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geewintg · 7 months

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Fandom: GenshinShip: Rosaria x Eula Commissioned by @lost-but-with-coffee Thank you once again for commissioning me!

The smell of booze and sour pinched the air. The ever low-lighting of the tavern lost its patreon in sense of time. A lot fell victim to its capitalistic nature, where they'd be merrily yelling 'one more' at the top of their lungs with no care in the world, trapped in the enticing delusion of intoxication. It is one's getaway to life's problems. And sometimes those problems weighs from someone's past, haunting them of their entire being.

"Oh here ye~ Oh here ye!

To the mellow songs of jubilee~

For the past of when she danced with beloved thee,

Now cold in her arms as she wept her mournful plea…"

And there goes the renowned bard, rosy cheeks and delirious eyes singing with his already-nasally voice, completely drunk in euphoria. The sourness popped in the air as bubbles fizzed from the cup that was being poured for Eula. She watched it with a glazed expression.

The songs of the tavern were unlike what she was used to. Unlike the refined, well-mannered melodies of placid strings in cultures of noble houses. The bard's ballads are like the temper of the wind. On a slow afternoon, it would dapple your cheeks with its loving caress; then on some windy days, it would be a playful child, slightly pushing you and messing with your hair; but on nights accompanied by thunder, it would clap, hammer down on your window like a crazy neighbor ready to hunt you down. His melodies would prickle Eula's skin, hearing the ballads of how Mondstadt regained its freedom the second time. But to the Lawrence clan, the tyranny by the nobles being brought to justice was a fall from grace. Proud and noble, they were. Insufferable and vengeful, they are now.

To Eula, they are nothing but a great burden. A stain in her being no matter how far she is from it or even if she has forsaken her family and their obsession of the past. The blood of those sinners—will no matter what—run in her veins.

“Heh-hey! Why a beauty such as yourself doin’ alone out here, huh?” Eula was in a dark corner and no one would usually bother her. But one of the briskly men came up to her looking for trouble, ostensibly a random citizen who’s too drunk to distinguish someone of her bearing.

Eula scoffed. Just when she was in a bad mood as well… but she was willing to let this inexcusable behavior slide just for this one night. “Sir, the only thing you should be hitting on was the door. You may see yourself out,” she coolly replied.

This made the already-reddish face of the man darken. “You—!” He pointed at her. “I know you! You’re from that filthy Lawrence clan. That bitch who got the galls to join the Knights of Favonius even after what your family did and you still have the audacity to show your face here?!”

Because of his shouting, all attention turned to them. As much as it displeased her, she can’t act on it because it would only show that what they’ve been saying about her would only prove to be true—a trap. That is what they wanted. One minor slip up is all it takes for the tower she built thus far for herself will crumble.

So she stood up and crossed her arms, remaining level-headed. She had a fairly decent height of above the average so when she looked down to meet his gaze, this took the man aback and clearly wounded his ego. “Wh-who are you trying to intimidate, huh?”

“Huh?” She tilted her head in a languid manner, shifting her weight on another leg to state her lack of amusement. “When was I trying to intimidate? I was clearly drinking on my own when you decided to interrupt my alone time.”

“Cut the crap!” He jabbed her, causing her to slightly step back. “I’m still wondering how the acting grandmaster even allowed you in when you’re doing all of this so you can bring the nobles back to power. Well, guess what! We’re not going to fall for that same stupid crap you keep telling us about justice and righteousness. You can crawl back that mansion of yours and never show your face again!” She held his wrist, stopping him from doing it over and over again. But before she could even speak, he slapped her hand away and shoved her. “Don’t touch me! I knew it—! I knew it! You were gonna harm me because all I said was true, right?! You people never change! You took away our freedom and you will always will!”

Eula was caught off-guard and stumbled backwards, causing to hit someone from behind who was sitting and minding their own business. “Hey—!” The person complained.

She panicked in her head. Not another one… the previous one was already hard enough to deal with. But she was left wide-eyed when the woman stood up and threatened the troublemaker.

“Can you stop yapping with your freedom speech? You’re starting to get annoying.” Her voice was sultry yet dangerous. Her finger claws clinked against the metal handle of her dagger when she twirled it like warning. “Or I’ll shut you up myself.”

At this point, the whole air of the tavern was quiet. Some were knocked out, some including the bard who was singing merrily just a while ago, while the rest were watching intently. The guards that were usually stationed are no where to be found. This is when the bartender stepped in. “Pardon me. But Master Diluc would not be too happy if he found out there was a ruckus that took place here.”

“Then take care of him. Isn’t that your job?” The woman gestured to the drunken man who’s quivering like a deer in headlights, pale-faced having to meet someone like the woman who didn’t seem to have an ounce of hesitation to remove him. “Or if you want me to take care of him. Then by Barsitobas’ name, he’d be gone by sunrise. Just tell me.”

“Wait… did someone say my name…?” A certain drunk green bard roused from his stupor state but his head fell back down in an instant.

The troublemaker shook his head in terror. “N-no— I- I’ll remove myself.” The bartender also helped him out which he was too fear-stricken to decline.

The woman scoffed as she hung the dagger back in her belt, rolling her eyes and went back to sit on her chair. "Would you mind moving aside?" Eula blinked when the woman stood in front of her, impatient as she swayed her weight from one heel to another.

"Oh, um, pardon me." Despite the behavior, Eula felt indebted, so she added, “Let me buy you a drink as a thank you for your help.”

"Sure. But you know, you could sit down. It’s tiring to see you just standing there," the woman said, her claws clinking against glass as she played with the rim of her cup. Her sharp eyes lazily raking the aristocrat woman up and down.

“Can I get one more here?” Eula called out to the bartender and the drink was sent to their table swiftly. She did as she was told, albeit she had no idea or what to say in this situation. There was this odd feeling that's bubbling inside her, it's like the sour pop of the alcohol that leaves a bitter taste in the mouth if she doesn't wash it for long.

Does she not condemn her?

"Don't be too stiff. I'm not going to bite," the woman assured her, not looking as she took another gulp from her drink. "But I'm curious. With your status as the Knights of Favonius, why didn't you just knock them out? Surely, your skills are not all just empty praises from people's lips."

"I can't..." Eula said with hesitation. "You saw what happened. The moment I do, they use that against me even if it’s a means for self-defense."

"—because you're what? From those pompous nobles that took away this city's freedom?" The woman huffed with mockery. But seeing how Eula's features—who always looks sharp and rigid—be dampened, her smile fell. "Look, lineage doesn't matter much in the grand scheme of things. Our past doesn't define our future neither do the people who raised us. In the end, we choose our own fate." Just like how she felt indebted to the people who gave her a second chance, to instead fight for harm, she does it for a good cause, even if she were to lurk in the shadows.

Eula cracked a smile. "It sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"We all have our own thing here and there." She snorted, a rare amused smile on her lips. Eula now remembers, this woman was the odd sister of the church—Sister Rosaria. There wasn't much known about her and despite being a sister, she was also rarely seen during church activities. It is the reason why whenever Eula meets the beloved idol of Mondstadt, it's nothing but "where's Sister Rosaria" or "have you seen Sister Rosaria". And to think you'd find a sister here drinking, truly odd.

There was silence—an apperception.

“I was raised by thieves. I had to kill my foster father—the one who taught me everything I needed to know. To survive. But is that what you truly call a father? I don’t know,” Rosaria mused. She wouldn’t normally talk about her past like this, much less to a person she just met.

“I forsook my family,” Eula sighed, grabbing the same cup Rosaria had been drinking off when she was offered of it. “My family was close to disowning me when they found out that I’ve joined the knights. But they saw this as an opportunity and tried to use it. I know about their true intentions and ceased contact from then on. It was… elevating.”

“Elevating?” she chuckled. “Like finally free of it, huh?”

The aristocrat woman hung her head however. “No. Not at all. Even if I cut ties with them. Their flesh and blood still run in my veins. I will forever carry the sins of my ancestors. And I will be forever remembered by the people of Mondstadt as the scar of their dark history.”

“Well like I said, it shouldn’t matter,” Rosaria waved her hand in dismissal, grabbing the handle that was still in Eula’s hand and taking a sip out of it. This left the aristocrat woman a little flabbergasted of Rosaria’s crass attitude.

“How dare you—!”

“That is still my drink, remember?” she smirked which deepened the frown on Eula’s face.

“You could have given a warning.”

“Hmm… too bad.” The other just shrugged her off.

She slammed her fists against the table, albeit in act, following along the silly banter. “I will not forget this! Vengeance will be mine!”

“Try me. I’ll be waiting.” Rosaria’s eyes glinted in mischief as her fingers drew the length of her dagger hung on her thigh. After exchanging knowing looks, the two snorted.

“Perhaps, we should spar sometimes. I’d like to see how a sister can hold up against the Knight of Favonius. Would we be too lacking I wonder?”

Rosaria crossed her legs and placed her chin on her hand. “Then the rumors of the knights being unreliable would be true. To submit defeat to a sister of the church would be too humiliating.”

She crossed her arms and tilted her head in taunt. “Who says I’ll be submitting defeat? Just make sure you’re with bite, not all bark.” She could feel the coldness of her breath when she leaned in.

“Ice bites. Don’t tempt me for you to feel it.” The icy thorns craned her neck.

“I take ice baths in the morning. Don’t assume I’m not used to the cold.” She bit as well. “Well, let’s just see who’s has more frost for the other to handle, shall we?”

Rosaria hummed dangerously low, amused by the offer. “Shall we?”

Commissions are still open! For more details; for more example of my works

#writing #genshin #genshin impact #creative writing #commission #open commissions #writing commissions #eula #rosaria #rosaria x eula #my commissions are still open

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fleurmarigold · 2 years

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I’ve been seeing some talk about communication around lately, and since it’s a topic that’s ever-evolving and gets better and better the more consciousness we raise around it, I’m throwing my hat in! I’ve been both people in this comic countless times and I’m really happy to have learned this toolset to be where I am now, so I hope they can be of some help to someone else out there. 💚💖

❗ EDIT: IMPORTANT CONTEXT - PLEASE READ BEFORE COMMENTING ❗

this post was made in response to another post I saw on communication, that felt really hurtful because it appeared to be placing a very heavy and unfair amount of blame on neurodivergent or behaviourally challenged people who struggle with interacting with others. though I see how it may appear that way given the specifity of the examples given (which are specific and direct responses to the ones shown in the other comic mentioned), my intent here was by no means to do the same: it was to reintroduce the idea of communication being a mutual effort, that requires consciousness, care and consideration from all parties involved.

because once again: I have been both people in this comic.

additionally, this was not written as a “guide” or “instruction on how to friendship” of any kind. it was made to highlight some examples of struggles I’ve experienced while interacting with others, and what specific, practical tools and mindsets I found helpful with overcoming them. not every bond has to look like this, and friendship is not ‘hopeless’ for you if it doesn’t -- but if you are struggling with the things described in this comic, these are just some suggestions on how to navigate them based on personal experience!

lastly, I am not attempting to ‘commodify friendship’ or anything of the sort. if this all sounds like too much work, way too complicated or just an ‘unrealistic’ standard of communication to you, that’s fine. but having been someone who has experienced (and hence been very damaged by) some very notably unhealthy bonds in my life, I felt it was really, very important that I allowed my experiences a voice in the wider conversation. (which is about the only thing preventing me from deleting this post altogether, given how miserable it has made my notifications tab.)

because while talking about friendship, about how important and natural it is for us to be allowed to inconvenience, trouble and even burden our friends as a token of how much we mean to one another, I feel it is also incredibly vital to keep the context of hurtful and even abusive relationships in mind as we do so, and all of the complications that can arise when we trouble each other in careless, manipulative or even intentional ways -- hence, why it is so important to me that open hearted, compassionate and mindful communication be something that is very transparently at the centre of the conversation, and, whatever form it happens to come in, considered as a vital aspect of ultimately connecting with one another in meaningful and transformative ways.

however, it appears my thoughts on the broader subject may be too nuanced for me to have tried to fit into a silly little comic on the internet... I’m not even doing a very good job of summarizing it here, to be honest. so if I could ask that you, on your end, put this post through a bit of an ‘accounting for the inherent miscommunication of important subjects caused by personal distance and internet driven anonymity’ filter of your own before leaving rude, hurtful, dismissive or accusatory comments or replies in my notifications, that would really mean the world to me as an extremely socially anxious individual.

if, on the other hand, you’ve found this post helpful, insightful or meaningful, I’m really glad, and thanks for reading!! I would really urge that instead of taking my word for it, though, you go read “Nonviolent Communication” cover-to-cover if you’re really interested in the subject!! it does SUCHHH a better job at communicating (heh) this whole idea than I could ever hope to, seriously.

thanks!!

#my art #communication #relationships #boundaries #nonviolent communication #venting #therapy #mental health

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

#bnha 324 #uraraka ochako #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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marybeatriceofmodena · 3 years

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You know, I’ve been thinking today about how Alina doesn’t even really work as a Reluctant Hero, compared her to Frodo to see the key differences (since Frodo is pretty much the Poster Child for the Reluctant Hero), and then I realized...

You know, I think L/eigh B/ardugo wrote TGT as a very black-and-white fairytale, where Alina is the princess, Mal’s the knight in the shining armor, and the Darkling is basically the dragon, except it doesn’t really work because the worldbuilding requires an approach that’s... a lot more grey?

The thing is, though, I realized... Alina and Mal are basically meant to be Frodo and Sam. Except that, again... it doesn’t really work.

Frodo works as a Reluctant Hero, because he makes it clear multiple times that he doesn’t want to carry the Ring. He asks Gandalf to do it for him, he asks Galadriel, he asks Aragorn, and they all refuse, because they are (or are called to be) in a position of power, and while them being in a position of power is presented as good, the One Ring essentially represents the fast, easy way to get to it, which will ultimately corrupt them rather than have them fight their way towards their goal.

Frodo, meanwhile, is the right person to carry the Ring, because he comes from a humble place and he doesn’t really have any aspirations to become powerful. And while he’s clearly burdened by having to carry the One Ring, and that he makes it clear that he wishes the Ring had never come to him, he still goes on anyway, despite all the hardships he faces, because his ultimate goal is to save the Shire and his friends, and that desire is stronger than any fear or greed he may have.

Now, J.R.R. Tolkien himself said that he didn’t really see Frodo as THE Hero, and that Sam is the real Hero of the story to him. Which makes sense, given how Sam was based off young men from rural England he met while fighting in World War I. But also, the story makes it very clear that without Sam, who’s arguably the most pure-hearted person in all of Middle-Earth, Frodo would have definitely failed in his task. The reason why he resists the temptation to carry the One Ring is LITERALLY because him protecting and helping Frodo is more important to him. Sam doesn’t give two shits about power. Helping Frodo save the Shire and coming back to everything he’s ever loved is more important to him.

Both Alina and Frodo are pure-hearted orphans who are given tremendous power: Alina is the Sun Summoner, and Frodo carries the One Ring. In both cases, power is represented as a corruptive force, that makes people go mad with greed. It works in the context of The Lord of the Rings, given how the rings were given to leaders of Elves, Dwarves and Men, and that Sauron created the One Ring to rule over and control all of them. The Grisha, on the other hand, unlike the Ring-bearers, are not in a position of power, given they are essentially victims of Fantastic Racism in pretty much every country. While Ravka treats them slightly better than in Fjerda or Shu Han, it’s still not ideal and it’s something that could be taken away from them at any moment. It would be an entirely different matter if the Grisha were the ones rulling over Ravka and viewing otkazat’sya as lesser, and in that context, Alina being the Sun Summoner would be a very obvious road to her becoming corrupted.

Frodo refusing to carry the One Ring and asking other people to take that burden from him comes from a place of genuine fear of what the Ring might do to him. In his place, we’d probably all do the same thing. That’s what makes his acceptance of his task all the more admirable. Alina, on the other hand, refuses to be the Sun Summoner and to help her fellow Grisha because that stands in the way of her ending up with Mal. She never gives any sign that she’s truly empathizing with the Grisha’s plight, she tries to run away not once, but twice, and most importantly, she never sees herself as one of them. They are othered, but it matters little to her, because she doesn’t want to be othered herself, because that stands in the way of her running off with a boy. It’s basically the equivalent of Frodo being overcome by fear after seeing the fate of the Shire in Galadriel’s mirror, and just demanding to be sent to the Grey Havens straight away to save his own ass from it all and just leaving the One Ring to whoever wants to deal with it. At that point, it’s not being a Reluctant Hero: it’s being a coward at best, a selfish bastard at worst.

(And that’s why I don’t really buy her when she tells Aleksander that they could have had it all if he had told her all the truth from the start, because... again, she didn’t seem to care about the Grisha that much and Aleks telling her everything would have actually been a sure way of having her run as fast as possible the other way. I know the story is trying to tell me otherwise and that the plot point I’m supposed to see here is that Alina was willing to do something until she felt betrayed by Aleks, which is... not what was shown here, and it’s especially annoying considering how Alina is a deserter in every sense of the word, and that any army would have court-martialed her for running away.)

So if Alina is meant to be a pure, selfless heroine, who loses her powers because she also refuses to be greedy... that just falls completely flat, because if anything, she’s as selfish as Frodo is selfless, because all of this really just boils down to her wanting to run off with Mal.

Now, onto Sam and Mal. Both of them are basically Everymen who are there to help the Hero and keep their feet on the ground. As mentioned earlier, Sam is the one who helps Frodo finish his mission to Mordor, and the story makes it clear Frodo would have failed without him. TGT meanwhile presents Mal as Alina’s “True North”... which could work on paper as Alina’s reminder to temper Aleksander’s efforts and to remind him that in order for Grisha to be viewed as people, it is important for them to also remember that balance and peace between Grisha and otkazat’sya will be essential, so resentment and hatred can be healed between both groups.

The key difference here is that Sam is completely supportive of Frodo at all times. Even when Frodo sends him away in the film, Sam goes back after him the minute he realizes he’s been tricked by Gollum. He never shames Frodo whenever he falls prey to temptation, he simply reminds him of who he is and what he must fight for, and even when he’s climbing Mount Doom, he still carries Frodo on his back despite being probably completely exhausted, because Frodo’s more exhausted than he is. He completely accepts Frodo as both his friend, the Hobbit from the Shire, and the Ring-bearer he needs to help, even if he might die in the process.

Mal (in the books, that is) makes it very clear that he does not accept Alina as both the girl he knew and the Sun Summoner. He only wants the girl, and whenever Alina makes steps towards being the Sun Summoner, he basically sulks and yells at her for not paying attention to him. Despite Alina becoming othered in the eyes of the world, he refuses to see her as othered, mostly because it is inconvenient to him rather than because he loves her for who she is. That’s why in the end, people feel like Alina lost her powers in order to be with Mal, because Mal would never accept her in her entirety. Sam, on the other hand, accepts Frodo as both Ring-bearer and Hobbit, because if he didn’t, Frodo would have failed.

And while they made Mal in the show a lot nicer than his book counterpart, he still doesn’t work as Alina’s “True North”, because he cossets her in her selfishness. He may say he doesn’t care about how Alina is a Grisha in this one, but he also doesn’t consider the implications of it all - which is especially glaring given he’s a soldier himself. Like, look, if you’re going to slap in a racism plotline to make Mal/ina work, you’d think that being half-Shu would give Mal a little awareness that people are going to treat Alina badly for being half-Shu AND a Grisha, and given Alina is the MOTHERFUCKING SUN SUMMONER AND A SAINT, maybe, just maybe he’d tell her: “Heh, it’s kinda lame we’ll just run off and let everyone else in the dust, you know, especially since we could make our lives as well as everyone else’s better?” Seriously, if you’re going to make Mal Alina’s “True North”, have him face her duties and her calling whether she likes it or not, don’t coddle her when she wants to run the other way because she wants to hide under a rock for the rest of her life.

With all that being said, that leaves us with the Darkling, who... I mean, given his whole schtick is that power corrupts and makes you evil and crazy, I guess that makes him Gollum, but sexy.

Gollum, but sexy.

That single expression has been haunting me ever since I started writing the above novel and I fucking hate it. You’re welcome. No one wanted Sexy Gollum. Absolutely no one. Fuck this shyte. See, this is why I want Darkling Redemption. I do not want to live in a world where Gollum is sexy. I need brain bleach.

Even here it doesn’t even fucking work because Gollum hid in a cave with the Ring with a strategically placed cloth because no one wants to see his crusty ass family jewels anyway, while Aleks worked his ass off to give the Grisha a safe place to live and to at the very least ensure they’re useful enough to not be killed like animals. Like, if you’re going to give the world something that’s gonna definitely not make me sleep tonight like Sexy Gollum, at least do it right.

#now i have thoroughly traumatized myself :)#anti grishaverse #anti leigh bardugo #anti mal #anti malina #darklina #alarkling #rants and reviews

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firelxdykatara · 3 years

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ppl love to forget that katara: 1. has her own taste, 2. developed around aang, he needed her for his development and vice versa, 3. ZUTARA IS SHIP BETWEEN AN OPPRESOR X OPPRESSED!!! Ignoring all of the development they had with their respective partners and the trauma Zuko caused Katara!!

In the infamous words of one Luke Skywalker: amazing. every word of what you just said was wrong.

It’s actually kind of ironic that you bring up Katara’s taste, since, throughout the show, we have examples of the guys she likes, to greater or lesser extents in canon--Jet (explicit romantic feelings on her part, word of god that jet was her first kiss--a kiss that would have been consensual, incidentally, something you should keep in mind for later) and Haru (she denies the crush, but that could just as easily have been because of the abomination he’d been growing on his lip rather than denying those feelings ever existed), both of whom have much more in common (in terms of both emotional and physical maturity, and physical appearance) with Zuko than either of them has with Aang.

Zuko’s book 3 hairstyle is almost exactly reminiscent of Jet’s, even, if not quite as floofy.

(This is probably in part because of Jet’s function as a foil of Zuko within the narrative, particularly given their book 2 encounters, which I think just further solidifies my point that, were it not for extenuating circumstances [like the fact that Zuko was introduced as an enemy and they had significant obstacles to hurdle before they could be friends], Zuko would have been exactly Katara’s type. Had they met under different circumstances, she could have been the girl he went on a date with in Ba Sing Se. Just something to think about.)

So, yes, we’ve established that Katara has her own taste. Her tastes seem to be boys with great hair who are taller than her, the same age or older, and of a similar maturity level.

Aang falls short (heh, short) on all counts. So it isn’t Katara’s taste in boys that led her to be interested in him. Hm!

Next, you claim that Katara ‘developed around Aang’--that she was necessary for his development, and that he was necessary for hers.

Let’s take a moment to examine that, shall we?

I will absolutely grant you that Katara was necessary for Aang’s development--only to a point, of course, but we’ll get to that later--but was he really necessary for Katara‘s growth? I suppose I could grant you this on a generous technicality--he did, after all, provide her with the means to finally leave the South Pole and find a waterbending master to teach her (although she wound up largely self-taught anyway). But that had nothing to do with his relationship to Katara and everything to do with the structure of the plot--Katara and Sokka find Aang (and he never would have gotten out of that iceberg without Katara’s own righteous anger, so even that leads back to her own power), and then they go on a quest to find teachers for the Chosen One and save the world.

The story could not have begun without first finding Aang and then providing means for the other main characters to travel with him (or, in Zuko’s case, chase him), but this has nothing at all to do with Aang’s relationship to Katara. Aang was not a mover in Katara’s developmental arc--if anything, he acted as an obstacle more often than not, his actions ranging from innocent but obnoxious (playing and flirting with girls rather than helping with chores like picking up vital supplies, leaving Katara to do all of the quite literal heavy lifting and keeping her stuck in the role of caretaker that she’d been thrust into following the death of her mother), to deliberate and harmful (hiding the map to Katara and Sokka’s father, a truly selfish action, regardless of his lack of malicious intent, and one for which he never actually apologized), to somewhere in between (”she didn’t really mean that” he says to the man refusing to train Katara because she’s a girl, when yes, she very much did mean that, and Aang was no help in finally getting the old codger to eat his words--Katara had to shove them down his throat her own damn self).

While Katara’s overall arc wasn’t exactly big and dynamic (like Zuko’s redemption arc), or in-your-face (like Sokka getting force-fed Respect Women Juice and his eventual growth into a tactician and leader), it was very much present and woven into her character--and Aang had almost no part in it. He provided her with the means to get to the North Pole, but left Katara alone to fight the patriarchy herself. He messed around while Katara took it on herself to do the chores and keep the Gaang alive, but he did almost nothing to decrease that burden so she could grow out of the caretaker role. (Contrary to popular shipper claims, Aang didn’t actually teach Katara to have fun. She already knew how to have fun. But she couldn’t indulge, because she had a responsibility to her family and her tribe, and later to her brother and Aang and Toph, and Aang goofing off and trying to get her to do the same only added to her burdens rather than subtracting from them.) He provided Katara with the necessary motive to learn to heal herself, but he certainly didn’t seem to learn from the experience of accidentally burning her, preferring instead to claim he was never going to firebend again, despite already knowing, at that point, that he was going to need to master fire along with the other elements to become a fully realized Avatar and defeat the Firelord.

He didn’t help Katara keep them alive during The Desert. (In fact, he ran off, leaving her to desperately try to keep Sokka and Toph from succumbing to the heat while worrying for his safety.) In The Painted Lady, Katara makes the decision to stall the Gaang and do what she can to help the Fire Nation villagers on her own--Aang agrees to help her when he finds out, but he wasn’t actually instrumental in her making that choice. The Puppetmaster was, again, Katara finding a master of her own, and having to deal with the fallout from that. And in The Southern Raiders, Aang was--perhaps unknowingly, if I’m being generous, because he is a child and could not reasonably be expected to fully understand the implications of what he was asking her to do or why it was impossible--actively impeding Katara’s development! She desperately needed closure, something he could not understand and actively belittled and dismissed. The only reason he relented in the end (but not without a condescending ‘I forgive you! Does that give you any ideas???’ parting shot lmao) was because Katara was planning to take Appa anyway, and letting her go (and hoping she’d just magically wind up doing things his way) was easier than trying to fight her on it.

While Aang’s existence was necessary for Katara to start down her own path, she needed neither his guidance nor his approval to follow it--and absolutely nothing would change about Katara’s arc if you removed their romantic relationship entirely.

Possibly because the only changes needed to do so would be to remove the two times Aang kissed Katara without her consent (which, hopefully, no one would actually miss), and the epilogue kiss (which was awkward and unnecessary to begin with, since ending the entire show on a romantic kiss as the final shot kind of missed the point of the story to begin with, but that’s another discussion). None of these kisses (which are the only moments in which Katara’s feelings for Aang are so much as addressed; do note that addressing them, or hinting that they needed to be, is not the same as saying she exhibited any sign of reciprocating them) altered anything about Katara’s behavior, her personal arc, or (and perhaps most critically) her relationship with Aang.

It’s that last point that is really damning, as far as ‘Katara obviously had feelings for Aang, she kissed him in the finale!’ goes. Because she didn’t ‘obviously’ have feelings for him. And the fact that he kissed her before the invasion and then she forgot about it (she literally had no idea what he was talking about during the play’s intermission until he reminded her that he’d kissed her) is pretty clear evidence that she didn’t actually have feelings for him. Not the kind he had for her.

I’ve been a teenage girl. I know what it’s like to be surprise!kissed by your crush. And I absolutely for a full fact know that I had not completely forgotten about that kiss three months later and had, in fact, spent most of my waking hours thinking about it and remembering it and trying to talk to him about it. Now, granted, I was not in the middle of a war, but even if I had been, I doubt I would have needed reminding about the fact that the boy I’ve supposedly been developing feelings for had kissed me and showed clearly that he had those feelings for me too.

At the very least, if Katara was harboring feelings that she was worried about approaching until after the war, her relationship dynamic with Aang should have shifted. But it didn’t. She acted the exact same way with him after the Day of Black Sun as she did before it--that is, as a mother figure and a caretaker, responsible for his wellbeing. (And it’s clear she never took him down off the pedestal she needed him to occupy, either--let it not be said that the unhealthy aspects of their relationship only went one way.)

And book 3 is, incidentally, where Katara went from being vital to Aang’s development to being detrimental to it--or, rather, Aang’s refusal to let go of his attachment to her (despite ostensibly having done as much at the end of book 2) was. Because despite having been told by, perhaps, the greatest authority left in the world on Air Nomad culture (even more than Aang, who had left his temple with a child’s understanding of his culture that was never able to mature because he got stuck in the ice berg while his people were wiped out) that he had to let go of his possessive attachment to this girl who never even expressed the possibility that she might harbor romantic feelings for him to begin with, after Azula killed him and Katara brought him back, he went right back into the mindset of Katara is mine, it’s just a matter of time.

And the narrative validated him for it.

Notice how, during Ember Island Players, Aang says the following (emphasis mine):

“We kissed at the invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.”

First of all, if you go back and watch the scene, it’s clear it wasn’t a mutual kiss. Aang sprang a surprise kiss on Katara, which left her shocked and unhappy after he flew off. (The decision to have her looking away and frowning was a deliberate one on the part of Bryke, who wanted Katara’s feelings kept ambiguous. Heaven forbid you allow the animators to make it clear that this fourteen-year-old girl who was just kissed without her consent by someone she’d never once demonstrated romantic feelings toward might actually have some. Heaven forbid she have a little agency in her own romantic narrative. But whatever.)

Second, he says he thought they were gonna be together.

He thought.

He never once even asked Katara what she thought--or even how she felt. He just assumes. He assumes that if he kisses her, she’ll kiss him back and they’ll get together. He assumes that she must have feelings for him, even though her body language is closed off and she told him with her words that she did not want to talk or think about this right now, and kisses her regardless of those signals, upsetting her and leading her to storm off.

And the narrative rewards him, because despite the fact that they don’t have a single significant scene together after that second disastrous kiss, Katara just decides off-screen that she Does Love Him Really and walks onto the balcony to make out with him.

The upshot of all this being that, while Katara was indeed instrumental to a lot of Aang’s early growth and development, Aang was not necessary for her own arc, and their romantic relationship (such as it was) actively hampered Aang’s development in book 3, while removing it would change absolutely nothing for Katara (except saving her from some painfully embarrassing memories).

As far as your third point, I’m simply not going to get baited into explaining how reducing Zutara to an ‘oppressor/oppressed’ relationship is not only insulting to interracial couples irl (not to mention any other couple with a potentially unbalanced dynamic of societal power, since there are many more axis of oppression than just racial), but demeaning to Zuko and Katara, their personal arcs as well as their relationship development together.

However, I will point out that Zuko was not responsible for any of Katara’s trauma. She did not find violence and fighting in bending battles to be traumatic--in fact, she reveled in it. She enjoyed fighting against Zuko at multiple points (especially noticeable in their battle at the end of book 1), because she wanted to fight--she always had--and once she had the ability, she was ready to throw down with anyone who gave her the slightest reason. (Including, by the way, her own potential waterbending master.) Aang’s death at the end of book 2 was Azula’s doing, and while I think that contributed to Katara’s extreme reaction to Zuko joining the gaang, it was not something for which she actively blamed him, and it wasn’t something she believed would be repeated--she let him go off alone on a journey to find the original firebending masters with Aang well before she chose to forgive him. So she already trusted Zuko’s intentions and that Aang would be safe with him.

Finally, because this has gotten long enough already, I hope you now understand that Zuko and Katara getting together would not require ignoring any of their development with their canonical romantic partners. We’ve already established that Katara’s arc wouldn’t change in the slightest if all of Aang’s romantic advances were removed, and I haven’t even gotten into how Mai meant nothing in the grand scheme of Zuko’s development because I’m pretty sure that’s just self-evident. I mean, the video compilation put together by Nick showcasing Zuko’s journey throughout the series doesn’t include a single scene with Mai, though it does include several with Katara, and even Jin makes an appearance--because Katara, and even Jin, played key roles in Zuko’s personal journey, while his relationship with Mai happened entirely off-screen and her only real function was to showcase just how unhealthy trying to force himself back into the role of the Crown Prince was for him.

What development, exactly, is there between them to even ignore?

At any rate, I’ve gone on long enough--I hope you enjoy the fact that you activated my wordvomit trap card right when i was about to go to bed, anon, because I just spent two hours writing this instead. In case you’re interested in the TL;DR: at the end of the day, there was no meaningful, mutual development in Kataang’s romantic relationship, and those romantic feelings that did exist were largely one-sided and ultimately detrimental to Aang’s development in the final third of his overall arc. Meanwhile, Mai meant nothing to Zuko’s journey--rather like Aang’s romantic overtures, she could be removed from the show completely and nothing about his story would change--while Zuko and Katara were both vital to each other’s overall storylines, arcs and development. This, coupled with the fact that Zuko never actually traumatized Katara and, in fact, helped her achieve closure from the biggest source of her own trauma, means that Zuko and Katara have better and more believable build up that could potentially lead to a romantic relationship than either of them have with their canon romantic partners.

So no, anon, I didn’t forget anything--I think you may have, though. Perhaps a rewatch is in order? Make sure not to close your eyes for the back half of book 3 this time.

#atla #zutara #zuko #katara #aang salt #kataang salt #maiko salt #salt for ts #just trying to cover my bases #asked #Anonymous

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) 罗夏 SR 「波波雪糕」 Rorschach SR [Bobo Ice Cream] Painting Story Translation: Azure Island

*For All Time Master-list / Rorschach’s Personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Card is Free Event-Obtainable. *T/N: Ice cream hotpot is just… fondue, of sorts.

“The taste of summer is delicious.”

His figure never failed to attract my attention. His overwhelming confidence when surfing is similar to that of Poseidon, the one who directs the waves of the sea.

✥ Chapter 1: 造浪池 Wave Pool

MC: AHHHHHH!!

Rorschach: Don't worry, (Y/n). I'm holding onto you.

That’s what he said, but the ferocious artificial waves that came at me made my control over my legs falter.

Rorschach: You don’t need to firmly ground yourself on it all that hard. Try to feel the rhythm of the wave.

MC: I feel nothing! Absolutely nothing!

I faintly heard the sound of his low chuckle and my face instantly heated up.

It's all his fault!

It was only because Rorschach had mentioned that he was good at surfing that the curiosity even started taking root in me.

And that was precisely why I’d invited him to be my coach for today and ended up trying out the cruise’s popular surfing simulator.

But now, looking at the situation I was in, I couldn't help but regret having bugged Rorschach to become my personal surfing coach for the day when I'd clearly overestimated my athletic prowess.

MC: I’ve overestimated my motor skills...

My low mutterings under my breath were completely blocked out by the rolling of the artificial waves.

Before I had the time to react, Rorschach had reached out to extend a gentle hold around my waist as he swiftly plucked me out of the surfing simulator.

Rorschach: Looks like you still need a personal demonstration from your dear coach.

He walked down to retrieve the surfboard, tied his feet to the ropes and slid smoothly onto the waves with practised ease.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Rorschach: Look, (Y/n). The waves are a little big, but don't fret. You are now riding it…

Due to my having dragged him out of his room in a hurry, Rorschach was dressed in clothes that were at risk of getting utterly ruined by water at any given moment.

However, he didn’t seem to mind it at all and continued sharing with me the technique of how he rode the waves along with how it felt to ride one.

Although he looked no different from his usual self now, I could sense that he'd broken free of the chains of gravity, now soaring freely.

His pose was as carefree as that of an unshackled seagull. Faint droplets of water splashed all about. His gallant confidence was way brighter than even the sun itself.

All eyes were now on him, firm and unwavering. Even the professional coach was giving occasional nods from where he stood not too far away.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Rorschach: Ack—!

MC: Watch out!

I'd somehow unwittingly grabbed his hand the moment I heard his yelp.

Although I knew that doing so wouldn't do anything to help stabilize him, I still did it anyway. Do first, think later, as it goes.

Rorschach: Ahem. Pardon me, my tongue slipped.

MC: RORSCHACH!

I couldn't help but bristle in anger, seemingly having thought that he had been in danger of flipping over. However, I never asked why he still didn't let go of my hand.

The warmth from his palm was similar to a reassuring promise, telling me not to fret any longer.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Through Rorschach's patient coaching and my unremitting endeavours, I finally managed to strike and maintain my balance on the surfboard for a few minutes with him holding onto me as support.

MC: And this is JUST a surfing simulator…

MC: I suppose you can say that I've now experienced a smidge of the true terror that is the sea.

Rorschach: Mother nature's no weakling, that's for sure, but people will always find a way to go up against her when the need arises.

Rorschach: What do you think? Was today's experience satisfactory in your book?

I vigorously nodded.

MC: Of course I'm satisfied with it! But I think it's better to actually head out to the beach and watch you ride the waves rather than cooping you up here as my coach.

Rorschach: ...Why does that feel like you've just given me a negative review?

MC: Huh? Why would I?

Blame you and your flamboyant popularity.

I silently groused.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Chapter 2: 冰激凌火锅 Ice cream Hotpot

Just then, a familiar figure not too far away caught my attention.

MC: Hey, Rorschach? Look, over there. Isn't that Feng Junhao?

Rorschach: The little rascal can’t keep to himself, can he?

A small water gun attached to his waist, looking left and right, he looked like a little officer, here to inspect things.

Being distracted, he didn’t notice both of us as we approached him. He bumped into Rorschach’s leg with a resounding smack.

Feng Junhao: Huh. It's you guys again.

Rorschach: You don't sound too happy

Feng Junhao: Hmph.

He avoided the question but fixated his gaze on me.

Feng Junhao: (Y/n), why do you like hanging out with this guy so much?

My face inexplicably flushed a deep shade of red

Rorschach: You don’t understand, do you? My artistic flair will naturally attract other artists to me.

Feng Junhao didn’t refute Rorschach; an unusual occurrence.

Feng Junhao: Hey, Rorschach…

We exchanged a dubious glance with each other.

Feng Junhao: ……

Feng Junhao: Nevermind.

Before we could even reply to him, he ran away.

MC: Rorschach, I think we should follow him and see what he’s up to.

Rorschach: Agreed.

We tailed him from a distance, watching as he walked into a fine dining establishment before coming out with a glum look on his face.

Rorschach shook his head, walking up to him.

Rorschach: Okay, little devil. What are you up to this time?

Feng Junhao seemed rather unfazed by our sudden appearance.

Feng Junhao: … The ice cream hotpot I want to eat is only sold here.

Rorschach barked out in laughter.

Rorschach: This establishment’s members-only. Let’s see, how about you and (Y/n) go take a seat and I’ll buy one and bring it over to you guys?

Feng Junhao: You’re not making fun of me? You’re buying it for me??

Rorschach slightly bent down, ruffling his hair.

Rorschach: It’s rare to see you being so honest. Consider it a reward.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The ice cream hotpot, a dazzling array of vibrant colours and fresh ingredients exuding cold air all around, was placed on the table.

Just looking at it alone was enough to make people feel a little cooler under the scorching heat of summer.

Feng Junhao’s eyes shone bright, seemingly satisfied beyond measure at having his wish fulfilled. He had a brief exchange with Rorschach before heartily digging into the ice cream before him.

Rorschach: Is it tasty?

Feng Junhao: Can the ice cream that yours truly favours not taste good!?

Rorschach: My turn to dig in then.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Rorschach reached out and unceremoniously dug a big hole into the sweet treat.

Feng Junhao: Hey, hey, hey! Isn’t the whole hotpot supposed to be mine!?

Rorschach: Hm? When did I ever say that?

Rorschach: I was the one who bought it, and I was also the one who brought it here.

Rorschach: I’ll let your ungratefulness slide, but why are you so adamant against sharing?

Feng Junhao: E-Even if that’s so… too much ice cream does no wonders to your teeth and stomach, so let me shoulder this burden alone.

Rorschach: No way. As a gentleman, I do not advocate kid bullying actions.

Feng Junhao: Who’s. The. Kid. Here!

Rorschach: Plus, (Y/n) and I have been out in the sun for so long, so we need a little dessert to replenish our energy.

Rorschach: And since you’ve already helped us taste-test it with such enthusiasm, I’m now sure that we can eat it without a worry!

Feng Junhao: Can’t you just go buy another?

Feng Junhao: (Y/n) likes chopped peanut snow cones, not ice cream hotpots. Right?

Feng Junhao winked at me, making me nod in response, albeit reluctantly.

Rorschach: I see you always acting so manly, but you choose to “threaten” a girl now?

Rorschach: Heh, looks like I should let you have a taste of how vicious society is out there.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Rorschach: Here, (Y/n). Open up.

I subconsciously did as he instructed and a strawberry, carved into the shape of a rose and topped with some ice cream, was swiftly delivered into my mouth.

Feng Junhao: AH!? But that’s the nicest strawberry I left for last!

As the two of them bickered on, I smiled, my eyes closing to form crescent moons of happiness.

Yup, the taste of summer truly is delicious.

#时空中的绘旅人 #For All Time #Otome #Translations #Netease #罗夏 #Luo Xia #Rorschach #諏訪部順一 #Suwabe Junichi

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imasimpforshanks · 3 years

Note

Hello author! Can I ask for K and L for Sanji/Ace please. (Fluff) thankyou!

Fluff Alphabet - Portgas D. Ace

a/n: hiya!!!! Here is ace’s fluff alphabet! 💗I know you only asked for K & L but I hate only answering a few letters of these at a time LMAO 💀ALSOOOOO I’m going to Sanjis at some point too, because I got a lot more angst asks than fluff so yahhhh! Anywayssss hope you enjoy<3333

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

Ace absolutely loves to pull pranks on you AND he loves to pull pranks with you. Once a month you actually have an all-out prank war against one another where even the crew fear that they will be caught in the middle of it.

Oh, and true to his character, the two of you spend a lot of time eating food together. It’s very difficult for any normal human being to eat anything close to the amount Ace eats, so more often than not, it’s you staring at him in awe while he scoffs down another plate of food.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

He finds your smile to be one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen, it’s even more beautiful when the smile is directed at him. The moment you smile at him everything else in the world seems to melt away. Ace does everything in his power to bring a smile to your face, because when you smile everything else seems to fall into place. (SO CLICHÉ I KNOW BUT IT’S TRUE!)

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

His go to method of comfort is cuddles. He just wraps his arms around you and gives you lots of forehead kisses. He’ll say all these kind things about you and ask what you need from him. If you’re not sure, or if you don’t feel like talking, he’ll patiently wait until you’re ready to talk.

D-Dreams (how do they picture they future with their s/o?)

In every possible future he envisions, you are there. To Ace, there is no future unless you are with him. It’ll be the two of you living life to the absolute fullest, taking it day-by-day.

He isn’t too keen on having (biological) children as he doesn’t want them to be burdened with the blood of Gol D. Roger.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

He tends to take the more dominant role in the relationship. It’s just his natural personality that seeps through, it’s truly not intentional. He’s confident and loud so there’s not really any way you can’t not listen to him. However, if you were to voice any opinions or comments, you’ve got all his attention!

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

I talk about his fights with his s/o a little in his angst alphabet. Here it is again!

Fights with Ace, although they don’t happen often, can quickly get out of hand. He’s stubborn and his inability to accept that he’s not always right can cause a minor disagreement to escalate into an all-out fight. On a few occasions you have argued about him never turning his back on an opponent.

Your fights tend to be followed by cooldown time. Things can get quite heated (no pun intended) so you need some alone time and space to breathe. After that though, you comeback together and apologize.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

Ace felt unloved and unwanted by the world growing up (save for Luffy and Sabo, oh and Dadan), so it was quite the change to experience the unconditional love you provided him. He will forever be grateful for what you have done for him, in fact, he’s so grateful about it that he can never shut up about it! Much like how he gushes about his ‘stupid kid brother’ to the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace will also never shut up about you to anyone he talks to. Your name somehow always makes its way into any conversation he has.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

The only secret he kept from you was that he was the son of the Pirate King. He was scared that once you knew, you would view him differently. But over time he was able to see that that would never be the case. So, after telling you that, he never kept anything from you ever again. Ace actually finds sharing secrets with you to be a weight off his shoulders.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

You were another person that was able to show Ace he is worthy of being loved. It’s an insecurity of his that will probably never go away, but that’s okay because you’re more than happy to remind him daily.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

I talked about Ace’s jealousy in his angst alphabet! But I’ll go over it again here!

When he gets jealous he turns into such a man child. He’s pouting and moping around while mumbling to himself. He develops quite a petty attitude. If you were to ask him “want to go get something to eat?” he’d respond with “why don’t you just go and ask ____ for some food.” But, as soon as you begin commenting on how jealous he’s acting he’s going to deny it to the end of his days.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

I feel as though I may give Ace a little too much credit when it comes to this because I want to think that he’d be one of those amazing kissers, like he just has a knack for it. But in reality, that probably wouldn’t be the case.

Ace is more likely to be quite an overexcited kisser. He’s keen and passionate, that’s for sure. But with your first kiss, he’s a little too keen and tries to move way to fast. After some calming down and a little bit of a giggle to one other he’s in the zone.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

The two of you are just talking and he’s, unsurprisingly, brought up his brother, Luffy. What is surprising however, is when he tells you how badly he wants you guys to meet each other. Your first reaction was “yeah that stands to reason he wants all of us to meet luffy” but before you could say anything Ace is already going on like “yeah, I just can’t wait to have the two people I love most in the world meet. It’d be real cool” (or something along those lines and probably a little less cheesy LMAO). You just stare at him like “heh?” and he stares at you like “uhhhh… yeah I said what I said?”

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

Heck yeah, this dude wants to get married! Getting to show you off to everyone? Yes please! Getting to tell you in front of everyone he knows just how much he loves you? BIG YES. Oh, AND a big ass party afterwards? THIS DUDE CANNOT WAIT! Being able to marry you is one of his dreams, and he’s actually been thinking about since the first date you guys went on.

But, he’s really struggling with how to propose to you. He’s gone through every cliché in the book. A ring at the bottom of your glass, in your food, a carriage ride etc. They’re all great ideas but he doesn’t think they suit the dynamic of your relationship. So, he’s going to enlist the help of Whitebeard Pirates and create an elaborate prank (that has a 50/50 chance of going wrong but also still working out exactly as he wanted).

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

He likes to call you hot stuff or baby. Initially, these nicknames resulted in a lot of teasing from the other whitebeard pirates but neither of you cared.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

Whitebeard and a few of the other division commanders are the first to notice. I mean, it’s not that hard… He is constantly bringing you up in every conversation (if you’re not there) and if you are there, they can’t even get his attention for a moment. You have his undivided attention! It isn’t until Marco or someone says “You’re down baddddd, Ace” that he’s like HUH?

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

Ace loves PDA. He is all about kissing you in front of everyone else. So much so that you constantly get told to “get a room!”. Ace loves to show off his relationship with you to the whole wide world. He’s incredibly proud to have found someone that loves him wholeheartedly.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)

Well, thanks to his devil fruit, his body temperature tends to run pretty warm, so you have your own personal heater.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Ace is romantic in his own way, that’s for sure. He expresses his love through teasing and jokes, but also through quality time. He’s big on that. Making sure all his attention is on you so you know just how much he loves you.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

He has so much faith in your ability to achieve your goals. He wants to be able to help you in any way he can, so if you come to him and ask for help, he would be absolutely ecstatic! Ace just wants to be a part of your success story (in the best way possible, I know some people only want to because then they get credited but that’s not why ace wants to do it at all! Nothing makes Ace happier than seeing those he loves achieve their goals).

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

Your relationship is already spiced out enough as it is. He’s got an extremely mischievous personality so is constantly getting up to god knows what, and some how always manages to drag you into it. If anything, your relationship could do with a little more routine (but you both are extremely happy with the way it is).

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

Ace is an extremely empathetic individual. He understands a lot more than most, just how awful negative emotions can be (whether that’s sadness, insecurity, anger etc.). So he is quick to your aid whenever something seems to wrong.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

All relationships in Ace’s life are extremely important to him. He even values them more than his own life. Your relationship is no exception. You’ve shown him love, and accepted him for who he truly is, so there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you and he makes that very clear every single day.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

He knows all your food orders off by heart. And when I say all your food orders, I mean ALL of them. He knows your food orders for each of your different moods. He memorised them pretty quickly so that he could surprise you with food regardless of your mood.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

He is an extremely affectionate individual. Ace is practically attached to your hip at every possible moment. An arm will always be thrown around your waist or shoulders, and he literally wants to spend all day smothering you in kisses. He’s shameless when it comes to affection.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

He copes by talking about you to EVERYONE. He tells the crew stories about you (mind you these are stories not only that they’ve heard multiple times, but they were also there to witness themselves). It gets to the point where even Whitebeard is like “ya know what Ace, you can go visit them.”

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

As I said previously, all relationships in Ace’s life are extremely important to him. We saw what lengths he was willing to go to when Thatch was killed by Blackbeard, and you would be no different. In fact, Ace would be willing to do all of that and so much more, if it was for you.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #portgas d ace #fluff alphabet #one piece alphabet #portgas d ace x reader

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Ayato [VAMPIRE ENDING]

Monologue

ーー Screams echo through the castle halls.

No, not just inside the castle either.

When we stepped outside,

I realized those sounds were coming from all across the Demon World.

The final thing,

Karlheinz-san left behind...

It was a new world,

where a newborn species would live.

This world does not need demons nor humans.

Therefore, he will end them.

My body would not stop shaking.

However, I managed to keep going,

because Ayato-kun was there besides me.

His kindness transmitted through our connected hands,

is what pulled me back,

right before I got swallowed by the dark pits of despairーー

Male Vampire A: Gyaaaah!

Female Vampire A: No...Nooooooo!!

ー The scene shifts to the burning forest

Yui: Oh no...!! This is horrible...!!

Ayato: Is this...Is this the world he wished for?

All for this sake...!

New race, my ass. Fuck all of this...

Yui: Ayato-kun...

???: Ayato-kun! Bitch-chan!!

Ayato: ...!?

Yui: ( This voiceーー )

ー The other Sakamaki’s approach them

Ayato: You guys...

...Look at that. Still refusin’ to die, huh?

Laito: Nfu~ Of course we’re alive.

Kanato: I actually agree with Laito for once. We are not that weak to be done in by a few flames.

Ayato: Heh...Guess that’s true.

Yui: ( Thank god...I’m so glad to see everyone alive...! )

Reiji: More importantly...What is going on? The evening gala’s entire venue has gone up in flames.

Subaru: Che...There’s piles of corpses everywhere you look.

Yui: ( No way... )

Reiji: So? Where is Father? We must update him on the status quo.

Ayato: That...won’t be necessary.

Reiji: ...What do you mean?

Ayato: He died.

Reiji: ...

Shuu: ...Died?

Ayato: Yeah.

Reiji: This is not the time to joke around...

There is no way that man would die.

Ayato: It’s not a joke. He’s no longer around.

...And it was exactly what he wished for.

Reiji: ...

Ayato: Also...Kanato, Laito.

Kanato: Yes?

Ayato: Mom died as well.

Kanato: ...

Laito: ...I see...Okay...

???: That man...has passed away...?

ー The Mukami’s appear

Ruki: In that case...Sakamaki Ayato. Does that mean...You are Adam?

Yui: ( ...Did the Mukami’s know about this as well, perhaps...? )

Azusa: Eve...Ayato-san turned out...to be your Adam, huh...?

Kou: ...We...

Yuma: ...Ugh.

Reiji: Adam? What exactly are you talking about? Explain this at once!!

Yui: Wellーー

Monologue

In the following minutes,

we told them everything which had happened up till now.

Including the full details,

on the plan their Father - Karlheinz-san - wished for.

And thenーー

Reiji: ...Unbelievable...You claim that was Father’s wish...?

Ruki: And Adam and Eve were born right now...

Ayato: Adam? Eve? My ass!

I’m Yours Truly and Chichinashi is Chichinashi! Simple as that.

Shuu: ...Sounds like something you would say...

And? What are we going to do now? We can’t just sit around and do nothing forever, can we?

Ruki: We’re returning to the human world. Then I can think, about my path in life...

Kou: You mean ‘ours’, right?

Yuma: Exactly. Don’t talk as if you’re all by yerself now.

Ruki: ...You guys...

Azusa: ...Ruki...It’s just like they said. We’re brothers, remember?

Ruki: ...Yeah, you’re right.

There you have it...So long.

ー The Mukami’s leave

Yui: ( ...Guys... )

Ayato: They left...

Shuu: They sure did...I mean, it fits them so I see no problem? Pwaah...

ーー So, Ayato. What’s your plan?

Ayato: Well...

Yui: ( Right, we can’t stay stuck in place forever either. )

( We have to think about the future. )

Ayato: ...

I’ll stay here. With Yui by my side as well.

Yui: Ayato-kun...

Laito: Look at you talk, Ayato-kun! I’m impressed!

Kanato: ...Well, I suppose that’s fine. However, as you can see, Eden has been completely destroyed.

Ayato: ...Hehe. Oi oi, who do you think I am?

Don’t underestimate the Great Ayato-sama!

*WOOSH*

Yui: ( Ah...! Eden has stopped crumbling apart...? )

Reiji: ...I see.

If Father’s magic is what caused this destruction, then I suppose you can use your newly earned powers to stop it...?

Ayato: Haah, haah...I could have done this much with ease even without that jerk’s powers!

Subaru: ...I wonder...

Ayato: Aah!? What didya say!?

Reiji: Good grief...We just went through all of that, and look at you guys going at it again...

Yui: ( Reiji-san may say that but...I’m happy to have met up with everyone and be able to talk to them like this... )

Ayato: ...Tsk. ...Oi! Chichinashi!

Yui: Y-Yes!?

Ayato: Why do you look so relieved? Now that everything’s settled, you gotta get ready!

Women love that sorta stuff but they always take forever, don’t they?

Yui: Eh?

Ayato: Haah? You really don’t get it at all, do you?

Laito: Nfu~ You’re so dense, Bitch-chan.

It’s a little broken down, but when a guy asks you to live together in a castle like Eden...

There’s only one thing that could imply, right?

Yui: ...Um...

Ayato: Aah, god! You know...

ーー I obviously mean we have to get everythin’ ready for the wedding ceremony!

Yui: ...!

The two of us will...?

Ayato: Y-Yeah! I’ll make an exception for you. Only ‘cause I’ve got no other choice though!

Laito: ...Looks like someone can’t be honest with himself.

Ayato: Aah!? Excuse me!?

Laito: Oh, nothing~! Nfu~!

Yui: ( Ayato-kun and I will... )

( Oh no, this feels like a dream... )

Shuu: ...I mean, suit yourself.

Subaru: I don’t mind if that means less trouble for us.

Reiji: If you do not burden me, then please be my guest.

But, well...Since I am the only person here with some common sense, allow me to say one thing.

ーー Congratulations.

Yui: ( Reiji-san... )

Ayato: I decided I’m gonna do this shit so l will, regardless of what you guys say!

Ah, right. I guess I wouldn’t mind employin’ you guys as my servants at the castle?

Reiji: I kindly refuse. Haah...I am leaving now.

Ayato: Aah? Where exactly?

Reiji: Does that matter?

Honestly...Any place will do.

Father is no longer around. In that case, I see no reason for me to stay here.

ー Reiji leaves

Ayato: That’s why I asked wheーー

Subaru: I’m dippin’ as well.

I didn’t exactly live with you guys out of my own free will anyway. See you.

ー Subaru leaves as well

Shuu: I’ll go too then...Pwaah...Guess I’ll finally get some peace and quiet...

ー Shuu follows suit

Yui: ( They all left. Which leaves... )

Ayato: What ‘bout you two?

Laito: Hmー Let me think. I guess I could stick around.

There’s so much fun to be had with a newlywed couple, don’t you think~? Right, Kanato-kun?

Kanato: I’m afraid I can’t agree. I’m leaving as well.

ー Kanato leaves

Laito: Eehー Boring! Oh well...I guess it can’t be helped this time.

See you~! Ah! Send me an invitation to the ceremony, okay~?

ー Laito follows after Kanato

Yui: Ah...

...They all left.

Ayato: Hmph! A huge weight lifted off my shoulders, honestly!

Now it’s finally just the two of uー Woah.

...

...Come on, let’s go.

Yui: Y-Yeah...!

ー Ayato steps closer

*Smooch*

Ayato: ...Nn...

Yui: Wha...!?

Ayato: Guess I’ll kiss you before that at least.

Yui: ...B-Before? You already did, Ayato-kun...

Ayato: Shush!

Well, I guess kisses aren’t half bad.

Okay! Now we’re headed off for real.

Yui: Yeah...!

Monologue

Ayato-kun pulled me by my hand,

as I once again faced Eden.

This place is currently in ruins.

However, in my eyes,

it looked more beautiful than anything.

I wonder why?

That question immediately disappeared from my mind.

The answer,

more than anything, or anyone,

was right next to me after allーー

Ayato: ーー Oi, why are you takin’ forever?

Come here already.

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“I won’t let you go, no matter what happens. You better don’t take my love lightly.”

“I hope you made up your resolve when choosin’ me, Chichinashi? ...’Cause you’re mine forever now.”

Yui: ( Aah...What a peaceful day. )

( I’m so glad...Our ceremony is today. )

Ayato: Oi, whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout? Did you have other stuff on your mind when I’m here right in front of you?

Geez, I can never leave my guard down with you.

Yui: Fufu...Sorry...

Ayato: Hmph...

...Anyway...

Those guys just filled their belly and went on their merry ways afterwards. Same goes for those darn Mukami’s.

Who knows what those dudes have been up to this whole time, but for these occasions, they all show up all of a sudden.

Well, I guess it makes sense for them to show up, seein’ as I’m basically the King here now.

Yui: ( I wonder if I’m the only one...Who believes they’re actually looking out for us? )

Ayato: Oi, let me tell you, just in case.

Yui: Yes?

Ayato: I’m not with you ‘cause that’s part of his stupid plan.

Yui: Ayato-kun...

Ayato: I don’t give a damn ‘bout becomin’ the ‘saviors’ he talked of.

The Demon World’s a hot mess. But...

You’re right here in front of me.

That’s why I want to touch you. Want to embrace you.

Don’t want to let you go. Want you by my side...

In short, um...How do I say this...?

...

Aah, right!

ーー I love you, Yui.

...I love you...

No matter what becomes of the world, let’s be together.

That’s simply how I feel.

Yui: ( ...Ayato-kun... )

( I love you too. )

( From here on out, I’ll only ever trust you...and continue to love you. )

( Together...Forever... )

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfayatoending1

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formulatrash · 3 years

Note

hi! It’s totally fair if you don’t want to answer this question for whatever reason but, do you think there are any drivers in F1 that are part of the LGBTQ+ community? I don’t want to speculate on anyone’s sexuality, but it is a bit disheartening at times to see no representation whatsoever in the sport that I love so dearly... at the same time, it’s nobody’s duty to become a symbol for the community just because they’re a part of it, so I’d understand if they wanted to keep that low key, especially considering the amount of fans that would hate them for that only. It just makes me sad sometimes, not gonna lie.

I'm not gonna speculate publicly in any specific way, obviously. But statistically, it is impossible that there have never been LGBTQ+ F1 drivers - and actually there were two out ones, in Mike Beuttler (who sadly died of AIDS) and Lella Lombardi.

In other series, there are openly out drivers - in fact W Series seem to be basically incapable of stopping the drivers getting together, which is awesome and they should do it. And also kinda gives a lie to the idea rivals wouldn't.

There is a split between women's and men's sports in that basically sporting ladies seem to be like "wow, fit women time to openly drool over each other" and men being more pressured to keep it strictly no homo. It's nice that F1 drivers lately have been definitely more comfortable with being affectionate to each other and with deviating from very restrictive ideas of masculinity, although obviously that does not in any way imply their sexualities or gender status.

I think there are many reasons to be optimistic that an F1 driver could come out. Motorsport's landscape has changed - and the world, too - but of course, as you say, being the first is a sucky job and not, heh, one of the good kind.

Would they face some challenges? For sure. Some locations would be difficult - the UK, for instance, if a driver came out as trans. God, just imagining the thinkpieces from TERFs has made me nearly pass out.

I am sure there are LGBTQ+ people in the paddock beyond, whether that's in the media cohort (I mean, lmao, I am typing this why do I always exclude myself lol) or in the garages. And of course, the fans. As much as F1 talks about (even pre-pandemic) existing in its own bubble, of course it does not and while demographics are often skewed towards wealth and white western europeans, that doesn't affect the distribution of LGBTQ+ people.

Will it be godawful for the person who takes the first step? Yeah. You can't get away from the fact casual homophobia is pretty rife in F1, I'm regularly appalled by the sort of shitty jokes members of the media - who you'd think might be a bit less stuck in the jurassic period - will default to. Lots of people in F1 think they're a bit hardcore, that that's part of the image of the sport and it comes with both a strict conservatism and edgelord tendencies.

I think, with the right support, though, they'd be ok. Drivers generally have much better support systems now than ever before and god knows, it's cus they need 'em. From social media to the immediacy of reaction, everything from onboards to team radio to their Insta likes is under scrutiny and of course, that's gonna feel pretty oppressive in some ways.

(I know I hate it, as someone who gets a low-level version of it on Twitter)

But would their team or sponsors or the sport at large lose faith? No. And there would be, in the torrent of horrible stuff that's inevitable with any of these things, such support and inspiration.

It's a bit of a burden, being a figurehead and it's very easy to see why, for example, Lewis shrugged it off for a lot of his career because fuck knows, everyone's got enough to be getting on with with just the basic challenges of the career let alone having to be a representative. And it's why, with aspects you're not able to hide, people struggle - whether that's race, gender or whatever.

Living in the closet isn't a very satisfying option, though; which is the most convincing argument for how there might not have been any LGBTQ+ drivers other than the ones we know about. But it's more likely they grinned and bore it, of course. History's littered with people who never got to truly live as themselves.

It's very good having someone like Matt Bishop in a prominent role in F1. Because he can speak beyond the theoretical; that a team can welcome a gay head of communications and the paddock will have to and can work with them. That he's in a relative position of power is great because it means people can't chat shit and that means for someone without that relative power, they're protected by extension.

Who knows when more LGBTQ+ people will come along to the sport - but I think there's reason to be hopeful that they can be there.

#f1 asks

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hxwks-gf · 3 years

Text

» 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dabi x fem!reader

𝐰/𝐜: 1.8k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, sexual themes, smoking, angst without a happy ending (i’m sorry ;-;)

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: so read something on kisses and what they mean like forehead kisses mean protection. A kiss on the hand means adoration. Stuff like that. One that intrigued me the most was shoulder kisses which means you're willing to share someone's burden with them. So I was wondering how Dabi would react to things like that considering all that he's been through it's obvious he doesn't trust anyone. So what if he one day stumbles upon someone who kisses him in weird places. He thinks she just wants to get into his pants but then he finds out what those kisses mean and then I guess I'll leave the ending to you.

beta’d by the lovely and talented @a-monsters-love xoxo

Dabi cradled his phone between his shoulder and ear and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You want to come over tonight?” he asked into it, glancing around the state of his current living situation and making a face. “I don’t know, doll. I got some business to take care of.”

“Take me with you, then.”

He chuckled, taking the phone in his hand and facing the sink. “You know what kind of business I do, baby. Not a good influence on an angel like you.”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Dabi. I miss you.”

Dabi tipped his head back and sighed in defeat. “Fine. Only because you sound so desperate.”

“Asshole.”

“Heh, that’s my girl. I’ll pick you up in twenty.” Dabi ended the call and shoved the phone into the pocket of his trousers, running a hand through his dark hair and sighing again. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, taking you on his little business dealings so late at night. Despite you not being a stranger to the shittier side of town, he still had some strange urge to...look out for you? Dabi grimaced and shook his head. “Damn it.”

“Are you going out with that shifty dude again?” asked your roommate and friend, Isaki. She watched you from the ratty armchair in the corner, her various piercings reflecting the lights from the kitchen. “The one with all the scars?”

“His name is Dabi,” you reminded her while pulling on your leather jacket with a grin. “And watch who you call ‘shifty’, Miss Sticky Fingers.”

Isaki rolled her eyes and went back to flipping through the book in her lap. “If you end up on a missing persons poster, I won’t feel sorry for you.”

You chuckled as you opened the front door. “Yes, you will, because I’m the one who pays the rent, freeloader.”

“I don’t freeload, I pay for Netflix!” she shouted after you, but you closed the door before she could say anything else and skipped past the broken elevator and down the stairwell.

Dabi was waiting for you outside, leaning against the side of the building with a cigarette hanging from his scarred lips. Once he saw you, he stood up straight and grinned.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said as you neared him.

“Hi,” you said, pulling the cigarette from his lips and taking a long drag. “Miss me?”

“Not at all,” he replied, grabbing you by the waist and yanking you against his torso. He bent his neck and kissed you deeply, tasting of cigarettes and midnight air.

You slid a hand up to wrap around his neck, mindful of his scars, and buried it in the softness of his dark hair. He chuckled against your mouth and pulled away.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, looking down at you in his arms.

“You like me because I’m dangerous,” you shot back, taking another puff from the cigarette and blowing the smoke to the side. “Isn’t that right?”

“Something like that.” Dabi watched you through half-lidded eyes as you took one last drag and dropped it to put it out with the toe of your boot. “Ready to go?”

“One more,” you said, standing up on your tip-toes and placing another kiss on his parted lips. As you pulled away, you gently took his bottom lip in between your teeth and dragged them across the soft flesh. He groaned into your mouth and his grip tightened on your waist.

“Don’t do that, doll. You know how much I like that.”

“Why do you think I did it?” you teased, stepping out of his embrace and dancing away. You glanced over your shoulder at him.

His eyes were focused on your ass, but flicked up to your face a moment later with a roguish grin.

“Are we going to take care of business, or not?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

Dabi pushed himself off the side of the building and joined you, draping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you down the street, his other hand tucked in his pocket. As the two of you strolled along the dimly lit sidewalks, you couldn’t have felt more safe by his side.

“Are you ever going to tell me who you work for?” you asked him, pulling your post-sex-mussed shirt over your head and picking up your discarded pants.

He chuckled as he lit another cigarette, watching you with lazy, lustful eyes. “I’m sworn to secrecy, doll. Besides, for all I know you could be a spy.”

“I’d make a lousy spy,” you said, buttoning your pants. “I can’t ever keep a secret.”

Dabi took a drag and placed an arm behind his head. “Why do you want to know who I work for, then?”

You shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed to put your boots back on. “Curiosity.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

“That’s true,” you said with a smirk, forgetting your boots and climbing back onto the bed. He looked up at you as you straddled him, placing your hand on his bare, scarred chest. You leaned down and pressed tantalizing kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and back to his lips. “But satisfaction brought it back,” you murmured against his mouth.

“Jesus,” Dabi groaned, his free hand traveling along your thigh and under your shirt. “Keep talking like that and I’m not letting you leave this apartment.”

You laughed and slid off of him. “Isaki’ll kill you.”

“Not the first time someone’s tried.” He dropped his cigarette into the nearby ashtray and leaned in for another kiss.

“Funny,” you said, reaching out and cradling his scarred cheek. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Dabi sighed and leaned back. “Alright.” He turned around and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his back facing you.

You bit your lip and looked away. You wanted to stay, sure. You loved being around him. The sex was always amazing. But you also knew that he wasn’t the relationship type; you were afraid that if you got too comfortable, you would wake up one day and he would be gone. That, and the fact that it didn’t take a PhD to figure out that his line of work was dangerous, even for you.

The only thing you could do was lean forward and press a gentle kiss to his exposed shoulder, as a means to express that he meant more to you than just some hook-up. Dabi tensed beneath your lips, but said nothing. After a quiet moment passed, you pulled away to retrieved your forgotten boots.

Dabi leaned against the railing on your patio and exhaled the cigarette smoke into the cold night air, scrolling through his text messages on his phone with his other hand. The moonlight illuminated his scarred face and dark hair as he took another drag.

Laughter from within your apartment pulled his attention away from his phone and he looked up through the glass sliding door. Immediately, he felt that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that always seemed to arise every time he saw you, and this time was no different. You were laughing at some stupid joke your roommate said, head thrown back to expose that beautiful neck he loved to sink his teeth into while he fucked you. But...he also noticed your smile, your sparkling eyes, and the way your shirt had slipped off your shoulder in the midst of your laughter. This wasn’t happening.

Dabi took another drag and irritably tapped a finger along the side of his phone as he exhaled. He tore his gaze away from your smiling face and stared down at the screen, eyes scanning the text he had gotten from Shigaraki, something about another dumbass mission he needed to go on with Twice, of all people. He’d rather get stuck with Toga.

“Christ,” he muttered, putting the cigarette out in the ashtray and tucking his phone into his pocket. He glanced up at you again, only to find that you were now gazing back at him with such a lovely, oblivious expression on your beautiful face. Dabi had known how you felt about him for a while now, you were always so painfully obvious. And maybe in another life he would feel the same way.

But this was his life, and the text on his phone felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in his pocket. His mind wandered to the last few nights you had spent together, all shared breaths and moans and tangled legs. He remembered the way you had placed those tender kisses along his shoulder. Out of sheer curiosity, he had looked up what they meant, and it only made what he was about to do that much harder.

Dabi slid open the glass door and slipped inside the apartment again, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the cold. You looked up from whatever you were cooking in your small kitchen, a grin splitting across your face.

“There you are,” you said cheerfully, wiping your hands on a towel as he approached you.

“Hey doll,” he said, instinctively reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He pulled his hand away like it had burned him. “Something came up and I have to head out.”

“Oh,” you said, crestfallen. “Alright. I’ll walk you out.”

Dabi gave a goodbye gesture to Isaki, who said nothing. He shrugged and followed you out into the hallway.

“Duty calls,” he tried to joke through the awkward silence, but joking never really suited him.

You gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Right.”

Dabi tucked his hands into his pockets and stared at you. “Look...there’s something we gotta talk about, doll.”

“You don’t have to say anything else, Dabi,” you said, turning your face away from him. No, he wanted to cry out. Please don’t look away from me.

But, “It’s for the best,” was all he could say.

“Of course it is.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked down at your bare feet, knowing that he would never again get the chance to run his thumb along the inside of the arch while the two of you laid together in whatever bed he had for the night. He brought his eyes back up to your face, noticing the way your jaw was clenched and your eyebrows were pulled together.

Maybe in another life.

“Take care of yourself,” Dabi finally said, turning to walk away.

“You should learn to take your own advice,” you softly replied.

He looked at you over his shoulder and smiled. “Yeah, maybe I should.” And with that, he disappeared around the corner and left behind the one thing that had brought him happiness in all his tortured years of living.

#yeah i hurt my feelings with this #dabi #todoroki touya #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi x you #angst #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #dabi angst #league of villains #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia fanfiction #dabi fanfic #bnha angst

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

@fabro-de-omres HOLD UP BESTIE, I GOT ONE LAST FIC FOR YOUR LIST-

Star-Ninja!

Prompts: Siblings and Competition

Word Count: 5,884

Characters: The ninja

Timeline: Snapshots throughout the series

Trigger Warnings: None

Summary: What happens when the loveable gremlin the ninja adopted off of the streets introduces them to Starfarer comics?

Chaos ensues, of course.

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

“Take that! And that! Oh, yeah-” Jay leaped to his feet, grinning. “Die, lava zombies, die!”

Level complete. The words flashed across the screen, and Jay whooped. Only one more level and he would beat Zane’s high score.

“You could’ve beaten it faster if you had taken out the little guys first.”

Jay whipped around to see the little wispy-haired kid draped over the arm of the couch, staring at the TV screen with a glazed, listless look in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Jay snapped.

“I’m borrrred,” he whined, kicking his legs against the couch. “Can I play with you?”

“No.”

“Can I use the training course?”

“No, you’re not a ninja.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“It’s not our job to entertain you, kid.”

“I didn’t ask to be kidnapped by you,” Lloyd snapped.

Jay felt his face flush. “So you’d rather still be with the Serpentine?”

“Well no, I just wanna have a choice!”

Jay stared at him for a moment. I don’t know his whole story. He’s a kid who’s been dealt a bad hand in life. He exhaled slowly. “Look, Lloyd, you’re just a kid. I know it’s hard for you to understand- but you’ve caused a lot of trouble. The Serpentine are dangerous, and you don’t know enough to deal with them. You just gotta trust us, okay?”

Lloyd sighed dramatically, sliding off of the couch and onto the floor. “Yeah, whatever.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Can’t you find something to do for a little while? Please? I’ll talk with Sensei about what we’re going to do with you as soon as he gets back.”

To his surprise, Lloyd actually left him alone, and Jay turned back to his game. He knew it wasn’t a very responsible move, but he had never agreed to babysit the kid. Besides, they were going hunting for Serpentine again tomorrow, so it would likely be Jay’s last chance to have some downtime for an entire week.

By the time Jay had finally beaten the top score, his fingers were sore from playing. Flopping onto the couch, he glanced up at the clock. It had been an hour since he had sent Lloyd off, and he hadn’t heard so much as a peep from the kid.

Jay had only known him for a couple of days, but already that seemed like suspicious behavior.

He headed into the storage room that Sensei had scrapped together into a makeshift bedroom for his nephew. Lloyd was sprawled across his mattress, reading a book.

I guess he’s not up to anything. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge him. Jay turned to leave before stopping suddenly and whirling back around.

“Hey!” he yanked the book out of Lloyd’s hands. “Is this a Starfarer comic? Have you been snooping around in my room?”

“No! I haven’t touched your stupid stuff. Figures, the one time I actually didn’t do anything wrong, you blame me.”

“Have you not heard of The Boy who Cried Wolf?” “What?”

“Nevermind.” Jay examined the comic. It was an old edition, but not one he owned. Besides, the cover was wrinkled and there were dog ears on several pages. Jay would never treat his comics so harshly. “If it’s not mine, then whose is it?”

“It’s mine. Is it so hard to believe that I don’t steal everything?’

“No, I mean, you like Starfarer?”

“Of cou- I, uh, I mean, Starfarer’s for babies, ha. I’m only reading this because it’s the only book I have and you wouldn’t give me anything else to do.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I guess I’ll have to go enjoy my Starfarer comic collection on my own, then. Since it’s too babyish for big kids like you.”

“Your what?” Lloyd was suddenly sticking to him like a barnacle. “You collect Starfarer comics?”

“Not just comics.” He grinned as he watched Lloyd’s eyes widen. “Movies, posters, action figures- you name it.”

“No way! Can I see? Please, please? Just for a second-” Jay put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. “Hang on, kiddo. I thought Starfarer was for babies?”

Lloyd shifted on his feet. “Well, I didn’t really mean that, I just- I was just testing you!”

Jay raised an eyebrow, smothering a laugh. “Uh huh. If you’re such a master, why aren’t you reading the new comics?”

Lloyd looked down, shuffling his feet. “I… this is the newest one I have. We didn’t really get many opportunities to buy what we wanted at Darkley’s. Especially not a book about superheroes. Because we were super busy being evil and stuff, heh.”

Jay felt his heart twist. Am I really pitying Lloyd Garmadon right now just because of some comics?

Although, when he looked at Lloyd now, he didn’t see the annoying, mischievous son of a villain. He saw a wide-eyed, naive kid looking at Jay with such hope that it was hard not to feel a strong urge to protect him from the burdens of the world.

Jay crouched down next to him. “Y’know what? I’ll show you my newer comics. You can even keep some, if you like.”

“Really? You’re not messing with me?”

“As long as you promise not to treat them like that.” Jay gestured towards the wrinkled comic. “Seriously, dude, you better go wash your grubby little hands before I even let you within five feet of my stuff.”

Jay didn’t think he’d ever seen Lloyd be in such a hurry to do anything.

---

“What’s this do?”

Nya snatched Lloyd’s hand away from the control panel. “Don’t touch that!”

“But what about-”

“Or that! Just-” She took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair. “Don’t touch anything unless I specifically tell you to, okay?”

“Well, then what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, find something. I’m not here to babysit you, Lloyd, I’m managing the comms. It’s important to make sure we stay in touch with the guys when they are on their mission.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he huffed. “Why couldn’t they take me with them? I am a ninja now. I could’ve bashed in some Serpentine heads!”

Nya glanced at him, glaring defiantly in his oversized gi. “I’d hardly call you a ninja, squirt. You haven’t even grown into that gi yet.”

“Yes, I have! See, it fits me perfectly!”

“...Lloyd, those pant legs almost completely cover your shoes.”

“They do not! Uncle Wu said I was a ninja.”

“A ninja in training, at best,” Nya corrected.

“What’s the use of being the green ninja if I don’t get anything fun out of it?”

“One day, green machine. You just have to be patient.”

He groaned loudly, flopping onto the chair. “I hate being patient.”

“No! You? Impatient? Who would’ve guessed?”

“Can’t you at least show me how to turn on the alarms?”

“No. Alarms are for emergencies only.”

“It is an emergency! I’m going to die of boredom!”

“Fine,” Nya relented. “What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone- and stay out of trouble? Can I rent you a movie?”

“Ooh, can I watch Zombies: Back for Revenge? Or Ghost Story? Or Dawn of Destruction?”

“Nope, nope, and nope. Too scary, too mature, too violent. Pick something more family-friendly, Lloyd.”

He pouted. “Kai got to watch those movies.”

“Yeah, well, Kai’s older than you and is responsible for his own actions. If you watch those, you’ll be up all night with nightmares and Sensei will never trust me again.”

“I won’t have nightmares! He’ll never know! Please, Nya.”

“No. End of discussion. Pick something else or nothing at all. Remember, it’s my money paying for the movie here. What about those… space wars movies you love?”

“It’s Starfarer,” Lloyd snapped, although his expression looked considerably lighter. “There’s one I haven’t seen yet…”

After Lloyd showed her the movie and she paid for it, Nya turned back to the control panel and checked for messages from the guys. Still nothing.

She really hated when they left her in the dark like that.

There were sounds of explosions from behind her, and a cheer from Lloyd- she glanced over her shoulder to see him grinning gleefully at the screen as the main characters blew something up. She shook her head- what was it with young boys and explosions?- but she couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto her face. Glancing over at the comms, she double-checked that no one had said anything.

The guys obviously weren’t taking the effort to communicate with her. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick break.

Sitting down next to Lloyd, she focused her attention on the movie. It seemed nonsensical and boring at first, but after a bit, Lloyd started explaining things to her, and, to her surprise, she found herself happy to listen. As it got later, his talking slowed, and at some point- Nya couldn’t quite identify when- Lloyd was leaning against her side, snuggling with their shared blanket.

Nya watched him carefully. She hadn’t cuddled with anyone like this since she had been younger, with Kai- but then, she had been the younger one, the one being protected. Now, she was experiencing what she imagined Kai must’ve felt, and despite how annoying he could be, Nya felt a strong urge to pull him close and never let him go.

She understood their reluctance to let Lloyd fight fully now. She didn’t want to ever send him off into battle, especially not the Final Battle.

How could this sweet, stubborn little wisp of a child be the green ninja?

Many hours and three movies later, Nya was afraid to even look at the clock. Rubbing Lloyd’s head, she murmured, “It’s way past your bedtime, kiddo.”

“‘m not tired,'” he mumbled in an obviously tired voice.

“I already let you stay up way later than you should be.”

“Just one more movie!” “Lloyd! These things are two hours long!”

“I promise I’ll go right to bed after!”

“That’s what you said after the last one.”

“Well, I really mean it this time.”

“No way.”

“Please?” Lloyd suddenly looked a lot more nervous, twisting his hands together. “Just… just until we hear something. From the ninja.”

“Oh, Lloyd.” She put a hand on his back. “It’s okay. They’re okay. Most likely, they just forgot to report back. They do that all the time.”

“But we don’t know that.”

“...Yeah. You’re right. We don’t.”

“Is it always this scary? Waiting for them to talk to you, not knowing what’s going on?”

Nya nodded slowly. “Yeah, a lot of the time it is, bud. But eventually, you learn to trust them. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t worry about their safety, but I know they are strong and capable and can take care of themselves.” Lloyd nodded. “That makes sense.”

He still didn’t look quite content with her answer, though. Nya leaned in, murmuring to him.

“Tell you what. What if we watch half of one more movie?”

Man, she was turning into such a disgustingly gross softie for this kid so fast, wasn’t she.

But the wide, genuine smile that split across his face made it worth it.

---

Kai stood in front of the long expanse of bookshelves, stacked with dozens and dozens of comics.

“Excuse me,” Kai gestured to the nearest bookstore employee, and he walked over. “Which part is the Starfarer section?”

The employee blinked at him. “You’re already in it. This entire wall is Starfarer.”

Kai gawked at the wall in utter amazement. There had to be at least a hundred books there. How were these many Starfarer comics even possible?

“Which one is the best one?” he asked the employee.

The man pushed his glasses up his nose, looking increasingly annoyed with Kai’s lack of Starfarer knowledge. “That’s hardly a straightforward question. Starfarer is our most popular franchise, they’re all popular. It’s impossible to pick one book. If you’re looking for our most popular selling comics of all time, that would be volumes 1, 32, 45, and 79. As for comics trending right now, that, of course, would be the most recent ones, 273 through 282. Although volume 13 has seen a sudden influx in readership. If you are looking for those with the best ratings-”

How do I say, ‘which comic is best for my little brother who was just aged up several years, without warning, and I want to help him regain his sense of childhood?’

Deciding this wasn’t going to be helpful, Kai gently dismissed the employee and began looking on his own. He tried to pick out ones with interesting covers, but ended up throwing many of them back after skimming the summaries on the back.

That wasn’t working very well either, and Kai was just about to throw the towel in and grab some random comics and hope for the best- or worse, call Jay and ask for help- when he decided to open one comic to skim it.

This quickly turned into a mistake, because before Kai knew it, five minutes had turned into an hour, and he had completely finished the comic. One comic turned into two, then five. He only was able to yank himself from his reading when he got a text from Zane asking where he was and that dinner was going to be ready soon.

Gathering up a large handful of the comics he had liked, Kai headed back towards the Bounty on his motorbike.

He found Lloyd on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with earbuds in. He pulled them out when he saw Kai, his gaze darting curiously towards the stack of comics.

“I got you these,” Kai said, setting them down next to him. “I know things are… different now, with you being older, but you’re always going to be my little brother. And I wanted you to know that just because you’re physically older doesn’t mean you have to stop doing the things you love. So if you still want to make doodles for our fridge, or make your food into shapes on your plate, or read Starfarer comics, no one’s going to judge you.”

Lloyd picked up a comic, slowly leafing through it. He was quiet for so long that Kai began to worry that he had completely messed something up. But when he finally spoke, he simply said, “You read it.”

“I… what?”

A smile spread across Lloyd’s face. “You read these before you bought them. Didn’t you?”

Kai spluttered. “I- what? That doesn’t make any sense! You have no proof!”

“The pages are creased over here. You always crease back the pages when you have a book. And there’s a slight depression here that shows the presence of fingers. Too big to be Jay’s or Nya’s, and too small to be Zane’s or Cole’s.”

Kai blinked at him. “You pay way too much attention to people, don’t you?”

“Hey, I paid attention during training, y’know!”

“More than we give you credit for, apparently.”

“I just can’t believe I spent all those months trying to pressure you to read Starfarer and you suddenly pick it up when I’m not even forcing you.”

“Shut up.” Kai shoved him gently. “It was a one-time thing. I was only doing it so I could find a comic you would like,”

“Yeah, so it makes sense you would look at them for five hours.”

“How did you- I mean, I didn’t go to the bookstore right away! I was doing other things! I only went there a few minutes before I came home!”

“Oh, yeah?” Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “What ‘other things?’”

“Uh, very important ninja business, like, um… patrol?”

“Cole returned from patrol two hours ago.”

“Well, this was a super-secret different patrol that Cole doesn’t even know about.”

“Really. Does Sensei know?”

“Nope. Just me.”

Lloyd elbowed him playfully. “You’re gonna have to watch all the movies with me now, y’know.”

“No way. Aren’t there like, fifty of those?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“No, thanks.”

“You have to! It’s part of the experience. Wait until I tell Jay you’re into it now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You bet I would!” Lloyd looked over at the pile of comics again, examining them more closely. “Nice, these are some good ones. Which ones did you read?”

“Um. The ones I bought?”

Lloyd looked up at him, his grin fading. “But like… not just these, right? You read others? In between them?”

“No… is this supposed to be some sort of poke at me being a slow reader-”

“No! I just can’t believe you read them in this order! Seriously, you couldn’t have gotten it any more wrong! You’ve ruined the whole series for yourself!”

“Oh, that’s such a shame, guess you better not tell Jay, then-”

“Oh, no way, you’re still getting into the fandom. We’re going to fix this. Come look at my comics. We’re going to read them together, and I’m gonna show you how to do it right.”

“Oh, is that Zane calling for dinner-”

“Nice try,” Lloyd smirked. “But you’ve entered the Starfarer fandom now. You’re in it, good and deep. There’s no coming back from this, Kai.”

“Glad to see your psychotic gremlin tendencies weren’t lost in the tea,” Kai grumbled. “Probably the one thing I could’ve gone without.”

---

“Are you out of your mind? The movie adaptions of Starfarer are way better.”

“Okay, there is clearly no hope left for you, Lloyd. The show is far superior to any of the movies.”

“Are you kidding? The budget for the show was so much lower! They just used a bunch of cheap, corny special effects, the movies were much smoother!”

“Visuals aren’t the most important thing, Lloyd. The show had a smaller storyboard team, meaning their ideas were more consistent and developed. The plot is overall much more in-depth in the show, and the extended time also gives them more space to do what they want.”

“It also leaves a lot of space for pointless filler! The movies are more direct. Every scene is important. Whereas I can name half a dozen episodes from the show- and that’s just on the top of my head- that were completely useless and would not change the plot at all if discarded.”

“You’re insane, every filler episode had importance! Some just showed it in smaller ways than others.”

“They could’ve fit the minor details into the other episodes!”

“Yeah, but filler is nice sometimes. Getting some more chill episodes between all the action is good.”

“No way, they’re boring and ruin the pacing. The movies have you on the edge of your seat throughout the whole thing.”

Zane sighed, glancing over at Jay and Lloyd. Their argument was getting increasingly more physical, with each boy attempting to tower over the other- not an easy task, considering they were both short.

“Can you two please be quiet? Or at least take this somewhere else? I’m trying to watch the news to make sure there aren’t any danger reports in Ninjago City.”

Jay suddenly whirled on him. “Zane! That’s it!”

“...What’s it?”

“Zane should decide! Which is better? The Starfarer movies, or the show?” Turning to Lloyd, he added, “Since he’s a nindroid, he’ll be the least biased of all of us.”

“One problem,” Lloyd said. “Zane hasn’t watched either.”

“Well, then, he’ll have to watch them,” Jay shrugged.

Zane glanced back and forth between them. “You want me to watch twenty-seven movies. And all seven seasons of the TV show. Just to help you win a disagreement.”

“It’s actually eight seasons,” Lloyd corrected.

“Exactly!” Jay beamed. “You’ll do great. Get back to us when you’ve watched them all and have formed an opinion. The sooner the better, so that I can prove Lloyd wrong as quickly as possible.”

“Hey! If anything, I’m going to prove you wrong!” “No way! The show-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it!” Zane stood up suddenly, putting his hands between them before another argument could break out. “Just stop fighting. Please.”

“You got yourself a deal,” Jay winked.

Two weeks and over a hundred hours of content later, Jay and Lloyd were staring at him expectantly over the dinner table.

“Well? What’s the verdict?”

Zane blinked at them with glassy eyes. “They were both very good. I enjoyed them. However, I feel like I never want to watch a minute of Starfarer ever again.”

“Seriously?” Lloyd fumed. “We waited all this time for him to not even properly answer the question?”

“Who cares about the question?” Cole grumbled. “Zane was so tired from watching your guys’ dumb Starfarer stuff, he messed up the gumbo.” Cole drew a spoon listlessly through the stew. “This is my favorite meal. I’m never forgiving you guys for messing it up.”

“Starfarer isn’t stupid,” Jay and Lloyd cried at once. They blinked at each other, surprised, and Kai and Nya laughed.

“I think that’s the first thing they’ve agreed on all week,” Nya grinned.

“It won’t last,” Kai murmured to her as the green and blue ninja set on Cole for his statement on Starfarer. “I give them two days to find something else to bicker about.”

---

“Hurry, Nya, he’s almost at the navigation!”

“I’m trying!” Nya bit her lip, an iron grip on her video game controller. “He’s sabotaged the security system!”

“No-”

Game over flashed across the screen, and Jay leaped to his feet, cheering. Nya rolled her eyes, tossing down her controller, while Zane, Lloyd, and Kai watched with disappointment.

“I can’t believe he won again,” Kai huffed. “How is he still undefeated? We’ve been playing this game for weeks.”

“I thought you were supposed to be good at this, Lloyd,” Nya grumbled. “You’re the Starfarer expert. You’ve got so many hours logged on here.”

“I’d like to point out that I’ve gotten closer to beating him than any of you have,” he snapped. “The last time I was only seconds away from winning.”

“Yeah, well, close isn’t good enough,” Kai said. “We need to beat him. Otherwise, it will get to his head.”

“Clearly none of us are going to be winning any time soon,” Nya groaned.

“There is someone who hasn’t played against him yet,” Zane mused. “Someone who has a track record of beating Jay’s top scores in games.”

Five gazes drifted towards the chair on the other side of the room. Cole looked up from his book when he realized the others were looking at him. “What do you want this time?”

“You gotta beat Jay in Starfarer: Alien Invasion 3,” Lloyd insisted, at his side immediately. “He’s undefeated. You know how unbearable he gets when he’s cocky.”

Cole blinked slowly up at them. “I don’t know the first thing about Starfarer.”

“I can teach you,” Lloyd begged. “Just do it. Please. Since when have you passed up an opportunity to beat Jay in something?”

Jay grinned. “Admit it, guys, I’ve defeated you. There’s no way Cole will ever win against me.”

Cole stood up abruptly. “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that. Lloyd, give me that controller. Jay’s about to get a serving of humility.”

For what appeared to be just another mundane rendition of a classic monster-fighter game, it surprised Cole to find it was actually much more complex and engaging.

It would’ve actually been really fun, had Jay not been so ridiculously goated at the game.

“What? Your character is invulnerable to the imperial sludge? How is that fair?”

Jay scoffed. “If you had read the Aliens Strike Back arc of Starfarer comics, you would’ve known that.”

“This totally isn’t fair. You have a bunch of background knowledge on Starfarer that I don’t.”

“It’s not our fault you’re the only one who hasn’t read or watched any Starfarer,” Lloyd said.

“Oh no,” Cole groaned. “You guys are dragging me into this too, aren’t you?”

---

“Where’s my copy of issue 117 of Starfarer?”

Jay looked up from the counter, where he was munching on crackers. “Like I would know, Lloyd. It’s not my responsibility to keep track of where you put your stuff.”

“I know exactly where I put it. But it’s gone now! I left it on my nightstand last night, right next to my bed. I haven’t touched it since.”

“Well, evidently, you have, since it’s not there now.”

“No, I didn’t touch it! Someone must’ve moved it!”

“And? I don’t see how this is my problem.”

“Everyone knows you’re the biggest Starfarer fanboy on the team apart from me, and I happen to be aware that you don’t own that particular comic.”

“I didn’t steal your comic, Lloyd.”

“Oh yeah? Then what happened to it?”

“Don’t ask me!” “You know that’s my favorite issue, Jay.”

“So? You think I’d take it just to spite you?”

“I think you’d-”

He cut off as Kai meandered into the kitchen, eating crackers and reading a comic.

Lloyd’s eyes widened. “Hey! That’s my missing comic!”

Kai glanced up at him. “You said I could borrow it.” “I did not! And give it to me, before you get cracker crumbs all over it!”

Kai rolled his eyes as Lloyd snatched it from him. “Alright, fine, take your dumb comic.”

Jay crossed his arms. “I think you owe me an apology, Lloyd.”

Lloyd stuck his tongue out at him, and Jay returned the gesture.

“Hey!” They turned to see Nya strolling into the room behind Kai, elbowing her brother sharply. “You said I could have that comic once you finished it.”

“Seriously, Kai? You can’t go around giving my comic to people without asking.”

“I wasn’t going to give it to her! She’s lying!” “Excuse me? You literally just said that like ten minutes ago-”

Zane and Cole joined them not long after, glancing around. “Guys! What’s with all the racket?”

“Kai promised me his Starfarer comic after he was done-”

“It’s not Kai’s, it’s mine! And he took it from me without asking and just auctioned it off to Nya!” “I didn’t auction off anything, it’s not like she paid me for it. Although, that's honestly not a bad idea…”

“What is this, a monopoly?” Jay asked. “We’re not paying for comics we already own, that’s dumb.”

“Yeah,” Lloyd agreed, “especially when they were mine in the first place.”

“Liar! Most of them were mine!” Jay insisted. “I should get dominion over my own comics!”

“Just because you own the most doesn’t mean you own all of them,” Lloyd countered. “You may have more comics by sheer number, but I have more rare comics than you and, overall, my comics have a higher value.”

“I’m sick of you two always deciding everything about Starfarer,” Cole said. “Why can’t one of us regulate the comics?”

“Whoever gets control over the comics is just going to have bias and distribute them to their advantage.”

“I think I would be the most responsible man for the job-”

“Stop lying to yourself, dirtclod, I’d obviously be better-”

“Better than Kai, yeah, if you’re trying to set the bar low.”

“Excuse me?”

“Guys,” Lloyd interrupted, slamming his fists down on the table. “There’s only one solution to settle this. We have a competition. Winner gets control over the Starfarer comics for… let’s say, the next six months.”

Kai cracked his knuckles, grinning. “You had me at competition.”

---

“When you said, ‘competition,’ somehow I was expecting something a little more grandiose than this.”

The ninja had gathered around the kitchen table, glancing down at the box Lloyd had dropped there. Starfarer: Galaxy Wars, it read.

“Yeah, Lloyd,” Cole agreed. “A board game? Seriously?”

“Not just any board game. The most popular, most difficult, most fun game out there. It is truly for the Starfarer master. Part roleplay, part strategy, part trivia- it puts your Starfarer knowledge to the test. That way, we know whoever wins this didn’t just get the win out of chance, but actually deserves it.”

Nya raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I guess. But you better not be an expert at this game.”

Lloyd shook his head. “I’ve only played it a few times, I promise.”

“Okay then,” Kai said. “May the best ninja win.”

As usual, that lasted about five minutes until they were all yelling at each other.

“Oh, come on!” Cole threw down his card. “I got stuck in the Imperial Sludge Swamp again?”

“Ha!” Jay leaned forward, moving his piece across the board, jumping over Cole’s pawn. “Next time you know to pick a character with better environmental perks.”

“Cole’s character is more well-rounded, though,” Zane pointed out. “If you are unable to gather enough energy before the end, it is likely the aliens will take you out.”

“Quit your yapping and let me take my turn.” Kai snatched the dice from Jay’s hand and tossed them- landing a perfect 12.

“You’re cheating!” Nya snapped. “That’s the third turn in a row you’ve rolled higher than a ten. Are you using weighted dice or something?”

“He’s using the exact same dice I just used, Nya.”

“It’s called skill,” Kai scoffed. “Maybe someday, you can be as good as me.”

“Rolling dice is completely based on chance! If the best skill you can boast is being able to roll high numbers, I think I’m doing pretty well.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see how useless it is once I win this thing and get total control over all the Starfarer comics.”

“Fat chance,” Nya huffed as Kai moved his piece.

“Oh, look at that, I found a pile of scrap metal! I get to roll again!”

“Are. You. Kidding me!”

“Wait,” Zane put a hand on Nya’s shoulder. “He’s right by the alien spaceship. If he gets an 11 or less, he’ll be on their turf and they’ll shoot him down, kidnap him, or confront him, depending on his stats. The only way he could possibly get through this without negative consequences is by rolling a 12.”

“There’s no way he’ll do it again,” Cole agreed. “Nya, this is your chance to overtake him.”

“Let’s see.” Kai grabbed the two dice and shook up his hands. He shook and shook, stopped to blow on the dice, then shook some more-

“Just roll the stupid dice,” Cole snapped.

Kai dropped the dice, and time seemed to move in slow motion. Lloyd held his breath, leaning forward-

And watched as the dice rolled one six, then another.

A perfect roll.

“Cheating!” Nya cried. “Cheating, I tell you! There’s no way this is possible.”

“We can’t let him win,” Jay groaned. “He won’t share any comics with us.” “Not true! I’ll let Lloyd have one.”

“Only one?” “That’s better than none at all,” Jay snapped. “At least he’s giving you something.”

“He’s not going to be giving me anything, because he’s not going to win.”

Kai grinned, gesturing at the dice. “Sure, be my guest. See if you can beat me.”

Lloyd rolled, earning a seven.

Jay hissed between his teeth. “Tough luck, green bean- you get injured and robbed by aliens.”

“Actually,” Lloyd said, slipping a card from his pile and slamming it down on the middle of the table. “I don’t, because I play this special ability card, allowing me to pick the number of spaces I travel. I choose 10, landing myself on the abandoned spacecraft. Then I use my character’s high level mechanics skills and use this card-” he slammed down another card that showed scrap metal reserves- “to instantly fix the ship. Then I spend my energy points to get another turn, use the gas from my generator to fuel the ship, and then am able to fly the ship back to the base and restore the artifacts. According to the manual, it would take three days from my location, and Kai, the closest, would take five days in his slower spacecraft, meaning it is impossible for anyone to beat me back, and I win the game.”

For a moment, they were silent, gaping at him.

“How?” Cole murmured. “Dude, how did you do that?”

“He just crossed half the board in one turn,” Kai spluttered. “And I was about to win! That shouldn’t even be possible!”

“How many moves were you planning ahead?” Zane shook his head. “Your strategy appears to be far more complex than any of us were anticipating for this kind of game.”

“I knew something was up when he kept stashing his ability cards,” Jay groaned. “We were all using ours, but he hardly used any- he was saving them up to use them all in a big power move and catch us off guard, the little rascal!”

“You liar,” Nya hissed. “You said you only played this game a few times! This was way too complicated of a plan for a novice player.”

“Technically, that’s true,” Lloyd grinned. “I have only played a few times. But I never said how long I played for each time.”

“You conniving little gremlin.”

“Now, Nya,” Lloyd scolded in a sagely voice, barely able to suppress his laughter, “I’d be careful how you speak to me from now on. If you’re rude, I may not give you any Starfarer.”

“Yeah, this is going to get old, very quickly.”

“I can’t believe it,” Jay sighed. “You never share comics with us.”

Lloyd gawked at him. “Are you kidding? It’s because of my sharing that you guys are even into Starfarer in the first place! Jay was the only one who knew about it before I came, but even he didn’t tell anyone else he was a fanboy and kept stuff hidden in boxes. When I showed interest, do you remember how excited you got? You took everything out, just for me.”

Zane shook his head, smiling. “I still can’t believe you got me to binge the entire series.”

“Or how I spent hours investing in that game and tracking down all that information in the comics just to beat Jay’s high score? Which I crushed, by the way.”

Jay scowled. “For the last time, you beat me by five points! You didn’t crush anyone.”

Cole scoffed. “Someone’s just jealous. If it weren’t for Lloyd, I would’ve never beat you.”

“You showed us all something we love, huh, squirt?” Kai ruffled his hair, and Lloyd pulled away, like usual, but grinned at him, bumping his shoulder gently.

“Remember when you used to get all upset at me for slacking off and reading Starfarer comics during training?”

Kai reddened. “That was different! We were preparing you for the Final Battle, there was a lot to be done.”

“Hypocrites,” Lloyd whispered, giggling as he ducked a swing from Kai.

“Well, what are you going to do now, ‘master of the comics?’” Jay asked. “Hoard all the books to yourself? Read in front of us to taunt us?” “Tempting,” Lloyd said, “but I think first, I want to play another round of the Starfarer board game.”

Cole blinked. “Lloyd, it’s seven pm. And this took us like five hours to get through the first time.”

The ninja blinked at each other.

“Oh, it’s on!”

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #rosie writes #lloyd garmadon #jay walker #ninjago kai #ninjago nya #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #ahhh this is my last bingo fic!#its been so fun thank you all!#I'm especially grateful for Fabro :)#without this event we might've never been anything more than just acquaintances :)#im so glad we're friends now #luv u bestie #thanks for being so supportive and for hosting this event!#thanks for reading!#reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

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iheartgarrus · 3 years

Text

MERweek 2021 - Day 2: Long Time No See

Yes, I know we’re almost done with Day 3 already (in my time zone anyway), but I’m going at my own pace on these things. Meet Viola’s mom! Viola has a backstory adapted from the Earthborn and Spacer backgrounds - you don’t need to know all about it to read this, but there are little references. If you’re curious, I summarized it here.

Not sold on this title. Doesn’t quite work tonally, I don’t think. But I picked it because it’s a lyric from my mom’s favorite song. This takes place a few months after Shepard’s arrest post-Arrival. Fair warning: this is seriously nothing but talking.

Title (working): Darlin’, May I Intrude? Rating: T Content: Language; rocky mother/daughter relationship Pairing: Viola Shepard & Hannah Shepard (faint background Shakarian) Genre: Family/General Word Count: 1160

“Commander,” the young MP on guard duty greeted when she opened the door.

They weren’t supposed to call her that, but none of them could seem to figure out what to call her instead. Another had tried “Ms. Shepard” once - he’d immediately grimaced like he had food poisoning and never said it again. She told them just Shepard was fine, but, no matter what the brass said, they saw her a certain way. She let it go - at least this one wasn’t saluting her. “Yes, Lance Corporal Kabinoff?” she asked. And if she sounded a little annoyed, well, it was getting late and Shepard was just sinking into her book - god, this whole house arrest thing was turning her into an old lady.

“You have a visitor, ma’am,” Kabinoff replied before stepping off to the side, and Shepard got a glimpse about 15 years into her future.

She’d always vehemently denied that there was any resemblance between her and her mother, but something - distance, death, whatever - had changed that. She definitely saw it now, and it gave her a pang of familial fondness she was unaccustomed to. “Mom,” she said quietly.

Hannah smiled, her eyes wet. “Hey, Vi. Got time to catch up?”

Shepard blinked a few times, thrown off balance by the old nickname. Only one person had called her that in the last few years, and she was trying very hard to keep her mind off of him. She swallowed and set her jaw, moving to let her mother inside and closing the door.

Viola took a deep breath and turned to face Hannah. She had to look down at her - she had been the taller one since the first time they’d reunited 17 years ago. “I didn’t think they’d let you visit,” she said. She folded her arms across her chest, a silent signal that she wasn’t ready to be touched. Her mom was demonstrative in her affection, but it was only ever on Viola’s terms.

Hannah gave her space, moving to look out the window. “I had to ask a few times. Luckily, Admiral Anderson has a soft spot for you and me, so he cleared the way.” She smiled softly at the Vancouver skyline.

Viola huffed a laugh. “What are you gonna do if he ever cashes in on all the favors you owe him?”

Hannah turned and caught her eye for a moment. “I think you knocked out a few of them taking out Sovereign and making him Councillor,” she quipped.

“Are you kidding? I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for making him play politics.”

“Hmm,” Hannah hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe if you beat the Reapers he’ll call it even.”

Viola’s posture relaxed a bit, and she stepped up next to her mother, joining her in staring out the window. “So… you believe me?”

Hannah’s head whipped around to face her. “What?! Vi, of course I believe you. I was at the Citadel - I saw that thing!”

Viola shrugged. “So did the Council. So did millions of other people. Still feels like the only people who believe the Reapers are real are the ones who were on my crew. And… fucking Cerberus, I guess.”

Hannah scoffed. “‘Geth ship’ my squishy human ass,” she muttered. “That was the joke of the century, and trust me, I’m not the only one who thinks so. You’ve got more friends than you think in the Alliance, even if the higher ups won’t admit it.”

“Friends will help,” Viola said with a sigh, “but we won’t get very far without actual preparation. And I can’t do shit locked up in here.”

There wasn’t much Hannah could say to that - she was right, and they were both powerless to do anything about it. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, watching a shuttle take off from the spaceport a few kilometers from the base and basking in each other’s presence in their own way. Eventually, Viola’s arms loosened and fell to her sides, and her gaze dropped to the floor. “Mom…” she whispered. “I’m afraid I fucked up.”

“Oh, Vi,” Hannah soothed. She wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through, and apparently the details are classified. But I know you’ve never taken death lightly. I know that whatever the hell happened in that system, you made the call you had to make. If you had fucked up, you would admit it. You wouldn’t be saying you were afraid - you would be sure of it, and you would own up to it, because that’s the kind of person you’ve always been.”

Viola shook her head. “Heh. You sound like…” She trailed off, pinching the bridge of her nose - she was not going to cry about this again.

Hannah rubbed Viola’s shoulder. “Whoever I sound like must be pretty smart.”

Viola took a deep breath to gather herself. “Smarter than he thinks he is, to be honest. At least about this kind of stuff. Arrogant as hell about other things.” Fuck. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him, and she definitely wasn’t supposed to be talking about him.

“Should I ask?” Hannah was trying not to smile.

“No.”

“Point taken. But, listen.” She stepped around in front of Viola, encouraging her to meet her eyes. She did, after a moment. “Whatever hell rains down on us, I have your back. I’ll always have your back. So will Anderson. So will your crew, I’m sure. I know you’re going to give this fight everything you can, but you need to remember you aren’t in it alone. Let some of your people help carry the burden, or there won’t be any of you left.”

Viola turned away - she felt her walls instinctively going up, though she tried to fight it. She was no good at this sort of thing.

Hannah sighed. “I’m sorry, Vi. I know. And you know how much I wish things had been different. But that’s not your life anymore. You have people.”

After a few tense seconds, Viola nodded a couple of times, her posture still rigid. “Yeah. Yeah.”

Hannah stepped back, letting her breathe. “I have to ship back out in the morning. I can head to the barracks if you want - no hard feelings.”

Viola finally looked at her again. “Are you even allowed to stay?”

Her mother shrugged with a light smirk. “They didn’t tell me I wasn’t.”

“Well,” Viola said, trying to smile a little in return. “House arrest is pretty fucking lonely. A little company might not kill me.”

“Ha!” Hannah barked. “‘Might not kill you’? Is that a bit of a joke I hear?”

“Mm. Trying to lighten up a little. But I do want you to stay. I…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but Hannah knew what she was leaving unsaid. She tucked a lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “Yeah. Me too, kid.”

#merweek2021 #mass effect #viola shepard #hannah shepard #my work #fanfic #so much talking #hope someone enjoys it anyway :)

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cotccotc · 3 years

Text

♡ 4:25 pm ; feel better

set in the domus amoris universe !

genre/s: fluff, comfort, suggestive (heH), established relationship/domestic au, hyunjin x gn reader

wc: ~2k MWAHAHAHAHA

warnings: descriptions of pain i guess? kinda? lol

a/n: i’m super excited to see what y’all think of this one! it’s based on a suggestion from @chogiwow hehe thank u ivy ♡♡ if you ever have a suggestion for the series feel free to check out the suggestion box !!

hyunjin always hates bothering you with trivial things. or at least things he would deem so. he knows you’d go to the ends of the earth to support him and provide aid for whatever might be troubling him - and he for you. you share the same home, the same heart, and the same devotion to each other. what’s yours is his, and vice versa. yet, even on a day like today, he feels it unnecessary to burden you with his troubles. he doesn’t want them to become yours.

and yet, he underestimates the bond you share. he should know by now that no matter what, there’s no way to hide from you. whenever you’re upset, troubled, in pain, or in conflict, verbal confirmation isn’t necessary. he just knows. it’ll be the way you breathe; sighing with every exhale, furrowing your brow as you breath in. or the way you look at him; your soft smile laced with a twinge of pitiable sorrow, eyes drinking in his features as a means of momentary distraction before you avert them somewhere else. or even the way you touch him; slower, fluidly, with a soft sense of urgency that you might not even realize.

but that’s exactly how you can tell there’s something wrong today. he’s been quiet with his voice but his actions speak volumes. you sit next to him on the couch, offering him his cup of tea. he holds the cup in both of his hands for a bit, one through the handle and one on the outside. he neglects to thank you in favor of letting out a deep, sighing breath. you glance at him with concern, taking a sip from your own drink. the hot liquid, dulled only slightly by smooth creaminess, creates a great deal of warmth inside you despite the subtle chill in the room. it’s chamomile, just as he likes it.

“you okay?” you ask, setting your cup down onto a coaster on the table. he nods to you, a passive smile spread across his face. he looks at you with a palpable longing in his eyes; one he can’t control even if he tried. “are you sure?” you shift closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh, right above the knee. you rub back and forth with your thumb, a gesture you know he’s always found both endearing and soothing. maybe he’s cold, you think. it could explain his tight grip on the warm cup. “i can grab a blanket if you need-”

“no. it’s-” he starts. however, he hesitates. he stops. barely opening his mouth, he lets out an “i’m… fine.”

you know he’s lying. not out of spite or with malicious intent, but because he feels the same way you do whenever something’s wrong. one would think that after all this time, it’d be easier to confide in each other about superficial things without having to worry. but it’s not in either of your nature. “really?” you question, lifting your legs onto the sofa. you cross them, turning to fully face the boy you love; the boy you want to protect and provide for at all costs.

he nods again with a long, hard blink. he looks pained. it makes your heart twitch a little.

he leans over to set his teacup down onto the table before placing a hand on your waist. “c’mere,” he breathes out, once again opening his mouth only as far as he must to get a word in. you oblige, letting his hands guide your hips until you’re straddling his. he then wraps his arms around your center, looking up at you affectionately. for a brief moment, you forget your partnerly duties as you self-indulgently survey the shimmering vastness contained within his eyes. your focus lies within the chocolatey depths of his irises; cavernous pupils lit by the streaming sunlight from the living room window… what’s more, his widened, yearning eyes are further proof that he needs you right now, for reasons he’s somehow unable to tell you.

“what’s wrong, baby?” you ask, the softness of your tone fluttering across his heart like a feather on the skin; gentle, fleeting, and goosebump-inducing. he wants to tell you. you lull him further into relaxation, however, with your fingers combing themselves through his ebony locks and massaging his head in the tenderest fashion you can muster. you know how much he enjoys it. you can see it in his face when he lets his eyes close and head fall back onto the top of the sofa. and you can hear it in the way he hums in response. temporary relief. but you know you could be doing more. you glance down at his strawberry pink lips, slightly chapped from lack of use. you lean in, cupping his face with your hands and pulling your faces closer. but then, he lets out a small gasp.

his eyes shoot open, making immediate and urgent contact with yours. he’s in pain.

“i’m so sorry,” you say, taking your hands off his face.

“no! no…” he mutters. his hands travel to your sides, giving your hips a gentle squeeze.

“where does it hurt?”

he lifts a hand to the left side of his jaw, lightly rubbing back and forth. “tooth,” he says, simply.

you let out an “aw, baby,” under your breath, looking at him with concern. you hate it when he’s hurting. he hates it when you feel guilty.

“i’m okay,” he mumbles, mouth still partially closed. “i promise.”

“i know that’s not true. don’t lie.” you lift yourself off of his lap, receiving a bit of protest from your lover-made-patient.

“don’t go,” he whimpers through gritted teeth. this is just as he’d dreaded; you’re going to do everything you can to help him. and while he appreciates it, he doesn’t want you to worry. he never wants you to worry.

but you don’t want him to be feeling as bad as he does. as much as you’d love to stay here in his loving embrace, tending to him by simply being near to him, you know he’ll remain in pain. and you can’t let that go.

“i’ll only be a minute. i’m going to get you something cold to hold on it and an aspirin to take, okay?” your hands lay flat against his shoulders as you gently push yourself off the couch and onto your feet. he takes a hold of one of your hands, bringing it to his lips to place a faint kiss on the back of it.

“thank you,” he adds with a half-smile. you rub his hand with your thumb before making haste into the bathroom to grab a washcloth. you soak it in cold water, then quickly ring it out and walk back into the living room to see hyunjin in the same state you left him. however, when you enter, the brightness returns to his face. you hand him the cloth, guiding his hand up to his jaw to lightly press the coldness against the affected area. his glassy eyes never leave yours. he lets out a slight hiss at the temperature of the cloth, but quickly adjusts. you smile down upon him, a loving hand placed against his other cheek, thumb stroking back and forth against it. he smiles back at you; at least, he tries.

then, you make your way to the kitchen cabinet where all the medicine is stored. you haven’t much room to keep them in the bathroom, but you made do with what you had when you bought the apartment. besides, it’s right near the faucet, which comes in handy in instances such as these. you grab an aspirin and fill up a glass of lukewarm water. however, just as you shut off the faucet, you hear him calling.

“baby!” he whines, loud enough to be heard from the other room despite his impaired oral function. you rush back to him, medication in tow, worried for what may have happened to him while you were away. though, you were only away for a few moments. after you arrive, his expression quickly transforms from agony to relief. the cold compress is squished against his cheek. he’s adorable.

“i’m cold without you,” he murmurs with a cheeky pout.

you chuckle, letting out the breath you didn’t even realize you’d held when you heard him and came running. “do you need the blanket?”

“no,” he replies. “just need you.” squinting, he adjusts the washcloth. you really do hate seeing him like this, no matter cute he can never cease to be. so, of course, you comply.

as you approach him, he sits up, eager to be close once again. “here,” you say, handing him the cup and pill. you then settle back upon his lap, rubbing his stomach and gently holding the washcloth in place as he swallows. he hands back the empty glass, which you place on the floor beside the sofa. “good.”

he takes a deep breath while slowly snaking his hands up the back of your hoodie, pulling you closer to him. the contact between his cold fingertips and your back sends a shiver through you. “kiss?” he asks. every word that escapes his aching mouth is as light as a feather. you take a moment for this image of his face to seep into your unconscious. you’ll keep it there in case he’s ever far from you. it’s funny how memory works. some things will take temporary leave of the mind at a moment’s notice, but pictures such as this will linger for a long while.

“are you sure? i don’t want to hurt you,” you reply. you dab his jaw with the washcloth, trying to find the coldest spot to use. looking up at you with umber earnestness, he nods. you glance at his lips as they part, exposing his front teeth. they’re still clamped shut. you lay a singular, hushed peck upon his lips, still holding the compress against his cheek. you press a second kiss on the corner of his mouth, then his opposite cheek. you gaze at him once again, threading your fingers through his hair as he relaxes against the sofa for a second time.

he wraps himself further around you underneath the fabric of your sweatshirt, kneading the skin on your waist. as his eyes open, lashes fluttering and brows relaxing, he whispers, “more.”

you giggle. “is this just an excuse for kisses?” you ask, pecking his nose and cheek.

“no~,” he drawls. he leans toward you, fingers grazing over your skin and leaving your back in favor of gripping onto your hips. he swiftly latches his lips onto yours, drawing you in to deepen the kiss, as he’s unable to. and so, you do. he exhales into it, audibly relieved by the feeling. it’s almost as if the mellow, chamomile-infused sweetness of your lips provides a temporary numbness for the pain with which he’s been afflicted.

“is it feeling any better?” you ask. he looks up at you, nods, and smiles - as much as he’s able to - while his hands roam around your hips and thighs.

“thank you, baby,” he whispers. “you didn’t have to…” he trails off, squinting again. you take the washcloth off his jaw, noticing the rosy tint his skin has taken on due to the chill. gently, you drag the tip of your finger against his jawline. you then place a tender peck against it, trailing down to his neck as well.

“does this hurt?” you ask against his neck, your lips moseying back up to the point of affliction.

he lets out a deep sigh. “not at all…”

later, you’ll ask him what might have caused his pain. later, you’ll clean up the cups and drink the tea you would have otherwise forgotten about. later, in fact, you’ll keep tending to hyunjin’s toothache, ensuring that he gets some form of nourishment and some rest. but for now, you’ll stay seated on the lap of your lover; peppering kisses over his face, letting his hands roam around your form… whatever’s going to make him feel better, right?

tags: @magglesx, @crscendoforsung, @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @pixielix, @skzctnightnight, @serenityswords-main, @childofthecosmos, @changbinniee, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @ncityluvvs (send a 🍓 in my ask box to be added for skz !)

#districtninewriters #inkidz #skzwritersclub #straykidsland #kloveletternet #*fics #*domus amoris #skz #stray kids #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff

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parvuls · 3 years

Text

fic: kintsugi

summary: The day after brunch at Jerry's, Jack and Shitty have a raw, much-needed conversation over the phone. Some issues need to be addressed before they can head down the road to patching things up.

word count: 6k

tags: year 3, post-comic 3.12, phone calls, friendship, canon compliant, apologies, introspection

notes: based on the prompt ‘providence + family’ by @atlasthemayor.

read on ao3

Jack’s stomach churns strangely when he sees Shitty’s name flash on his caller ID.

It’s a disconcerting feeling, a slight jolt and twinge in his gut, both reminiscent of when anxiety coils low inside him and distinctive in some way. It makes Jack frown and set his heated dinner aside on the coffee table with the hand not holding the buzzing phone. He’s not sure he ever had this foreign reaction to Shitty calling him before, so after a brief moment of puzzlement he decides to write it off as a side effect of the exhaustion weighing him down.

The phone vibrates once more in his palm before Jack slides his thumb across the screen to accept the call. “Hey, man,” he greets, balancing the phone between his cheek and shoulder so he can pick his food up again. Shitty won’t mind the sound of his chewing, probably. “Staying up late to study?”

It’s coming up to half past eleven on Saturday night. Jack dragged himself through the front door and into the dark apartment at around ten forty-five, his muscles sore and his body beat from over twenty minutes of ice time. He dumped his gear bag in the entryway next to his shoes and headed straight into the kitchen without flicking any of the lights on, shoved one of his frozen meal plan boxes of grilled chicken and brown rice into the microwave without pausing.

The yellow glow of the microwave was the sole source of light in the room as Jack strapped an ice pack to his shoulder, still aching from Ericsson’s high-stick, stuck Bitty’s handwritten PB&J note on the fridge, and waited. The only thing he really wanted to do was fall face-first into his bed, text Bitty that he was home, maybe break down the game over the phone if Bitty wasn’t too busy -- but his regimen had taken precedence. He knew he needed to put in some calories and take care of his pain if he wanted to get up for his six a.m. run. By the time his phone started ringing, Jack was mechanically chewing on his food in the living room. His couch was more comfortable than a dining chair, plush upholstery engulfing his tired limbs, and it only distantly occurred to him that there was something sad about eating dinner alone in the dark.

Shitty’s call, when it came, was unexpected.

“Hate to tell you this, but eleven thirty is not late," Shitty replies, the familiar timbre of his voice tinny due to cell reception. It's an effect Jack is closely acquainted with after months of daily phone calls with Bitty, so he knows that's not all there is to it when he notices something else amiss about Shitty’s voice; like the rhythm of his speech is slightly off. He registers it as abnormal, but before he can figure out if he wants to ask about it Shitty carries on talking. “How’s everything going for ya?”

“Okay,” Jack answers plainly, piling rice onto his fork. He doesn't have the energy to think of anything more gripping than the truth. “Eating post-game dinner.”

Shitty pauses on the other side of the line, makes the creases in Jack’s forehead deepen. Something feels weird, but Jack doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it if nothing is really wrong. Sometimes people act in ways that confuse him for any number of reasons, and he’s not always good at telling them apart.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” Shitty says, clearing his throat quietly. “The Red Wings. Great game, brah. Your shoulder doin’ okay?”

Jack’s mouth slows down his chewing on instinct, and he swallows the rice with difficulty. Shitty never just tells Jack great game. Shitty talks about hockey like he’s the narrator in a porn film, with an enthusiasm unmatched by anyone Jack has ever met. Shitty once sang Jack’s praises for half an hour after a game against UND in which Samwell lost 2-0. That, combined with his tone -- something isn’t quite right, Jack thinks. He's more confident in that observation now, but his brain feels slower than usual and he’s too tired to connect any dots.

“Euh, yeah. I’ll be alright. Really have to shake it off and make sure I’m all there on Monday night, eh? We’ve had a good streak, but it’s always about how we play the next game. We’re getting better as a group.”

Jack’s tongue slips into hockey speak naturally before he can do anything to stop it, but instead of chirp him, Shitty makes a vague, throaty noise and doesn’t comment. “Yeah, I get what you mean. You and Mashkov really seem to hit it off out there, heh. Uh, listen -- I know you had to drive back for your practice, but. We didn’t really get the chance to talk much yesterday, and I guess…” Shitty pauses again, and Jack lowers the box to rest against his knee, apprehensive. “Well. D’ya have a moment? Because I’d really fuckin’ like to apologize for some shit.”

Jack’s hand clenches convulsively around his fork, a piece of chicken breast sliding off the tines and falling back into the box with a dull noise.

The early morning and then noon hours of Friday were an emotional blur. From the anxiety spike when Jack stepped off the plane to the car ride on the flooded highway; from the sleep-deprived, tearful conversation in Bitty's narrow bed to the cathartic brunch at Jerry’s with their friends. Jack drove straight home after his nap and stepped out of the car back in Providence to find his phone overflowing with chirping text messages. The chirps haven’t really died down over the weekend, but Jack doesn’t mind them, and he doesn’t think Bitty does either; it feels good to have a subject that’s been burdening them both treated lightheartedly. Trusting their friends with this secret isn't as heavy on Jack's shoulder as he feared it might be.

Shitty is the only one who hasn’t written much in the group chat. He and Jack talked briefly on the lawn outside the Haus after the six of them had returned from brunch, and then they resorted to roughhousing when the mood got too somber. Jack hoped that it’d be enough to put everything behind them, but if he pushes himself to think it through, a part of him has known that this conversation was coming. It wasn’t like Shitty to let things go so easily.

Jack's glad that Shitty can't see his face right now, because he can feel himself grimacing. He hopes his brief silence hasn’t been too revealing. “Shits -- it’s cool, yeah? We’re cool.”

“I don’t think we are, actually,” Shitty argues. His voice is growing strained. “You don’t have to talk, even --”

“C’mon, man, there’s really not much to say. Everything is good now --”

“Jack,” Shitty cuts him off, and the tone of his voice shuts Jack right up. Shitty can get wrapped up in things, can lose himself in long tirades about rights and wrongs and justice, but this tone sounds different than it has through the hundreds of rants Jack has been witness to. Shitty sounds dead serious. Jack blinks, and realizes: this isn’t Shitty being his normal self. He’s genuinely torn up about this. “Just -- will ya let me…? Please.”

“I…” Jack starts, but he doesn’t really know what he wants to say. He’s never been skilled at these kinds of conversations, and the odd feeling he got when he saw Shitty’s name on his screen squeezes even tighter than before, making him feel slightly nauseated.

“It’s -- I --. Jack, what I said in front of everyone during the home opening kegster… and all the other times I... That was some fucked up shit. I fucked up real bad, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jack tries again, but this time the words feel so wrong in his mouth that he has difficulty shaping his tongue around them. It tastes like an outright lie, although he wasn’t aware he was even lying at all.

Jack hadn’t recognized the churning in his gut until now, but Shitty’s steadfast apology intensifies the feeling and dredges up what Jack has clearly failed to notice. He wants to tell Shitty that there’s no need to apologize, but apparently that’s just not true; it’s only now that he realizes the sharp response he had to Shitty’s call is bitterness. Jack’s feelings actually were hurt by Shitty. Maybe he should be startled by discovering wounded feelings he wasn’t cognizant of for over a month, but if this past summer has taught Jack anything, it’s that sometimes he manages to overlook the most substantial of things.

“-- and it’s not enough to be chill about it now,” Jack blinks out of his thoughts and tunes back into Shitty’s distressed train of words, coming chopped and fast through the ear speaker. “I should’ve -- before, too, I should’ve created a safe enough fuckin’ environment --”

“You were always talking to us about creating safe environments, Shitty,” Jack interrupts him. His voice sounds hollow to his own ears, and he puts his fork in the box and the box back on the coffee table to free his hands. He’s still making sense of his own mental state, and he knows that whatever is going to come stumbling out of his mouth will be barely coherent at best. “It’s not -- it was just that -- you’re always saying it’s important, and then, câlice… It was hard enough, hiding, and then with you as well --.”

Everyone was allowed to be queer, for Shitty. Jack remembers how in sophomore year Shitty marched into the Haus, ecstatic about the five different people who had come out to him that same week, babbling about how great it was and how different Samwell was to Andover. He mentioned sexuality labels Jack had never even heard of, had accepted so effortlessly those borderline strangers who had trusted him with their identities. Shitty has always been the most open-minded person Jack knows, the one to talk endlessly about the inherent toxicity of heteronormativity and to lecture the team about never labeling others without their consent.

Jack’s not always good at pinpointing the root of his own feelings, but the moment he thinks of that thrilled look on Shitty’s face almost three years before, he knows, like a lightbulb going off, why he was hurt. Because it seemed like everyone was allowed to be queer, for Shitty -- except Jack. Like Jack wasn’t queer enough to warrant the same respectful treatment. Like he wasn’t really allowed to be queer at all. Jack had never felt particularly close to his sexuality, but when even Shitty assumed so assuredly that he couldn’t be anything but straight, it stung. He just hasn’t registered it until now.

There’s a split second of tense silence, and then Shitty says, “I didn’t even know you were having a hard time, brah,” the pace of his speech slowed down.

Jack’s eyebrows draw together. His right hand, absentmindedly, pinches the fabric of his suit pants and rubs the smooth texture between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t -- what does that mean? It’s not like you asked.”

Shitty’s breath comes out in a harsh exhale, crackles in Jack’s ears. Jack can hear springs squeaking and sheets ruffling, the sounds of Shitty dropping heavily onto his bed. “Brah. How was I supposed to ask? You never pick up the damn phone anymore. Shit, man, I know fuck all about your life lately."

The fabric of Jack’s pants stretches in the tight grip of his fingers as he blinks, takes in Shitty’s accusation, and realizes he’s right all in the space of two and a half seconds. He can recall a few missed calls that he never got around to returning, but it didn’t seem so important at the time. He was, and still is, in the midst of his first NHL season, trying so hard not to get so lost in hockey and his own worries that he drowns in it and forgets to be a good boyfriend to Bitty.

It never occurred to him that he was investing so much effort into being a good boyfriend to Bitty that he wound up forgetting to be a good friend to everyone else. He knew Shitty and he weren’t talking as often, that things between them haven’t been great lately, but the truth is he had so many other things to worry about that he let it drift to the margins of his mind.

Jack lets go of his pants, rubs his palm down his thigh to smooth the creases away. His momentary bout of anger deserts him with the release of a slow, purposeful exhale. "You’re right. I’m sorry."

"No, no, shit,” Shitty says immediately, switching back from resigned to guilt-ridden in the matter of nanoseconds. “Don’t -- damn it, don’t apologize, oh shit, I’m victim blaming aren’t I, I totally didn’t mean to put this on you --"

"Shitty --"

There’s the sound of bed springs creaking again and then loud footsteps hitting a floor, which Jack assumes are the background sounds of Shitty rushing up from his bed to pace the length of his room. He’s seen Shitty do it across his small room in the Haus countless times, and it feels strange now, having it happen forty miles away. "It’s just, you know, I tried and you didn’t pick up and I get it, fuck do I get it, remember how in freshman year you forgot to talk to anyone for like a week during the preseason stress?"

Jack cracks a tiny, shaky smile that he knows won’t make it into his voice. His first few months at Samwell were a horrible time, fraught with loneliness and frequent panic attacks, too absorbed in thoughts of the path he was supposed to take to function in the path he ended up taking. His therapist helped with that, later, but before that there was Shitty. Determined to be Jack’s friend for no good reason at all. "Yeah. And you broke into my dorm room to make sure I wasn’t dead."

"So it wasn’t like I was offended you didn’t pick up or some bull,” Shitty hurries to finish, “I know you, I get it --"

But that’s wrong, Jack thinks, frowning deeply. Surely, Shitty must know that. "Shitty."

"What? No, seriously. It’s not the first time it happened, and with the pressure of playing in the league and all, I totally get it -- it’s just --"

"You’re allowed to be offended, Shits." Jack says quietly. His hand reaches up to curl around the phone and tug it away from the crook of his shoulder, but his muscles remain tense even when his shoulder drops down. His other hand is still fisted on top of his thigh and the purple shadows cast by the faint stars outside the windows heighten the grooves of his veins. "I know I -- I know it can get difficult -- with me --"

"No," Shitty interrupts, sounding even more emotional than before, a penitent snowball that keeps on rolling down the hill. Shitty’s capable of rolling on forever, if he thinks something is truly wrong. "No no no, Jack, I didn’t mean --"

"Shut up, Shitty." Jack says firmly. He preserves, reminding himself forcefully that the sentiment he wants to establish is too important to be derailed by Shitty’s atonement. His hands have begun to shake slightly, but he needs to get it out. "I know I’m worthy of love and friendship and all the crap you were about to say. I’m just saying --. You’re allowed to be hurt even if it isn’t new behavior. Just because I -- my anxiety -- y’know. If it hurts you, you’re allowed to be hurt."

The other side of the line goes quiet for a long moment, not even the sound of breathing coming through. Jack closes his eyes, counts to ten, tells himself that it’s Shitty and that the two of them are going to figure it out. Fighting with Shitty has always been mentally hard on Jack, has always felt like shaking the only foundation Jack had to stand on. It didn’t happen often, but Jack tries to remind himself that whenever it did they always came out intact on the other side. Arguing was a healthy way to understand your needs and the needs of the other person, his therapist told him.

When Shitty speaks, he sounds awed. "Christ on a cracker, man. That was fuckin’ wise. That Bits’ influence on you?"

Jack pauses to consider it seriously, taking time to recompose his brain. Being with Bitty -- it has taught him so much, about his own feelings and others' and how to put them into words, the importance of open communication. He told Shitty that the previous day after Jerry's -- feelings could easily not occur to him, even if he felt them very strongly. He coexisted with them without acknowledging their existence a lot of the time, and this phone call is only one example of it. Being with Bitty, having to be aware and give name and give value to his own feelings to make things work between them, has changed the way he interacted with his emotions. Made him understand himself better. He’s not at all sure he would’ve been capable of articulating himself in a conversation like this if not for the progress Bitty and he have made together.

But being aware of his worth as a person, and learning that his disorder didn’t define him but shouldn’t be brushed aside either, that wasn’t Bitty. “No, Shits. That’s your influence on me.”

This silence is even longer than the one before it, and then it’s broken by muffled sniffles on the other side. Jack's heart leaps, panic building in his chest -- but then Shitty says, throat choked up, “I thought -- fuck, Jack, this is gonna sound so motherfucking stupid. But I thought you didn’t, y’know. Need me anymore. I know this is on me too, I’m barely keeping my head above water here and the whole -- fuckin’ Harvard situation, it’s not… but each day we didn't talk and I saw your game scores, or I would see those Falcs vids… it looks like you have this spankin’ fuckin’ brand new life that I know shit about. And you’ve got Mashkov, and St. Martin, and…”

Jack can’t find adequate words for a long moment, and once he opens his mouth he’s surprised to hear his voice is thick, surprised to feel hot tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “Shitty. Tater is great. And Marty is great, and -- Thirdy, and all of them. But.”

None of them are you, he wants to say, but that sounds too dumb to utter out loud. That’s not how Shitty and he talk to each other, or at least, it’s not how Jack talks to Shitty. Shitty is good at phrasing his feelings in ways Jack can handle, but Jack can’t ever make the right words come out of his mouth.

There’s another pause, his mind blanking, and then he says, “Tater didn’t make me sign a friendship contract.”

Shitty snorts, but it isn’t a happy sound. “Jacko --”

“No. Shits --. Tater didn’t make the effort to be my friend even when I was doing everything I could to push him away. He didn’t drag my ass to the Haus my freshman year after I hadn't talked to anyone but faculty in two weeks. He didn’t argue with Bergey until we were banked together on every roadie and was heartbroken when no one spread rumors about us hooking up.”

That shot goes wide. “Oh fuckity fuck, Jack, I’m a fucking dickhead --”

“Bordel de merde, Shitty, will you fucking listen?” Jack rubs his fingers over the bridge of his nose, feels his skin crease between his brows. “Tater didn’t make me go to Gender in Warfare in Early 20th Century America because he knew it’d end up one of my favorite classes, or learnt my story about the fire extinguisher and the football team by heart, or -- or have been defending me behind my back since the first week he knew me. Tater’s great. I’m -- you know, uh, thankful, for having people on the Falcs. I didn’t think it could be -- after the guys at Samwell, no team would ever be the same.”

“Yeah,” Shitty says, sadly, in the tone of someone who knows exactly what Jack means.

Jack’s throat bobs when he swallows, chest aching. “And they’re great. But Tater -- or Marty, or any of them -- they’re not...”

None of them are you, Jack wants Shitty to hear, gripping his pants in his hand again to balance himself. He doesn’t know how to say it in a way that would make Shitty hear him. None of them could ever be you.

There’s once again silence between them, only interrupted by Shitty’s quiet sniffles and the erratic beating of Jack’s heart. His phone is too warm on his ear, clammy from sweat smearing over the screen, but he can’t bring himself to put Shitty on speaker. It feels like they’re too far apart to have this conversation already, like Shitty should be sitting here on the couch next to Jack in flimsy underwear like he was every time they needed to talk like this over the past four years.

After a long moment, Shitty makes an ambiguous rasping noise and admits, “I was jealous.”

Jack winces. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Yeah, I mean, apology accepted, whatever, just. I was jealous they got to be there for you every day, really be there in the moments I used to live through with you that I now know zilch about. I was used to that being me.” He then adds, much more grimly, “Except apparently I sucked ass at being there for you at all when it counted.”

Jack sighs. They veered off topic to talk about something Jack considers more important, but now they were back to that and he knows in the pit of his stomach that they, both of them, won’t be able to move on until they talk this through. This is a conversation they need to have, even if it would be easier for Jack to not have it at all. “Shitty. I need to tell you something.”

The thing about Shitty is that he has faults like the rest of them, but Jack has always known that he’d drop anything if Jack needed him. He knows because it goes unconditionally both ways. Shitty’s voice goes immediately even and he wastes no time before saying, “I'm listening.”

Jack swallows. It feels -- heavy, on his breastbones. It didn’t before, it didn’t at Jerry's. He doesn’t remember this weight from years ago, when he first talked about it with his parents, and then -- later, too much later -- with his therapist. His chest was so laden with other concerns then that there was no room for anything more, and this burden was only ever an afterthought. At Jerry's he was thinking of Bitty, of Bitty’s happiness and Jack's own happiness with him, and the necessity of the action for their joint happiness. It didn’t leave any space for this weight.

Now he can feel the weight. It’s stupid. Shitty already knows, and besides, it’s Shitty. Jack knows Shitty so well that he can practically predict the exact words he will use, and even if he couldn’t, he knows Shitty would never turn him away. Yet his chest feels tight, like he’s holding in all of his air, and his fingers are again shaking against his thigh. “Shitty, I'm dating Bittle.”

Shitty makes a baffled sound, clearly not expecting this choice of confession. “I -- yeah, dude, I know.”

“I’m dating Bittle,” Jack reiterates determinedly, eager to get it over with. “He’s a guy.”

Shitty goes quiet for a moment, and then he says, voice low, “Okay.”

Jack wasn’t sure he was going to say it, but now that they’re here, this is something he wants Shitty to know. “He’s not the first guy I’ve been with.”

Shitty’s sharp intake of breath at this is audible even over the phone, but other than that he doesn’t react outwardly. Jack's shaking hand lifts up to rub over his chest while he waits for Shitty to say something, and Shitty doesn’t keep him waiting long. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

That’s almost exactly the reaction Jack expected to hear, but for some reason he doesn’t feel settled. “It never came up before.”

“That’s okay, buddy,” Shitty reassures him. Jack’s not sure what Shitty is thinking, if he’s thinking anything at all. This probably isn’t as big a deal to him as it feels like to Jack.

Jack frowns down at the shadows of his socked feet in the dark, thinks it over, and then corrects, “No, actually -- no. It never came up with anyone else. But I did think of telling you. More than once. You were the only one… but I had reasons not to. Or, I thought I did.”

“That’s still cool, brah,” Shitty hurries to interrupt. “You don’t have to --”

“No, because,” Jack sighs, trails off midsentence. He doesn’t want Shitty to make this easy for him, to allow Jack to take the exit he’s being offered. He knows they could stop the discussion right there and Shitty would never say a thing, but he doesn’t want this to hang over their friendship for the rest of time, and he knows that it could if he doesn’t force himself to dig deeper. “Because when you assumed that if I had someone it must’ve been a girlfriend, it hurt. I didn’t realize before -- I thought I was upset because Bitty was hurt, and I hurt him even more with my reaction, and it mattered more at the time. But it hurt. And that’s not entirely fair to you, because you had no reason to think otherwise. Because I didn’t tell you.”

There’s more rustling in the background, and Shitty talks over him before the last word is out of his mouth. “Jack, no, you’re under no obligation to disclose your identity to anyone and it doesn’t give them any right to assume -- I assumed and it was so fucking wrong --”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees, because it was. He’s not trying to argue that it wasn’t. Shitty was wrong, but that’s not the point Jack is trying to make.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Shitty sounds contrite, and Jack can almost imagine the look on his face now. The small wrinkle in his forehead, the downward slope of his mustache, the sharp angle of his jaw. Shitty always looks older when he feels guilty about something. “So fuckin’ sorry.”

“That’s okay, man. Eh. Well, it's not, but it's forgiven.” And it is, Jack knows. He’s already forgiven Shitty, would have to try so hard not to forgive Shitty. They’ve hurt each other in the past and they’ll most likely hurt each other again in the future, but it’s never done intentionally. Shitty’s friendship is worth all of this crap and always has.

“I guess I just... “ Shitty lowers his voice, and Jack has to press the phone harder into his ear to hear him. “Fuck, I don’t want to excuse my actions, this does not in any way justify the shit I said. But I guess, in my mind, even though I know you should never assume about anyone, I did think that because it’s you… that you’d tell me. If there was ever anything to tell.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack says this time. He’s not sure Shitty knows this, but this is what he was trying to get to before. What Shitty is saying is reasonable even if it isn’t ideal.

“Fuck no. What the fucking fuck are you apologizing for, you idiot --”

“I’m not apologizing for not telling you, Shits,” Jack stops him before it becomes another rant. He’s growing tired of using so many words at once, feeling the toll of the unexpected emotional turmoil he’s dragging his overworked body through. “I know what you said was wrong, and I know I didn’t have to tell you. I’m saying I’m sorry if you were hurt by it. And I'm apologizing if it made you feel like I didn't trust you, or. Or some shit.”

Another pause follows Jack’s words, and he has to stifle the urge to collapse sideways into the couch and shove his face into a cushion until everything goes away. This conversation, as necessary as it is, doesn’t come naturally to either of them. They’ve been talking about their feelings for too long now and it’s starting to get awkward and overwhelming.

“I’m not saying I wasn’t super touched by your previous comment,” Shitty says, suddenly. “Because stereotypical masculinity is complete bullshit and I’m not ashamed to admit I teared the fuck up. But Jack -- Bitty has done some serious work on you. Or, like, you know, healthy relationships and all, you two worked on yourselves with each other to be better and all that, but. Man, I don’t think that’s a distinction you would’ve made six months ago.”

Jack considers it. The idea of someone’s hurt being valid even if the reason for it didn’t make sense probably isn’t a concept he would’ve been able to grasp, or at least would not have paid much thought to. Looking back, he was probably hurt dozens of times by little comments in the Haus, or things he heard around campus, or moments of feeling left out by his team; but when the reason for his hurt wasn’t completely logical it was harder for him to allow himself that pain. He would usually distract himself from it, instead. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“But can I just say again -- I'm so fucking sorry for being a heteronormative jackass. I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for hurting Bits, I’m sorry for --”

Esti de câlice de tabarnak. Jack drops his face into his palm and sighs over the string of Shitty’s rapidly escalating apologies. Jack is fully aware that Shitty is just going to apologize until they’re both old and gray if Jack doesn’t stop him. “Shitty, can you knock it?”

Shitty hesitates, but the flood of his words stops. “I miss you,” is what he says eventually.

Jack drops his hand down, leans his weight on his elbows and blinks at the dark room. Shitty used to tell him that all of the time. When they were apart on school breaks; when they were separated on roadies; when Jack had two lectures and a senior workshop on Wednesday nights and Shitty wouldn’t see him for several consecutive hours. Shitty’s affection was always abundant and inescapable, and Jack didn't know it was something he was lacking until he finally hears it. “I miss you, too, man.”

Shitty lets the gravity of it, the seriousness in Jack's voice settle between them, the earnestness he wouldn’t usually hand over easily when they were back at school. And then he says, “It’s hard as fuck, man. It’s hard to admit that it’s hard, too. It’s hard to see Lards’ pics from kegsters I can’t attend anymore, and it’s hard to find friends in this pretentious shithole full of pretensions dicks, and -- Harvard is fucking hard, Jack. And I hate being away from you guys, but I don’t wanna bring you down with my sad. You assholes are my goddamn family, there’s nothing that’s ever gonna replace that. It sucks knowing that I'm stuck here. I miss you so much it drives me fuckin’ insane.”

Jack knows, instantly and wholeheartedly, what Shitty is talking about. He’s living his dream and he loves the Falcs and he’s sincerely grateful for all of it even on his worst days. But sometimes stepping off the ice after a grueling practice and getting pictures of Bitty, laughing with Holster and Ransom on the ice at Faber -- it aches somewhere deep inside him. Sometimes he lies awake in foreign hotel rooms in foreign cities, and while most nights he longs for nothing more than Bitty’s presence, others he closes his eyes and wishes Shitty was there to crawl into his bed again. Sometimes he puts on his jersey before games and imagines the blue and yellow are red and white. His team from Samwell is his family, too, and sometimes missing them feels like missing an amputated limb.

“I wish we got to see each other more,” Jack squeezes out. His windpipe feels strangled, and for a moment he thinks that if he blinks too hard tears might well up again. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s so tired his body is shutting down, or because he’s been holding on to more emotions than he previously thought. “I didn’t know --. I feel the same way, Shitty, but I didn’t know you felt like that. I’m sorry we didn’t really talk much lately.”

It wasn’t something Jack was consciously aware of, but he more or less assumed that if Shitty was ever struggling he would just reach out for help. Shitty was always the better one of the two of them at communicating his feelings, at saying when he needed something or was going through a rough time. It never occurred to Jack to reach out and ask because he always figured that Shitty would come to him first. It's a startling realization. He really isn’t as good a friend as Shitty deserves.

“‘S not your fault,” Shitty objects, even though in some ways it really is. But Shitty means it, Jack knows, despite the lingering hints of anxiety. Shitty wouldn’t say it if he didn’t honestly believe it wasn’t Jack’s fault.

“Maybe, but you should make time for the things that matter to you, right? I’ll try to be better about that. I wanna be there for you, too.”

Shitty sighs, and the tails of it turn into a breathy, weary laugh. “Fuck, Jacko, this is a fuckin’ sobfest. Shit, man. Yeah. I’ll try, too. We could Skype, even. You know I miss that mug of yours.”

Jack finally pulls the phone away from his ear, wipes the sweat tracks away and switches the call to speakerphone. His calendar app is full of cute little reminders Bitty leaves anonymously, like 06:30 work hard and have fun! or 11:11 someone is thinking of you. He’s developed a habit of checking his calendar often these past six months, counting down the days until he gets to see Bitty next. He’s sure it won’t be easy, especially with the progression of the Falconers’ season, but from now on he’ll have to make every effort to fit more people into his schedule. Bitty makes him happy, but he’s not the only one who does.

Jack scrolls through the events logged into his upcoming week. He’s got a game on Monday and one at home on Wednesday, and then Thursday is American Thanksgiving. Bitty is throwing together a whole meal for the Samwell team. He told Jack that he’s under no obligation to come if practice time doesn’t allow it, but... “Are you going to Hausgiving on Thursday?”

Shitty curses loudly. “Fuck, I fuckin’ wish, but I don’t know if that’s smart. I’ve got this fuckin’ test coming up. But I promised Lar-- uh --”

Jack smirks, even if it’s only to himself in an empty apartment. Lardo texted him after Jerry’s to let him know that the two of them will exchange deets privately like civilized bros, but Shitty still seems to be under the illusion that he’s fooling someone. Like his heart-eyes haven’t been obvious from space -- and Jack is painfully aware that if he noticed, that really says something. “Lardo, eh? Not getting out of that one.”

He can almost see Shitty’s answering furious blush from all those miles away. “Fuck you, Zimmermann, don’t make this about me. What I was sayin’ is, I wanna be there super freakin’ bad -- we all know I will gladly sell my right leg for Bitty’s cooking --”

“And for Lardo’s company,” Jack chirps, incredibly satisfied with this turn of conversation.

“I will fuck you right up, don’t you think I won’t!” Shitty threatens emptily, even though Jack takes him down every single time. “Seriously. Your bro becomes a pro athlete and suddenly he thinks he’s a goddamn comedian. Anyway. For Bitty’s cooking, I will make an effort. You got team stuff?”

“No,” Jack says with finality, swiping his calendar closed. He always feels better when things are put into action. “I think I’m going.”

“For Bitty?” Shitty asks, most likely trying to chirp Jack back.

“Well. Yes,” Jack says, perfectly honest. He’s not in any way ashamed of how much he wants to be near Bitty all of the time. He doesn’t think he can remember ever being less ashamed of anything in his life. “But also for you. Think you can meet me there?”

Shitty’s quiet. And then he says, “For my best friend? I’ll meet you halfway across the universe, Jackabelle.”

After the two of them hang up the call, Jack doesn’t move, his eyes fixed blindly in the direction of the windows across the room. His food is growing cold on the coffee table, but Jack thinks that at this point he might genuinely be too tired to eat. Whatever little energy he had left after the game was spent on this conversation with Shitty. He doesn’t regret it; they needed to say all of those things. Jack needed to hear all of those things, both so he could forgive Shitty for something he didn’t know he was holding onto, and so he could work on being a more considerate friend.

The game plan is solid, though, Jack decides. Thanksgiving dinner at the Haus will bring the opportunity to be completely honest with his friends after months of hiding a big aspect of his life from them. And it’d be fun, too. Ransom would put together actual charts for the seating arrangement, and Holster would draw everyone into a betting pool on the football game results, and Bitty would inevitably prepare insane amounts of food using the frogs as his sous chefs. He would probably insist that they’d hold hands around the table and say one thing each of them wants to give thanks for, as well.

Jack doesn’t mind American Thanksgiving, but he’s never really seen the point of that ritual. He’s known for a long time now what he's truly grateful for.

#omgcp #jackshitty #jackshitty fic #omgcheckplease #pavfics #i decided not to wait for friendship day because i'm not sure i'll be around to post then #but i hope you'll enjoy this anyway?#i wanted to write something about their friendship in early y3 in forever

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