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nokomiss · 4 years

Note

How about: "I won't forget this." *Rolling their eyes* "Thats's the idea y'know." With Jaysteph?

The tragedy happened -- poetically, really -- in Crime Alley.

Two mid-class goons currently serving Two-Face were barreling down the middle of the street in a stolen armored truck, sideswiping anyone who didn’t swerve out of the way quick enough. Steph didn’t even know what the special occasion was -- it was both an odd month and an odd day, so maybe it was just Two-Face causing what chaos he could -- and Steph was the closest on patrol. She swung in, regretting her choice to leave the Compact behind, and tried her best to catch up with the armored truck.

“Any help?” she called over the comms. “O, can you do something about the traffic, maybe? These guys are not following the rules of the road.”

“Already there,” Babs said. “Red Hood is incoming.”

Steph managed to hook a line onto the truck just as Red Hood appeared on a really nice bike. Nice enough she noticed even when flying through the air aiming her body at a speeding truck.

She landed on top of the truck with more grace than she’d been hoping for, given her iffy relationship with gravity in general, and began to make her way towards the cab of the truck. “Hood, can you distract them?”

“On it,” Jason replied, and a second later the armored truck swerved wildly as a chain wrapped around one of its wheels. Steph kept her grip, and made her way unnoticed to the roof above the driver. She knew the glass was bulletproof, but that didn’t so much matter if the driver couldn’t see through it. She anchored herself to the top of the truck, then splattered two gooperangs on the windshield.

Instant chaos. The driver, just correcting from Jason’s attack on his wheels, lost total control of the truck as his vision was completely obscured. Steph gripped tightly to the magnetic gripper she’d anchored down. Her cape whipped around her as she tried to figure out where Jason and his bike were -- she definitely needed to bail soon, as the truck was aimed right for the concrete pillars supporting an overpass.

“Behind you,” Jason said through the comm, clearly seeing her dilemma, and Steph let go of her anchor as she felt the truck lurch over a curb.

She managed to somersault off the back of the truck like she did it every day, and caught onto Jason’s handlebars in a move she couldn’t replicate if she tried, but was so grateful that she pulled off. A half-turn and a twist and she was landing roughly in Jason’s arms like she’d planned it all out, and a second later the armored truck smashed into the pillar, front end crumpling like an accordion.

Jason pulled the bike to a stop, and Steph hopped out of his arms before offering him a high five. He grinned at the destruction they’d caused and high fived her back before they went to check on the goons, who were both groggy and easy to subdue. There were two dollar bills floating comically around them, like it was a cartoon, and Steph understood why Two Face had staged this particular robbery.

“Huh,” Jason said, catching one of the bills mid-air. “Who knew there were this many in circulation?”

“And in a city known for Two-Face’s crimes, even,” Steph said. “Like. What was the take, a couple hundred bucks?”

Jason pocketed the bill he’d caught, and Steph rolled her eyes at him. “What?” he said. “Batman takes trophies all the time.”

Steph could hardly argue that point, having spent more than her fair share of time climbing the giant dinosaur. “Thanks for the assist, this went way smoother than--”

She was interrupted mid-sentence by an ominous creaking noise overhead. She looked up, saw the cracks in the concrete, and grabbed onto Jason’s sleeve. “Run!”

They sprinted across the road, and watched in mutual horror as a broken slab of concrete, loosened by the crash, fell directly onto Jason’s motorcycle.

“Oh no,” Steph said quietly.

“Oh shit,” Jason said, and it was not the horror-struck tone of someone who had lost a prized possession. It was the horror-struck tone of someone who had fucked up majorly.

Steph looked at him. Jason pointed at the crushed metal that had formerly been a red motorcycle with a shaking hand. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating.”

“Gotham’s infrastructure really never recovered from No Man’s Land,” Steph said, patting him on the arm. “I mean, that was a really nice bike, but at least we caught the bad guys?”

“It was a really nice bike,” Jason said. “It also wasn’t my bike.”

“Yikes,” Steph said. She cautiously moved closer, but there were no more creaking sounds overhead. The bike was thoroughly crushed, though. She poked at a bent wheel with the toe of her boot. “Bruce’s?”

Jason nodded. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“I mean, it’s not like he can’t afford another one?” Steph offered.

“There aren’t any more,” Jason said. “And he fucking loves that bike.”

“How can there not be any more? It’s not like donut holes at the bakery,” Steph said. “It’s a motorcycle.” A Ducati, granted, and a definite loss, but… Jason was not taking this well. She wondered if he needed a hug.

“There were less than eight in the world. Seven now, I guess,” Jason said. He began picking pieces of concrete off the bike’s remains. “Come on, you have to help me hide the body.”

“Hide the -- you’re shitting me,” Steph said. “You love breaking Bruce’s stuff. Last month you took a picture of yourself next to the Batmobile you wrecked and made it the Batcomputer wallpaper.”

“Well, this is different,” Jason said. “Come on. I saved your ass, now you get to save mine.”

Steph couldn’t really argue with that, given that Jason had kindly kept her from splattering on the pavement. She began to move concrete chunks, and the more of the bike they unearthed, the worse it looked. Oil and gasoline smeared the pavement like blood, and the bike itself was mangled beyond recognition. The bright red paint was coated with concrete dust, turning it dull brown.

There was absolutely no way they were wheeling it away from the scene, and Steph could hear police sirens echoing down the street. They cleared off the rest of the concrete as Steph remotely called the Compact. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Jason doing the same. “We can drag it over behind that pillar?” she suggested, pointing to one that didn’t have an armored truck smashed into it.

It was less than fifteen feet away, but it took all their combined effort to get the bike’s remains behind the pillar before the cops came. Steph hurried out, grabbing a broken tail light off the pavement and standing casually in front of her captured goons as the police cars careened around the corner.

The scene looked suspicious as hell, but the actual presence of a Bat at the crime scene -- even if it was Batgirl -- had the officers off-balanced enough that no one actually questioned the pile of rubble. Steph told them all the intel she had on Two-Face’s crime (not much, but she added enough details that it took a few minutes) while watching the Compact arrive out of the corner of her eye, and Jason managing to strap the Ducati’s remains to it without any officers actually noticing.

It was actually pretty hilarious, watching him struggle to shove mangled motorcycle parts into a net intended for a cartoonish capture of criminals on top of the Compact while trying to blend in with the night. He mostly failed, but luckily for him, Steph was a pretty great distraction.

“And in conclusion, what the heck, Gotham National Bank, what were you thinking? Gotta run!” she announced as soon as she saw Jason finish with the Ducati and climb into the Compact, and made a big show of firing her grappling gun and swooping off into the night like a proper vigilante.

If it hadn’t been for the one notable casualty, Steph would be having an absolutely stellar night.

She met up with him a few blocks over and climbed in the Compact, letting him continue to drive, as she had no earthly idea where one disposed of the body of a motorcycle.

Though, as he pulled up to an abandoned part of the harbor, she probably should have guessed.

They climbed out of the Compact and stood there, breeze ruffling their hair and the moonlight shining on the water. It should be a peaceful moment, but the smell of motor oil dripping from the Ducati ruined it.

“Tell me why this bike’s different?” Steph was so incredibly curious. Jason was not one to hide something to spare Bruce’s feelings.

Jason had his hands shoved in his pockets. They were both fully in uniform, though Jason was down to a domino mask. For some reason, Steph thought it was easier to share personal things while in uniform; it somehow seemed divorced from real life. Though for Jason the uniform seemed to be real life. He stared out at the water for a few more minutes, then finally said, “I had a picture of that bike on my wall when I was a kid. Like, before things really went to shit, I ripped a picture out of a magazine at the fuckin’ library, and snuck it home in my backpack. I didn’t know it was some rare thing, I just liked the color.”

“You do like your reds,” Steph said, for lack of anything better.

His mouth quirked up. “You sure you wanna go there, Purple Rain?”

She bumped her shoulder up against his-- well, against his arm, but the thought was there. “So you had a picture of a motorcycle on your wall. Very weird. Almost unseemly, for a boy to have an illicit picture of a motorcycle--”

“Wow, you just don’t stop ever, do you,” Jason said. His mouth quirked up, and then he glanced back at the bike. “Anyway. After Bruce took me in, I kept pestering him about getting me one, even though they were stupid expensive and impossible to find, because of there being only a handful in existence.”

“And obviously he got it for you,” Steph said, rolling her eyes, because Bruce could be called a lot of things, but stingy wasn’t one of them.

Jason shook his head. “Nope. I mean -- I guess, but not as a present. I guess he bought it symbolically for my sweet sixteen. Probably drove it to my grave, the melodramatic bastard.”

Steph opened her mouth and shut it again a few times, and then turned to stare again at the wreckage of the bike. “I mean-- wow. So he didn’t think to give it to you once, you know, you rejoined the world of the living?”

“I don’t know if you remember but things weren’t awesome between us then,” Jason said, a little testily.

“I mean, if you want to play that game, I don’t, actually, given that I was having my own post-death world travels at that time,” Steph replied in exactly the same tone.

Jason’s mouth tightened, then he let out a sharp bark of laughter. “I kind of forgot about that.”

“Well, I don’t bring it up in every conversation I have, so….” Steph nobly managed to not stick her tongue out at him.

“You’re a saint. And no, he did not give it to me once I came back,” Jason said, bringing the conversation back to the salient point. “I found it in the garage covered in a freaking tarp, and sometimes I borrow it.”

“Without permission, I assume.”

Jason nodded. “He’s never shown any indication that he noticed. Which, you know, for Bruce…”

“Is a miracle in and of itself.” Steph nodded back at him. “So basically -- Bruce bought you your dream bike when you were dead and you’re cranky because he didn’t actually give it to you, so you keep stealing it hoping he’ll notice.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds stupid,” Jason said.

Steph stared at him, hoping he’d get the point.

“It isn’t stupid,” he insisted.

“You’re all stupid,” Steph said. “So now you want to throw it in the harbor instead of just… letting Bruce know that you have been taking it? Nevermind that obviously he knows you’ve been taking it. I mean. Do you fill it up with gas every time? I bet not, and I bet it’s always full when you pick it back up.”

She absolutely was not speaking from experience with her own personal favorites of Bruce’s ridiculously awesome car collection.

“I--” Jason began, but then shrugged. “Shit.”

Steph surveyed the harbor again, then looked back at the wreckage. “You know, this is one way to deal with this, but… what if there’s a better way.”

Jason drummed his fingers on his thigh, clearly weighing her earlier words, then said, “I’m listening.”

Four hours later, they stood side by side again, this time in the Cave.

“Okay,” Jason said slowly. “Okay, I’ll say it. You are an evil genius and I adore you.”

Steph fluffled her hair cheerfully. “Glad to hear it.”

“This is-- I mean, I thought I was the best at getting under Bruce’s skin, but this is going to make him go ballistic.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “The point is not to make Bruce go ballistic. That’s just a happy little bonus.”

They were standing in front of Jason’s memorial case, which until very recently had held only his Robin uniform.

Steph had to say, the a good soldier plaque now felt far less serious, given that it was now describing the mangled remains of a motorcycle that had died in the line of duty. She even found a sharpie and added to the plaque, in the most cutesy handwriting she could manage so that it now read JASON TODD’s dream bike.

“It’s perfect,” Jason breathed. Steph had been unsure about what to do with the uniform that had been inside, but Jason had lovingly pulled it over the handlebars until the Ducati had become, in death, an honorary Robin. “I won’t forget this.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “That’s the whole idea, y’know. It’s a memorial. For memory-keeping.”

But then she reached over and took Jason’s hand in hers, tangling their fingers together and squeezing. “Sorry your bike died while you were helping me.”

Logically, Gotham’s poor infrastructure wasn’t her fault, but if she hadn’t needed an assist, Jason would still have his beloved bike. Well. Kind of. Would still be regularly stealing his beloved bike from his emotionally inept father, because they were both stubborn idiots.

Jason kept holding her hand, leaning in until their sides were touching. “At least it went in a blaze of glory.”

“And now it’s gonna live on forever in our hearts,” Steph said. She pulled up their joined hands and pressed a kiss onto Jason’s knuckle, ignoring the way he startled at the soft touch and focusing on the little smile he gave her. “Wanna hide in the dinosaur and watch Bruce’s reaction when he notices?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

#my fic #batfam #stephanie brown #jason todd #jaysteph #dcu fic #even robins #this is totally unedited sorry for mistakes #meowlerex

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kob131 · 3 years

Text

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCnynO7H3Do

Vexed has however decided to speak on Ironwood. ... Guess how that goes.

“Ironwood is such a cartoon villain! Look at how he is framed!”

This would mean a little more than jackshit to me if this was real or at least not coming a RWBY watcher since the latter would be all about manipulative editing and the later I might believe wouldn’t need to be handheld through a basic scene but not only is Ironwood a fictional character in a fictional show where you’re trying to invoke emotions in the audience: The RWBY fandom can’t analyze a scene worth shit unless someone walks on screen and literally explains everything. And Vexed himself is such a manipulatve liar that he’s even LESS trustworthy.

Not to mention I’ve seen footage of Hitler’s speeches and the responses- you can go a few levels deeper in reality itself. Not really that cartoonish to me.

“They thought they made him a villain at the end of Volume 7 but failed miserably!”

A. Judging from the reactions and how Ironwood’s defenders were half made up of people who’d side with anything they think is the opposite of what the writers’ intended- I’d say they did the job perfectly fine.

And B. This is exactly what I was talking about. The fact that someone didn’t roll out a fucking flowchart of his character you immediately started interpreting Ironwood’s downfall as a failure to make him a villain. You literally took basic ambiguity necessary for good writing and twisted it to make things look bad.

You’re the fucking reason why RWBY is blunter than a stoner’s cigarette.

“They ACCIDENTALLY made him compelling!”

... You do know the commentary you are quoting doesn’t say ‘we tried to make Ironwood not compelling’ in any form right? All they’re saying is ‘we wanted to make Ironwood’s descent into villainy understandable and subtle.’ In fact, the writer’s job is suppose to be about making the villain compelling so they likely INTENDED on it.

... You mixed up ‘compelling’ and ‘sympathetic’ didn’t you? That either means you don’t know what those words mean or you have an incredibly narrow view of villains.

Also I gotta love that ‘Oh, he was only making hard choices and yet he’s a VILLAIN?!’. Not only does it ignore that villains are made by their choices, bad things can happen due to good choices and that it’d be thematic SUICIDE to portray Ironwood as in the right while kicking the more moral Ozpin for his actions-

It also showcases you’re just a salty Ironwood fanboy. You didn’t consider how he got here as a character or what makes sense for what he represents- You got pissed your headcanons of a character was contradicted so you pitch a fit. I know this because you pulled this shit with WEISS before.

“Isn’t it strange that Salem was used to set up Ironwood’s ultimatium?”

No. Ironwood’s flaws as a character have always been centered around his reaction to Salem’s existence. He acts unilaterially when he believes Salem is close by, his paranoia flares up when Salem is concerned, his stubbornness is the result of glorifying Salem as this nigh unstoppable evil that must be stopped at any cost.

Of course he’s at his lowest when Salem is there: this once in the background ultimate evil is now making public moves, everything is stacked against him and he sees other people’s ways as having failed. Why wouldn’t he dig in his heels when faced with such a situation considering his character?

“I’ll be doing a video on Salem at the end of this Volume-”

And I know it’ll be as much of a failure as all the others. You could literally release a video of you saying ‘RWBY bad’ for ten minutes sand get the same reaction.

“Let’s focus on James, who was the best character in the show-”

Subjective and shows your bias AGAIN.

“Who was the focal point of Volume 7-”

A. That’s actually more him and Ruby but you aren’t the type to pay attention.

And B. You are now acknowledging the existence of his actions in Volume 7. You cannot try to say his descent wasn’t explored unless it’s admission you didn’t understand Volume 7.

“The man who hasn’t done much of anything in the first half of this Volume-”

That is such bullshit I don’t even know where to start?

He caused the events of Volume 8 to play out. He contacted Penny, setting up her own doubts about her decision, he used Watts to make the virus that setup the climax, he denies the heroes access to resources thus preventing them from attacking Salem, he puts them on edge from his orders to arrest preventing the heroes from openly acting-

He’s pulling as much weight as RUBY here and I’m honestly insulted.

“The man who is now just a crazy cartoon villain.”

You know, this reminds me of a comment I saw once. It was about Persona 5′s villains and how everyone said they were cartoon villains too. ... I then proceeded to point out how each one was actually pretty realistic when you actually look at reality.

Kamoshida? Replace ‘Gym school teacher’ to ‘Rich man’ and you have Jeffry Epstein. (Who didn’t commit suicide)

Madrame? *jabs at RT*

Okumura? He was based on real life Japanese business tycoons and their actions.

Shido? Literally every US politician.

Same applies here, but even worse. Ironwood descended from a high perch due to very serious circumstances, doing all this in a misguided attempt to protect people. A certain senile President did similarly shady shit...to protect himself.

You can’t call ‘cartoon villain’ to a man more understandable than REAL PEOPLE.

“Make a decision- Mantle dies or Mantle dies! HOW STUPID!”

Completely ignoring how they believe they can still save Mantle...and Ironwood is using that to try and force their hand.

Literally anyone who tries to be manipulative does that. And again, I understand him better than...well, everyone who HAS tried that.

“I would have respected him more if he just blew up Mantle-”

So kill the tone of the show, the main conflict of the past two Volumes AND his characterization as a pragmatist?

Someone check Vexed’s foot and make sure it’s still there: he’s shot it so many times now.

“Explain to me why he won’t just let Mantle evacuate?”

He’s incredibly stubborn, mentally scarred and physiologically compromised? AKA his CHARACTER?

“IRONWOOD ISN’T THINKING! RWBY BAD!”

It’s the fucking INTENT to show he isn’t thinking. All you’re doing is proving the writers’ competence at this point.

“Ruby should have just said Penny was in Mantle-”

To the guy whose immensely unstable at this point, saying ‘Hey, my only bargaining chip is in that place you don’t care about where you can possibly get the chip by killing Penny and finding who has the Maiden powers now!’?

Sounds like you’re the one missing more than half a brain.

“PLAN FAILED!”

Yes, your plan did fail because My IQ isn’t in the negatives.

“I love how the writers thinking that Ironwood acknowledging he’s slow-”

... You took a look at this scene, with him looking like that, with that music, with the context of his character, with the question of his character, with Winter’s look at him...

And came to THAT conclusion?

... Yeah we’re done here. I’m not giving any more effort. I’ve clearly given a Herculean amount of it compared to Vexed.

I’ll end this with a quote from one of my favorite Bad Religion songs:

Life is the crummiest book I ever read There isn't a hook, just a lot of cheap shots Pictures to shock and characters an amateur

Would never dream up

Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction

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btswishes · 3 years

Text

What we were and what we are

One Shot/ Random

A/N: Take it as an emotional dump. I will put a keep readying line since I don’t think anyone would want to read this. XD Have fun anyways if you wish to stay friend. Who knows maybe it could be a Yoongi x Reader , friends to lovers story, idk.

Word count: 2,535

Playlist recommended for this : Jin-Epiphany Big Bang- Loser Big Bang- Blue at the end you can try BTS- We Are Bulletproof The Eternal

Warnings: dark, anxiety, talk of trauma , be yourself please

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The sky was covered with soft cotton candy like clouds, tinted in the colors of the ending day. Oranges, reds, blues, yellows, you name it it was there. The wind was warm and but a whispering tender sensation over your exposed skin. The grass pillowing your body under the roughly placed cover, as your head moved up and down by Yoongi’s breath. Laying onto him felt like a antidepressant pill to you.Time had stopped. He was leaning onto his left arm as you both were looking up at the sky. His free hand from time to time brushing over your hair.

“Your mom is calling.” he said taking a glance at your lit up phone screen

“Leave it.” you didn’t even use all the breath in your lungs with this sentence.

“Shouldn’t you pick up tho? I mean she is your mom.” Yoongi’s eyes now focused onto you

“Nah man, she is probably mad at me for something. My mom or not, good or shitty relationship, no matter how much parents say ‘i understand you’ or ‘i was your age once too’ .It never works, telling them anything ends up being a pain in the ass later. Asking for help when you fuck up is the same.” you tried following a lonely cloud with the corner of your eye

“I guess them not accepting that something is wrong with their kids is a defense mechanism.”

“That fucks us up tho. Just because they want to lie to themselves to feel better, leaves their kids untreated and undiagnosed ,messing them up. Years of being bullied and not knowing why, can’t study even if they try, can’t be themselves. Such an easy solution, yet such a hard choice to make to take the first step.” you sighed as you spoke out, a bit of disappointment mixed in with your breath.

“Ha ha ha.” Yoongi laughed under his nose before laying back down

“The fuck did I say?” you cut him off, thinking the giggle was a bit displaced in this talk

“And when you take the first step? What then? The so called professionals lie to us too, give us chemistry and tell us all will be ok as they turn us into addicts to fake serotonin. Psychologists? The word comes from Greek meaning the study of the soul, yet those assholes look at us as bags of meat that you can stuff with pills. Yet we would do anything to get that drop of calmness, that feeling of being a bit happy for being alive right now. And when the effect passes? You want more and more, pill after pill, pharmacy after pharmacy. What difference is there between us people with anxiety and disorders and drug addicts? The medical degree probably.”

You smirked after his last words “ Not all doctors are bad, but you can feel how genuine they are, the rest are health merchants. I don’t think there was a difference in the first place. Drugs, alcohol, smoking fuck it, even sex, man. It’s all to fill that void with dopamine, serotonin and all the bio crap.”

“Isn’t that chemistry tho?”

“We learned it in biology class so it’s bio to me. Do I look like a professor to you?” you rolled over and flicked his nose earning a ‘yah!’ “Hey.”

“Wasup?” Yoongi pulled his hand from under his head and spread his arms wide like a star in the vast sky.

“You know that thing where people ask you, if you saw your younger self in front of you right now and they were having the same feelings as you. What would you do?”

“I don’t know honestly, probably give the little guy a hug and some money ,or buy him something to eat. Someone out there for sure has it shittier than me, but I guess one of my mistakes was to undervalue my own emotions and mental state. Fuck, i got myself in such a hole. When people say ‘after you hit the bottom there is no where more to go but up’ , honestly that is straight up crap and bullshit. Some of us keep clawing and digging fearing that there is more to come. “

“Ah.” a memory popped up in your head on it’s own “That shit hole. Yeah, either you lose yourself laying there with bloody fingernails and hands, or you start crawling back up like a bug. You know, the blood is gonna stain the walls so next time you fall you will remember and catch yourself...if you make it that far.” lifting your hand, you covered a bit of the sky with it, noticing the colors around it “What about the times we reach out but no one grabs on?”

“Fuck! Y/N! We were supposed to have a nice walk in the park not a whole ass depressing talk session!” Yoongi hissed out, unlike his words his voice wasn’t angry

“Oh come on, you know that somehow we always end up talking about this shit.We are both broken pieces, but I think that isn’t bad at all.” you felt his breath stop under you for a split second “I feel like that is why we fit so well together.”

“Oh for real?” he asked a bit surprised by your words “I always thought it was because we were both hella toxic.” you swung your hand and hit him in the stomach “OOF!” he folded in half, sending you sitting up “I forgot how aggressive you were too.” Yoongi’s voice was coming from between his teeth.

“I am serious! I feel like we went through our hard times and learned to manage, that is why we can talk about all these things like this.”

“Makes sense, we were each other’s shoulder. You start falling, I pull on you and the other way around.”

You noticed the contagious smirk on his face that mirrored onto you almost instantly “We fall together, we crawl back up together. Damn we sound inspirational.”

“I told you! We should make one of those vlog channels where people wake up at 5 am looking like damn models, meditate and finish all their work before 11am.” throwing your body back you fell onto the cover, but Yoongi didn’t join you. He staid sitting, letting you focus on his back as he continued “You know we are losers, right?”

“The biggest losers out there.”

He looked towards the sky letting the wind play with his hair, when suddenly you both burst out laughing. Your voices were so loud the birds flew away. “Yeah, we are.”

“Honestly tho Yoongs. Why did we care so much what people thought of us? I mean sometimes I still do but-”

“Same, same.”

“Don’t cut me off stupid!” you kicked him a bit “As I was saying!” you emphasized on ‘saying’ ,when he pinched your leg in retaliation a couple of times “Body types, dudes, girls, genderfluid or no gender at all. Being cute or stylish, pretty or ugly, was a mad waste of time. The nerd is gonna probably become rich, the ugly people will end up becoming better lookin that those basic Karens. I swear, even with all that bulling and people wanting be to be the top. With or without them the Earth keeps spinning .”

“Did you just discriminate flat earth people!?” he gasped cartoonish “Y/N, i didn’t know you were this type of person.”

“Yah! You really out here trying to cancel your best friend, Min Yoongi!”

“You don’t need me to do that, you already do it yourself with the stuff you say.”

“Says you, loser.” your words made him lean onto his elbow next to you, eyes focused on your face as the colors of the sky began fading over your bodies and skin

“I like that word, loser.” he said “It sounds rude, but at the same time no one calls you that if you aren’t different. Different means unique, special. Who tf would want to be the same as others?”

“That was us too stupid, back then.” Yoongi pocked your cheek a couple of times gently

“Yeah, but it’s not back then anymore Y/N. It’s now. We grew up. With our jaw and fist clenched we fought and made it here. They shot at us, they threw rocks and called us cowards, weirdos. But we made it through the darkness. After all that we are and will forever be bulletproof.” the sudden rustle of the grass under you two signaled him getting up and spinning, hands to the side. His head leaned back and he looked so happy. Yoongi’s eyes were closed, he could fall and not even notice, but he wasn’t afraid no more. Whatever happens will happen.

“You make us sound hella dope man. I love it.”

“Anxiety, social issues, any kind of mental problems and disorders. They level us up, as long as we try. At the end of the day you lose something to win something.”

“The end of the chapter is the beginning of the next.” you began to notice he was starting to lose balance from all that spinning around “Hey stupid, you will fall and hurt yourself like th-” you couldn’t even finish the sentence when his legs tangled up and he fell onto you “You ok?!That was such a stupid move! Open your eyes next time!”

“Why?” he became serious, his eyes looking into yours. Yoongi crooked his head to the side,as his fingers caressed your cheek “If I was looking I would have been too afraid to fall. At the end of it all i ended up failing and found a little angel. See? Win win to me. You can’t always see where you are going, but you gotta believe that good things are on the other side.”

“You are bleeding, that is what is on this side.”

“I am WHAT!” his forehead was a bit scratched “Damn it! My handsome face!”

“Oh come on! Wait till I glow up like that! I will get the best looking SO out there.” the child in you was pouting at Yoongi

“You know damn well we are too messed up for a relationship with others. We try and try, get used and then we either lose interest, or fall completely out of love for months. By the way...” his fingers found your cheek again, but this time it wasn’t a gentle poke but a sharp pinch. Your hands flew in the direction of his arm to try and make him let go of you. “Who told you you don’t look good?”

“Ow ow Yoongi! Let me go!!!”

“Not until you tell me who said all that crap to you!?” prying yourself from his grip you continued rubbing the now red and warm spot

“People i liked or others in general. You know how shit goes.”

“You for real need to get your eyes checked! People stare at you when you walk by cus you look TOO good.” his words were like a low growl of a jealous pet

“Nah man, they are either judging me or they want to fight me. There is no middle ground here.”

“You really!” with all the power in his hand he flicked your forehead

“Stop inflicting me wounds!”

“Then stop talking shit about yourself! I swear your bodydismorphia needs to join Jimin when he has talk sessions about his day with Hoseok.Plus, people do stare at you when you walk in town in the attracted way. On our way here at least 5 people turned back and continued looking.”

“Ew creepy!” you said “Why do you count them!”

“You little!!!Come here!” your neck found itself in a chokehold in a matter of seconds

“HYUNG!”Jungkook’s voice echoed through the park reaching your direction “Y/N AND YOONGI ARE BEING THE DEPRESSED AND FLIRTY AGAIN!”

“This kid I swear I will kill him some time soon!” you hissed at Jungkook

“You two really can’t drop this habit.” the slow and calm footsteps pulled your attention and soon subsided your anger

“Joon, you know how we are.” you added, leaning back onto you elbows

“I know, we are all like that.” Joon looked at you two sitting on the ground

“Y/N is right, broken pieces do find each other.” Yoongi added, but Joon sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He squatted down eye level

“Broken pieces find each other because they fit together and make a beautiful new bottle that they can fill up with happy memories. Our sad and hard pasts make us titanium that can’t be broken. Even if one of us cracks, we are all going to help him become stronger.” he reached his hand out, standing up “ You are not alone Y/N, we are going to be forever titanium. You have us and we have you now. We are not lonely or misérables with you.”

“WE ARE BULLETPROOF GUYS!” Jungkook yelled out again

“Yeah...we are.” with a smile shining brighter than ever ,you grabbed Joon’s hand.He pulled you up as you were holding onto Yoongi. When the chain starts no one can cut the bond. We pull each other up...is what you realized.

“Oh and.”

“Yes Joons?”

“Can you two date already or at least go out on a date. It hurts looking at yall like this.”

“What!?” the blanket in your hand turned into weapon as you began hitting him with it in a moment of panic. His words hit a nerve.Yoongi wasn’t the one to rush or to run. With his hands in his pockets he followed you down the hill. His footsteps stopped for a moment to look at the now dark sky.

We may not be able to see the stars during the day, but at night they are too many to even count. Nothing is truly hidden forever, even who you are meant to be. It’s ok not to know now or later. When we are young we dont really know. We try to fit in a mold that was created, but we can’t, we just can’t no matter how much we try.

We end up being labeled by the things we are different. Some come from a darker past, others don’t. Yet everyone is important, the way they feel, their emotions and inner state. If I could, I would grab your hand and show you a bit of the future. Think of this, your future self, the one that did it all finally and continues to dream big, is looking at you through memories. They grab your hand and push you forward towards the good. The tunnel may be dark, cold, lonesome and scary but it always leads to something. Just don’t give up.

Regret, unsuccessful love, residual feelings for someone who used you. They are all a stepping stone, don’t look at them. Now you know what not to do, EXP( experience points) come in many forms honey. Be who you want to be, life is yours. Be the main character in your story, not anyone else’s. Even if you fall sometimes, show everyone how amazing you are by standing up. Baby steps turn into miles, whispers become yelling, crawling becomes flying. Breaking the mold becomes you.

#bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts text #bts texts #bts text scenario #bts text scenarios #bangtan scenario #bangtan scenarios #bangtan text scenarios #bangtan text scenario #bts x you #bts x reader #bangtan boys scenarios #bangtan boys fanfic #bangtan boys scenario #bts and you #bts with you #be yourself

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brandstifter-sys · 3 years

Text

Under Pressure

Chapter 7: Logarithms �� (Ao3)

Word Count: 1014

Characters: All

Ships: Strong Roceit, hinted Royaliceit

Rating: T

Warnings: Villain!Logan, Dark! Logan, arguing, electrocution (cartoonish), excessive flirting, food mention

-------

Remus reached the top of the stairs and found the other three standing in front of a large oak door. Patton was trying in vain to open it, pulling on the handle with both hands and a foot on the wall. Roman watched him with Janus, who was still in his arms.

"It won't budge!" Patton snarled and went limp, bringing his foot to the ground. Roman scoffed, ready to deliver a scathing comment.

"Darling, don't fret, this set back is a chance for us to get closer," Janus purred and ran his hand down Roman's cheek.

"My dearest—"

"Okay, kids, not in front of the emo!" Remus said and moved past them to the door in question.

It was one of his but something was off. The handle wasn't the usual tentacle design and there was a faint bump in the wood crossing from the odd handle to the doorframe. He wouldn't put it past the nerd to set a few traps. He conjured a pair of kitchen gloves on his hands and rolled his neck.

"Hey, Papa Roach," he said and shifted the human sloth into his arms, "Hold this for a sec!" Patton squeaked when Remus tossed Virgil into his arms.

"What the—?"

Patton's jaw dropped as Remus grabbed the handle and ripped it off with a scream, letting a charge of bright blue electricity bolt and zap from the hole he created up his arm. He lifted off the ground and jolted, showing off his skeleton like some old cartoon before his feet hit the ground.

"Holy shit!" Janus yelped and clung to Roman. Virgil lolled his head and stared at Remus with a blank expression.

"Bill Kaulitz, shocking," he mumbled while staring at Remus' hair. It was standing on end but in cool spikes. Remus blinked twice and laughed.

"Even now you're the funny one!"

"How come you didn't just make the door open or disappear?" Patton asked concernedly, "And why did you electrocute yourself?"

"I electrocute myself all the time! For fun!" Remus shrugged, "and I can't really do much as Creativity right now, neither can Ro."

"Logan's doing, I assume," Janus hummed. It brought a growl out of Roman that made him shiver.

"That fiend! When I get my hands on him for whatever he did to cause such a horrible fate—"

"Dampening device," Virgil cut him off, "it's just like the one he made me for the bad days when I was close to panicking."

"So it's your fault he has that tech!?" Patton snapped with tears in his eyes. Virgil flinched, expecting the worst.

"Have you no shame?" Roman scoffed, "Blaming a damsel, another victim, for the crimes another has committed!"

"I—I—" Patton stammered in horror.

"Easy Ro. He's pure emotions, he blurts things out without thinking," Remus cut in and took Virgil from Patton before either of them started crying or shrinking into themselves too much.

"I didn't mean it," Patton whimpered and rubbed his eyes.

"I know," Virgil said and curled into Remus, "I know and it's okay, I'm okay." Patton offered a meek smile while Janus bit back a surge of bile in his throat.

"Okay!" Remus cheered, "I didn't get zapped just to stand around! Let's go!"

He kicked the singed door in and trotted into the darkness that would lead to the next room. Roman and Patton followed him, letting him set off any more traps. There weren't any, fortunately. There was only a dark room. And he really did not like that.

"Oh. I wasn't expecting you so soon." A disembodied, robotic voice greeted them as the lights suddenly turned on.

Virgil hissed and covered his eyes, Remus winced, and Janus hid his face with his hat. Roman and Patton glared at the white, metallic walls, searching for the source of the voice.

"No matter. There's merit to being ahead of schedule."

"Schedule?" Roman questioned, "And who's schedule are we forcibly following?"

"You always did ask stupid questions. Pay attention, because I don't want to explain it more than once."

"Hey! There's no need to be mean!" Patton huffed and stamped his foot.

"That was a mere fact. Try not to let your emotions cloud your judgement during testing."

"How about you tell us what's next on the itinerary instead, Logan," Janus groaned, "You're cutting into my time with my king."

"How tactful. And by that I mean ‘rude,’" the robo nerd droned, "You will be allowed access to the control center after you undergo a few tests."

"Is there cake too?" Virgil scoffed to himself, mostly. Remus giggled softly and resisted the urge to high-five the tired emo.

"We'll only play along for the finest confections," Janus added, completely oblivious to the joke, "None of your Twinkies, such as myself. Not when these boys deserve a proper banquet."

Virgil and Remus shared a knowing look and cringed as static erupted through the airwaves.

"Of course there will be cake. Tomorrow is Virgil's birthday."

Janus' stomach churned.

"No it isn't. Since when do you care about birthdays?!" Patton shouted. He kept up with the date and he was on top of those birthdays!

"Oh I'm sorry, as the side who manages the calendar and schedule I must be completely out of touch. Keep your emotions in check if you want to return to your primary functions."

Patton steeled his jaw and growled indignantly. Roman set Janus on his feet and pulled Patton to his side. No one dared insult his friends and expect to get away with it!

"Now then, if you are prepared for your next test, proceed to the door at the end of the room. And watch your step. The last batch of test subjects lost control of their lower abdominal muscles."

"Who were these last test subjects?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"Irrelevant. Proceed to the exit," loga n snapped. Remus shrugged and walked to the door that appeared on the other side of the room. He didn't care if he stepped in poop. He was more concerned about what was on the other side.

-----

(Master Post)

#sanders sides #ts under pressure au #royaliceit #roman sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #villain!logan #dark!logan #ingenuity!remus #indulgence!janus #emo(tion)!patton #depression!virgil #pride!roman #istg if the html formatting doesn't show up i will lose it #if it doesn't please look up 'log function formula' on google i don't know how much more simply i could explain it.#sandyscribed

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tuff-and-fluff-archives · 4 years

Text

Okay I am hyperfixating HARD on Tom and Jerry and all my emotions from childhood have FLOODED forth, so now that I’ve finished watching (almost) all 161 original theatrical Tom and Jerry shorts from 1940 to 1967, I would like to force you all to endure my insane ramblings about this franchise. Although before I begin, I’d like to share where I’ve been watching all these! Here’s a Dailymotion playlist of all 161 shorts, put into the correct order by yours truly :3 OKAY NOW THE INSANITY BEGINS 💖💖💖

1) The Messy Formative Years: Shorts 001-017 (1940-1944)

So obviously, when a series is first created, especially an animated series, the first few episodes will always be a bit odd as the directors and writers find their footing and establish the rules of their own universe, and Tom and Jerry is no exception! In fact, these episodes can be a bit weird and even jarring to watch because the designs of the titular characters are so drastically different from how they look even ten years afterwards. In fact, in the very first episode, they don’t even have their official names yet and are instead named “Jasper and Jinx.” Also, there’s a LOT of talking in these beginning shorts before they decided to make Tom and Jerry almost entirely mute. Shorts 010 and 013 stand out the most, as they feature characters regularly speaking full sentences and it’s just... ohhh it’s SO weird to watch and it feels almost wrong 😅 Of course that’s not to say these shorts are bad, far from it actually! They’re still super fun and fascinating to watch and I think it’s quite interesting to see how such an iconic franchise got its start!

2) The Golden Years: Shorts 018-097 (1945-1955)

Oh. My. GOD. THESE ARE THE ABSOLUTE BEST. I guarantee that when you just think about Tom and Jerry, THESE are the shorts that come to mind. By now William Hanna & Joseph Barbara fully had their formula down and were just pumping out hit after hit afTER HIT HHHHH I LOVE THESE SO MUCH. I’m not kidding when I say that these shorts still make me laugh really hard and I absolutely adore nearly every aspect of them: the fluid and extremely expressive animation, the excellently timed music paired with each short, and the humor that’s constant and lands almost every time. My absolute favorite ones are around 040-080 but really all of these are just sooooo good. I know that this is stating the obvious but one thing that I especially love is just how VIOLENT these cartoons are, even more than the Looney Tunes shorts that were coming out at the same time. Characters are constantly picking up knives or axes or straight up GUNS and ngl I feel like half of the humor comes from that shock factor of the insane absurdity of that violence. Okay I’m starting to sound rly dumb, I know explaining the joke is never fun, but the directing and animation just NAILS every joke; I think the secret behind it is that there’s always a buildup and anticipation before the impact, and that buildup just makes the impact all the more intense! I was going to list my top 5 favorites but it’s impossible to choose so lemme just recommend a random five out of all of them: 026 - Solid Serenade, 048 - Saturday Evening Puss, 067 - Triplet Trouble, 069 - Fit to Be Tied, and 076 - That’s My Pup!

Also, I don’t know where else to mention this so I’ll just say it here: there’s a gradual change that Tom’s design goes through where he’s slowly drawn to be less and less fuzzy. At first his outline was drawn with a lot of points to emphasize his fur, but over time they abandoned doing that, my guess is because it was harder to animate. I’d say that they fully transitioned to Smooth Tom around short 030. That’s just a little detail I noticed and wanted to share! ^-^

3) The Slow Decay: Shorts 098-114 (1956-1958)

*heavy sigh* Well... a good thing can’t last forever. What’s kinda strange is that I can’t really nail down a specific reason caused a decline in quality after 1955; short 096 was the last to be produced by Fred Quimby, with Hanna & Barbara being given the producer credit as well as director credit for the remaining 18 shorts, and MGM animation studios had major budget cuts in the late 50′s and was shut down in 1957, and perhaps the studio shutting down had also taken the joy out of the crew, which would certainly have an effect on the cartoons. Now that doesn’t mean that these last 16 shorts are bad- they’re still quite entertaining, but they just don’t have the same energy as the shorts made in the Golden Years. They’re also nowhere near as cartoonishly violent as the past shorts had been; weapons are almost never used anymore and there are barely any efforts from Tom and Jerry to straight up kill each other, and more often than not they’re working together and even acting like close friends. I think that’s pretty fair evidence that even if these later shorts were much tamer and friendlier, that meant that they were lacking the same chaotic energy that made the other shorts so hilarious.

Also I just need to vent this here cuz this era also contains the two most absolutely infuriating shorts in the Hanna-Barbera era, that being 100 - Busy Buddies and 114 - Tot Watchers. These two shorts consist of Tom and Jerry attempting to stop a baby from accidentally dying cuz it’s just a dumb baby that doesn’t know anything, while the babysitter is just totally ignorant to everything happening. Now I can’t quite explain why and I’m probably just making myself look like an asshole but these shorts are just... so frustrating to me??? Like its bad enough that this stupid baby whose face NEVER changes from that stupid little smile just keeps wandering into dangerous situations (in Tot Watchers it straight up crawls into a CONSTRUCTION ZONE) but every time Tom rescues the little bastard and puts it back in its crib, the babysitter thinks he’s “bothering” the baby (probably because of that one myth about cats laying on babies and stealing their breath) and so poor Tom is just punished for doing literally nothing wrong!! It’s just... very frustrating to me for some reason I’m sorry... (Although I have to admit that it is interesting and kinda cute that Tom knows how to change a diaper, like wif the safety pins and everything. Why does he know that...?)

4) The Gene Deitch Shit Shorts: 115-127 (1961-1962)

OOOH BOY. I don’t think... that I can really describe how purely and utterly I dislike the Deitch shorts. Okay so, to explain, in 1961 MGM decided they wanted to revive the Tom and Jerry franchise, so they contracted an animation studio based in Czechoslovakia to create 13 new original shorts. All of these shorts were directed by Gene Deitch, who before being commissioned for these cartoons, was open about his disdain for the original Hanna-Barbera shorts that he described as “needlessly violent.” After he was assigned to the series, he did come around to somewhat realize that the violence was intended to be overly cartoonish and humorous, but his initial opinion still had an influence on his directing decisions. In addition to these facts, the foreign team behind this series had only collectively seen a handful of the original cartoons, and each short was given a budget of only $10,000, compared to the $50,000 that the Hanna-Barbera shorts had all been given.

SO. To recap, these 13 new shorts were being made by a foreign team who had barely seen any of the source material, directed by a man who had disliked the original cartoons, and being made on 1/5 of the budget that the Hanna-Barbera shorts were given. Needless to say, the end results were a DISASTER. I’m not kidding when I say that watching these shorts feels almost like a fever dream with how completely baffling and surreal they are. I honestly don’t think they could be any more different from the original series; the music and sound effects are extremely minimalist and usually completely absent, the animation is so jerky and totally lacking the fluidity of the originals, and the character design is also drastically different and, in my opinion, kinda ugly too. These are universally considered to be the worst of the theatrical shorts, and Deitch himself has even stated that he and his team “hardly had a chance to succeed” and he fully understands the negativity directed towards the shorts he directed. I have to confess that when I rewatched all the theatrical shorts, I only got through two of these before outright skipping the rest of them. These 13 shorts are a complete disgrace to the majesty of the Hanna-Barbera series, and while I don’t hold anything against the people behind them, I can’t lie when I say that I hate these shorts.

5) The Chuck Jones Era: 128-161 (1963-1967)

I have an odd love-hate relationship with these shorts. I don’t think I need to explain to you the legacy of the great Chuck Jones, the creator of Marvin the Martian, Pepe Le Pew, and the Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote whose name is nearly synonymous with the Looney Tunes cartoons of the 30′s, 40′s, and 50′s. He’s an absolute legend in the animation industry, and yet... the Tom and Jerry shorts that he directed are still significantly weaker than the original series. Let me start with the things I like though! The slight changes in the character design to match Chuck Jones’ signature style are super appealing (I especially like how at times, Tom will almost resemble Jones’ design for the Grinch) and the animation is of course very well done and a joy to watch, but despite these positives, the humor is sadly lacking. There are still quite a few jokes that land, but they’re more restrained and just don’t have the same high-energy oomph! of the impactful gunshot sound effects and violent screams of the original cartoon. I’ll always have an appreciation for this era of shorts and the man behind them, but they sadly didn’t even come halfway close to the Hanna-Barbera series.

WELL. ANYWAY, THAT’S MY RANT!!! Thanks for reading this far, all two people that did. It just felt good to get this outta my system! 💖💖

#long post #💜: you're the cat's meow!#ruby rambles #i implore you i am begging you PLEASE interact wif this post #legit it will make me SO happy if someone leaves a little comment or ask for me and a reblog would actually kill me 💘💘#JUST PLEASE TALK TO ME ABOUT THE CARTOON I LOVE IT SM #maybe if people wanna talk about their favorite episodes and stuff!!! im more than willing to respond!!!#i just have so much to say im sorry jhfsjhd 🥺🥺🥺

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kimhargreeves · 4 years

Text

The Big Three-Mirio Togata

Summary:The Big Three visit Class 1A. Reader is fascinated with Mirio Togata the blonde cute male of the group. After their training she contemplates to ask him out since he's in a class oldee than her.

Due to me joining Izuku last night into the fight with Bakugou and not doing anything .i was punished for it. Aizawa nearly beheading us three if it weren't for All Might explaining what was going on, I am Izuku's cousin and i've living with him and his mom since I can remember. I tried stopping and shouting at Bakugou to stop messing with Izuku, but he's too stubborn and stupid.

We spent the whole day cleaning the entire IA building and saw everyone finally come after their classes ended. Mineta walked over to where Bakugou supposedly cleaned, "Excuse me but what's up with this dust Bakugou?" Mineta began teasing Bakugou who began to flip out.

"Deku was supposed to do that shut up!" Mineta along with Sero began laughing. "Hey can't you even clean something right you idiots!!" Bakugou shouted at us both.

"Don't raise your voice at me you idiot!! i angrily tell him and Izuku only apologizes while we tied up the trash bags. "We were so lost at Present Mic's class today."

"We were supposed to know all the grammar he was going over."

"Oh yeah,that right? I was like is,this even English?"

"I think i studied the last chapter."

"I was stuck at the beginning and couldn't figure out anything after that."

Izuku and I listen close to Ashido, Kirishima and talk. "In just one day i've been completely left behind." a voice behind us says and we look to see Iida. "That's what you both are thinking right house arrest?" he seriously says his glasses making it seem like he's glaring at us.

"Hey! Don't call us that it's mean." Izuku tells Iida and I agree with him. "Umm what's even a work study?" I try asking Iida.

"Something I can't tell you about." he snaps at us, "The teachers have forbidden us from giving you any detail about our classes, sorry but you'll have to experience the same shock we went through." He looks over to Bakugou who looks like he might explode any second.

"Did you catch that Bakugou?"

"Shut your mouth! I heard you four eyes!!"

I roll my eyes and grabbed a trash bag helping my cousin in taking it out. "Oh man what is a work study?" he asks carrying two bags in his arms. I shrug and deeply sigh, "We can always ask All Might. He'll most likely end up telling us if we ask him." Izuku stays silent and seems deep in his thoughts.

I stop my eyes widening at the thing to our right, "Uhh I-Izuku.." I shakily point my finger at the face and see Izuku slowly move his eyes to the right.

"Trash am I right?" Izuku and I jump up frightened at him. "What are you doing?" our eyes are wide at how surprised we are. Suddenly the face disappears and .i blink a couple of times and look at my cousin.

"Am I going insane?! Did you see that?"

Izuku nods his head staring back at me, "I-I think we overworked ourselves today, now we're seeing things."

We look down to our feet and we both scream, I let the bag fall from my hands,I step back and try covering myself since I was wearing a skirt. "So you must be that excitable first year! I bet that was a freaky surprise for you both, i'm sorry." Izuku takes a step closer snd stares at the boy with the weirdly cartoonish face.

"What in the world are you?"

"Were you waiting for us all this time?" i ask mostly to myself than to him. The guy laughs "Not a bad question my friend. I admit sometimes .i weird myself out." he says responding to my cousins question.

"But don't worry, you're gonna find out who I am soon enough. People can't stop talking about you two, so I came to see what all the fuzz was about." then he disappears and I start freaking out with Izuku. I feel my cheeks warm up and I start shaking my head and slapped myself, "Whoa that w-was weird!"

"Yeah. I swear i've seen him before." Izuku tells me.

**************************

It's been three days and Izuku and I wrote our apologizes. Our house arrest ended before Bakugou, "Guys sorry for all the trouble I caused!!" Is the first thing Izuku says when he steps into our classroom.

"Uhh what's with those steam nostrils?" weirded out I ask him and try calming him down bur he continues to apologize to everyone. "Time to take your seats everyone." Aizawa sneaked behind us freaking us out, we ran to our seats and sat down ready for hell.

"Morning. Now that Midoriya and (L/N) are back will go into more detail about the work studies." Aizawa then look at the door, "Go ahead and come in."

We all turn our heads once the door slides open. "I'll have people who have experienced first hand explain. I suggest you all listen carefully as they point out how studies differ from internships." Izuku and I gasp when we see them.

"These three are third years. They ranked at the very top in work studies. You may know them as the big three."

"Holy shit.." I whisper so Aizawa doesn't throw me off the third floor. I blush deep red and look at Izuku. "Do you know what this means?! We'll get our asses kicked." Izuku nervously nods and we look back to the front of the class.

Everyone began to mutter while we stared at them. "All the talented students here, they are the ones at the top." I hear Iida mutter to himself close to Uraraka. "Their on a different level still in school but practically pro heroes." Momo whispers

"If their as good as I hear then their the students we should be chasing after." Jirou mutters and then Kaminari. "They don't look special to me, except the girl she's pretty hot." I turn to him and glare at him and Mineta who are clearly looking at the poor girls body. "You're disgusting you know that?" looking back at Mineta i tell him who's drooling all over his desk. I turn my head forward and stare at the blonde boy in front of us then Izuku.

"Alright introduce yourselves." Aizawa says under his scarf and looks at the dark headed boy. "Let's start with Amajiki." suddenly his eyes stare at us, giving us some intensity in the room. Then he stays silent and begins to shake, "You two go..I just can't even if i try to imagine them as potatoes, I can see their human bodies. I know that they are still people, my mind is blank and my mouth is dry, I wanna go home." Amajiki turns his back to us, staring at the board. I never thought of him as the shy type.

"Come on Amajiki! You need to have the heart of a lion not a kitten. Even though you're human know what i mean?" The girls says then introduces to him, "This is our kitten Amajiki. And hi my name is Nejire Hado. I'm supposed to talk about work studies, you first years have a real rime ahead of you." the girl then began to look at some of us up close and then stepped in front of me.

"Ooh you're a cute one. What's your name? or even better what quirk do you have?! Let's get to know some more." she cheerfully smiled and I glanced behind her to see Aizawa getting impatient.

"This is getting irrational." his eyes began to glow red and his hair was lifting itself up, I shivered at the sight of him getting angry again. "Oh there's no need worry Eraserhead. I'll get the audience focused again. The futures gonna be?!" the last guy asked us only to be met with silence.

"Gonna be what?"

"Awful. That's your part guys." We stared at him strangely while some guys began muttering to themselves on how weird they are. Which is true but that makes them adorable. I couldn't help but blush. "Okay, you guys look like you have no idea what's going on. I guess we are third years who just showed up to your classroom to explain a program that's completely voluntary. I guess i can see why you're confused by that.." We listened to what Mirio said till Nejire and Amajiki looked at him.

"Heads up! You first years must fight me at once!"

"What?!!"

"You wanna fight us right now?!"

Aizawa stayed silent but agreeing in us fighting Mirio. I zipped up my uniform and shrieked when Uraraka shoved her face to mine and smirked. "You like the third you don't you?" i began waving my hands around while blushing.

"I h-have no idea that you are saying!"

"Don't lie to me. I saw the way you were looking at Mirio."

"That's insane!" i fight her back and Togata appears. "Ooh can ypu imagine what it would be like to date a third year?!"

"Even a blind man can see the way you stared at him." Momo bluntly said while Jirou, Ashiro and Asui nodded their heads. I look away at them nervously then proceeded to walk where the guys were outside and we headed to the gym.

"Midio it would've been simple enough for us to just tell them." Amajiki says with his head against the wall. "Plus think about how bad it'll look if some of them can't recover after fighting you. No one wants to spend a few years in a hospital bed." i shivered again and began to take a couple of steps back.

"Alright i'm so out." i turned my back but was met with mr Aizawa glaring at me with his quirk activated. Or I guess not. "Shit we're screwed." i took in my fighting position with the rest of the class. Izuku ran towards Mirio and began to follow him too till my eyes widened when Mirio's clothes began to loosen from him.

I could feel my entire face burning up when i squealed and heard Jirou screaming in the background. Izuku tried attacking him while i held onto my nose which was bleeding. I shook my head and began running to where Uraraka was. He punched her and he was after me next, i saw his attack on time and dodged it, tried kicking him, jumped back but when i looked around he wasn't here.

"Right behind you." i yelled and looked behind me to see his hand coming on contact with my stomach. I felt all the air inside me leave, i fell down to my knees while holding onto my stomach like the rest and saw Izuku with his eyes rolled back. "Sorry if I punched ou that hard." i heard Mirio's voice in front of me.

I sniffed and wiped my few tears that escaped my eyes, "That's okay." i mutter still not being able to talk after that one punch. My heart began pounding when I saw him offering his hand to me, i didnt hesitate to grab onto it. The second my hands touched his i felt something, i blushed again and saw Uraraka giving me a tired thumbs up. Too nervous to being this close to him i jumped back. We waited a few minutes for all of us to recover, Mirio explained his quirk to us, Permeation.

His quirk sounded so hard to control for me at least since I had no quirk, i still can't fully control mine but his sounds so complicated. We all thanked the third years for coming, does this mean we won't see them again after this? While everyone spoke to one another about them, i watched the third years leaving. I fiddled with my hands nervously then looked towards the door, i don't do this i'll regret it.

I ran out of the building despite Aizawa calling after me. I saw the three of them leaving till I called Mirio out, the three of them stopped and stared at me confused. Mirio muttered to them something so hey began to leave, shit, we'll be alone! I shrugged that thought off and stopped in front of him.

"(Y/N) was it?" He asks smiling down at me and I nod my head.

"On behalf of 1-A, I want to thank you for taking your time in explaining to us on what we should do. Eat this!" I handed him my bento box and a pie i baked for Izuku but decided to give it to Mirio instead. "Thank you." i bow my head respectfully and felt his hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see him smiling at me and giving me a thumbs up.

"There's no need for you to thank me. What hero would I be if I didn't help you all out? I should be the one thanking you instead."i see his cheeks turning pink and i give him a closed eyed smile. "I can give you few lessons if you'd like, how about we meet at the newest ramen shop that just opened by the park?" is his even happening?....I smile wide and nod my head.

"I'll be there! Don't you worry Mirio." Mirio smiled and began messing with my hair making me laugh, "Alright then, see you at five." he said turning around and waving back at me. I smile wide and let out a loud squeal and fist bumped the air, i have to tell the girls about this!

#my hero academia x reader #mirio togata x reader #lemillion #izuku midoriya #bnha imagine #anime #nejire hado #tamaki amakiji #u.a. high school #hero work studies #quirks #aizawa shouta #bnha x reader

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multifandom-stranger · 4 years

Text

Rain With a Chance of Sweet Drops

Genre: Soulmate au, fluff

A/n: Hiiii a small story to keep y’all fed. I’ve been so so lazy and feel awful about it. I suggest you listen to these while reading: Sanctuary by Joji, I’m closing my eyes by potsu, A while by a[way], and Cutie by haroinfather. Or this playlist that has those songs and more.

I wonder why it is what it is? Why an umbrella? Seems so dumb and common. You thought to yourself as you sat inside the small coffee shop across from your friend Haechan. It’s raining today so... maybe today is the day...

“-llooo? Earth to Y/n! You really have a talents for zoning out, you know?” You finally gain back full focus on your bestie after a hand was practically shoved into your face. “Stop thinking about it too much.”

“About what?” You scratched at the back of your neck timidly as you ended the very particular train of thought you were on completely.

“Your partner. Your staring at your mark so what else could you be thinking about.” Haechan smirked and leaned down to take a sip from his iced Americano with a mischievous grin.

You lived in a world of everyone having their heart on their sleeve. Literally. Everyone was born with a small mark on their wrist, similar to a birthmark that developed into a select few images, letters, symbols, etc. Once you met your special someone there’s supposedly and instant sense of attraction wether you know you share the mark or not. The symbol ties into how you meet or fall in love. When you meet them and gain a connection the color of it will appear. Some people have hearts, a meaningful word, or even a specific place. But you were left to ponder over a stupid umbrella seemingly tattooed on your wrist.

“I can’t help it! How are you not curious about finding ‘the one’?” You looked down at the simple shape of a cartoonish umbrella once again before glancing over to Haechan’s wrist, adorned with a triangle, ish shape. It was all black. Rather odd really. Most people could tell what their mark was but he was at a loss. You couldn’t imagine how he felt.

“Honestly, I couldn’t care less. Isn’t the whole point of it to be fate and all? Trying to think about it logically makes no sense at all.” Plucking his drink swiftly from the table with one hand at the top he leaned back and eyed you with it almost up to his mouth again. “Just let things take their course Y/n. It’s more fun that way.”

“I guess your right. Thanks man.” The hesitance was still slightly present in your voice but nonetheless he had a point.

“Wanna hangs out with me and a group of friends this weekend? Small dorm party. Only cool kids allowed. You in?” His eyebrow quirked up curiously as his tone raised for the question.

A party sounded like something you needed at this point, even if you gut feeling was that it spelled trouble. Just like your bestie said, you needed to ease up and live a little. “Screw it, I’ll be there. What time?”

“It’s at the Nu Chi Tau frat house. I’ll pick you up at 8:30.” He leaned over the table suddenly, farting all up in your face with a stern look. After a second that seemed to pass ever so slowly he spoke out again. “You better not flake on me!”

“I won’t, I won’t I promise!”

~•Time Skip•~

You currently are sitting at the doorstep of this stupid frat house, abandoned by your friend and no ride home. You venue well could walk but there was one complication to that plan. Rain. Horrible, intense rain. People inside were using it as and excuse to keep the party going but you’d shyer you real quick as soon as the one person you really knew (Haechan) ditched you to leave with someone. Wasn’t his style really, so it really has you confused and alone. Trying to push your pity party along and over to the side you focused on the splash and plop of the heavily falling water from the heavens. The house had and overhang for you to chill on, godsent in your opinion, where you started to pace about and pray that the rain stopped soon.

“Have fun lover boy!!” You whipped you head around to see the door fly open and someone get shoved out onto the porch harshly. Before you knew it a small click, barely audible over the thrumming of the rain was heard. The lock you had presumed. Still slightly scared from the uproar you were left to stare at the strange boy who now was sitting there in his knocked over position hand over his forehead. He looked hella stressed out as he rubbed at it and then munched his nose with a sigh. One thing worth mentioning was what you swore was a red hue to his cheeks and even ears, yet you still couldn’t make out his face from you stance. Wait, this dude just took a pretty good tumble. Shit, do something you loser! “Uh, hey are you okay? You landed on your hands pretty hard to catch your fall there.” You approached him cautiously as he got up, still looking down as he brushed his knees off with his hands a bit.

And then he looked up with a smile. As dumb and cliche as it is, time moved slower for a moment. This mystery boy was both the cutest and most handsome person you’d ever seen. How both worked you had no idea but here he was, living proof it was possible. His eyes were almond shaped and had a certain twinkle, his slightly pouty lips upturned into a playful grin, and his jawline was both rounded and pronounced at the same time. He sure was a looker. Staring! You’re staring at him! You yelled internally as his slightly pinkish cheeks were now accompanied by yours and you looked down to his knees that peeked out of his ripped blue jeans. No scratches there, good.

“Yeah, I’m all good I think. Jerks though it would be funny to lock me out, but at least I’m not alone.” He had lifted his hands in a casual shrug type of gesture when you saw that he had a nasty scrape on his palm, just like you had suspected. Without quite thinking you reached out and grabbed his hand to look at the damage.

“You did get a cut. Aw, I looks bad too. One sec,” while cupping his hand above yours the other reached into your back pocket to fumble for a bandaid. You were quite the clutz so you always had them on hand.

While you took your moment to retrieve the remedy, the boy was left to stare down at your hands meeting. Yours was so warm, especially in contrast with the cool dew seemingly spreading through the air from the rain. It was so gentle as well. You barely held his hand at all and yet it was effecting him so much. But most importantly he saw your wrist. That’s all he needed to be brave enough that when you handed him the bandaid he look your other hand as well.

“Hey, I’m Na Jaemin. It’s really nice to meet you and all but I think you need to take a look at something.” He have you that childish smile once again and you could just feel your heart tense up for some reason. It was so precious. That plus the added bonus of the simple yet sweet contact from your hands holding slightly was enough to leave you a bit flustered. You were to shy to look at exactly what he was getting at.

“What do you mean? Look where?” He simply chuckled and let you other hand with the bandaid still in it go slowly, as if he didn’t want to have his hand leave that spot.

“Ah! Ow... Ya know, my other hand really hurts too. Could you maybe put the bandage on for me?” His voice had a certain sing song quality to it joined by a rather obvious tone of whining. He sounded like a little kid trying to get something without saying just what it is to trick their mother. It was oddly charming in it’s own way even if it was whining.

“Um, sure. Are you sure you don’t need to go back inside? We can knock-“

“No!!” He paused and cleared his throat a bit to regain composure. “I mean, it’s fine I’m sure. Thanks though.” Kinda awkward as well. Cute. You were surprised at the boldness of your own thoughts. You undid the packaging on the bandaid and placed one sticky side with care over his skin to line it up over the wound. As you ever so gently slid your finger over it to stick the other side you froze in place with shock.

Umbrella.....CODE RED! This is not a drill, I repeate this is not a drill. We have an umbrella mark on the wrist! You looked back and forth a million times, eyes flicking over the two marks again and again as Jaemin chucked at how cute you were. As you continued your antics you thought to yourself, Not like they’ve changed colors yet. I-I mean I have seen someone else with an umbrella but nothing happened.

“You’re pressing into my cut a bit cutie.” He chopped up after staring down at you as if he had found a precious diamond in the rough. He was starting to get the whole ‘instant attraction’ thing. He didn’t even have your name yet and he felt like he could just spend the rest of his life with you from then on. It was both weird and comforting in it’s own way.

You jumped back a little and rubbed at the back of your neck. It was a nervous habit, but you don’t particularly feel nervous. It was more calm, but still had your heart racing. It was a promising sign in the least. “I-I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you Jaemin.” You looked back up to him and finally returned his smile with your own. You hadn’t felt so genuinely happy or smiled to full-heartedly in what felt like forever. You were starting to hope this boy was the one because well, he was so sweet and kind and funny and playful.... and you just met him!

“Glad I can put a beautiful name to the face now. Nice to need you too.” He sighed and looked down to see the mark on his wrist still filled in pitch black. Brushing aside the thought that it was odd he took a seat at the steps, next to where you had been before and patted next to his spot. “So what brought you out here?”

You plopped down next to him happily and sighed as you wrapped your arms around your knees and rested your head atop them. “Got ditched my the only person I knew at the party. Not really my kind of scene if I have no one to hang with so I just wanted to go home and go to bed buuut,”

“But the rain right?” You both giggles at how he finished your sentence with perfect timing.

“Yeah, the rain.” You looked over to Jaemin to be met by his charming gaze. There was a comfortable beat of bliss in that moment before you leaned back with a smile. “Now I have someone to hang with at least.” As you slid your hand back you felt something brush against it. It was kinda cold and felt odd. You looked over your shoulder to see a small red umbrella left there on the deck.

“Jaemin, look! An umbrella...” as the last word left your mouth the syllables slowed as you realized this really could be it. Hell, if this isn’t a sign I don’t know what is. You picked the umbrella up with a grin and a small laugh. “Looks like we lucked out!”

“Yeah, I think we did.” Another wave of a comfortable moment of sweet silence and adorning eyes passed over the two of you again before he snapped out of it and took the red thing from your hand in a flash. “You live on campus, right? I can walk you home if you’d like. It’s late and all so,” He let out a small hum before going back on his thoughts. “Actually, non-negotiable. I’m walking you home.”

You let an audible “Huh?” that had him chuckling at you once again. He opened the umbrella up and tipped I out into the rain before looking back to you with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. It’s not too far.” You took a few eager and bouncy steps to meet him under the umbrella with another full fledged smile spread out across your face. “Thank you Jaemin.”

You two set off for the maybe two minute walk tops happy with small chatter and lots of laughter and smiles. You were tempted to get closer, but shoulders brushing and all was just toooo cliche. It’s just too much this is fine for now. Unbeknownst to you Jaemin saw you shoulder getting dropped on and was having none of it. Without hesitation he wrapped his free arm around your shoulder and gave you that heart melting look once again. “You can’t just be all quiet about small stuff like that when there’s a much better solution like this” He nudged you closer playfully and you decided to be bold and lean into his shoulder a bit.

“Okay, I promise I’ll keep it in mind for the future Mr. Gentlemen.” You took your turn to nudge into him with a laugh and relish in the moment. Things just felt so natural and comfortable with Jaemin already. This had to be the real deal.

“Here it is.” You said with much dismay. You didn’t want your time with Jaemin to end. Especially without knowing how to talk again or meet with him. You both faced each other under the tiny shield of the umbrella, the calming taps against both the roof of your dorm and the ground adding to the moment. “Thanks again Jaemin but um-“

“One sec. Gotta check something.” He pulled your wrist up gently with his own that had the mark to show a now brilliant red umbrella upon both your wrists. Once again, Jaemin didn’t need anymore confirmation. Without any reservation he pulled you in for a kiss. It was as if the sound of pattering rain had dulled, the slight cold had disappeared, and everything was right. He pulled away, keeping it short and sweet yet full of passion and feelings. You were left to reach up to your lips with a small smile before beaming up and him and leaning in to steal another small kiss, this time placed upon his cheek.

“Hey soulmate, I’m Na Jaemin. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

#guess what his shirt is made of?#BoYfRiEnD MaTeRiAl #nct #nct dream #na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin fluff #nct soulmate au #jaemin soulmate au #jaemin x reader #fluffy-wuffy my dude

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guessmonsta · 4 years

Note

hello my queen... returned to her castle I see? Could you please do a thing just like the Kuroo one except Kuroo is Bokuto's wingman? I'm so soft for them and you ohmygoodness

You’re adorable and I appreciate you so much. For legal reasons I created a fake cafe called The Gazelle. I’ve used it like twenty times if this is a real place I’m so sorry

It was a very rare occurrence for Bokuto to be awake before noon on a weekend. It was even rarer that he was sprinting across campus to get to Kuroo’s dorm at nine in the morning. Campus custodians gave him weird looks, girls walking to their professors office hours giggled at him, but he just kept running.

Kuroo lived on the eighth floor in the farthest dormitory building from Bokuto’s. He ran up the stairs, skipping two as he went, and once he finally got to Kuroo’s door, he didn’t even bother to knock, he just slammed his fist against the door in one harsh blow.

From inside, he heard Kuroo mutter a quick, “fucking hell,” to his roommate before the door swung open in his face. Kuroo didn’t look amused, and scanned Bokuto up and down before he snorted, covering up his mouth with his hand.

“I’m not gonna judge your lifestyle bro,” Kuroo snorted, “but literally, what the hell.”

“Listen, hear me out,” Bokuto began, still slightly out of breath. “The cute girl who works at The Gazelle has a shift right now.”

“What?” Kuroo stared at him dumbfounded. “How do you know that?”

“Me and, and a couple of my friends from statistics have been taking notes on each time she works. She always works Saturday mornings so-” Kuroo cut him off by laughing again, then stepped out into the hallway and motioned Bokuto to start walking. No matter the situation, no matter how ridiculous it sounded, Kuroo was always readily available for anything Bokuto had in mind.

“So you’ve been stalking this girl?”

“Bro, I’m not stalking her, I’m just admiring her. A-and that admiration has gotten to a kind of unhealthy level to me personally, as a person.”

“Wait, so have you actually ever even talked to this girl?” Kuroo asked, and was faced with Bokuto widening his eyes. “Dude, you’ve gawked at her every single time we’ve gone, and you haven’t even talked to her?”

“I ordered a hot cocoa from her that one time-” Bokuto sighed, “I sound like a simp.”

“Bro, you aren’t a simp. What you are is stupid. How the hell are you going to work together with your statistics friends to recreate some random girls' work schedule but you all have a D in the class?”

“Listen-” Bokuto laughed. “Sora says that she has dyscalculia, and that the rest of us probably have it too. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, Kuroo. Sorry I can’t be a perfect chem major like you.” He teased, socking Kuroo in the arm. Kuroo winced slightly, then punched him back.

“Yeah, you have your strengths for sure.”

“Okay, so I’m probably gonna actually talk to her today.”

“Wow, making big boy moves.” Kuroo laughed, “Where’s this coming from?”

“I can’t tell if it’s fake confidence or adrenaline!” Bokuto shrugged. “Both work!”

Once they entered the cafe, the familiar smell of coffee beans, warmth, and just a tinge of something else hit Bokuto and made him so much more nervous. Why should he be nervous? He was hot. He was sexy. He was 6’2 of big beefy muscle and fat ass, he shouldn’t be afraid of rejection!

But then he saw her. __ hair pulled back into two pigtail french braids as she politely took a stoners order at the counter. He finally got to see her eyes, they were __, pretty __ eyes and the cutest little smile and this cute little way her nose scrunched up when she did-

Kuroo was laughing at him. Kuroo was doubled over Bokuto’s shoulder, absolutely wheezing at him, and Bokuto no longer knew how to feel.

“Bro, not cool!”

“You’re just-” Kuroo started cackling, his signature loud witch cackle, and Bokuto felt his face flush red. The pretty barista made eye contact with him at the sound of Kuroo’s laugh, cocked an eyebrow, then went back to her order. The butterflies promptly returned to his stomach.

“The way you looked at her bro-” Kuroo hiss whispered. “Priceless.”

“Get your shit together dude, you gotta be my wingman!”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Kuroo managed to choke out between laughs. “This is too much.”

“You’re horrible! I can’t be my own wingman! How am I supposed to hype myself up without looking like a complete jackass-”

Before Bokuto could finish, he realized that they were next up to order. Pretty __ Eyes looked at him and cocked her head, a shy, playful smile crossing her cheeks.

“Hi there! How can I help you today?” She chirped. Awh, even her customer service voice was adorable, he thought to himself. He sighed, trying to suppress a goofy smile on his face. Somehow, Kuroo got it together enough to stammer out, “Hey, hi, yeah, can I get uhhhh… iced latte with oat milk and vanilla flavoring please?” like a dork would.

Bokuto was so caught up thinking about how the prettiest girl in the world was somehow working at a cafe and not walking the runway, and why Kuroo would order something with oat milk out of all things, to even realize that he had to order next. Before he could snap out of his daze, he heard Kuroo laugh.

“Sorry about my friend. When he was born, all his brain cells were converted into sexy instead.”

The barista covered her mouth with her hand to suppress a laugh, and Bokuto felt a hot blush run up his neck. He would’ve punched Kuroo in the arm, but figured he had to keep his cool.

“I-” The barista giggled, not even trying to hold back her laugh. “I mean, yeah, good for him?”

“Oh yeah.” Kuroo leaned his arm up on the counter. There was nobody else behind them, and Kuroo knew what he was doing. “I mean look at the guy. Seventy four inches of pure, raw sex. Do you like volleyball?”

At this point, Pretty __ Eyes was borderline hysterics. Bokuto was starting to think Kuroo was less of a wingman and more of his own, personal jester.

“Yeah, I played in high school.” She responded. Cute, and played volleyball? Bokuto just felt the blush just hotter.

“Yeah, this guy right here, Owlboy Sexyman, he was the fourth best ace in the country, don’t you know. Fukurodani’s captain.”

“Oh wow, you guys went to Fukurodani?”

“Nah, just him. I’m not even a fragment of how cool Mr. Sexyman here is.” Kuroo pointed at him with his thumb, then shook his head. “And he has a fat ass.”

She laughed, and shook her head.

“And does Owlboy Sexyman want anything today?”

At this point, Bokuto couldn’t hide his blush. He knew if he opened his mouth to start talking, he would end up sounding like a dog toy.

So he just stood there.

Kuroo sighed, and kicked him in the shin, which caused him to jump.

“Seems like he’s just too damn sexy today! No brain cells in sight. He’ll take a large iced hot chocolate with extra whip.”

“Sounds great.” She giggled. “Since you guys literally just made my whole shift, I’m gonna give you twenty percent off today.”

“Thank you, you’re a doll.”

When they stepped aside to pay for their drinks, Bokuto burst out laughing. Kuroo looked down at him, and choked back another cackle.

“Did you like what I did there?”

“You-” Bokuto snorted, “Are so fucking stupid.”

“Ah, it’s my specialty.”

“That definitely did not work at all. If anything, she probably likes you from that whole show you put on.”

“Nah, she didn’t look interested in me. Worst case scenario, at least we made a pretty girl laugh at your expense!”

“Yeah, I guess.” Bokuto shrugged.

“Iced latte for Kuroo!” Pretty __ Eyes called out, then handed the drink gingerly over to him. He took a dramatic sip, then sighed.

“Hits the spot.”

“How the heck do they even… milk an oat.” Bokuto muttered, and Kuroo shrugged.

“I dunno. How do they milk almonds?”

“Do almonds have boobs?” Bokuto asked, a little bit too loud.

“Iced hot chocolate for Owlboy Sexyman!”

The moment she announced this, Bokuto wheezed, and Kuroo spit his coffee out in the most violent, dramatic, and cartoonish way possible. Bokuto didn’t know whether or not to keep laughing, or start crying. Kuroo had iced coffee dribbling down his neck like a toddler, but even he himself couldn’t stop laughing.

Bokuto looked up to see Pretty __ Eyes hunched over the serving station convulsing as well. Bokuto walked over to her, and bowed his head in shame, all while laughing.

“I am so-”

“Who the hell are you two!” She stammered between giggles. Bokuto noticed her eyes were brighter when she laughed. He had managed to stop laughing but the smile on his face only grew. She was beautiful and he had no idea how to handle it.

“I am so, so sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” She shook her head. “Your friend has to clean that up, because I’m definitely not going to.”

“He will, he will. “Bokuto looked back over at Kuroo, who was still laughing to himself hysterically, his face buried in his hands. “I promise we’re not on drugs.”

“Hey, it’s college. No judgement.” She smiled, Her fingertips brushed his as she handed him his drink. He noticed that she had scribbled her number on the side of the cup, and the dying blush on his face returned. His mouth gaped a little bit, then he looked back up at her.

“My name is not actually Owlboy Sexyman.”

“I would hope not.” She smiled. “I’m __, by the way.”

“I’m Bokuto.”

“Bokuto.” She repeated, then smiled. “We should hang out sometime. I don’t know many other people around here who play volleyball.”

“Oh, wow, I-” Bokuto nodded and smiled, looking a little bit dumb as he did. “That’s awesome! That’s great! That’s great.”

“See you around then?” She cocked her head. Bokuto nodded a little bit too aggressively.

“I’ll see you around!”

__ shot him one last smile before she turned around and walked back to the order counter. Bokuto sighed a deep sigh, and sat back down next to Kuroo, whose shirt was covered in spit and coffee.

“Dude, you did it.”

Kuroo looked up at him from his hands, and smiled.

“Shit, I would hope so, because this oat milk is fucking disgusting.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! headcanons #Bokuto Koutarou #Kuroo Tetsurou #bokuto koutarou x reader

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

Whitmore guy - the boy in a shirt with a bat

Part One

Part Two

Kai Parker x fem!Reader slowburn

whatever gifs I’m going to use on this one, I hope the creators are okay with that

The Mystic Falls team decide they want to get rid of Kai Parker for good - and in a way that would ensure he won’t be able to come back. Death is not secure enough this time, so they go with Malivore. Who knows what the poor bastard is doing down there, but six months later, a new guy comes to work at the college - and meets the reader seemingly for the first time.

word count: 2987 ish

warnings: none

music: blink-182 - down, blink-182 - always, green day - the last of the american girls; Y/N quotes don’t leave me by - you guessed it - blink-182

MAY

Y/N was almost done. Almost-almost done, and the clock was only showing half past seven. It’s still half an hour until full sunset, and she has every chance to wrap it up and go rush to the football field in the town, perch herself on the seats and watch.

It’s just that all the troubles of all the Whitmore students were hanging like dead weight on her, and realistically, if she worked all day, every day, with a five hour sleep, and a twenty minutes lunch break, Christmas included, she would finish reading and delegating all student complaints and applications by the year 2098.

She threw herself back in the chair and pressed her palms against her eyes, letting the green specks poke the darkness. Then she realized that the music she’s been hearing for the last hour wasn’t playing in her head – the sound has been coming from the outside world.

Y/N opened her eyes and listened. Yup, she was sure it was her own brain because nobody’s listened to that reeeally old stuff in years. There’s just nobody left in the whole state of Virginia who’s openly a blink-182 fan.

She jumped up from her chair excitedly, happiness striking in her head like a flare gun; somebody was listening to their song! At the college! Somewhere on the floor! And it wasn’t her!

Y/N left her office and walked down the quiet corridor, following the sound like a thread. What a song it was, too.

Tidal waves they rip right through me

Tears from eyes worn cold and sad

Pick me up now…

The epic teenage angst made you want to go get all the bad tattoos you could possibly spend your money on.

Y/N knew she loved that song some time ago, but couldn’t remember why. It pulled on a surprisingly sturdy thread in her heart and made it bleed in a second; like she was a teenager again, like she was on the verge of a breakdown, and the whole world was full of amazement and bursting, vivid sensations.

Y/N almost ran to the sound, holding her lip between her teeth and never noticing it. Her face was lit with anticipation as she paused in front of the door. Somebody was playing music in the gatherings hall, where the acoustics were crazy, and all the space all but welcomed all kinds of dancing, prancing and hopping. The song ended, and another started to play; and yet she knew it again.

It went like this:

I’ve been here before a few times,

And I’m quite aware we’re dying…

Y/N pushed the door and it gave. She saw the hall, lit by all the lamps, although she was quite sure that the maintenance had already turned everything off except her office.

A guy was crouching on the floor next to the window, and a big sports bag was lying at his feet. Weird, he looked like a schoolboy, and the next second he stood up and she saw he was a young man. The guy didn’t seem to notice her at first, so Y/N had a couple of seconds to stare at the stranger. He was all jumpy, tall, boyish in a way; his dark hair was a little messed up, as he probably ruffled it with his hands; she’s never seen him here before. Being the welfare office worker, Y/N knew pretty much everyone in this huge place, - which was scary, by the way, - but this one was probably new. She couldn’t really place him neither with students nor with the staff. So she just placed him with the good music lovers. She already liked this dude. He was wearing a grey shirt with a stupid drawing of a cartoonish bat, green blood spilling out of its mouth. And Converses. Again, who still wears Converses in Whitmore or Mystic Falls?

He looked up, watching her for a second, and then waved his hand. They couldn’t really hear each other over the music, but the guy still said something. Y/N motioned towards his portable speaker which was spitting out the fast chords and energetic drumming. That was the best. That was the best song in the world, and she was almost sorry when the bat guy ran towards the speaker and turned the volume down.

“Hey- woah, I didn’t realize there was somebody alive here!” he exclaimed.

“Are you having a party?” she asked instead of a hello. They stared at each other for a mere second before letting out the air from their lungs.

“Does that bother you?”

“No way. I was drawn here like a rat by a flute. Man, I haven’t heard Blink on speakers or even on the radio, for ages”.

He smiled, and Y/N melted. The guy was approaching her slowly, walking like he owned the place. His smile was white, and his eyes, in contrast, seemed completely black, but, as he came closer, she saw they were dark blue. It’s just his pupils - so enlarged they covered almost everything, trying to devour his eye. He sure looked like he was high.

Something hit her, and backed off immediately. There was something about him, something weird, outlandish, not Mystic Falls at all, neither Whitmore, but hey. Everything in the closest vicinity of Mystic Falls is completely consumed by its spores. Everything was Mystic Falls color, the people, the nature, and the college; people spoke, walked and loved in such a way that you could tell they all come from the same place, full of scandals and vampires.

This dude, though. He looked a bit mad, Y/N reckoned, his wide smile never touched his dark eyes, and they shone with something that made her look just a little too long. He smelled like trouble. After all these years she’s been rubbing elbows with all kinds of bad, Y/N could tell who’s what. She could tell a beast when she met one. Vampires looked different to her, call it intuition or habit.

But this dude… he just looked different. He was like ink, like milk, like blood. His face looked perfect all-American beautiful, with lean triangle chin and strong jaw line. And yet, it was crooked somehow. He looked youthful, but the look about him said old. The fact that he was keeping silent a second too long, was standing an inch too close, looking at her too closely, all said trouble. It was blinding how quick she felt all that, in a flash, and against all odds, she smiled.

She didn’t know what he was.

“Ha, you’re staring”, he said, amused.

“Dude, I’m trying to remember if I’d seen you before”.

His sharp eyebrows, like two eagle wings, were drawn together in mocking concentration.

“Well. Have you?” There was an inviting smirk on his lips, showcasing two things: he had a very nice mouth. And. There was a reason enough to keep distance.

“No. I have excellent memory for faces”.

He shrugged like nothing in his easy, carefree life, mattered.

“Yeah, me neither. This is the first time my eyes are on you”.

“Wow”, she nodded, “you’re weird enough”.

“I’ve been said that”.

“How dangerous are you?”

“Uhm…” he pretended to ponder, poking his chin with his right index finger. Y/N saw a large steel ring on it, with a pretty, strange scattering of tiny dark dots. A very unusual marking, too, but she said nothing. He had a face of a TV star. She could very well picture him in a sitcom with a lame title like “My crazy family”, in which he would be the geeky, but sexy, smart oldest son of a little bit absent-minded parents.

“Like… eight out of fourteen. I’ve been to a camp once… it was a type of… you know, like a summer camp?”

Y/N found she had to actually focus to follow his thought. She looked straight at him attentively, feeling bright magenta giggle rising inside of her.

“Uh-huh. The Crystal Lake type? Or the Sleepaway Camp?”

“Get out!” he exclaimed, stretching his vowels. They laughed exactly at the moment for Billie Joe to yell about the Last of the American Girls.

“No, more like a concentration camp”, he offered, “but like, you’re alone there, so you have to do all the torturing yourself”.

“God’s sake, what kind of camp was it?”

“I literally just told you”, he replied with a pause, and his articulate face went blank. Y/N couldn’t hold off a sniff. She felt like she was a bit drunk, but that was more of overworking, late evening, lots of coffee and that everlasting feeling of despair one gets upon realizing that work will never end.

“Anyway, I learnt a lot of useful stuff there”, the boy said, “how to start a fire, how to make a knot, you know, the type you’re not getting out of, ever. A-and, like, how to make stakes out of sticks”.

Alert reddened Y/N skull from the inside. She tilted her head. Reading him was in vain. This dude was misty, he was shut off like a persona that’s uncrackable simply because it never really existed.

“What for?”

“Oh, you know, grilled sausages and stuff”.

She reprimanded herself silently for being a basket case. Yeah, sure. Grilled sausages, and only then – killing vampires; that’s how it works in the normal world.

“What about you?” he asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“How dangerous are you?”

“Ow, extremely. I mean, look at me”.

She stretched out her arms, displaying herself (like a complete sellout, she thought. There goes the very first male who listens to Green Day and blink-182 and you’re already opening your ribcage for him, what a piece of work).

Diligently, the guy took a step back to get a better view. It was all very comical, with a very characteristic soundtrack.

“I am really looking, and I have thoughts. What exactly do you mean?”

“Small. Disproportional limbs. Frail muscles. Do you see? Very angry as a result. Very angry all my life. So, very dangerous”.

He smiled joyfully, wide, bright sparkles exploding in the dark of his eyes.

“I got it. Not gonna piss you off. Actually, I guess, since I’m new here, I should bond with the strong ones, right? I’ll be working as your computer guy. You need something fixed, so that you owe me a favor and don’t kill me when you get mad?”

Y/N scratched her temple, thinking if she needed anything in her laptop fixed. Ridiculously, there was something.

“Funny you should ask. I have the stupidest problem… I… what’s your name again?”

“Oh, my manners”, the guy sighed gravely, and outstretched his hand, “Mal. And you..?”

She considered his palm for a second before shaking it. A light buzz stung her which she barely noticed. Mal’s shirt was probably all synthetic fabric. She told him her name, and he gave a nod.

“Are you really an IT guy?”

“Why would I lie?” he asked, puzzled. He pointed behind his back, turning a little:

“You see that wall? I’m tearing out the old wiring right now. That’s why I’m here so late. Tomorrow you’re gonna have new wi-fi, with the dopest name and the password you’ll never guess”.

Y/N could instantly think of a thousand passwords that were puns for punk rock songs’ names. She abstained from vocalizing them all immediately.

“Alright then”.

“What stupid problem are you having? Have you tried to…” his eyebrows moved suggestively, like he was about to say something R-rated. “…you know?”

“Nah, it’s with the browser. The default search engine is Yahoo for some reason, and I hate Yahoo with burning passion… I’ve no idea how to make it Google again”.

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah. I’m the college sociologist, not a bloody programmer”.

Mal couldn’t help laughing. He headed for the doors, hopping a little in the rhythm of the song.

“Perhaps I made a mistake in detecting you as one of the leaders of this pride”, he mumbled, “where’s your office? You’re the sociologist here?”

Y/N followed him into the corridor.

“Yup”.

“What exactly does it mean?”

“If they need somebody to listen to how they’re closeted gays, I listen. If they need me to fill out the forms for their loans, I fill them out. If teachers had a party the night before and can’t come in now because they’re hungover, I come in instead and take their classes. If…”

“Gee, how much do they pay you for that?”

Y/N felt her face move, all parts of it separately. Just thinking about it was unnerving. But that’s the job she asked for. That’s the responsibility she’d grown into. She’d been a teacher herself for some time, and then got tired of the creative pressure of coming up with the new ways of explaining one thing every day; she thought this position would bring some diversity in her everyday thinking style. She was being silly. However, when she realized she was worked up, it also brought a strange taste of satisfaction in a way that she was giving all of her, and her conscience was clear. She explained all that to Mal. Then she pushed her door and they found themselves in her darkened office. The first pink flames of raspberry sunset were trying the sky.

“Damn it”, she swore, “I’m late for sunset again”. How the fuck long did she spend in the gatherings hall?!

“You like watching it?”

“Sure. It’s like the doorframe syndrome, have you heard about it?”

Mal smiled, sprinting to her laptop that’s been waiting for her on the desk, abandoned.

“Oh yeah”, he sneered, “I was just thinking about it, but then I entered this room and forgot”.

Y/N sat in the armchair on the opposite side of her desk, thinking to herself, he’s probably gonna die really soon. Like Brandon, the last interesting dude she’d met in Mystic Falls back when she was on the haul, working at the Grill. Brandon was the best bartender the place had ever seen in its prolonged history, and he was also very clearly interested in Y/N, too. They worked together a lot, and drank at night even more. They got to know each other pretty well, which made it even worse when someone came in, in the broad daylight, and broke his neck. Just when Y/N thought that the Mystic Falls curse has been lifted and normal people could feel safe. It’s been two years, or even more, since then, and now she sat there, cynical and certain, that such a cool dude like Mal wouldn’t last here long. The place consumes people like him – those who wake up her desire to live again.

“Oh-kay, I’ll just close all this porn here”, Mal looked at the screen. Y/N has been writing a report when she heard the music, and left the document open. “You wanna Google by default?”

“Yes”.

“Come here and learn while I’m alive”, Mal said solemnly, not noticing the look she gave him, stunned at the sinister coincidence of thinking.

She circled the desk and stood at his shoulder. Mal smelled of candy (literally this time), so sweet it was almost suffocating. Did he fucking rub it in his hair?! Y/N thought of tricksters casually, the Scandinavians like Loki, whose only downfall was in that extra sweet smell of all kinds of sugar poison that gave them away. Could Mal be a malevolent spirit, luring her into a trap? What’s he gonna do? Eat her insides?

“Are you looking?”

“Yes”.

“It’s two seconds. See?”

“Oh”.

Mal turned to her in her own armchair like he owned it and looked up without a shade of awkwardness.

“You seriously didn’t know how to do that? I don’t even need to be an IT specialist to be able to fix that”.

“What are you getting at?” Y/N barked defensively. She prided herself in not understanding anything about computers, like it made her old in a wise way.

“I gotta tell you before we kick it off – I have a girlfriend”.

Y/N digested it for a second.

“Oh, you smug face”, she spat out, “you think I’m hitting on you?”

“I mean…” his innocent-wild eyes acted very well.

“I don’t know shit about this computer crap, I thank God every day I manage to even turn it on…”

“You’re cool and very nice, but…”

“I don’t hit on people”, Y/N banged herself in the chest, “people hit on me”.

Mal puffed with laughter, still looking up.

“Okay, sorry. I’ve never met anyone like you. Quiet so… helpless”.

“There. Don’t you ever assume…”

“We’re gonna be friends though, right?”

Y/N shrugged.

“Sure. Emos gotta stick together, or else we commit unspeakable things. Now, get out of my office”.

“I prefer to think of myself as a broke-free treasure hunter, thank you very much”.

Mal was smiling like a cunning happy brat as he walked out of the door. He stopped half way, catching himself on the handle. Having crossed the line of the doorframe, he must have recalled something.

“What did you say about the sunsets? And the syndrome?”

“Oh, yeah”, Y/N uttered, propping herself back at the computer. She could feel evening migraine coming, together with the song blasting and echoing from the hall down the corridor. “When I see that, you know, the bloody pink when it’s just ending, I feel like I’m remembering something I’d forgotten. It’s a weird feeling. Kind of like a déjà vu backwards. You ever had that?”

Mal blinked, thinking. Seriously, this time. Looking at him, Y/N decided, that yes, they were going to be friends. He was making her feel something. Something good about all this job, and all that was in her past. All that she thought she outgrew. He was clear, black and white, sturdy, holding on to her door like he was keeping it in place.

“You have to have your head checked, Y/N. It might be terminal…”

“Get out, Mal. Don’t let my door hit your ass”.

“Jesus, you’re really obsessed with blink-182, aren’t you?”

Y/N felt no shame.

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #vampire diaries #imagine #whitmore guy

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soyouareandrewdobson · 4 years

Text

Alex ze Pirate Mini Review 5: Why I love One Piece and my final verdict

(Warning. Post contains initial geek out about One Piece that is meant to correlate to my opinion on Alex in general)

When I started this series of posts, one thing I asked myself was, how could I sum up my problems with the Sam story while also tackling some general issues with AzP without redundantly repeating major points of my previous posts.

… So I decided instead of giving a straight answer, I would first tell you how I came to fall in love with One Piece.

Around 14+ years ago, I began reading manga, with works such as Ranma 1/2, Pokemon and Dragon Ball being my starting point. You know, the average stuff everyone had read at some point. One Piece, already back then consisting of over 25+ volumes, was only something a friend started to lend me and I read the first seven volumes, not really quite getting why it was that popular. I did not hate what I read, but there was nothing outright standing out to me the way the story was told that got to me. And then I hit the Arlong arc with volume 8 and onwards. While it was mostly the adventure of Luffy with his crew against Crocodile and his Baroque Corporation that totally sold me on the manga later on, the Arlong arc was what really got my attention. Seeing the character of Nami betray her friends, pieces of worldbuilding that would years later play a role and so much more, made me curious where things were going. Particularly, why Nami would betray Luffy. And when I reached chapter 77 to 81, where I got to read Nami’s backstory, how Arlong killed her adoptive mother in front of her eyes when she was just a little kid and Luffy declaring he was going to help her and her village, I was hooked. This was the first time in my life as a manga reader, I was not just entertained, I was emotionally invested. Because not only was Nami’s backstory genuinely saddening to me, but seeing Luffy determined to help her and the ensuing battles was exciting. Exciting because it truly showed to me, how awesome of a character this goofball with stretching powers really is. Not because he was physically strong, but because he was willing to do all of that for someone just “because” he considers that person a friend. Seeing Luffy not just beat up Arlong, but destroying everything this bastard had build on the suffering of the village and in doing so setting Nami free of the past that haunted her, because he cared for her as a person not in a romantic but platonic manner, was satisfying on so many levels.

And ever since then Eiichiro Oda proved to me time and time again, even if he hits a bump in the road (seriously, fuck most of the Fishmen Island arc) he knows how to write a world that doesn’t just manage to be cartoonishly entertaining, but also filled with heartfelt moments, where true heroism is not defined just by physical strength, but the willingness of the main characters to help and care for each other and the people they meet across the journey. There are many stories out there where the power of friendship as a virtue, and the virtues it is build on are a theme. But in the world of shonen manga, One Piece for me is still the top.

And Andrew Dobson’s Alex ze Pirate is the complete antithesis to everything Oda EVER created in One Piece.

While One Piece has one of the most complex worlds I have ever seen in fiction, with Oda often times setting building stones for future story arcs years in advance (seriously, the thing with Brook and Laboon alone is worth mentioning) , Dobson can’t even bother to properly tell us in what part of the ocean Alex has her adventure or why there is a beaver dog thing walking around a bunch of humans.

While One Piece has some gorgeous artwork and unique designs with an insane level of cartoonish detail, Dobson has some very generic designs and draws like a 15 year old girl that read Spirou and manga too much and now starts doing scribble artwork.

While Oda draws chapters for over 20 years now, Dobson could not even bother to finish up the adventure of the crew getting properly together back in 2004, as only one volume was released.

While One piece tells a story that defines the shonen genre for over a decade, Dobson tells stupid newspaper strip jokes that are not even interconnected much.

While Oda’s Strawhats are the embodiment of the word nakama, Dobson’s characters only bring the following old saying to mind:

With friends like this, who needs enemies?

Bottom line, Alex ze Pirate is absolute garbage as a work of entertainment, particularly in the world of kids entertainment. It was so already long before Dobson wrote the three part story I reviewed in detail, but this story in my opinion was for anyone with a bit of brains the last nail in the coffin. Cause overall, this was likely Dobson’s last chance in his and the eyes of the readers.

The last chance, because he was going to put all his talent as a writer and artist into this one story to prove his critics wrong; That he could tell an engaging and emotionally fulfilling story in a multi part story, longer than his 15 pagers. But like with everything else I have seen so far, he failed.

He failed artistically, because damn does this not look even remotely professional compared to other professionally published work or even other silly webcomics like Cludscratcher or Housepets (which I highly recommend you to read).

He failed as a storywriter, because instead of emotionally engaging and well paced, this shit is rushed, works more on “tell, don’t show” than anything else and really just magnifies the worst aspects of his characters and Dobson’s mean spirited humor in general. Cause this is not a tale where we feel like Sam genuinely has found a family and friends in Alex and her crew. It is the tale of Sam just accepting that he has nothing better going on in his life.

He failed, because instead of actually putting care, effort and love for his characters and work into this, he likely just wanted to get it out and hope that just because he “put effort” into this more than usual, he would already get praise by default.

And once this thing was out, all that happened was the following: Even more people realized what kind of hack he is, that this project was not going to be salvaged even if actual stories instead of strip based jokes are told and he misinterpreted the disinterest as reason to just completely give up, instead of trying harder.

And as a result, even if Dobson still went on to do shitty redesigns and a few more pages for it, Alex ze Pirate soon after ended. Put into everlasting hiatus, where it joins such work as Pilote Candidate or Frank Millers All Star Batman and Robin.

Dobson, if you ever read this, let me just say it how it is: You failing to make even the most basic story about people appreciating their friends, particularly when within the last decade there has been an entire fandom of manchildren out there that was build on a show with “Friendship is Magic” in the title, just shows how bad of a storyteller and creator you are. You shouldn’t have gone to college in order to become an animator, you should have joined fanfiction.net in order to get some basic understanding on how to even write. Cause your writing is so bad, it makes fanfiction look genuinely complex and thoughtful. Well that and you should perhaps go out and find genuinely friends and not just online supporters that mistake you for some persecuted innocent artist, when in reality you are just a toxic idiot who attempts to manipulate people so he can profit of them and their fleeting interest in his substandard comics based on the lowest common denominator cartoons.

I wrap this review up. We will revisit Alex one day again, but for now, I just want to focus on something more positive. So within the next weeks, if I post something, I will try to make it focused on something NOT Dobson related. You know, stuff to genuinely enjoy. Till then, I just want to say thank you. Thank you @hypocricyofandrewdobson for reblogging my entries. Thank you to everyone who liked this, reblogged this or started to follow me because of it. I hope I managed to educate and entertain you all in a positive manner, without making myself come off too much like an assholish nerd with too many interests. Stay safe.

And hey, if any of you has his own two cents on Sam, Alex or the others, even ideas how to make them genuinely better, I am always open.

See ya.

#andrew dobson #syac #so you are a cartoonist #one piece #webcomic #comics #western animation #tom preston #adobsonartwork

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kob131 · 3 years

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Fair point. I'll say then, Cinder backstory was full of badly done clichés, like the Evil Stepmother was just ludacris in her pettiness, so were her stepdaughters. With the mud scene? Also, there's slavery now? Like, in the timeline just a couple years from show's present? Also, child abuse in Remnant kinda clashes a lot with what the world logically should look like but that's true for a ton of things. The showdown was just as silly.

We saw the two train together for 20 seconds and I had zero connection to them, nor any sympathy. Cinder's abuse doesn't justify the much shittier things she has been doing and the guy's reasoning seems to be finding a girl planning murder and he proceeds to train her to be a good one and hope she's not gonna kill her abusers she was already wanting to kill, while otherwise not doing shit to improve her situation that drove her to murderous intent the first place.

I also find abuse showed like this to be quite less effective, it's just so over the top and pointless from the pov of the abuser, it's just comes off as "milking it". The first episode of Attack on Titan comes to mind, with the main dude watching her mum, being killed in slow motion. I was laughing, just as I was laughing at the abusers here. It also doesn't explain how she went with Salem or why she put up with her abusing her the exact same way.

It's similar to the way this episode went and tried to justify RWBY's win over the ACE-OPS. They got criticized and thought to address it. I think it was hamfisted and not very believable. Or Penny's explanation of Ruby's semblance, or the fact it was news to RWBY. I think reason these things stick out like a sore thumb is because they are a rectionary insert into the story they don't neccesserily need to put them in. I definetly prefer a vague semblance or an implied backstory to this.

Okay, first- Thank you for actually saying something this time. I can actually address this.

Tl;Dr- A lot of this seems cartoonish but there are real world examples, details that change the context of things and even the very purpose of the backstory changes things.

I actually see where you’re coming from. Not hard to see it, I just need an explanation to be sure. But that doesn’t mean I fully agree with you here: that mud scene is a common one in media used to make the job of the child who cleans harder. Yes it seems absurdly petty...but considering the shit I went through at a similar age with bullies in a permissive school for less, I can’t exactly call this unrealistic (after all, why would the sisters not take out their frustrations and get a sense of power over someone they think can’t fight back and they won’t get punished over it.)

Same with the stepmother actually- A lot of adults don’t treat their kids humanely or use them as an outlet for their own frustrations or, again, control. I know it looks cartoonish...but for a non child/parent example- I watched a reddit stories video where a guy recollects that his dad used a generator to light up the basement instead of powering his dying mom’s ventalitor. ... Yeah, I can definitely see this pettiness. I think the issue is that like how Cinder was before, we don’t know why the stepmother is this way so it’s harder to buy in some cases.

The ‘slavery’ thing...issue there is we don’t actually know if this IS slavery. After all, going to the Cindrella story- she wasn’t a slave. She was TREATED as a slave while technically being a family member. A stupid distinction...until you remember that since the abuse that Cinder suffers that would be considered illegal (the shocking and lack of food) is done in private, there’s nothing to point to that would give anyone cause to question things. Even Cinder’s attempted murder could just be an issue with her as a person (I...would know).

As for the Cinder thing- That’s actually WHY I brought up Azula. Because unlike Zuko, Azula was never EXCUSED for her actions. Her backstory only EXPLAINED her actions. Judging from how RT does redemptions, Cinder is lacking the regret and hesitation that is usually present.

And for Rhodes...well, look back on the scenes he was in and the scenes with the extreme amount of abuse (aka the shocking). He’s never around for the extreme examples, just the ones that look like an overly strict parent and douchy siblings. And yes, I know Cinder could have told him and it seems like she should...but speaking from personal experience, people don’t tend to talk about things that hurt them that much. They’re more likely to hide it and bottle it up. And while you could suspect

I also get the Rhodes training Cinder thing seems counterproductive and the issue is mainly with not fully establishing Rhodes as a character. The thought process behind this was probably that, due to the show’s themes and tone, it’d be accepted that Rhodes would just believe in the best from Cinder. After all, Huntsmen have been portrayed, at worst, as well meaning but selfish dunces. And Rhodes’ empathy would put him at the positive end of the end

As for the effectiveness angle....that’s so subjective that it’s hard to argue. You can’t account for everyone’s reactions with making a piece of media. All I can say is with Salem: listen to what she says when Cinder’s arm is thrashing about. She’s portraying herself as thinking she’s wrong and that she’s gonna help Cinder. Something Rhodes genuinely thought with her. Salem’s targeting her need for validation just like Cinder targeted Emerald’s.

And that last stuff...yeah dude, I completely agree with you on a personal level there.

Overall, the stuff with Cinder probably seems cartoonish because, while situations like Cinder’s DO exist in real life... you’re not likely to see one. After all, while it does exist in real life- it’s still an extreme. You likely won’t see them personally and the examples you DO see are leaders or big figures who get simplified down to ‘born evil’ like Hitler (NOT excusing his actions). But yeah, people do end up this way through similar situations.

While many things in life would interrupt this process and create a different result: like a roll of the dice, things will evitably go tits up eventually. Just that with the nature of stories: we’ll always see the result unlike real life where most of them die with no impact on the world like most people.

You’ve got good reason to think that way...but there’s good reason why the opposite extreme exists.

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nemo1230 · 4 years

Text

Promises worth a lifetime

"Richie, slow the fuck down, man, I can't breathe, jesus!" Eddie was panting and red in the face from being dragged by his arm by none other than Richie Tozier. Fucking hell.

Don't get him wrong, Eddie loves his boyfriend to death, and always will, but sometimes he can be real pain in the ass. Like right now, Richie arrived at Eddies house at four in the morning, banged on his window like a proper gentleman that he is, without so much as a word drove him somewhere in his rusty 1978 Ford Mustang II that smelled like cigarettes and air freshener that Eddie had desperately sprayed, using at least half of the bottle, gotten out, grabbed Eddies arm and started dragging him into the woods.

"Eddie, sweetheart, please, hold on a little longer, we don't have much time left!" Richie shouted infront of him, sounding a bit out of breath himself. His black curls were bouncing slightly with each step he took, and Eddie might have gotten a bit hypnotized by that if he didn't feel like his lungs were on fire.

"Late for what?? And where in the ever-lasting hell are we? Why in the name of god are we in the woods in four in the god damn morning? Are you trying to get us killed? Because I swear to god, if we die, I'll personally bring myself and you back to life just so I can kill you again, Tozier, and that's a promise!" He tried to sound threatening but the many short intakes of breath ruined it. He run his free hand trough his hair and felt that some sweat had already formed on his forehead. It was the very crack of dawn yet he didn't feel cold at all, despite the cool early morning air. He was only in his pajamas pants and one of Richies big t-shirts, this one saying "want some sax?" With a cartoonish drawing of a saxophone. It's so fucking stupid, since none of them even plays saxophone, but the t-shirt is big and soft and smells like Richie, okay.

Richie just briefly looked back at him, flashing him a toothy grin. "Babe, patience, you'll get it once we're there."

Eddie decided that this really was a losing fight, so he shut up, letting Richie lead him wherever that big dumbass had planned, instead focusing all his attention to the ground, since he had tripped at least 5 times already.

They half-jogged for some time before Richies voice rung trough the still silence of the morning. "We're here Eds!"

Eddie practically jumped, too deep in thought to pay any mind to their surroundings. "Where..." He trailed off, finally looking up and seeing where they were. Turns out Richie somehow had found a hill, that was surrounded by the woods, but leaving a small field in the front empty. In the distance, by the bottom of the hill, the whole city of Derry could be seen. It wasn't one of the most breathtaking views, since Derry was quite small, no big buildings, no flashy traffic, just a few lonely houses, cramped closely together. In a few windows a faint light could be seen, people getting ready for the day. But mostly what made Eddies breath get caught in his throat was the sunrise - a slight blur of pink and orange light, right by the horizon, and the morning mist that seemed to be wrapped round the whole city, giving a surreal undertone to all of it.

"Do you like it? I brought a blanket, we can sit down, if you want." Richie brought Eddie out of his short moment of being completely consumed of the scene that unraveled beneath and above them.

"Yeah, okay." he said, still feeling a bit dazed. Richie got out the blanket from his backpack, layed it out, and gestured for Eddie to sit down. "Your lair awaits you, sir." He said, doing a quite terrible british accent. But his smile was genuine, so Eddie only meant half of the shove that he directed at him, before sitting down, facing the sunrise.

Richie plopped down next to him, immediately lacing their fingers together. Eddie thought about how natural and easy now physical affection was to them; only a few months ago they were hesitant, all of their actions laced with uncertainty, how they were scared that even the smallest touch will break the whole thing in pieces. Now, however, they couldn't stop touching eachother, drawn to eachother, like magnets, never being able to be apart for too long. Maybe it was the fact that for so long they had repressed, hidden their want and need for eachother so much, that now that it's finally out and they know it's okay, the want and need has only intensified, leaving them never satisfied, always wanting more.

Eddie let his head fall onto Richies shoulder, deeply inhaling the scent that was so entirely his boyfriend. Richie rested his head on top of his, after kissing it tenderly.

Over them, the sunrise slowly bled into soft morning light, surrounding them in blushing shades of pink. Here, in each other's arms, they felt safe. In a way, it was a bit ironic, since technically the whole homophobic town was right in front of them, and here they were, two boys, openly showing affection, but it felt like the mist and first rays of sun were creating a safe haven for them, a bubble where only they and their love existed, no restrictions, a small, temporary salvation for the curse that was this god forsaken town.

"Richie?" Eddie whispered, not wanting to damage this still, quiet moment.

"Mm?" Came an illegible reply. He seemed to be deep in thought.

"Thank you. For bringing me here. Honestly, I needed that. Even though I am still a bit angry that you made me do this in four in the morning."

Richie squeezed their intertwined hands. "Anything for my Spaghetti!" He exclaimed, although being his usual annoying self, sounding genuinely happy that Eddie enjoyed this.

Eddie tried to fight off a smile while saying "Call me that again, and I'll push you off this hill."

Richie did a very over exaggerated gasp. "Eddie, my love! How could you say such things! My own lover!"

Eddie only snorted.

After a while, finally the coolness of the morning caught up to him and he shivered slightly.

Richie immediately felt it and lifted his head, looking at Eddie. "Oh shit, Eds, you cold?" He took both of Eddies hands and kneaded them with his, then shoved them right into the sleeves of his hoodie.

"Yeah, because someone decided it would be a good idea to sit on the ground at the very crack of dawn!" He grumbled, not really meaning it. He was glad that Richie took him here, but that didn't mean he couldn't complain a little.

"You love me." Came the replay, and then Richie proceeded to untangle their hands, remove his hoodie and throw it at Eddie.

Eddie caught it right on time, and schruched up his face in a frown. "How long ago did you last wash this?" he asked, while pulling it on.

Richie chuckled. "Dunno, maybe your mom washed it after one of my nightly visits to her."

"You're disgusting." Eddie stated, then pecked Richie on the lips. "Thank you. You sure you won't be cold?"

Richie smirked before replaying, "Nope, all I need is the burning love I have for your dear mother."

He rolled his eyes. His boyfriend is going to be the death of him. "Beep-beep, Richie. Jesus, how can a person be so fucking annoying."

"I do try my best, Eds."

Now Richie rested his head on Eddie's shoulder. Eddie exhaled, feeling content. Then he looked ahead, and finally saw the city more clearly, the fog had disappeared, taking with it the safe feeling that it had provided. It now put things in a perspective; the fact that they'll never be able to be together freely in this town, they will never be accepted, or even tolerated. It was like a punch in the gut, leaving Eddie out of breath. Suddenly he no longer could take this sudden overwhelming feeling so he blurted out, "Rich. Can you promise me something?"

Richie replied immediately. "Anything for you, babe."

"Promise me that we'll get out of here. That we'll leave this stupid fucking town and go as far away as we can. Please, can you promise me that?" He now felt tears stinging his eyes, vision getting a little blurry. He quickly tried to blink it away.

Richie then lifted his head from Eddies shoulder, taking his face in his hands. "Of course, Eds! We'll get out of here, all right! One day we'll start my car, pack our shit and leave. We'll go somewhere so far, that this shithole will feel like a bad dream, and nothing more. We can go to like LA or something. And we'll build a life together, just you and me, we'll get an apartment together, I could do comedy or something and you'll do something boring, yet something that's so you, that it will be fine, and we'll get a dog, or a cat, or both, who cares and we'll fucking be one of those disgusting couples that take pictures together all the time and our friends will tease us to death but we'll be so god damn happy that we won't care. Fuck, Eds, I'll marry the shit out of you, if they make it legal. I'll-"

But whatever else Richie wanted to promise him died on this tongue because Eddies was throwing himself at him, kissing him so fiercely that Richie almost fell back. They kissed and kissed, and kissed some more. Their kisses held promises worth a lifetime, they held so much love that they could barely handle it all.

They drew back, but still stayed close, foreheads tightly pressed together, panting in each others mouths.

Eddie took a breath and exhaled slowly. "Damn you, Tozier, and your never ending theatrics. I swear, I'll lose my mind one day because of you."

Richie laughed, but then slightly pulled back, to look into Eddie's eyes. "They're not theatrics though. I meant it all. I would marry you one day, if it would be possible."

Eddie couldn't stop the tears now escaping his eyes and he quickly looked away, to try to wipe them before quietly saying, "I would too. I'd marry the shit out of you too."

Richies eyes were glossy too now, yet he still reached forward and took his face in his hands, wiping away the rest of the tears. He had a tender smile on his face, a rare occurrence, since most of the time he preferred a smirk. He looked beautiful like this; all freckled cheeks, soft eyes, pink lips and wild hair.

"Damn, I've really hit the jackpot with you, haven't I, like what did I even do to deserve you," said Richie, while fixing his glasses.

"Yeah, whatever," Eddie snorted, while shoving him affectionately. "We should return soon. My mom will kill me if she finds that I'm not home."

The sun was already up, last shades of pink turning into light blue, the air already warming up a bit.

"Yeah," Richie agreed, but none them them made the move to leave. They were reluctant to leave this comfort that they've found in simply being with eachother.

They simply held eachother for some time, stretching out the time as long as possible.

At some point they did leave, hand in hand, until getting into the car and driving back. Richie drove Eddie home, and since it being so early, the streets were empty, so Eddie in lightning speed pecked Richie goodbye, got out of his car and sneaked back into his house.

One day they won't have to sneak around like that. One day they will be free, accepted, and loved.

One day.

#reddie #reddie au #reddie fic #eddie kaspbrak x richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it2017 #it chapter one #it movie #nemo writes

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ravens-shadows · 4 years

Text

I guess I’m updating my rant on Tom Riddle to an actual essay so be patient with me

I don’t even remember what I wrote last time lol but I wanted to do my full analysis now that I’m not in rage if that makes sense.

Let’s go by parts.

First, his parents.

So we are given Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Sr., and they tell us this woman just straight up drugged her crush and then expected him to stick around and love her? Like, she literally raped him. I can’t fucking blame him for just going back home and abandoning her, because that would be so traumatising. And what angers me the most about this, is that Rowling makes it seem like he was the bad guy because he ‘abandoned’ them. But all my issues with Rowling will have to wait for another day.

When Tom is born, he is raised in the orphanage, and it’s stated early on that he ‘does not have emotions’, and is ‘naturally evil’. But the thing is, was he really incapable of love just because he was conceived under the influence of amortentia? If he really had no love inside of him, by basic logic he wouldn’t have any other emotions, because is utterly ridiculous even by the standards of a magical world. In other words: he was capable of loving as much as any other child, the thing is, he wasn’t given the opportunity to learn how to love, which is precisely the whole basis of his character!

Growing up, he was looked down as the weird, abnormal kid, bullied both by the other kids in the orphanage and the adults too. And what the fuck are you supposed to do in the situation? There was no one to really explain how wrong the actions of those around him were, and kids absorb everything like sponges. In his eyes, their behaviour was normal, and therefore the way to avoid getting hurt was hurting them even worse. And let’s entertain for a moment the idea that love is the only emotion he didn’t have, which yet again, is portrayed ridiculously! Love had nothing to do with the situation he lived in. He could still felt fear and anger, and even guilt, but we were never showed that because, oh no, he’s the villain and he’s absolutely evil.

Dumbledore walks in. This. Fucking. Bitch.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who could have ended the war before Harry even started Hogwarts but didn’t because a stupid prophecy said so.

Dumbledore takes a look at this kid, after hearing a very biased opinion on him, and in that second he decides that this child is too far gone and can’t help him. And, of course, Tom is not stupid and he can see that Dumbledore doesn’t like him and he obviously will avoid him from now on and in consequence won’t trust any other adult.

And here is the worst part: even in a world where his magic isn’t rare, no one cares. The adults give a fuck about him, they never offer help. They know about the abuse he’s suffered for years and are doing nothing about it, so he starts making himself stronger. If only he was stronger, no one would hurt him again.

Then we get to the worst fuck up Rowling did with this wonderful character, because why, why in friggin hell, would he be afraid of death?

It doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t add up to everything that’s been building up in the background. He is sixteen at this point, asking about horrocruxes so obviously he is already looking for ways of staying alive, but it doesn’t make any sense! Sure, if he was an adult it would make more sense, but in this point in time there is absolutely no reason whatsoever for this ridiculous thing to pop up.

It doesn’t make sense that he wants to kill his father because he abandoned him, he would be angry and bitter but Tom is smart and being sane at this point would know that there is absolutely no point in doing it. It doesn’t make sense that he is afraid of an abstract construct that he probably doesn’t understand completely like any other teenager. It doesn’t make sense that he has plans of becoming a dark Lord at all, because in this point in time, he is in the middle of the war with Grindelwald, a war that started before he was even born, and wouldn’t finish until he was nineteen years old in 1945. Nothing makes sense (but hey, what can I expect from J.K. Rowling).

Anyway, let’s get going. Let’s imagine this makes sense despite being absolute shit, and he makes his horrocruxes.

Is should be widely known that he was fucking insane at this point. An horrocrux splits the soul in two, so he would have just have half of his soul before making the second one and so on.

From here on, his actions make more sense because he is not human anymore by any means, and he is completely bonkers, let’s face it. Mass homicide was expected to happen.

Now let me tell you why he is one of the best characters despite the author butchering him. Important to note that most people look to Harry as a survivor of abuse and I’m a 100% on board with it, but let’s not pretend their situations are in the same level.

Proof 1: Tom is an abuse survivor too, and in many ways I think it was possible he would have been killed if it wasn’t for his magic, a magic he knew he had and used. In other circumstances, he would have ended up in a similar situation to Credence. His actions are seen to be evil, but the main point of his whole character and this is stated, is that he acts in anger, pain and fear. He is afraid. And in the correct way of telling his story, his fear is justified. He is afraid because despite being ‘special’, people still cast him out. His fear is not the fear of death that was sold to us, is the fear that no one will ever feel the slightest empathy for him, that no one will ever understand how it feels like. His pain comes from being treated like a monster, by not receiving any kindness in his whole life, because even after Hogwarts he had no friends, just followers fascinated by his natural power and talent.

Proof 2: Tom’s ‘inability to love’ is simply the fact that he does not know what is love. How could he? He’s never been shown what it is. And later on, mental disorders can be developed, specially in cases like this, when the child eventually starts rejecting any kind of affection (a condition that doesn’t have a cure). The way this whole thing comes down would have made an even better character, and he wouldn’t even be the villain. I wholeheartedly believe that if he had been written correctly, there would have been a real villain, Dumbledore (not to say he is evil, but you don’t have to be evil to be a villain), and Tom would have been more of an antagonist. This may have given the opportunity to have a special interaction between him and Harry when he realises this teenager isn’t that much different than him. And Harry could have found too someone who understands how it feels to be a freak. This two have the potential of a great relationship that doesn’t necessarily have to be on good terms, but they would have naturally developed mutual respect by still being able to dislike each other and it would have been more logical, more natural.

Proof 3: Tom is, in reality, a good person. He is a little bit of a sociopath, as a matter of fact, but he is often described as quite a genius (?) child. He is smart, brilliant, and clever. If we ignore the nonsense of dark lords and horrocruxes, Tom would have fought to change the magical world for all those who are outcasts like him. While the ministry has laws against magical creatures, Voldemort is constantly making alliances with them, not only because is convenient, but because he genuinely does not care what they are. His hatred for muggles is exaggerated but understandable, but if he truly believed in wizards supremacy, he would not trust nor ally himself with werewolves, giants, etc. Tom is so brilliant that, even when Dumbledore suspected him when young, he got away with the things he wanted because he was so careful as to not leave any evidence of his plans, until it was too late. Once having this redirected, he could have perfectly fit in politics or similar places. He is charming and can easily make people do his bidding. He would have used this to get justice. Maybe not in the most peaceful way, but his intentions wouldn’t have been bad.

Of course, much of what I’ve said can be biased but I’m not here to be totally fair, I’m here to proclaim my love and devotion for what Tom Riddle could have been.

There is so much to this single character that deserves his own series of books because there is a lot of wasted potential. Harry and Tom are such parallels and yet, their whole dinamic was simple and vague, with good points but had as much significance as it would have been with any other protagonist with a totally different backstory.

Tom Riddle is this traumatised yet strong character, even if he isn’t good, but... cartoonish villains I guess.

Thanks to coming to my ted talk... if you managed to go through the whole thing.

English is not my first language, sorry for all my fuck ups

[Shameless side note: I do have a fanfic where Tom is the chosen one, and it’s not very good because I suck at everything but if you wanna check it out is here]

#tom riddle #harry potter #albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore #tom is great and deserves better #jk rowling #i hate this woman so much #grindelwald too i guess?#gellert grindelwald #merope gaunt #i should stop adding tags now

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