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dfortrafalgar · 29 days

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I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: i'm going to say it on every chapter. READ THE WARNINGS ON CHAPTER 1!!!!!

Also, I am officially opening up a tag list for readers who are interested in updates. If you are interested, either respond to a chapter, DM me, or send an ask and I will add you to the list.

I'm eventually going to make a masterlist for this fic, but that won't be until it's completely finished.

Taglist: @phsycochan

Chapter 4

[Prev] [Next]

Saturday morning.

Law was woken up at 3:30 AM from his hospital pager calling him in as quickly as possible for an active aortic aneurysm. You had woken up from how quickly he jumped out of bed, but fell back asleep just as rapidly, getting to sleep in as you had weekends off. When you did wake up, however, you were nervous.

You were tracking.

You were supposed to get your period 10 days ago.

Bepo didn’t seem to need to go out that urgently, so you quickly fed him before retreating to the bathroom, digging through the medicine drawers for your abundance of at-home pregnancy tests that Law insisted on keeping. Your hands were shaking as you unboxed the familiar white stick before performing the test.

You washed your hands and waited for the test to come back.

You wanted to leave and make yourself breakfast, anything to distract you from the turmoil of waiting, but your feet simply refused to move from their spot. The only sound in your head was the pounding of your own heart, the only reminder that you were even still alive.

One minute passed.

Then two minutes.

Then three.

Was the world still turning? Were you still breathing?

You blinked once. Then twice.

You reached a shaky hand forward and picked up the test, gazing at the result window.

—

Law remained on call, but was able to return home after the aneurysm operation. He opened the door to see you standing there, a bright smile on your face. He had barely taken off his jacket when you thrust a white stick in his face.

His stomach dropped.

“Law…” you whispered, your face growing more and more excited.

“It’s…” he uttered back, golden eyes wide with exasperation.

Two thin red lines displayed in the result window.

You barely had time to register his reaction when Law scooped you off of your feet, spinning you in his arms. You squealed at the sensation, gripping his shoulders tightly as Bepo sprung to his feet and barked at the display. You were placed back down, Law stabilizing you by your arms. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes blown wide.

“It’s actually… is it actually…?” he asked, winded. Even he could barely believe his eyes.

“It’s positive, Law…” you whispered back, your own disbelief was palpable, but your joy was radiating from your body in waves. You flung your arms around his neck, laughing into his shoulder. Law held you around your hips, the smile on his face comparable to his smiles from your wedding night.

It was positive.

“Law… what do we do now?” you asked, still gripping the test. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two thin red lines on the display, as if you were still coming to terms with reality. You were pregnant.

“I… I honestly don’t know…” he responded, equally dumbstruck.

You both had sex around three times within the past two weeks, so it definitely happened some time then. Regardless, you beamed. “I just… can’t believe it. Almost eight months…”

Law pulled you toward the couch in your shared living area, sitting you down next to him and holding you close. There were so many words he wanted to say, so many expressions of sheer delight and excitement at the sudden success of your shared efforts, but all he managed to say was, “I’m gonna be a dad…”

You laughed, both out of nerves and elation as you added, “I’m gonna be a mom…”

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before bursting into a shared fit of giggles. Bepo hopped up onto the couch next to you, shoving his head into your shoulder and forcing you to turn your attention to him to pet and kiss his head.

“Bepo, you’re gonna be a big brother!” you cheered. The dog’s pink tongue was hanging out of his muzzle, like he was smiling just as bright as you and Law were.

Law wanted to shout it from the rooftops. He wanted the entire universe to know. But for your sake, and for the sake of Bepo’s sensitive ears, he kept his words contained within the walls of your apartment.

“We did it…”

#fem reader #law x reader #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #one piece x reader #op x reader #im losing you

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ladyelissarose · 1 year

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‘Guardian Angel’

F reader x Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Reader’s call-sign: Fix

Summary: Amongst the many other lives you’ve saved, particularly you have saved Ghost’s life countless of times. You made some close calls on your life to spare his, and yet, he never seemed to appreciate it or even notice it. But your were wrong, when he came to your rescue, when you made the biggest call of your life, to spare his.

Warnings: We’re dealing with COD (Call Of Duty) here, so we know what to expect, guns and warfare stuff, some angst and guess what… some fluffy fluff too!! Enjoy ;)

“Take cover!! We’ve been ambushed!!”

Captain Price’s voice rang through your comms in a loud, panicked tone. And he was right, you all were ambushed after walking into a deadly trap. You should’ve known that stepping inside a dark, empty room in a 3 story building had its very own hidden objects that either exploded on you or shot at you. And today, it looked like the Cartels had switched up their game this time and used large laser guns that were motion censored. You being small compared to everyone else, found cover in at a small corner, Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish, the infamous only Scottish man with a steady Mohawk (only because he used 10 million pounds of gel and other random oils he collected in his hands.) found his cover with Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick inside what looked like a closet, and Captain John Price was not in the building (thank God), he was actually in the getaway car this time that lied about 1 and a half miles away from here. And lastly, Ghost, stood completely still in the middle of the room, doing his absolute best to make his breathing almost come to a complete stop, so his moves would lessen closely to a zero. From the corner you watched him with wide and worried filled eyes, afraid that any movement he could make would activate the lasers and it would go through his skull in an instant, even through all the stupid masks he wore.

‘Why do you put yourself in fucking predicaments Simon??!’

You came to the conclusion that you should take a moment and breathe, then think about a good plan, you were good at making those anyways. Why? Well, think about why you were called ‘Fix’ in the first place, because you happened to ‘Fix’ everything. You never got credit for it, the most you got was, ‘you did your job.’, which is true, but come on; You’ve saved your teams ass about 173,948,929,928- anyways, the numbers go on and on and on, from one way to another, you’ve made it your life’s mission to save theirs, no matter what it could cost you. And with Ghost, damn he takes up 3/4 of the times a life has been saved by you, he has landed in that spot so many times in so many different ways, you’re surprised he’s still in one piece, heck- you’re even more surprised that you haven’t died yet in his stead. So you knew that if you pushed him away from the lasers hit, because you saw the hunter green flashlight hang off of his belt by like a thread, that he would only shrug it off like nothing and give you cold shoulder for a few days, but in all honesty, you stopped caring for thankfulness from him a long time ago. You knew that you had to get Ghost out of the way, for that flashlight was going to slip off his belt and land on the ground, hence making enough sound and movement to set the lasers off, but you needed to wait for the right moment to achieve just that. What in reality took about 5 minutes for all of this to come into place, actually felt like an eternity to you. Sweat covered your exposed skin and your heart’s beating became erratic. You felt every bone and nerve inside your body shake violently and tremble like jelly. And yet, on the outside, you looked put together and confident, vigilant, even bold for being in such a dire situation. Ghost faced you from where you hid, but he kept his eyes away from yours, you believed he was avoiding you only because he could read you like a book, and today he wasn’t ready to face and figure out what you had in store. But he didn’t have to necessarily look at you to see what you were going to do, from the corner of his eye he saw your swift change in position, from being completely coward to the ground to now in a low, standing position. He caught your attention and made you halt your moves when he gruffly whispered,

“Don’t move Fix, don’t.”

Before you answered back the flashlight made a movement of about an inch, slowly coming really close to falling, which caused you to reply hurriedly,

“But Ghost-“

“Stay in position Fix, that’s a fuckin’ order.”

Your jaw dropped in the slightest, as you were left without words to explain your desperation to get him out of the way before it was too late. You then felt eyes burning into your soul, causing you to look up and see the one and only, masked up soldier sending you glares in a stare down. Ghost’s tall appearance and fearing stance with his intimidating eyes sent a chill up your spine while you took a deep breath in, feeling as if the world and time took a complete stop all around you. Maybe he didn’t give a damn about your life, but you sure as hell cared about his. He was a very important man in the Ghost Team, he presence was needed at all times, he was like the Queen to the Chess Game, powerful to go wherever and the protector of the King, well needed for his power and capability. And you, well… you were like the pawn, maybe you were small and could only move in certain places at a time, but freakin hell, you made sure that those few steps counted, and indeed you always succeeded that way. And today was no different. You had nothing to live for anyways, you lost your family in a massacre when you were a teenager, and only had yourself to fend for, so you chose the military to become your new family. Laswell kept you alongside her after you selflessly saved her life, and soon represented you to Price and his Team when you accidentally ran into them while trying to save their lives from an active bomb. You were only saving lives all the time, trying to make up for the ones you couldn’t save, your family. But now you took a complete stand, and kept your eyes on the slipping flashlight, as you began to move your right foot forward slowly. Ghost saw this and growled angrily,

“Fix, stop.”

Your breathed hitched when it finally fell but luckily it’s lock got caught on his pant leg. The laser gun immediately pointed towards his leg and held its new position, waiting like a lion after its prey, craving and anticipating the next move to strike. You sighed in relief but nonetheless said,

“You’re calling it close Ghost, you need to move now, or I’ll move you.”

“You will not fuckin move Fix, I got it under control-“

CLINCK!’

Now that was the sound, of the flashlight finally letting go, and clicking on the ground it fell on. In a heartbeat you moved from your place and shoved Ghost as hard as you could away from his spot. With doing this came along the feeling of a burning, pain sear through your chest and electrocute every vain and nerve in your body. With whatever air was left in your lungs you let out a scream so loud it probably woke up the dead. The power of the electricity held your body in place as it continued to burn everything inside of you, but soon through all of the chaos, you heard loud shots being rung around, and soon the lasers were no longer holding you hostage with their electrical powers. Your body let loose and hit the ground harshly, trying to process the amount of pain it had just went through. Ringing sounds filled your ears and it made your head pound painfully, you tried to move your body but it felt too heavy and painful to even shift a little. You opened your eyes as best as possible, to only see smoke fill the atmosphere along with black spots cover your vision. In the distance, over the ringing noise, you heard voices shout back at you,

“Fix!! FIX STAY AWAKE!!”

“FUCK LT SHE’S LOSING CONSCIOUSNESS!!”

“GAZ GET PRICE HERE NOW!”

“I’M TAKING OUT ALL OF THESE DAMN LASER GUNS!! Drag her out of here!!”

Then it went completely black and silent for you.

Ghost’s POV

Ghost lost the air in his lungs when he felt you go limp in his arms, he had already made it outside and very close to Price’s truck. But instead of climbing into the truck to speed towards the closest hospital or medical center at base, he laid you on the ground in the middle of the desert to begin performing CPR. In desperation and with bare hands he ripped opened your suit and yanked off your bullet proof suit as well. He then proceeded to tear open your shirt, (which was a black, long sleeve Henley that was being borrowed by you from Soap.) once he did this, he pressed his ears against your chest, and held his fingers against your pulse on your neck, and almost whimpered in fear when he couldn’t feel or hear a pulse. He backed up and whispered to himself,

“She can’t be dead… no.”

He shut his eyes and shook off his worst fears , wanting to believe that what was true in the moment really wasn’t. He sucked in a large amount of air before lifting his mask up to his nose, and pressing his lips to yours, doing his best to play God, and breathe air into your lifeless lungs. He went on and on, with hope weighing less in his heart, as he grew more erratic and panicked when you didn’t cooperate.

“COME ON LASS!! WAKE UP!!”

Ghost yanked off his mask completely, for he felt like he was suffocating under it. He breathing was heavy and uneven, as he sat back and stared, waiting for the miracle to come, waiting to see your eyes open and the gift of life grant you a deserving, second chance. But you didn’t move, breathe, or wake up, you were gone. Ghost grabbed the mask he had taken off, and he used it to wipe your dirty face gently and caress it, crying inside at seeing you in this hopeless position. Soap and Gaz came to stand beside his kneeling place, Soap made the move to pat his back gently, while wording sadly,

“It’s over Lt, we have to go.”

Ghost swallowed the guilt that had begun to grow in his throat, and slowly nodded.

“You’re right Johnny… it’s over.”

Gaz sighed in relief, sorta happy to see Ghost work with them and accept destiny’s fate, so he quickly grabbed his arm and helped Soap lift him off the ground and away from you. But unfortunately yet fortunately… Ghost really wasn’t done with you. He hadn’t even taken a step away from you when he yanked his arms away from their grasp and shouted from the deepest of his heart and soul,

“NOO!! No! I can’t leave her here it’s not her fault!!”

Before the men could react to his outburst,

he was by your side again, using every ounce of air he sucked in to fill you up. Soap grabbed his vest and ordered him with a frustrated tone, (for he too was beginning to feel the weight of your deadly absence)

“GHOST NO!!-“

Ghost kept his hand grasping tightly onto your shirt, afraid to let you go or to be pulled away, and didn’t hesitate to pull his large pocket knife out on Soap, as he growled with watery, red eyes,

“Move the fuck away Johnny, or I will make you go still.”

Soap stopped in his tracks, and held his hands up and away from Ghost’s reach while lowering his voice, and trying to calm the struggle,

“Lt. please-“

A large but warm hand then landed on Soap’s arm, silently commanding him to stop arguing with his LT. Soap tore his eyes away from Ghost’s piercing ones, to find solace in Price’s, which were looking at him with insistence,

“Soap, leave him alone.”

Ghost took Price’s words as his cue to continue, and now used his both palms to compress your chest, doing his absolute best to ignore the sickening cracks of your rib cage breaking under his mercy of trying to revive you. During this whole time he had been quiet, screaming from the inside and pit of his stomach, but now, he couldn’t hold in his despair anymore.

“FIX PLEASE!! BREATHE!! BREATHE!!”

An unexpected sob escaped his lips as he for the last time, took a large heap of air, and held your face between his hands, as he pressed his wet, salty lips to yours, craving for your touch and life to return his passion to feel you move and breathe for him. Soap watched with tears in his eyes and trembling hands and lips, Gaz kept wiping away his falling tears to get a clear vision of what was happening, and Price, he couldn’t even breathe. Every single member in the team secretly really loved and cherished your presence, you were the mother they never had. It was the ‘here I made you dinner’ to the ‘go take a nap honey, I’ll cover your spot.’ that made them appreciate your life and grow close with you. But with Ghost, his problem was that he didn’t know how to word it, and most of the time feared that your loving heart was a cover up for a betraying heart that could come later. But your life scarifying actions towards his team and him proved him wrong every time. This scared him too, your willingness to give up everything of you to save him. So at the end of every successful mission, he’d shove you away, hoping to see you grow into hating his selfish heart and ways, and maybe dodge the next bullet that went his way. Yet, here you were, in a battle between life and death, for him. In the bottom of his heart, he really liked you too like his team, maybe he could even say that he loved you, he loved your good heart and work, your faithfulness and trust in him, even when he grew internally angry and showed it when you got hurt to protect him. But happy he was to see you made it out alive each time, to feed him that delicious childhood meal of yours everyday, be with him when they felt lonely but didn’t want to talk, even take care of his wounds and sick tummies when he drank away to forget the haunting nightmares. But that happiness didn’t visit him today, instead it was fear, guilt, and death that lurked around him, ready to snatch his heart into their painful grasp, and rip him apart.

Your POV

But the power of life, in a single breath, sent all those demons away in an instant. The atmosphere was filled with the sound of you gasping for air and Ghost calling out to you supportively and happily,

“That’s good baby girl, breathe for me, breathe.”

Ghost held you up a little so you could breathe better, and you went into a coughing fit, adjusting your chest feeling an excruciating pain each time you sucked in. The Ghost team had cheered happily and hugged one another, grateful to see you alive, and though they were excited and anxious to reach you, they gave Ghost space to comprehend, that his killing hands and harsh life, had the soul and heart to save yours. You had moved to sit down, holding onto your chest with one hand as you looked up at your savior, admiring his beautiful, scarred face, that looked at with you with compassion and something else, that looked like love. He was too beautiful to be real,

‘Am I in Heaven?’

You asked yourself, then you whimpered in pain, and asked with a frown out loud,

“Who are you?.. my guardian angel?”

For you, had never seen Ghost without his mask. Ghost let out a small smile, and held onto your face once again, and replied softly,

“No lass, you’re my guardian angel.”

You gawked in realization, you knew that voice all too well.

“Simon?”

Ghost nodded,

“It’s me.”

Tears filled your eyes, as the whole situation in front of you came clear, he saved your life, he woke you up.

“You… you s-saved my life?”

Your voice cracking got him crying again as he nodded,

“It was payback for all this time… I’m sorry.”

You stifled down a groan of pain as you chuckled, and reached out to touch his adorning face,

“Don’t apologize… you don’t owe me anything.”

He leaned into your touch, and was about to ask you what it was that you needed, until they heard and saw two medical helicopters come into view. Price informed them all immediately before they shot it down in fear that it might be an enemy attack,

“I called for help, one for her and one for us, they’ve arrived. Let’s go.”

Ghost right away told you,

“Let them come and get you-“

You whined in pain as your held onto his vest tightly and pleaded,

“No! No, please take me, hold me! Don’t let me go!”

Ghost held his hands over yours and questioned,

“Then what do you want me to do? Tell me my lass, I’m right here.”

Your eyes flickered to his lips them to his eyes, and repeated the action a couple more times, afraid to request your deepest desire that moment. But Ghost read your mind, and pulled you in for a soft kiss. Not that long ago he harshly pressed his lips onto yours, breathing his air into your lungs, feeling your cold and unmoving lips against his, but now, your lips moved in sync with his as your tongue danced with his, he felt your breath hit his face and fight for slight dominance. But soon air was now needed for the both of you as your undying love and passion took it away, you pulled away first and gave Ghost a last soft peck before requesting,

“Take me, please. I want you with me the whole time.”

Ghost nodded approvingly and kissed your head, before slipping on his mask. You then wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as he carefully lifted you up in bridal style, hushing your pained cries with whispers of love and comfort, speaking the sweetest words,

“I’m right here… you’re going to be ok love… Hold on, we’re almost there.”

Once inside they medical team strapped you and began to separate Ghost from you to work on you, but your killer grip on his hand held him in place by your side, especially your words filled with love and desperation of losing him,

“Simon don’t let me go, I don’t want to lose you.”

The medical team saw your persistence, and thick tears that rolled down your eyes because they wanted to take him away, so in the end they let him stay, (they won’t admit it but Ghost’s intimidating stance and deadly stare made them agree to let him stay with you, worried that he might give them all a beating for making you cry)

Ghost sat beside your laying body, and dried your tears with his thumb as his other hand caressed your head, watching you fight the urge to close your eyes. Through the mask he kissed your lips and cheek, and told you to close your eyes before he promised,

“I will be right here the whole time.. I won’t ever let you go, love. I won’t you leave me… you’re my guardian angel.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #cod simon riley #simon riley #ghost simon riley #cod ghost #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod x reader

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mattsturnioloarchive · 2 months

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Imagine being in a relationship with Christopher Sturniolo (Part 2)

Disclaimers: It's my first time writing, so forgive me if it's not great. Nothing written here reflects reality, so please, don't freak out. It's just something written from fan to fan. If you don't like this type of content, don't read it. This content is original, written by me. English is not my first language, so feel free to correct me on anything.

• You'll be even more in love and find it hilarious when Chris tries to cook for you. He'll do his best to make the best dish you've ever eaten, and sometimes he'll succeed, but other times it'll be a disaster, and the only way out will be going to McDonald's while laughing at the situation and getting a large soda to wash away the bad taste of the food. And you're the only person on earth he doesn't mind sharing food and drinks with, but he'll obviously always be taking a bite or a sip of your food and drink too.

• He'll take you to do all the activities that you both love. And then, he'll take you grocery shopping, where he'll buy any snacks or things you like, even without you asking, because he knows what your favorite things are. He'll gift you with anything he thinks suits you, no matter the cost. Chris definitely doesn't mind spending on you.

• He'll make a special playlist to listen to with you, with songs that remind him of you, songs that make him feel good, and if you show that you're enjoying the playlist as much as he is, that'll be heaven for him. And he loves seeing you in the driver's seat, driving all focused.

• Chris prefers to break away from the conventional most of the time. Common and traditional dates, like a fancy candlelit restaurant, aren't really his thing, and luckily, not yours either. You both enjoy more unusual and casual dates, like going to the arcade, visiting a playground, watching live sports, going to concerts, and then spending the night wandering around the city. You're not against tradition and romance, but you like to be creative and have the freedom to have fun together.

• No matter where you two are, Chris will always look for you and try to be close to you. He feels safer by your side, so when you're not around, he feels lost and too insecure to do anything. But the moment he finds you in the crowd, he'll immediately feel calmer and more confident. And he'll always smile when he sees you, it's the most beautiful thing in the whole universe.

Part 1

tag: @leah-loves-lilies

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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clitorises · 2 months

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Comparing spicy food to domestic violence...bad take lol. Why is a man beating you so he can orgasm better than beating you in general? It's worse. If a man slits your wrists because you asked, is that OK? You people are mentally ill.

A radfem in my inbox? Who didn’t bother to read my blog before messaging me? On anon, no less? What a surprise. Alright, let’s dance: I’ll point out your small mistakes before we move on to the big one 🖤

1. I’m a dominant. Nobody is beating me, unless, of course, I order them to.

2. I’m a lesbian. No man is coming near me, let alone COMING near me. Gross.

Alright, now that that’s out of the way: your concept of what BDSM is appears to be sadly informed only by Fifty Shades (Powerful Man Hits Helpless Woman!!!) which is… not reflective of the realities of this lifestyle. “Negotiation,” or talking to a potential partner about what you both want, is a bedrock of these relationships. You can find plenty example of yes-no-maybe checklists on the internet or in books—it’s quite common for partners to fill out a checklist of this type and compare them. Anything that anyone has marked “no” on is off the table-

“But wait!” you say, as I mention consent, “Men don’t care about consent! Men watch violent porn and reenact it on women! Men prey on women who are seeking BDSM relationships in order to abuse them!”

Well. Yeah. You’re right. This is not because of some innate evil in BDSM. This is because our patriarchal culture is built on male entitlement. Like… come on. I will point you to one of your own philosophies, the rules of misogyny, and I will speak to you in your own language:

I, a dyke, who is fascinated by the intersection of pleasure and pain and have been incorporating it into my sex life since it began, have nothing to do with men abusing women in any context. Period. What I do with other lesbians does not perpetuate male violence. Males perpetuate male violence. I KNOW you know this. Do not waltz into my inbox pretending ignorance. I will not pretend ignorance either: BDSM is risky on its own, and that risk increases exponentially for women who seek male partners in the scene. I love those women and do what I can to protect them. I will not, however, change my approach to sex or my general hedonistic philosophies just because men use BDSM to hurt women. If I never engaged with anything a man has used to hurt a woman, I would spend my life doing a whole lot of nothing.

Alright, that’s quite enough of that. Back to negotiation and consent: As a dominant, I’ve found that much more of my time is spent being told a submissive’s dangerous fantasies, and figuring out how to take them as close as I can get them to their desires without actually hurting them. Choking (or, more accurately, strangulation) is a great example of this. Many submissives actively desire that helpless feeling, that light-headed euphoria. I, however, do not want to kill any of my beloved’s precious braincells. So we negotiate, experiment, and find ways to achieve what they want without doing anything that I mark as too dangerous. But that’s just one example: any potential act is discussed in detail before a scene begins. Either partner gets to say no to anything during these discussions, and during sex as well, just like in vanilla sex.

My spicy food metaphor was silly, but it has a grain of truth to it—things that hurt can feel good, too. Contact sports, roller coasters, skydiving or BASE jumping, bouldering or ice climbing, even running marathons, are all things that are scary, painful, dangerous, or carry risk. Humans do them anyway. We love doing them. I love doing them. And you are not going to change my mind by strawmanning in my inbox. See you around.

#asked and answered

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hwaightme · 1 year

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Your fan, Mingi (part 1)

(pt.2 here) (your fan ml)

🎤 pairing: mingi x rapper!reader 🎤 genre: slice of life, mix of fluff and angst, music and the industry, slow burn 🎤 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if mingi was stanning you 🎤 wordcount: 3.4k 🎤 warnings/tags: language, reader is an underground rapper, mingi is totally starstruck, producer hongjoong energy, activism, criticism of music industry, dark side of idol life, hongjoong-ah instead of hyung, yunho is supportive friend (TM), mingi being a rebel, sneaking out, potential rap battles incoming, reader with that mic drop, let me know if anything else 🎤 a/n: Hello there <3 thank you very much for your support, feedback and appreciation, it means the world to me! Here is the next installation of the "Your fan, _____" series, for none other than Song Mingi!! Any reblogs, asks and love is appreciated!

You were an established independent artist, having made a name for yourself among the real veterans and rap appreciators.

Years of tracks, freestyles and collaborations that you had published or appeared in under your belt, you were dead set on making a permanent home in the underground scene, deeming it to be the place where real art was made.

As such, you had openly turned down offers to get signed to bigger labels, spitting on their fineprint.

Besides, after trying to connect with you over music, they had always immediately veered off the trail to discuss image, visuals and something or other about them helping you develop your own style.

Blocked without a second thought. What bullshit was this? You? Not having your own style? Please.

You made it this far riding your own wave, making your own connections, and you sure as hell were not about to sell that off to entertainment industry vultures.

It was the managers, the bureaucrats that you did not want to face. The casting directors with ulterior motives.

You were an activist for creative freedom and helping new artists break through properly. You were vocal about these issues, both in general and through music.

You had first hand experience with how hard it was to become an idol, having actually been cast as a young teen and being a trainee for 2 years, but it turned out that the agency was... questionable, to say the least. And thus your independent journey started, and your doubt of any larger music-related organisations grew.

And the last thing you wanted was to, in front of all those people you were fighting for, who trusted you and saw you as a role model, support those who had questionable intentions. No.

You were a wildfire, spinning things around, remixing reality into raw and emotional lines, your only goal being that at least one person out there could find comfort in your songs.

Fully aware of the responsibility you had as an artist, you breathed your work and never backed down until just conditions for all collaborators, agents and assistants were met.

Though this was honourable, you became notoriously difficult to work with, often deemed to be a pain in the ass.

You would only shrug at that - it wasn't your fault that the music industry was full of self-centred manipulators. Your agent kept assuring you that you were exaggerating, but who said that a nice person couldn't have malicious intent?

Maybe you were overly cautious at times, seeing as you did not enjoy letting people close to you.

Were you alone? No, not at all. You had strong friendships with some legends, attended major events, hell, even gave whole press conferences and readily used the media to spread your message.

You even had some friends who were idols (albeit few), and connected with them deeply over shared passions and visions for the future.

But your soul? Strictly off limits.

Though you did, when the moment called for it, elaborate on one verse or other, either giving it a relatable backstory or linking it to a national or global issue, not once did you bare all.

That was not your style.

Neither was it your fans'.

They did not need to be spoon-fed pretentious monologues to understand.

Your fans were a real unit, many connecting with each other and becoming life-long friends. Since you never tried to gather the bigger venues, even if you were touring the country, you had a chance to interact with them. Reassure them. Connect with them. Human to human.

You understood each other. No accessories. That was the most powerful way to bare all.

It was through these concerts that Mingi had gotten to know you, and soon enough you had become his idol, for the lack of a better word, and muse.

One time he had snuck out of the dorms late at night having heard that a new artist he had heard and liked the sound of was going to be opening for another artist.

By sheer luck he managed to swipe the last ticket available, hours before the concert, and was off, having only alerted Yunho that he was "going out".

The event was held at a club, which technically was forbidden for him, but he was feeling rebellious and wanted to immerse himself in the underground atmosphere for once.

He had to squeeze past many bodies to take his place by a pillar off to the left. There were no seats, as he had expected so he perched himself against the structure, waiting.

The opening act was pretty good, as he had hoped, with the teenage boy on stage having a confident flow. There was that yearning in his eyes, hope for something bigger, like this venue was not enough, but maybe with some time and practice that dream could be achieved.

Mingi was about to leave, turning to try and snake through the crowd that was practically pressing him into the pillar, but their screaming that turned into a hypnotic chant, cult-like made him freeze and turn back.

And there you were. In all your glory. Sitting on a high stool that you had dragged after yourself onto the stage, a wired microphone in your hands that were folded in prayer as you bowed your head repeatedly to the audience.

A single spotlight illuminated your form, clad in pitch black industrial-style trousers, chunky sneakers and matching jacket that was zipped up half-way revealing a black tank top loosely hanging off you.

The aura that spread from the stage into the room was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and it only got stronger as you began to perform.

And not just run through the lines as if you had somewhere better to be, no, you were living through the song, riding the beat, eyes ablaze.

The song you had started with, (which he later found out was something you had written in response to some hate your fanbase had gotten), called "Welcome home, to the show", started with a low hum. It reminded him of a rumbling thunder, your voice distorted by intentionally added digital noise.

Then, you broke into a quiet mutter, each phrase so perfectly constructed that it was sending wave after wave, and he was being swept in. He looked around and noticed that all present were whispering along with you, eyes not leaving the stage a single time.

He was also in shock at how few phones there were, being used to seeing thousands.

And after a few more bars, all hell broke loose, and he was ready to rip his heart out and give it to you then and there.

You were captivating, your message and vision resonating beyond the walls of this club. Connecting philosophy, ethics, even politics and popular culture, you were the truth.

You were alive and resurrected those who had broken away from routine to see you.

The concert was as though you were telling a gripping saga, in one breath. No wonder your fans were near mad towards the end, while you finished up with a 'classic' of yours.

The audience begged for an encore.

You were smiling wide, pure ecstasy on your face like you were just coming down from a high. The jacket had long been forgotten, and you were currently wiping sweat off your tattooed arms.

And just when your fans began to quieten down, you raised your mic, and in one motion summoned a beat.

Another roar erupted as you admired your followers. Mingi swore you locked eyes with him, piercing his body.

There it was. A freestyle where you managed to incorporate an impossible flow change, and personally addressed some of the fans you knew personally and spotted in the audience.

After the performance, there was a near total flip in your demeanour. Mingi observed as you settled on one of the seats at the bar, changed in a different top and now sporting a beanie

Both you and your fans were beyond respectful, sharing embraces and kind words like you were old friends. Maybe you were, he still had so much to learn. You looked at each one of them like they were your entire world, recalling and asking about personal troubles they had shared with you before.

Mingi was starstruck, he wanted to learn what you knew. Learn what drove you. Learn how to be like you, even just a fraction.

And that was how you became his definition of an artist, rapper and role model

Needless to say, after the concert he could not just ‘stay the same’.

The members noticed that Mingi was walking around the dorm, travelling and even taking breaks between schedules with earphones in and eyes glued to his screen.

He had also grown to prefer being immersed in his thoughts, more often observing chaos among the members rather than participating in it.

The collection of changes began to alarm the others, as they had no clue what the source of this Mingi switch up was.

All except Yunho, that was. The lad quickly put two and two together, since he was in the know about Mingi's escape to attend a concert, and was homie goals to not spill this information to the others as there had not been any press or spottings.

So during a day when the group was miraculously free, Yunho approached Mingi to go for a drive together, and the latter not suspecting the interrogation incoming, agreed.

While they were navigating around the city, eventually settling for their final destination to be a quick visit to Bucheon, Yunho, passively, in an even tone, inquired:

"So what happened that night?"

Fully not expecting Mingi to BURST. The boy was literally bouncing in his seat recounting the experience, to the point where Yunho had to use "the mom hand" to try calming his best friend.

After agreeing to not act like a car crash risk, Mingi delved into explaining why exactly he had been acting the way he was, happily answering any and all questions that came his way.

Really, he was waiting to fanboy all this time.

He took out his phone and attempted to show Yunho some screenshots and notes, once again forgetting that road safety was a thing that existed.

"Man you really want to Tokyo Drift off this bridge huh?"

So he spent the rest of the drive reading out extensive analysis he had conducted, picking apart your rap and diving into what everything could potentially mean, how the rhyme and structure worked and how he could potentially take some patterns to experiment with.

Yunho was in awe - he could not get enough of professional Mingi, so he was more than happy to hear that he found such a good role model.

It was that sparkle in his friends eyes, the grin that would not leave his face as he talked about a rare video he found on YouTube of you freestyling during a radio show, his pride as he exclaimed that he had found some of your earliest recordings in the depths of SoundCloud, diving into babbling away about how your sound, though had always been unique, had indeed evolved over time.

To Mingi, you were a daring character, not caring for the blueprints or trends, and inspired him to work harder than ever before, hone his skills further so that he could enjoy the music as much as you did. He wanted to live every line.

He already had the ability to feel the music coursing through his body, and move impeccably to every beat, but there was something indescribable about how you created your creations, something unreachable, that drew Mingi in.

He desperately wanted to crack the code - maybe in a way of natural competition, as he was also in the music industry, hell, also a rapper, but when he tried that theory on it did not sit well. Mingi did not see himself ever having even an echo of a thought to surpass you or wrong you – to him, you were in your own unique realm.

The young man had nothing but respect for you and wanted to simply translate that into a deeper understanding of your skills. He knew far too well just how hard it was to make performances like yours appear effortless.

As he listened and listened to studio recordings and compared them to the live versions he had replaying in his head, he noticed how you had even changed up the emotional landscape for the specific audience. There was no limit to how much variability there was.

Seeing how he had won over Yunho and even got him into being one of your listeners, albeit more casual, Mingi became even more bold about his passion for your music and his professional growth.

So, day in, day out he had begun to learn some of your rap, slowing it down, trying to repeat it after you. He had attempted to record himself on his phone to review progress, and then, for the final challenge… he needed Hongjoong’s help.

Upon hearing that the younger member wanted to go to the recording studio Hongjoong quite literally shot up from his sprawled position on the floor, dropping his paint brushes (much to Seonghwa’s rising discontent) and rushing to get ready.

He knew that when inspiration struck, it was a race against time to try recording anything.

Once they were in the studio and Hongjoong checked that all equipment worked, Mingi decided to sit him down and elaborate on what he wanted to do and why.

What he did not expect, however, was for Hongjoong to have a smug expression on his face, leaning back as if he… knew something. And knew it so well that it seemed he could maybe even fact check the information he was being given.

Soon enough, Mingi stopped his monologue to stare his captain down, eyebrow raised.

“Do you want me to text them?”

Mingi.exe stopped working.

What did Hongjoong mean by that? That he could text you? Did he mean to message you on social media? Or to try reaching out to you indirectly through management perhaps? That all seemed more realistic-

“No, for real, I have her number, lucky for you we are what one could consider friends.”

Mingi felt as though he was on some hidden camera prank show, quite literally turning his head to check if that was the case. When the first wave of shock did pass, he managed to mumble:

“But… how? How did you meet?”

“At a speaker and networking event, of all places. It was one dedicated to fusion of different disciplines that fall under the umbrella of creative arts, a few months back.”

“Oh, I think I remember! And wait wasn’t it the event where you presented about combining fashion and music and stuff like that, right?”

“Yes, exactly. So, really, it wasn’t a talk that I exclusively gave. There were a couple of others on the stage with me, and it was like a panel discussion. And guess who was one of the guests there? Your new celebrity crush! We had talked previously on occasion, but after that panel it was a 180 flip.”

“And that is when you got her… number?”

“Yeah. She gave it to me.”

Mingi did not want to admit but he was experiencing an odd pang of jealousy, at how serendipity had led you to Hongjoong and not him. How the older member could consider himself a friend of yours, but Mingi was just a fan. But he could not stay in this state for long – after all, this second level connection was an opportunity. He was sure to be able to reach you now.

A silence fell over the two members.

Hongjoong finally broke the silence with a chuckle, returning to what Mingi had been meaning to do:

“So, you want to record a cover, right? Or what was it again?”

“Yep… there is that one track. From her second album. ‘Dum Spiro Spero’. It blew me away. The title means 'While I breathe, I hope', and it tells a story of a child dreaming of making it on the big stage and working hard, and then finishes with them achieving it. When I first heard it... it just spoke to me."

Hongjoong shifted in his seat and moved to search up the track on the studio computer. Once on, he began to nod his head to the entrancing beat.

“This one is one of the less known ones, isn’t it? How did you come across it?”

“Setl-” Mingi slapped his hand over his mouth, realising that he may or may not have just exposed himself and set himself up for the scolding of a lifetime.

“Setl… setlist? SETLIST? Song Mingi… Are you meaning to tell me that you attended a public concert… without telling anyone?”

Mingi contemplated whether he wanted to drag Yunho into this, but chose not to as he merely lowered his head and gave Hongjoong a sheepish smile.

“Mmm… perhaps?”

“Boy, I don’t even need to ask you to come to my room, everything’s prepped already. You are about to get that breath knocked out of you Mingi.” Hongjoong’s expression darkened as he stood up to approach the younger man. But then the latter had the audacity to stand up too.

Ah, the benefits of having a height advantage. “You were saying?”

“Listen here you big little shit-”

After indeed having to listen through an extensive collection of colourful words and a stern warning to never do such risky things (at least without Hongjoong knowing) ever again, they moved to recording the cover.

Since they did not have the instrumental for your track, Hongjoong had laid a beat that was similar and, in front of Mingi’s very eyes sent you a message asking if it was okay to even attempt to do what they were about to do.

Midway through recording, the phone buzzed with a simple offer. To come to your studio so that the three of you could make something even better.

If it was possible for a human being to literally light up a room, Mingi was sure to be the brightest star. Glowing, he stepped out of the booth, mouth wide open, morphing into the most adorable grin.

"Is... that... is that really them?"

"Yep, and you should be getting added to a group chat right... now."

His phone dinged, and he could not believe his eyes. It was a number, your number, on his screen, a notification saying that he was added to 'triple threat trio' and a quick text of you informing that this, indeed was yourself and no one else.

Hongjoong was genuinely afraid that Mingi was going to hit the ceiling because he jumped that high.

A giggly mess, the young rapper and your fan fell back onto the sofa behind where Hongjoong was seated, and typed out a response introducing himself and adding that he really liked your work.

"HYUNG SHE SAYS SHE LIKES OUR WORK TOO AHH"

"You know I sent her some of the tracks from our album before they were even officially released, right?"

"You did what now?"

"Yeah, but don't worry it was just snippets and I had it cleared with the producer. He knows her too so it was easy enough."

"WHY WAS I IN THE DARK ABOUT THIS!!!?"

"BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED?"

"I am going to stop calling you hyung I have not an ounce of respect left-"

"Now that's too far boy one more word and I am asking Y/N to write a diss track about you."

"And I would thank you, HONGJOONG" he exclaimed, still beaming, making a run for it out of the studio and into the corridor, the captain hot on his heels.

The only thing on his mind was that he was going to be recording with you. He would be able to hear you, basically one on one, doing what you did best. And on top of that, you would be creating art together.

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completeoveranalysis · 6 months

Text

[1]

Chapitre 197 - Two Lives

Oh mister imbalance himself! No thank you take it back.

The splash text reads:

My indecision and my hesitation I discarded long ago

So that I may obtain one singe thing

And yeah I guess that does sum him up pretty well.

The pose is frankly incredible, I don’t think he deserves it.

This is the giant oil painting of himself he hangs in the break room of his evil organisation. He has smaller poster versions he puts up in all the hallways. He also has bookmarks made as well. He loves this version of himself dearly. It’s the way he really sees himself. It’s the way he assumes he is.

And the moon he reaches towards is so beautiful, but I think there’s a little bit of actual moon nonsense I don’t quite get with him yet. The full moon appeared in the reflection of the water that one time, out of sync with the time around it, and I’m not sure if that’s if further significance to Evil Wolverine himself or if it was more of a warning of the time of his arrival.

But either way It’s so interesting that he could be just be standing by the moon, but instead he’s standing in front of a roughly hewn out poor imitation of the moon instead. It’s not even exactly the right shape, and you can see the broken base at the bottom, still jagged. And IS it the moon, or is it a leftover fragment of that statue Sakura that was praying at? Is it an echo of Evil Wolverine hacking away at the universe and taking the remnants proudly for himself?

Is it a continuation of how he hacks away at everything he touches in service of his own wish, leaving everything else around him a broken ruin that suits him perfectly? How he not only doesn’t care about the lives he ruins but ACTIVELY aims to do it in order to get what he wants?

Is it a peek into the fact that he wants "the moon", but all he’ll ever be able to achieve is an ugly simulacrum of it? How he’ll never get exactly what he wants, but thinks that ruining the universe until he can get something close enough is good enough for him? That it’s some incredible and worthy goal worth looking forward to, but in reality it's just a shambles of broken rock, battered and stolen and only a fraction of what it might have been without him?

Is the fact that it’s all Rock a sign that Evil Wolverine’s wish is essentially just a barren landscape, a lifeless universe that roughly looks almost like what he wants if you squint a bit?

And yet he thinks he’s pulling it off masterfully the entire time.

Also there's a JUICY, delicious morsel in the fact that the splash text refers to him leaving behind "hesitation" specifically - and it was Lava Lamp's hesitation that ultimately lead to him missing Sakura's hand and being unable to save her. It shows the parallel between the two (that Evil Wolverine himself is so thrilled by) and also demonstrates why Evil Wolverine thinks he's right. It's almost like he's experienced the exact same moment already, or something very similar to it. If he ever does hesitate he'll have the same result - he'll lose the person he's fighting to save. So he's decided to go Full Speed in the other direction and never hesitate or let anything else ever hold him back again, and this has lead to him full on slaughtering countless worlds without ever thinking twice.

It's a great reflection on what Lava Lamp's own dedication could turn into - and he's from the same bloodline, so the parallels write themselves. If pushed in the same directions WOULD Lava Lamp end up as the next Evil Wolverine, or will his heart let him grow in ways that Evil Wolverine cut out of himself a long time ago?

#When you have to grudgingly admit that this looks great #SIGH it’s very fun to look at I GUESS #The imagery slaps I SUPPOSE #The parallels are dark and fantastic and I appreciate them IF I MUST #Now how do we push him out a window #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Tsubasa #Vol 197 #Evil Wolverine #Was there ever a fan theory that Lava Lamp guy and Evil wolverine were the same person #Because gosh that'd be a fun idea to play with #And I trust that CLAMP are having an absolute blast with this

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crazypenguintacofan · 5 months

Text

Okay after sitting a bit with my feelings and rewatching the whole thing, I'm 100% certain that killing Izzy was the correct narrative choice.

1— This season solves all of Izzy's main character conflicts and satisfyingly closes his arc. Easily resisting Ricky's "seduction attemp" (appealing to Izzy's ego and desire for praise and power) and remaining loyal to the crew (which s1 Izzy would've had a lot of trouble with), plus his apology to Ed and fully letting go of Blackbeard, were the perfect culmination for his story thus far. And, crucially, Izzy's character conflicts needed to be solved so his relationship with Ed could be solved, because it's the only way Ed could've ended the season leaving piracy, which I'm guessing was a major plot point the writers always had in their 3-arc plan.

With that in mind, to keep him in the story, you'd have 2 choices:

a) Build up a new conflict for Izzy, which would take a lot of screen time that we do not have bc next season is the last and we don't even know how many episodes Max is gonna order (and the resolution to Ed and Stede's story has to be the priority).

b) Just keep him around doing things in the background like other minor characters, just a pleasant background presence with no real function. Which honestly? Would've been a disservice to both character and actor. I think having Izzy go out with a blaze of glory of sorts both honors the character and gives Con O'Neill the chance to show off his skill, and that was the right call from the Doylist perspective.

2— I didn't like what I perceived as Ed being passive in the final "break up" with Izzy, I read it as only Izzy making the choice of letting go, but that's not really what happens. Ed could've chosen to go full Blackbeard again and go get revenge, and in that way keep sacrificing his true self for Izzy's sake. But he actively chooses to build his happiness with Stede instead <3

3— As many people have pointed out, both Izzy's death (as THE representative of traditional piracy) and the destruction of Republic of Pirates symbolize the end of piracy as we know it at the hands Prince Ricky. It's a massive change in the status quo of that universe and it sets potentially very interesting scenarios for season 3.

4— Izzy's death contextualizes and makes more meaningful both Ed's choice to remain in land and the crew's choice to remain pirates.

On perspective, someone important had to die in the final episode. The whole of s2 has been about showing the harsher realities of piracy, which haunted the narrative in s1 but were never explicitly visible (you could consider the Kraken scenes in s1 ep 10 a sneak peek). Piracy becoming more realistic and less fairytale-like (not hyper realistic either, this still a surreal comedy in which people turn into seagulls) could be linked to Stede and Ed getting a more realistic perspective of romantic relationships, as well. Crucially, what was missing from this exploration of piracy was a meaningful death. We've been told often that risk of death is a big part of that world, but we've never really *seen* it in a meaningful way (RIP Ivan who died offscreen). A big death was needed to contextualize the decisions that all the characters make at the end of the season and that set the stage for season 3. And again, if you're gonna kill someone, it's better if it is a character that has finished his arc and has no loose ends, and that's Izzy.

This death is a tangible reminder of the cost of living as a pirate. A sudden end can happen to anyone at any time (and Izzy got inmensely lucky that he didn't die in the battlefield and kept breathing for long enough to say goodbye). With full understanding of the costs, Ed decides to leave piracy as he always wanted, but the crew decides to recommit to it.

The crew's choice to remain pirates despite the cost it's even more significant if it turns out they're the only crew that managed to scape the destruction of Republic of Pirates. They are among the last pirates in the Caribbean (I really hope that Anne Bonny, Mary Read and Hellkat Maggie are still alive and kicking somewhere, though). And now "the new Revenge" has the opportunity and the responsibility of rebuilding piracy in a fresh and better way, inbued of all the ways Stede's captaincy has made all of them kinder.

So yeah. Izzy's death ties everything narratively and thematically in a neat little ribbon. So I'm still gonna miss the little rabid rat, but I'm at peace with it, I'm zen, I'm like a fisherman contemplating the universe in a fish scale.

(I'd still like it if they brought Izzy back as some kind of pirate revenant. I don't know how the fuck that would make sense at a thematic level, but I do love stories about the undead)

#im not mentioning stede more in this bc he would've always chosen ed no matter any other factor #thats a no brainer #ofmd #ofmd meta #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands #ed teach #the crew of the revenge

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brighttears · 1 year

Text

Adored

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description, no use of y/n

Summary: Joel has dedicated himself not to letting anyone in, but when he stumbles upon you right as he begins his trek to Wyoming, it’s a direct hit.

Warnings: violence

Word count: 3k

A/n: This is going to be part 1 of a continuing (slow burn) story!! Also: Tess is not present in this fic, maybe Ellie will come in later I’m not sure :/

–

The last 20 years have encrusted Joel in a layer of aloof distaste to most things in general, cut only with a developed taste for violence. In the first few years of it all he kept count of how many Infected he’d killed versus… the people like him. He let it torture him for a good few years until he didn’t have room to hold count anymore, pushed out of his mind by survival techniques, how many bullets he had left, and where his brother was at.

By the time Tommy left him, that thick film of forced detachment had grown into its job armoring his heart. The slicing pain of his brother leaving caught him off guard, thinking he’d done a good job at shutting these things out. But the following days of ache exposed to him a new fear: it might never stop hurting. No matter what he did, he could not stop the pain– fuck a blade, a bullet, fuck being ripped apart by monsters, none of that compares to the way that loss burrows its way in; the only way past it has been to let the muscles of his heart grow around the barbs.

In his second attempt after Tommy left, Joel drew his defense out, setting up the barricades much farther away from his heart. The only way to avoid being stabbed is not letting them get close enough.

And over the next decade or so he continued to hone his skill, recoiling at any attempt of human connection.

Distance became part of his personality–one of three traits, the others being brutality and persistence. And that's how he likes it; it’s as comfortable a spot he’s found in the diabolic rot of the world that’s buried him alive.

Much to his dismay, it was proven to Joel again and again and again that nothing he does will be enough to safeguard his heart’s sanity.

Still, he’s kept up the act, hoping that one day–‘This time’,–the dam would hold.

He can’t keep all of himself behind bars, though–his desires, even the dregs of hopes and dreams from his past life, though admittedly dimmed, have stayed earnestly true.

In any case, what Joel wants more than anything–more than food, sleep, shelter–is to be loved.

No matter how much he tries to drown it out, he craves warmth, closeness, and–dare he even say the word–softness. And buried somewhere deep inside is a longing to be held.

But he knows, in fact, he’s hammered it into his brain, that all of that is impossible. Teasing the idea as being a tangible goal would be a cruel joke. Daydreaming, even in only the most private of seconds, is a luxury he just can’t afford.

Joel drags yearning as a ball and chain behind him.

The routine that the Boston QZ offered him has been a good tool to dull the pain though, because it consisted only of soul crushing activities such as burning bodies, shoveling shit, having nightmares, being on either side of an unfair bargain, violence, throwing back old, expensive pills with shitty, expensive liquor, and drowning in the adrenaline of a venture out into the open city every once in awhile, pursuing whatever came along with it without judgment. Along with all that, Joel assigned the purpose of his survival to finding Tommy. So, he kept himself pretty busy.

Never busy enough, though, because he still found himself in empty spots wherein his mind would wander, walking straight into fantasy’s trap and the tearing pain of their jaws snapping him back into reality. He has yet to find a way to break free from his (confidentially) soft core.

But, again, Joel is, if nothing else at all, persistent.

Having said all that, when do things ever go the way he wants them to?

You caught him completely by surprise, both literally and figuratively–your first interaction being locking eyes, followed by you ducking as he instinctively raises his rifle and shoots the Infected seconds away from taking you down. What fucking instincts are these, though? Joel has no connection to you whatsoever, yet he just saved your life with barely a beat of hesitation. In any other situation, you would have been nothing more than an extra few seconds of cover to help him to escape.

As soon as the body thuds on the ground you shoot back up, his and your eyes still wide in shock. In between the decision to bolt or thank him, you flinch, driven mostly by the confusion of why this stranger just saved your life. This moment of hesitation promptly bites you in the ass as you lose your footing and slip as soon as you move to flee.

“FUCK,” you land chest first having succeded only in rotating back to the way you came, and immediately scurry onto your back, only to drop the ball once again when the worn down soles of your shoes won’t grip the concrete floor when you try pushing yourself away, leaving you sliding like a clawed cat on hardwood floor with another “FUCK.”

As you struggle Joel lowers his gun and puts a hand up to try and signal that he means no harm (this motive, or lack thereof, again puzzling him just about as much as it does you).

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he reassures you with his southern drawl, “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Before he finishes that sentence you’ve pulled the pistol from your hip and aim it at his head, panting.

“Why did you just do that?” you ask sternly.

“Do what?”

“Do that, fucking–shoot that thing? Why didn’t you just let it kill me?”

“I–I—I honestly don’t know, okay? Just put the gun down.”

You stay stationary, glaring at him and breathing heavily through your nose.

“Hey, I just saved your fuckin’ life. Put… the gun… down.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do that.” You retort.

“I know you didn’t, but you’re still alive, right? A ‘thank you’ would be nice. Look, if I wanted to kill you you’d be dead by now. Now put the gun down.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to get that gun outta my goddamn face.”

You pause before telling him, “Put down the rifle.”

“Now why the fuck would I do that when you have a gun pointed at me?”

“Because I have a fucking gun pointed at you. Do it.”

Joel sighs through his nose, slowly lowering himself to place the rifle down then easing himself back to stand with his hands in the air.

“Ok, now can you please–”

“Kick it over.”

“Goddamnit.” Joel murmurs before he does what he’s told.

By the time he gets out “Now please–”, you’ve uncocked and lowered your gun, but keep it in your hands with your arms straight, ready to aim it right back at him if need be.

“What do you want?” You demand again.

“I don’t want anything, okay?”

“Then why did you do that?”

“Like I said, I don’t know. Honest.”

Your brows knit for a split second in confusion. “You ‘don’t know’?” You say almost mockingly.

“No, I don’t.” Joel is glaring right back at you now, not appreciating your tone.

Neither of you move for a good 30 seconds before Joel raises his eyebrows and shrugs his upraised hands, “Can I put my hands down or are you gonna shoot me?”

After a moment of consideration, you can’t see why that’s really necessary anymore, sigh and then nod lightly, tucking your gun back into the belt of your pants and getting to your feet.

“Okay, so now what?” Joel asks, but loses interest in the answer now that he’s getting a proper look at you instead of focusing only on whether or not you’re about to shoot him. He curses the butterfly in his chest (the lone survivor after all these years of smothering these kinds of feelings) as his eyes slowly drag over you before coming back to your gaze. Then he argues over whether or not he saw that flicker in your eye and if it means what he thinks it might or if he’s fooling himself or maybe his mind has just finally snapped and he’s going insane.

“Well, I’m going to go, and you’re not going to follow me.” you reply after a moment.

“Hey, wait,” Joel acts on a bewildering impulse calling out after you, but when you stop and turn back he can’t find anything to follow it up with, “um”ing to stall.

“Where'r you from?” What the fuck am I doing?

“Why do you care?”

“I’m from the uh, Boston QZ.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“Probably ‘bout the same thing you’re tryna’ do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Survive.” That’s a corny ass fuckin’ answer.

“I mean that is the general idea. Why are you out here though? Too boring in the QZ?”

“No…I'm trying to find my brother.” Joel, shut the fuck up. Why don’t you tell her your goddamn social security number while you’re at it? Shit, no one gives a fuck about social security numbers anymore you moro–

“Who’s your brother?”

“His name is Tommy,” Joel closes his eyes in inner frustration. Why are you still talking? “He’s in Wyoming.”

“Older or younger?”

“Younger.”

“Why isn’t he with you?”

“Long story.”

“Give me the short version.”

“Well, we got separated.”

“No shit.”

Joel huffs.

“He was with me since the beginning, outbreak day, y'know? We found some people, it worked for awhile. Then we ran into some Fireflies and one of them convinced him to join em'. N' Ive gotta go get him."

“Your brother’s a firefly?”

“Well, last I heard, no, not anymore.”

“How do you know he’s not dead?”

“Because I talked to him.” Joel lies.

“How?”

“Radio back in the QZ.” “They let you use a radio?”

“No, but I know a guy.” Joel finds himself again and adds, “You ask a lotta goddamn questions.” Your answer surprises him–“Fine. Ask me something.”

“...Where are you from?”

“Narnia.” he breathes sharp out of his nose at your deadpan joke.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Surviving.” You remark, not as funny this time as Joel realizes your offer may have been empty. To make matters worse, he’s genuinely curious about you.

“Hey, I answered your questions.”

After looking at him for a few seconds, you cast your eyes to the ground, give him a small nod, and answer, “Honestly, I’m just wandering.”

“Just wanderin’?”

“Yup.”

Well, do you want to come with me? “Yer alone?”

“Why?”

“Jesus, I told you, I don’t want anything from you. I’m not tryna’ hurt you. I’m just askin’.”

"Well I know what you're really asking, and I can handle myself." You cross your arms and puff out your chest.

“Really? Cause last I saw I was the only thing stoppin’ you from gettin’ mauled by a mushroom.”

“Well–” The stranger before Joel pauses, blinks and bites her lip and drops her head, “thank you. For that,”

Joel swallows hard and is suddenly aware of his breathing. Is his heart beating faster than usual? Does his hair look alright? Shit. He feels like a middle schooler looking at the pertiest girl on the playground, which makes him feel like a fucking buffoon because he’s a fifty-something-year-old man staring at a stranger in an abandoned building with a fungus monster bleeding out behind her. It was as if he hadn’t seen a woman since before the world fell apart. Obviously, he’d seen plenty, but he’d never seen you. It’s not just looks, though; there’s something else. But what is it about you that has him so squirrely?

All Joel knows is he doesn’t want you to slip through his fingers. And yes, his heart is beating a little faster than usual (and it would have slowed by now if it was from having a gun pointed at him–that becomes less exciting after a couple decades).

“…but it was a one time thing. I’ve managed to get along fine without anyone’s help–” “So you are alone.”

“–Fuck.”

Joel stops a chuckle and catches you doing the same, a smile flashing across your face. That cockroach of a butterfly pipes back up and Joel tries to shut it up with a loud clearing of his throat. Then the line he’s been looking for pops into his head.

“Well, you could obviously use more cover, and I could too.” He can’t get himself to look at you, like saying he might be able to use a little help is telling you he wets the bed every night, “It could have been me just now, you know.” he clears his throat again, “So, if you want to…” Stay with me “just, you know, have some extra cover, for a few days…” I can protect you “you can, y’know, come with me if you want.” Please.

Please? The word sounds foreign even just in his head.

“Ok.” you suck in your bottom lip, looking him in the eyes while you consider the offer. You hate owing someone something and you fucking hate that you owe him now, and you tell yourself you’ll settle on sticking with this stupidly handsome, mysteriously captivating, puppy-dog eyed stranger who you swear is giving you a look that makes your heart skip a beat which is fucking stupid just until you’re out of debt. Plus, you only have one gun and see at least three on him. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Joel breathes, trying not to be distracted by the way you’re looking into his eyes, breaking the contact to cock his head to the right, towards the way out and onto the road.

Rich green ivy wraps around the trellis you walk under made from the network of iron rod bones from a large fallen chunk of building. All around you are the colossal ruins of the once immortal seeming city, blanketed in liberated nature which was a breathtaking sight years ago before it grew old and became equated with danger and death. Other than intermittent bird calls and your footsteps over glass it’s silent until you emerge out and onto the open highway.

You’re the first to speak, sounding a little embarrassed, “You know, I'm not usually that… ungraceful.”

Joel finds himself once again mystified by his reaction, which is to say something to try to make you feel better—“Well, better than I could ever do.” He cringes at himself.

It stays quiet awhile more until you ask, “So you know where you’re going right? I mean you know which direction to go in?”

“Yeah, I know where to go. I wanna try to find a workin’ car, though. Faster.” Yeah, of course a car’ll be fuckin’ faster. Joel isn’t used to being so insecure since he’s had no reason to want to impress anyone with his social skills in… quite some time, but now he can’t quit kicking himself inside of his head. He takes a deep breath to try to calm the inner critique nagging in his ear.

“You got gas?”

“...No. We’ll need that too.” Obviously, you fucking–Joel clears his throat loudly, twice.

“So, you got food?” he asks you.

“Yup.” you want to lie, but it wouldn’t make much sense seeing that you’re traveling together, so you admit, “Some… a little.” In full truth, you’ve got half a granola bar.

“Well once we get up to those cars we can see what we can find. What kinda weapons you got?”

You sniff and glance around, embarrassed and wanting to lie again. You don’t.

“Just the one uh, gun. I’ve got knives, though.”

“How many?”

“Two. Okay, I’m not making a very good case for myself but I am very self sustaining.”

“Sure you are.”

“Hey, fuck you man, you just met me.”

“Yeah, well you just met me and I saved your life and’ve got two guns on you.”

“Well, give me one then.”

He gives you a look that makes you chuckle, and his eyes linger on your smile.

After a couple hours of digging through a mile long mess of cars you eventually come across, you do in fact finally find one that works, then working together siphoning as much gas as you can from any cars with some drops still left in them. With the new extra room, you search through the mess gathering as many (non-expired, or at least not too long expired) items of food as you can, plus whatever else looks substantially useful, load up, and hit the road.

Joel glances at you rooting through the car, flipping down the visors, rummaging in the glove box, then getting up to lean around and stick your hands into the pockets on the back of the seats (and Joel tries his darndest to keep his eyes–mostly–on the road instead of full on swiveling his head to check out your ass).

“Oh, what a fucking find!” You exclaim and bounce back into your seat.

You ignore Joel when he tells you “Hey, put your seatbelt on.” and instead gleefully snap the cassette out of its case and into the player.

The song starts off slow and ambient and Joel doesn’t recognize it.

You read it on his face and gasp, “You don’t know this song?” He tries to respond but can’t find anything.

“Well, you are in for a treat.”

"Put your seatbelt on."

Guitar and vocals roll in.

I don’t have to sell my soul

He’s already in me

I don’t need to sell my soul

He’s already in me

I wanna be adored

You’re all smiles and it’s distracting, but Joel can’t really tell you that to make you stop, but he also can’t really stop being distracted. He grips the wheel.

I wanna be adored

The sun is setting and unfortunately for Joel, golden light casts onto your angelic face, your inviting neck, and down fantabulously past your collarbones.

You adore me

Joel curses himself for the way you drip over his mind, and how he’s letting it happen. Hasn’t he been over this before? Will he never learn his fucking lesson? There isn’t room in him, in this world, for this desire that baits him ruthlessly. If he succumbs, what will become of him? Of you?

If he submits, he’s sure it’ll be the death of you. It’ll be the death of him no doubt, but he can handle that. What he can’t fucking handle, no matter how any times he has, is losing someone else. He’s sure that if he loves you, you’ll die young.

I wanna

I wanna be adored

Joel has poisoned his brain with pessimism and self hatred. He claims the excuse that he can’t help it; of course he feels this way. It’s always been his fault, it is his fault, it will always be his fault.

I wanna

I wanna be adored

He barely knows you at all, just this morning he had no idea you existed. But god, what a meteor you are. And how much he wants to be loved by you.

I wanna

I gotta be adored

#the last of us #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo

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elijowa · 8 months

Text

The Nice and Accurate Observations of Good Omens by Elijowa, Fan

Being a Close Re-Watching of Season 1 in the Light of What We Now Know from Season 2

Containing therein Analyses of Crowley, Aziraphale and their Relationship throughout the Show

Episode One

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So I have a confession to make. I've only ever watched Good Omens Season 1 twice and Season 2 once.

I know, I know, I need to get my priorities straightened out! How can I possibly be a fan if I've only got a mere 18h of watch-time under my belt? What can I say? Life keeps on getting in the way.

Anyway, I decided to treat myself with a close re-watching of Season 1 and see what jumps out at me now that we have new information from Season 2. You're very welcome to follow along or ignore these ramblings as you please!

So, without further ado, I present my thoughts on S1E1.

(Much, much more below the cut)

Let's start with the big one:

Crowley and Aziraphale don't appear to be in love - or even "in like" - during Episode 1.

So, picture this: I'm settling down with lots of warm fuzzy anticipation for all the stolen glances and hesitant hand gestures between Aziraphale and Crowley that I was sure I had either missed or forgotten about from my previous two viewings, and I make a surprising discovery:

There aren't any.

They barely seem to like each other in this episode - they are quite distant and snarky with each other (not the affectionate teasing banter that we've come to know and love, but almost a condescending snideness).

I can't see this version of Aziraphale trusting this version of Crowley to aim a live firearm at him (in fact, in the very next episode, he isn't even comfortable with the demon pointing a paintgun at him). And this version of Crowley would not dream of following Aziraphale around to help him fulfil his dream of being a professional conjuror, and actually actively discourages him from pursuing the notion (although, as many people have pointed out, it's amusing to think that this is because of happened the last time he did this).

So what gives? If there are people saying that the ending of S2E6 doesn't make sense (it does) because it betrays the millennia-long journey these characters have been on (it doesn't) - then I feel like we ought to be having that same discussion about the beginning of S1E1.

OK, OK. Obviously there are lots of 'out-of-universe' reasons for this inconsistency in the portrayal of C & A's relationship. This is the first episode of a new series and not all of the audience will be familiar with these characters; it's necessary to start them in the position of being hereditary enemies in order to give them room to grow and change; the show is a faithful adaptation of the book in which there's basically no romantic tension between the A & C at all, and Neil Gaiman is on record saying he didn't want to make any big changes this relationship, since he could sadly no longer consult with Terry Pratchett. Plus, S2 hadn't been written at this point, so there are undoubtedly details that Mr Gaiman didn't yet know with regards to the shared history of Crowley and Aziraphale while writing S1.

My current theory is that the infamous "You go too fast for me Crowley" line was NOT Aziraphale saying "please be patient with me because I need more time to catch up to where you are in our relationship". Rather, it was him saying, "I can't keep doing this. It was fun while it lasted but it's time I grew up, faced reality and put this silly little crush behind me. So goodbye forever." And he meant it.

But where's the fun in just talking about real-world reasons when we can come up with lots of juicy headcanons instead?!

From Crowley's point of view, I think that by now he'd be used to Aziraphale having periodic wobbles about their friendship. And so, from experience, he knows the best way to handle it is to back all the way off until Aziraphale has 'completed his process', is ready to re-engage again - maybe in a couple of hundred years - and things can go back to what Crowley thinks of as normal.

But knowing all this doesn't make it any less hurtful or frustrating to be rejected because of who he is. So maybe Crowley throws himself back into his bad boy role with a bit more venom than usual - still not doing anything directly evil per se, just enough to tick the boxes on some Hellish paperwork (bringing down mobile networks, designing the M25). Maybe he's more likely to foment discontent while simultaneously not really caring about anything he does either way, because what's even the point if he doesn't have his angelic foil around to wind up/impress?

And normally they would both have about a century or two to successfully work through their respective feelings, and so when they eventually reconnect they can slip back into their comfortable familiarity with relative ease. But the birth of the Antichrist screws up this schedule, truncates both of their coping processes, and means neither of them are quite ready to be best buds again. Hence their 'more prickly than what we might expect' attitudes towards each other in Episode One.

Hooo boy. I feel like I've barely even got half way through all the things I noticed and want to talk about in S1E1, but I think I need to save it for another time or we'll be here for all ineffable eternity. Well done if you made it this far and thanks for coming along for the ride!

#please be gentle this is my first proper attempt at writing anything meta #good omens meta #good omens s1 #good omens rewatch #Aziraphale #Crowley #good omens headcanons

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flameofthescorpion · 8 months

Text

Ramblings of someone way to hyperfixiated on Nevadas "Nowhere" (Headcanons - Apparatus designs applied)

EYESTRAIN WARNING LATER DOWN IN THE POST!

Sooooooooo welcome to me rambling about outside of Nevada because god we dont talk about the Machine alot and it greatly upsets me so imma do it.

Do keep in mind this is all headcanon and applies to my appartus designs, so it may not apply as well to canon

Now the Nowhere, or also called the "Curtain Of Nevada", is what happens if you leave the borders of Nevada, also called the World Borders

The world border is the main thing keeping the area secluded and together in the world of Nevada, meaning nothing exists outside the borders, HOWEVER, due to this area being quiet big for the Machine to host on one single server, it cut up Nevada into different sections where loading is required, now loading for Nevadeans is simply spacing out for a second and then good is, for the Machine however it is necessary to manage everything on an organized level. The 4 zones would be Nexus City, Somewhere, Nevada Central and due to the Demoniac cult activities both Stygian and the Machine are in unison to have cut the Haunting House into its own seperate loading area to keep the improbability levels at least somewhat contained so it doesnt overflow with the drive active.

If you looked at the image closely you would have noticed some points on the world borders where it says "Enter Zone", Enter Zones are exactly what their name entails. While the world is indeed stable, theres some part of the border where its easier to cross behind "the curtain" than it is on others.

Now what i will have to elaborate on is exactly what i mean in the context of "curtain" Its quiet simple really Nevadeans and mortals in general do NOT see reality as it is, they see a simple illusionary curtain to keep their sanity stable. HOWEVER, the employers are complex enough to see the world for what it really is as they were built by the machine to keep order and to protect its very system which is everywhere and nowhere at the same time

Reality in actuality consists of corners, chains and platforms, or in the most simple definition i can give it The Machines Skeleton.

However only the employers can IN NORMAL SITUATIONS SEE THIS. Is it possible for Nevadeans to Noclip behind the curtain and see what reality really consists of? Yes but its not nearly as clear as the employers can

They can still see of course but massively impaired due to the fact they werent SUPPOSED to see this all. And their vision is not the only negative effects theyll take from going behind the curtain, because there is indeed 2 different scenarios:

Scenario 1: The Employers acting as the Machines security system would most likely notice this new arrival, and Auditor, being the first to usually take care of this issue, would rip them to utter shreds as now this Nevadean would pose a threat to the system due to having directly interacted with it.

Scenario 2: They are lucky enough to notice this isnt good and noclip back before any of the employers get alerted of their arrival. Even in this case they arent truely off the Hook as they either A. go insane from what their mind has just witnessed B. If enough mental collection is present, turn into a disquieted.

Some beings such as The S-3lf Eater however will not be affected by this as it was deliberatly built to suck energy off the Machine, due to this the Employers cant detect it as a threat either, essentially, its a parasite. (that was what the comic yesterday was about BTW)

Reality overall is a topic that not many talk about because only few know of the Machine as a concept, mostly only Dr Gonne, who abused this knowledge, 2BDamned who also abused said knowledge however in favour of the Maker and the Cyberbandits who have a way stronger connection to the Machine as it is "the serverhost".

Is a connection of the Machine, aka the server, ever SEVERED with a Nevadean it would have devestating effects on the Nevadean. The second the connection to "The Server" is gone, the Nevadean will IMMIDIANTLY loose most of their recollection and personality as the machine is the one storing the data of such. In most cases one of the younger employers, either Conductor or Auditor help to re-connect this individual with the Machine....or well if not i think we all know what they would do.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk im so sorry if none of this made sense im very passionate about my favourrite Higher Power, love the metal crab-

#madness combat #madcom #bro i could still ramble on forever #but i wanted this to make sense damnit!

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lovesicks4pphic · 1 year

Text

Beneath The Surface

(Chapter 1 of 2)

Rating: E

Summary: Early S5. Erotically-charged parasite checks.

Read on AO3 here.

Another case, another road trip, another unexplained phenomenon.

This one had led them to a small town at the edge of a vast forest - a forest that the locals believed held the key to recent mysterious deaths. The most popular theory, and the one Mulder argued was most plausible, was that recent logging activity had uncovered something deadly. However, until they could either prove or debunk said theory, they were stuck there.

As night fell, the forest was plunged into darkness, eerily still and shrouded in silence. The waning crescent of the moon cast a mere sliver of light, barely enough to make out much under the thick cover of the evergreens.

Nestled there amongst the trees was a hunting lodge, the agents’ home for the night. With its cozy interior of wood-paneled walls and rustic decor, it was almost possible to forget the dangerous unknown that lurked in the shadows.

Scully glanced down at her watch. 1.45am. The fire crackled quietly in the corner of the room, the only real sound as the unlikely group pored over files and photographs.

“Alright, folks. I’m calling it a day.” The burly sheriff sighed, rubbing his hand over tired eyes. “We’ll head back out in the morning, there’s nothing more we can do now.”

He stood, pausing to give them a somber look.

“Any of you get in trouble, you shout.”

There were a few weary acknowledgements in response. The reminder of the danger they were facing was entirely unnecessary. The sheriff gave one final nod to the room, readjusted his belt, and disappeared upstairs. That left just Mulder, Scully, a local journalist, a park ranger and a guy who worked at the nearest gas station.

Not long after, the others followed.

“He’s right.” The ranger tossed the pictures he’d been looking at onto the table. “This is bullshit. I’m going to bed.”

“Agreed.” The gas station attendant said.

“Don’t stay up too late, you two.” The journalist waved to the agents.

Scully looked up from the file in her lap and gave him a polite smile. She couldn’t promise that.

Footsteps retreated into the hallway and the stairs creaked before it was silent once again. Scully glanced over at her partner. This was the first time they’d been alone since arriving in town that morning. His stance mirrored her own as they sat cross-legged on the carpet, his floppy hair falling in his face and the shadow of his jaw illuminated by the soft light of the fire.

“Mulder.” She said, and he met her gaze instantly. “What do you really think happened to the deputy?”

He shrugged.

“Exactly what the sheriff told us, Scully. You saw the marks on his spine.”

The deputy had been the third victim in as many weeks to be found dead in the forest, face-down in the undergrowth. Autopsies had revealed strange welts on their backs, like something had been trying to escape. The cause of death was still a mystery. To Scully, it appeared as though their bodies had been devoured from the inside out.

“But it makes no sense how this parasite moves between hosts. The three victims have no relation to one another, in fact it’s not clear whether they ever met.”

“It’s a small town, Scully. They’ve met.” Mulder raised a brow. “But they didn’t get it through close contact. They got it from here, from the forest. The answer has to be out there.”

He gestured to the window, to the seemingly infinite darkness just outside.

Part of Scully wanted to roll her eyes at his insistence, at his typically confident belief in his theories. But the other part of her, admittedly a far larger portion, felt a warmth rush through her, a thrill unlike any other.

Two months ago, she was laying in a hospital bed, watching Mulder leave for what she truly believed might be the last time. The fear of never seeing him again, of him continuing their journey alone, was so close to a reality. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was here now, beside him again.

Her cancer had revealed to her just how much she relied on him, on their work. It had kept her going. And then, when it couldn’t, he had been there for her, undeterred by Bill’s glares, smiling down at her despite it all. The press of his lips to her cheeks, her hands, was a lifeline in the face of uncertainty.

Presently, sitting there across from him, she had a new-found sense of appreciation for this man and his predictability. There were other feelings too, ones that had lay dormant for a while but were slowly re-emerging as her strength returned and her body thrummed with life once again. She feared that the flush on her cheeks might give those particular feelings away if she stared at him much longer.

“You okay, Scully?” Mulder asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern at her silent gaze.

She’d been caught.

“I’m fine.” She looked away and started fussing with the paper around her before standing, shuffling awkwardly. “I think I’ll head up too.”

He nodded and rose to his feet, apparently ready for bed too, much to Scully’s surprise. She sometimes wondered if he ever slept at all. Without a word, he followed as she ascended the stairs.

The lodge they were staying at had four bedrooms. The journalist was in a single room whilst one of the twin rooms had been assigned to the sheriff and ranger and the other to the gas station guy and Mulder. As the only woman, the sheriff had been insistent that Scully take the double room.

Scully went to push open her door when she heard Mulder call out to her quietly. She turned to face him. He had his back to the door of his own room, watching her cautiously. At her expectant expression, he crossed the small space between them.

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving you, Scully.” He admitted, his voice low as not to wake the others.

“I can take care of myself, Mulder.”

She opened the door and stepped inside but he was right behind her.

“What if you can’t?”

“Mulder, if I start to feel unwell, I’ll let you know.”

“But that’s the thing, Scully.” He was still speaking quietly but his tone carried a sense of urgency. “You won’t know until it’s too late.”

She wasn’t stupid, she knew he was being overly-protective because of what had happened to her, still so fresh in both their minds. Arguing with him was the last thing she wanted right now but she wasn’t sure if her reassurance would be enough.

“Mulder.” She sighed. “If any of us were going to become infected, it would most likely be you. You were the one jumping in ditches, climbing up trees and poking around in that gunk.”

He was silent, his eyes falling to the floor. For a moment, she thought maybe she had convinced him. Then he looked up and the intensity in his gaze almost knocked her over.

“I can’t lose you, Scully.” He said. “I won’t.”

It was like a punch to the gut.

“Okay.” She whispered. “Okay.”

She swallowed, slightly fearful of the answer to the question she was about to ask.

“Do you want to check me?”

He nodded, face unreadable.

“Okay, just- um.”

“You can check me first.” He offered. “If that would make you more comfortable.”

Nothing about this would be comfortable but at least it might give her some more time to mentally prepare for his reciprocation. She could already feel those new-but-not-so-new feelings swirling in her gut, visions of the last time they had done this playing out in her mind.

A storage locker in the arctic, the soft expanse of his skin beneath her palms, his solid hand on the back of her neck. They hadn’t even ventured further than the shoulders and it was enough to plague her fantasies for months. They hardly even knew each other back then. That was before they had been forced apart and come back to each other like magnets over and over again, before she had fucked someone else and thought about him, before she nearly kissed someone else thinking it was him, before she almost died without telling him how she really felt.

“Sure.” She agreed, hoping she sounded more certain than she was.

She turned the lamp on beside her bed, casting the room in a warm light. It was just enough for the purpose of what they were about to do without being too harsh. Although harsh might’ve been better, more clinical. Getting nearly naked with Mulder in a softly-lit bedroom felt like crossing a line.

“We only need to check each other’s backs. Just the bits we can’t do ourselves.” He said as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

He’d never had any qualms about changing in front of her and now here he was again, stripping down with zero hesitation. Was he that keen to feel her touch? Did he share the same desires as her? Or was he simply unbothered?

“You’ll need to be firm though.” He continued, pulling her from her musings. “We don’t know how deep this thing can bury.”

He was dropping his clothes onto an ottoman at the foot of her bed as he removed them, revealing more and more skin. He was facing away from Scully so thankfully he couldn’t see the way her eyes were drawn to the muscles rippling in his back.

When he was down to just his boxer briefs and socks, he threw her a look over his shoulder.

“Ready when you are.”

Scully stepped closer, willing her heart to stop racing. She was checking him for a deadly parasite so that he wouldn’t get eaten alive during his sleep. It was decidedly unsexual. But when she entered his personal space, the scent of his cologne and something else entirely him encompassed her, drawing her to him, and she felt her knees go weak. If the parasite didn’t kill her, this just might.

“Bend down a little.” She instructed quietly.

He did just that, widening his stance and shifting himself slightly lower. This was better, she thought, now she could reach his head. She’d checked this part of him a thousand times over the years, looking for bumps and bruises while he of course insisted that he was fine. This would be a nice, neutral place to start, she thought.

She ran her fingers through his hair, focusing on the task at hand to avoid thinking about what came next. Lean muscles beneath her fingertips, the dip of his spine, those long, toned runner’s legs.

“Mm.” He hummed in his throat when her nails unintentionally scraped his scalp. She froze, the sound sending heat straight to her core. Her cheeks reddened. So much for neutral.

“Your head’s clear.” She announced. “You can stand up straight again.”

She took a deep breath, now eye-level with his shoulders. Slowly, she reached out, pressing her thumbs into the flesh of his neck, gently at first and then firmer like he’d said, sliding them down and across. Moving slightly lower, she repeated the action.

“That feels nice.” He said. She couldn’t tell if she was imagining the hint of roughness in his voice. “If the G-woman career ever fails, you could make a pretty good masseuse, Scully.”

“Thanks.” She blushed, grateful he couldn’t see her reaction to the praise.

She continued feeling her way along his shoulders. It was probably a more thorough inspection than strictly necessary, and whilst she had started out with the intention of getting this over and done with as quickly as possible, she found herself getting lost in the feel of him. His skin was so warm and pliant beneath her touch, it was almost hypnotic. The urge to press her lips against him struck her, unbidden.

He groaned suddenly when her thumb encountered a knot and her heart leapt into her throat.

“Sorry.” She whispered.

“No, it’s okay.” He replied, definitely huskier now. “Feels good.”

He rolled his shoulders a few times and tilted his head side-to-side, working out the kinks. When he stilled again, she tentatively resumed her inspection.

The silence hung heavy in the air as she reached his lower back, pressing her fingers into the skin just above his waistband, staring at the dimples there. Though they hadn’t discussed it, she knew he wasn’t expecting her to start kneading his ass. She let herself imagine it though, just for a moment, her gaze dropping to the round flesh defined by the tight cotton of his underwear.

What would it feel like, she wondered. She pictured him above her, strong arms either side of her head, dark eyes staring down into her own as he moved between her legs, her fingers digging into his ass and pulling him against her, forcing him deeper, harder.

“Scully?”

“Sorry.” She quickly apologized, realizing she had been totally spaced out and tracing the same patch of skin on his hip over and over. “You’re clear.”

“Okay.” He sighed, sounding relieved.

“I’ll do your legs next.”

He looked over his shoulder, probably to ask if she wanted to change positions, but she was already dropping to her knees behind him. She heard him make a choked little sound in his throat but she did her best to ignore it, just as she tried to ignore the fact that his ass was now right there.

She started with his calves, thumbs running over the firm muscle. Above her, she could tell that he was holding his breath. He would go silent for a few moments and then release a shaky exhale. Sometimes his breath caught on a slight groan and she’d shiver in response.

When she reached his thighs, she felt his hamstrings twitching beneath the pads of her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted his fists clenching and unclenching and her stomach bottomed out at the thought of him being just as aroused as she was.

She wondered if he turned around whether there’d be a bulge in his boxers. The image of it had her feeling dizzy. She wished he would turn around. See her on her knees before him. Gently thread his fingers through her hair, brush his clothed cock against her cheek before slipping it free and guiding it into her mouth. She knew it was filthy, but she no longer cared.

Her thoughts were spiraling fast. She couldn’t remember ever wanting him this badly before. She felt feral with the urge to touch and taste, to have her mouth on every inch of him. Her clit throbbed and she clenched her thighs together. If she had ever had any doubts about whether her sex drive would return to her, those worries were certainly quashed now. It was back with a vengeance.

“Are you done?” Mulder’s voice interrupted and she blinked, jolted back to the sharp reality of the situation they were in.

“Yeah.” She swallowed. “Yes, you’re all clear.”

She sat back on her haunches, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her mind, while he grabbed his vest and pants and slipped them back on, keeping his back to her all the while.

As he fiddled with his buttons and zipper, she got back to her feet, feeling a little unsteady.

“Okay.” He turned to her, his face strangely unreadable. “Your turn.”

#lovesicksapphic #my fic #dana scully #fox mulder #the x files #txf #x files #x files fanfic #xf fanfic #todayinfic #today in fic

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fairycosmos · 2 years

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hey sorry if this is weird but I wanted some advice regarding having sex for the first time,, there’s a likely chance I may be having sex with a guy I like at some point before the month ends and the anxiety of not knowing what I’m doing and being hesitant is rlly throwing me off. I know for sure I’m ready but the performance element is rlly doing me in :/ fyi I’ve not kissed anyone before or been intimate in any way so that definitely adds to it ._.

hiii love well this is just my input so feel free to discard it if u dont vibe with it, but a few things came to mind while i was reading this that i wanted to expand on. the first is like, i hope you know that if you're not ready then you don't have to do it just because there's this expectation/projected time frame for it to happen before the end of the month. what i mean by that is, if you've never experienced physical intimacy before then it's completely normal to be overwhelmed and to not know where to start. and it's ALSO completely normal to want to "build up" to having sex rather than jumping right into it just because the opportunity has arisen. you know? it's alright if you're not "there" with the idea yet, it's natural. you do not have to push yourself into anything to impress this dude, or to feel better about yourself in any way. take ur time. and that's me speaking from unfortunate experience, trust me, it's nottt worth it if you're not 100% feeling it!

however, if that's not the case and you feel genuinely safe and happy with the guy, and with the idea of having sex with him, then here's a few pointers.

1. obviously - practice safe sex, use protection and make sure everything you are doing (and experiencing) is 100% consensual from both ends. lube and basic foreplay can help in terms of slight discomfort, and it's alright to ask for both. know that a lot of pain is not usually normal and it shouldn't be overall physically agonizing by any means.

2. accept that while the feeling of it being a "performance" is very common for women, it is not healthy, nor is it true. it's a learned mentality that is the result of years of being influenced by porn and misogyny, directly or otherwise, and that is its only basis. one of the main ways to combat it is to consciously work at seeing yourself as more than an object by dismantling the "male gaze" in ur own mind, often through therapy and active self-help/rejection of these internalized thinking patterns, but obviously that can take years to really master. ultimately, remind yourself often that sex is an experience shared between two people, not an act you're putting on, not something that is "done" to women. it's usually some variation of awkward, imperfect, funny and ungraceful and that's what makes it real. if neither of you are ready for it to be like that, then it's totally ok to wait until you're a little more comfortable in your own skin before pursuing things further, for the sake of your own mental and physical health. you're not a sex doll or a porn star, and you won't act like you are either, which is something that both ppl need to truly understand and be okay with (because it's completely normal and just like, how reality is lol but i digress.)

3. communicate honestly and openly. i really can't impress the importance of this one enough, like. consistent communication throughout is sooo vital. discuss consent and boundaries beforehand, and during. go through your own boundaries with yourself, too, if needs be. with him, you need to feel comfortable telling each other in the moment what feels right, what doesn't, guiding each other, saying no to anything that makes you uncomfortable or that hurts etc - listening closely goes along way too. basically, you don't have to treat sex like you're putting on a show, or like it's a skill to be improved upon. it's more about making each other feel good, making each other feel heard and experiencing connection with this guy in a new way because you really like and care about him, and he really likes and cares about you.

if you don't feel like it's going to pan out like that for whatever reason, then it's ok to halt the process and take a step back. also, i'm sure you know this but it's also alright for either one of u to revoke consent at any point in the whole experience. i'm talking, you could be right in the middle of it, and if you're not into it - you can and should stop. there's no need to go through with it out of a sense of obligation, and if you think you're susceptible to that happening, again i think it'd be best for you to re-evaluate for now whether this is a position you're emotionally ready to be in. because the aftermath of that sort of thing is very needlessly painful, and can be potentially traumatic. anyway, i think i've rambled enough lmfao whatever happens - i hope you take care of yourself, and take things as slow as you need, there's truly no rush and no harm in doing what's best for you, whatever that looks like. have a good day b <3

#anon #ask to tag #long post

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milfcamilanoceda · 1 year

Text

I posted 103 times in 2022

That's 103 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (8%)

95 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

moringmark

little-bullheaded-shit

smokestarrules

cupcakeshakesnake

squids-and-waffles7

I tagged 102 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

the owl house - 96 posts

camila noceda - 36 posts

hunter noceda - 34 posts

luz noceda - 32 posts

philip wittebane - 14 posts

vee noceda - 13 posts

willow park - 10 posts

darius deamonne - 9 posts

gus porter - 9 posts

queue - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i need camila throwing hands at belos it would be hot and i personally think my needs are way more important than puritan loser over here

My Top Posts in 2022:

Shout out to toh for not only giving us capable, talented, and complex female characters, but also female characters who are just absolutely pathetic. Girllosers. Cringefail wives. Women with atrocious personalities and swagless aura. Unhinged and frothing from the mouth who are also deadly afraid of authority. Women in 30's and above who have 0-1 friends and a beef with some random teenager. Love this diversity, we need more of this

39 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

@fellow Darmila shippers we are not talking enough about the golden dynamics that is Darius being Luz's and Vee's (and probably even Collector's) step father

43 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

Thinking about how Luz's and Eda's childhood photos look messy, chaotic, and lively and just filled with love and fun

Willow's childhood picture are not nearly as chaotic but still imperfect, fun and lively. However while Luz's and Eda's are physical or digital copies Willow's were taken directly out of her memory

Amity's one family portrait that looks perfect and staged, and everything is dark and gloomy and Amity is not happy

Hunter's one childhood picture of him receiving the golden guard role and it is a painting in someone else's memory where his face is hidden

Belos's childhood pictures from his memory were all thrashed and were hidden away in dark dead forest, which were covered up by flashy gold hallways with paintings and murals of him being portrayed as a hero in picturesque perfect scenes and far removed from reality

All the hexsquad pictures are chaotic and messy and happy and lively and showing them in their true element and having fun.

And one interesting thing- the lively chaotic pictures were much closer to show's artstyle than those staged perfect picturesque paintings, and the further they were away from truth, the more different the artstyle became

60 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

Does anyone get sad thinking about how when Eda and co were younger they seem to be close friends but now they are just so estranged with each other? Like it's not even "school friends who lost contact and grew apart with time", some of them seem to actively resent each other before and during the events of the show.

Like we have Eda and Lilith and the entire curse mess who only started to get along after the events of Young Blood, Old Souls

Raeda broke up and only come to contact years later despite still being in love with each other and caring about each other. They still struggle with communication and tendency to keep secrets from one another

Raine and Eda were willing to kill Darius without hesitation. It was not out of malice and definately more out of greater good, a solid plan that Darius clearly appreciated and even encouraged a similar but less deadlier version for the day of unity. But still that was cold and ruthless especially if they were meant to be friends as kids. Not to mention it's "Head Witch Darius!" and "Raine Whispers!" like no familiarity. Absolute strangers. Only reconcilled when their goals aligned

Darius actively resents Alador and Alador doesnt seem to care about him either. They were close with each other and Odalia as kids and yet now the mere mention of Alador just irks Darius.

Odalia just grew up to be such a hateful and greedy person, like as a kid she seems to be someone who just wants to hang around with her friends, and now she doesnt care about anyone at all. Like girl what happened to you?

Perry seems to have nothing to do with any of them. Like he seemed sad when Eda was gonna get petrified even under the strict reporter professionalism but like that is it. (Then again this one is more likely to do with his non existent screen time than anything else)

Alador and Eda's only talk was Eda being rightfully pissed about the factory incident but it also feels like there was more resentment then that.

And just all of them were so separated from each other. Eda was living as a wild witch. Lilith was head of the Emperor's coven and trying to capture Eda and nothing else. Alador and Odalia were in a loveless marriage focusing more on their careers rather then each other and even their own children. Darius and Raine reconnected only when they revealed that their goals aligned. And Perry was doing his own thing.

Like what happened to that friendship both the show and the crew keeps hinting at. Was it a later added thing? Or would we have seen them through flashbacks only for it to be cut out due to disney?

Either way it really makes me sad thinking about so many friends who were potentially close, just growing apart and even starting to resent to each other.

156 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Toh is about idealistic dreams, learning that the real thing is far from perfect, and then learning to be ok with it by either finding beauty in the imperfections or letting it go.

227 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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natsumi-no-hotaru · 2 years

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Chihayafuru #52: Here comes the Yoshino Tournament

AKA. Kanatomu is back and absolutely here to stay.

[Previously: There’s a kind of confidence only Ayase-san can give him.]

Gosh, picking this up after a hiatus of 1.5 years is not gonna be easy, lol. Can’t believe that this partial post on Chihayafuru season 3 episode 2 has sit in my drafts for that long. I would like to blame Netflix for getting me hooked on The End of the F*cking World and Haikyuu, but to be fair, it was Genshin Impact. Okay, fine, it’s me. But I dare you to be unaffected upon the sight of and acquaintance with the one true Queen (of GI, obviously not karuta), I dare you.

... Jokes and finger-pointing aside, I am truly glad to return to rambling about this wonderous world, despite feeling lost and out of tune like Taichi making his way back to karuta in the beginning of season 1. I must admit that I have forgotten quite a bit of what happened in the past seasons - the matches, the characters’ struggles and dynamics. Before sitting down to finish this post, I have re-read my Chihayafuru collections in the hope of filling up the gaps in my recollection but the fact remains that I am truly worried about my ability to do the rest of Season 3 (which is a lot left ahahaha) and the entire Chihayafuru story justice. It is such an intricately and tightly written work thus far, with so much depth and all the details that all tie together.

Nonetheless, seeing Taichi and hearing Miyano Mamoru have never failed to inspire me to do my best at any given moment. So this is for you, Masuge-kun, and me, for us idiots who ran away and could not help coming back to home.

*deep breath* Now that I got that out of my chest, let us go back to episode 52 because Kanatomu is a thing already. I’m just literally waiting for either of them taking the next step of confession because really, it’s just a matter of time that Kanatomu is canon. So excited for them to be actively turning toward each other and walking the same path hand in hand!!

Before snow falls on Yoshino Village

So many heartstrings were tugged on hearing that sweet bumbling hesitancy in his voice.

There’s so much about the opening scene of this episode to love, from Arata’s cute blushy face, the return of his less-seen shy self, to his gentle and whole-hearted conviction in the need to keep the karuta world growing via school teams, which are often regarded by traditionalists as lesser players. It’s truly heartening to see friends cheering on our resident soft-speaking, socially distant boy and him declaring his intention to enter the next national team tournament.

“Our world of karuta can only grow because of team players who keep the game alive, right?”

It was not until this scene that I truly felt the karuta world’s transformative power on Arata and how much he has opened up since his reunion with Chi-chan and Taichi, and his return to karuta. Had it not been for such experience, Arata might have been much more like Shi-chan, closed off and passionate all on her own. While Arata’s plan to form a school team for the national tournament quickly came to a bust, there’s no denying that Arata’s world has vastly opened up, the moment he wished to spread the word of karuta.

Our fun and peaceful school life rounds continued with Chi-chan and the hardship of figuring out a future path. A certain obstacle will soon be placed in her path but before that, here comes training time.

You’re not the only one lol. The only move Taichi made was to declare war on Chi-chan... so we’ll have to wait and see.

Reality, as it looks, is pretty disheartening, huh?

Taichi’s progress was all noted by Chi-chan, especially how much further his strength in memorization had taken him in the game, making him a very formidable opponent in the later half.

Boy is aiming much higher now, heh? Well, one thing is certain - he definitely had Chi-chan’s attention now. A poor shipper can only hope that he would build something substantial out of it, while Arata is not yet back in the picture permanently.

Perhaps not so surprisingly, Taichi is not the only whose spirits ran high. #everyone_wants_taichi

It’s absolutely hilarious to see these 3 fighting over who got to play Taichi and even better to see the ever gentile and soft-spoken Tsutomu-kun literally snap after an ill-advised argument from Nishida lmao.

Achievement unlocked: one snapped Tsutomu.

There’s a real sense of momentum in Tsutomu’s progress and it would certainly do him good to keep riding on that wind. As Kana-chan so shrewdly observed, going undefeated for an entire day can truly change a person’s mindset.

And Tsutomu is not the only one energized by the team and individual victories of the club. The competitive bug has taken hold of another, one who has found a guiding goal for herself and started to walk firmly towards it.

If Tsutomu’s spirited outburst was already quite unexpected for someone of a quiet disposition, Sumire certainly took the prize in being the greatest surprise of them all. She was asked by Taichi to take a turn playing against Chi-chan, who have started to get comfortable playing with her left hand. Sumire was meant to be an “easy” opponent so that Chi-chan could slowly reacquaint herself with using her right hand. While her level may have not seen a big leap but the same could not be said for her determination and resolve to do exactly what Taichi is trying to do - getting on the radar of her love interest.

That look in her eyes certainly said all. No longer directionless, she now takes tenacious steps with her eyes dead-set on the goal. Her no-nonsense attitude, previously dormant, has taken hold and redefined her character in such a way that completely captivated everyone’s attention.

“I’ll win more in the next tournament. I’m not gonna be class D forever.”

Sumire’s desire to catch Taichi’s eyes being a powerful motivator for her karuta is just in her character. What really strikes me is how enduring such motivation has turned out to be. Seeing this once-flippant and thoughtless girl putting her mind to some real serious pursuit and self-development is truly gratifying.

It feels a little strange to go back to school with these guys after a whole season of mostly tournament matches in Omi Jingu. Suddenly, school trips are a thing, even Chi-chan is hyped over it. These reminders of them having some sort of life outside of karuta will need some getting used to, lol. Unfortunately, seems like school and karuta will come head to head at some point.

Apparently, school trip is not something Chi-chan can easily skip for karuta. Even her literature teacher, after reading her love poems to karuta, took upon himself to forewarn the Empress, aka. the karuta club adviser, on how Chi-chan is a flight risk. Downtrodden by thoughts of not getting to go to the Qualifiers, Chi-chan was shaken out of her funk by Kana-chan, who has always sought to instill feminine grace in our heroine.

I do like the idea of performing small acts of good behavior to accumulate good luck. It is similar to building good karma through acts of kindness and charity, and is a very Kana-thing to believe in.

Then came this somewhat bewildering insert of a Japanese lit. period, which touched upon the age-old debate of creator vs. critic and the role of literature teachers as those who pass on “the words of the many who came before”. Like I do appreciate the insights but I’m not sure of their relevance to the story, now or later. But it did make Chi-chan’s face light up so is this some sort of placeholder for some discussion of future career pathway? *shrug* still weird.

There is finally some good news for Chi-chan: her finger has recovered well after the surgery and her right hand is back! And the Yoshino tournament is literally around the corner, so let’s go!

Team or individual...?

The arrival and clashes of karuta societies made the Yoshino tournament livelier and stand out from previously seen tournaments, where either the schools or the individuals took the center stage. Chi-chan and company were here to play for themselves and to also represent the philosophy of their respective societies.

Here comes the Nagumo society, from Fukui.

And their arch-rival.

I miss Harada-sensei!!!!

Love how the members are so gentile, except for the coach...

There are also some peeps whose schools are akin to karuta societies, me thinks.

Yay, Rion made it to class A too. That should put her in matches against Chi-chan and Taichi at some point!

Lest I forget amidst all the excitement, but this is Taichi’s first-ever tournament as a class-A player!!!

Harada-sensei welcoming Taichi to class A and being a proud papa is all the fluff I need.

Fired up by his own agenda for the Shiranami karuta society as he was, Harada-sensei never forgot to cheer on his Eyelashes-kun, the prodigal child that returned home to karuta.

Meanwhile, Chi-chan had a sweet moment or two with Arata, and then promptly got herself caught up in shenanigans, again.

blushie from Arata. Now that I think about it, when was the last time that Taichi was this blushy around Chi-chan... Though to be fair, he was too busy keeping up with her antics and too jaded by her less-than-feminine comportment to have time for blushies...

She looked so cute here, reminding me of younger Chi-chan - so pleased by praise from Arata.

But above all, they are here for the karuta.

Certainly not before meeting Arata again, right?

And here came Sudo-san, whose “s” stands for shenanigan, sadist and stalker.

... Oh come on, he provides commentary for all of Chi-chan’s matches, whenever he’s not playing himself. If that is not stalker-ish behavior, then it’s secret admirer, mwhahaha.

Taichi = Chi-chan’s tamer.

The stakes just keep getting higher, huh? DON’T TAKE IT, TAICHI!!!

Though I must say I do look forward to a rematch between Sudo-san and Chi-chan, if the mangaka karuta god wills it so. Actually, Sudo-san has yet to play against Taichi thus far, right...?

*fingers cross* my memory please come backkkk

Lmao, bit early for this pairing to be exciting, considering the last round of team tournament at Omi Jingu. But I would like to see this senpai again, for sure. His puppy love for Rion is so hopeless lol.

It sure is the thread of fate lol. Awww, I do like this President Cheers/Yoroshiku.

Poor Nishidaaaa, gambatte ne.

With Chi-chan and Taichi growing by leaps and bounds and having exciting reunions with friends and rivals, it can be easy to forget about the lower-level players like Tsutomu-kun. To think that it only took him about a year (or less?) to reach class B. That, in itself, is quite the feat and his progress deserves all the recognition and spotlight from before and here onwards. While class B proved to be more challenging than he expected, and Tsutomu-kun has a long way to go before becoming a strong player, I do hope that he will have more chances to show his resolve and be more than a supporting character.

“I should have known a class B match wouldn’t be like class C.”

Unfortunately, this is as far as he got in this tournament. I find it such a shame that we won’t get to see more of Tsutomu-kun the karuta player for now, but I understand that the narrative is building up something spectacular for the trio in Yoshino so Tsutomu-kun’s early elimination would help with the story’s focus, which has been a little all over the place in this episode.

Before moving on, some appreciation from the girl who has been walking the same path with him since the beginning.

Kanatomu has always been my comfort ship, especially whenever Taichihaya feels like the most hopeless thing ever. Kana-chan’s openly-expressed affection and care for Tsutomu-kun is truly balm for the soul.

“You said were going to win so I wanted to be there to see it.”

Both Kana-chan and Tsutomu-kun are the quiet strength that supports and holds the team together. They make for an adorable couple-to-be, with all the chemistry that any pairing could ever hope to have.

Back to the class A matches, it is with another untimely elimination that this episode ends on.

Nishida’s tenacity was amazing as always, but I wished that we could have seen more of his match against Sudo-san. At least his Nikuman roll.

Overall, this episode is a bit of a mixed bag. I do get pumped for the upcoming matches of Chi-chan and Taichi, as well as reunion match(es) with Arata but I am not so sure about two eliminations in one go. I don’t enjoy seeing support characters being used so blatantly as plot devices, especially when they barely have any screentime. Nonetheless, this speaks to Chihayafuru’s strength in character writing, in how the series really gets viewers invested in all characters, regardless of how brief their appearance or their importance to the main storyline.

Wow, I am here, at the end of my post on the 2nd episode. I still can’t believe that it took me so long to finish it. All the excuses I could have said I did, so allow me to leave you with these parting words.

Even while in the thick of GI, Chihayafuru still colored my world. There are many reasons as to why one would choose to pull for Kazuha, but for me, it was how he embodies classical Japanese poetry and aesthetics, and manifests it in every aspect of his character design and lore. I literally decided to pull for him because of his maple-themed kimono (which feels so quintessentially Japanese to me) and the name of his Elemental skill - “Chihayaburu”. It doesn’t hurt that his kit (skills) is awesome and totally kicks ass, but truly, I was sold at the moment I saw the leak with his Elemental skill’s name.

And while his “Chihayaburu” does not come from Chihaya’s favorite poem #17, it is still a reference to classical Japanese poetry - the Man’yoshu, or “Ten thousand leaves” collection. And the more you dig into Kazuha’s character, there are more references, like in the voice-overs for his Burst animation (a splendid affair of maple leaves caught in whirlwind) and his musing on maple leaves (in which he recited Ogura Hyakunin Isshu’s poem #5). In a character demo video, Kazuha is also shown to be composing a haiku, while wandering the world.

There is so so much about Kazuha that appeals to me, and it would take much longer than 2 paragraphs to say it all, but all in all, it is the Japanese poetry so richly imbued in his design and character that speaks to me. And I would not have any appreciation of that, had I not been exposed to it in Chihayafuru.

Thanks for reading thus far, lovelies! I’ll be dashing off to watch the 3rd episode now! See you, for sure.

#Chihayafuru #chihayafuru season 3 #chihayafuru anime #chihayafuru marathon #chihayafuru s3 #natsumi talks #natsumi watches #Chihaya Ayase #ayase chihaya #Taichi Mashima #Mashima Taichi #Wataya Arata #Arata Wataya #Kanade Oe #komano tsutomu #sumire hanano #Yusei Nishida #kaedehara kazuha

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