#i'm trying to fix that this year lol
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I couldn’t help but want to draw them. I love these designs so much <3
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#sakura haruno#ino yamanaka#hinata hyuga#hinata hyuuga#tenten#shinobi sisters#kunoichi#naruto#naruto shipudden#i have a bad habit of not posting my art here#i'm trying to fix that this year lol#my art
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oouugghhh hannigram either 7 or 45. maybe even combine the two.
ok so it has been. a while. this one got, uh, more than a little out of control lmao (almost 3500 words holy fuck). but it's finally finished! i'm not sure if it exactly fits the prompts anymore but i tried to combine them both :) i hope you like it! (even if it did just end up as yet another mizumono fic lol oops)
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"You were supposed to leave," Will hisses, and his voice is a devastated, furious thing.
There is blood soaking into his shoes and the scent of iron hangs heavy in the air, and the worst part is that Will doesn't even know whose blood it is anymore, but the question is lost to the back of his mind. Because in front of him stands a dishevelled man whose shirt is a mess of shiny red stains, a knife dripping in his hand.
A man who isn’t supposed to be there at all.
"I didn't want to leave without seeing you one last time," Hannibal says. The words one last time should be ringing alarm bells in Will's head, but he can’t hear them over the overwhelming chorus of thousands of other alarms, because everything is going wrong. There is blood on the floor and on the walls and Alana and Jack lie dying among shards of glass, and there is a SWAT team likely only minutes away, and yet Hannibal is still here.
They both are.
And now Will doesn’t know what to do, hasn’t known what to do for the last 3 months and hadn’t known what he’d do next when he’d made that phone call, telling the Chesapeake Ripper that they know. All he’d known was that he didn’t want Hannibal to die, didn’t want him locked up in a cage by his own hands. But here he is, faced with the consequences of his own actions, and once again Will doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to feel, or even what he is feeling beyond the adrenaline and desperation and horror and relief and confusion. He doesn’t want to feel the overwhelming guilt and sense of responsibility that has been steadily building behind his ribs since this whole scheme began. Yet that guilt now tears at the lining of his chest and crushes his lungs and holds his throat in a chokehold, and it’s just all too much and all he can think is none of this was supposed to happen and this is all my fault and what if?
Seeing Hannibal alive, he’d been struck by a sudden wave of relief that had almost caused his knees to give out beneath him. But now, as Hannibal’s eyes meet his, the awful look that greets him makes a pit suddenly form in his stomach, and the relief gives way to guilt again. And Will can’t take it.
None of this was supposed to happen.
This is all my fault.
What if?
And then it hits him: none of this was supposed to happen. And it hadn’t needed to. This awful mess of glass and blood and ruin could have all been avoided if Hannibal had just listened. If he’d trusted Will when he’d picked up the phone with shaky fingers and told him to run. But he hadn't. And this realisation comes with a sick sense of understanding, because for the whole time Will had known him, Hannibal had always had to have something hidden up his sleeve, always had to keep secrets from Will. Always had to know better. Feel superior. At last the final veil falls from Will's eyes, and all at once he can see how foolish he'd been to ever believe that they could be equals. How pathetic it was that, for those few long weeks they'd spent together, he'd actually believed that they were.
(Will fiercely forces back the voice in his head that whispers that he hadn’t exactly given Hannibal a reason to trust him.)
Heart hammering against his ribs, all of that guilt and fear melts together and stretches and twists and is reborn as deep, righteous anger.
Because no, all he’d wanted was for Hannibal to be safe and free and far from here, even if it meant Hannibal hated him, even if it meant they could never be together, even if it meant that one day Hannibal would come back and rip his still-beating heart from his chest without remorse. But instead here they are, highly armed police likely mere minutes out. And all because Hannibal hadn’t listened. Bitterly, Will thinks to himself that maybe he couldn’t change Hannibal in this way after all.
As if hearing the war cry of bitterness and anger, the resentment he’d kept locked away over the last year begins to bay and claw at its cage too, and, with no reason left to hold it back, Will finally opens the latch and lets it loose.
His next words come out as a growl. “Well now neither of us might get to leave at all”.
Hannibal looks at him, and before he can hide any emotion behind his mask Will can see surprise and deep betrayal warring behind his eyes. It should make him stop and consider, that surprise - that indication that he is behaving in a way that Hannibal did not quite anticipate. But the look of betrayal is like a knife to his chest, and so Will grips his resentment tightly and fumes.
What had Hannibal expected? For Will to be small, desperate? Cowering? Begging for forgiveness? His lip curls in derision. As if he would give him the satisfaction. No, mongooses have teeth and claws, and may whatever god he believes in help Hannibal if he thinks Will won’t use them.
Hannibal manages to force the emotion all behind a mask of icy indifference, and now when he looks at Will his gaze is blank. Though it is not his usual blankness which Will has become familiar with. It is an empty, unsettling kind of blank, the sort of blank he’s only ever seen in the eye of a shark. When Hannibal speaks his voice is cold, colder than Will has ever heard it.
"Forgive me for having doubts about the sincerity of your warning when you've been lying to me for the last month. Forgive me for wanting to see the truth of where your loyalties lie."
The acknowledgement is agony. All the guilt Will had been trying to force down suddenly rears its monstrous head again, and he finds his voice suddenly drying up. His throat feels tight.
He whispers. "My loyalties lie with you'
Hannibal only scoffs. It is ugly. Will has never seen Hannibal ugly before.
"A last minute change of heart is hardly loyalty, Will," he says. “What does Uncle Jack think of your loyalty, lying bleeding out in my pantry? Alana, shattered on the street? How can I be sure you do not still intend for me to join them?”
Hannibal takes a step towards him, adjusting his grip on the knife. Will’s heart pounds. He forces himself not to take a step back.
“Because I chose you, Hannibal, I was always going to choose you, I just needed time to accept that.”
But Hannibal just looks away. “If that is what you truly believe, then you haven't just been lying to me, you've also been lying to yourself.”
It’s so wrong, yet Hannibal had said it with such certainty and disdain that all Will sees is the arrogance with which Hannibal always assumes himself to be right. He dares to presume to know what Will is thinking better than Will knows himself? It turns out Hannibal Lecter really is just like every other psychiatrist Will has ever met, and a sense of grief rises up within him at the loss of something he’d never thought he could have until meeting Hannibal.
He hates himself for mourning what he shouldn’t want.
Will smothers the voice in his head whispering that Hannibal may in fact be correct, that he really does know Will's mind better than Will does his own. Instead he lets anger take over again, and this time it burns.
“You know nothing,” he hisses. His hands shake. Deep waves of indignant resentment roll over him, the roaring of the waves matching the blood in his ears.
He doesn’t know what he expects Hannibal to do next, but it isn’t for Hannibal to hum to himself, then huff a mirthless laugh and concede in a tone both melancholy and angry, “Perhaps you’re right.”
Once again Hannibal meets his eyes. “You know, I've never fully been able to predict you, Will, but this time I had hoped. It is a mistake I will not make again.”
He prowls closer still, and this time Will steps forward to meet him. Fight has won over flight and as the rising fury makes it hard to find words Will’s body seems to have decided to speak for him. The ticking clock of the impending arrival of the FBI ignored in favour of the burning, all-consuming rage within him.
But the fear of their time running out is still there, forced down as it is, and between that and the anger it’s only getting harder to think, and Hannibal is only making it worse. Every word that leaves his mouth brings fresh waves of intense emotion and it’s rapidly reducing Will to a state where there is nothing in his brain except pure animalistic rage-fear.
He just needs Hannibal to stop talking for one moment so he can think.
With what little coherent thought remains in his brain, Will decides to tell Hannibal in the only way he can manage anymore.
“For once in your life can you please just shut the fuck up”.
Hannibal's eyes flash dangerously. His lips curl up into a snarl, and the part of Will that still understands anything knows that he’s made a mistake - he’s only succeeded in confirming for Hannibal exactly how his words are affecting him, and getting him to stop now won’t be achieved without consequences.
Hannibal is quick to recover, a cruel grin taking over his face. His head tilts condescendingly. “Terribly rude, Will,’ he taunts.
The fire inside Will soars higher. He can feel it scorching his insides.
“Fuck you, Hannibal.” He spits.
Hannibal begins to loom over him, moving closer still in a manner that can only be called predatory, until all that separates them is an arm’s length. The knife still glistens in his hand.
“Is that all you have to say for yourself, Will? Childish comebacks? I’ve come to expect better from you. I'm disappointed.” There is a gleam of self-satisfied malice in his eyes and the shape of his lips. He looks dangerous. He looks beautiful.
Will hates him.
Will loves him.
Fuckyoufuckyoufuck-
And suddenly Will can’t take it any longer.
Before he knows what he is doing, he’s grabbing Hannibal by the bloody shirt and crashing his lips into his.
Time seems to stop, the world narrowing into a millisecond of time in which Hannibal’s hair brushes against Will’s forehead, breath warm against his mouth, their noses pressed almost painfully against each other. A moment where the cooling blood on Hannibal’s shirt soaks into Will’s palms and stains his fingers red. A moment where Hannibal stands deadly still, as if frozen, and Will feels as if he’s been frozen too.
There is a distant pressure in the corner of Will’s abdomen, then the vague sound of something clattering to the ground. But Will’s lips are on Hannibal’s and it is as if everything everywhere is inconsequential other than the feeling of Hannibal’s teeth against his, just as he’d imagined on so many a lonely night.
The moment seems to last an eternity before Hannibal’s hand finally comes up to grasp the back of his shirt tightly, and Will feels the sharp pull of the fabric against his skin, the pressure of Hannibal’s knuckles firm against his flank. A breathy gasp escapes his burning lips, and he can’t help the animal noise that subsequently tears its way from his throat. Luckily it seems that is what it takes for Hannibal to finally move his mouth and kiss back with equal force, teeth scraping sharply against Will’s. They gravitate closer and closer until Will’s arm is wrapped around Hannibal’s neck and their hips are pressed tightly together.
Eventually, Hannibal lets out a deep growl before he at last pulls away, dragging Will backwards until there is an arm’s distance between them. Will’s eyes flutter open and he gazes up at Hannibal. The adrenaline is still coursing through his veins and setting him alight, but this time it is not with anger but something wholly new.
As they lock eyes, Will realises that Hannibal is finally allowing Will to see, without barriers or veils, the full breadth of emotion in his eyes. There is still frustration and betrayal, yes (indeed, Will hadn’t let go of his either) but there is also - and Will’s heart skips a beat when he recognises it - pure and all-encompassing adoration. A wonderful warmth blossoms within his core, rendering him both weak and solid and light as a feather, and it is unlike anything Will can ever remember feeling.
He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.
Then those wonderful, expressive maroon eyes flicker downwards, and Hannibal’s brow furrows, lines around his eyes deepening. Confused, Will follows his gaze, and is surprised to see a growing deep red stain on his shirt, though any reaction he distantly thinks he perhaps should be having is dulled and seems to float just out of reach. It’s strange; there isn’t any pain, just the memory of an odd pressure that he’d ignored at the time and a peculiar sense of unreality.
For a moment he just stands, uncomprehending, but as the adrenaline finally starts to wear off he becomes increasingly aware of a dull ache at the site of the wound, and it isn’t long before that dull ache blossoms into a terrible burning pain. Hand instinctively falling from Hannibal’s shoulder to hover protectively over the wound, Will looks back up at Hannibal, a mix of confusion, surprise, pain and betrayal written across his face. An involuntary whine slips from his suddenly dry throat.
The vocalisation appears to spur Hannibal into action. He takes Will gently but firmly by the arms and quickly guides him to a nearby sofa, helping him lay down across its seats before sinking to his knees beside him and pulling up his shirt to inspect the injury. A moment passes, then a near-imperceptible line of tension seems to drop slightly from Hannibal’s shoulders and he pulls Will’s shirt back down.
“It is as I thought: due to the angle and the quick loosening of my grip on the handle, only the tip of my knife entered your body. The wound is not so deep as to require immediate attention, but it will certainly require stitches.”
He guides Will’s hand back to his injury and helps him to apply the right amount of pressure. It hurts, and when Will winces and lets out small pained noise, Hannibal brings a hand to his hair and cards it through the damp curls. It feels nice, it feels so very nice and right, and Will’s eyes slip closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling. When he opens them, Hannibal is looking down at him, face once again carefully blank.
“There is likely very little time left before the FBI arrives,” he begins, “and I will soon be leaving for Florence. I will offer you this once and only once, and you will have until I return with our passports and a select few other items to make your decision.”
He fixes Will with a heavy look. “One last chance, Will. You can come with me to Florence, and I will show you the city where I became a man. We will leave immediately, take up new identities, and likely never return.
“Or, I can leave you here. You can wait for the cops to arrive and take you to a hospital. Your reputation will remain intact, and you can go back to your job and your house in the woods, your life as you know it, and you will never see me again.”
An almost undetectable pause, and then, “This is your final decision, Will. I suggest you make it wisely.”
With this he climbs to his feet and leaves the room
For a while Will sits thinking, but deep down he knows his mind is already made up. The myriad of complicated feelings he harbours towards Hannibal still plague him, and a part of him still wants to lock the man up and throw away the key, but he’s finally willing to admit that it’s all inconsequential. He knows now he can't live without Hannibal, for better or for worse, whether he loves him or hates him, or a twisted mix of both. He’ll miss his life terribly for the isolated comfort it brought, but he’d miss Hannibal far, far more.
There is only one choice to make.
The moment Hannibal reappears in the doorway Will is speaking.
“I want to come with you.”
Hannibal’s face remains carefully blank. “You understand there is no going back from this. I will not change my lifestyle and you can never return to the false life you have led. You will be shedding your sheepskin for good this time, and the world will be on our tail for as long as we-”
Will cuts him off.
“I want to come with you,” he repeats firmly.
A long pause, and then a small but genuine smile graces Hannibal's lips. With a dip of his head, he seems to accept the decision. “Very well,” he says, though Will can hear the unspoken relief that lies beneath it. He lets himself smile back, tired but overjoyed and honest. It feels right.
Hannibal comes back to where he lies on the couch, and helps him get up, his touch firm yet gentle as he holds Will against his side.
“Do you think you can walk?” he asks.
Will’s breath catches as the shift to being upright pulls sharply on his wound. While it could have been far deeper - and Will doesn’t want to imagine what Hannibal’s initial plan for him was - it is still painful, and increasingly so as the last of the adrenaline wears off. Plus, he’s losing a fair amount of blood, and the change in angle temporarily darkens his vision and sends stars dancing across his eyes. Grimacing, he closes his eyes and waits for the pounding in his head to stop. Hannibal lets him lean against him, steadfastly taking his weight, and says nothing.
When the stars fade and he feels steadier on his feet, Will considers Hannibal’s question, and after a moment of assessment nods - he’s been shot in the shoulder before, he can handle this - and lets Hannibal lead him out of the house and down the street to an unfamiliar car.
Alana is unconscious now, and Will catches Hannibal’s eyes lingering on his jacket where it lies over her body. He looks at her, the person he’d once imagined sharing a life with, and thinks of how important she had always been to him, even after everything. A pang of bittersweet nostalgia hits him, accompanied by a longing for a simpler time when maybe it could have been possible. But ultimately he allows Hannibal to help him into the passenger seat of the car. This is the life he’s chosen, the person he’s chosen, cannibalism and all. There is no going back now, and nothing to be gained from contemplating what ifs.
Then the car door closes, and Alana is hidden from sight.
There is another noise as Hannibal gets in the car from the other side, and after fiddling with some dials and buttons, he starts the engine.
“I will drive us to the airport where our flight awaits. When we are a safe distance from the house we will stop and I will clean and suture your wound. But for now I suggest you sleep - you will need the rest if you are to recover well.”
He must notice the lines of discomfort on Will’s face, as he adds, softening slightly, “There are some painkillers in the door.”
After taking the pills as directed, Will lays his head back against the headrest and allows his eyes to close. The last of the adrenaline has left his system, leaving behind a sudden bone tiredness that makes his lids heavy and breathing slow.
With the sound of the vehicle lulling him and the comfort of Hannibal’s presence beside him - alive, together - sleep comes quickly, and the last thing Will knows before the darkness claims him is the feeling of a warm hand gently coming to rest upon his own.
#nbc hannibal#hannigram#hannigram fic#hannibal fanfiction#my writing#kiss prompts#gonna say abigail is in the backseat of the car but it's dark and will is too tired to notice lol#and they find a way to have all 7 dogs sent to wherever they end up :)#i hope this is decent enough and there aren't any mistakes!#pretty sure everything is capitalised and in the same tense now haha#god this has taken forever#also#this is the first fic i've managed to finish in like 7 years so i'm really proud :)#now to work on my many other wips!#also i hope the formatting is ok!#let me know if it's horrible lol and i'll try to fix it
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Happy new year! Today is Shizu's 14th anniversary as an UTAU, so to celebrate, here's some new art.
#sod's art#utau#sogone shizu#original character#shizu sogone#I still can't draw long hair very well lol#but it's been a solid like....6-7 years since the last official art so she was due for an upgrade#what i'm uploading here is a relatively small size#i'll include the full size versions on soaringutau.wordpress.com eventually#the coat closed is still a very in-use design but i wanted to try drawing it open too#also here's a new design with pants 'cause she was due for that too#i'm scheduling this from right before US thanksgiving so i guess if I can fix the hair i'll just replace it stealthily haha...#anyway this is a bit of an 'oh well close enough' situation 'cause i'm not quiiiite happy with the pose#but poses tend to be my struggle anyway...
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#creator speaks#a funny i saw on my twitter thought i should insert my ship into it 👍👍👍#WHICH IS FUNNY BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL *IS* A TUMBLR POST but oh well#man the thoughts that simmered in my head in the past year and a half over them and how her inclusion kinda changes the story...#lol ik i always “speak” of it and discord besties would know a little more than those who aren't but i digress#i love it i love the thought of just...Madison putting so much of her faith and trust and love in them that she just becomes loyal to them#helping their cause and personal issues wanting to be a reliable friend and loved one to them#(probably the abandonment issues that's operating in that brain of hers lmao but) she just wants to stay by their side !!#and hope that they let her stay there in the years of them growing up together#somewhere in the messy notes in my brain and in my laptop's notepad did i think far in changing their overall fate to make the ending happy#but i just feel like that's just gonna stay there or be discussed in really tight circles IF i feel like sharing it hehu#i feel like madison and me inserting her into the jojo universe as a sort of “fix-it” tool is one that araki and many others wld surely hat#HAHAHAHAHA#when my notes and lore try to go against the biggest theme of fate in the series and how we're destined to go through it-#-that it can't be changed. how the joestars are cursed yadda yadda#i'm so normcore domestic life happy ending mary sue fix it canon divergence pilled okay !!!#i want both jotaro and kakyoin to be happy and alive !!! and making that possible by inserting my lame ass op oc 😎😎😎#HAHAHAH whatever i'll stop yapping <33
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The path from obsession to feelings to presence is not about healing our “wounded children” or feeling every bit of rage or grief we never felt so that we can be successful, thin, and happy. We are not trying to put ourselves together. We are taking who we think we are apart. We feel the feelings not so that we can blame our parents for not saying, “Oh darling,” not so that we can hit pillows and express our anger to everyone we’ve never confronted, but because unmet feelings obscure our ability to know ourselves. As long as we take ourselves to be the child who was hurt by an unconscious parent, we will never grow up. We will never know who we actually are. We will keep looking for the parent who never showed up and forget to see that the one who is looking is no longer a child.
Geneen Roth, Women, Food, and God
#currently reading#i think i started this years ago and then forgot about it but now that i'm trying to fix my eating we're back lol
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Don't want to tone police anyone else, but I kind of hope that if anyone sent me a misguided ask trying to 'correct' some terminology I used for my own self-identity, I'd be able to reply in a way that didn't frame myself as superior for being out longer than the asker.
#i've only been out for like 5 mins anyway so i kind of hate that anyway for maybe personal reasons??#i met a lot of trans people my age this year who also didn't come out during their entire 20s for Reasons#and we all agreed it fucking sucks and feels like wasted time#and i'm well aware people come out much much later than that and the same applies#as a transmasc person i have detected a small amount of 'well how would you know you only just came out like 5 mins ago'#from other transmasc people about my age who have been out way longer#and i understand where they are coming from i guess but i also can't help it#and i hope our community never has to be divided by supposed privilege lines of who came out when and who spent more time as 'cis'...#maybe people are already trying to do this but i hope not because none of that stuff is fixed enough to be an axis of oppression#though it does change our experiences of life of course it's never as simple as 'privileged vs oppressed' on things like this#in particular there's one transmasc person in my local area (there aren't many lol) who i really want to connect with but who has made#implications that they see people like me as trans babies of sorts#like not talking about me but someone else they said of a long-time friend of theirs who just came out as transmasc#'i could have used that support 10 years ago!'#i was just like :/ well they aren't talking about me but is this how people in my community see me??#anyway i think if we can't have compassion for and acceptance of each other's unique experiences it will stand in the way of intra-communit#connection
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I don't know if it's rude to ask, so apologies in advance if I sound mean, but… how come you repeatedly bring up old posts of yours from three or more years ago? Do you remember each original post you make and intentionally bring them back? Like, I don't think there's anything wrong, your blog can be whatever you want, obviously, and your stuff is always funny or curious in some way, just… I'm kind of lost as of how it came to be, I guess? I don't think I remember my own posts after 6 months, much least if I have to go back to 2020!
ahaha no it's usually just because i'm going back through a tag looking for something else! i recently went back through my entire "my posts" tag (which contains...1468 posts, dear lord) and while i was doing that saw several posts that i felt like reblogging for whatever reason. so it's usually not that i remember them and go looking for them on purpose, it's that i come across them incidentally in the course of doing something else.
if you want to know why i reblog them after coming across them, 1) usually i don't! you are seeing the tip of the iceberg lol, and 2) it's mostly because it's hard to resist the "sooo true, bestie" urge, even when the bestie is just...yourself.
#sometimes...things that are written by me...are things i agree with#but oftentimes they are not once a few years have passed lol. i mean i just looked at 1468 posts by yours truly#and queued probably 1% of them#oh i also went through my asks tag which was another 500 or so posts#if you want to know why i'm putting myself through this it's for a really ridiculous reason#namely: several nights ago i had insomnia brought on by (get this) being too excited to sleep because my brain wouldn't stop#coming up with crosslinguistic french/english puns#and a couple of them in particular i was like oh god this would be a great tumblr username!#however as i've said before i had no plans to ever change my username (even though i don't like it)#because doing so would break any links that contain my current username#i had resigned myself to just living with this username forever. but once i thought of some usernames i actually like#it became harder to resist the urge to change it...#so now i have this convoluted plan to try to identify and tag as many of the links as i can#so that after i switch names i can go back and fix the links#however i'm not sure how feasible this is. there are a lot of links#and no matter what i do short of going through all 45k posts on this blog i will be bound to miss some of them anyway#(i think getting a domain would solve this problem but i don't wanna get a domain bc i'd have to give wordpress my legal name)#indecisive superhero meme w the buttons 'the need to have punny username' vs. 'the need to be able to find things on my blog'#asks#anon#actually anon probably the majority of the time i rb something i wrote 3 years ago it's bc i forgot about it#i come across it and am like oh yeah! this! and it's like a brand new discovery so i put it back on the dash lol#anyway thanks for your ask! i got a kick out of it 😂
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I got back to trying to write the Olli/Aleksi fic I mentioned last(?) week, and this is basically how it's going
me: this will be a cute fluffy sfw story
o & a: but what if we kissed... and our hands started to wander... and things got a little heated...
me: sure, a bit of that sounds great 👍 just don't get too carried away!
o & a: *kissing, groaning, neck biting, slight scratching, moaning*
me: okay that's enough! let's go back to the cute fluff and wrap up this fic
o & a: no 😊
me: i won't let you continue. go to bed boys.
o & a: okay!
me: ... wait, i meant, go to bed for some cuddles and sleeping!!
o & a: lol sure 😏 *undressing each other in between heated kisses*
me: i did not see that coming
#characters doing whatever the hell they want is both the best and worst thing about writing#also. the fic i'm writing now is so clumsy but i was like it's just because i haven't written in months and i'm rusty#but last night i took a look at some of the fics i've written earlier and maybe this is just how bad i am at writing 🙈#anyway i still want to get back to writing more because it's lots of fun even if the quality is low#and ofc i have to do nanowrimo also this year so it'd be nice to try to write a few stories before that as warm up#i was thinking of attempting to write a drabble or something for each bc pairing#but actually i might be more tempted to just write some olliallu stories#because i'm in the mood for that and also apparently so far i've written only like 5 olliallu fics and that needs to be fixed#idk we'll see how it goes 🤷♀️😅#not that i think anyone cares about my story ramblings considering i haven't even published any fics lol#just felt like rambling anyway 😂#ALSO if someone is planning to do nanowrimo and wants to talk/rant/panic about it hmu
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au: Iceman lives but he's still doing chemio, Mav and Slider have a kind of hate/hate/love relationship but when it comes to their mutual friend they pair up faster than you could ever believed. Oh, and Hondo is fuckin' smart, he follows Mav from job to job because he likes to go around and meet new people and have new challenges everytime, before he gets bored.
Warning for homophobic assholes, angst, slurs and not enough punching.
Sunny outside doesn't mean Maverick is happy. This fucking new place where they moved the base is always sunny and he would appreciate it if heat could give them a little breath because it's just the end of march and they already have to switch on the air conditioner and that made Tom get cold again. It's never a good day when his husband gets sick because of stupid stuff it could be avoided. Better yet, it is never going to be a good day until a cold won't degenerate into fever and long nights fighting sleep and nightmares.
He fucking misses Miramar, their favourite spot on the beach and the gentle old lady who used to spend the afternoon with Ice playing cards, watching stupid telenovelas and keeping him company when Maverick had to be elsewhere.
The new class isn't helping his mood either. The best of the best and a new brand of fucking assholes who doesn't listen to him, makes him want to punch everybody in the face and likes Cyclone a little too much for his, and Hondo's, taste. Hondo not liking an entire class says much, especially after three years of teaching at TOPGUN and the number of years the man himself spend working with many different kinds of people in every program the brass moved him to.
If on a normal and sunny day Maverick would have just let it slide and got back to them making the exercise just a little more difficult to complete, today he just can't, not again and not after what he heard while walking in his classroom. Skylab is the first voice he hears but Viking is the one who answers and the deafening silence from the others doesn't help. It hurts a bit when not even Empress, the only decent person and a very good pilot, says something.
The brass let a faggot like Kazansky win this stupid fucking price and then made him Admiral. Who knows how many favours he had to do just to enter the Navy.
Probably not as many he had to do all these years to save Captain Mavsshole. Probably he has AIDS and not even cancer but they are just too ashamed, to tell the truth, or everyone would ask too many questions.
Pete has to count until ten and then until a hundred and then another time until a hundred before taking another step. He knows all his seeing, and hearing, is just blind rage and it could make it worst, probably ending up in prison or in the hospital and then Ice should get up to fetch him and he isn't in the state to do anything, he shouldn't do anything if not get better. He counts from one hundred to zero a third time, takes a deep breath and thinks he can handle this without resulting in homicide and a dishonourable discharge from the Navy and leaving so much mess to clean to Carlos and David. He likes them and he likes having lunch with them. So no to punch because then his husband should come for him and he can't, no to kill or he's going to lose two friends but he can't act as if nothing happened. So he'll have to think about what to do and they're going to regret even letting their own brain think about something like that.
The punishment arrives in town under the shape of one Ron Slider Kerner who decided to come around to see his best friend and spent time making Maverick's week a complete hell. Or maybe not.
When he comes back home that same night Slider is already around, sitting on the couch, talking with Ice about something and someone who got married down in Cali and people Mav doesn't know. Tom looks a little better and just that makes the day a little less heavy, when they kiss hello he can feel his husband's hands around his face and their grip is stronger every day and that would have made his knees give up and cry a little because it was such a close call this time he almost can't still believe this man, four starts admiral Tom Iceman Kazansky, is still alive and fighting and kissing him when he comes back home. Then Slider cough and oh, oh man now he knows what to do and how to make that bunch of assholes pay. They're going to hell without moving a step and they're blissful unaware of what it's waiting for them.
He has to wait after dinner after Ice is in bed and Slider is tidying around because he lived with Ice too and took some of his husband freakish habit when it comes to have a spotless kitchen in a spotless house. So Slider, I have a favour to ask he announces once he's back in front of him and Slider's smirk is a very knowing one. And so the game begins.
Wednesday morning is a little cooler than Tuesday and Ice's cold seems a less intense. He takes Slider with him because he must see the new state of art place where he's working he says to Ice and his husband laughs and looks like he's sayin' I know something is going on, be careful babe.
The class is already sitting in their usual spots, a pilot and their RIO every row, and they look at them walking in with the most confused expression ever. Oh, you don't have the slightest idea of what is going to happen now.
Class this is Captain Ron Kerner, callsign Slider, he was Admiral Kazansky's RIO for most of their years in the air and he's going to teach you a couple of things this week. He worked around a little bit, after he stop flying, went to DC, decided to put his ass on a chair and then went back in combat with some very tough dudes who taught him a thing or two. He's here for a visit and, over dinner, I was thinking it would have been so nice to have him over to teach you something new. He was so happy to accept.
Slider is subtle in what he does and how he does his work, he learned it following Ice around during his first years in his Admiral carrier and perfect the rest working on his own projects at the Pentagon and around DC. He takes the all class up in the sky at five am, makes them run miles every time their manoeuvres aren't exactly by the book, gives homework and books to read, checks their rooms and confiscated their alcohol and cigarettes, and takes them to the veteran home and forgets them there for a whole day because he has to take Ice to try the new ice cream place, then comes back at eight in the evening, makes them run again, questions them about politics and tactics and makes them running a little more. But the worst is the inactivity: after spending days moving around like the world is going to end the second next to this one, he makes them sit in class st five-thirty in the morning and makes them wait. For an hour, then two and then three. It's eight-thirty and Slider is strolling in the classroom looking like someone who had the best sleep and coffee in his life while every single student is dying to sleep, drink something other than water and, generally, their poor brains are begging do something. Good morning class, today we have a nine-hour lecture, so get ready to have your world shake and you're going to learn stuff you're never going to forget.
Almost ten hours later, a break of thirty minutes around midmorning and Slider smiles and announces, candied as the day his parents baptized him, that everything has a reason in this life and a day of lectures on the culture of queer people, slurs, AIDS and flying is the bare minimum they deserve and he's going to make sure no one's name is going to end of the plaque because they don't deserves such an honour, or any honor, when they can't give the basic respect to a human, let alone to one of their superiors. And yes, every single one of them is going to get back in flight school, even if it will cost Slider and Maverick all the favours they have to ask, and not isn't just because of the comment on Admiral Kazansky, that was only the last straw and yes Viking you can call the President of the United States for all I care.
It's Wednesday again, it's raining outside, Maverick is making pancakes for three people, he doesn't have to go to work because he doesn't have a new class for at least another month and a half, Slider is looking around as if he was the king of the world and Ice is trying really hard not to ask what his husband and best friend did. He's going to read a report, a couple of days later, very detailed about everything that happened but by then Slider will be back in DC and Maverick will be fussing about taking a walk and looking to adopt a cat and starting a new hobby that will get them out of the house every time they can.
For now, Tom enjoys the pace and some delicious pancake, while Mav and Slider finish forging a strange new alliance, signed over the promise of mutual help and no question asked when needed.
#it was supposed to be a prompt bc i'm trying to prep at best for this afternoon lesson but apparently things got a little out of hand#ty grammarly to make this more redable but if u finds mistakes pls let me know!!#pete maverick mitchell#tom iceman kazansky#ron slider kerner#icemav#mav & slider forming tentative friendship to protect ice: new trope#new class is full of homopobic assholes and mav can't punch them all so he does what he does best: creates avock#slider is more than happy to help#but he has important things to do to while he is in town!! like take his bbf to eat icecream#homophobia#slider has a power point for his ten hours lecture with pictures and videos and he wanted a report after#viking & skylab & empress are callsign names i found on google lol#ice is loved#but it's a pretest to fix things bc the navy won't do it#it becomes a ritual of sort: every year slider is around for a lecture at the beginning of the year and if pilots aren't okay with what-#-he is saying they can leave the program at the beginning so they can find someone better to put there#idk what the fuck i'm doing honestly i'm still tired from this weekend and stuff#married couple#au: iceman lives#(cancer is retriving and he's getting better every day)#post-movie#top gun: maverick#ice x mav#otp: i heard from the heavens that clouds have been grey
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Sorry if this is a bother or comes across as pretentious, but I did want to mention that I really like the composition of the pages leading to the end of PLA that you've done as well as the subtle change in artstyle. Like, the change is very subtle but that makes it all the more obvious to me and it's really good! Although it'd be better put as less a "change" and more of a "growth"; I don't know how to put the extent of how it is different than before your involuntary story hiatus into words, but a bit of an accurate way to describe it is that the pages of, for example the Avalugg fight, in comparison to any of the recently released pages is like switching from 720p to 1080p. (HD.... 2!!!)
It was super noticeable for me during the Origin Palkia (and Dialga) fight where the quality practically skyrocketed; everything look so... clear(?) I was in awe from how good everything looked and I had seen your tweets about the misery of drawing Palkia's and Dialga's origin forms and I will say they looked phenomenal. That work absolutely payed off and I look forward to seeing just how more you'll grow when you finally finish the PLA run and start ScarVi.
OH THANK YOU it’s not pretentious!! 😳😳😳
I think that aside from actually using colors there’s the width of the pages themselves -- I made them a little bit wider than usual to make sure nothing would feel super cramped sdkjcjkdsfh 🥲🥲🥲
(also spending 3 months on it on and off meant that every time I went back to reread it for continuity I was able to correct panels that looked a little weird or off model! 😳)
#oceandi answers#darkclouds-rainsounds#I use color sparingly and while part of that is just wanting to save time it does make things sort of like pop when it's there#I used it during the eternatus fight for the same reason -- heightened dramatic effect fsdkjfhkjdh#though I guess I have used it for random things too like that one part where gene and guz are trying to sway lusamine and cyrus respectively#but boy ohr boy is it going to be a thing that happens when the colors from the panel at the start of the run are compared to the panel#where gene's home for the first time all year#AUGH [disintegrates]#lol I originally drew the lake guardians' caves wrong I swapped azelf's and mesprit's#considering how little we see of them I don't think anyone else would have noticed but *I* noticed so I fixed it skjfsjdkhf#kgdhkjhfsdkjh I'm just really glad that folks are liking them it's 😭😭😭😭
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hi guys, it's been a while :3
#oh yeah#also i finished my first year at uni!!!#i'm determined to become an academic weapon next year and am actively taking steps in becoming so >:)#little bit of a life update:#i'm doing well#i have yet to fix my sleep schedule tbh...#it's fine though#um what else#i'm trying to get into hsr but i'm sorry it's just not the same </3#i'm not even trying to compare it to genshin please don't misunderstand#but i enjoy the exploration aspect of genshin and hsr imo is more combat focused which is wonderful but just not for me yk??#but i still have it downloaded and open from time to time#i wanted to pull for jin yuan but i'm not so sure i will now tbh#i don't have that many pulls in the first place lol#but how are y'all?? let me know deeeeetsssss :)
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24 days left. I shouldn't be excited for this to be over soon but gotta be honest. Mental health wise not my best few months. Kinda glad to go home soon
#it's really just the eating problem#that's the main thing ruining my life lol#kinda pathetic#i end up literally crying like every other day because i fucked up a perfectly good 'healthy' eating pattern i developed the past 4 years#and can't seem to get over it#and i know it's probably gonna follow me home but a part of me still wants to believe things will just go back to being okay#once I'm back and can exercise the way i want and eat what i want again#and of course also have some mental support and things to focus on other than obsessing over food and body issues#(i.e. my wonderful sweet little baby dogs who i love more than life and who definitely will fix Everything)#i just gotta try to make it through these last 3 weeks with minimal damage#it's literally fine#void screams
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the way i was devastated after vol2 aired lol, and i couldn't sleep for hours bc the vol was so shitty. but now, if s5 turns out to be shit af, i would just laugh. gotta respect the character development here bc i dont give a fuck anymore.
i walked around with a stomachache for a good 48 hours like it was really bad for me...if s5 turns out to be shit af i will walk around with a stomachache for 96 hours🙏
#ask#this said less than 96 for 21 seconds i was like that doesn't seem right#no but like#i get why some twt bylers who are wil stans first act like will getting a happy ending at all/will getting a boyfriend/will's romance arc#being good is all that matters and like that#can be done without byler being endgame because that shit fucking hurt like 48 hours isn't that long but it was SO BAD#obviously i'm team might as well have fun for two (lol) years instead of being like omg what if it doesn't happen. but it's also because i#literally haven't doubted byler since like...july 10th maybe#and when you're a twt byler whose faith in byler depends on like whether or not they like will enough to not do this to him and to give him#a nice boyfriend or whatever and you barely consider mike's side of things i see why you'd try to convince yourself that another outcome#CAN be great. when like..it cant be great they already had will fix mlvn's relationship were past will getting a random bf and mlvn endgame#and yk it's one thing to move on with your life and not be a hardcore byler anymore or to be like i don't like it that much anymore but#some of them really started being like you're sooo dumb for thinking that byler ever stood a chance😂😂😂😂 (ithoughtthattoofiveweeksago)#they're gonna give will a nice boyfriend and it's gonna be great😂😂😂👍 yeah keep telling yourself that...#but yeah i kind of get it because i wouldn't want to have to go through volume 2 all over again either lmao#but also i don't because well#they're wrong#and i'm a byler who's a will stan who also happens to use twitter frequently#as for the rest of the show well if it's bad i'll be disappointed#but my stomach probably won't hurt because of how sad it's making me#or maybe it will it's not unheard of
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Now that we're well past our moving crisis, etc. I'm trying really hard to get back onto any semblance of a schedule. You know, just like.. eating and sleeping regularly and not working 100% of the time? But dang. It's hard.
It's past 9pm though so I'm gonna try to like play a visual novel or something and then go to bed at a decent time instead of working on shop stuff all night. Wish me luck. ✌️😭
#witch vamp#text post#personal post#the struggle has been real#during and immediately after moving 3 times over a month i was of course VERY worried about all my savings bleeding away#and since my bf was joining the business and no longer had a regular person job#needless to say i was feeling a lot of pressure to figure out how to keep us afloat#we're out of the weeds now and also in a not cursed townhouse#i think it'll all be ok#but it's really hard to let my guard down#i'm like all crisis handling and work mode#and zero percent take care of myself and basic human needs mode#trying to fix that before things get bad#anyways haha#thank you all so much for all the support while we went through hell#i hope you'll all enjoy the things i'm working on for this year!#if anyone reads this far into the tags and has any visual novel recommendations please let me know lol#some of my faves are 428 shibuya scramble / higurashi / va11 HallA / hatoful boyfriend
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man, therapy is such a trip.
#i have now been with my therapist for four whole human years.#and there's stuff that is only just coming up now!#so funny to think back to when I thought I could sort it all out in a couple of months lol#one thing I've learned is that when I go to a session with no real idea of what i'm going to talk about today#is when i get into the deep shit.#the past 3 sessions have been so painful!#i'm feeling so tired and sensitive. coming face to face with lifelong patterns of social exclusion is really fucking rough#it's hard to look at my life and not come to the conclusion that there is something inherently wrong with me#that has caused me to be so continually othered/sidelined in group dynamics#but i'm trying to be kinder to myself#and recognise that I am carrying a metric shit ton of trauma#and that circumstances have rarely been in my favour#anyway. i deeply crave community and am still feeling pretty isolated#but unsure how to approach this just yet! still so terrified of rejection that I simply avoid group activities!#i need a group hug and a forest stream and a puppy#that'll fix me surely#delete later probably idk
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