with hues of the forest rimmed coolly with the color of a meadow on a warm summer day. You had never seen such a beautiful man in your whole life. He was the perfect image of winter. But before you could get a better look at this ice prince, he left abruptly. You half-listened to Sasuke’s explanation about the whole-time traveling ordeal. You were too busy daydreaming to care.

You landed up in Azuchi, and kept mostly to yourself. To say the warlords were intimidated by you would be an understatement. It was only Mitsunari who could see past you resting bitch face and started a friendship with you. From there, your relationships with the other warlords were slowly built. The next time you saw Kenshin was when you were out in the market looking for some good sake to drink. You heard rumors of some dodgy place that sold the best sake in the whole region, and you thought, why not. The place was packed except for the one table near the window. You plonked yourself and ordered. You decided to keep yourself busy by reading a book Mitsunari had borrowed you. You were so thankful at that moment for your cold resting bitchface, cause it ensured that no one would approach you. Kenshin was on the hunt for a drink. He had spent the whole day checking up on Sasuke and spying on the Oda forces, and it was boring him to death. He found a local brewery and decided to go in. Ooh great, it’s packed. He could see on seat over by the window, he stomped his way over there, ordered a drink and plopped himself down. He hadn’t even noticed you until the two of you locked eyes. You felt the presence of someone, and you looked up, annoyed, ready to say something when you saw two familiar eyes staring back at you. You had noticed something in those eyes that you had missed the first time. Loneliness and pain. You looked back down at your book, trying your best not to blush. The two of you just sat there in silence, sipping on your drinks.” Just so you know, I have no intention of wasting my time entertaining you woman”, “That’s good cause I find all men annoying, and I had no intention of entertaining you either.” Both of you were low key too shy and scared to break the ice to actually talk to the other. It was just easier to just sit in silence and drink, while occasionally stealing a glance at the other. At one point in the afternoon, some men decided to harass a woman at a nearby table. Unfortunately for you or maybe fortunately for you, the sake was making you feel feisty and fighty. You stood up and spat a threat to the men harassing her. One thing led to another, and you had solidly punched one of the men in the face... ooops. This didn’t gel well with them because before you knew it, their swords were drawn. Kenshin was low key impressed by your boldness and strength, he decided to lend you a hand, as he too was in the mood for a good fight. He gracefully drew his sword and rested it on one of the men’s throats. The two of you made a pretty good team, getting rid of the annoying as men that ruined both your drinks. Kenshin couldn’t help thinking of you as a Goddess of war, strong and ready to fight for what is right. Both of you finished off your drinks and left at the same time. “stop following me woman,” “I’m not following you this is just my way home, you stop following me.”

Since that day, the two of you had coincidently run into each other everywhere you went. You were starting to think fate had a hand in this. Your run-ins started off as cold silences, with only a few words being exchanged and slowly morphed into longer deeper convos ending with Kenshin walking you home.

One day on a whim, Nobunaga decided to take you with him to battle. You were working in one of the healer’s tents and needed to get supplies. You went into the forest and started gathering up herbs. Shit hit the fan, and all of a sudden, you were in the middle of a full-blown battle, surrounded by the clashing of swords and war cries of warriors. TBH it was very overwhelming, so you crouched down covering your ears from the horrible sounds. That’s when Kenshin spotted you. You looked like a small, frail bunny, shivering from fear. You gave him a weak smile, happy to see a familiar face. And the rest is history. You were now staying in Kasugayama castle as Kenshin’s dearest friend.

The two of you spend as much time together as possible. The residence of the castle was shook at the news that Kenshin was actually interested in a woman. Their eyes would go wide in disbelief when they saw the two of you together. One day on one of your walks in the garden, you saw Kenshin on his knees, digging in the dirt in a fenced part of the garden. It seemed to be a specific piece of ground that was overlooked by his personal balcony. You watched as he had cleared the whole patch of land and was now starting himself a new fresh garden. You sat on a bench nearby watching him when all of a sudden, a little bunny popped out of nowhere, and then another, and then another, before you knew it, you were surrounded by an avalanche of fluff. You were in bunny heaven, with each of them nuzzling into you and licking your hands to show their love and affection towards you. You soon found out that the god of war loved to keep the company of hundreds of sweet fluffy bunnies.

You loved spending time in his room with him. While he would work, you would play with all the little bunnies giving them each individual names. Kenshin couldn’t help but look up and think once again that you reminded him of the woman from that fairytale, the way you engaged with the sweet little rabbits. Often you would feel so inspired playing with the fluffy creatures that you would spend hours drawing the most beautiful sketches of them, so beautiful in fact that Kenshin would hang them all over his room and castle. Proudly showing them off to everyone and anyone, and if you didn’t like the beautiful drawings, he would kill you.

Kenshin loved to spend time with you, and it was no secret to the residence of the castle that he had fallen in love with you. You had accepted him for him. You would listen without judgment when he told you about all the scary things going on in his head. You understood him like no one ever has, and you never tried to fix him but instead had the patience in the world to allow him to heal from his old wounds in his own time. And you love Kenshin with your whole heart; he made you feel unfailing love; he took away all your insecurities and fear. You were the only woman that his eyes will ever see. And he was finally ready to make his feelings for you known and clear.

The two of you had been in an unofficial relationship long enough. Time to set his plans in motion and make this official. He walked to his private garden and planted the last flower. The very last piece of the puzzle. Every day since the day you had arrived, he had planted a flower. With every flower planted, his heart and mind began to heal. With each passing day, the voices would quieten down. He nurtured and tended to the garden with the utmost care and love. Come hell or high water, we protected the flowers. And now, with the last flower in place, it was ready. He called you to his room and said that he had something important to ask you. You couldn’t miss the tinge of fear and anxiety in his eyes. He covered your eyes with his hands and gently lead you out onto the balcony. And when he lifted his hands so you could see, you saw the most beautiful sight. A beautiful garden filled with flowers in the colors of reds, oranges, and yellows. It looked like something out of a fairytale book. You started to tear up at the meticulous way the flowers had been planted and tended to. Even more so when you noticed that they spelled out, “Will you be my Goddess of war.” You couldn’t help but turn to Kenshin, kissing him all over his face. He kissed your cheek and smiled the most beautiful smile you had ever seen and said that he had one more surprise.

Just then, like clockwork, the army of bunnies hopped into the room, carrying a big box delicately wrapped in paper with hand-drawn bunnies all over it. Kenshin handed you the box urging you to open it, you felt bad ripping the beautiful paper, you recognized that the rabbit drawings were the same same as the ones that had been pained all over Kenshin’s room. You instantly knew it had been his handwork. You carefully opened the gift to see two items. Kenshin lifted a beautiful flower crown out of the box and placed it on your head while saying, “for the princess of my heart.” Then he lifted out a silky soft black fluffy Hoari similar to the one he usually wore and draped it over your shoulders. “I know it might not compare to your favorite leather jacket left in Azuchi, but I hope this will suffice”. You were honestly the happiest woman alive!

Hehe, the two of you were honestly couple goals wearing matching black fluffy capes and cold unapproachable expressions of your face. Only your friends knew that the two of you were the softest, most sensitive people alive. If Kenshin loved drinking and banquets before, he sure as hell loves them even more now, with the love of his love cuddled up in his lap. He has discovered that his beloved bunny gets in an extra fluff mood after a few drinks. Kenshin would always ensure that there were more than enough sweets to keep your sweet tooth satisfied, even threatening to kill Shingen if he dared touch the candy. He would low key feed you the candy while you were cuddled up on his lap. Kenshin loved snuggling and cuddling you during these banquets, occasionally placing a few kisses on your neck and cheek.

The two of your cute love birds can often be found snuggled up in each other’s arms. Kenshin’s absolute favorite, though, is resting his head on your lap while listing to the sound of you beautifully melodic singing. He loved the feeling of your fingers gently playing with his hair. Kenshin can’t help but think back to his childhood and the story his mother had told him. Perhaps his mother wasn’t wrong when she said that he would be blessed to find a beautiful princess. But she did have one fact wrong, he thought. It was not the prince who had saved the princess at the end of the day, but the princess who saved the prince.

Other potential matches...........................Shingen

Hope ya enjoy gal! And I hope you have a good day and stay safe and well! <3

#uesugi kenshin #ikesen kenshin #kenshin ikemen sengoku #kenshin uesugi #kenshin matchup #ikesen selfie matchup #selfie matchup #ikemen matchup #ikesen matchup #matchups

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whumpster-fire · 4 years

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Whumpmas In July - Day 12 (Belated): “Do it.”

CONTENT WARNING: Female whumpee, minor whumpee - and I don’t mean “can get a driver’s license but not vote.” Character is 18 days old at the time of this incident, and mentally a child. Read at your own risk.

The Animator’s voice was low and calm – irritatingly calm. His brown eyes stared down through his glasses with barely a spark of anger. “If you ever – and I mean ever – pull a stunt like that again, you’ll be disposed of. The Resistance needs weapons, not liabilities.”

Wendy Weasel, Human Resistance Toon Weaponization Program Number 15, scowled up at him, flattening her ears partway and baring her pointed teeth. “What, you givin’ me this goddamn lecture now? Couldn’t you have done it...” she glanced around, looking for a clock. When she didn’t find one, she made a watch appear on her wrist, then remembered she didn’t know exactly when the event she was referring to was anyway. “...Yesterday morning? Or were you scared Herschel was gonna turn that hammer on you too if you interrupted him?” She wasn’t scared of Lowell. He was one of the two Animators, and de facto leaders, of the Human Resistance, but he wasn’t the one who’d drawn her. He didn’t have the guts to create something like her.

Lowell’s brow furrowed, stretching the skin on his shaved-bald head. “I know you’re trying to turn Herschel and me against each other, Number Fifteen, and it’s not going to work. I’m not going to be baited into badmouthing my colleague and closest friend to a toon. Herschel has a short temper, but his actions were warranted given yours. The only thing I have to question is whether he went far enough.”

The man was so composed and non-threatening it was boring. He was almost three times Wendy’s height, of course, but she doubted he’d ever been in a fight in his life, unless you counted getting shoved into a locker. And size was nearly meaningless against a Toon. Mental and emotional strength was what counted. Any human was helpless against her physically, but she couldn’t exactly take a mallet to her superiors or she was as good as dead. What she could do was mess with their heads, and Lowell seemed to think if he showed the emotional range of a bowl of wet sawdust she’d have nothing to use against him. “Besides,” he went on, “I don’t think you were in any state to hear me then.”

“Exactly,” Wendy said with a smirk. “Would’a been better for everyone that way. I wouldn’t have to listen to you, and you could pretend you were the one making an impression.” But her gloved hands clenched. Yeah, like she needed to be reminded that Herschel’d beaten her into a bloody pulp, which it wasn’t supposed to even be possible to do to a toon. But the Resistance had invented a special plastic that completely suppressed her reality warping abilities, and a fluid that didn’t dissolve toons’ flesh like Dip did, but it made it break and yield and not bounce back… like a human’s. She rubbed her wrist where the cuffs had dug in, and her chin where he’d broken her jaw. The damage was gone now, of course, now that her powers were back, but it was still sore. Her throat hurt too, from Herschel forcing the damn stuff down it and then her puking it back up along with half the ink in her body and maybe a couple internal organs. It was almost impossible to permanently injure a toon, but the problem was, the line between thoughts and reality was so blurred for them that the memory of pain could be almost as bad as the real thing – sometimes could even make an injury reappear, or take way longer to heal, if you couldn’t get it out of your head. Lowell bringing it up again was a dick move. He was really pissing her off now. She wanted to kill someone – or something. Not like she was allowed to kill humans anyway. Even enemies of the Resistance she’d need a direct order to harm. And other toons, the creatures she was made to kill, were in the ‘something’ category. Like her.

But there was tension in Lowell’s face too. Good. Prick. Like she needed a repeat of the same fucking lecture, except not even entertaining.

“Fifteen...”

“Ooops! Was that last bit out loud?” Wendy’s voice was still hoarse and scratchy. It had barely been an hour since she’d finally been let out of the cuffs and the straitjacket and muzzle.

Lowell sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Apparently you do,” he said through gritted teeth. “Although you’re right, I doubt it will sink in anyway, which is why I’m in agreement with Gene and Lawrence that you should have just been Dipped. And you should know, I’ve discussed it with Herschel, and he’s only resistant to the idea because -”

“Because I’m the daughter he never had?” Wendy interrupted.

“No. If you’re trying to shock me, forget it. I’ve known about Herschel trying to create a Toon as a surrogate child for years – his story was part of what opened my eyes about Toons. I’ll admit when he created you and Number Six with such… childlike forms, I was worried he still had some sentimental tendencies, but even if he did I doubt they survived contact with you.”

Wendy’s smirk got bigger. It had taken all of five sentences to get him ‘badmouthing’ Herschel. Although he hadn’t exactly said anything juicy.

“Listen. The reason you’re still alive is because Herschel’s afraid. He’s afraid of you, he’s afraid of another feedback event like the one when you were created, and he’s always been a bit overly cautious. But remember this: you represent about a week’s work for either of us – maybe two. You aren’t irreplaceable, and you aren’t invincible. I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not afraid of getting rid of you. Six, Eleven, and Eighteen can all fulfill your role for a few days, and once Herschel’s and my next creations are animated, there’s nothing stopping us from -”

“Blah, blah, yadda, yadda.” Wendy feigned a yawn. “Come up with some new material, and then get somebody else to threaten me with it, ‘cuz your delivery’s a lost cause. And so’s your animation talent. You think Eleven can replace me? The moron I got to deep fry himself when I was just drawn? Ya know, calling me replaceable’s really the pot calling the kettle black when all your toons are good for is making Dip soup.” Her smirk grew to a vicious grin as Lowell’s face finally contorted in anger. He made a grab for her. She nimbly stepped back, waited for him to blink, and reappeared behind him. “And so’s calling Herschel too cautious. At least he’s not some spineless dickweed who can’t draw up any toon with the balls to reach down and scratch ‘em without asking permission first, because he was terrified of Elmer Fudd as a child and now he relives his boyhood nightmare every time he looks in the mirror. Face it Lowell, you’re the replaceable one around here, not me! If Herschel died tomorrow the Resistance’d be fucked. If you died tomorrow, they’d just have to put up a classified ad for some animation college dropout – ack!”

Oh, she was dead. That had felt good to say, but he was soooo dead. She’d been letting him get a little closer with each lunge, reveling in how angry she’d gotten him, reveling in how she’d completely ruined his calm demeanor, reveling at the fact that whoever checked the security cameras was going to get a good ab workout laughing at Lowell’s expense. But she’d dropped her guard a little too much, and he’d moved faster than she’d expected. He seized her by the throat and slammed her against the concrete wall. It wouldn’t have even been enough to get her adrenaline pumping if it wasn’t still sore. And even so… why was having her ability to breathe cut off like this making her pulse jump like crazy, and not in a fun way?

“Fifteen, I swear… I swear to God… I’ve spent ten years of my life dreaming of wiping your species off the fucking Earth, but I’ve never wanted to kill a Toon as much as I do right now...” His glasses were askew. His eyes were mad, the pupils unevenly sized. An occupational hazard. Bringing a toon to life was kind of like sticking your head in a microwave. Everyone in the profession had some kind of brain damage, Herschel had said. Some just hid it better than others. “I want to melt that smile right off your fucking face...”

“Go ahead then. Do it.” Wendy pried his hand away just enough to get the words out. “If you want me dead that bad, then kill me.” Yeah, right. She knew he was bluffing. Oh, the Resistance’s leadership weren’t happy that she hadn’t technically 100% done exactly what she was supposed to, and the mission hadn’t technically been successful, but they also knew she’d mopped the floor with Acme Looniversity’s star pupils, and Riley – Number Six – had barely made it out of a one-on-one fight alive. That kind of power was too valuable to throw away, not when they didn’t know if the Animators could replicate it.

But suddenly, that power vanished. Wendy felt the horrible cold feeling of one of the plastic cuffs snapping shut around her neck. Tight. Too tight. Suddenly everything was weak. She couldn’t pull her head free, or even squash and stretch her neck so she could breathe freely, or create a crowbar out of Hammerspace to break the lock. She’d felt this awful, helpless feeling once, and she’d sworn she never would again. But she hadn’t even made it a couple hours.

“Uhh… just… just kidding, Lowell...” Wendy gulped. The calm was back, icy and satisfied, as he dragged her down the hall towards the elevator. “Hey, I got legs! Put me down, you fucking -” She kicked and clawed at the cuff. It felt like a truck was parked on her windpipe.

The elevator rose one level. Level Four. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. Dip wasn’t the only thing the Resistance made there: there were also weapons, spare parts for the ACME Machine, and other equipment they couldn’t exactly buy at a hardware store. But when Lowell had two other guys blindfold her, and tie her hands behind her back, she knew.

He was going to kill her. He was actually going to kill her. The harsh chemical smell of Dip, the one substance that was lethal to her kind, burned her nose and sent icy veins of instinctive panic coursing through her body.

“Morning, Lowell,” an older man with a rural midwestern accident said. “What’ve you got there?”

“A discipline problem,” said Lowell. Wendy could hear his scowl. Then, he hastily added: “Oh – good morning to you too, Bill!”

“Fuckin’ dweeb,” Wendy muttered under her breath. Not like they could hear her over the ventilation fans anyway.

“What’re you bringing it up here for, then?” Bill – one of the Resistance’s chemists – asked in an irritated voice. “I’ve told you guys I don’t agree with you letting your little Frankenstein’s Monsters run around this place, but – well, living quarters are one thing, this is another. I gotta remind you, even if your plan’s a total success you still need Dip to finish a toon off, and there’s a lotta fragile equipment on this line.”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow a bucket.”

“Aaahhh...” Bill whistled. “Ah, that kind of discipline problem. About time if you ask me. I’ve been sayin’ you oughta melt that thing down before it kills someone.”

Wendy’s fists clenched. She glared daggers through the blindfold in the direction of his voice. A hundred comebacks and insults ran through her head, and it took all her willpower to bite her tongue. But right now, the anger was being blotted out by an emotion she’d hardly ever felt in her life. True fear. Her whole body felt weak, like her bones might dissolve and she’d melt into a puddle even before they finished her off. She heard Lowell saying something to Bill that she couldn’t make out over the hum of the fans and the pounding of her own heart. She felt sick to her stomach – although that could’ve been just the smell of Dip. She wanted to be anywhere but here – to vanish and reappear somewhere else in the underground complex. She wanted to pull a hacksaw out of Hammerspace to get rid of the cuff choking her, or failing that just blast it to pieces even if it meant setting off enough explosives to level a city block in her own face. Hell, she wanted to make Bill try it on for size on his fat fucking neck. The result would probably be like putting a bunch of rubber bands around a watermelon, but if they were going to kill her anyway, did it really matter if she got a parting shot?

But she was completely helpless in this goddamn thing. No teleportation, no hammerspace, no playing tricks on the humans’ minds. She should have had the strength to whip the two men’s legs out from under them and take them apart like Tinker Toys, but instead she was almost as weak as a creature her size should have been if it obeyed normal laws of physics.

A boot caught her under her ribs, hard enough to lift her off her feet and throw her across the room. It knocked the breath out of her, but it didn’t really hurt much. Even with the cuff cartoon physics still applied if something else hit her. But it did hurt that the blow had come out of nowhere. She’d been completely unable to see it, avoid it, or even brace herself.

She tried to run when she heard the bucket being filled – the sloshing of liquid, the squeaking and clanking of the handle. The smell was almost overpowering. But something tripped her, and she was dragged back by her tail and thrown against a concrete wall. That gave her an idea. She thrashed against it, dragging her temples along the rough cement to try to pull the blindfold free, but it didn’t budge.

“Come on, guys, you know I was joking, right? Right?” she fidgeted nervously, waiting for the fatal blow. “You’re almost as good an animator as Herschel, and I’m really sorry I said you were scared of Elmer Fudd. And Bill, I’m sorry I stole all your socket wrenches and replaced them with left-handed ones.” Metal scraped against cement. The bucket was being lifted. Wendy’s blood froze. She froze, pressing herself back against the wall. “Fuck! Don’t kill me, don’t kill me, don’t kill -”

She was cut off by the shock of cold liquid hitting her. She instinctively closed her mouth and ducked her head as best she could trying to protect her nose and eyes, but she knew it didn’t matter. She knew what Dip did to toons. A direct hit like this would dissolve her alive within seconds. Every muscle tensed, and she didn’t dare breathe as she tried to brace herself for what would surely be indescribable agony. A flood of panicked emotions melted her brain from the inside out. She was dead she was dead she was dead!

Only… she wasn’t. The pain never came. There was a little numbness, but it was just from the cold. Her fur was soaked to the skin, but it wasn’t melting her, just freezing her.

There was a howl of laughter. The blindfold was ripped away, and she stood there blinking and shivering in the fluorescent lights. A clear puddle was running down to a drain in the floor. Bill stood there holding an empty bucket, but there was a second one sitting nearby, full of caustic green liquid. That son of a bitch. It was water. Ordinary fucking water, but they’d even been smart enough to fill one with real Dip so the smell would fool her. He’d tricked her. He’d tricked her!

“Hoo! Man, did ya see the look on her fuckin’ face? I still think you should’ve dipped her for real, but damn, bet those couple weeks of life flashed before her eyes, huh? That oughta straighten ‘er out!”

Lowell smiled and gave a soft chuckle. “Don’t be fooled. They imitate human facial expressions and body language, but they’re no different from -”

“HAL 9000, like that scene in the movie where he’s telling Dave not to unplug him?”

“Exactly. Toons have a basic self-preservation instinct, but it’s not the same as human fear. We were unsure about whether to eliminate it from our creations, but they wouldn’t be nearly as effective in combat without it. And there are only two ways to motivate and discipline a creature with no capacity for empathy or morality: blind, programmed obedience, and fear. The first on its own would, again, make them too susceptible to mental manipulation.”

Wendy couldn’t make herself say a word as the animator knelt and reached out for her throat with a magnetic key. She was afraid her voice would break. Her breath was already catching in her throat in a way the pressure on her windpipe couldn’t cause, and silent tears mixed with the cold water dripping down her face. She couldn’t stop shivering. She hated cold. She hated it. She was so goddamn sick of how the compound was always at fifty-five degrees or something – maybe warmer in here with the heat given off by machinery and chemicals, but still always uncomfortably chilly.

Click. The cuff opened. The instant the cuff was released from her neck, Wendy snapped the zipties binding her wrists. She winced and rubbed her throat, and wrung out her soaked gloves. She fought the urge to shake herself dry; she’d probably get punished for that, too.

“Get the message, Number Fifteen?” Lowell said icily. “The next time, it won’t be water.”

Wendy nodded, and swallowed hard. Painfully. “Yeah. Whatever. There’s not gonna be a next time.” There was a concerned look. “Because I won’t screw up again.”

“This isn’t about your actions. This is about the attitude that lead to them.”

“I know.” Bullshit. What did he want her to do, bow before him and polish his shoes? He’d said it himself, the whole reason she was made was to have a toon in the Resistance’s arsenal that wasn’t a sniveling toady, that was completely devoted to her purpose and sure of herself enough to carry out her mission even if the humans that were supposed to be commanding her got killed, or worse – that was smart enough to disobey if her superiors fell under the enemy’s power. And that was exactly what she’d done – minus getting carried away a little bit. If Lowell had a problem with her attitude he could take it up with Herschel, not her.

But she couldn’t say any of it. That confidence had just evaporated. All that was left was ice-cold fear and burning anger and hatred that met in a deadly explosion. “Sir.” Goddamnit, why couldn’t she stop shaking? She spat the word out and glowered up at him. She clenched her fists, and a little smoke rose from her gloves. “I...” Fuck it. “I’ll be good.”

She snatched the empty bucket out of his hands and darted off around the corner. The moment she was out of sight, she folded space around her and her next step took her into the small concrete cell that passed for her quarters.

“Son of a bitch,” she snarled. A lit stick of dynamite under the upturned bucket shredded it like tinfoil in a blender, but that didn’t satisfy her. She wanted to kill something. She wanted to wring the neck of the next toon she saw and shove its face into a barrel of Dip herself. She wanted to die, but not enough to actually do it. The next words were just a whisper. “I didn’t even do anything that time.”

Just like she predicted, Wendy’s voice broke. It was freezing in the cell, and the water made it worse, but she didn’t have the mental energy to create something that would dry her off properly. She just pulled a threadbare towel from behind her back and wrapped it around herself, and shrank back into the corner, shuddering. Almost died. She’d almost died. For nothing. Just because she wouldn’t stop running her mouth. Just for behaving exactly how she’d been drawn to.

She knew she’d have a chance to release this anger, sooner or later. Being blown into a thousand pieces wouldn’t let her next target escape. It didn’t matter if they were toon or human, they were gonna die screaming. But the pain, the humiliation, the unfairness, ran too deep for the anger to burn them away. And she didn’t know what to do with them.

Faked emotions. Imitated expressions, basic instincts. The least Herschel could’ve done was made her not fool herself into believing her own lies. This was why she was glad she wasn’t human, even if it meant she was inferior, just a monster made to kill other monsters. She didn’t want to know what the real thing was like.

____

My first ever Tumblr prompt response fiction, yay! Meet Wendy Weasel, from my Who Framed Roger Rabbit (setting, characters are mostly from Animaniacs, Tiny Toon Adventures, and Looney Tunes) fanfic La Resistance. Basically she’s a Toon who was created by a genocidal terrorist group that wants to wipe Toons out, and for all intents and purposes a child soldier. When she’s not making life hell for the protagonists, she’s pissing off her own side as much as possible because she’s bored / wants attention. She’s way too cocky and aggressive for her own good.

This is the epitome of what I said in another post about liking whumpees who are dangerous to the whumpers. Power-suppressing cuffs and Dip not withstanding, there’s nothing but psychological conditioning between Lowell or anyone else in the Resistance and a shoebox funeral if Wendy turns on them, and they both know it. The problem is neither of them actually understands the true nature of that conditioning.

#whumpmasinjuly #whump fic #non-human whumpee #minor whump #dehumanization #mock execution #@whumpmasinjuly #minor whump tw #toon #who framed roger rabbit #fantastic racism

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magnumdays · 5 years

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Magnum PI 2x09 - A Bullet Named Fate

Starting off with the title, which I, unlike last week, LOVE to DEATH. This is a proper good Magnum PI title. Only alternative title I’d be willing to accept is “I’m A Bad Influence”

Only that wouldn’t be quite right, because as of late, I feel like Magnum is actually the most mature of them all. We got Gordon punching people, we got Rick randomly quitting his job and buying a bar, Higgins throwing caution (and Britishness) to the wind to partner up with Magnum (for Higgins, that is full-on crazy), her being all passive-aggressively salty about Magnum taking a case against her wishes and now randomly opening a bottle of Robin’s wine. Also, TJ and Kumu getting arrested (for standing up for what they believe in, so I guess that’s good but still.)

Meanwhile, we got Magnum asking Higgins to become his partner because she makes him a better detective, telling Abby they can make a long-distance relationship work (which she shut down in a second but you know, points for trying), him telling Higgins that they have to be honest with each other and talk about their problems and feelings, him trying to wine (and dine) a fancy client and then replacing a really expensive bottle of wine he broke.

Is Magnum winning at maturity this season?

I think he might be.

And I don’t mind. It’s just funny when you think about it, because Magnum keeps getting crap about how immature he is and stuff.

Anyway, on to the actual review. This week we start off with Old Guy Private Detective Harry stumbling around, bleeding, trying to reach out to Magnum.

Serious start for an overall serious episode.

Part of me I really loved the case this week. It was more clever and interesting than a lot of the cases have been lately. It hit all the right spots, we got poor Harry kicking things off, pulling Magnum into the case, then it twists around 100% when they find the super creepy kidnap room with the drawings and then again when we realize it’s another girl and not the daughter who is the kidnap victim. A sweet kiddy hug with Higgins and then little girl reunited with family cuteness. It ticks all the boxes for me.

Except for the “internal conflict” (other than Magnum blaming himself we get very little of this) or emotional conflict between characters. There was no Miggy fight/ banter/disagreement. No TJ and Rick trying to get a loan/ lying vet/ moral dilemma. No worrying father figure might have cancer. So while I loved the case/plot, the emotional impact of this episode wasn’t as big for me.

I feel like if they’d thrown in more of moment where Higgins was all “who would do this” and Magnum added “IDK, I was in isolation when I was at the POW camp, and can’t believe someone would do it to a kid” or Higgins revealing some situation where she had been in trouble as an MI6 agent and thought she’d go to jail, it would have resonated super well and added so much to the episode.

We do get some adorable Miggy moments in the basement, both at the start and at the end of the episode (I feel like this is a new standard, all episodes must now start with Magnum / Higgins and also end with them! It’s the law!)

But with all the amazing Miggy content, we’ve been getting in season 2 I think I’m getting spoiled. This was no nearly enough. If it had been any other show and my faves were all sweet and supportive (I mean this is basically Higgins give Magnum 20 hugs and telling him everything is going to be alright, in Higgins speak) after he lost a big client, I’d been ecstatic. But because I now feel entitled to at least 10 seconds of fond gazing and mixed with flirty banter every two minutes, this episode isn’t doing it for me (in the Miggy department).

I can’t believe he actually replaced the bottle though...I mean, Higgy was maybe more shocked than I, but not by much. I feel like someone needs to write a meta (or whatever) on what the wine bottles + cellar throughout the series symbolize. Or maybe I’m overthinking it, but I feel like it’s something! I mean wine does mean happiness, friendship, and transformation (according to my two-second google search) which so totally connects with Miggy’s storyline.

As for the side-plot with Kumu, TC and Molly, I liked it, but it, as I said before, felt like it was lacking conflict between the characters. Sure, we had Molly’s mom being upset but who wouldn’t be, having to pick their 16-year-old up from the police station! but she was just som rando we don’t know (or do we?).

Who is this lady who plays Molly’s mother? Where do I recognize her from? Who does she look like? Please send help!

So while the side plot was cute and I kind of liked it, just like a lot of the side plots, it doesn't tie in with either theme or the case of the episode. I really would like to know if there is a plan for them or is it just fillers? I really don’t know what they want to do with them.

If the focus had been all on the gang and their personal problems (like the bar getting on its feet, someone at the Cultural Center being killed and they investigate it a little each episode, Higgins making a friend at yoga or Robin master’s house having mold and now Higgins has to move in with Magnum...ooops, fan fic idea not likely show plot.) that’s been more interesting.

The protest was a bit of follow up but I thought the construction guy was all fine and cool about the sacred site at Halloween? Now suddenly it’s being torn down/ built over? I guess people can change their minds, and also drama. This isn’t quite the connected plotline I was hoping for but at least it’s a little bit of one.

But what’s the point of side plots right now?! I know not everything has to have a meaning or come back but a little more would be fun. I mean even just something small like they’re adding a pool to Robin’s Nest, could be a fun side plot (the construction project where everything goes wrong! Also a fun FF idea).

That’s pretty much it for today! It sucks that we have to wait 2 weeks but I guess you all in America are going to be in food comas from Thanksgiving / out shopping next Friday so it makes sense we have to wait for a little! And once that one is done it’s over for this year (this decade really. Can you believe it’s 2020 in like a month and some change??)

Now for something else. Each week I tend to have a moment or two where I go um what? If it’s me being clueless, not being American or actual strange things, I don’t know. But if you know what’s going on/ have an answer, please write me a line!

Um what?

What sixteen year old is applying to college? Is this a normal thing?

Can you arrest people for peacefully protesting? Is this a thing? What about Freedom of Speach and all that you’re semi-famous for America?

Where was the heir? The guy whose house Harry found? Magnum said at the end that they closed two cases but did they ever figure out where this guy was and why all that mail was piled up outside his house? I want to know!

Why did you not start by checking empty listings/ properties? I mean seriously? Have you never seen an episode of anything where the bad guy is a realtor? They always hide out in empty properties! Geesh, Magnum, is it your first day on the job?

#mangum pi #magnum pi 2018 #magnum pi cbs #thomas magnum #magnum pi review #Magnum pi 2x09 #miggy #can't believe we have to wait two weeks #magnum x higgins

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alittlestarling · 5 years

Text

Inktober #4 - Freeze

“Your face will freeze that way, cara mia, if you keep looking like that. Perhaps I may - ouch!” Roz was glad to have the chatter stop as she ‘accidentally’ pressed a little too hard against the wound she was binding on their newest companion. A pack of strays, the lot of them, and Vincent seemed keen to continue his collection of misfits as they traveled across the countryside.

This one she would have happily done without.

“Hold still,” Roz rolled her eyes as she added a little more ointment to the deep gash on Zevran’s forehead, “or this will hurt more.” There was less than sweet smile on her lips, an edge to her voice, but he still laughed at her.

“As you will it, dear Rosalind.” There was another sharp intake of breath as she pressed harder again, this time looking him directly in the eye so he’d know she meant it.

“Ooops.” Venom would have been preferable, but Roz finished swiftly, pressing her lips into a thin line before pulling her hands away from him. If it had been her choice, they would have left him to bleed out by the side of the road, but she wasn’t in charge.

A glance across the way and she spotted Vincent digging through some of the turned over crates of supplies; looking, she knew, for anything of value they might sell along the road to keep their dwindling supplies replenished.

“I wish you hadn’t invited the assassin along.” Hands on her hips, Roz enjoyed a moment of towering over the crouched Warden, knowing full well that once he stood she’d be at chest height for him again, if even that. “Who knows what trouble he’ll bring.” Already they had a lay sister from the Chantry, a former prisoner Qunari and the Wardens themselves to draw attention to them, they didn’t need more trouble.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Vincent was impossibly cheerful as he stood, grinning a little down at Roz. “He seems pretty harmless now.”

Roz paused, glancing at Vincent incredulously. “Warden, he tried to kill you, or have you forgotten that?” Despite being close in age, there was a certain naivete about him that Roz found both annoying and (secretly) a tad endearing. The men she’d experienced in the world had been brash, brutish things that were easily lured into the swamp by girls whom they thought helpless.

She knew the trick of hiding her teeth, showing softness that would eventually give way to sharp edges and wicked intent.

“No, but I don’t think he’ll try to kill us now.” And there it was - an expression of dazed uncertainty, a flush creeping up Vincent’s neck. Roz may not know much about the world outside, but she recognized that look.

“Oh for-” and Roz threw her hands into the air, exasperation rolling off her in waves. “What, so you’re smitten with him now, are you?”

The flush spread up his neck, pink mottling his skin as he quickly replied “No!” Then, a little bashfully after a moment’s pause, he added. “Maybe?”

As though sensing it, Zevran lifted his hand to the pair of them, tossing a wink their way once he was certain he’d caught their eye. Roz rolled her eyes and Vincent coughed, all but deep red at this point.

Men.

“Fine. Don’t come crying to me when he stabs you in your sleep.” Turning on her heel, she bent to grab her satchel, stomping far away from Vincent. “Do let me know when you’ve finished flirting with the enemy.” That wasn’t fair, but Roz didn’t know how to stop the words from coming out. Her stomach flipped briefly, emotions knotting over...what? She didn’t care about it, she shouldn’t even bother letting herself indulge in-

She cut the thought off at the pass, leaning to pull a sprig of elfroot up, stuffing it inelegantly into her bag.

From behind, Roz heard Alistair clearing his throat. “For the record, I actually agree with you.”

“Will wonders ever cease?” But the pair briefly shared a moment, a little smile tugging along the corners of Alistair’s mouth and Roz, decidedly, not insulting him. Wordlessly, they moved along as Roz ducked away to collect more plants, shoving them (and her feelings) as far from the sun as she could.

#inktober for writers 2019 #inktober 2019 #rosalind trevelyan #vincent trevelyan #zevran arainai #alistair theirin #dragon age origins #verse: witch of the wilds #i'm digging the forward momentum i've got going rn

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gypsyscarfwoman · 5 years

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For being you

So, the fabulous @kate-dammit-run had a birthday yesterday. I am a lousy friend and didn’t get this done in time, but she’s still absolutely amazing and wonderful and go shower her with love, okay??

(I think I got this gif from @itsmonkeypajamas? Thank you! ETA: Nope, apparently it was made by Terp4Life on Fanfic.net. Ooops!)

So to celebrate Yas, here is a tiny Jeller birthday fluff. For the purposes of this story, the last two minutes of 4x16 didn’t happen. The team arrests Madeline, Dominic hides in a linen closet or something to avoid getting arrested, and Jane and her adoring husband head back to the office with the rest of the team. This story takes place three days later.

The apartment was dark and quiet when Kurt got home. Even though he knew he likely had no reason to panic, he couldn’t help the small shiver of alarm that went down his spine. Jane had left the office before him; she should have been home by now.

“Jane?” he called out anyway, hoping that maybe she’d just fallen asleep, but a quick search of the apartment confirmed she wasn’t there.

She’d been quiet since she’d seen Borden. Not like the shutting-him-out quiet he’d been fighting before. This quiet was more thoughtful, as though she was trying to work through a puzzle of some sort. When he caught her with her mind wandering, she’d give him a sweet, apologetic smile, nothing like the tortured expressions she’d worn before.

He hadn’t pressed her to talk. He was determined to give her whatever time and space she needed to sort through the jumble of her memories and whatever light Borden had been able to shed on them. But right now, he would have given just about anything to know what was going through her head… Or at the very least, where she was.

At that moment, the phone he’d forgotten he was holding vibrated in his hand.

Running an errand. Home in a few minutes. I’ll shower after you.

He exhaled and scrubbed a hand over his face. It was possible the stress of the past few days was getting to him. They’d been interrogating Madeline for days, but she had to yet to say anything useful. She just smirked at them, and with Dominic still on the loose, it was entirely possible they hadn’t actually stopped her plans—whatever they were.

He shook his head, determined to put work out of his mind, and went off to take his shower as Jane had instructed.

***

The minute he turned off the water, he could tell she was home. He could hear music playing faintly from the record room.

He dried off and pulled on clean sweatpants and a t-shirt in record time, then pushed open the door to the bedroom. A delicious smell wafted down the hallway, drawing him toward the living room.

The lights were low, and the table had been carefully set with candles and cloth napkins.

“Happy birthday.” Jane came out of the kitchen and rose up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

He blinked at her.

She tilted her head, and her eyebrows went up. “Did you really forget your own birthday?”

“No, I didn’t,” he denied automatically. “It’s not—” In his mind, he saw the date he’d typed on the report he’d submitted right before he’d left work. “It is my birthday.”

She was openly laughing at him now, and he’d forget his birthday every year if it made her green eyes sparkle at him like that.

“It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

She sobered immediately. “It has been. I’m sorry, I’ve been so wrapped up in my—”

“No.” He reached up to cup her face in his hand, softening the harsh word with a brush of his thumb across her lips. “You don’t need to apologize. You don’t ever have to apologize to me for any of that.”

She swallowed, blinking rapidly, and then she kissed his thumb. “Thank you,” she whispered, her breath warm on his hand. “For everything. For being so supportive and helping me through this and not going crazy when I haven’t been able to explain any of it to you.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, so he could rest his forehead against hers. “I wish I could make it easier for you,” he admitted, “but you know I am here when you’re ready to talk about it.”

“I know.” She nodded, her hair tickling his cheek. “And I love you for it.”

“I love everything about you,” he reminded her. “Even your complicated personal history.”

She laughed softly but hugged him tight. And then she leaned away slightly so she could look up at him. “Anyway, I thought you deserved something special for your birthday, but since we’re still in the middle of a case, this is the best I could do.” She nodded in the direction of the table.

He sniffed the aroma emanating from the kitchen. “Is that chicken marsala?”

“Of course. From your favorite restaurant. And I got dessert too.”

He looked at her with wide eyes. “Chocolate lava cake?”

She gave him a smug grin. “In the oven. Should be ready by the time we are done. And then I promised a certain small person you know that we would Skype so she could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you. She’s been practicing all day.”

He didn’t move toward the table. “Thank you,” he said solemnly, unable to come up with words to tell her how much he appreciated this. Appreciated her.

“No.” She leaned up and give him a soft kiss. “Thank you. For being you.”

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #mywriting #for yas #because she is awesome #and we are lucky to have her #thank you for being you!

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ceescedasticity · 5 years

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i looked thru your writing babble tag and couldnt find it, do u have a link to the start again timeline? i get confused trying to figure out when everyones remembering relates to each other

Assuming that P5 takes place in 2016…

(Spoilers for everything posted so far…)

Late December 2013 –

Very beginning of Escher. Futaba starts getting a weird feeling of deja vu.

Yusuke wakes up remembering everything but isn’t sure it’s real.

Morgana also remembers at this point, though details have not been revealed.

January 2014 –

Futaba continues to feel deja vu.

Morgana leaves a warning note in the Isshiki mailbox.

Yusuke looks for Leblanc, but it isn’t there.

Goro starts having interrogation room dreams, usually about once a week.

Yusuke is dreaming of Madarame’s Palace almost every night. This doesn’t really stop.

Reserved-parking-place-related breakdown/rage fugue

February 2014 –

Goro cases the exterior of the Jikken Palace.

People are noticing Yusuke’s not sleeping well.

March 2014 –

Goro tips the police off about a drug dealer – why hasn’t been explained, but it may have been as a favor to Sasaki

Hitoshi has a manic episode.

April 2014 –

New school year! Probably April 7.

--Haru and Makoto start first year of high school at Shuujin

--Goro starts first year of high school at Jikken

--Yusuke starts third year of middle school

--Futaba starts second year of middle school

--Kiyomi starts third and final year of high school; Hitoshi starts second year of high school

--Hifumi starts third year of middle school

--Ryuji and Ann start third year of middle school at the same school, somewhere in Tokyo

--Akira starts third year of middle school somewhere outside Tokyo

Haru remembers; Count of Monte Cristo begins. Haru meets and befriends Makoto but verifies she does not remember anything.

I didn’t consult a calendar while writing COMC so I’m not 100% sure everything will line up.

Yusuke refuses the ‘life drawing’ proposal, starts painting Self-Portrait as a Cognition.

Haru tracks down Goro and blackmails him for Metaverse access.

The next day, shows Makoto Kamoshida’s Palace but doesn’t take her inside.

That Saturday, probably 4/19, Haru gets careless and runs into trouble in the castle, has to be rescued by Makoto and Goro.

Tuesday (4/22?): breakdown/rage fugue with the attacking people with shoes.

Thursday (4/24?), first joint trip into Jikken.

Goro’s interrogation room dreams turn into engine room dreams.

After the first joint trip to the space station (4/26?), Haru and Makoto get a look at Goro’s notebook, Goro hears about navigator abilities and recruiting personas.

Yeah I think I was thinking school started earlier in April than it probably did, the end of the month is getting a little rushed. Not completely implausible at least.

May 2014 –

Early in the month, Goro gets Defarge persona; his Akira dreams turn lucid.

Sometime this month, Yusuke makes sure exhibition tickets are sent to Kunikazu Okumura. One way or another Haru never sees them.

About 5/5?, Kunikazu announces Haru is engaged.

Almost a week later (5/10?), introduces Tomioka-san.

Little Palace activity in the next week. Makoto snoops around the volleyball team, Goro takes down Sasaki.

The weekend (5/17-5/18?) is rough.

Another week of little activity. Makoto breaks the starship log code and Goro scouts out Tomioka in Mementos.

Saturday (5/24?): rage fugue/breakdown for Tomioka

Sunday (5/25): Goro offers to prioritize the space station

June 2014 –

Futaba is subconsciously aware that Wakaba “will” have a mental shutdown, and very anxious.

Hitoshi/Kiyomi/Madarame start noticing there’s something kind of funny about Self-Portrait as a Cognition.

Haru, Makoto, and Goro secure a route to the Treasure, then wait a little longer to gather strength before sending the calling card

Kunikazu’s heart changed

July 2014 –

COMC crew focuses on studying and exams until the end of the term (probably about 7/20).

August 2014 –

Futaba is subconsciously aware that Wakaba “should” have had a mental shutdown. Deja vu turns into disorientation.

Madarame decides Self-Portrait as a Cognition is too creepy to plagiarize.

COMC crew reaches the top of the laboratory and the Treasure and Shadow aren’t there – now they have to go down.

Goro admits he’s not actually working for Shido.

September 2014 –

Self-Portrait as a Cognition is mostly complete.

9/1, school term starts.

9/8, Haru informs Goro he will be transferring.

9/15, Goro moves to Shuujin.

Unlike the original timeline, Kiyomi does not leave.

A politician who had a mental shutdown last timeline dies in a “car accident”.

October 2014 –

Hitoshi has a depressive episode.

Nakanohara leaves the atelier, roughly at the same time as he did last timeline.

November 2014 –

COMC crew reaches the Jikken Treasure, decides they need to scout.

11/8-11/9 – Cultural festival weekend:

--At Shuujin, there is a ‘syrup incident’, but otherwise uneventful.

--Makoto sees Kamoshida smarming at potential students.

--At Kosei, Yusuke runs into Ann, who doesn’t recognize him, and Hifumi, who he blurts out some information to.

--That evening, Yusuke and Hifumi fall through Self-Portrait as a Cognition (in front of Kiyomi) and return an hour later (in front of Hitoshi).

11/10 - Ryuji remembers, verifies that Ann does not

Yusuke starts visiting the museum Palace frequently. His sleep gets a lot better.

Wakaba’s lab succeeds in opening a portal into the Metaverse.

Futaba bugs Wakaba’s phone.

11/15 – COMC crew checks out the SIU Director’s Palace, Goro gets Medea.

11/16, Yusuke and Hifumi visit Mementos.

COMC crew defeats the Jikken Palace, changes Ishikawa’s heart.

11/29, Hifumi grounded after a fight with her mother over forfeiting a game.

11/30, Ryuji dyes his hair

December 2014 –

12/1, Ryuji mistakes a stray cat for Morgana. Ooops.

12/7, Yusuke and Hifumi visit a Palace at her middle school.

~12/15, Goro has the flu, tells Makoto his time travel theory.

Atelier water heater breaks, Madarame leaves for “retreat” (read: resort).

12/25, conspiracy tries to have Wakaba killed and fake an accidental overdose.

12/26, power in the atelier is cut off due to lack of payment. Futaba remembers everything after her uncle yells at her in the hospital. In the evening, runs into Yusuke. Yusuke & senpai go to stay at Isshiki apartment.

12/28, Futaba, Yusuke, and Hifumi go after Uncle Yoji in Mementos. On the way out pass Goro interrogating a Shadow (Ito) about judges, prosecutors, school sponsorship.

12/30, Futaba discovers Wakaba’s Palace.

12/31, Futaba, Yusuke, and Hifumi scout Wakaba’s Palace. Someone at the “spiritual retreat” sets fire to the buffet.

January 2015 –

Yusuke, Kiyomi, and Hitoshi return to the atelier. Sojiro moves into the Isshiki apartment but is mostly at the hospital.

First two weeks, Escher crew practices in the museum Palace, make tools, gather supplies.

Make it up the outside of the pyramid in one go.

Hifumi stops competing formally for the year, has another fight with her mother.

Another Palace trip: top of the pyramid to Hedonistic Braggart

Another trip: Solve the puzzle to clear the way up

1/17-1/19, university entrance exams

Another trip: up through the adyton, have to run from the Hundred-Armed Slave.

Yusuke contacts Dr. Takemi, Hifumi starts sneaking out with a rope ladder.

~1/22, beat the Hundred-Armed Slave, clear the crawlspace.

At least one Palace trip just getting money. Sojiro is alienating the nurses.

First trip into the pagoda section: have to run from Cognitive Sojiro.

Second pagoda trip: run from Shadows.

A few days of downtime before pagoda Attempt 3.

Attempt 4 on the pagoda – end up at the top of the temple, confront Asherah.

Next day (Sunday, probably 2/1), Wakaba wakes up.

February 2015 –

~2/6, Futaba remembers to look into Okumura Foods

Escher & COMC crews meet up

[some other stuff is going on with Escher&COMC crews after this but it hasn’t been revealed]

April 2015—

April 6 — new school year

April 11 — “interview” dumps Ryuji & co in Metaverse

April 13 — Ryuji & co return from Metaverse a little after midnight. Weapon shopping in the evening.

#fleecy #start again fic #writing babble

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crescentmoonrider · 5 years

Text

some details from my recent comic (mostly environment)

also, stuff that hit the cutting room floor and isn’t present in the actual thing

[link to the comic, it’s 5 pages of kekkai sensen noir AU]

so, as some might have noticed (and as i said in the tags of the comic i think), i paid A Lot of attention to the details and environments in this comic. so i thought i’d explain some of the stuff i had in mind while drawing

surprisingly, i have nothing of importance to say about the brick wall (on page 1) i spent over 5 hours on - aside from it being bricks bc, well, new york, man

or, as the artistic director for the bbb anime Kimura Shinji said : “the most emblematic buildings in new york are from the time when art déco was “in”” and “the image of the 70s new york was the one that satisfied me most [in terms of mood]”

(ive got loads of interviews with the anime staff that came with the dvds i bought, though in french, but if anyone is interested i could translate some of them)

anyway that’s what i looked up for reference. 70s streets, emblematic new york architecture (meaning bricks and side stairs or whatever these things are called), some noir movies back alleys to fit the theme of the AU, and four new york taxi photos for a result that is

... yeah

details i do have loads to talk about though !

this poster (on page 2) is based on an actual ad for the city of new york, featuring the empire state building

so why did i choose to put this element in daniel’s office ? obviously, the setting is hellsalem’s lot right ? why keep an ad of a city that basically doesn’t exist anymore - plus, what kind of person keeps an ad of their own city ?

(also, side note, is- is the huge building that we see tumbling down at the start of the Collapse in the anime. is it the empire state ?? did the empire state get scraped from new york/hellsalem’s horizon right as Mr. Kimura said he based his backgrounds on this kind of architecture ?)

anyway, this poster was my way of slowly building up the... let’s say static state daniel is in, in this AU. page 3 mentions “The constant numbness that’s been following [him] for the past three years.” and that was my attempt at introducing this idea environmentally

this daniel refuses to move past the disappearance of marcus, refuses to accept it, and that form of denial kind of leads him to get. stuck in place - or maybe stuck in time, leading me to

this glass of water (page 2 still)

how long has this glass been sitting here ? who knows. a while, certainly, if the way it’s sweating is any indication

how long has daniel been standing looking at nothing through that window, stuck inside his thoughts, until reality calls him back whenever a client walks in ?

how many times has it happened ?

on the same desk, we have... quite a few pictures

(yes i put effort into this detail explanation, yes i redrew the pictures for this one)

(also i realize i put the pencil on the left side out of habit, so i guess daniel is now left-handed. ooops ?)

on the center of the desk, we can see... Leonardo Watch ? yup, that’s him, he has a file dedicated to him, and daniel apparently followed him around enough to get 4 pictures taken on various occasions, and one mugshot he got.... somewhere

daniel is, in fact, not working on a case relating to leo. officially. alright, so, i haven’t figured out the way everything fits together, but daniel’s search into his brother’s disappearance lead him places, among which research into Things You Can’t See, and as such, the eyes of the gods

pictures 1-3 are just leo in various situations (meeting up with nej, eating at diane’s dinner, waiting for his train)

picture 4 shows leo on a bench, obviously interacting with.... someone ? who cannot be seen. even though leo clearly has his arm over their. shoulder, probably. daniel annotated the picture by hand, circling the empty space at leo’s side, and adding the commentary “doesn’t appear on photos?”, indicating that whoever was there could, in fact, be seen by human eyes

(leo, what the fuck kind of friends are you making in this AU)

on the right side of the desk, literally put aside, is a file full of daniel’s official work. and a picture related to his most current case

not explicit, or even implicit, but probably a fun fact, this one file is just. a collection of investigations into one Zapp Renfro’s many affairs, each investigation related to a different case

i’m not saying zapp keeps daniel fed through his many infidelities, but i’m not not saying it either

if they ever actually meet, daniel is either going to shout at zapp forever for being a garbage person, or he will thank him for all the easy work. or he might do both

so how did daniel take these pictures ? did he use a portable camera, like any old-fashioned detective would ? or did he go the modern way, and simply used his phone ?

the answer is neither

welcome to “i couldn’t fit this in the comic so just take it”, featuring daniel’s left eye ! my headcanons for his canon self vary from day to day (and also whether we’re talking manga or anime, since his design slightly differs), but in this AU, we’re going with a huge scar and an artificial eye

the eye is a product of beyondian technology. pure tech, no magic involved. it works as a covert camera, but mainly serves as, you know, an eye

sometimes daniel sees people with his right eye that the left one seems blind to, and something tells him he should probably not ask about it if he can avoid it

next page !

those who saw me post my progress in real time already know this one, but i still can’t get over the fact that i put research into a single shot of a small part of a watch. but i did

anyway the watch is an actual existing one. it’s a Boucheron “Epure”, steel with a white quadrant, and a black gator bracelet. you can look it up

and now we get to the One thing i really, really wanted to put in the comic, but had to refrain myself out of a desire to keep things not too cliché. i mean, shady client comes in, detective thinks to himself “the moment i saw him, i knew he was trouble” while dragging on his cigarette...

look, steven is heavily femme fatale (homme fatal ?) coded already, and is trying to look decent and Not like he murdered someone/is planning on murdering someone, because that’s precisely the problem he needs daniel’s help with. murder accusations

anyway he can not decently show up in a fur coat looking like some mafia boss

but BOY do i wish he would

#kekkai sensen #blood blockade battlefront #daniel law #steven a starphase #bbb noir AU #yumi's art #long post #so i guess i just exposed myself as That arrogant artist who cant shut up about how much they thought about their work eh #look its the first time i put this much effort into the details and environment of a comic #or even an illustration. hell i rarely do backgrounds at all really #so i kind of just want to ramble forever about this one #(maybe this way i wont have to think about whatever ill do next)#uh yeah also im sorry for not putting this under a read more i just couldnt figure out a good place to cut it

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stuffandnosense · 6 years

Text

Back To You - Chpt 3

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2

A continuation of a Plangst prompt fill from @hailqiqi that got out of hand. Ooops.

Description: Post A/L breakup after season 7, Pidge and Lance are JUST starting to, maybe, figure something out. But then a mission gone wrong leaves Pidge unable to feel emotions, unable to act on the feelings they were barely sure they had, and the condition may or may not be permanent.

Now

Emotional hangover headaches are definitely a thing. Lance wakes the next morning with the worst one he’s had in a long time.

He feels cold and clammy as he stumbles out of bed and into the small shower down the hall, and he groans quietly to himself when a soft beeping from a panel in the stall tells him his time is up. The Atlas can only carry so much water, after all. It may have turned out to be somewhat magical itself, but it’s not the same as the castle. She has her limits.

The water cuts off, and Lance lets his head thunk against metal wall, trying to figure out if the last day or two really happened.

When he returns to his room he’s tempted to crawl back into bed now that he’s clean; it seems to take too much energy just to get his uniform on. At least it’s not that awful orange anymore.

It feels like dragging his feet to make it to the cafeteria though, and no one he really knows is there. It’s an odd time; too late for breakfast for most of the crew, and he should have been up far earlier. He wonders why no one woke him. Technically they have shifts, duties...his should have started two vargas ago and he hasn’t heard a word. Maybe they’re leaving him alone on purpose. It’s all a little more loose for the paladins anyway.

Well...fine. Lance chokes down a few bites before his throat refuses to swallow anymore.

But what now? They won’t reach the next planet for a couple of days, and...he can’t do anything else. He can’t help Pidge. He can’t...think.

He should find her, though. He doesn’t want her to look back if--when--they find a way to cure her, and think he didn’t care enough to be there for her. He does want to, it just…

His chest aches, but he tells himself to ignore it.

Pidge isn’t in her lab when he looks for her, which doesn’t make sense after yesterday. She seemed so focused on work. He checks the infirmary, Sam’s lab, her quarters--even the bridge, where Shiro gives him one of those concerned looks--but no Pidge.

He doesn’t expect to find her, finally, in the lion hangar, staring up at Green. She doesn’t look troubled, of course she doesn’t, but something still feels odd as he approaches.

“Pidge…?”

Lance stops a few feet shy of her when he realizes what it is.

Pidge is standing right here, but Green’s barrier is still up.

“Pidge?” he asks again. He can hear the urgency in his voice, but she doesn’t react to it. She doesn’t look his way, either.

“Green isn’t responding to me,” she says. “I suppose I should have expected it; after all, even though she is a more logical personality, the bonds with the lions are still very emotional in nature. And my side of that equation isn’t possible right now.”

Lance swallows. “I-it’s okay. We’ll figure out how to fix this. You’ll be back in your lion in no time.”

Pidge shrugs. “There’s no need to make promises you may not be able to keep, Lance.”

“I’m not—I mean…”

“It’s all right, it’s habit for you. You try to reassure people. There’s merit in it at times, certainly, but I don’t need it. Not now, anyway.”

Lance blinks. She did that yesterday—throwing out an overarching observation about him like that. Like they were things she thought about all the time, but never said. Not until now, without emotions like timidity or embarrassment to keep her from just saying them.

It doesn’t escape him that even now, she’d framed them as good things--or not bad things, anyway. Both times. But why would she have been thinking about them before? Why did those things matter to her?

But...if he really tries to think about why, it’s only going to hurt more. He knows it will. Best to save that until Pidge is herself again.

He closes the distance between them to place a tentative hand on her shoulder. She looks at him, finally, when he does it, but where the Pidge he knew from two days ago would surely have been upset about not being able to reach her lion...there’s nothing now. And he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to that. He hopes more than anything he won’t have to.

“You don’t mind if I say stuff like that anyway, do you? It may not do anything for you right now, but, you know...it still helps the rest of us.”

Pidge doesn’t bat an eye. “Of course.”

“Thanks…” He lets his hand drop back to his side. “Pidge, you…? You do want us to fix it, right?”

She raises an eyebrow at him, and if he didn’t feel like his stomach was in a meat grinder he might enjoy how cute she looks doing it. It’s very Spock.

But even Spock actually had emotions under there somewhere.

“I don’t have a personal preference,” she tells him. “On one hand, even with less than twenty-four hours of data to draw from I can estimate staying with way would leave me personally more efficient, but on the other I’m aware it wouldn’t be ideal for the team. All of you will be far too focused on the issue to be as efficient as you could be in other areas until this is resolved.”

Lance smirks, but he’s pretty sure it comes out tired. “Are you accusing us of being unprofessional?”

“No. Merely human.”

“I see…”

“In any case, the situation is certainly not ideal now that it seems it might be necessary to find a new paladin before forming Voltron would be possible again.”

“We won’t have to do that,” Lance says quickly.

“I know it would be preferable not to have to go to the trouble.”

Lance opens his mouth again to tell her that isn’t why he’s so adamant at all, but he thinks a part of her knows. She may not be feeling emotions herself, but either she’s always been good at analyzing the rest of them and she’s only now able to voice those observations, or not having her own emotions in the way has made her even better at it.

Or both.

“Anyway,” he sighs. “So if we find a way, you’ll let us try?”

“Yes.”

***

“Lance, are you sure about this?” Veronica asks again.

“Does it necessarily have to be you?” Sam questions. “I’d be happy to let Allura rummage around in my brain, too.”

Veronica crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “Or mine.”

Allura settles beside Lance on the edge of the infirmary bed he’s perched on. “As much as I appreciate your offers, your brains are older and fully developed. Lance and Hunk are really the only two humans on board young enough to have brains that are still developing the way Pidge’s should be. If I’m going to gain an understanding of what a human brain in later adolescence should feel like, and how it should operate, it has to be one of them, I’m afraid.”

Sam sighs. “I know that. I should know that.” His eyes close briefly, and Lance reaches out to touch his sleeve.

“It’ll be fine,” he says, both to Sam and his sister. “I trust Allura.”

But Allura ia already making a face when he turns back to her.

“What?”

“You...you should be sure, Lance. This may not be...easy. This is so much more complicated than transferring a consciousness from a lion that was willing to help me to an unconscious body, or relatively simple physical healing or energy manipulation in comparison. This is testing the limits of what I learned in Oriande, if it is even possible.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Allura.”

“...I might.”

He swallows and takes her hands. He knew that. She’d already tried to warn him once, when she asked that they do this here just in case. A doctor is standing by.

“That’s okay too. We have to do this. It isn’t even a question for me.”

“Lance,” Veronica says sharply. He already knew this was dangerous but she didn’t; not until now. He hadn’t wanted to give her the opportunity to try to talk him out of it any sooner.

“It’s my decision, okay?”

“What about the rest of your team? What do they think?”

Lance smiles a little. “Where do you think they are? They’re keeping Pidge distracted.” Hunk even tried to offer to do it himself, but Lance wasn’t having any of it.

After leaving the hangar this morning he came straight to Allura to see how she doing on a plan. It looked like she and Coran had been up all night trying to decide the best course of action. That was when she told him she needed his help.

“Of course,” he told her then. “Anything you need. Just get some rest first?”

Veronica seems to understand now, but she’s still grumbling. “I just don’t like to see you put yourself in danger.”

She went there. Of course she did. Lance sees the opportunity and takes it. “That’s very sweet, but knock it off.”

She snorts. “Fine. Guess I walked right into that one.”

“You really did. Anyway...I’m ready if you are, Allura.”

She lets out a breath. “I am as ready as I can be.”

They turn to face each other on the edge of the infirmary bed, and Allura places her hands on either side of his face, fingertips at his temples. When she closes her eyes Lance does too. It doesn’t really matter, he supposes, but it seems like the right thing to do. Maybe he should be trying to...focus, or whatever. Help. Somehow.

He can feel the warmth of Allura’s energy on his skin; the blue glow seeps through his eyelids. He wonders if this is what he would have felt if he’d been awake when she used her alchemy to save him before.

But he only wonders for a moment. He doesn’t like to dwell on that day.

Allura’s fingers shift against his face. “Lance...it’s all right. I need you to relax your mind, if you can.”

He frowns, eyes still closed. “What do you mean? I thought I was?”

“You...hmm. You may not be conscious of it. But we can come back to that; I have the physical aspects of your brain to familiarize myself with first.”

“Okay…”

Lance opens his eyes briefly to see Allura’s still closed--her brow furrowed in that way she has when she concentrates. Not unlike the way Pidge looks when she does. Something in his chest warms and…

How can he love both of them so much? When did that even happen? And when did the differences...change? A year ago, sitting this close to Allura, watching her face like this...even two months ago...he would have been blushing. Or something. Now all he wants is to protect her. He wants her to be happy.

The feelings for Allura, he’s beginning to realize, have become no different, really, than what he feels for Veronica, or Rachel. Maybe they were different once, but it doesn’t matter now. He wouldn’t trade the friendship he has with Allura now for anything.

Veronica tilts her head at him when he glances at her.

What? he mouths. She just shrugs. He’ll ask her later.

Lance turns back to Allura, all of them quiet as she focuses, and for a while there is comfortable silence. A faint ache pushes into Lance’s head, radiating from his temples, but surely that’s expected with someone probing around in his brain with strong energy. He can almost feel it--like tingling fingers exploring the inside of his head. Taking in how his synapses are put together.

“Are you all right?” Allura asks.

“Yeah, it’s just kind of...weird, I guess.”

“I suppose it is; you may be experiencing some discomfort, but please tell me immediately if it gets any worse. I don’t want to harm you.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

But the dull ache is all there is. No worse than the headache he woke up with this morning, really.

Until it is.

Allura warns him. She lets him know she has enough information about his brain physically--that she’s going to try to enter his mind again. She warned him before, too. When she first asked for his help.

“It may be...awkward. For us. Just...due to recent events. Perhaps I should ask Hunk.”

“He’d do it, but no, it’s okay, really; I want to do this, Allura.”

Lance thinks he’s ready for that. He thinks he’s ready to open his mind her. He wants to, but he can feel her running into a wall he never meant to put up anyway.

And it hurts.

He hears himself shouting. Allura gasps and starts to withdraw but he catches her wrists and holds her hands where they are on his head.

“N-No, what are you doing! Keep going!”

“Lance, I am hurting you; your mind is reacting to the intrusion.”

“So tell it to shut up,” he gasps. “Or...or something.”

“Lance…!” Veronica’s voice. He ignores it. A hand is at his back now; maybe Sam?

“Allura, y-you have find a way around this or you can’t help Pidge; what if her mind does the same thing? Please...come...come on...just…” It’s hard to pry his eyes open again, but he has to look at her. Hers are open now. Alarmed. He has to let her know it’s okay. “Please.”

Allura swallows, but she adjusts her grip and leans in again.

Lance lets his hands fall, and someone takes one of them. Veronica. He doesn’t having any qualms with squeezing hers as his head screams at him. His chest heaves and he knows there are tears on his face, but it doesn’t matter. He can do this. He has to do this…

I’m so sorry, Lance, are you all right? Allura’s voice, as the pain finally begins to fade. But she isn’t speaking aloud.

I...I guess so? Are you in my head now? The feeling of an affirmative answers him more than words. What happened?

It’s difficult to explain. I’m sorry I hurt you.

This is worth it. Besides...it wasn’t really you hurting me, was it?

In a sense, no...but in any case. I can bypass a response like that in future, I think. With anyone.

Good.

I still need to get a feel for a human emotional landscape, but perhaps we should wait. You should rest. And we should examine you to be sure no damage was done.

Lance frowns. But I’m okay…

Please? For me, Lance. Let’s be certain.

He sighs aloud. “Okay.”

Allura withdraws her hands, and when he opens his eyes the pain has faded to a harsh ache. He sways, dizzy, and the hand at his back moves in around his shoulder.

“You okay, son?”

Lance clears his throat. “I um...yeah, Sam, thanks. I just…” He swipes at his face to dry the tears and realizes his hands are trembling. He scowls at them, and Veronica is already calling for the doctor, but in the end they don’t find anything wrong. Not really.

“I told you I was fine,” he tells Allura. He’s trying to tease--to make her feel better--but the smile she gives him in return is weak.

“I’d still like to keep you tonight,” the doctor cuts in. “You’re still in some pain, and we’re not sure why; it would be better to keep an eye on you.”

“It’s just a headache,” Lance grumbles.

“That you got from letting your alien friend mess around in your brain,” Veronica retorts.

“Hey, this is not Allura’s fault—”

“I didn’t say it was; I’m just stating facts…”

Allura squeezes his shoulder. “The doctor is right, Lance; it would be better to be sure. I would feel better if you stayed. I’ll stay with you, if you like.”

Lance chuckles quietly. “That’s okay. I mean you can if you want to, but it’s fine; I’ll stay.”

***

A new weight on the edge of the bed rouses Lance from sleep, waking him in the kind of sudden way that makes him sit up with a gasp. His head pounds out its protest, but at least it doesn’t hurt as much as it did before the doctor had to give him a sedative to help him actually get to sleep.

A small figure shifts in the dimness of the infirmary. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Lance rubs at his temples, wincing. “Pidge? What are you doing here?” When he finds a clock in the dark, he realizes it’s the middle of the night. “It’s late.”

“Hunk finally told me what you’d been doing--where you disappeared to. What you were doing you were doing for my benefit, so it seemed customary to check on you.”

He snorts quietly. “In the middle of the night?”

“I was working.”

“Yeah, well...thanks. I guess.” He can’t find it in himself to frustrated with her.

“It wasn’t necessary to put yourself in danger.”

“Now you sound like Veronica.”

Pidge just blinks at him. “It isn’t reasonable to risk having two paladins out of commission when one is already unable to fly.”

Lance let out a quiet breath and leans forward. “In this case, it is to me,” he answers. “You need to know that.”

“Why?”

“Because I hope you’ll remember that when you’re back to normal.”

“I meant why is it reasonable to you?”

“I…” Lance hesitates. “I don’t think I should explain it right now.”

Silence, for a moment. “You want to wait to tell me until I’m myself again.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah...I guess.”

“What if we’re unable to find a solution, and I stay this way?”

“You won’t.”

Why does she keep asking those questions? He knows they won’t bother her right now, but she’s also said she still...understands, somehow, what the rest of them are going through. In an objective sort of way. If she knows it will hurt him to ask why does she ask?

But she raises an eyebrow at him like she did this morning, and she does it again. “But if I did?”

He stares at her longer this time. She’s looking at him with those eyes he’s always been sure could see right through him and…

Something in his gut twists, and he knows what she’s doing.

She’s trying to make him think about it. She’s trying to prepare him for the worst.

Without emotions she may only be doing it because she knows it will be better for the workings of the team if they’re all prepared, but…

There has to be part of her that’s doing it for him. He has to believe that.

“Pidge…”

His eyes drift shut. He can hear her laughing in his memory and he’s not ready to let it go.

“We’re not giving up, okay? I’m not. If…” His throat clogs briefly, and he has to swallow a few times to clear it. “I-If it comes to that I’ll deal with it then.”

Please don’t ask me to let you go before I have to.

Read Chpt 4 >>

** Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear what you think! **

#plance #plangst #vld fanfic #langst #angst #vld lance #vld pidge #vld allura #voltron legendary defender #prompt fill

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