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newronantic · 3 years

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HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

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free-falling-grenade · 3 years

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Imagine Raya being all cocky once she accepts her feelings for Namaari, they are walking down the palace in Fang and raya goes "i will fight anyone and everyone for your love" or something like that, and Virana is nearby and says "I accept the challenge" and both girls are like :o *insert pikachu meme here *

HA. Omg, Virana totally would accept the challenge. AAA Here’s a mini ficlet for it: “I accept the challenge”

Raya blinks owlishly at the Chief before leaning in to ask Namaari if her mother is secretly a skilled warrior. But she herself doesn't actually know how well the Chief of Fang can fight. Never given the opportunity to see, so when she says that she accepts Raya's challenge, she's quite taken aback.

Namaari just stares wide eyed and shrugs because she can't tell if her mother was just joking or if she was serious, her expression too neutral to guess.

Raya stands there almost faltering from the Chief's challenging stare but she shakes away her fear and nervously nods, "So be it"

Namaari just turns to her utterly shocked, because she can't be serious right now.

They're right outside the throne room, at the bottom of the steps. Fang soldiers and merchants alike have gathered to watch out of curiosity after overhearing the challenge.

Virana just steps forward, and casually asks for the spear General Atitaya is holding. She hands it to her in a daze, not quite sure if the Chief will pull through. She fears for her well being. She knows how well Raya is with her fighting skills, having had the opportunity to witness Namaari's and her spars, and being offered to spar against her as well.

Raya draws out her kris slowly, stepping forward herself, a few feet distance between her and the Chief. She gulps thickly, "Okay. We're actually doing this. Cool, cool." She mostly says to herself.

Virana just raises an eyebrow smirking, "Don't tell me you are backing out, Princess Raya." She taunts as she weighs Atitaya's spear in her hands, flipping it around seamlessly.

Raya just scoffs a little offended, "I never back out from a challenge, Chief Virana. Especially not when it's for Namaari's hand"

Meanwhile the Fang princess stands there glued to the floor, the crowd staring at her, some expecting her to stop the two before literal blood is shed. But the problem is, Namaari knows three of the most stubborn people in her life: one of which is herself, and the other two? The ladies in front of her seemingly ready to cut each others throats out. There is literally no stopping them once their mind is made.

She runs a hand through her hair, keeping it in place as she watches Raya and her mother, who she still has no knowledge of how well her fighting skills are, position themselves into a fighting stance.

In any other day, Namaari would laugh at the comical idea of it all, her mother in her signature white dress, and Raya in way too formal clothing to be comfortable in a fight.

"Just a warning, Chief. I don't plan on holding back" Raya warns, if she's going to this, might as well not let her guard down.

Virana just grins, "I didn't expect you to" she says then charges, skipping the pleasantries. Her dress limiting her steps a little but enough for her to move around smoothly.

Raya, caught of guard, hastily blocks the spear coming at her face. She huffs away her shock, a playful grin coming to her face at the realization that this is definitely not a game. It's indeed a legit challenge the Chief had agreed to and she will treat it as such.

She swings her own blade towards the Chief, her mind consciously pulling back her strength, afraid she might hurt the princess' mother. However, Virana seems to sense this, using it to her advantage to nick the skin on her shoulder. This elicited a loud gasp around them.

Raya backflips away, glancing down at the cut. She looks up at the Fang Chief's face who wore a smug look, "I thought you said you weren't going to hold back?"

The Heart princess can't help the amusement to show on her lips, she now understands where Namaari's infuriating taunts came from.

Instead of replying, she charges with complete intention to hurt, not caring that she is facing the Chief of Fang anymore. She swings aggressively leaving no space for the older woman to strike. She sees her struggling, her dress limiting her movements as she backs away trying to block each of her powerful strikes.

Raya for a second thought to give her a break, so she swiftly pulls the leg under the dress with her own, tripping her backwards. She lands on her back with a loud thud, her white dress now soiled and damaged.

She doesn't notice Atitaya holding back some of the Fang soldiers who were about to step in and help their Chief. Namaari who's rendered speechless stood ramrod stiff. The crowd wore wary expressions watching their beloved Chief on the floor.

Raya turns away for a second to catch her lover’s gaze but she regrets it almost immediately hearing the shuffle from in front her. She fails to react fast enough, feeling the long metal spear swiftly hitting the back of her knees knocking her off balance then the edge of it meeting her stomach.

She huffs out in pain, mustering the energy to roll away quickly when the spear lifts again to hit her.

She doesn’t get time to spit out a witty retort when the Chief starts swinging at her with surprising precision and tentative strikes. The hits as powerful as Raya's previous swipes earlier. She blocks them effortlessly though, looking for a way to knock her out again but the speed is seemingly too distracting to even think of a way.

She grunts in frustration, deciding to put a physical distance between them instead as she uses the Chief's leg that's pushed forward to step on her thighs and jump over the tall woman. She uses the distraction to step back a little, recollecting herself.

She breathes out to calm her thoughts, risking another glance at the other princess who stood way too dazed and in shock to even glance at her back. She huffs out an amused laugh at her face. The Chief charges at her noticing the distracted moment, the end of her spear managing to graze the side of her cheek. She hisses out in pain.

She slides down dodging her next swing but as if predicted, the older woman's knee collides with her face harshly. She sees white spots temporarily as she falls on her knees disoriented. She feels the sharp edge of the spear by her neck.

"Do you yield, Princess of Heart?" She hears the Chief say sounding a bit too winded.

Raya takes in a deep shaky breath, her eyes closing. She exhales out with a grin, "Never."

She doesn't let the older woman react before reaching out and pulling her spear forward, letting it slice the surface of her neck lightly. She uses the close distance to throw a dirty punch on the Chief's midsection. She inwardly cringed at that, her mind still hoping she didn't hurt her too much. But her body reacting by itself, stood up to kick the bent over Chief that sent her skidding backwards.

She waits for a few more seconds to see if the woman would stand again but when she remained on the floor coughing, she walks over pointing down her sword at her opponent's throat.

"Do you yield, Chief of Fang?" Her tone surprisingly serious as Virana stares back at the Princess' determined eyes.

She lets the silence lapse between them, the hushed whispers of the crowd barely audible as she tries to find any ill intent and malice in the young girl's eyes. However, she sees nothing but love and devotion.

A tender smile graces Virana's lips, her arms lifting up in surrender, "I yield, Princess. You win"

She hears Raya's sharp intake of breath before seeing her sword clatter beside them and bending down to pull her up into an embrace. The crowd around them breaks into an applause, clearly entertained from the intense fight.

She grunts in pain at the bone crushing hug the Princess has her in, "You have my blessing, sunlight. But if you could let me breathe, that would be great" she manages to murmur out.

Raya pulls back instantly, an apologetic look on her face. There are tears that brimmed her eyes, "I'm sorry"

"I'll be fine. You left this old lady pretty bruised but you are quite a fighter, Princess."

Raya bashfully grins, "You left me some pretty nice cuts too. But, who knew the Chief of Fang has hidden skills up her sleeve" “I’m no damsel in distress, Princess Raya. I am a well capable Chief” Virana states half heartedly.

Raya snickers lightly, not doubting it for a second. She stands up offering a hand for the older woman to take. She willingly accepts, pulling herself upright. She staggers back a little but the feeling of strong arms catches her quick.

Namaari stands behind her mother supporting her. She shakes her head vigorously, a smile of disbelief tugging on her lips, "You both are actually insane and out of your minds"

Raya smiles softly, "Just for you, dep la"

Virana nods in agreement then latches on to her daughter's hold, visibly exhausted. Raya lifts the older woman's other arm behind her neck to support her other side.

"Let's get you to the healers"

They help the beat up Chief walk, the merchants and guards bowing in respect as they passed, all of them beaming with pride and joy as if she had won the fight.

"You definitely gave them something to write for Kumandra's history books" Namaari comments eliciting a genuine laugh from the older Chief.

"The only time I don't mind being defeated" Virana tenderly says. The two lovers on each of her side supporting her. She really doesn't mind another daughter in the family. -x- This got so long omg. Thank you, anon? Also you can’t possibly tell me Virana doesn’t know how to fight. I doubt she’s all bark and no bite. That woman is hiding her skills coz she doesn’t wanna get her dirty. Should i post this on ao3 or just leave it here LOL

#uhhh this turned longer than i thought #OOPS #well have a ficlet i guess?#rayaari #rayaari fanfic #raya #namaari #chief virana #raya and the last dragon

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blush-and-books · 3 years

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i am always yours

canonverse juke one-shot, light angst with a happy ending :) as a part of the effort to get juke back on the tumblr fandometrics ship list! title from the end of all things by p!atd. again, fuck brendon urie, but i’ve had this hc about luke for awhile (you’ll see what i mean) and had to get this out! <3 enjoy!

When Julie told Luke about Panic! At The Disco, she didn’t just give him a list of songs to check out. She advised to listen through entire albums.

“You have a lot to catch up on,” she said, grinning over a mug of steaming tea. Her smile could convince him to do anything. “And these guys were a phenomenon. Despite… A lot that has happened with their lead singer, you’ll appreciate the music. Just give it a try when you feel like it.”

Julie never rushed him on anything. It was one of the things he loved most about her -- she only really insisted he know how to use her phone and the internet and maybe know some memes, but the rest was up to him. She loved him -- he hoped -- even if he wanted to stay in 1995.

However, whenever she told Luke to do something, like “look into it if you’re interested” or “check it out if you’re ever bored,” he would jump on it in an instant.

He wondered if she ever noticed. Acts of service was one of those love language things that Flynn was always talking about, right? Does making the effort to show an interest in the other person’s life by listening to every album by a band they like count?

He would ask Reggie or Alex, but Reggie doesn’t have much experience in the love department and Alex and Willie are much better at communicating than he is with Julie.

To be clear: Luke doesn’t have experience either. In fact, Reggie probably has more romantic experience between the two of them.

But none of it was as serious. This weird thing he has with Julie; this undefined, label-lacking supernova of passion and emotion that he has curled up in his chest is so strong sometimes it hurts. When Julie was upset at him and ignored him, it felt like the time his mom took his guitar and locked it away for a week.

But when Julie is around, and she’s smiling at him, he could swear that not even a roaring audience could spark the kind of nirvana he feels.

So, the day after she gives him the name of every Panic! album to date, she goes to school for six hours and he sneaks her laptop down to the garage and starts his deep dive.

(Yes, Julie gave him computer privileges. He knows boundaries. She’s just broadened hers.)

Blissfully and with few interruptions from his other bandmates, he goes through the first albums quickly. He skips most of Pretty Odd -- Julie should have warned him about that one -- and is enjoying himself until he gets to the later projects which are significantly less his sound.

But he keeps going. He reaches their album from 2013, which has this neon-angsty-alt-pop vibe that he honestly has a neutral opinion on. The songs are all good until he realizes that half of them have a painfully romantic overtone that ropes his mind back to Julie every time he tries to stray.

Fuck, one of the songs is literally titled Girl That You Love. How is he not supposed to have a montage of Julie in his head?

And then some shit called Far Too Young To Die comes on, and yes, he agrees, he was far too young to die. He also vows to never listen to it again in the next 24 hours because he is ultimately tempted to loop it until Julie comes back and kiss her breathless the second that she walks through the door.

Moving on, Collar Full doesn’t make things much better. He is sick and tired of waiting and dancing around his feelings for her, and every time they are together he is filled to the brim with lyrics and love from just minutes in her presence.

(“If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I want to go” definitely shatters him. But only briefly. He wants to soak up every ounce of love he can get from her before the world catches up to them and he’s crossing over without his consent.)

Luke thinks that he’s out of the woods when he hits the album-ending ballad, The End of All Things.

And then he sees that he’s still in the thick of it.

The way it hits him is nearly indescribable -- but every line hits like a read-aloud of his diary.

No matter where he is, or where he ends up, his soul will always belong to Julie Molina. And that’s the truth of it. He can cross over or the band could break up and he could wander the planet as a lost ghost for the rest of eternity, but his soul will linger; tied with Julie’s in an unsolvable knot.

He is hers.

He is hers, he is hers, he is hers.

And he’s in love with her.

He can’t ask her to love him back. But he can hope, right? For just a single moment where they can lay together and be Julie and Luke like they should have been.

The tears on his cheeks and under his eyes don’t register until they are streaming down his neck and onto the pillow that he’s laying on.

He doesn’t deserve Julie, he knows that. And he knows how fucking selfish it would be to even try. But sometimes the wanting reaches inside of him and individually snaps each and every one of his ribs, and that feeling keeps him pushing and pulling like the tide. Get close to her, make her smile, make her laugh.

Leave her alone. Stop flirting. Don’t you dare hurt her.

Think about somebody other than yourself.

This song, he ends up looping. Over and over and over until his emotions are exhausted and he doesn’t have any tears left to cry. He’s on his… Probably his ninth listen when the doors crack open, and the piano music is leaking out of the garage as Julie slips in.

“Luke! Hey, uh… Oh! You’re listening to Panic!”

He guiltily allows his heart to skip at the pleasant surprise in her smile. Clearing his throat, he swipes his hands viciously across his cheeks to rid of the tear stains and shoots her one of his classic smiles. “‘Course, Boss. You told me to.”

Her backpack hits the coffee table as she slowly approaches the couch to settle next to him. “Yeah, well… I didn’t actually expect you to. People normally just say ‘yeah, I’ll check it out!’ and then no one talks about it again.”

Something rubs him the wrong way about her not thinking that he would actually follow through with her recommendation. Does she doubt him? How does she not know that she could say jump and he would ask how high?

“Well, I’m not normal people. I care about what you care about.”

He knows he got her when she averts her eyes to Alex’s drums across the room; giving Luke a perfect view of her blush. Maybe he lets himself revel in it for a moment longer than necessary.

“Anyways, how was school? Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine,” she shakes off her previous flusteredness, tucking her leg under her body so that she can turn to fully face him. “But there's nothing to tell. I would much rather hear about what you thought of Panic! And you have to tell me why you were wiping tears off of your face when I came in.”

Luke mirrors her position and gives her a joyful grin, trying to ignore the fact that she clearly noticed him trying to clean his face and wants to talk about it. The two of them have been so good at communication, and if it were about anything else, he would tell her.

But he was nearly sobbing because of how much he loved her and couldn’t have her, so…

“They were pretty cool, I’ll give it to you. I liked the album… Vices and Virtues?” Julie nods her head. “Yeah, that one. I was finishing the Vegas one when you got home.”

“Did you like it? The album you just finished. It sounded like End of All Things when I came in.”

With wide eyes and an exaggerated nod, Luke is praying internally that she will move on and go on a tangent about her favorite albums and songs because he just wants to listen to her talk and quietly love her instead of dodge questions about his emotions.

“Okay, and did you like it? Is that-” She chuckles. “Is that what got you emotional? I mean, I get it, that song hits different sometimes, but-”

Luke stays quiet. If he keeps his mouth shut, and just smiles and stares and nods, it won’t slip.

“... Luke? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“... So? Are you… Are you okay? Did it remind you of your mom?”

It reminded me of you, he instantly corrects her with the little voice in his head.

But the voice sounds louder than usual, and then Julie’s eyes widen, and Luke couldn’t even smile and nod well enough to cover this up. Since when is he so bad at bottling up his emotions?

Right. Since he couldn’t write songs about his feelings. Because if he did, Julie would see them, so every word of affection toward her was shoved into an overflowing filing cabinet in his brain that was probably waiting to explode at any moment.

“It- Really?”

Mental checklist: She isn’t running away. She isn’t crying. She isn’t running away while she’s crying.

She isn’t slapping him, or screaming at him, or expressing any negative emotions.

Maybe he can push another inch… Just for some relief.

“Y- Yeah.” The single word takes considerable effort to stutter out, but he says it.

Julie formulates her next move. “And… Like, what about it? What reminded you of me?”

Is Luke imagining things, or did she just shift closer to him? Oh, God. The selfishness has already done it’s damage. He’s initiating something that he definitely shouldn’t for both of their sake, but-

God, why does she look so pretty?

“Y’know,” he scratches the back of his neck, “the… The lyrics.”

“The lyrics?” “Yeah.”

“Which ones?”

She’s leaning in. Her fingers are trailing up the side of his leg, and he wants to poof himself out of this conversation but what would hiding do? Just create a bigger gap between them?

His mom always told him he was selfish. He really, really doesn’t want to be selfish to Julie. He wants to protect her. He wants to put her health and happiness and life before his. Hurting her will never give him peace.

Is he being selfish either way? Telling her his feelings to make himself feel better, and avoiding his feelings because he thinks it will be better without talking to her about it -- neither are ideal, are they?

His hand, which was previously resting in his lap, inches down to brush against hers. “The first verse…” Their index fingers wrap around each other. “And the chorus, and the second verse…”

Both of their hands tangle until Luke doesn’t even remember what his hand looked like before, because all he sees is a bronze-ivory marble of skin and he knows he doesn’t ever want to see his hand without hers again.

“Luke…”

“Yeah, Boss?” “Why were you upset?”

She really won’t let it go. She clearly knows him too well, because he would hope any other person would be distracted by the fact that they were about to kiss, but this is Julie. They’re friends first. Family first.

He owes her honesty, doesn’t he?

“Because the song was right,” he answers, staring deadlocked at their joined hands. “No matter where I am, or how much time goes by… It’s gonna be you. On my mind. My feelings will never change.”

He can’t tell, but Julie’s heart ignites in her chest.

“Feelings? What-”

Somehow, the words still don’t want to come out. The eight letters are resisting every opportunity she has offered him, so he resorts to actions and cuts her off by raising their joined hands to kiss the back of her hand.

His lips linger before their union drops back into the space between them.

“... Oh.”

“Yeah.”

In a moment of courage, Luke peeks up at her, just to see how she looks. If he can read everything she’s feeling in a millisecond of a glance.

There are tears in her eyes.

“Whoa, Jules, why are you crying?” “Why were you crying?”

“Because I’m afraid of doing this!” Her hand tightens around him at his volume. “Julie, I- I don’t want to do anything selfish. I can’t have you thinking I’m selfish. I’m afraid of-” He has to take a deep, shaky breath. “When we hold hands or when you smile at me and I just feel so much and then I tell myself that I can’t, because you have so much ahead of you, and I don’t even know what’s in my future.”

The tears well in her eyes. “What would you be doing that’s selfish, Luke? You have a second chance at life. You should fucking live it. You have a future, and it has the boys, and the band, and me. I’m in your future.”

There’s a beat, because he’s looking at her, and he wants to cry but he wants to say it so badly.

He still doesn’t know how much time he has in the future, but Julie is telling him that she’ll be there. And he needed that more than anyone would understand.

“Well, aren’t I?”

Julie’s question shocks him a little because he hadn’t realized that he had been quiet for so long. Her bottom lip trembles the smallest amount when she sucks in a deep breath, and it sets him off to do what he had once deemed to be the most selfish act of all.

His free hand tucks itself in the hair on the base of her neck and tugs her towards him before he covers her mouth with his in a kiss that he has furiously dreamed of for a long time. For such a sweet moment, there is an overload of passion behind it. All of his fantasies were rushed and adrenaline-fueled after shows before he would talk himself down; and now, that is translating to this kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps as he pulls away. “That’s the selfish thing I was worried about. Fuck, I-”

Her hand wrestles free from his, and suddenly, two hands are on his cheeks like the night after the Orpheum and the love of his life is pulling herself into his lap. On autopilot, he untucks his leg from underneath him and shifts to sit normally on the couch while Julie’s legs hold her up on each side of his hips.

And she’s kissing him again, touching him again, before he can let the panic set in. She moves her lips against his like she has her own overflowing filing cabinet of feelings and fantasies and lyrics just for him.

Her hands wondrously drain every jolt of worry and anguish from his nervous system as they run from his face to his arms to his chest and back again. Kissing Julie Molina is a thousand little feelings and it’s own feeling in itself.

When you get cold water from a water fountain and it’s so refreshing that you insatiably want more. When the set ends and Luke is taking his bows and watching people scream and clap for their performance, knowing once again he’s succeeding in the one thing he’s ever wanted to do.

Only now, making music is now tied with making Julie happy on that list of priorities.

Holding her under his hands is stupidly one of his favorite things, and in this context, it is leaving him clawing for more. He applies more pressure against her back to try and press her closer, but it never feels like enough.

Julie is an endless fountain of fervor, and he can only drink up everything he can get.

She’s the one who pulls away this time; but she keeps her fingers knotted in his hair because she plans to not stray far.

“You’re not selfish,” she sighs, chest heaving with deep breaths. “If you think that’s selfish, then I’m selfish. And we can do this together. We deserve it.”

Hearing the words tumble from her lips cancels out every fight he’s ever had with his mother.

She’s right -- they do deserve it. She shut the world out for a year, he was locked away from the world for 25, and by some miraculous turn of fate, they were brought to each other.

“We deserve it,” he repeats, a little distracted by her blown pupils and delirious smile. “We deserve it.”

They lean in at the same time to fall back into one another like it’s a new routine they’ve set. Luke doesn’t say the words, not yet, at least-

Because like she said, they deserve this. Julie Molina is on his lap, in his arms, playing him with her soft hands like his skin is the ivory keys she’s been playing since childhood. He loves her, and he’s pretty sure that she loves him -- so maybe, even though the future is uncertain, he can just wait a little longer to tell her. There’s simultaneously less of a delay and less of a rush.

Later, when they’re in her room and staying up way too late for a school night in deep discussion, he mumbles it against her forehead while she has her head tucked into his shoulder and their shared earbuds are playing The End of All Things.

Any concerns of selfishness fade when she wastes no time in reciprocating his declaration and punctuating her feelings with a cripplingly soft kiss above his collar bone.

If any of this is selfish, they can be selfish together. Luke can find himself to be content in that if Julie is right there with him.

tags: @lydias--stiles @bluefirewrites @willexx @moreflowersthanweeds @ruzek-halstead @xxprettylittletimebombxx @unsaid-emily

#juke #jukebox #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic #julie molina #luke patterson #julie molina x luke patterson #palina

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kdenbibi · 4 years

Text

Boo

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x African American! Reader

Request: Hello! Could I make a request please? Could you write an African American! Exchange student! X Kaminari Denki?(or Hitoshi Shinsou, all my faves are problematic) If I need to be more specific, I have an idea: •The reader is normally a tough girl, but Since its spooky season™️ the two of them decide to go to a haunted house and it turns out she gets spooked pretty easily -> teasing ensues But anything would be fine because I like your writing style! If you dont have the time, that's ok, thank you!

AN: I'm sorry if it's short and or trash but I love this goofy fool sm and I'm really happy someone requested him!!! (ALSO I HATEMYSELF YOU REQUESTED THIS IN OCTOBER AND IM POSTIN IT IN JUNE END ME)

"Remind me again why I agreed to do this shit?"

"I’ve always said one day my daring charm and wit would finally getcha’- please don’t go I was just playing!" He laughed out catching my elbow before I could escape the oncoming headache.

"No, you said we were going to a pumpkin patch dickhead, this ain’t a pumpkin patch." You felt your eye twitch as you walked closer to your real destination, the scariest Halloween attraction in your town.

"I may have stretched the nature of the pumpkins, they'll still be here! Just on the heads of people trying to kill you in a corn maze.”

Almost as if to emphasize his statement shrill screams coming from within the maze finally reached your ears, and shit did it send a chill up your spine, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Huffing out a laugh you turned to face the eccentric blonde, "We're gonna have to square up after this you know that right?"

"What? I'm not a square! I picked this place after all." He boasted gesturing to the haunting atmosphere hanging over the two of you, before you could correct him on the term a particularly loud shriek had the both of you jumping in place, the sudden movement caused your hand to ever so slightly brush against his, unknown to you, but the harmless action had his heart racing faster than the zombie that chased the two of you from the ticket booth to where you now stood.

“If something grabs me i’m going to hit you.”

He laughed holding a hand to his chest in mock hurt, “Why are you gonna hit me?! I’ll only grab you if you ask- wAIT STOP LEAVING.”

“Well i’m not gonna hit the worker, they’re just doing their job.”

“You know I’m surprised.”

“What that I actually dragged my ass outta bed to be here? Me too.”

“No, well yes and no heh.” You turned to face him, overly aware of your place in line and how it slowly but surely grew closer to the dark entrance.

“Well you seem kinda..”

“Is there an end to that sentence?”

“Don’t bite my head off okay?” he anxiously toyed withe the strings of his hoodie, his eyes darting around from your face to the floor,

“You almost seem kinda, scared?”

“Boy if you don’t-”

“Next.”

Was the only word the doorman said as he ushered the two of you forward, cutting off your defense before it could begin, you’ve been in burning buildings, the bad end of a gun fight and can proudly say you’ve talked back to your mama and lived to tell the tale, statistically, you a bad bitch, things can’t shake you.

cept’ this.

The air seemed to grow colder as you wordlessly moved forward, your hands twitched at your sides, the longer nothing happened the tighter you tensed up.

“Pretty cool huh?” he whispered at your side making you jump nearly two feet in the air, your hands flying up to press against your temples.

“Whhhat the hell man? Why would you go and do some shit like that?”

He tried in vain to bite back a smile at your reaction, pausing his steps he stared down at you, “So you are scared!”

“Well no, your loud ass whispering caught me off guard is all.” He rolled his eyes, the grin on his face only growing as you suddenly picked up the pace, he had to jog to not lose you.

“Wait up a second here-”

“What good does that do anyone in horror movies ever? Exactly.” He laughed tugging at your sleeve.

“Come on! I’ve been asking you out since you transferred and you finally said yes, stay a while.” The urge to clown him for the line was strong, only outweighed by the urge to throw him a bone, to his credit, he had been asking you out since your first day in class, you gave him an elaborate excuse not to go every single time, it became sort of a game, no matter how ridiculous the lies got, he never argued, never got mean like a lot of people do when they get rejected, instead he’d laugh along and swear one day he’d get you to say yes, and somewhere, along the way, among the jokes and terrible, garbage pick up lines, you began to notice a few things about Denki Kaminari.

The first was that he had two sides, the guy who tries to be cool, the school flirt, this is the guy he usually was, but there was also this version of him that switches his Netflix to English when you come over, just to make it easier for you to enjoy, the kinda guy that sends you memes when you’ve had a bad day, the kinda guy who actually remembered how homesick you got talking about Halloween back home so he tried to surprise you with what he no doubt thought was a good idea.

Points for effort.

You sighed slowing your pace to fall beside him, once ore you continued forward in silence, you finally came to a choice in the path, left or right.

“So, where we going?” you asked subtly inching closer to him, the skin crawly feeling seemed to spread as you stared down the offending paths,knowing no matter where you went, some scurry shit was waiting for you.

“You tell me gorgeous.”

“Why the hell should I know?” he rolled his eyes, tugging you with a grin

“Fine! Lets go this way.” he began walking to the left, to his surprise you’d suddenly latched on his arm pulling him back.

“D-Don’t the screams sound louder down there?”

He tried to memorize the way you wrapped around his arm, not knowing if he’d get the chance again, he was so caught up he nearly forgot how to speak.

“Okay, no problemo, uh right it is-” a shout from that direction halted both your steps.

“Well shit.”

“Took the words right out my mouth.”

“Only way out is through babe.” he hesitantly gripped your hand in his own, his hold loose enough for you to pull away, when you didn’t, he swallowed thickly before tightening his grip.

“Come on, I got you scaredy cat .” he gently tugged your rigid form along thanking every deity he knew he found this place online

“If you let me die on our first date I’m telling god.”

“Ah-Ha! You admit this is a date?”

“Yes! whatever get me thefuckupouttahere!” your words were rushed as you tugged him forward, sidestepping a zombie on the floor, your grip was iron but he couldn’t find the heart to care, not when you were wrapped around him in a way he’d only imagined before.

The rest of the event was a blur as you dodged any and everything you seen, in fact it wasn’t until he pointed it out did you realize you'd ran all the way back to the train station.

While you leaned on your knees and desperately tried to get air back into your body, he was busy watching you with the sweetest little smile curling on his lips, because even in a moment like this you were still the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and as that thought processed, he understood just how whipped he was.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that be so scary.”

“Okay, you wanna makes jokes huh, fine next time we’re going on the biggest roller coaster in japan and I’m gonna watch your soul leave your body.”

“Can’t wait sugar.” he said looping an arm around your shoulders.

#poc reader #poc reader insert #poc imagine #bnha kaminari #bnha #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #denki kaminari

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tigerkirby215 · 4 years

Text

5e Rengar the Pridestalker build (League of Legends)

⚠️ WARNING: THE FOLLOWING BUILD USES CONTENT FROM THE MYTHIC ODYSSEYS OF THEROS SOURCEBOOK. DO NOT OPEN IF YOU WISH TO AVOID SPOILERS. ⚠️

(Artwork by Riot Games)

I don’t really have a blurb to write about Rengar. Pretty much the only reason I’m making him is because it’s a blatantly obvious pick for a Leonin from Theros. Rengar hasn’t been that meta-relevant for awhile and I tried playing him once but I did kinda meh overall.

I’ve got nothing else so here’s a comic I found on Pintrest:

GOALS

Tonight, we hunt! - The key ability of the Danger Cat is to turn invisible and jump out at you from nowhere. Guess what we’ll be getting.

Don't trip - Rengar’s a simple cat who relies on simple tools to hunt. A knife and a set of bolas.

Comfort breeds weakness - And the ability to shout loud enough to escape danger. Okay maybe a little more than just simple tools.

RACE

Hey remember when I said this?

Pretty much the only reason I’m making him is because it’s a blatantly obvious pick for a Leonin from Theros.

Your race is going to be a Leonin from Theros. As a Leonin you get a +2 to your Constitution and +1 to your Strength, and a movement speed of 35 feet. (Which I wouldn’t normally mention but it is above the norm!) You have Darkvision up to 60 feet to see in the jungle, and Claws that do a d4 slashing damage. You also have Hunter’s Instincts for a choice of skill between Athletics, Intimidation, Perception, or Survival. We’re actually going to choose Intimidation because you’ll be getting the other skills from other sources, and you’re a fairly intimidating danger cat.

But the main ability we’re here for is Daunting Roar. As a bonus action you can roar to frighten enemies of your choice within 10 feet of you that can hear you. They must make a Wisdom save equal to 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Constitution modifier or become frightened until the end of their next turn. You can only use this trait once per short rest, however. Man isn’t it great when we can get an ability straight from the race?

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - You are a swift hunter, pouncing between bushes and climbing up the foliage for a height advantage... What I’m saying is that Rengar is a cat. (And if you don’t own Leonin feel free to play a Tabaxi, which probably works better for this build anyways.)

14; CHARISMA - Charisma is tied to intimidation, and one of your abilities is to yell at people so loud they take damage.

13; STRENGTH - More of a “we get +1 from our race and I dislike odd ability scores” than anything, but you spent your whole life surviving in the jungles of Ixtal. It’s safe to say that you lift.

12; CONSTITUTION - Rengar’s an assassin, but a sturdier assassin than most.

10; WISDOM - Would probably be more in-character to have a high Wisdom score since it’s tied to Survival among other things, but simply put we need other skills more.

8; INTELLIGENCE - You live a life of the hunt, not a life of the book.

BACKGROUND

Remember back in the race section when I said this?

you’ll be getting the other skills from other sources

The Outlander background gives you proficiency in both Athletics and Survival, which is why we didn’t take it from Hunter’s Instincts. You also get proficiency with one musical instrument of your choice (Drums might fit but see if your DM will allow you to have an Artisan’s Tool instead) as well as a language.

Your Wanderer feature allows you to remember the general layout of any area you’re in as long as you spent a day around it, and lets you find food and water for your party as long as its available in the landscape. I should assume most people know the layout of Summoner’s Rift by now, but it does help to know the best jungle clear paths.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Who would’ve guessed that an Assassin would start as a Rogue? As a Rogue you get four skills from the Rogue list: Acrobatics, Investigation, Perception, and Stealth would all make sense for a jungle hunter. Speaking of jungle hunter your pride likely communicated with Thieves’ Cant so that no stalkers from the void could tell what you’re saying. (Only other Rogues.) And speaking of sense you get Expertise in two skills of your choice, and both your sense of Stealth and sense of Survival are heightened far beyond the norm.

Stealth is important for Sneak Attack. You can hide in a bush and jump out screaming “OOGA BOOGA” to do an extra d6 of damage. You can also do that extra d6 if the enemy you’re targeting is near an ally, they’re incapacitated, or you have advantage to attack them. As long as you’re using a Finesse weapon to attack them it’s fine, and I’d argue that you’re probably using two shortswords.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

At level 2 Rogues get access to Cunning Action, letting them Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a bonus action. Naturally with expertise in Stealth you can do a lot of hiding, but running or... running is always an option. Not one you’d likely take but living to fight another day is all part of the hunt.

LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3

At level 3 Rogues get to choose their Roguish archetype. “Oh Rengar must be an Assassin for those sneak attacks right?” “Naturally he’s a Scout since he spent so much time in the jungle?” WRONG! Rengar’s a Thief!

WHY THIEF? - Thief Rogues get climbing and added mobility when jumping around, which is very in-flavor for Rengar.

WHY NOT ASSASSIN? - The only real bit of “assassination” Assassin Rogues do is crit surprised enemies. It’s cool and all but the rest of the subclass is focused on disguises.

WHY NOT SCOUT? - Scout has more of a focus on mobility which Rengar really... isn’t...? It doesn’t have any Rengar-like abilities until level 13, and we won’t even be getting to level 13 in this build.

With all that being said...

Thief Rogues have Fast Hands, letting them use their Cunning Action to perform Slight of Hand checks to open locks, disarm traps, use an object, or anything else that Slight of Hand is used for (which you probably won’t do much.)

But Second-Story Work is something you will use a lot if playing in-character. You get a climbing speed equal to your walking speed, and your long jump is increased by your Dexterity modifier, so you can pounce out of the bushes! Speaking of pouncing out of the bushes your Sneak Attack now increases to 2d6.

LEVEL 4 - ROGUE 4

4th level means an Ability Score Increase, but hey odd ability scores. Time for our good friend the Athlete feat for +1 to DEX and the ability to stand up quick and jump without a running start. The climbing speed portion unfortunately doesn’t affect us because of our subclass, but there aren’t many other feats that fit in character except maybe Weapon Master for Scimitar proficiency? But that’ll become irrelevant soon as well.

LEVEL 5 - ROGUE 5

At 5th level Rogues get Uncanny Dodge. If you’re hit with an attack you can use your reaction to halve the attack’s damage against you. Exactly half you say? Wow it’s almost like Rengar has an ability to heal himself for half the damage he recently took! And your Sneak Attack increases to 3d6 at this level!

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 6 - WARLOCK 1

Jumping over to Warlock for a-OH GOD DAMMIT.

The extremely dead meme about me sticking Warlock levels into literally everything aside we’ll be investing in Warlock for a number of reasons, but the question one must always ask is what Patron to serve. How about the spirit of the jungle itself? More specifically an Archfey of the jungle. Your patron gives you a Fey Presence, allowing you to spend your action to force creatures within a 10 foot cube centered around you to make a Wisdom save against your Warlock DC or become either Charmed or Frightened by you. Yes this is effectively the same as your roar, only it affects allies, has a shorter range, takes a full action instead of a bonus action, and can charm. But you now have two roars; congrats.

But of course what we’re really here for is Pact Magic. You get two cantrips from the Warlock list and oh hey Eldritch Blast. The obvious one aside I’m actually going to suggest Create Bonfire for the second cantrip, and it’s entirely for the roleplay purposes. Sit down at a fire and spitroast your latest catch.

For your leveled spells Hex will let you mark a target for the hunt, giving them disadvantage on skill checks related to an ability of your choice and letting you do an extra d6 damage whenever you hit them. If you’re dealing with invisible enemies however buying a Sweeper Lens wouldn’t be a bad idea, and Faerie Fire from the Archfey list will let you reveal your foes for the hunt. And you get Advantage to attack enemies revealed by Faerie Fire, which means you can Sneak Attack them!

LEVEL 7 - WARLOCK 2

Second level Warlocks get Eldritch Invocations to empower their abilities in a number of ways. Seeing as we have Eldritch Blast Lance of Lethargy will let us turn it into an Eldritch Bola to slow down our foes. For your second invocation just pick whatever you think is good since none of them really stick out to me. Similarly I suggest you hold off on taking any spells until next level.

LEVEL 8 - WARLOCK 3

Level 3 Warlocks get their Pact Boon and... yeah. Pact of the Blade makes the most sense. Summon a weapon; summon a scimitar that you have proficiency with if you so-desire. Take the one invocation that buffs up your weapons.

And now here’s the point where we get the spells I told you to hold off on: Hold Person for empowered E, Invisibility for R. Both great ways to get Advantage for Sneak Attack!

LEVEL 9 - WARLOCK 4

At 4th level Warlocks get an Ability Score Increase, because all classes get an Ability Score Increase at level 4. Increase your Dexterity for more dangerous stabs!

You also get another cantrip at this level, as well as another spell. Cantrip choice honestly doesn’t matter, but for leveled spell take Misty Step because you know me and suggesting Flash.

LEVEL 10 - WARLOCK 5

5th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation and obviously as the danger cat who hides in the bushes you need to be better at hiding. One with Shadows lets you become invisible if you stand still in an area of dim light or darkness, so that you can pounce out and stab at anyone who comes close!

There’s a bunch of other good ones at 5th level you can take if you don’t want more invisibility though: Eldritch Smite? Mire the Mind? Even Thirsting Blade if you really want to spare an invocation just to attack twice.

You also get another spell at this level: Hypnotic Pattern is a big AoE bola that will root all your foes if they fail the save.

LEVEL 11 - WARLOCK 6

6th level Archfey Warlocks get Misty Escape. When you take damage you can turn invisible and teleport 60 feet as a reaction. I don’t know how to reflavor this but it does seem like a very “Rengar” thing to do. Trick the hunters into thinking they caught you before making them the hunted!

And when they know they’re being hunted you can hit them with the spell Fear, frightening them (no duh) and forcing them to run. What are you; a scarecrow?

LEVEL 12 - WARLOCK 7

At 7th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation and Trickster’s Escape will let you roar to get away from danger thanks to one free use of the Freedom of Movement spell. While the spell won’t make you completely immune to all crowd control like it does in League it lasts for one hour and can be applied to teammates! More of a Mikael's Crucible really, but still very useful!

Additionally you can now learn 4th level Warlock spells. The main one we want is Greater Invisibility from the Archfey list, which is like regular invisibility only you don’t lose it when you attack, which is insanely OP when you need to get Sneak Attacks. Feel free to replace Invisibility if you wish but do remember that you can make multiple people invisible with the lower level spell.

Other than that there are some other good spells to grab: Dimension Door is a great pick for a very long distance flash, and there are tons of other great spells at the 4th level which you can consider.

NOTE: If you know that you won’t hit level 20 then another level in Warlock would be wise for more ASIs, however for this build the Warlock levels stop at 7 for the sake of a capstone from Rogue.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 13 - ROGUE 6

Going back to Rogue now: 6th level Rogues get Expertise in two more skills. I think just about any skill would make sense though I’d perhaps recommend Acrobatics or Athletics to help with movement and dealing with grapplers or shovers. Perception’s never a bad thing and the same can be said for Investigation, and Intimidation can help if you need to play rough.

LEVEL 14 - ROGUE 7

7th level Rogues get Evasion, letting them take half damage on a failed DEX save or no damage on a successful one. I always say this is you dodging a skillshot but this can also be you recovering from the damage with your roar. Your Sneak Attack also increases to 4d6.

LEVEL 15 - ROGUE 8

8th level Rogues get an ability score improvement and it’s about time to cap off your Dexterity for maximum armor, evasion, stealth, and stabbing!

LEVEL 16 - ROGUE 9

At 9th level you get Supreme Sneak as a Thief Rogue, giving you Advantage on Stealth checks if you move no more than half your movement speed on your turn. This is the main reason I went for Thief Rogue: Rengar is a master of the hunt and a master of moving stealthily, and with Expertise and Advantage in stealth you can move pretty stealthily. And you know what benefits from all that sneaking? 5d6 Sneak Attack damage!

LEVEL 17 - ROGUE 10

At 10th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement: you capped off your first main stat so how about the other? Increase your Charisma to make your Warlock side better. And your scary lion side.

LEVEL 18 - ROGUE 11

11th level Rogues get Reliable Talent, making any role below a 10 on an ability check you’re proficient in equal a 10. Whenever I get this ability in a Rogue build I like to list off the minimum check you’ll get in every ability you have so...

27 in Stealth

22 in Survival

21 in Acrobatics (unless you put Expertise in it, in which case it would be a 27)

19 in Intimidation (unless Expertise for 25)

18 in Athletics (unless Expertise for 24)

16 in Perception (unless Expertise for 22)

15 in Investigation (unless Expertise for 19)

Your Sneak Attack also increases to 6d6.

LEVEL 19 - ROGUE 12

12th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement so I suggest further investment in Charisma for better Warlocky stuff.

LEVEL 20 - ROGUE 13

Your final level is the 13th level of Thief Rogue. Along with 7d6 Sneak Attack damage you get a capstone that while perhaps not too in-character for Rengar it was too great to pass up in a level 20 build: Use Magical Device lets you ignore all class and race restriction for any magical item you find, meaning that any high level loot your party finds that they can’t use you can grab instead! "All these trophies... I'm gonna need a bigger den!"

FINAL BUILD

PROS

A true hunter never rests - You are always prepared with the ability to summon weapons straight to your hand and tools for combat both up close and at range.

There is the hunter and the hunted - You are a lot harder to pin down than the average Rogue, and Rogues are hard to pin down as is! The only thing worse than dealing with an enemy with Evasion and Uncanny Dodge is dealing with an enemy who can also turn invisible and teleport!

Focus - While some of your skills are perhaps a little situational you are without a doubt the king of the jungle. When it comes to more hands-on tasks like Investigation or Survival you are the right cat for the job.

CONS

Remember every kill - You only have two spell slots, and while they do thankfully come back after a short rest a lot of your spells can be lost due to concentration. It’s hard to hit an invisible foe but still possible, and your Constitution isn’t fantastic.

Let’s fight! - The honest truth is that your Leonin roar along with all your other abilities that cause fear really don’t scale well into high tier play. Most high level enemies are immune to the frightened status effect, and neither your CON nor your CHA are high enough to make the fears truly reliable. Again: this build honestly would’ve worked better with a Tabaxi.

Let's see what they're made of - While your ability checks are great your actual stats leave something to be desired. Where this matters is saving throws: your DEX, INT, and CHA saves are great but +2 on a Strength save isn’t much.

But you’re meant to be an assassin and you’re a damn good one at that. A permanently invisible cat with an infinite amount of sneak attacking weapons is certainly a formidable foe. They are the hunted and you are the hunter: stalk them and strike them down when they receive the mark of the Danger Cat! Just look out for Aberrations: don’t want to lose the other eye.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

#DnD 5e #dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #dnd rogue #dnd warlock #yup it's another fucking warlock #fuck me this keeps happening #League of Legends #League of Legends Rengar #danger cat #Mythic Odysseys of Theros

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crimsonfluidessence · 5 years

Text

Trust Meme

I spent a long time deliberating over this one; I obviously haven’t actually done trust so I looked at a few others and tried my best on what to write, here is my Contribution to this awesome meme Selection: “For the wellbeing of my allies, I won’t stop fighting.” Job: Paladin Weapons: The only thing on him is his classic sword, a blade with a slight scimitar curve and a golden handle. He’ll handle the dungeon in human form alone with only a little dragon magic cheating. AI Behavior: Esredes goes for medium sized pulls. If he is above 15% health, he will use his cooldowns when necessary. He plays responsible tank, dodging AoEs and stunning when enemies try to do one, though he occasionally misses an AoE. If his health drops below 15%, however, he seemingly forgets all about cooldowns and dodging AoEs and simultaneously gains a damage buff and a vulnerability stack (this status is called “Bleeding Vision” if you hover over it), and his attacks become way more aggressive until he is healed back above 15% or dies, either upon which he will lose the status. And he does not ever use Clemency on himself, or any of the magical Paladin moves.

If an ally drops below 30% health, he’ll use Intervention on them. If they drop to 15% health and he is in range, he will activate Cover on them or. He won’t move on until an ally who respawns has come back towards the party.

If any of the party members lag behind, he will turn around and stare back in their direction, but say nothing and proceed on once they catch up. If the other members don’t dodge an AoE more than twice in a row, he will call them out on it (“<Party member>, let me be the one to endure their hits. You need to stay focused or I will be disappointed in you.”). If they ever added in a deepeye/foper as an enemy in a dungeon, he would freeze up and not attack it, forcing the other party members to kill it themselves to make him move again. His behavior also becomes extra cautious against any Behemoth enemies, and he will always dodge any AoE attacks they give. He also can’t be used in any dungeon containing dragons, as he will outright refuse to attack them, or he’d just ruin the dungeon by talking to them and allowing you to bypass fighting them entirely. Battle Lines:

“Stay by me! I can fend them off!” -Cover

“The rocks around here are attracted to annoying. Try not to invoke them again, will you?” -Shield Lob [because his shield is invisible he just telekinetically throws a rock]

“Don’t worry, I can handle this! The wings of a dragon will protect you!” -Passage of Arms

“Oh, your poor head… you should have been more careful.” -Shield Bash [which is instead his pink beam stun attack that exists]

“You’ve forgotten who it is truly standing in your way.” -Provoke

“Oh, you may think you’ve beaten me down, but I am far from through with you.” -Any Cooldown Ability, Variation 1

“I won’t stop until the floor is painted with your blood.” -Any Cooldown Ability, Variation 2

“<Party member>, all you all right? Here, I think you need this more than me.” -Assisting an Ally [Intervention]

Starting Attack Line:

“With this first blow, I can feel your death is upon you.”

“I know death will come for me one day, but you are not lucky enough to be its reason.”

“My, how has the world allowed you to live for this long? I am honored to be the one to fix that mistake.”

Limit Break:

“My, are you doing okay back there? You seem to be having trouble.” - One Bar

“I shouldn’t have to do this… but I’m not letting you die on me.” -Two Bars

“We cannot lose so close to the end! I won’t allow it! You can’t stop me!” -Three Bars

KO’d:

“You… cannot… stop me… death… will not take… ugh…”

“You’ve… accomplished… nothing… Heresy… will live on… and it will destroy you.” [because I am still proud of this line from another meme]

Revived:

“Oh gods… she let go again.... Thank you, <Party Member>.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

Tagged by: @eirh

Tagging: I am just late enough to this that everyone did it already

#character memes #screenshots #character exercises #in action

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imagineyoungjustice · 5 years

Text

1.5k Followers Milestone Drabbles 3/10

I need to cringe! I'd like to request a drabble where Bart decides to only speak in slang and dead memes for a week. He'd probably drive the team insane -Anonymous

Set in between season’s 2 and 3 but probably closer to the end of season 2! Also thank you guys once again for sending in your meme and slang suggestions I’ve never cringed harder when writing a drabble! -Terra

Tags: @ljblve @loverbug1123 @aworldwideapart @wallywestie

Want to be added to our tag list? Send us and ask!

Also the easiest way for me to write this was to do a small collection of “mini scenes” in which Bart would use his memes instead of spending hours I didn’t have this week with all my assignments to make it one long story so I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but this was the way I could push it out faster! Enjoy!

Monday:

When Tim walked into the Watchtower that morning the last thing he expected was to see Bart, dressed in his Kid Flash uniform lying across a gap between two of the branches in the Watchtowers courtyard. He paused mid-step as he looked at the speedster’s placement, a faint flicker of familiarity pricking at the back of his mind at the rigid posture to Bart’s body. Then it finally dawned on him.

“Bart… are you… planking?”

“Fo’ shizzle Tim Drizzle.” Scratch that maybe that was the last thing he expected today.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re really harshing my mellow with all those questions, not very radical behavior of you man.”

He’s sure his eyes were as wide as saucers by now as his mind scrambled to make sense of what he was hearing. He even pinched his arms a few times to make sure he was actually experiencing this right now and it wasn’t just some weird concussion dream.

“Flash said he spent the whole weekend reading up on slang and memes, he hasn’t stopped speaking and acting like this ever since.” Jaime mumbled, his head resting on his palm from where he sat under a different tree. “I already tried explaining dead memes and dead slang to him, but I don’t think he’s quite grasped it yet.”

Tim already knew this was going to be a long week.

Tuesday:

Tim crouched among the underbrush of the jungle, using the thick foliage and natural shadows to conceal himself. The rain was light, but enough to make their stealth mission somewhat miserable with the wet seeping through the seems of their costumes and mud cling to their boots. They had been trudging through this for hours now, and now the end was in sight. There just ahead of them was the plant that had been pushing out a Reach-like drug under a new name. Kaldur had placed Tim in charge, giving him Bart, Jaime, and Vrigil to take it down.

“Okay.” He whispered, looking over to his gathered team. “We need to do this carefully. Jaime, you and your scarab need to crunch the numbers, what are we looking at in terms of numbers and success percentage if we proceed with plan A?”

Jaime paused, looking out over the small compound while the scarab did what it needed to do with its sensors. “Scarab says we’re looking at a thirty-two-point three repeating percent chance of success if we just barge through the front door in a full assault.”

“Okay let’s not do that then. Static you’ll be on point.” Tim started dishing out orders for their plan B strategy when Bart stood up, pulling his red visor down in front of his eyes.

“This is taking too long, time’s up let’s do this! LEEEEEEROOOYYYYY JENKINSSSSSSS.” Bart had sped off into the plant before any of them could stop him. The sounds of gunfire and shouting erupted from inside.

“Oh my god we need to go in after him! Move let’s go!” Tim shouted vaulting over his hiding spot and rushing in through the front doors. Jaime and Virgil were thankfully right behind him. Inside they were met with complete chaos, enemies were scattered everywhere spraying gunfire in every which direction they though Bart was. Tim could only grumble as he threw himself into the fight, dodging what he could and taking the guards out one by one.

Just when they thought they were in the clear, the last of the guards tied up and down for the count, Sportsmaster appeared on the catwalks above them. “I thought I heard the sound of you brats in here. Where’s the rest of your little team? Don’t tell me you’re all that came to shut this place down?” He laughed and jumped over the rails, landing on the concrete in front of them. Tim threw down some smoke pellets and circled around. Jaime and Virgil did their best to keep hitting him from range while Tim did his best to get up close and get a few hits in at crucial points. So far, it wasn’t working out well for them. He didn’t know where Bart was, but they were losing the fight badly, and they really needed his speed.

With a few lucky hits, Virgil and Jaime were down and out. The small distraction from glancing at his teammates let Sportsmaster land a hit to him that sent him flying back and gasping for the air that had been knocked out of his lungs. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of yellow and red at the crate crane control panel, and one of the cranes lifting up.

The crate came back around and smacked into Sportsmaster before he could advance on Tim, slapping him into the adjacent wall hard enough to knock him out. Over his shoulder he could hear Bart in the near distance.

“HE NEEDS SOME MILK.”

He would deny ever laughing as hard as he did later when he was giving his report on what happened.

Wednesday:

Tim was speeding after Brick on his cycle, Cassie and Jaime right behind him. It wasn’t often the team ended up in high-speed chases but if Tim were being honest, he liked the change from the usual stealth missions where they had to watch each and every step. Bart had sped off ahead to try and cut off Brick and his thugs’ convoy. They had stolen important weapons tech, and they couldn’t afford to let him escape.

“KF we’re losing ground where are you!?” Tim shouted into his comm. His motorcycle was fast but not fast enough apparently, especially with the way Brick and his gang were currently swerving through traffic. As much as he liked the change of pace, he did hate it when it was through the middle of a densely populated city.

“I’m practically right there, just hang on tight for a moment everything will be totally tubular just wait!”

“Ay mi dios.” Jaime mumbled from above. “You’d think with as fast as he goes, he would have at least caught up to current slang by now.”

“Tell me about it.” Cassie replied, “I never thought I’d miss him saying ‘crash’ and ‘mode’ as much as I do right now.”

“Let’s focus guys, please?” Tim called. “Blue can you get a shot at any of their tires yet?”

Before Jaime could respond, they saw a familiar yellow and red blur cut into the street just ahead of Brick.

“Damn Daniel, back at it again with the white vans!”

Clever use, Tim just gave snort as Brick and the rest of his gang, very much driving white vans, had no choice but to suddenly swerve and crash into each other in order to avoid hitting Bart.

Thursday:

Tim knew Bart was up to something as soon as he saw the shit-eating grin on the young hero’s face. The shaving cream in his hand was also a pretty good clue. With a small glance in the direction Bart was looking he confirmed exactly what was about to happen.

“Bart if you value your life you will definitely abort exactly what you have planned.” His grin only grew wider.

“Bart I promise you, as someone who lives with the guy. Don’t.”

“SMACK CAM” Bart screeched as he used his speed to race forward, outstretching his hand at the last moment and slapping Batman right across the right cheek with the hand that was full of shaving cream.

“Oh my god that poor dead bastard.” Tim whispered.

It was dead silent in the Watchtower as everyone held their breath for the Dark Knight’s reaction. For his part he stayed silent as he wiped the shaving cream off his face, completely stoic before he turned to Barry.

“Say goodbye to your grandson until he’s born Allen.”

A muffled “YOLO” was the only thing Tim could hear as Bart sped away with Batman hot on his heels.

Friday:

By now it was safe to say the entire team was sick of Bart’s new slang and meme knowledge. Sure every now and again Bart would have a clever use that would earn a small laugh or two, but for the most part they largely missed their mark prompting a lot of groans and sighs.

Jaime had even tried bribing Bart with thirty bags of Chicken Wizee’s in order to get him to stop. It hadn’t worked so far. Nothing had, they were stuck in dead meme and dead slang hell until whatever this was had run its course with him.

That’s why they all cringed as Bart walked up to the group. “What’s up my homeboys and homegirls?”

“Bart we are literally begging you to stop.” Tim said.

“No can do, haters gonna hate!”

“Bart I will literally give you free Chicken Wizee’s for life if you stop.”

“Lit, but as swag as that sounds, I’ll have to pass. Catch you guys on the flip side!” He called as he walked out of the room.

Saturday:

“Hey Robin!” Tim just cringed and tried to ignore him, hoping that Bart would leave if he didn’t say anything. From the sympathetic look Cassie gave him, that wasn’t going to be the case. “Robin! Yo Rob! Robster! Robmiester!”

He just sighed, “Yes Bart?”

“Something came for you in the mail!”

In a momentary lapse of judgement, Tim made a fatal error in his next choice of words. “Oh? What came?”

“DEEZ NUTS.” Bart’s cackles could be heard all over the Watchtower. Tim was going to murder him.

Sunday:

Once again Tim found himself in the middle of a fight with Cassie, Jaime, Virgil and Bart. This time however, the team had been called to assist the League with another bust this time being a large-scale reproduction of the Reach drink under a new name. Zatanna had been stationed with Tim’s squad for their particular section. Their job was to fight their way and disable of the brewery rooms.

“Hey Zatanna!”

“No Bart.”

“I didn’t even say anything yet!”

“I know what you want me to do and my answer is still no.”

He stopped right in front of her, fixing her with his best puppy dog look. “Pleaseeee?”

She just sighed and turned towards the rest of the team. “Everyone get up off the ground now!” Confused they did as they were told except for Bart who looked like a kid in a candy store being told he could get whatever he wanted. “eht roolf si aval!”

Oh, that’s what he had wanted. The floor morphed from simple concrete to burning lava right before the team’s very eyes, taking out the robotic guards they had been pinned down by in mere moments. As soon as Zatanna called off the spell, Tim was quick to get his birdarangs ready before the next wave could barge in.

“Hey Bart.” Tim handed the speedster the birdarangs primed for detonation upon impact. “These bitches empty.”

Bart looked at him with big hopeful eyes as if he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. With a nod from Tim, he gently took them from his hand, turning towards the vats. “YEET.” Bart put his whole body into the throw, each of the birdarangs hitting their target and detonating the vats in an impressive show.

“You’re encouraging him now?” Cassie called as they watched the compound explode in the distance.

“Hey at least this one was current.”

#Bart Allen #Impulse #Tim Drake #Robin III #Robin #Jaime Reyes #Blue Beetle #Young Justice #1.5k milestone #Drabble #Cassandra Sandsmark #Cassie Sandsmark #Wonder Girl #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Zatanna Zatara

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akisazame · 5 years

Text

“Okay, weird pillow talk.”

The DVD commentary meme got me thinking about cut content, which reminded me of this huge swath of words I had to bulldoze out of Greg’s chapter of solutions because they were just not going the way I needed them to. What really bummed me out about this is that my personal favorite bits of Greg/Rebecca dialogue that I wrote happened to be in there, and at the time I wasn’t using tumblr so I figured it’d all just sit in my slush file until the end of time because there was such a slim chance I’d ever write a fic where I could reincorporate it. WELL NOW I’M BACK ON THIS BAD WEBSITE SO HERE IT IS.

This text is obviously kinda rough since it never went through my probably-too-rigorous revisions wringer, so that and an absurd amount of commentary are behind the Read More.

The first draft of Greg’s chapter went swimmingly right up until the necessary conflict of Rebecca and Greg hashing out all the weird bullshit inherent in 104′s plot. My first tactic had Rebecca swinging wildly for the fences, really cashing in on the theme of Greg identifying himself as a runner-up and Rebecca’s inability to stop thinking about the other guys (but like, come on, Nathaniel is clearly a better kisser than Greg). This picks up directly after their post-kiss “I know I’m just some dalliance to you” argument, but instead of Rebecca softening in the face of Greg’s “I bet you say that to all the guys” comment, she bristles and drops a truth bomb.

She hates this, she hates this so much, and she panics. "I moved to West Covina for Josh Chan," Rebecca blurts out. She hadn't meant to say it, has no idea why she said it. It's absurd, after the excessive word mincing she did when she actually was trying to say it to Josh, to just casually drop it now as a non-sequitur. She slaps both her hands over her mouth and stares at Greg, wide-eyed.

And that’s exactly what Greg has been waiting to hear.

There's a long beat where Greg just stares right back at her. Then he scrubs both hands over his face and sighs. "Thank you."

Rebecca blinks. "What?"

"For being honest," Greg says. He shrugs and sticks his hands into his pockets, nonchalant. "I'll just be going then? Great. Have a nice life, Rebecca."

He's halfway to the door before Rebecca fully processes what's happening. It can't happen like this. She can't fuck this up again. "Can you please just hear me out?"

For a half second she thinks he'll ignore her and keep walking, out the door and out of her life. But he doesn't. He stops, turns, looks back at her. She can't interpret the expression on his face.

In a way this all rings true, but at the same time it doesn’t feel earned, and a dramatic storm-out definitely wasn’t the way to go with a time travel redo of a scene that ends with Greg dramatically storming out.

She finds her way to the couch and sits, elbows resting on her knees, chin cupped in her palms. "I moved to West Covina for Josh Chan," she repeats, the thesis statement of her whole goddamn life. "And when I did it, I thought that Josh Chan was the only person who could possibly make me happy. But that's not true at all." Those damned emotions are back again, and she takes a deep breath, swallows them down. "I haven't been fair or even nice to you since the moment we met."

I really liked the “thesis statement of her whole goddamn life” line. “I haven’t been fair or even nice to you since the moment we met” was luckily resurrected for Rebecca’s post-coital crisis.

As she spoke, Greg had been slowly making his way back through the apartment, and now he lowers himself down next to her on the couch. "I'd say that's accurate."

Rebecca tilts her head in her hands to look at him. "But, uh, don't take this the wrong way? You haven't been especially fair or nice to me, either."

Here’s where the published chapter dipped back in for a hot second: Rebecca asked what the purpose of their date was, except instead of “Why waste your time, if you didn’t think it could go anywhere?” she said “It’s pretty clear you never believed any of my lies about Josh.” Then they had the whole “maybe liked or maybe past tense” back-and-forth, leading into the kiss. But instead of really going to town on Greg’s face, Rebecca softballs it (can you tell I did a surgical 180 on “It's the type of kiss that Rebecca, who's never learned how to modulate her feelings of affection, truly excels in”? because I fuckin forgot I did that), and then realizes she has more shit to say because first draft Rebecca was massively self-destructive.

She slides her hands down to his shoulders and breaks the kiss, but she doesn't move away, instead pressing her forehead to his, noses touching. "Hey," she says, breathless, "I need to tell you something." Before it's too late, she doesn't add.

"Lot of things you have to tell me today," Greg teases. He tries to pull away, maybe to silence her with another kiss, but she holds firm, arms encircling his neck to keep him in place.

I thought Greg’s reply was really cute (I imagined it in the same cadence as “Long name I have, what is that, Polish?”), but I’m sure he liked getting a blowjob better.

I have to tell you today because we might not get another chance, she thinks frantically. Rebecca's allergy to honesty poisoned so many of her relationships, but it manifested at its worst with Greg, who almost seemed as though he wanted to be lied to. When she told him he wasn't second place, he wanted to believe it. Even today he'd admitted that he wanted to pretend she could love him best. As much as she wants to tell him that again, it's not healthy. It's never been healthy.

Part of the reason all this had to go was that the drama overstayed its welcome. By this point it felt like the whole thing was needlessly treading water.

She closes her eyes and swallows, choking back her doubts. None of this is real anyway, Greg had said. He's wrong, at least for right now, but he could be right. If she really screws this up, she can throw it all away. Maybe that's cowardly, but it's the only thing giving her courage. "The truth is, I've spent a truly embarrassing amount of today thinking about other guys."

"Okay, weird pillow talk," Greg mutters.

GREG IS SO FUNNY IN THIS DRAFT OH MY GOD. I’m sorry, Greg. But, again, you got that blowjob you’d been waiting for, so.

"You thanked me for being honest," Rebecca shoots back, leaning back just a bit so she can glare at him, "so I'm gonna keep being honest. When I woke up this morning, I was thinking about another guy. Right before you picked me up, I was thinking about two other guys. When we were at the taco festival, talking about stuff, sometimes I was thinking about other guys." She presses her lips together, exhales through her nose. "When you were kissing me in the kitchen, I was thinking about another guy."

I don’t know why I thought I had to give Rebecca’s inner monologue its due diligence, because it’s so completely unnecessary. At this point I’d been noodling away at this chapter for a month and a half (for whatever reason, the Homeland Security Advisory System section when Greg and Rebecca get back to her apartment was the very first thing in the document) and I was coming off of having mostly finalized Josh’s chapter, so I guess I thought complete reckless honesty was Rebecca’s natural evolution.

Greg has clearly had enough of whatever he thinks she's trying to do, because he reaches up and unhooks her arms from around his neck. "Okay, stop..."

"What I'm trying to say is," Rebecca says, wriggling free from his grasp and reversing it, grabbing hold of his wrists, "I'm not gonna, like, never be thinking about anyone else when I'm with you, because I don't have one of those Men In Black memory erasers, despite the fact that I could really use one sometimes, and also because I'm a person, who interacts with other people, and has feelings about other people." He's just staring at her, incredulous, and part of her wishes she hadn't done this, that she had just played along with him from the moment they stepped into the apartment, but how would that have changed anything apart from not having to waste half a year hating each other? "But that doesn't mean I'm not capable of putting you first. I know I can. I'm sorry I've done such a terrible job of proving it."

NOW WE’RE IN IT. This is the part I hated cutting, the part I tried really desperately to fit back in somehow. Rebecca loves other people so fiercely that she can’t ever detach herself from any of them, even in situations when she should, and her taking a constant interest in other people is completely incompatible with season 1 Greg’s inferiority complex and self-deprecation. (Also I’m definitely laughing at how I had Rebecca break off mid-monologue to question what the fuck her writer is even doing.)

There's a moment where Greg doesn't say anything, just continuing to stare at her like she's a complicated puzzle to solve. Rebecca forces herself to keep breathing, to keep calm despite the fluttering of her heart in her chest.

Then, just when she thinks she's about to pass out from anxiety, Greg says, "Neuralyzer."

Rebecca blinks. "What?"

He leans back a bit, just the hint of a smile on his face. "A neuralyzer. The Men In Black memory eraser. That's what it's called."

"Oh my god." She lets go of his wrists so she can swipe at his arm, which he skillfully dodges. "You are such a nerd."

"For knowing a fact about a classic film from our childhood? Please." She swings for him again, still annoyed, but this time he catches her hand, pulling her off-balance so she sways towards him. Then his other arm is around her waist, catching her, pulling her close. They fall into this kiss as naturally as breathing, his lips parting beneath hers as he begins to really smile now, and she finds herself smiling too, helpless.

This is way cuter and funnier than anything that actually made it into the chapter and I’M SAD ABOUT IT, STILL, TO THIS DAY.

When they break apart again, this time she's the one who doesn't want to move away. She tries to chase after him but he ducks his head, pressing a kiss to her jawline instead. "I want to believe you, Rebecca..." he breathes against her skin.

She must be broken, she thinks, because for some reason her body has decided that Greg's whispered admission of mistrust is what's gonna flip her switch from amorous to ravenous. Or maybe it's some weird time travel brain chemistry thing, because this is right about the time she would've been getting laid by the rando guacamole vegan. Whatever the reason, her eyes flutter closed and she tips her head back slightly, wordlessly encouraging him to keep kissing her; he takes the hint and continues, trailing down her neck to the hollow of her throat. "It's okay," she says, wrapping both arms around his neck so she can pull herself closer, pressing her body against his. "You don't have to yet. Just..."

Honestly I think at this point I STILL hadn’t decided if they were going to fuck at the end of this chapter, which is ABSURD. That indecision definitely contributed to the circling the drain feeling that this draft had. At least I got to mine out the “weird time travel brain chemistry” bit and double down with “the transitive property of getting fucked in another timeline” because I feel like I’d lived my whole life up to that point just to write that sentence.

She doesn't get to finish her sentence because he's moving her, pressing her down on the couch beneath him, sliding his hands up under her shirt. A quiet voice in Rebecca's brain points out that this is weird, going from her strange confessions directly into a hot and heavy makeout sesh, but the rest of her brain reminds her that at least this time she's hooking up with her actual date. Besides, her body is wholeheartedly consenting to this activity, and who is she to judge?

This inner monologue is still pretty funny, but this is the point where I stopped, stared at the draft, and muttered “what are you doing?” like Rebecca to the Hitler documentary. I had basically 1300 words that, while occasionally funny and insightful, barely propelled the narrative. I still fought for some of it for a while (similarly, I had a joke that I fought tooth and nail for in revisions for Nathaniel’s chapter), but in the end Greg’s chapter was better without all that weird random baggage.

#fanfic #deleted scene #all the solutions were trial and error #the moral of the story is #kill your darlings #but keep their corpses in cold storage #and wheel them out at any opportunity #and say look! look at my beautiful dead darlings!!#crazy ex girlfriend

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bonepranks-a · 5 years

Text

. OUT i’ve been wanting to write extensively about my experience playing undertale/intro to the fandom so... i’m gonna do that. it’s below the cut if u want, it’s very long -- I eventually want to condense it to perhaps share elsewhere, so consider this a first draft.

I don’t consider myself a video game fan. As a kid, my interests were grounded in more “outside” activities, and I was rarely seen without a book in hand. We couldn’t afford gaming consoles, and my parents were vehemently against anything that promoted violence (I wasn’t allowed to go to a laser tag birthday party. Yes, I’m serious.) And that’s what video games were to them, especially my mom. Violent games about shooting and killing people.

As a result, I was very out of the loop when it came to gaming culture. I would watch my friends play Mario Kart at their houses, I think I did Wii Bowling with my grandma once... but other than that? I didn’t know what was going on. I missed the Minecraft craze when I was in middle school. Even mindless iPhone games just didn’t interest me.

Of course, internet fandom did not escape me. As I got into high school, my interests shifted a lot. When I was more free to use the computer, I practically lived on tumblr (though didn’t we all?). And so even things that weren’t my specific interests were still on my radar. Undertale was..... perhaps the exception to that.

Do you remember those memes that were like “here’s me describing a fandom I only know from my dash”? If you had given me Undetale, I wouldn’t have been able to say anything. (Looking back on it, I’m pretty sure I thought Undertale and Homestuck were the same thing.) “Sans Undertale” was something I had heard before, but I didn’t know who or what that was. Hilarious, in retrospect.

And for context -- when Undertale came out, I was a senior. I wasn’t new to internet fandom, I was very aware. And yet, any knowledge of the game just managed to slip past me somehow. Beyond the fact that it existed, I couldn’t tell you anything. Still though, it seems like Undertale was just... always there. For a lot longer than it really was (again, maybe because I thought it was Homestuck?)

So, we fast forward three years. It’s I’m a junior in college, it’s November, and I’m RPing over on my Tyrone (Gravity Falls) blog. Saturn picks back up her Chara muse, and suddenly all these Undertale blogs start following me. I try to write with as many of them as I can, but I really don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t like writing with fandoms characters from fandoms I don’t know. (That’s actually why I got into Gravity Falls - a Ford followed me on my Star Trek blog, and the rest os history.) So anyway -- I absolutely fall in love with Chara as a character, and the little bits of the story I know through Saturn. I had heard mixed things about the game itself, even people who enjoyed the characters saying things they didn’t like about it. And eventually, on New Year’s Day, with nothing better to do, I decided to bite the bullet and just play.

Needless to say, I had a difficult time. With no video game experience, dodging attacks in the bullet-hell world of Undertale was nearly impossible. But, luckily for me, I was also.... extremely clueless and unobservant. I do recall finding the Faded Ribbon in the Ruins, but I never figured out how to equip items so I went through a majority of the game wearing only the bandage. And of course, that meant that I fled. From.... everything. Which is a fine way to play if you don’t later need money for healing items. I missed a lot of small things along the way too... it’s frankly embarrassing looking back on it. But because I never figured out how to spare, Toriel gave me quite a bit of trouble. And...... in the end, I killed her. I didn’t mean or want to, but I couldn’t figure out any other way. And I didn’t even feel that bad about it. She had creeped me out a bit, unsettled at how much she wanted to keep me with her.

Onto Snowdin. Everything was fine at first, and I decided I wasn’t going to kill anyone else -- just kept running away. Until I got to Dogamy and Dogaressa. I couldn’t avoid their attacks, and eventually I got my first game over. When my game reloaded, I was..... back in the ruins?

Surprise! I never figured out how Save points worked, either.

I somehow managed to save in the crystalized cheese room without realizing what I was doing. But all my progress after that, I lost. I took some time to really evaluate what I was doing. I had started to finally feel guilty for killing Toriel (I think I tried to call her once, and the “but nobody came” message fucked me up), and so I resolved to fix my mistakes and not kill her this time.

I went into her battle and decided I was only going to fight her until she had low HP, and then use a different tactic (had I figured out sparing by this point?? I think maybe.... maybe.) But once again, I failed. I killed her AGAIN. And for anyone who’s never experienced that.... she says something very unsettling.

So after that, I reached Flowey again. and uh --

Needless to say, I was very freaked out by this point. But I persisted. I moved through the rest of Snowdin with minimal trouble, and went on to Waterfall. Undyne.... was a whole other issue. Dodging her attacks was incredibly difficult. My tiny computer keyboard was just not suited to the rapid precise succession in which I had to press the arrows. So I died... and died.... and died. But, the more I played, the better I got. I looked up the fight mechanics, I knew exactly what I had to do to beat her. I actually made it to the Papyrus phone call, which of course is the end of the battle. But dumbass me, didn’t realize that she catches you again after, and that you can flee again right away. So I start fighting her again. I knew that attacking her instead of sparing makes her attacks easier, so that’s what I did. I actually managed to drain her HP! And then....... she killed me.

I knew I needed a new tactic. And, having been running from almost all battles.... I barely had any gold. I had one healing item, and that was it. So.... I did what I had previously vowed to never do. I sought out 2 monsters and killed them. Stocked with more gold and more HP, I returned to battle. And finally -- finally -- I escaped all the way to Hotland.

So, here’s the real kicker about my Undyne battle. By the time I decided to kill more monsters, I had already beaten the battle. If I hadn’t been so oblivious, I wouldn’t have needed to. And yes -- I already had Toriel’s death on my conscience, but deaths with the intent to kill just made me feel even worse. But god, I hated her. I was even willing to kill her. The night before I beat her, I’d been dealing with some personal issues relating to a person I really don’t like. I was determined to take out that anger by beating the shit out of Undyne. I stayed up late fighting her, and the battle made me so anxious that I made myself sick (throwing up and all). I couldn’t get her battle music out of my head. But... I got on the computer the next morning, and did it in one try. I’d finally won. But at what cost? Backtracking to her house revealed... this:

And for the first time, the consequences of my actions, even the smallest ones, started to set in. But it was too late to do anything about it now, so on I went. I killed monsters in Hotland because at this point, there was no point in doing anything else. I remember killing the Royal Guards... I never even learned about their love for each other. As I got to New Home and did the walk through the hallway, hearing the monsters tell the story, I started crying. Now, I’m not a crier normally. Very few things can elicit actual tears from me, but that did. And when I reached Sans in the judgement hall, and he revealed the meaning of EXP and LOVE, I understood. I realized what I had done, and I hated myself for getting this far like this. But again, too late.

I went on to Asgore, and.... I just couldn’t. His attacks were too strong, I was too weak, I had eaten the pie already, and I still didn’t have enough money to even buy Temmie Armor. I was stuck. His battle was too difficult, and I no longer had the Determination to keep going. I tried to make some strategies, I thought maybe taking some time would help. But a few days turned into a week, and a week turned into two weeks, and eventually I started wondering if I would ever pick it back up again. Finally, I decided that I wanted to right my wrongs. I reset, without finishing my neutral run, and played Pacifist, properly.

Pacifist runs are the same across the board, so I won’t give you too many details. Well, except the few things the game remembered from before...

Thanks Flowey.

And that was that. I laughed, I cried.... I knew a lot of the twists already, but there were so many wonderful surprises I didn’t know about. I could feel the love the game radiated -- and yes, I do love Undyne now more than almost any character from anything.

So, two months after playing, I’m reflecting on my choices, and what I’ve done since. I feel like I’ve dived into the 2015 fandom, but three years later. It’s odd, discovering such old content for the first time. I’ve introduced a few friends to the game, and though I tried to not backseat game, they asked for help and I readily gave it. But I told from from the get-go: don’t kill anything. My biggest fear was that they would kill monsters by accident, get to the end, but not like the game enough to go back and play the whole thing again. And I was convinced that the true ending is what makes the game so meaningful.

I was wrong.

As much as the ending got to me, I think I needed the experience of my first run -- with all my messy murders and shambling gameplay tactics -- to make the happy ending sink in. Which is what, I believe, was the intention of the game from the beginning. Toby knew that a lot of people would go into the game thinking they had to kill, and by the time they realized otherwise, it would be too late. The game is designed in such a way that playing it twice isn’t entirely tedious, with plenty of hidden gems you only get to find by making difference choices. Feeling your sins crawling on your back, realizing that you’ve been a villain, hearing Papyrus tell you that Undyne’s called you a murderer -- it makes you feel. It gives you an odd attachment to the characters that I don’t think you actually get if you go Pacifist the first time.

And no, I never finished my neutral run. I never was faced with the decision of whether or not to kill Asgore, already having blood (er, dust) on my hands. I never had to decide what to do about killing Flowey either. For an intentional Pacifist run, those questions were no-brainers. I never got to see what my phone call would be like (the Undyne ending is some scary shit from what I can tell). I sort of wish I had. But in the end, I think it says a lot that I literally couldn’t despite being so close.

My friends never got any of that experience. One of them went on to say something like “how could anyone kill people!!! They’re all so nice!! Imagine killing Toriel!! Anyone who does genocide is a terrible person!” And.... well, I know that it’s that kind of logic that gave the fandom such a bad reputation in the early days. And I just don’t agree. Not because I want to justify my actions, but because I really think that you don’t get the full impact of the story and the true ending unless you’ve gotten a “bad” ending first. But again, that’s just my personal experience.

I don’t know if there’s a real moral to this story. All of this was much more eloquent and had a purpose in my head, but writing it.... well, I dunno. I think if you ask most people, they’ll tell you that Undertale came into their lives at a crucial time. Or that it had some sort of big impact on their lives. For me, I find it hard to put into words exactly what it’s done for me. I just know it’s something really special. After all, a video game where you don’t have to kill anyone, where violence is never the answer, and mercy is the point of the story -- that’s the kind of game my mom would’ve let me play as a kid.

But hey, I’m, preaching to the choir here, aren’t I? We all wouldn’t be here right now if it hadn’t touched our lives in some way, and I’m not saying anything that hasn’t already been said by people over the years. I’m just -- very very grateful. For the friends, the memories, the experience. And Papyrus, just because.

#god this is so long but i didn't feel like editing it... i'm really emotional rehashing all this though #* you will determine the future of this world . OUT

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crossguild · 6 years

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was writing this for a birthday and missed the deadline so it’s not actually done, but i turned it up again recently and liked it a lot! it’s basically the ‘gencio dimensional switch AU’ turned up to 11

> GIBRALTAR 04:42

Lúcio doesn't register anything specifically wrong with the situation until the hand at his chest curls over his own, followed by the brush of soft lips over the back of his neck. The gesture is familiar enough, and the shape of the body behind him is about the right size, the right shape but-- Lúcio flips on his desklamp, rolling his eyes at a noise of protest, and slides out of bed.

Maybe he could stand to be more careful but whatever else is off, he doesn't feel particularly threatened by this turn of events and Lúcio startles at the flash of bright green hair disappearing under the edge of his blanket. "Genji?" he says, reaching for the covers and pulling them back to reveal an owlishly squinting someone, their eyes still trying to adjust to the sudden light.

Lúcio would recognize those eyes anywhere, that sleepy quirk of his lips. The inflection of his voice in the gentle "Lúcio?" he responds with. His face is unscarred, body skin-and-muscle instead of carbon fiber and artificial sinew. Not-Genji looks around, eyes narrowing at the sight of an unfamiliar room, the single twin-sized bunk Lúcio had scrambled out of. He should've been on his feet, weapons drawn, in a fraction of the time it takes him to sit up, but the wary tension in his shoulders is all Genji. "Where is this?"

"Gibraltar," Lúcio says, arms crossing over his chest.

Not-Genji's brows furrow, a skeptical expression on his face. "In Europe?" he asks, as if there's some other Gibraltar. "Not New York?"

"What would we be doing in New York?"

"We live there."

Lúcio's been to New York. It's nothing like Gibraltar, much less the Watchpoint. "How could you mistake the Watchpoint for New York?" he laughs, promptly deciding that there's no Genji he could ever stay suspicious of.

"I thought," Genji answers slowly, with a sheepish smile, "that as long as I was with you, it doesn't matter where I am."

"Flatterer," Lúcio manages to say, his face growing warm. He watches Genji stand, the movements fluid and easy, brimming with confidence. None of his Genji's cautious deliberation, the keen precision of his cyborg body.

"I should let you get back to sleep," Genji says, absently tying the drawstring of his sweatpants and tugging the hem of his shirt back into place.

Lúcio tries not to look, but his eyes are drawn to the casual roll of Not-Genji's shoulders, that uncertainty in his expression at the thought of being on his own in an entirely new timeline-- the stubbornness in the line of his jaw, an absolute refusal to admit any shred of fear. "It's fine," Lúcio says, absently adjusting his locs to sit more comfortably under their wrap, "you can stay. But we should find Winston, maybe he'll know how to fix this."

Not-Genji's hand rises to cover his mouth. His brows furrow. "I wouldn't want to impose so late at night."

"It can wait a few hours." Lúcio catches Genji's hand as he staggers back to bed, tugging him toward it before releasing the other man and burrowing under the covers. "Are you really Genji?" he asks, shuffling back to make ample room.

"I take it," Not-Genji comments with a wry twist of his lips, "I look very different here."

"Where you're from, we're also..."

"Yes." Hesitating at the edge of the bed, Not-Genji leans down to regard the thoughtful frown on Lúcio's face, and takes a step back. "What's wrong, Lúcio?"

"You have a brother?"

"Hanzo."

Lúcio lifts the corner of the blanket, shifting until his back is pressed to the wall. "Why're you in New York and not with the Shimadas?"

Not-Genji joins him under the covers, keeping an awkward distance. "When we were younger," he says slowly, "Hanzo couldn't bring himself to kill me when I refused to assume responsibility for the family business. We left Japan together."

"Oh." Lúcio tries to imagine that particular sequence of events and turns over, screwing his eyes shut as the stranger behind him settles in. "Things happened differently for my Genji," he says.

Not-Genji stills, pulling the covers up to his shoulders. "Let's save this for tomorrow."

> GIBRALTAR 05:40

Lúcio kicks his feet, staring at not-Genji's back as the other man roots around in the Watchpoint refrigerator. They had both dozed for about an hour before Genji hauled himself out of bed and wandered to the kitchen, cheerfully insisting that he couldn't sleep and just had to explore. Lúcio's sense of responsibility had overridden his inclination to let this stranger wander aimlessly around the Watchpoint and he'd rolled out of bed as well.

It had only taken a few minutes of conversation to acclimate to calling the newcomer Genji, so long as Lúcio kept in mind that his Genji was apparently off working in a restaurant in the New York City of some other dimension. They'd drifted to the kitchen, where Genji promptly decided that he'd make breakfast-- for lack of anything else to do with his time. Besides, he's apparently used to waking up at this hour.

"The walk-in," Genji says, back turned, "would have more space."

Lúcio hasn't ever seen Genji turn his back to a stranger, but if he comes from a world where he doesn't have to consider the risk of being attacked from behind, Lúcio's glad for it. "I think Winston was using this little one," he answers from his spot on the counter, "but after the recall there's been a lot more people on base and we haven't switched over yet."

Genji turns around with an armful of fruit-- bananas, little containers of blueberries and raspberries-- and a tub of yogurt. Lúcio grins at the sight, then catches Genji's eye, brows rising at the understated smirk on his face. That other Lúcio must have the same taste.

Shaking his head, Genji looks away as he brings his loot to the counter and sets it beside Lúcio. "I see," he says.

Up close, the similarities between this Genji and the one he knows are more prominent-- down to the furrow of his brows. "What's wrong?" Lúcio asks, leaning back to rest his weight on his hands and craning his head for a better look. "You alright?"

Before answering, Genji pries open the tub of yogurt and sniffs its contents, nodding briefly in satisfaction before he moves away for a bowl. "You are really just like my Lúcio," he says, turning back. "Even the little things."

Whatever Lúcio's about to say next fades as someone enters the kitchen, pushing open the door as she shuffles in. Pharah yawns and greets Lúcio, then turns to Genji, blinking in confusion. "Hi," she says, quickly looking back at Lúcio. "Who's this?"

"You don't recognize me?" Genji says, pressing a hand over his heart, his expression the picture of wounded shock. "Fareeha," he laments, "I thought we were friends."

"Genji?"

"The one and only." Genji grins, turning to Pharah when she steps in close and pokes at his chest. "Well," he says after a beat, "maybe not only."

Briefly squeezing his arm, Pharah paces around him, sizing him up from every angle. "Is this an upgrade?" She ruffles his hair, rolling a tuft between her fingers as he ducks away. "A hologram? Hard light? Dr. Ziegler didn't say anything about it."

Lúcio swings his feet, tossing Genji a small plastic bear full of honey when he motions for it. "Dimension stuff."

"Oh." A pause, then, "Oh," as she realizes that she's been poking at a functional stranger. "That makes sense," she says, sheepishly ducking out of Genji's way when he slips around her for a plastic container of cereal.

"And I wouldn't say upgrade," Lúcio laughs, sliding off the counter and grabbing a spoon. He sidles up to Genji and leans over his arm, watching as he layers the cereal, fruit and yogurt into two bowls, finally drizzling a generous amount of honey over each.

"Hey," Genji snaps back, playfully scooping up both bowls and holding them well out of Lúcio's reach. He offers one to Pharah, over Lúcio's head, and asks, "Parfait for breakfast?"

Laughing, Pharah accepts the bowl and backs away. In the middle of the kitchen, Lúcio wraps both arms around Genji's elbow, suspending his weight on the limb until Genji gives in and his breakfast comes within reach.

> GIBRALTAR 09:40

Unsurprisingly, Genji and Lena hit it off while Winston tinkers with a teleporter pad he'd managed to procure after a brief skirmish with Vishkar agents on assignment in New Mexico.

Lúcio quietly notes that this Genji is-- chattier than his cyborg version. Even a green-haired Genji can't match Tracer for conversation, but he manages to keep up, referencing memes at a pace that would have Hana in stitches if she were around to hear them. Lúcio's been texting her updates and photos, but she'd left for a training exercise in Taiwan a week ago and isn't due to return until the end of the month.

Hanging back, Lúcio's eyes intermittently return to a lone, awkward figure lurking in the corner of the room. He notices Genji looking as well, clearly trying to devise a plan to talk to his brother for a bit before he's sent home. Hanzo has somehow managed to dodge every attempt while maintaining his presence-- his anguished expression notwithstanding. Lúcio can almost imagine what's going through his head, and briefly considers that neither of these professional ninjas are any good at poker faces.

Still, he'd promised his own Genji that he wouldn't interfere with his and Hanzo's relationship, so he sidles up to Winston instead. What he knows of programming isn't nearly enough to parse the code on screen, and he regards the perplexed expression on Winston's face with a frown. "I," the scientist says, turning to regard Genji and hand him a small beacon, "am not sure that this will take you where you're meant to be, but if it doesn't, just activate this beacon and you'll come back here."

"I see. Thank you."

"Well," says Lúcio, clapping Genji on the bicep, "it was good meeting you. Really. Breakfast was great."

"Likewise," Genji replies as Winston activates the teleporter and a blue portal opens above it. "Thank you for having me."

Genji turns to Lena, extending his arms toward her, and he grins at the surprise on her face. Still, she immediately steps closer, squeezing him tightly around his ribs. "Wish we'd had some more time to talk," she says. "Would've loved to get some recipes from you."

"Oh?" he retorts, laughing. "You cook here? Without burning the kitchen down?"

Lena flushes, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "Well, Emily likes to!"

"Some things never change," Genji answers, nodding sagely. He ducks away from her next swipe, waving cheekily at the gathered crowd as he steps easily into the portal.

From the other side, this world's Genji stumbles out of the portal, still wearing an apron. He immediately backs away from the teleporter as he unties the string around his waist, and approaches Lúcio by Winston's console. Winston accepts the grateful pat on his shoulder, and Lúcio motions for the two of them to return to their room.

Hanzo makes to leave as well, half a second away from prompting the lab's doors to open when the teleporter hums again. Winston frowns, brows furrowing as he leans closer to the screen to read the string of errors his code had thrown. The actual content of the errors means nothing to Lúcio, but the screen of red exclamation points is never a good thing. He moves to the platform, prepared to manually deactivate the machine, but has to duck out of the way when two shapes appear in the opaque portal and materialize in a flash of blue light.

"Oh," says Winston, not sounding pleased at all.

Lúcio backpedals away from the two newcomers, one of them a leaner version of the Genji who'd just taken his leave-- younger too, upon closer inspection. Green hair and all. He seems to withdraw, radiating tension as he scans the room. The other gives Winston's lab a dispassionate once-over, brows raising in surprise at the faces present before he turns to Lúcio. Waiting a moment just to confirm that neither of them are about to be anti-mattered into nonexistence, Lúcio extends a hand for an older, mildly exasperated himself to shake. "Hi," he says.

"Hello hello," the other Lúcio replies, turning to check on his Genji when he releases Lúcio's hand. "Not gonna lie," he adds, the calm of his voice belying the deliberate caution in his movements, "I did not see this coming."

A second later, another flash of light on the other side of the teleporter. Chef Genji (as Lúcio's started to refer to him in his mind) reappears, this time with his own Lúcio in tow.

"I," chef Genji says, "didn't activate the beacon. It sent me to the right place."

"Oh," says cyborg Genji, regarding both new versions of himself.

Lúcio gestures at the age-swapped pair. "So how did these two get here?"

"It's possible," Winston groans, scanning his code, "that the streams got crossed, and when the program threw the error, it tried to recompile. Some of the values were retained and a few others were altered in the recursive loop. Uhm. Essentially, we pulled another two of you."

Lúcio mulls that over, pacing around the teleporter as the other Genjis and Lúcios introduce themselves to each other. "Hey," he says after a moment, ears still tuned to the whir of machinery, "did you stop the compilation?"

Winston lurches for his keyboard, but not before another flash of blue light, and yet another pair appearing in the room. He cancels the sequence, powers the teleporter down, and regards the last Lúcio and Genji. They look much like the New York versions, but Genji's dressed in a lean-cut grey suit with a light green, silk tie, his hair undyed. Lúcio stands apart from him, nearly a meter away-- completely unlike the closeness the other Lúcios allow.

Hanzo seems frozen in place, a deer in headlights as his expression slowly morphs to incredulity. He actually flees, the disappearance hard to note unless you were really paying attention, as Lúcio was.

"Alright," Winston says, trying to sound calm, "I know you're all wondering why you're here."

> GIBRALTAR 11:22

"I don't understand," the youngest Genji says, looking around. "Why are all the versions of me so different, but the Lúcios are all the same?" Then he pauses, turning a cheeky grin on his Lúcio. "Except for you. You are so old."

"Hey--"

"I think I can answer that." Genji-- the one who belongs in this dimension (who they've unanimously labeled Genji Prime)-- crosses his arms over his chest and leans back, hip braced against the counter. "Our lives have been almost entirely dictated by the choices that Hanzo made," he points out, "but the circumstances in which Lúcio could have met us... are very specific."

"My Hanzo could never have done that to me," chef Genji agrees, indicating the cyborg with a sympathetic tilt of his head. Prime had met that Hanzo briefly in his time in New York, almost at a loss as to how to respond to the indulgent big brother he'd known as a child, only ten years older and significantly less jaded. It'd been a bittersweet experience-- they were hardly rich and the work was a grind, but at least the crew at Sol seemed happy.

"Mine almost did," yakuza Genji confirms. He'd shrugged out of his blazer a while ago, and he rolls up his sleeve to show the scar on his arm, mottling his tattoo. "We reconciled," he says, "but it was a close call."

Young Genji frowns, looking nauseous, but he doesn't add anything. He does glance at his Lúcio, who's regarding Genji Prime with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Speaking of," the oldest Lúcio says, clapping young Genji on the shoulder, "you mind if I hit the archive room? I'm still trying to get a handle on this place."

"Of course." Prime Genji immediately flanks him, trailing Lúcio as he heads for the exit. Part of him wants to keep the newcomers from wandering off on their own; the rest of him wants to compare experiences. "I'll come with you."

True to form, Prime Lúcio claps his hands to draw everyone else's attention, instantly catching on to Genji's intent. "The rest of us can make lunch," he says, then punches restaurant Genji on the arm. "Chef here can take the lead on that."

That actually makes older Lúcio pause by the door, a wry twist to his lips as he seriously seems to reconsider a visit to Overwatch's records in favor of watching Genji cook. He glances at the cyborg, then shakes his head. "Man I'd hate to miss that," he says, giving the other versions of himself a meaningful look, "but I'll catch up."

"I'll save you something," young Genji pipes up, to a chorus of snickers (from Genjis) and affectionate chuckles (from Lúcios). He immediately flushes, jaw jutting forward as his Lúcio turns an indulgent grin on him. "I will," he insists, and scowls when the yakuza version of himself snorts.

"There's going to be enough for everyone," chef Genji cuts in, eyeing the smiles spreading across Lúcios' faces.

"Aw," Prime Lúcio says.

"We really appreciate that," manager Lúcio says.

"Yeah," the Lúcio who'd arrived with yakuza Genji adds, "that's really thoughtful."

"Let's go," cyborg Genji murmurs, his vents opening as his voice takes on a note of urgency; watching three Lúcios take pity on his younger self had immediately overwhelmed his capacity for secondhand embarrassment. "We might be done in time to help."

"Alright," older Lúcio says, his shoulders shaking with barely-suppressed laughter, "I'm with you."

> GIBRALTAR 11:50

Possibly out of respect for the weirdness of the situation, the rest of the team had elected to quash their curiosity and stay out of their way while chef Genji cooked lunch. He'd easily roped young Genji into cutting vegetables and the yakuza version to procure drinks-- playing to their strengths as he manually rolls out a length of pasta dough.

(Yakuza Genji had tried to escape the task by noting that he's never had to pair wine for a meal himself before, but he also roundly rejects two of his Lúcio's suggestions before wandering to the cabinet himself and selecting the best, oldest Chardonnay from it. A perfect complement to the seafood pasta chef Genji's in the midst of preparing.

"Hanzo stocked this cabinet," he'd said, laughing. "I don't think alcohol is usually allowed on UN bases, and these are his emergency picks, for when his favorite sake isn't available."

"He definitely had to tone it down in New York," chef Genji had replied, and they'd shared an exasperated, knowing look that Prime Lúcio's pretty sure his Genji's never worn.)

Manager Lúcio had dashed off to set up the cafeteria, announcing that if they were going to make a good first impression, they'd better blow the team away with a fantastic lunch. The other two hover by chef Genji's elbows, inundating him with everything from questions about technique and everyday life at home to offers to help. Both of them enthusiastically set to the tasks assigned to them-- various smaller chores to make the process smoother-- while Genji checks on sauces, his younger version's knifework, his pasta, and the seafood defrosting on the counter.

"Wow," Tracer comments as she bounds into the canteen, blinking to the buffet-style setup in the center, "look at that spread!"

Mccree and Pharah trail in after her, then Winston and Mei. Zarya and Zenyatta come last, the former having warmed up to Zenyatta after several missions together. They regularly schedule joint training sessions now, which is just as well for keeping the omnic occupied while Genji has his hands full with his alternate-timeline doubles.

"It's thanks to this guy," Prime Lúcio informs Lena, gesturing at chef Genji.

"Wow," she says, laughing as she grabs a plate and helps herself to a heap of pasta, "can we keep him?"

"He says they've really gotta get home," Lúcio sighs, "but I wish, right?"

Pharah approaches with a smile, her plate already loaded. "Lúcio," she mock-whispers, more than loud enough for everyone else to hear, "you lied to me! This one is definitely an upgrade."

"Hey!" Lúcio balks, shaking his head. Then, "I mean, I wouldn't complain if he wanted to stay, though."

"He could come back with me instead," another Lúcio-- the one who'd arrived with yakuza Genji-- volunteers.

Despite looking as if he's been ignoring the exchange, yakuza Genji looks over with a snappish, "Rude."

"Reyes isn't gonna be happy if we're no-shows for days," Lúcio demurs with a laugh, "but it might be alright if you send us back to right after we left? Time is weird."

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem." Here, it's Winston's turn to flash a cheeky smile, baring his fangs. "I think I've parsed the quantum signatures for each of your timelines," he explains, "it'll just take some testing to make sure you get there and stay there." Then he pauses, waiting to catch Lena's eye and prompt a little wave before he turns back to Lúcio. "The chronal differential is something I have plenty of experience with."

Chef Genji stands to the side, sleepily demolishing a croissant he'd found and toasted in lieu of eating anything he's actually cooked. He politely declines the plate his Lúcio tries to pass him, but accepts a sip of his wine. It takes nearly ten minutes of scanning the room for a familiar face before he speaks up, frowning. "Where's Hanzo?"

"He's usually up on the satellite array." Pharah points in its general direction. Regular aerial patrols around the Watchpoint are, after all, a great way to familiarize herself with the habits of her teammates. "Need a map?"

Genji nods, already gathering a few portions each of dishes his Hanzo, at least, likes. "I can find it," he says, hefting the container in his hands. "Thanks."

Lena sidles up to Prime Lúcio, gently bumping him on the shoulder with her own. "You think that's gonna help?"

"Honestly? I have no idea."

> GIBRALTAR 11:35

Lúcio leans back, scratching his chin as Genji flicks off the stream-- the cyborg's own recording of a Blackwatch assignment from nearly five years ago. It was a disconcerting experience, watching events unfold pretty much as he'd remembered them, but missing key elements (namely, himself). "I'm really not in here at all, huh," Lúcio murmurs.

"There is a dossier on my Lúcio," Genji volunteers, "but the timeline is different."

Leaning forward, Lúcio rests his elbows on his knees and drags his hands down his face. "Never thought I'd be back here again," he sighs, "but no one here knows me the way I know them. That's the worst part."

Genji stays still, watching. He's quiet-- much more like Lúcio himself than the gregarious, upbeat young Genji he knows. "I'm sorry," Genji says at last, sounding deeply sympathetic.

"For what?" Lúcio dismisses the idea with a forced, uneasy laugh. "It's not on you."

After a moment of silence, Genji decides not to allow that comment to slide. "I know," he says, gentle but firm. "But I also know what my time in Blackwatch meant to me, and I know it would be painful to have it all erased."

"Honestly, it wasn't even that good. Lot of stuff going on that never should've happened."

"But it shaped the person you are, so it's not so easily forgotten."

Lúcio bares his teeth. "Least someone here understands."

Genji looks between Lúcio and the backs of his hands, eyeing the panels that slide open to arm his shuriken. "My younger self will probably not understand you for many years," he tells him, amused against his better judgment. "Why you decided to help him, and why you decided to trust him."

"Does he have to?" Lúcio raises his brows, not expecting Genji's startled look, but not pretending, either, that he doesn't understand how and why the other man had ended up a cyborg. That familiar, ambitious shine in his eyes is no different from the Lúcio of this timeline, but it's tempered with age and experience, a calm focus. "No one should have to go through that."

Genji says nothing, not ignoring the words but slowly digesting them.

When the quiet drags on for just a beat too long, Lúcio taps his elbow. "What's on your mind, old Genji?"

"It's strange," Genji answers slowly, "to think of the person my Lúcio could be in ten years."

"I remember being his age," Lúcio says, laughing. "It's all about the music, and Brazil, and the music in Brazil right now."

"Oh," Genji answers, affection apparent in his voice, "I know."

#gencio #fic: ow

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allofbeercom · 5 years

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5 Insane Subcultures That Might Become The Next Hipster

Guys, we’ve gone and done it: We broke hipsters. We’ve made fun of their $200 “vintage” shirts and fixies and craft-beer-spewing proboscises for so long that the very term has malfunctioned. “Hipster” is now a meaningless go-to insult for anyone who looks different from you, which is everyone. The hipster is gone. Beards can finally be un-ironic again.

However, as much as it pains me to say this, the death of the hipster is a problem. There must always be a dominant subculture — the one people love to hate until it occupies so much mind space that it actually hits the mainstream. A few of them actually die; strong ones such as punk come cackling back in the shadows before long, while others such as hippies gain public semi-acceptance and go on doing their thing. Even fucking emos have Hot Topic to remember them by. But, not hipsters — hipsters are going out like an IPA-tainted diarrhea fart. The mark they leave is distinct, but easily washable. They’ve been an unsustainable fad — the Kris Kross jeans of subcultures. So, now that they’re on the out, there’s a power vacuum, and attempts to fill it with more of the same (see “lumbersexuals” and “yuccies“) don’t seem to be gaining too much traction.

The balance of the universe is at stake. What we need is the next hipster: a fresh new stereotype to joke about/lust after (depending on your alignment) for the next few years. Seeing as I’m currently locked in the writing barrel, and the other columnists refuse to let me out until I find one, here goes:

#5. Raggare

I’ve never been a greaser myself because, frankly, I can only handle so much Buddy Holly, but I have a long-standing affinity toward 1950s aesthetics. That’s why it’s always pissed me off a little that, apart from a few fashion revivals and Stray Cats in the 1980s, the culture has been firmly sidelined from the mainstream for decades. Still, just because it’s not front and center doesn’t mean that it’s not evolving. In Sweden, strange things are happening:

It’s like Mad Max had a drinking competition with Grease, and everyone lost.

Raggare have been around since the 1950s, but they truly kicked into gear during the 1970s oil crisis: When America found it didn’t have money to drive its giant-ass cars, many Swedes said, “Fuck yes, American stuff for cheap,” and bought themselves a bunch of Buicks, Dodges, and suchlike in prime condition. The rock ‘n’ roll attitude arrived with the cars, and they’ve never stopped since. These days, raggare are a culture old enough to have subcultures of its own: the relatively mellow old-timers who tinker with their machines and arrange garage parties and drives, and the younger generation, who are feistier and, if the pictures are any indication, possess a very different attitude about their cars’ appearance.

Feber “I’m telling you, man, thatched car roofs are the next big thing.”

Hipster Pros:

Raggare have a look. They have a very specific thing that they do. Most importantly, they’re not just a phase you grow out of. Guys from the 1970s are still in the scene and have no intention of stopping. These guys could have actual lasting power.

Hipster Cons:

They’re seasonal. The raggare lifestyle is all about old cars, suede shoes, and painstakingly pomade-sculptured hair, all of which go right out of the window when mother nature decides to make your region eat a faceful of winter. For the colder portion of the year, many raggare tend to go around in modern cars and season-appropriate clothes and generally give more of an upstanding citizen vibe. Today’s Twitter-filled world is a hectic ol’ thing, and a subculture that goes into hibernation for a few months every year might not be able to survive even a single media cycle.

I am, of course, proposing that they should mod their cars into all-weather, all-terrain attack vehicles, M.A.S.K. style.

#4. Seapunk

Seapunk is a logical successor to the dominant subculture throne, in that it ticks all the right boxes: They have their own weird, house/hip-hop music, a distinct identity, and a look that sets them apart from everyone else. Also important: Said look is annoying as hell.

Aquaman’s emo years were no one’s proudest moment.

Even seapunk’s origin story is organic, reflects our times, and (most importantly) is easily stupid enough to warrant a torrent of jokes. Someone saw a dream about a leather jacket with barnacles instead of studs and tweeted it, shit went viral — and boom! Online joke becomes a meme, and meme becomes a subculture, complete with aesthetics that look like a tornado picked up the entire Burning Man festival and dropped it in the cartoon ocean part of Oz.

Hipster Pros:

They’re a fucking meme come to life! Plus, no one seems to be certain about whether this is an elaborate joke or an actual thing that exists. Suck on those irony levels, veterans of the hipster scene.

My money would be on the joke, but I think I actually have a shirt like that somewhere.

Hipster Cons:

It might be too late. We live in a time where most cool new things are almost immediately appropriated by the mainstream. So, barely a year into its short life, pop stars from Rihanna to Azealia Banks were already flirting with the seapunk aesthetic, stripping it of what little underground value it had. By most accounts, the movement largely fizzled out of existence by the end of 2012, meaning that the Mayan people were right about at least one small, sad apocalypse.

Even if there is a strong seapunk scene bubbling under the streets and just waiting to explode upon us in all its aquamarine glory, there’s the fact that apart from the 0.01 percent of seapunks with the looks, time, money, and eye for visuals to regularly look like a naval-themed wedding cake, pretty much every aficionado of the movement would end up looking as out of place as the left shark in Katy Perry’s Superbowl performance.

FUCK YEAH LEFT SHARK, YOU SHOW THEM!

This would, of course, be totally awesome and thus severely undermine the subculture’s ability to function as a hate sink.

#3. Gopniki

Weird Russia

There are plenty of working class cultures around the world that wear track suits and designer gear — British chavs, Polish dresy, Australian bogans, and gangsta rappers, for instance. However, those are not what we’re going to talk about today. Today, we’re all about the gopniki. They’re the Russian variation of the ghetto gangster theme and therefore, by default, 125 percent rougher around the edges and in possession of precisely none of all the fucks. If you see a weird YouTube clip about a 20-something in a cheap track suit doing an activity that makes you instantly nod and think: “Yep, Russia,” chances are it’s one of these guys.

Case in point.

Hipster Pros:

Every once in a while, society needs its dominant subculture to be more than just a remora sticking to pop culture’s underbelly. Sometimes, we need it to give us a good, hard slap on the balls and make us look in the mirror. It’s been a while since we had one of those, and none of the current ones fit the old “my son/daughter is not going to go out with one of those people” bill better than the gopniki.

Also, I’m completely on board with a rerun of the Slav squat meme.

Hipster Cons:

Gopniki are not known for their open-mindedness, but extremely so for their tendency to drunkenly fight anything that moves. Unless you’re a terrible person, they’re not going to agree with your political views too much and, on occasion, might be inclined to do their disagreeing with the soles of their Adidas instead of angry blogging.

So, while a gopnik might be a very good target for a casual “ugh, can you believe what I saw one of those fucking gopniki do today at Starbucks?” said offensive activity might involve a lot less pretentious screenplay writing with an actual typewriter and a lot more high-impact slurs and poor impulse control.

Also, I really, really don’t want that goddamned slicked-forward inverted mullet hairstyle half of them seem to sport to catch on. I still haven’t recovered from topknots.

Actually, yeah, let’s pass these fucking guys. Besides, I have a much better candidate just around the corner …

#2. Haul People

Back in the murky depths of 2011, Cracked’s resident trend expert Daniel O’Brien became baffled by a phenomenon known as haul videos. They’re seemingly random YouTube clips where girls fawned over their shopping “hauls” on-camera and, for some inexplicable reason, raked in five- to six-figure views.

I remember this well. Back then, it seemed like just another weird kink of the Internet, a video version of a meme. Surely, people have long since grown bored of watching a bunch of creepy kids wave their purchases at the camera and wandered away to watch more cat videos or someth-

… ing.

6.7 million views? Actual production values? What the shit?

Sure, they’re still not particularly widely known, but they’ve been moving and shaking in the marginal like no one’s business. The people who make haul videos used to be called haul girls, but now that guys are in on the action, too, I don’t think the community really has a name yet — haulers? Haulsters? I’m just going to go ahead and call them “haul people” and hope it’ll stick until the Mole Man mishears the name and attempts to enslave them all. Many of the more successful ones have PR agents and deals with fashion and cosmetic companies. They have been featured on Good Morning America. They have a distinct identity, albeit that of vapid fucks yammering about consumer products to unseen audiences. There are even people who make haul parodies. If that level of sadness doesn’t ruin your day, I don’t know what will.

Hipster Pros:

Easier to hate than a shit-smeared street performer singing Nickelback, yet inexplicably popular enough to have some semblance of legitimacy. Those are the main definitions of, well, every fucking successful subculture in history, and haul people pass them with flying flags.

Flags that they shape out of giant shopping bags.

Hipster Cons:

They’re not ready just yet.

Although they have vast potential as a highly visible subculture that everyone will do their level best to forget in five years’ time, haul people currently lack direction. They’re basically low-key corporate shills, buying/getting junk and peddling it for us. However, the extreme popularity of fringe haul genres such as unboxing videos shows promise for something much, much grander and more stupid. Give it a year or two; I have hope that the community will find certain defining themes and Flanderize itself into something we can truly be baffled by on an ironic-mustache level.

#1. These Fucking Guys

For the love of G’huul the Great Eater, keep the sound on.

Hipster Pros:

All of them.

Hipster Cons:

None. We’re done here. I don’t care who these people really are. I don’t care what they’re supposed to be doing. All I know is that they look like an explosion at the My Little Pony factory’s neon paint subsidiary, and someone edited the Thomas The Tank Engine theme to sync with their goofy-looking space outfit flailing. That is the level of bafflement we need right now, friends, and I now want these guys to explode all over our pop culture fucking yesterday — preferably, while contractually obligated to carry a boom box that blasts out the Thomas theme 24/7.

Pauli Poisuo is a Cracked weekly columnist and freelance editor. Here he is on Facebook and Twitter.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/5-insane-subcultures-that-might-become-the-next-hipster/

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