#(it is the potential to severely hurt each other. but refusing to do so. and making sure they dont hurt the other)

[folkloreandfable]

Redamancy (J. V)《《《

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targtower!Aunt!reader Warnings: None Tags: No dance AU, idiots in love, regency romance inspired Synopsis: Queen Alicent has arranged for her youngest daughter to find a suitable marriage partner, and Jace knows there is no better match than him. A/N: I wrote this drabble to get out of a writer's block. No beta as of yet.

Jacaerys Velaryon was in love with his aunt since their minority. It was no secret since he did a rather shoddy job of hiding his affections for the youngest, Lady Targaryen. They’ve exchanged missives over the years but have not seen each other since the incident in Driftmark. How he yearned to gaze upon her once more, see her smile, feel her warmth. For the past six years, he feared the possibility of her being swept away by another. Alicent Hightower would never wed her daughter to him if her saying no for Helaena was any indication. Though he was grateful for that rejection. He had several ideas, some involved asking his mother to petition King Viserys, who rarely refused her. Others involved stealing her away to Dragonstone in the dead of night himself. In her more recent letters, y/n mentioned that Alicent would be holding interviews for potential marriage candidates. At first it sent him into a panic until he realised the opportunity it presented.

»»———-　˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀　———-««

Marriage to a princess of the Dragon house was indeed a grave affair. Many assumed she would be wedded to her brother Aemond. And Alicent did wish for it as well, but Viserys shut down the suggestion. It would be more fruitful to use this as an opportunity to form alliances with other houses instead. So began the tedious process. You were halfway to sleep by the time the candidate from house Rosby left the parlor. Your options so far were too old, too lecherous, too vain or too unsightly. Most of them were all four. And you prayed for it to end. Alicent only gave you a sympathetic look, since her fate was not far off from what yours would be. She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, ready to call it a day, when a servant came knocking. “Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon seek an audience, my queen.” Alicent’s grip tightened on you, but she gestured for the servants to let them in anyway. And soon enough, came in Rhaenyra with Jace in tow. Your Jace, for whom you have longed for and pretended to not realise his longing for you. He has grown into a fine young man with strong features and thick black curls. “Your grace,” he bowed to Alicent before locking his gaze with you, which released a thousand butterflies in your stomach. “My lady,” he gallantly took your and placed a kiss on the back, which lasted a touch longer than appropriate. You felt your mother stiffen up, but decided to focus more on the lingering warmth from Jacaery’s lips. “Princess Rhaenyra,” Alicent flatly began. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Rhaenyra smiled in response, not at all bothered by Alicent’s disdain. “I heard you were interviewing candidates for my dearest sister. I could not possibly allow it to conclude before the most suitable one had a chance.” “Yes!” you blurted out, unable to stop the grin forming on your lips until you realised everyone’s eyes were now on you and you flushed in embarrassment but quickly regained your composure. “I mean, it would be an honour.” Jace suppressed the laugh forming in his throat so you did not think he was ridiculing you. In fact, he found your reaction very pleasing and adorable. “Tis settled then,” Rhaenyra declared to prevent any protests from Alicent, who she pulled along to give the young lovers some privacy. Neither of you says anything. Just content looking into each other’s eyes and smiling until your mouths hurt. What would you interview him for, anyway? You knew everything about him. From his favourite food to his deepest secrets. You knew him as a person. Jace is the first to break from his reverie and crosses the room again to kneel before you. “My princess,” he covers her hands with his own. “Before speaking the words burning within my heart, I must ask, do you love another?”

Your eyes widen briefly before yoy reassuringly smile and shake your head, to which you see him visibly relax. “Good,” he smiles back, tightening his grip ever so slightly. “The past six years I have ached in agony. Every waking moment, I wished to sleep so that I may see you in my sleep. Y/n Targaryen, I love you, most ardently. Will you do me the honour of being my bride and future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms?” You freeze as his words wrap around you and sink into your skin, sending jolts down every nerve ending. Who knew your patience all day would be rewarded so handsomely? “Yes!” You fervently nod, feeling tears prickle your eyes, and Jace also bursts into his own expression of joy. »»———-　˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀　———-«« Not long after, you find yourselves before the Iron throne, next to your respective mothers. Viserys sweeps between you four before gesturing you forward. “Speak, daughter.” You glance at your mother who took no pains to hide her disapproval, then to Jacaerys who gave you an encouraging nod before you finally face your father. “The candidates today have been the most…comely, but I love Prince Jacaerys and I wish to marry him.” You clear your throat. “With your majesty’s permission, of course.” With that, you quickly scurry back to your mother, feeling rather exposed with all the eyes on and you and notice a small smirk on Jace from your peripheral. There is few moments of unsettling silence before your father raises a hand. “This calls for a celebration!” “But, my love!” Your mother steps forward. “You wished to form new alliances–” “And we shall arrange the wedding to be in three moons.” He cut her off with finality before dismissing everyone. So the betrothal of Princess Y/n Targaryen and Prince Jacaerys was announced the following day. A joyous occasion that many hoped will mend the seam between the two families. Alicent, in time, has come to accept the arrangement after some consolation from Otto. As long as the Hightower blood sits on that Iron throne, it is all that matters. »»———-　˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀　———-«« Inbox: Open

[lady-dulcinea]

Something the October 11th entry really highlights is how much Mina and Jonathan are sure about each other. How much they know each other to the point they can read each other without any perceived difficulty, and how their devotion, their partnership, although treasured and seamlessly reciprocated by both, is never even questioned by them.

When Mina receives news that Jonathan is alive, she goes, an unmarried and unaccompanied woman, all the way to find him and marry him, even tho he’s still traumatised, half mad from his stay at Castle Dracula, and in the eyes of society could very much be considered an “invalid”. But she marries him anyway, and although Jonathan does gently reaffirm the delicate state of his body and specially his mind, he never really seems overly surprised that she chose him despite it all. And in the same entry we see a similar reaction from Mina when Sister Agatha feels the need to inform her that she shouldn’t worry that Jonathan’s malady might be because of some other woman; she all but scoffs at the idea, because it hadn’t even crossed her mind. Of course there isn’t another woman. Similarly, as she eventually makes acquaintance with several men, all of them rich bachelors who grow a quick and openly affectionate bond with her, Jonathan has not a single moment of insecurity about it. Of course they all love Mina, why wouldn’t they? Jealousy requires a certain lack of confidence in your partner that neither of them has. Their worries concerning each other are always ALWAYS directed at external influences: That something will hurt them, or that something will keep them from each other.

Which brings us to October 11th, when that sureness is brought to it’s highest, most tragic peak. Jonathan knew what Mina intended calling them all to meet her before their trip. He was so sure of it he spoke with Jack beforehand to make sure it would all be documented correctly, as he himself would never be able to write down such a thing as a symbolic funeral for his beloved. And he also knew what she would make them promise to do.

Because Mina, beyond just wishing to have the littlest bit of agency over her own death, is being strategic here. She knows Jonathan will “be with her to the very end”. She does not need to know of the promise he made to her in the solitude of his diary. Their devotion to each other is a given, one they do not take for granted, but that they expect nonetheless because they know each other and the strength of their love. Had she read the promise, she would undoubtedly be shocked by it, specifically by the utter heresy of it, devout as she is to her faith. But she would not be surprised, and this entry shows her anticipating what the Worst Case Scenario could potentially do to her husband, and trying to avoid it at all cost.

No, I don’t think she gone as far as assuming that Jonathan would deliberately choose vampirism for her. He has been as much of a devout christian as her for most of their lives, and tho she is not blind to the changes the last few months (and specially the last few days) have caused on him, she would not there suggest the Holiest Love conclusion is anywhere close to his mind. For after all, she has explicitly stated that she wants to be received by the grace of God, wants the same freedom granted by the boys to the soul of dear Lucy, and Jonathan simply wouldn’t deny her that.

Right?

And guys, as much as I love Jonathan’s vow and how he absolutely refuses to let her “walk into that unknown and terrible land alone”… it is a selfish vow. Romantic to the core, but selfish. Jonathan knows that’s not what Mina wants. He phrases it in a way that makes it seem like he is doing it purely out of love for her, so she’ll not be alone, but really, the selfless thing would be to do what she asked of him today. Her soul would be free, there would be no more Dracula to torment the world and kill innocents, and when Jonathan’s time came, he would join her in heaven.

But as I said before, the only thing that ever worries them about their relationship is whether or not they are hurt and when there is something keeping them apart. Jonathan goes to Transylvania and Dracula tries to keep him there: they both suffer from the distance. The first time Jonathan went to meet a client was the first time he and Mina were away from each other since the wedding, and she expresses anxiety about that. The men want to keep Mina away from vampire business to “protect her”: both her and Jonathan are unhappy with suddenly keeping secrets from each other. “A door is locked between them” because there is a part of Dracula inside Mina’s mind and she cannot be trusted to know all their planning, and Jonathan is crestfallen about it. Their deepest source of misery is always not being with each other, not being able to communicate properly, not just be together. And they both know that. Mina is just severely underestimating how far Jonathan would go so they’re not separated. As it is, she knows her death would bring him terrible grief, and by asking the help of their friends today and making him read the burial service, she’s trying to both a) Guarantee that should Jonathan’s hand falter, more steady ones would fulfil her wish; b) Unite them once more in the care they all have for her and show Jonathan that, should the worst happen, he won’t be alone. The other will be there. He shall not be so lonely if/when he becomes a widower; c) Perhaps by reading the burial service he can become more used to the possibility of her death and ease his heart to the matter.

However, Jonathan promises nothing to anyone. He asked for Jack to make an accurate description of what happened so that no detail would be left out, and yet we hear no word of confirmation from him.

And I’m sure she noticed it, too.

[queers-gambit]

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[thecraftyninjacat]

Mahoro, Matakara, Aladdin and the Princess

I think Episode 8 finally confirmed to me that the role of the Princess in the Aladdin allusion was actually split between Mahoro and Matakara, rather than it being one or the other. There's a reason why they're both represented by Jasmine-chan during the Nyan Nyaight Love cutaways!

Preface; imo Bucchigiri's narrative takes inspiration from both Disney's Aladdin and the original Aladdin story, so I'm going to switch the Princess's name depending on which version of her I'm referring to. So Jasmine -> Disney's Aladdin, and Badroulbadour -> 1001 Nights Aladdin.

From what I saw in the 1001 Nights Aladdin, Badroulbadour didn't have much of a personality, so it makes sense that a lot of Mahoro and Matakara's personalities were taken from Jasmine, while their roles in the story were slightly more influenced by Badroulbadour.

Mahoro: The feistier side of Jasmine. She has a sharp tongue and always speaks her mind, regardless of potential danger. Eg. Mahoro stands up to Akutaro after he gains the upper hand on both gangs, similarly to how Jasmine refuses to bow to Jafar when he becomes Sultan.

She's also regarded as pretty desirable, and has charmed several men to get them to do what she wants (something that both Jasmine and Badroulbadour do at some point to trick Jafar/the sorcerer). Arajin falls for Mahoro at first sight, similarly to how both versions of Aladdin fell for both versions of the Princess, and like Aladdin his crush on her becomes his driving motivation throughout the series. Akutaro also talks about turning her into a NG Girl and…abusing her, a la Jafar. Ik it's just to trigger Arajin but yk what I mean!

Matakara: The gentler, more naive side of Jasmine, in that he trusts/believes in Arajin...a lot more than he should, really. The main 'lying' plot point between Disney's Aladdin and Jasmine is directly implemented into Matakara and Arajin's relationship. On a surface level there's also their blue colour schemes and phonetically similar names (Asamine -> Jasmine). Near the climax of the 1001 Nights version, the sorcerer tricks Badroulbadour into giving him the lamp with the genie in it, similarly to how Akutaro manipulates Matakara into shooting himself with Ichiya. Both actions trigger a Very Bad Turn of Events that Aladdin stops/will have to stop with the help of his own genie.

Also very interesting how Ichiya has a moon motif, and Badroulbadour's name is a metaphor for female beauty meaning 'full moon of full moons'. Totally not losing my fucking mind over that no sir

Though they both fit the Princess allusion, the entire show is screaming that Matakara is Arajin's true Jasmine, and Arajin is going to realise he was what he needed all along. Honestly, it doesn't get more obvious than Episode 9.

That's not to mention how Mahoro and Matakara also have many, many parallels to each other via their relationships with Arajin. (Both visit him one-on-one at his mom's restaurant to convince him to do something and order the exact same dish, Arajin thinks of child Matakara after seeing both current Matakara and Mahoro get hurt, his meetings with both of them are juxtaposed with one another and described as a 'fated meeting' in this trailer, etc.)

Aside from that, there's also a lot of little stuff that the two have in common! (Both suck at cooking, both deeply care about their older siblings, both are cute as hell etc etc.)

(it's also pretty neat how they're technically both the respective 'princesses' of Minato Kai and Siguma, being the younger siblings of the leader/former leader of each gang!)

[an-ri]

ZoSan - Random one word one-shot series!

Day 3: Lullaby

Sanji had an angelic voice.

Despite spending a significant amount of time sailing together on the ship—sleeping in close proximity, sharing meals, and having each other���s backs—Zoro had never heard the cook sing. It seemed that, regardless of the circumstance, Sanji never sang in the presence of others.

As for why, Zoro couldn’t quite figure it out if he were honest.

The first time he heard Sanji sing, he was taken aback. How could this beautifully woven voice belong to someone as arrogant and rowdy as the cook? The only reason Sanji allowed Zoro to hear, was because he hadn’t noticed him. The swordsman stood by the door, his steps gliding soundlessly over the ship’s wooden floor.

Sanji’s voice was nothing short of beautiful—a symphony of tones akin to the smooth glide of a perfectly wielded blade, cutting through the air with precision.

The melody flowed from Sanji’s lips like a river down a narrow path, navigating every curve and twist effortlessly to create a harmonious cascade.

Rooted to the spot by the door, Zoro found himself captivated and unwilling to disrupt the enchanting spell cast by Sanji’s singing.

He stood there, listening intently, fully aware that any disturbance on his part might cause the melody to stop. Instead, he turned noiselessly on his heel and moved away from the door.

Since that moment, a considerable amount of time had passed, weeks, perhaps even months.

There hadn’t been a similar occurrence. Zoro was confident that the cook had become more cautious about his surroundings and potential eavesdroppers. It shouldn’t have concerned Zoro, but the persistent thought lingered, refusing to be dismissed. It was infuriating.

The memory remained vivid in his mind, as if it had happened just the day before. Even now, he could distinctly hear Sanji’s singing if he concentrated hard enough, although he knew it was merely a projection of his mind.

⭐⭐⭐

Zoro found himself bedridden and miserable, the aftermath of a losing battle leaving him with severe bruises and a light head injury. Nearly two days of unconsciousness followed, and as he slowly awoke, the gentle sound of a familiar voice singing a beautiful melody greeted him.

His eyelids were heavy, and his eyes felt sticky with sleep. A grumbled sound escaped his throat, catching the attention of Sanji, who had been sitting by his side. The singing stopped, replaced by a warmth over his hand and a soft touch.

“Are you awake?”

Sanji’s voice carried traces of worry and fear.

Struggling to fully open his eyes, Zoro took in the sight of the man before him. Sanji looked tired, as if he had been sitting there for days. Dark shadows hung low under his eyes, and his hair stood up in messy strands.

Reality slowly settled in for Zoro as he blinked a few times, confirming that this was not a dream. His head throbbed, and pain radiated from his chest and sides, as if his entire body was on fire.

“Why did you stop?” Zoro’s voice, foreign and raspy, came out more like a murmur due to his weakened state.

“What?” Sanji looked confused.

“The singing”, Zoro clarified. “Why did you stop?”

“What does it matter?”, Sanji flared up. “Are you alright? You’ve been hurt badly. We didn’t know if you would make it. I promised Chopper to keep an eye on you in case you... you...”

Was it just Zoro’s imagination, or were the cook’s eyes glistening?

“How could you be so reckless all the time? We were worried sick about you, and you don’t even have the decency to tell me that you’re alright?”

“I’m alright”, Zoro whispered, the sweet pressure of sleep still weighing on him.

The anger in Sanji’s eyes faded, his lips quivering as he held in a sob. He roughly rubbed his eyes with one hand. “I can’t believe how stupid you are. Why do I even worry about a stupid marimo like you?”

Zoro blinked. “You were worried about me?”

“No”, he stubbornly clung to his pride, although it was blatantly obvious that he didn’t mean it. Zoro felt a soft smile tugging at his lips. He lifted a hand with the little strength he had left and touched the cook’s cheek, startling him.

“Can you sing the song for me one more time?”

“What for?”, Sanji asked.

“I don’t know. I like it.”

Sanji looked uncertain in the way he crunched up his brow, a soft taint covering his cheeks. But then he let out a long sigh and picked up on the melody again, his voice producing the words in an effortless flow.

Zoro laid back and listened. Concentrated on it.

It felt as though the song took him away to a different sphere of existence altogether, making him light and his head floating in beautiful sleep-like bliss.

He felt the dreariness pulling at him again, dragging him deeper and deeper into the sweet embrace of nothingness. But he didn’t want to let go yet, didn’t want his ears to turn off, to stop hearing. He wanted to take in much more of Sanji’s voice, to truly listen, because honestly it could as well be the first and last chance he got to do this.

“Don’t stop”, he begged as Sanji’s voice grew quieter, his lines breaking apart.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Nah.” Zoro shook his head lightly. “Want to hear you sing some more.”

Sanji continued, his melody as sweet as chocolate melting on the tongue. Zoro closed his eyes once more, allowing the song to embrace him in its peacefulness.

“Why don’t you do this more often?”, Zoro asked when the song came to an end. He couldn’t fathom why such immaculate talent would be hidden from the world.

“I don’t know”, Sanji replied with a shrug. “I didn’t think anyone would take pleasure in hearing my crooked voice.”

“It’s beautiful”, Zoro corrected, his voice barely a whisper.

Sanji blinked down at him. “What did you say?”

“I said it’s beautiful.”

A vivid red color spread over Sanji’s cheeks as the realization hit him, and he was sure he hadn’t misheard the swordsman. “Shut up”, he hissed, avoiding eye-contact.

Zoro chuckled. “Should I ever find myself on my deathbed, I want your voice to be the last thing I hear.”

“Sure you didn’t just suffer a concussion?”, Sanji asked.

“Could be. If I have, just forget about it later.”

Sanji studied him for a moment. Zoro didn’t quite know what prompted him to open his arms, gesturing for the cook to lean down on him. Sanji’s eyes widened for a second, and although surprised, it felt like the most natural thing in the world when he laid his head carefully on Zoro’s chest, allowing himself to be hugged by strong arms.

“If you don’t want to sing for others”, Zoro suggested, “Why not sing for me from time to time?”

“Sure you want to waste your time on me?”, Sanji asked, half-jokingly.

“You’re the one most worth it to be wasting my time on.”

And so, in the dimly candle-lit room, engulfed by the quietness of the night, a soft lullaby continued to be sung.

[twig-tea]

The Almond Latte Fight in Knock Knock Boys Ep 9

@bengiyo mentioned to me that he was having trouble parsing what was going on with Almond when he shook off Latte at the table in a way that got Latte so mad, and spiralled the fight that they resolved this episode, and I've seen at least one other post expressing (hilariously, @mysterygrl20) confusion about it, so I figured I'd write out my thoughts (thanks also for the loving harassment @lurkingshan).

I really liked the way they set up this fight between Almond and Latte to be about their insecurities under the surface, rather than what they were ostensibly fighting about--and so they just went in circles until they got to a place where they could actually cut through the core issues.

We were reminded near the start of the episode that earlier in the show, Almond had been hurt by the assumptions that he'd been the one to record and post the video of Jumper. Also worth remembering that Latte specifically hurt Almond when he asked him if he was the one to release the video too.

After the class apologizes to Almond and Jumper for their assumptions, Almond and Latte clear up Almond's superstitious concerns about Latte having the birthmark, proving him to be not the man the fortune teller warned his mother he should stay away from after all.

They arrive to the table with Almond already embarrassed, cheeks burning, at having gotten such a good look at Latte's dick. They then find out that Jumper has a birthmark, and other indicators that he was the man his mother was trying to warn him to stay away from (I love the detail that Jumper's been told his birthmark is actually a sign of good fortune for him).

At this point, Latte uses the same words that Lookpeach used in her speech to the class to defend Almond and Jumper at the beginning o the episode in order to rub in that Almond was the one this time who made an assumption about Latte. But Almond is feeling sensitive at this moment, and rather than playing along with the teasing, he gets actually annoyed. I honestly am not sure if he's still feeling vulnerable from getting turned on in the bathroom stall and not wanting Latte all over him while he's still a little horny, or whether it's about being reminded that Latte didn't trust him before, or (this is my pet theory) that he doesn't like having his nose rubbed in the mistake he's been making for months in his assumption that the man to avoid was Latte, when it really was Jumper, or some mix of all of that--I think the show could have been more clear about his core issue here, but there were several buttons potentially being pushed. Either way, I think it's fair to say Almond does not enjoy feeling foolish, we've seen him lash out in moments where he's felt vulnerable before.

Latte, at the same time, is feeling sensitive as well at the realization that he was almost passed over because a fortune teller warned Almond about someone who wasn't even him, and so he keeps pushing. And when Almond yells at Latte to leave him alone, he triggers a fear of being left that Latte didn't even know was a fear he had. It's a perfect storm of vulnerabilities, and I think neither of them are consciously aware about what's motivating them in this moment. But Latte takes Almond's words literally, and leaves.

And then we get the circular fight scenes in which Almond tries to make up with Latte for what he said, Latte refuses to hear it, and then Almond gets mad because he didn't really do anything that wrong, so why should he have to work so hard to make up? And it takes them hearing one another say they love each other when they act out Lookpeach's play, that reminds them they care about one another and puts them in the mindset to actually open up and listen to one another. It's not my favourite plot device, but I like the bookend here that it's her words being recited by them that both start and end this fight.

And finally we land at the gorgeous pier scene, in which Latte admits that he was actually feeling really vulnerable about realizing he could believe in love if it's with Latte, and being afraid of giving in to that and then losing it. And Almond reassures Latte that he's in this for the long haul.

I do think that initial fight scene was a little unclear, and I've definitely done some filling in of the gaps that are my best guess at what the show was intending. That initial fight trigger did fall a little flat to me (as I mentioned above, I couldn't quite be certain what Almond was reacting to in particular). But the premise of a small, insignificant fight blowing up because both parties were feeling vulnerable, and then continuing to fight because they don't understand what it is they're actually fighting about, until they communicate about the core issue that's driving the argument? I absolutely loved that.

[poetry-protest-pornography]

I am usually very put-off by plots that hinge on miscommunication as the main source of conflict, but Cosmetic Playlover has me so invested.

Perhaps it's because it isn't exactly miscommunication, so much as it is a failure on both their parts to communicate much of anything, and when they do it is not in a way that the other understands.

Sahashi is forward and quick to claim Natsume, but it takes Natsume yelling at him that he hasn't even said that he likes him for Sahashi to verbalize his feelings. Now, he has clearly been communicating that he likes Natsume. He has quite literally staked his claim to the two men that he saw as potential rivals, bought Natsume a collar earrings to replace the ones he got as a reminder of his unrequited love and told him to wear them and remember who he belongs to.

Sahashi has been very loud about his feelings, but he hasn't communicated in a way that Natsume understands, or trusts. For all that Sahashi easily reads Natsume, he has grossly miscalculated his communication style/needs. He doesn't share about himself-- not even his work related accomplishments, which should be relevant to their shared employment -- which leaves Natsume feeling like he is distant and that Sahashi doesn't trust him, and therefore he is unreliable.

Natsume's need to become someone he feels deserves the attention of someone like Sahashi translates to him refusing to ask for help, or to reach out to Sahashi for encouragement or support, which leads to Sahashi feeling like Natsume doesn't trust or want him, and to eventually call out Natsume for his detrimental independence and how that is affecting him, which leads to Natsume lashing out and communicating that he wants to be worthy in the worst, harshest way possible, and hurting Sahashi (and himself).

We see Natsume have a lightbulb moment several times, where he thinks about what Sahashi is trying to communicate to him, and what he should say to him, but ultimately he shuts himself down in those moments, or lets them pass without addressing them with Sahashi.

Sahashi is playful and teasing, where Natsume needs things stated clearly (even though he refuses to do so himself), and Natsume is uncertain and insecure and doesn't believe himself worthy, so he refuses to let on any of those things lest he be proven right, when all Sahashi wants is to be able to take care of him and be trusted with Natsume's need, but he communicates that as a silly afterthought with the key, and then as a prelude to an ill timed scolding -- not hearing Natsume when he is trying to tell him what he feels for literally only the second time in their entire relationship.

It's frustrating watching them fail to just talk to each other, but in a way that has me eager for them to figure it out, instead of irritated that they haven't already.

[kettlequills]

Thinking about why we don't see Nica working with the other survivors, and it turned into a character study on Nica.

I think Nica and Andy are probably pretty bad for each other, actually. I feel they'd recognise a similar darkness in the other - being eager to torture another person is actually not something you do when you are fine, mentally stable, and thriving - and bond over that, but without a more even keel to drag them back they go a bit far (this is why they need Kyle, who has responded to her trauma very differently by becoming practical and outward-facing, trying to focus on maintaining some level of a normal life, unlike those two, who have a tendency to dwell, withdraw, hurt, and in Nica's case, manipulate and lie until she can't hold the pretence any longer and explodes). This darkness in Andy is something we see Kyle does not entertain - she refuses to respond to Andy making a comment about torturing Chucky in their first car ride appearance in S1, and she redirects their attention to their current goal, which is hunting and killing Chucky for good, rather than drawing it out.

All this to say, Andy gets Nica's obsessive need to find Tiffany and turn the tables on her, whereas Kyle gets that Nica simply deflects and moves on until she can no longer do that, but Both of them are mildly freaked out when she laughs like Chucky, acts erratic and downright gleeful in the ways she did at the trial and potentially really struggles adjusting and missing the familiarity of being a captive and having her life regimented, either as a patient in Lochmoor/Harrogate or a captive under Tiffany. I could see the stress of finally being free triggering some upsetting symptoms for her, e.g. her psychosis from Cult and Curse, but even if it doesn't, she is clearly unstable, hurting, and struggling to orient to life that doesn't revolve around destroying Tiffany. She knows some of Chucky's magic, she has spent a year living with Tiffany and him in her brain, and she Still maintains contact and affection with GG despite the fact they are a doll and have left the country, like, how much can she be trusted after that? I think at this point Nica is a box of trauma neither of them have the skills to actually help with, but convincing Nica to trust a psychiatrist is ... a tall order.

For that reason, I think Kyle would possibly mildly discourage Andy from getting too close to Nica, because she's likely to just make him worse by encouraging him to think about drawing out Chucky/Tiffany's agony rather than prioritising just killing them so they cannot hurt others anymore. She is sympathetic and tries to help Nica, but I think she is probably pretty aware that Nica has shit going on and would absolutely manipulate Kyle to further her own aims, because Nica's ability to trust and form connections with others has been severely damaged. She likes Nica, and is willing to help out ... but she's aware that Nica is putting her own goals first always, and that if Kyle doesn't necessarily agree with those goals, Nica will just lie to her about it. She'd be a lot less forgiving of Nica stranding her at a gas station than Andy, for example. Plus, add Andy's self sacrificing nature to Nica's bloodyminded determination to destroy Tiffany at any cost and things could end badly. Allies - but not trusted.

Nica's goals are loosely aligned with theirs in that she's against Tiffany, but her focus and her methods become myopic. She doesn't want to kill her right away, she isn't focused on stopping Chucky. She just wants to hurt Tiffany until Tiffany dies. Nica saying she wants to torture and kill Tiffany herself and then being suddenly content with allowing her to go through a legal process and be sentenced instead demonstrates Nica's mind changing rapidly about her plans and her getting overwhelmed by her hatred depending on how triggered she is by Tiffany's presence. While in Tiffany's presence (on the phone), she's desperate to hurt her any way she can, but when away from Tiffany, she makes the arguably more sensible choice to get her arrested, which is harder for Tiffany to escape from. We see this loss of control when she shoots Glen and also at the trial, when she assists Tiffany's lawyer's argument that Tiffany is insane, and undermines her own, by losing her temper when Tiffany says she loves her. Nica yells that Tiffany is "fucking crazy" with eyes only on Tiffany - again, seeking to hurt Tiffany by rejecting her rather than able to continue as she began, wherein she named Tiffany as "Jennifer Tilly" and represented her as in control of her actions.

She wants to hurt Tiffany, she's clever enough to make that psychological harm instead, but she doesn't really care about how she gets there, it's just important that she does. Maybe the others or GG convinced her to just watch Tiffany die in her execution instead, maybe Nica decided herself that it was enough - we see that at the execution, Nica is making an effort to prioritise her connections with others (relating GG's message) rather than her own revenge and hurting Tiffany, which I think she can only do after having had that long distance from Tiffany and being on the cusp of her own victory, but she clearly struggles with this and pretty obviously goes for the best gut shot she can afterwards. She instantly tries to chase Tiffany when Tiffany escapes and is simply vocally frustrated with a man dying in front of her because he is in her way rather than displaying any concern about his life (counter to S1, where she prioritises trying to help a captive in the hotel room escape over fucking over Chucky and Tiffany) and she goes so far as to physically crawl after Tiffany despite the impossibility of actually catching up to Tiffany like that - showing that Nica's intense desire for vengeance still overwhelms her rational sense and abilities to care for others. Given that Tiffany does manage to escape, I can see this forming another split between Nica and the others where Nica is singlemindedly focused on tracking her. She hasn't been the most careful about collateral damage while doing so.

From the other survivors perspective, I'm sure there's some doubt whether she actually meant to shoot Glen or not when she fired on Tiffany (I truly believe she didn't mean to, but also that she wasn't thinking clearly, and taking the opportunity to try and hurt Tiffany regardless of two people standing close by, very little gun training and having poor aim with her hooks shows you exactly what she is prioritising, which I think Kyle and Andy would recognise). She then lets Tiffany go/Tiffany escapes with Glen and Glenda, while Nica is visibly struggling to process what she has just done, which again, implies she was acting on a very dangerous reflex and cannot be trusted to think rationally about risk when confronted with Tiffany. Again, I think Andy/Kyle are more willing to understand accidents happen, especially with their own risky behaviour (shooting Chucky when he's being held by the little girl during their "census taking" comes to mind) but Kyle and Andy are clearly both weapons trained, and Nica is not. Andy literally went to military school, lol. I doubt they want to have to worry about Nica accidentally hurting or killing someone else or even them while she is focused on trying to take any opportunity to hurt Tiffany. Equally, she lets Caroline, who she knows is an ally of Chucky's and travels with him, drive off in the Pontiac (though she has bugged the car) and goes to hunt for Tiffany instead. There doesn't seem to have been any communication from Nica about the first time she spotted Caroline at Tiffany's arrest, either.

Nica demonstrates that given the choice between hunting Tiffany or Chucky, she will choose Tiffany, at any cost. This is regardless of the fact that Caroline is in active danger travelling with Chucky in front of her eyes, and Tiffany is, at present to Nica's knowledge, focused on her own survival and equally has a much trickier job escaping as a famous face than Caroline does which will require her to have to lay low and possibly minimise her threat for a while. But Nica is not focused on ending Chucky and Tiffany's threat and helping the other survivors like Kyle and Andy are, she is focused on her own revenge.

She cannot relax until Tiffany gets what she deserves, it is her goal above all others and it overrides her capacities to care for the welfare of others, and this makes her dangerous if she perceives someone getting in the way of it. Resultingly, the other survivors cannot trust her to have their backs, and they don't have the connection with her that Kyle and Andy have with each other that would allow them to forgive anything she did to deprioritise them. This results in Nica kind of being alone and unsupervised for the first time in over five years (arguably longer, considering her home situation in Curse: the last time Nica was likely trusted to be independent was during her stint at college) without much support beyond the practicalities that maybe Kyle/Andy is happy to assist with ... which is why I think we see her turning to stalking Tiffany to have somewhere to put her energy instead of trying to make a normal life and recover, and why we don't really see her forming any connections with anyone else.

[maya-matlin]

it's sort of ironic that lucas and brooke had more in common later in life then him and peyton they had their own separate goals dreams and wanted a family their relationship matured over time where his and peyton stayed stagnant in a superficial happy fake bubble as soon as realty and communication needed to happen there was always issues nether character could grow together and honestly I don't see them endgame in the long run lucas actions showed he was in awe and had more respect for brooke as a separate person where as peyton he saw as a fantasy not who she really was that's why he just expected her to just want to jump and marry without any depth or conversations about where their relationship is not just some we are meant to be nonsense or the pressure of what other people perceived their relationship everyone constantly went on about him wanting peyton and they are meant to be I think that's just because they have to justify why he and peyton hurt other people and themselves together they had to be different people then who they was around each other

Yeah, the way Lucas and Peyton's relationship developed did not work for me at all. So much of it revolved around LP having to be together in the end to come full circle from the pilot or the fact Lucas repeatedly saved Peyton. Their goals didn't necessarily align unless you consider that Peyton wanted Lucas to be happy, and Lucas wanted the same thing. They both put his wants and needs ahead of Peyton's. Brooke at least felt like a person who independently of Lucas wanted similar things while also going about them differently. Peyton was just.. extremely desperate for Lucas during seasons 4 and 5. Sure, she also wanted to run a record label and discover new musicians, but it honestly came across like Peyton was extremely fixated on Lucas and had it in her head that she could only achieve happiness if he married her. So because she couldn't afford to have Lucas walk away again, she literally jumped at a mediocre proposal without the awareness that she was one of three potential wives. And like, on Lucas's end, his dream didn't necessarily include Peyton. He had a desire to start a family and post Brucas 2.0, the woman in his life didn't need to be a specific person. She just had to be willing to say yes when he needed her to say yes. I truly feel like a part of Lucas settled in a big way after losing Brooke. As for the communication problems, I agree. Nothing was resolved because Lucas had a lot he wasn't willing to voice and things he absolutely refused to hold himself accountable for. Unfortunately, Peyton was not going to be the person who fought Lucas on this. The narrative during season 5 was that Peyton telling Lucas she wasn't ready for marriage at nineteen years old forced him to break up with her and then apparently hide his heart for years after that because the pain was that severe. Bullshit, but whatever. In season 5, Lucas doesn't seem like he's suffering without Peyton. He's literally fine and happy to marry Lindsey, and then again when he makes Brooke a priority and chooses to be her emotional support system with Angie. Like, Lucas holds a grudge against Peyton and keeps her at a distance, but in my opinion the writing was telling us through multiple other characters rather than showing that Lucas still loved Peyton and that a Lucas/Peyton endgame was inevitable. Lucas essentially bumbles his way to "realizing" that he should marry Peyton after all, and I'm sure the fact only she would have jumped at that dead eyed airport proposal had nothing to do with it.

Needless to say, I also think divorce is probably an inevitability with them. Once you peel back the idea of how epic the relationship is supposed to be and both of their separate issues, there isn't a lot there. At first, I'm sure they were blissfully happy because they finally got their dreams. But after that, day to day, I don't think happily ever after is going to feel as satisfying as they'd hoped. I choose to believe Peyton is eventually going to realize how much she compromised for Lucas and (sadly) I get the feeling Lucas will just end up cheating again because he can't admit out loud that he's not happy. And if he can cheat on his serious girlfriend of three years, he's going to cheat on Peyton too now that she's no longer the forbidden, easy option. I hate thinking so lowly of Lucas, but Lucas towards the end of his time on the show was a selfish guy who lost any bit of character growth he'd had during the high school years. Until he manages to work through his own shit, things won't get better.

Needless to say, I agree 100% about Brooke. It sounds ridiculous considering his messy history of breaking her heart back in high school, but during seasons 2 and 3 I truly think Lucas had good intentions and loved and wanted Brooke over Peyton. Lucas fought for Brooke and put himself completely out there in a way that he pretty much never does with Peyton past season 1. Lucas loved Brooke's independence. He loved her bravery and her soft side. There were times when he underestimated how much she needed his emotional support because unlike his relationship with Peyton, it wasn't so reliant on Lucas rescuing her. But we see by the end of season 5 that Lucas has become more in tune with Brooke's emotions and once again found a way to be her friend without any agenda much like during season 2. Whenever I try to imagine Lucas and Brooke in a similar position as Lucas and Peyton during season 5 including the missing years, I literally can't. I don't believe that Lucas would have ever held a years long grudge against Brooke for rejecting his proposal or that Brooke would have come back to him in such a way where she was handing over all of the power in their relationship. Why? Because Lucas and Brooke were so much more than an idea of how life was supposed to play out or something the people in their lives spoke of with such reverence than never quite lived up to expectations. It sounds simple because it really is. Lucas and Brooke were in love, and that was that. At its best, their love inspired some of the best in each other. They were truly equals with both similarities and differences. Plus, the passion. Even during season 5 where he's supposed to be harboring this deep love for Peyton, there are still moments with Brooke that outshine them and make zero sense if there aren't still romantic feelings on Lucas's end

Or this entire scene

I don't know that any of this reply had a point or even a coherent idea, but all I can say is that Lucas and Peyton being endgame hurt both characters. Peyton becomes weaker. Lucas is more selfish. It celebrates this idea that everything that happened was worth it because they got a happy ending, even though they to had to crush Brooke, Jake, Lindsey and Julian in the process. The relationship isn't exciting. The chemistry is severely lacking during most seasons. The entire Lucas/Peyton relationship is endlessly frustrating to watch because I like both Lucas and Peyton separately and time and time again, I revisit this show and watch them ruin their best chances of true happiness with other people all because of Lucas's savior complex and nostalgia for the pilot.

[keysmashingfantasies]

Heyo! Could you maybe do a story about Chishiya and reader. Something about the both of them getting into a huge fight over something and they start avoiding each other. After a bit both come to realise they really miss each other but are to stubborn to do anything. Chishiya finally cracks and decides to tell reader but before he could they go into a game and reader avoids him until they end up getting hurt nearly dying. So he tells them how he feels but reader ends up surviving and the go back to the roof and talk and they confess and he asks her out and lots of fluff. Sorry my English is terrible.

i sure can! thank you for asking (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠). and your english is fine, don't worry!

ps: it's a bit different from the request but i hope that's ok with you.

ps2: this is so fucking long im sorry.

potential tw: mentions overdose and lethal dosages, several medications and substances, syringes, medical inaccuracy in general. anon, if this is triggering for you please contact me again so i can write something different for you.

The thing in the new world is that there was no way of telling the time accurately. Unless you were in a timed game, there were only sunrises and sunsets to rely on. So you went by feeling. The thumping of the bass music by the pool, for instance, even when people were just starting to come back from the games, felt like it had been going on for days. It felt like you and Chishiya were stuck on a fight for about the same amount of time, his smug attitude combined with the music was enough to make your head hurt and you wanted to strangle him.

"You have to realize you can't sacrifice yourself for strangers like that", he said. You sighed for the nth time since the conversation started.

"It wasn't a sacrifice! I'm right here, am I not?", you said. Chishiya's anxiety was on an all time high, which on the outside translated to him being furious. He couldn't believe he almost lost you.

"You could not be! What, you decided to be a hero now?", his face looked calm for now, but he had red splotches on his chest and going up his neck, the vein on the side of it bulging under the hot skin, he started to move his hands around inside his pockets.

"It was a calculated risk! I knew there were no chance of me dying, Chishiya!", you were exasperated. You knew Chishiya had a habit and a hobby of treating beach residents like children but you thought you and Kuina were an exception, that you got an ounce of respect. Apparently, you were wrong.

"There's always chance of death here. If that was a calculated risk then you sure are stupid". His face slightly fell. He immediately regretted it. If your anger felt like a boiling pot on the verge of overflowing before, now it felt like a heavy block of ice on your chest. You wanted to hurt him. Chishiya was indifferent and nonchalant about a lot of things. But he despised stupidity.

"What did you just called me?", you said, your voice low. And if it wasn't for the mind numbing song being done, only to be quickly replaced with another, Chishiya was sure he wouldn't have heard you.

"You're not thinking straight. I guess I was mistaken about you and how useful you can be", he regained composure very quickly. He didn't repeat the word again, though.

"Is that what I'm good for? Being useful to you?", you voice was pure venom. Chishiya gave the fakest smirk in his life but it worked. He refused to let you win. You were fuming beneath all that ice.

"I don't know if that's all you're good for. But it's true", he shrugged his shoulders. It was your time to smile, but it did not reach your eyes, the light inside of them dimming.

"Then good luck for you and Kuina to get out of here without me. I hope you don't throw her under a bus too", you spat, leaving him behind on the roof.

-

You had to pull some strings and kiss some ass but you managed to go to a game on a whole different district than Chishiya, rather than stay close to him. If you happened to land on the same game and saw his face, you were certain that given the chance you'd kill him. That's what you told yourself when you started to avoid him after the fight a few days prior.

Honestly, as much as you were furious, you know seeing him would hurt more than refresh your anger. And you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

You landed on a game of clubs with four Beach girls and two strangers. You all entered a white room, unsettlingly bright and clean with one table and one monitor on one of the walls of what used to be a hospital. You knew Chishiya would know what to do and the thought of him made your face twist in disgust. You stood around a circular table with what looked like all sorts of medical containers. Droppers, syringes, beakers, flasks of medication arranged in a circle around a roulette. You accessed the strangers again. For the looks of it, father and son, that landed on this new world by accident. Good luck with that, you thought. At least they're in a clubs game for now.

Registration closed. Game: Pharmacy. Difficulty: 7 of clubs. In the table there are dosages of different substances in various degrees of toxicity, from harmless to lethal. The players will take turns spinning the roulette to decide what they should consume. Then, the remaining six will decide the course of action. The game objective is to finish the whole 7 containers one way or another, but they all must be consumed. If you try to empty the containers in any other way, is game over. You can lose players in this game, but only unanimous decisions will count. You will have one hour.

First, the blonde girl on the right is selected first to spin the roulette. The robotic voiced ringed again: Player one: 3500mg of cough syrup.

Then the boy. He looked about 18. Player two: 100mg of cyanide. His father started sobbing immediately, a sound you tried your best to drawn out. You understood though. The boy weighed 60kg at best.

Then one of the other girls that came with you, one with pastel blue hair, that was standing across from you in the circular table was next. Player three: 700mg of pure mercury.

Then the father was next, he sniffled and turned the roulette with a weak arm, absolutely devastated. The kid looked more concerned for his life then him. Player four: 800mg of sugar. He gave a humorless laugh and banged his fist on the table, but the boy visibly relaxed. Only in the borderlands. But you understood. If it came down to it, you'd rather see Chishiya safe than be safe yourself.

Then another girl was next. You didn't know how she wasn't cold with her sleeveless pink top. She was shaking when she turned the wheel but it most definitely looked like nerves rather than the chilly room. Player five: 60mg of tigersnake venom.

Then it was your turn. You felt like you were about to throw up, spinning the the roulette with as much force as you could, as if that'd help with anything. Player six: 24mg of tetrodotoxin. Shit, you thought.

Then the last girl, with stripey blonde highlights on her hair. She had shed a few tears. Player seven: 20mg of ricin.

You have one hour.

The father immediately panicked.

"My son is not taking anything. If the rest of you don't take it all, I'll kill you all myself", he spat.

"It's in the rules that the decisiond must be unanimous. If you kill us without taking our votes into consideration, you'll die as well", you deadpanned, only to make an expression of distaste next. You spoke like Chishiya.

"What will we do then? Just do it and then what? Wait to see if it kills us?", blue haired girl broke down, hugging herself.

"No, maybe there's another way...", the pink top girl said.

"YEAH? LIKE WHAT?", the older man yelled, promptly initiating a ruckus. They were all screaming, crying, talking over each other in the small space, the pounding headache you had on the beach was returning. If that was a calculated risk then you sure are stupid.

"EVERYONE QUIET!", you yelled. "Please, okay? Maybe... maybe there's something we're missing", you said, resting your trembling hands on the cool glass of the table.

"Like what? You know what poison you got? Tetrodotoxin. People die every year from eating that. Just a few grams and BAM!", the father was cackling. "If I'm going to lose my son then I'll make sure to kick you while you're dying".

"Dad!", the son looked horrified. This world really takes the worst of people. The father calmed down while being reprimanded by his son and the other girls.

"What did you say?", you asked. You were so angry to be asking yourself what would Chishiya do. But even with him being an absolute asshole, he was smart. You shook your head again. "...then you sure are stupid".

"I said I'll kick-"

"No, you moron. Before that", you asked.

"A few grams?", he looked genuinely confused.

"Yeah... That. It's poison but... to kill us, it needs a certain amount, right?", you said. "What if we share?"

Everyone agreed immediately, except for the father, who needed maybe 15 more minutes of persuasion. Even if by the end of it, just his son had enough patience to deal with him.

"Everything is measured", the boy said. "Maybe this is what we are supposed to do after all!", the boy was so optimistic it made you sad.

"Okay. Let's start". You took the small dropper from the table.

"We'll start with yours?", the pink girl asked.

"You're right. Let's start with the less lethal first. If we get out quick enough we can-", you took a glance at the boy and his father. "We can make ourselves puke as quick as possible. And find a pharmacy". You didn't have the heart to say you had access to a doctor in front of the two non Beach members. "Sugar first. You, are you good at math?", you asked the boy. After everything was calculated, each one of you ate the dosage of sugar as quick as possible, the overwhelming sweetness making you clench your jaw.

"Next-", you started.

"Cough syrup?", asked the ricin girl.

"Yeah, I think so", you took turns passing the beaker around, taking tentative sips to make sure the liquid was evenly distributed. If you weren't overwhelmed with the sweetness before, you sure was now.

"What now?", asked blue haired girl, her eyes going glassy and big.

"Mercury next", you said.

"100 milligrams for each?", asked the girl. "Are you sure?"

"No. But it's better than only you taking 700mg all by yourself, no?", you said, and she nodded decidedly.

After it was consumed, you looked around. "Everyone ok?", besides uneasy looks, no one had collapsed yet which you took as success for the time being. "We have to be quick now, before our body starts processing it".

-

"Take her inside! Take her inside now!", pleaded the girls, while Tatta carried your limp body on his arms to Ann's autopsy room, followed by a small mob of curious people.

Chishiya, that was on the lobby worried sick at your game taking so long blanched immediately seeing your limp body. You and the four desperate girls following Tatta covered from what it seemed splotches of your own puke. Fortunately, the militants decided to be useful for once and disperse the crowd. Chishiya, an executive member, was let in.

-

Up close it was even scarier. He was used to seeing people in these conditions at the hospital but never someone he cared about. He went in and out of consciousness it seemed, his body frozen and eyes zeroed in on your closed ones while the blue haired girl sterically tried to explain to Ann what had happened, her latex gloved fingers down your throat to make you puke more.

"This man... Poison... Convincing him... Unanimous... The son...Really sick... Two minutes... Took what was left... Saved our lives".

If Chishiya wasn't already absolutely destroyed, he definitely would be now. This was the final blow to his conscience. He insulted you, pushed you away, let you go on to a game without him or Kuina. So you strayed from his sight and now you were passed out on a table, covered in puke. Just because he was too much of a coward to just tell you he was worried because he loved you.

"She's not puking anymore. Now we just have to take care of her and wait. Tatta, take her out of here. Girls, I'll take care of you next".

"I'll take her. Tatta, I'll take her to my room", With each one of your limp arms around the neck of each man, they slowly managed to take you into the elevator until Chishiya's room's floor. He put you on the bed on your side carefully and forced himself to not even blink as much, waiting for any reaction out of you, checking your heartbeat every 10 seconds. After an hour and some crying he decided to gingerly clean you up with a moist towel, taking off your dirty clothes and rinsing your mouth delicately with water, sitting next your naked body on the bed and taking one of your hands in his, placing it on his lap and playing with your fingers, one of his thumbs pressed firmly into your pulse.

"I'm so sorry. You're not dumb. You're not dumb at all. You're just brave. Braver than me. I shouldn't have said that, I'm a coward, I should've admitted to you and myself that I loved you and spared you from this. Please wake up so I can look you in the eyes when I apologize", he looked at your naked body in the moonlight, your face looked serene despite everything. You looked like an angel. For a moment he tried to pretend you had just made love. That you were asleep dreaming of the life you'd start together out of that world. He rested his elbows on his knees, dropping his head and pressing your hand sandwiched between his on his sweaty forehead.

"...shiya", you groaned.

-

Everything hurt. Your head, your joints, your throat. Your limbs felt like they were made of lead and you had to make a conscious effort to move even a pinky. Then everything came rushing back.

"Y/N? Y/N, open your eyes. Open. Please. It's me, Chishiya", a voice you knew all too well spoke.

To the dismay of your pounding head, you opened your eyes, but even with the lights off you still felt awful.

"What are you doing here?", you slurred, coughing a bit from your raw throat. Your mouth tasted like something crawled inside it and died.

Instantly a bottle of cold water was pressed to your lips, and you tried your best to glare at Chishiya through your drowsy state while he helped you drink. He looked rough, like he hadn't slept days and had been crying a lot.

"You been crying?", you asked, voice to weak to go above a whisper.

"I was worried about you", he said, placing the bottle back on the bedside table without looking you in the eyes.

"You worried about me? Why? Thought you said I was dumb and not useful for your scheming and whatnot. What changed?", he could tell you were angry, even if your voice was monotone.

"I changed. I loved you before all the same. I just...", he paused for a moment. You opened a weak smile and Chishiya was suddenly on the verge of tears again. "I'm sorry. This was all my fault. I just-", he cupped your face.

"How is what happened to me your fault?", you asked.

"I should've been there. With you. But even when I wasn't, you made me proud. I love you", he said.

"It's not your fault. I had to go be a hero again. Not smart", you closed your eyes, the weak lighting finally getting the best of you.

"Very smart. The smartest in this whole place", he said softly.

"Besides you?", you chuckled before coughing again.

"Yeah, that", he gave you a wobbly smile you didn't see.

"Chishiya... I love you. And I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have avoided you", you said. "Come hold me please? I owe you a kiss, promise I'll pay as soon as I can brush my teeth".

Chishiya held you to his chest gingerly, kissing the top of your head. He'd never leave you out of sight again.

[kings-highway]

hi, i saw that you’ve been sharing your thoughts on hq rarepairs! what do you think about oisuga?

mhmhmmhmmhmhmh 🤔

honestly one of my least favourite haikyuu ships. I actually really like IwaOiDaiSuga as a polyship, and Oisuga is always the weak link holding me back lol. BUT that being said I do see why people like them, so...

Suga, absolutely, buys Oikawa flowers. I dont think it's something anyone else had done for Oikawa, and he barely understands it, but after big games, or before dates, or on special days, birthdays, Suga shows up with a small boquet of flowers, or a single rose, and is very consistent. Oikawa unwittingly falls in love with this trait which is why it hurts so severely when he finds out that Suga will mercilessly stop doing this while they're fighting. It's like being stabbed in the gut when Suga shows up for their date without flowers and Oikawa KNOWS its because of XYZ fight from the weekend they havent made up for.

They definitely help calm each other down. Its counterintuitive to a lot of their friends, but they actually end up tempering each other's louder qualities, and can spend quite a while just curled up, legs tangled, reading books together.

Suga is OBSESSED with Oikawa's hair and won't shut up about it. "I cant believe this is your natural colour" "baby please get off my head."

Also Suga would absolutely BALL when Oikawa moved to Argentina. Like... just the most obscene sobbing mess making a scene. Not even funny.

Oikawa is the BEST gift giver for Suga specifically but this is nintey percent because he has no standards for himself and with straight up pay Asahi/Daichi/Kiyoko to find out what Suga wants. He refuses to not make his birthday/christmas exactly what he wants.

Providing you subscribe to a headcanon where Oikawa has money - he spoils the SHIT out of Suga. Like he himself is a bit of a diva, but he projects his entire diva energy onto this little boyfriend of is and insists Suga gets everything he wants. EVERYTHING. He's fully aware he's doing it. Its intentional. He wants Suga to know.

Overall Ratings:

For me, Personal Interest: 1/10

Concept/Potential: 6/10? I see the vision but I struggle to see the vision

[triscribe]

History Reversed with sequel trilogy Ahsoka, Luke, Ezra and students dropped back in the Clone Wars 👀

Can’t hide being excited about this!

/slaps a snippet down on the table

They matched their breathing, slow and steady, shields unfurling one by one. When each cautious pause failed to reveal Dark Siders noticing them, the two Jedi reached a little further, a little wider, looking for the one light that could potentially save them faster than any other in the galaxy.

They found someone else first.

A mind, a familiar one, caught hold of Ahsoka’s questing reach. Warmth bloomed down a long disused thread, and her next breath caught in her throat. Ezra’s presence pulled back, startled, but Ahsoka couldn’t bear to retreat. Not from him.

The not-so-distant Jedi quickly sensed something wrong; she could practically hear him handing out new orders, altering the actions of those around him. An entire collection of lights in the Force changed direction, surprise sweeping through several of them, but matched by an easy willingness to adjust course and come investigate.

Not a minute later, a Star Destroyer dropped out of hyperspace.

Ezra yelped, jerking forward to try and grab their ship’s steering yoke, for all the good it would do. But Ahsoka stopped him, one calm hand on the man’s shoulder, as she stared through the viewscreen- 

-at a Republic vessel.

---

“We’ve got them in the tractor beam, sir!”

“Good. Please inform the commander I will meet him in our starboard hangar bay.” Without a moment to lose, he spun on his heel and left the bridge, headed straight for the nearest lift. Perhaps the speed was a touch undignified for a Jedi, but he could feel something wrong with the one who’d reached out. With her, and the half dozen further minds tucked into that small ship, all of them scared and hurting, wary at his presence rather than relieved.

Something terrible had happened, and Plo Koon needed to know what.

Wolffe fell into step with him as the Jedi exited his lift, both of them moving swiftly through three different corridors before emerging into the designated bay. “We have any idea what happened, sir? Last I heard, the five oh first were headed to Ryloth to help break the blockade.”

“So I thought as well, Wolffe,” Plo murmured, coming to a halt. “So I thought as well.” The deep hum of the tractor beam died off, and the small spacecraft they’d pulled aboard settled to the floor with a heavy thump. Thanks to a rather large amount of damage along the hull, one of its landing gears refused to deploy, so the poor ship tipped at an odd angle that barely allowed the ramp to drop open.

But open it did, and a moment later, bare feet descended.

Plo felt his heart stutter.

Too tall. Too old, a fully grown togruta, compared to the energetic youngling he so adored. Too worn around the edges, in a scorched undertunic and mud-spattered sleep pants, unfamiliar kyber crystals singing from the lightsabers tucked into her waistband. But it was, undeniably, Ahsoka.

[moonspirit]

in one of the anon asks you said, annie has a harder time expressing herself which makes me think she probably maintains a lot of distance with amin so as to not hurt him or get hurt by him inadvertently. while he gives her space he also feels lonely in the relationship especially when he is shouldering the weight of the world. I image he confesses this to annie and she starts to show more support by getting more involved in his work and backing him subtly in rooms full of old powerful men dissing armin for being young and polite and not manly enough. would love to think annie putting someone in place so tactfully that people have a new found respect for her strength of character!

Hi anon!

So tbh I think there's a lot of potential for heavy angst in the beginning of Aruani's relationship; they may have confessed to each other on the boat and then reunited on Fort Salta but that doesn't mean heading into their new relationship is going to be easy or smooth sailing by any means.

Annie does have a hard time expressing herself, preferring physical signals over vocalizing what she wants/feels - and even then, it's quite possible that she thinks along the lines of "I betrayed him once in the past, I'm bound to do it again" and therefore avoids him to a great extent, keeping him from breaching her space in the process. Apart from those moments when the desire for physical touch and love overpowers her, their relationship is possibly one that functions on a lot of "emotional distance".

And this does hurt and confuse Armin, and he'll never say it. As much as he appreciates it when she keeps him close, it's words of affirmation he really needs. He's lonely and scared because he's still too young and inexperienced to bear the burden of repairing what's left of the world and Annie refusing to allow him into her heart is very painful. But he'll never say it. Because "I put her in that crystal for four years, I have no right to ask anything of her".

The way I see it, they go through several low points, each one progressively worse, before something gives and both realize that something has to change, someone has to change (both, really) and things finally start to look up from that point onwards.

In later stages of their relationship, Annie's definitely dissing rude old men in meeting rooms even before they so much as open their mouths to say something condescending about Armin. She's always been sharp-tongued - she can finally get to use it for good purposes (Armin's the good purpose xD)

Even otherwise, I deeply love the idea that she gains much respect for her blunt and realistic approach to problems and issues - for being Annie Leonhardt, and not considered just a background Ambassador.

[doom-dreaming]

The More The Merrier: Ch. 1 - Revelation

“There’s a rumor going around that we’re a couple.”

The comment comes out of nowhere, but Kelly is used to the way her brother’s mind works, so she doesn’t ask for clarification. “Whoever started it obviously doesn't know anything about us. Besides, you’re not my type.”

“Didn't know you had one.”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “But not many people on this boat fit the bill.” She’s expecting the conversation to stop there. It doesn't.

“So, who does?”

Kelly levels a flat glare at him. “You'd give me shit about it if I told you.”

“Would not.”

Oh, John was in rare form. Honestly, secretly, Kelly's happy to see him like this. She holds out, knowing he’ll go for the bait. “I’m not saying anything.”

“Bet I can guess.”

“Knock yourself out.” Hook, line, sinker.

He pauses. Cocks his head. “...what about me isn’t your type?”

“Too quiet.”

“You want loud?”

“I want conversational.”

He looks mildly offended. “We have conversations. We’re having one now.”

“We’ve known each other for forty-five years.”

“...fine.” He moves on. “I don't see you going for anyone who's not a Spartan.”

“Conditional,” Kelly corrects. “But you're mostly right.”

He falls silent, studying her as if he’ll be able to see an answer written somewhere on her face.

“Don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself,” she deadpans.

He huffs the closest thing to a laugh Kelly’s heard from him in a long time, but doesn’t speak again for several minutes.

Kelly returns to what she’d been doing, content to let him puzzle it out. It was good for him, he needed a trivial distraction. And while it was true there were a handful of people onboard the Infinity that Kelly could reasonably classify as “her type,” chances were slim that John would actually guess any of them, much less—

“...Palmer.” It isn’t a question.

Kelly’s head snaps up so fast her jaw pops.

John, irritatingly smug, sits back and crosses his arms. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“How the hell—”

“We’ve known each other for forty-five years,” he parrots, cutting her off. “You should ask if she and Lasky are looking for a third.”

Oh. Rare form indeed.

“Word around the ship is that Roland’s the third,” Kelly mutters. “Must’ve seen whatever you and Cortana had going on and thought it looked fun.”

John refuses to grace that with a reply. “...should ask if they’re looking for a fourth, then.”

Kelly snorts. “Lasky wouldn’t make it out alive. Not interested in him though.” A few seconds of silence pass. Unfortunately for Kelly, it’s more than enough time to start seriously considering making this bad idea a reality. “Maybe I should take her out for a drink. See what happens.”

“Worst she says is no,” John quips.

“Well, we already know she’s into older men. Maybe she’s into older women too. A girl can hope, yeah?”

“Hope for what?” Linda crosses between them as she enters the room.

“Kelly’s asking Palmer out for drinks.”

“Sounds fun. Am I invited?”

“...he means on a date, Lin.”

Linda fixes her sister with a stare that could bore through hull-plating. “I said what I said.”

“Wait, are you trying to poach my potential girlfriend?”

“No. I was thinking we'd share.”

[melonteee]

First I really would like to thank you for your amazing work, it’s thanks to your videos that I finally kicked myself into catching up on OP. I don’t regret it the slightest, thank you for dragging me back into my life-long mad obsession, it really feels like coming home lmao.

Your Law video in particular really punched me in the guts, your analysis really shed a new light on him for me and now I’m obsessed with him. I was thinking about the potential place of guilt in Law’s quest of avenging Cora, especially survivor’s guilt and it's something that is worth mentioning I think. I noticed that Law blames himself a lot in his flashback, saying at several occasions that Cora’s been hurt because of him, and also in the light novel, where he loses himself in “what if”, where guilt eats him alive to the point of having nightmares and even telling himself than if he hadn’t met Cora then Cora would still be alive. That’s such a sad thing to think.

For survivors who suffer from this kind of ptsd, the mere fact of being alive is a constant source of guilt and anxiety. Law probably doesn’t feel worthy of living over the sacrifice of Cora, feels responsible for his death and overly blames his whole existence for it. His already existing feelings of worthlessness (induced by Doffy’s teaching methods, the internalized rejection due to amber lead and the emotional neglect he suffered from) and this overwhelming guilt definitely feed into each other in a vicious circle. This leads him to this need of constantly trying to make sense of his survival and his existence, like trying to pay penance and justify being alive. This is why he came to overburdening himself with the responsibility of avenging Cora’s death, and why he was so self-destructive while doing so. Because there’s also a strong process of identification to the deceased, as a coping mechanism. The survivors have this need to mirror the suffering the deceased went through, it’s a way for them to feel closer to the dead, like if they want to join them in death. It’s the survivor’s attempt to regain his own identity and to reduce the guilt and the psychological distress. I can definitely see that in Law, in how he made Corazon his whole identity, and how he was very willing to die to achieve his quest. There’s definitely a martyr complex going on there. He launched his whole-ass plan at 26 years old, same age Cora died, and I refuse to believe this is a coincidence. It's like he was forbidding himself to live longer than Cora did. And to think that he had all this simmering in him for basically half of his life...that's insane.

Anyway to me this guilt plays a lot in Law’s dedication to Cora and his obsession in avenging him. I also think about how he felt responsible for dragging Luffy into his mess and how he was willing to die as a penance. For me it is also one of the things that definitively separate Law from Doffy on a fundamental level. Because Doffy never has shown the slightest amount of guilt for everything he did, and while he might feel regrets for having killed his brother, regrets are different than remorses.

I’m sorry that was a long one. Told you I was obsessed. I hope the read was interesting anyway!

This is an amazing read anon! I don't have much else to say other than I totally agree! Law's character totally explores survivor's guilt, even if not said outright. It hits double hard considering not ONLY has he gotten this guilt from Corazon dying, but from being the ONLY survivor of Flevance town as well.

Robin was similar in this case, thinking her life was somewhat expendable and 'allowing' herself to die. The only thing is, Robin very much DIDN'T want to, she just saw no way to be ABLE to live. Her mother told her she must live, and Robin only found the will to KEEP living and being ALLOWED to live due to the Strawhats.

Law, on the other hand, was seemingly ready to die from the get go. At 10, he accepted his death from white lead poisoning - expecting to die at 13. Then, after Corazon saved him, Law fully expected to die at 26 with his fight against Doflamingo.

Law has never been able to grasp his own life in his hands, it feels as if he's had this idea he SHOULDN'T be alive and - since he IS alive - he must be alive for SOMETHING. Which is why when Sengoku tells him that ALL Corazon would want is for Law to LIVE, the way LAW wants, it was a big thing for Law!

Law's never had the thought that maybe he can just...exist. Maybe he doesn't need to be alive for a reason. There's truly an aspect of survivor's guilt in such an idea.

BUT now, thanks to Luffy and the people around him, Law's managed to break away from this line of thought. Law is truly starting to live for himself now, and it's wonderful to see!

[paragonrobits]

thinking about dragons as a general kind of creature-type that shows up in many different forms but i can't decide between any of the following and I would welcome suggestions on how to incorporate them

Dragon as a common creature and animal; they're smart, they might be pets and domesticated working breeds, but they're explicitly not sapient. come in a wide variety of goofy shapes and forms, and may occupy a lot of niches common in real world working animals; some might be riding animals used as mounts, others might help in agriculture, and others are just pet companions. (Might possibly explore 'dinosaurs and dragons are related' here as a concept, with these kind of dragons tending to having ceratopsian/stegosaurid traits.) Lots of them are just pets! Something like HoW to Train Your Dragon and Discworld's swamp dragons.

dragon as antagonist; possibly some sort of demonic or malicious entity that slots into dragon-like appearances for whatever reason. Is dragon a magical concept that yields a lot of power and lots of beings tend to gravitate towards?

dragon as dangerous but non-malicious monster. Think something like Monster Hunter where there's lots of big and deadly dragons that are hunted for sustenance or self-defense; these might be a kind of magically-created creature that periodically show up out of thin air following magically-induced weather events.

Dragon as people! A classic kind of concept inspired by DND-style dragons; magically powerful shapeshifters who assume the forms of other beings, taking lovers and friends from those around them, able to assume a wide variety of forms, with their true dragon form often being very large and powerful. Generally assumed to be very rare, and would require a great deal of care. If they're a species in their own right, are they derived from other dragon-types or is it a coincidence? Do dragons rarely reproduce, or are they more of a spiritual evolution rather than a species; anyone descended from a dragon could potentially awaken their blood, maybe? Or are dragonish beings a common species (perhaps THE most common species) but most aren't particularly powerful, with fully empowered dragons only recently starting to appear. Perhaps they need a great deal of magic to awaken their potential, and that kind of magic has only recently popped up. (So far I have ideas for several dragon characters that are all wise Hot Mama dragons that have become immortal queens over specific territories, regarding the people of those lands as their hoard and refusing to let anything hurt them. In-universe this is a huge coincidence and this isn't something dragons are particularly known for and neither of them know each other, which sparks a great deal of comedic coincidences because they're both pat of the same multi-faction alliances of Good, Justice and Being Fun Weirdos.)