#how is the future so shitty no wonder he wanted to become famous

[kira-fluff]

obnoxious - suna rintarou x fem!reader

you were at your wit's end with your unfortunate acquaintance - a mutual friend between you and osamu - suna. he irritates you more than anyone else has, he can get under your skin quicker than others... but, as they say, there is not a distinctive line between hate and love.

a/n: felt inspired by everyone's support :) really was feeling like writing some suna stuff today! thanks for your continued support :) if you'd like me to write about a character you love, feel free to ask me! p.s. - even though ik kita would be graduated when you and atsumu, osamu and suna are third years but just pretend for the sake of the story aight ty

tw: heavily suggestive, cursing, enemies to lovers, underage drinking (party), no capitalization intentional

pt. 2

you don't even remember how you came to hate him. all that you know is the now -- the fact that he takes every opportunity to poke fun at you. only osamu probably knows the amount of photos suna has saved on his phone of you making embarrassing expressions. in that way it was ironic - he always seemed to capture the worst of you.

you'd had your fair share of acquaintances that you didn't necessarily enjoy being around, but because of a good friend, you endured their presence. suna was one of those acquaintances - bound to each other because of osamu (and atsumu, if you counted him as a friend). you wondered how someone as kind and (seemingly) a good judge of character could have a friend like suna, much less continue to make excuses for him whenever you both would exchange slights. you recalled the first time you met him: you'd felt a sharp poke in your back for the twelfth time that hour. sucking in a breath in an attempt at patience, you slowly turned around, unwittingly giving the brunette the attention he'd been veering for. "what do you want?" you seethed through gritted teeth, eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance. a sly smile made its way onto suna's face, his hazel-green eyes pooling with mischief and something else you couldn't quite recognize. you raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer, but you never received one. as your annoyance grew, he couldn't help the sharp exhale out of his nose, hardly containing his amused expression. you rolled your eyes, turning back to face the front of the classroom, thankful that your teacher's wrath wasn't another misery added on top of your already shitty day. from that day forward it seemed to be suna's goal to be as obnoxious as possible. you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head through each lecture (you honestly wondered how he retained his excelled grades what with his wayward attention). to make matters worse, it seemed osamu's one true goal in life was to properly make you and the fox-eyed man friends. you understood his complaints of your arguing - you tried not to be selfish, understanding that osamu didn't like seeing his two close friends fighting... but why did he have to choose him as a friend? suna clearly lacked maturity, he didn't seem to consider osamu's feelings at all, unlike you, and routinely would flame the fire of your adversarial friendship with his quips and insults. "so, y/n, want to come over? i want you to try some of the new dishes i made," asked osamu. it was hard to resist the offer of free food, so without question, you quickly agreed. osamu's food was the best - you constantly heckled him to become a famous chef, boasting you'd be his number one customer. it was fun to imagine the future like that. - you returned to your home - a small apartment you'd rented - because you sought individuality and freedom as you finished high school (your parents forbade you from living alone your first and second year of high school, but that was probably for the best). you knew the way to the miya twin's house by heart now, but you wanted to give him a little time to prepare, as well as yourself. after the invitation, you'd promptly made the choice to prepare something special as well - a little alcohol you'd gotten stashed away that you'd received from your older brother prior to the news of you moving out and living on your own. since atsumu would almost certainly be home as well, you thought it'd be the perfect thing to bring in order to spice an average friday night up. at last you were just about ready when you considered actually texting the twins to ask who might all be coming to this "get together". sure, 'samu has invited you and you alone over plenty of times, but he also really sucked at giving the details that mattered. - y/n: is it just me coming to this? 'tsumu: nah, kita n the rest of the guys 'll be there n a few friends like kiyoomi y/n: why all the people??? 'tsumu: it's a party?? lmao leave it to 'sumu to give ya shitty details 'samu: stfu piss head 'tsumu: oi say that to my face ya ugly ass inbred mf 'samu: we're twins, dumbass. y/n: ...is suna coming? y/n: because if he's there idk if i wanna go 'samu, 'tsumu: no y/n: k good im bring alcohol - rolling your eyes at the twin's antics, you decided that a more appropriate outfit was in order. you'd been saving a cream-colored satin bodycon dress in your closet for a night like

this. it was ruched on either side of your thighs which a window in the back. it was perfect. after all, stupid 'tsumu made a point to mention that kita would be at this party. you'd been crushing on kita since osamu introduced you when he joined the volleyball team. you were immediately taken by his kind and patient personality. even though he wasn't seen as the star of the team, you still really admired him and found yourself falling for him more and more whenever you got to see his determination on the court. - you made your way to the miya's doorstep - it wasn't like the stereotypical party that the movies boasted of - there wasn't music blasting out of speakers, in fact, it was unusually silent. opening the door, however, you were met with the view of numerous boys all gathered together on the ground, laughing - noticing atsumu's voice (per usual) was the loudest. osamu turned his head at the creaking of the front door, an expression of recognition on his face as you made your way over to the group, "took you long enough, want some onigiri?" you obliged, placing the alcohol on the table, thankful no first years were present (or honestly anyone below your grade). you looked around at the group of guys, but your eyes landed on one in particular. in your attempt to not ruin the gathering, you leaned in to whisper into osamu's ear just as he opened his mouth to speak, "you told me she wouldn't be here." "you told me he wouldn't be here." you missed the little smirk that played on both the twin's lips as they exchanged an expression and osamu answered, "you wouldn't have come. besides, alcohol. not like you'll remember much after this." you hadn't truly considered how much suna truly hated you until you saw his glare pointed scathingly deep into osamu's eyes. you know that the both of you had your differences, but...you didn't hate him hate him. he just annoyed you a little. a lot. but a mysterious twang surfaced in your chest as you stared longer into suna's expression. suddenly alcohol sounded better than anything else. the first shot was rough, almost going down your windpipe, you sputtered a bit as the bitter liquid went down your throat. after that, though, you quickly lost count of the amount of alcohol you were consuming. the more you drank, the easier the burning drink went down your throat. but you didn't care. what mattered is that the drinks were slowly burning away that sickly feeling that had taken over your chest whenever you found your eyes trailing back to suna's. occasionally, you'd even make eye contact, but thankfully the tension made both of you look away. you didn't think you could face him right now anyway. as the night went on, however, your vision began to blur. you nearly tripped over your own feet twice, so you decided it was time to plop yourself down onto the couch, snuggling into the armrest. your eyes felt heavy, but you weren't tired at all. suddenly, you felt the armrest move a little. looking up through the dim lighting (it seemed someone had turned off some of the lights), you realized that your armrest was actually a person. it was osamu. "'samu?" there was a pause before he answered, "..yes?" you grinned, thankful your guess was right as you leaned closer, failing to notice your breasts were pushed up as you leaned further into your best friend. "does suna hate me?" there was another pause before he said, "why would he hate you?" you rolled your eyes, "you know, the whole 'm gonna make your life a perpetual embarrassment' ring a bell?" this time, his answer was quick, "no" "oh, come on! i swear i've complained to you 'bout this like tons of times," you hiccuped as your speech began to slur. there was a dark chuckle as the twin replied, "you're gonna have to be more specific than that, y/n." you squinted, your lip jutting out in a slight pout. it was weird, 'sumu never said "you", he said "ya", like his brother...well, no matter. suddenly, a smirk overtook your face as you adjusted your position, your thighs on either side of his, straddling him. you leaned in close to

his neck, just barely below the shell of his ear to whisper, "stop lying." - i'm an actual idiot, suna thought. here he was, pretending to be osamu, and now you're seated on top of him, ever so comfortably. he never thought you'd do something like this. now that you were here, though, straddling him, he couldn't move. not that he wanted to... but you were drunk. and what's more, you think he hates you.. you think he's osamu. hell, he must be at least a little tipsy, too, to try and play pretend - saying he was his best friend just so that you'd talk to him. it was pathetic. still, that didn't change the fact that he was stuck here with a hard-on, you on top of him. he could feel your breath tingling on his neck, so close he could barely breathe. he was pissed at osamu for his clever omission of your name in the roster of party guests, but in a weird way, suna almost wished that you'd be there. now, he wondered if he was getting what he deserved for hurting you like that. he didn't mean to at first.. he just thought he was flirting -- trying to make it obvious that he was already so deeply in love with you. but when you'd rolled your eyes at him, he felt a twinge of irritation. from there, he'd shaped your relationship into something of a bothersome pest and an annoyed exterminator. it was pretty clear from his first conversations with atumu and osamu that your relationship wasn't going in the direction that he wanted, but he didn't know how to change it. "sometimes i can't tell if ya flirting or fighting," quipped atsumu. osamu couldn't hold back the slight chuckle rising up his throat as he, at last, turned toward suna, "rin, listen, she's kinda annoyed at ya right now. she'll come around once she knows ya care about her." it didn't seem to work, nothing did. every chance suna made to try to patch up your relationship was met with a stubborn defense on your part. so, he gave up trying, and a part of him actually started to dislike you for it. for never giving him a chance to mend your... well, whatever this was. yet here he was, completely and utterly enamored with you. it wasn't hard for him to be reeled back into by your occasional sweet moments. he'd never forgotten the time you'd showed up with atsumu and osamu to celebrate his birthday (since his parents never really seemed to care, anyway). or the time you went with osamu to his house when he was sick - he never forgot the way your cold hands felt against his hot forehead or your soft whisper, "get well, rin". it seemed that you'd both made so much progress in your relationship only for him to say one thing that would shatter the act completely. he was so completely taken by you, nonetheless. suddenly, suna was taken out of his trance-like state by your busy hands. "kita, you're really... so kind.... and strong... and your body feels so nice..." within a blink of an eye, he was kita now? his jaw feathered a bit, watching your eyes dance with mirth as you gazed at him, a soft, yet cheeky smile on your face. he let out a soft groan as your hands grazed lightly over his chest, trailing down his pecks, then his abs, and slowly to... kita is a gentleman, he would've stopped you the moment you'd straddled him...but suna didn't have that kind of restraint, though he supposed it was torture enough with you touching him like this when you think he is kita. he tried to reason with himself - you were drunk, you didn't know what you were doing, if he tried to stop you, you'd probably cry and that'd be more of a pain. "ugh -- fuck..." suna groaned as you grazed your hands over his throbbing member through his pants. he was sweating bullets just trying to control himself enough to stop you. with strained maneuvers, he lightly grabbed your wrist, his eyes hazy and his cheeks flushed as he barely made out as soft, "s-stop it..." you held back the impish grin that was pulling at your lips as you proceeded to subtly lean your hips against his. "rin..." you sighed, "i.. hate you..." he breathed a heaving sigh as you continued, "i hate. that i want you..." suna felt

something in his chest just nearly snap... you never called him rin, much less rintarou, but when you did, god it drove him crazy. but he held back. for you, he would. he just prayed this wasn't a dream, but god if it was, he hoped he'd never wake up. this wasn't the first time he'd had a dream with you in it, but usually, you both had a lot less clothes on in those ones. and you both were sober. he blinked. fuck, he was in this deep. "y/n," suna began, just barely above a whisper, "you need to sleep." you whimpered a little, holding his head in your hands, "but 'm not tired rin... jus' wanna 'ave you..." suna gritted his teeth, but put your arm gently over his shoulder, thankful that it seemed 'samu was too drunk to make it back to his room so you could rest. placing you on the floor, he moved to get up, mainly to alleviate the tension he was feeling in his pants, but you grabbed his hand sighing a shy, "stay..?" how was he supposed to say no to you? so he obliged, despite the fact that he was fairly sure that he'd sobered up and was unbelievably uncomfortable in his nether regions. yet, contrary to his current state, both of you found yourselves asleep in each other's arms, suna's muscular arm loosely hanging over your arm, spooning you. - you awoke to what might possibly be the worst headache you've ever endured, yet surprisingly a lack of urge to puke. however, there was also something poking at your ass. your eyes widened (unfortunately taking in more of the obnoxiously bright light that was shining through the windows) as you realized that the warmth you felt was the source of another human body, a muscular arm draped over yours. steeling yourself to look over your shoulder, thankful it appeared both of your clothing were still on, horror and shock took over your body. a nearly screamed, instead letting out an alarmingly small squeak. the tired eyes of suna-fucking-rintarou flitted a little, but instead moaned and leaned closer to the heat and warmth of your body, still painfully unaware of the current situation. so, you proceeded to shake him a little, whisper-shouting, "suna! why are you sleeping next to me? what happened last night? AND WHY DO YOU HAVE A BONER?!" - mwahahaha! cliff-hanger >:) wanna see a pt. 2? lemme know!

#haikyu x reader #haikyū!! #haikyuu!! #daichi fluff #daichi x reader #nishinoya x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #tsukishima x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsuro x you #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #oikawa tohru x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #futakuchi x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #ushijima x reader #terushima x reader #daishou x reader #sakusa x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #atsumu miya x reader

[fairytalesofthewind]

What are you to Rhysand?

I once again took the liberty to add a prompt to this:

29: Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force.

Requests are open!

Request: Anything Rhys x reader !

Wordcount: 1475

Warnings: mentions of rape, vulgar language?, misogyny

* Female reader

After all these months of complicated feelings you started to wonder about what exactly you are to Rhysand?

At first you were nothing but mere strangers.

Neither of you knew each other. You knew of him, but he didn’t know of you. Everyone knew of the Highlord of the Nightcourt. But only a handful of persons knew you. Only your camp truly knew you. You stood out so when he came to visit along with the General, you were one of the first to be introduced to him.

You were a bit special. That was because you were the first female Illyrian in your camp. You got a lot of shit for it, but luckily you were the War Lord’s only child, so you definitely had his favor.

You stuttered through your introduction, but so did most of the other’s so you didn’t really mind. You thought that the Highlord was probably used to people being nervous and/ or intimidated around him.

It happened really fast, it was honestly just a handshake, telling your name, bowing and leaving. You were a bit disappointed, you thought because it happened so fast that he probably wouldn’t remember you. He probably forgot your name the moment your father had told him. But you were oh so wrong.

You became someone he admired.

Neither of you were stupid to think that being the only female warrior was all happy and dainty. You had the advantage of having your father on your side, the boss of the camp. And when he was present, no one dared to go against him and his wishes. But when he wasn’t present…

You had to put up with a lot of misogyny. Not only from men, but also from the older women. Both were stuck in the old traditional way. You were constantly told to go to the kitchen and do your chores. You caught many elders eyeing your wings. You knew that they wanted to clip them. You were very happy Rhysand banned it but if it wasn’t for your father you knew it would have happened anyway.

Even through all of the shit you went through, you were still eager to show your strengths. You proved the shitty men wrong every day. It gave you the most exciting and proud thrill through body as you beat them in combat every day.

Rhysand was the one to give you the Syphons. You had deserved it, he had said. He even followed it with your name. So he did remember it! That one Syphon quickly followed with another as it broke the next day. And then another followed. And another.

Then he made you realize that with the powers you possessed, no Syphon was going to work. Kind of like his, he reminded you. Although you feel flattered, you knew you were no were near to be anything equal to him. But again, you were oh so wrong.

After that, you became his personal trainee.

He became your mentor. He claimed he saw a lot of himself in you. He wanted to teach his way of fighting and thinking. Every day, he picked you up from your cabin and brought you to The House of Wind. In the morning, you would fight together. He taught you methods that the Illyrians didn’t even know about. Then during the day, you would solve problems together.

You became his second hand.

After debating a lot, he realized that you had both similar and different views on politics. So he was set on bringing up problems from his court to see how you would solve it. And sometimes he agreed with you and did use your tactics. But you weren’t always right of course. You had no idea how it was to truly rule a court and how to deal with it problems and people.

You were his friend.

Every morning you fought. Every day you debated and did court-work. And slowly every evening you spent your time just talking. It started off with light banter and jokes. You were mostly complaining about your camp and their traditional ways. But then one night he started to talk about his experience at his camp. And then about his mother.

Suddenly you weren’t talking about –mostly- irrelevant things, but about the things that laid heavy on both of your hearts.

He talked about a woman and if she had been still alive you would have killed her. You talked about the experiences you had in your camp. Not only the misogyny, but also how certain men thought they had the right to do certain things.

You became his best friend.

You confided each other with everything. You trusted him with your life, and so did he with his.

Eventually he asked you to move in with him. And he showed you Velaris. It was known by everyone that the Highlord had a hidden city and that its name is Velaris. But no one knew where it was located. No one could actually visit it due to its many layers of magic walls.

He showed you the most popular spots. The restaurant famous for the typical plates of the Nightcourt. The theatre with the best actor of the Fae continents. The gallery with the most beautiful paintings you have ever laid your eyes upon.

But he also showed you a secret garden. Not only did the sight overwhelm you but also the scents of these beautiful flowers. And as a Fae, you could hear the flowers sing. Each one working together in a beautiful orchestra.

You spent many hours together in this garden. Only the two of you. Sometimes you would lay silently next to each other. And other time he would take his paperwork with him and you worked through them together.

You both realized that you had become more than best friends.

You became someone he loved.

Someone he loved romantically, of course, he had already loved you fiercely before. You loved him romantically too, and it was at the same time you had realized it.

Rhysand had to leave for a few days. He had to settle some negotiations in Wintercourt. He had to be there for 6 days. He was invited for not only a deal but also to celebrate one of their holydays. That holiday usually took at least 4 days. That doesn’t seem long normally, but after spending almost every moment of every day together, it seemed terribly long.

It took being apart for you to realize that you truly needed Rhysand. And for him the same. But you didn’t only miss each other platonically. You didn’t only miss the laughs, hugs and meal you shared. You wanted to be in his arms for entire evenings, just enjoying the night’s sky. You wanted to not only share hugs, but also things that were more intimate.

The night Rhysand came back, was the night on which a lot changed. He came to you alone, you were waiting for him to return in your garden. As soon as you felt him winnow nearby, you rushed near him. You ran to him and embraced him so hard that you both almost fell to the floor. The silence of that starry night was filled with a few tears of joy and mutual agreements of missing each other.

You didn’t stop embracing each other, but both of you withdrew just a bit. Watching each other faces, remembering it. As if these past few days would have changed some details. Eventually your eyes landed on his lips, and his on yours. You both moved closer again. It was as if you were drawn together by an unseen force. You both quickly realized that that unseen force, was a soulmate bond.

You became his mate.

Well, that’s a bit obvious, as there is a soulmate bond. At first in that moment you thought he perhaps wouldn’t accept you. You weren’t even a proper Illyrian anymore. You hadn’t visited the camps in months. And you were sure that those Illyrian techniques weren’t your first options.

But you were oh so wrong. In fact, Rhysand was very happy. He might as well have yelled it from the roofs of Velaris because that next day, the entire city knew. And they were happy as well. Rhysand accepted you and so did the Inner Circle and the people of Velaris. And as Rhysand put it: the rest can go fuck themselves.

It was two days after you realized that you were mates, that you consummated the bond. After that was a coronation.

You became his queen.

And maybe in the near future you would became the mother of his children…

#acotar #acowar #acofas #rhysand #rhysand x reader #acomaf #night court #soulmates #female reader #sarah j. maas #velaris #fae prompts

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 2)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge. 

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3. 

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki visits Mick to give him a very important task.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead​ @i-dont-like-rice​ @nikki-sexx​ @smokeandmirrorz​

Mick was supposed to not give a shit about Nikki. He and the stupid drummer had tormented him and his wife for months on ends, making the whole tour a living hell and he didn’t need to have even more things to worry about. So what if his bassist decided to get addicted to heroin? He was a fucking dumbass but it wasn’t his problem.  He would end up killing himself and it wasn’t like Mick could have done something, not when his whole body was torturing him.

The only problem was that he cared, deep down. He cared about the fucker and hearing the news that he was gone forever hit him.  He lost one of his friends and the band all together in a day, what would have happened? He hated to admit he was scared about the future, it was hard to imagine Motley Crue without Nikki.

He sighed, turning off yet another discussion about his death. They didn’t call him yet but something was telling him that they had to release a statement soon.  Doc was probably freaking out somewhere crying for all his millions of dollars lost.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man” A voice incredibly similar to Nikki said, making Mick jump up.

Nikki didn’t feel anything, one moment they were in the ambulance and the other they were on the beach.  He was confused for a moment before he remembered that Mick had a beach house, and stared at it for a bit. He didn’t know much about the guitarist, maybe almost nothing but he respected him so much.  He was one of the strongest dudes he had ever met.

The weirdest thing about all of this was probably how he was only able to feel certain things, no cravings or sand under his feet as he was walking, yet he would still feel guilt, fear, love, worry… it didn’t make sense but he wasn’t in the mood to question the universe’s rules.

People can’t see you until you decide to show yourself. You have to remember or otherwise they can’t hear or see you.

The voice still freaked him out, but at the same time he was grateful for it to be there… it made him feel less alone, which was great considering how he felt lonely for his entire life.

“You’re not alone Nikki, I’ll always be there with you, through highs and lows”

“God it sounds like a marriage vow, T-Bone”

“Well if I could I’d marry now…”

He shook his head, trying to get the memory out.  It wasn’t the time to be sentimental and risk fucking everything up, so he walked ( more like flew) through the front door and found Mick sitting on the couch.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man”. The bassist hoped that he was heard, otherwise it would have been pretty embarrassing.

Mick visibly jumped at hearing Nikki’s voice and quickly turned around to look at him.  From his widened eyes and confused expression, he knew he probably looked fucking transparent.

“Okay first of all why the hell are you here talking to me if you’re dead? Then why the fuck can I see myself through you ?”

The black haired man just realized that he had no idea how to explain everything and be believed, he just went along with whatever the voice in his head was saying, but now it was different. He fumbled with his hand and realized he couldn’t feel them, while he tried to come up with the best way to explain to his friend how he was a ghost and why he was there.

“I died… I have no idea how I came back but I have unfinished business and I need to talk to you!”

The guitarist looked at him up and down, clearly skeptical.  However, there wasn’t much arguing… Nikki’s ghost was literally standing in front of him.

“Okay I have no idea if this is a dream, I’m dead or in a coma, or simply I drank too much but now I’ll grab some vodka and you’ll spill your little secrets as you like”.

Nikki smiled a bit… He honestly felt normal for the first time since he was brought back.  Having Mick joking was so familiar, usually Tommy was the aim of his jokes and they all laughed because they were all so unexpected…

Tommy. Thinking about him still hurt, again he wondered if he was okay and how much he missed him… but it wasn’t his time now.  He had other things to talk about as Mick came back into the living room with his glass.

“Mick… you gotta promise me that you won’t let Motley Crue die, that you will fight to keep the band’s legacy.”

The older man looked at him surprised, rolling his eyes.

“Well that’s a bit hard when our bassist and songwriter died!”

Rage and resentment were heavy in his voice but there was more : fear and sadness. Nikki felt guilty and he fucking hated it, it was so unlike him but he couldn’t help it… Mick cared about the band as much as he did.  He always said the band was his life, before heroin came into the picture, but it was also Mick’s and he probably destroyed everything.

“You will find another one, another bassist who is also a songwriter…” The words felt so foreign coming from his mouth.  They even hurt a bit but they were necessary.

“I know you care about this band as much as I do, Mick. I know how much you’ve worked your ass off in shitty bands, trying to find the one that was going to break… I might be dead but Crue can’t have the same fate”.

Mick scoffed, taking a long sip of his vodka.

“It’s not easy, it’s not like we can find the perfect match like we did. Plus, everyone will probably hate him for replacing you!”

The frustration was almost tangible, but there was something else… Mick was scared, he knew everything was about to fade away because of Nikki’s actions, he was already looking at the boat sinking. Nikki started to panic because his band had to live, even in his death! It was pointless and selfish but that was the only thing people could remind him of.

“If you give up, then Vince and Tommy will do the same! I know that you think no one will take you, but the truth is they will. Crue is what it is because of our vision, you are part of it and I’m asking you to keep it going. Think of this as my dying man’s wish… even if I’m already dead”

The older man’s grip on his glass got tighter, his eyes lost in thought as he was pondering Nikki’s words. It was hard to take in, hell that was an understatement, it was fucking insane and probably wouldn’t work but the bassist needed to have this false hope.

“It’s so fucking weird, you know? To realize you’re fucking dead yet here talking to me.”

He was deflecting, Nikki knew it, but didn’t want to push it too far. He learned to know Mick, he kept his promises and he was a hard worker and with a good dose of luck and jokes, you got him to your side.

“Yeah, do you remember how I said you weren’t going to make it in that interview? Well, karma hits like a bitch!”

“Mick might not make it , he drinks a little too much and it looks rough” Mick quoted, trying to imitate Nikki’s voice.

“Yeah and then you said something like I heard what you said and you’re dead, fuck I guess you were right” He laughed but Mick didn’t.

Oh c’mon so what if he was joking about his death? It’s not like anyone really cared about him.  They just saw him as a burden, which he was. Not his mom, nor his band or his Tommy would have really missed him… they would eventually move on.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He said annoyed but his lips formed a small smile.

“I know, I know. Mick… please promise me that. If Crue is going to end, then my whole life didn’t mean anything! Ple…” He stopped himself, he was so fucking close to begging but he couldn’t. Nikki Sixx didn’t fucking beg, not in life or death.

“I’m thinking about it!”

He really meant the first part. He spent all his teenage and adult years creating the band of his dreams and making sure they conquered the world.  This band was his escape; his attempt at redemption after his shitty childhood. Nobody loved Frank Feranna but he didn’t care, he would become Nikki Sixx and be super fucking famous!

He didn’t need anyone’s love, except that he did.

“ I love you, Nikki.”

“ No you don’t, nobody does, T-Bone”

“Well I fucking do. You gotta pass on my dead body before you’ll hear me not saying it over and over”

His heart might have stopped, but he still felt the big wave of nostalgia hitting him. He couldn’t do it, he would have never been ready to see him again.

“Okay, I will. But listen to me, it won’t be easy and I’m an old man with a fucked up back, so don’t send demons against me if I fail!” The little spark of determination in his eyes relaxed Nikki, he was on board.

“I fucking knew you were the best, Mars! If I wasn’t dead I’d probably tattoo your face on me as a thank you!”

“Oh gross, never say that again!” He pretended to be disgusted but his eyes betrayed him, the small softness in them told Nikki he felt touched.

“Who knows, maybe in hell they have tattoos for the ghosts. God we used to hate each other and now we are two peas in a pod.”

“I still hate you.”

“Ugh, you crushed my heart Mick”

The guitarist flipped him off, rolling his eyes. Nikki desperately wanted to keep talking, if he did then he could have pretended nothing changed, right? He didn’t have to face Vince and Tommy and go through the light… everything would have stayed the same or he could fool himself that it would.

I think it’s time to go to the next person.

The voice was demanding yet still calm. Nikki knew that he couldn’t stay forever, they had to prevent spirits from just lingering into the real world like that, it made him a bit angry but he understood it. It wasn’t like he could have done much anyway…He was just a shell of what he used to be.

“I gotta go Mick…” He wanted to punch himself because he sounded so fucking pathetic, but the other man gave him a compassionate smile.

What he fuck are you, a little small puppy? Oh look Frankie is scared to leave his illusion of a family.

Mick walked him to the other without saying anything, but before turning the handle, which was pointless because Nikki could have just passed through the door, he broke the silence.

“Try to give us some signs, okay? Show us that you’re there… but don’t you fucking dare spill my vodka or I’ll make you two times dead!”

“Oh that’s exactly what I’ll do, thanks for the suggestion!”

He stepped outside and looked at Mick one last time.

“You promised, alien. You gotta do it!”

“Yeah yeah, you better repay me when I come to join you there…” And with one last look, Mick closed the door.

Nikki felt all of the weight crushing down on his body, even if it was made of air. He simply stood still, his mind racing like a freight train, trying to take everything in but also getting ready for his next move… being overwhelmed was an understatement, he felt peeled down like an orange and this was only the beginning. He felt like a fucking coward but he just wanted to get over it, was it that bad to accept his fate and disappear without facing anyone?

You are going to abandon him again? You know why you need to talk to Vince, and you know this will be your last chance to see him, asshole!

He went to kick the sand, but he couldn’t touch it. God, how frustrating was that!

So where are we going next?

Nikki would have wanted to scream at him, give him the middle finger and just run away but it wouldn’t have been helpful, would it? So he forced himself to be as neutral as possible.

“Vince Neil. Take me to his house.”

#nikki sixx #Tommy Lee #mick mard #vince neil #motley crue #motley crue fanfiction #80sRock #80s rock band #fanfiction #my writing #tommy lee x nikki sixx

[meichenxi]

*rant commencing*

ok guys let’s sit down and have a think about the way we talk to kids, particularly neurodivergent ones, and the weight it carries

the other day, I opened up to a friend about something really hurtful my best (and only) friend said to me when I was fifteen. It was a moment of emotional intimacy and the first time I had brought it up seven years later and, once again, I got laughed at and told I was too fucking sensitive

and ok maybe yeah I was a ridiculous child. I’m a ridiculous adult, that shouldn’t be surprising. But this hurt and hurt and hurt and I was trying to think about why this in particular and not anything else was so painful

so here’s the situation. at fifteen, like many smart kids, everyone thought the world was open to me. Ok I had no social skills to speak of and was ostracised by teachers and students and family, but I was an optimistic kid, and in a disaster of a home situation (involving kidnappings and court cases and running away and being out of school for a year and a brother starting drugs at 12 and living in a shelter and basically just a LOT) I was always the smiley helpful one. and apart from being defeated by very simple mechanisms like idk drawers or biscuit packets, I picked things up quickly. I took GCSEs early and extra and tutored others; I was a regional competitive swimmer in breaststroke and open water; I taught myself the flute and got into an international touring youth orchestra without lessons; I won a poetry competition for adults in primary school; I played competitive netball and was a long distance runner; I drew and sold my art; I wrote shitty novels and started making conlangs and was interviewed on bbc world about it; I loved performing and was invited to join a theatre company when I left school; and my biggest passion in the entire world apart from Tolkien was martial arts. And the best thing was for my parents - one of whom was disabled and didn’t work and the other who was a cleaner - is that I worked two paper rounds and tutored younger children and earned all of the money for it myself. blah blah blah. I was your mum’s friend’s kid. 

well, I’m a disaster adult, so you can probably guess that none of that lasted for very long. and there are gazillions of people here with exactly the same story. 

the point in question, though, was when I was fifteen and thinking about sixth form (the last two years of school in the UK) it was becoming clear alarmingly fast that you weren’t allowed to just keep doing everything you loved. at some point you had to make a choice. 

but how could I give up swimming for music? Or music for languages? Or languages for athletics? Or athletics for theatre? or, actually, all of them but one???? how did people just know what they had to do with their lives? how did they choose? 

the problem was, I said to my friend, I know I could do well at any of them, so how was I supposed to choose? (tactless and a stupid thing to say and also just not true but I was fifteen and simultaneously disgustingly cocky and cripplingly insecure) And he laughed and said, well, fuck you then. 

oh noooo. poor meeeeeee. I’m so fucking good at things what do I dooooo

I haven’t stopped thinking about that comment for seven years. Every single time I think about wasting my potential, every time I can’t sleep because I’m terrified that I’m not being productive or useful and hating myself because I’m upset that I can’t do something right away and I know it’s a stupid thing to be upset about - I think about that comment. I’m lucky. It’s alright for some. 

because, actually, being expected to know what to do with your life aged 15 is a fucking terrifying thing. we were kids at fifteen being told to make decisions as if we had all the facts, as if we weren’t also being blindfolded and spun around in circles until we couldn’t stand. Do you do what your parents say? what you think you want to do? what your teachers say? do you just stay in education even though it’s not for you because your dream is stupid, or because you don’t have a dream like everyone else seems to? are you supposed to have a dream?

*it’s NOT a stupid thing to worry about*

particularly when? well, when your entire self worth equates to the things that you output, the things that you do. so just for a moment, put yourself in the shoes of all of these wonderful, dazzling, damaged, crazy kids with big dreams and big hearts, kids that are struggling right now and kids that are our future, and imagine that you’ve been told since you were old enough to read or speak or walk that you’re just so very clever

isn’t it just wonderful how clever you are? isn’t it just great how we never need to worry about you? you’re such an easy child, it’s a blessing. always so considerate, so thoughtful, never making a fuss! isn’t it just fantastic how well you do in school? I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a child who went to all of those nasty parties. you’re so dedicated

raise your hand if you were only ever told you were good. raise your hand if you were never told you were kind. 

so, what happens? you take a child, and you tell them for its entire childhood that they’re clever. You don’t tell them that they’re creative, or hard-working, or dedicated, or driven, or helpful. You let them know that it’s ok that they’re weird, because they’re going to be successful. what do you think parents say to their kid who’s crying because she has no friends and she doesn’t understand what the other children are thinking and why they would hurt each other like that? even good parents, the very best of them, say things like: you’re just more mature than they are. it doesn’t matter. keep your head down - you’ll show them. 

your child, in the best case scenario, has access to her hyperfixation that makes the world big and bright and beautiful. she’s a bit weird, but it’s kind of cute. anyway, she’s good at it. and as long as she succeeds, conventionally, and you get to brag, then it’s ok that she’s a little bit unconventional.

and then things to break, just a little. and then, aged eleven, your child is having an asthma attack in the classroom because she got so anxious she couldn’t answer a maths question she couldn’t breathe. it’s ok, her parents tell her the next day. you’re just not good at maths - that’s alright. you don’t have to be good at everything

your child, because she’s perceptive, begins to realise that things don’t get better as you get older. people are just as cruel at 12 as they are at 7, and they’ll be just as cruel at 15. and then one day, as a bad joke because she doesn’t really understand humour, she writes a fake text to her dad from someone’s phone in legalese that actually has a secret code hidden it in that she knows her dad will crack right away because he’s brilliant. she thinks it’s hilarious. her father thinks he is being threatened, and spends the next week in meltdown, bedridden and burnt-out. and when she owns up, he turns and snaps at her, and says as if you could write something like that. an ADULT wrote this, not a fucking child

and suddenly, that cleverness they kept talking about? they don’t even understand that. 

suddenly, no one sees her at all. 

she needs to learn to be like the other kids. to be like a fucking child. and while she’s learning, she doesn’t speak for a year

that happened to me, but take your pick - I’m sure you don’t have to look far to find examples of your own. 

My point is this: if you tell a child for their entire life that the only thing that is worthy of being loved is what they achieve, if every time they do something they love you tell them oh, you could be a famous writer! you’re so talented! rather than saying that you loved listening to their story, if you only praise them when they’re good and quiet and convenient and tell them that as long as they succeed, it doesn’t matter if they don’t have friends or if they’re miserable, and THEN you tell them to choose ONE THING and drop 90% of everything that makes them who they are - 

what the hell did you THINK was going to happen??

because here’s the first thing. for many kids, whether that’s because of neurodivergence or age maturity or whatever, hyper fixations and hobbies aren’t just things they like to do. THEY ARE LIFELINES. they’re the things these kids go to when they’re hurt, angry, upset, because they make sense. for many kids, especially but not always girls, they are able to camouflage themselves and mask tendencies of neurodivergence because they’re ‘good students’. at a family gathering once, my mum, so frustrated at my inability and lack of desire to talk to any members of my extended family, snatched my German grammar book and locked it in the boot of the car. knowing that I escape and read it in the toilet was the only thing keeping me going, exhausted and stressed and overwhelmed. I vomited on the grass.

and here’s the second thing. you tell us from an early age that they only way we’ll ever be acceptable to the rest of society is if we succeed. autistic kids are fine, as long as they’re international maths olympiad champions. adhd kids are fine, as long as they’re famous athletes. if you’re obsessed with musicals that’s ok, as long as that obsession leads to a well-paying job as a successful writer on Broadway. 

and then you tell us that we only have one chance at that success? and this decision determines the rest of our lives? and that we had so much potential when we were kids, and we better not waste it now? that not everyone is so lucky to be able to choose between so many things?? 

because being asked to choose between these things isn’t being asked to choose a hobby. when the only way anyone else defines you positively is by your success in one area, that becomes your entire identity. 

so no, we’re not being too sensitive when you ask us to pick and choose what career, or what hobby to take forward. you’re not asking about hobbies. you’re asking us to choose what kind of person we want to be. you’re asking us to choose the most impactful way we can give back to the world, because we can’t waste those god-given talents. you’re asking us to figure out, still a child and hopelessly lost, what our purpose on this planet is. and you’re looking at us as if the ways that we survived all of these years, the things we clung to for comfort, are things we can just cast aside without further thought

ask me now, and I’ll tell you that’s not the way things work. we have second chances and third ones and tenth ones, we can be different things to different people and we can do different things at different parts in our lives, and be successful in different areas. life isn’t a fucking flowchart. and I’m still trying to come to terms with all the things I could have been, and my freak-outs about ‘wasted potential’ are so clockwork I could plan my calendar around them, but I’m beginning to understand that life doesn’t end when you’re twenty, or when you haven’t written a best-seller by eighteen. you have time.   

but at fifteen? at fifteen, that question broke me. 

do you know what you can do instead? you can show a little thoughtfulness. you can be kinder, and lead by example, and praise your kids when they’re kind too. when your son runs to you and shows you what you think is a better picture than you - a stick figure artisan, if you say so yourself - could ever create, you can actually just say you really like it. you can ask him if that’s him and daddy and the dog on a cloud. describe the picture back to him, and engage with this thing he’s made from his imagination - tell him the clouds he’s drawn are so big and fluffy and white, and ask if there are giant spiders living there. you know how to shut a child up? tell them yes dear, it’s wonderful. don’t be that person. promote your kid’s creativity - ask questions, have fun, play with this thing they’ve made - and not destroy it

when your daughter comes to you and shows you a song she’s written, don’t tell her she’s so talented or that she could be a musician one day. just sing along. ask her why she wrote it, and what she was thinking of when she did. ask her if she could make it different for two people singing it at the same time. 

and if your child just really, really loves maths? let them do maths. it’s ok if their interests are stereotypical - as long as they love it and it’s fun, supporting them is wonderful. the best present my father ever got me was five hours of tutoring - an introduction to linguistics!! - when I turned twelve, starting on my birthday at 8am. I had never felt so understood and so loved. 

as much as these simple things can destroy someone’s life, can stop them talking for a year, you have the chance to be that one voice of kindness that is a friend where a young person needs it most. 

for me, this was the Bus Lady. I never knew her first name because I forgot immediately and was too embarrassed to ask again, but we got the bus together for two years right before I applied to university - she was a trainee teacher at my school. she saw that I missed tutor group and sat in the corridor every morning writing, and that I ran laps for an hour every lunchtime instead of sitting alone. but she came and sat with me one morning and asked what I was doing; I was developing a new shorthand and told her so warily. 

she didn’t raise her eyebrows or say wow, that’s...that’s amazing. instead she frowned and looked at me skeptically and said ‘But why would you do that? There are plenty of functional shorthands out there - what does your shorthand have that they don’t? Tell me about it.’

I had no idea what to say

this was the first time anyone had actually ENGAGED in any capacity with what I was doing. and just like that, just by treating me seriously and asking valid questions and pointing out inconsistencies, I was a person who happened to have an idea that was in some serious need of questioning, and not a freak

there’s no way she remembers that interaction; she’s been a teacher now for year and probably doesn’t even remember who I am. But I had been this close to not going to university, to not bothering, and she made me stop, and wait a moment

she will never know the difference that that conversation and two months of kindness on the bus from a stranger made in my life. 

so let’s be kind to each other, please. let’s be forgiving. let’s challenge each other and let’s engage with kids with special interests and listen to them talk. and so to any educators or teachers or parents or even other kids, I want to say - let’s treat our words seriously and with respect, like we treat our children, because they have immense capacity to hurt, because they can be used for good. 

to any other fifteen year olds in a similar position, I just want to say: none of us here on tumblr have properly sorted our lives out, but I promise you it does get so much better.

you’re not too sensitive. you’re not a freak. you’re not only acceptable because you succeed. I know if you’re masking you feel you have to and it’s for survival, and I’m sorry, because you shouldn’t have to. and you should never, never have to think that you ‘have it good’ or that you’re lucky and are not allowed to hurt. there’s always some one who has it worse, and you can’t stop beat yourself up about that. fuck anyone who tells you otherwise. if you have gone through trauma, if you have unhealthy coping mechanisms, if you are depressed or anxious or otherwise mentally ill and some of it stems from this, I am so very very sorry. but you will be ok, even if you can’t write for a couple of years, or even if things change. you’ll get there. speaking as someone who is now writing for the first time in six years, drawing for the first time in longer, it’s scary and new and weird, but you will come out the other side. 

and you do work hard. and you are creative. and you are loved. and you are so very, very kind.

*rant over*

#neurodivergence #neurodivergent #adhd #autism #giftedness #gifted kids #tag for this fucking awful school system? #neurodivergent kids #parenting #education #long post #meichenxi rants #mental health #trauma #depression #anxiety #mental illness #sorry for the scary tags I don't mean the post to be scary I'm just annoyed #and it got longer than I thought it would

[lisinfleur]

In your arms

The request:

Author’s Notes | Fuck the whole universe. I can't see that shitty ending for our pup and not doing anything about this. So, here is the first of the many things I'll write to correct what made us bleed in this last season of our beloved show! Hope you guys like it! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader Info | Viking age AU, fixing plot AU, requested by anon. Words | 2941 ⁑ Warnings: Spoilers ahead. Mention to major character’s death, some angst.

"No brother! You've done your work! Do not interfere anymore. All my life has been a preparation for this moment. Stay back."

The sound of Ivar's voice and their last conversation for a long time populated his mind.

The many times they'd tried to reach for each other's ends and failed miserably made sense all at once in a single sentence.

"I could never kill you..."

What was left untold for their whole life, finally spoken.

"I love you. Now go. Go!"

Screams of strength and bravery overcame Ivar's final words of fear in Hvitserk's mind.

"Are we afraid of the death? No!"

For days he laid among the Christians after burying his brother like a true Viking lord, ensuring whoever was to find his grave would know what his brother wanted...

"Here is the grave of the most famous Viking that ever lived!"

The last promise he made before his little brother's eyes were lost from his to go into the golden doors he wasn't able to see, but was sure were open for Ivar to enter, engraved in his mind as if they were marked by fire.

"No one will ever forget Ivar, the Boneless."

He had to do it. He had to push forward his brother's legacy and what better way than doing what Ivar intended when they came back to stand on those cursed lands once again? Those poisonous lands that took his father, two of his little brothers, and the memory of the older one from who he separated in that place. That terrible place.

He would burn that place to ashes! And then he would spread those ashes over Ivar's grave like a gift to his brother's memory.

And so... He would come home. To fulfill one last promise also marked on fire in his mind and his heart.

"I'll come back, Y/N. I'll come back to you."

He had just found you after the many years of tragedy in his life. So, you became his secret in Kattegat. A secret he didn't tell not even to his beloved little brother, afraid somehow Ivar's hands could reach and rip his heart from his chest one more time.

You served his tables when he was younger and became a free woman since no one was caring about the fleeing slaves in the middle of that whole war he and his brothers fought with each other. But you'd never forgotten him and when he came back with his brother under the angry words of the town, you came after him, spoke of long-gone times and memories. And you offered your services for him who was once a good master in exchange for his mercy since now you were lost and helpless in the middle of the confusion Kattegat had become with so many rulers in so little time.

It didn't take too long for him to see you were a gift the gods had blessed him with. In a matter of days, his heart was bent.

To fall in love with you was easy. To leave you at the cabin when the time to leave had come was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

You cried in his chest and he could still remember how hard it was to hold your tears. He knew it could be his last battle... You knew he could never come back from that trip. But they had to do it.

You couldn't argue with his fate.

You couldn't beg him to stay.

So, you made him promise he would come back to you and swore you would wait for him. To warrant his promise was real, he left his recently recovered arm ring in your hands.

His fingers touched the pendant on his chest. Another hacksilver, placed alongside the one he had earned from his father on his necklace. You had given that pendant to him saying you wanted it back and so, he would have to come back to give it back to you.

Sometimes Hvitserk would wonder what was in your mind now. He knew the news of Ivar's defeat and Harald's death had reached Kattegat at that point. Would they say he was dead as well? Did they know he was a prisoner for so long?

Would you be there, waiting for him yet?

Promises were promises. Things were close to an end.

Hvitserk stopped a moment to admire his little brother's mind and toughness once again: it was hard as fuck to play games with the Christians and mislead them was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Hvitserk was a berserker. The mindless battle was his favorite game and those mental games were Ivar's specialty.

Maybe it was why he decided to do it that way.

Ivar's way.

It was his brother's legacy after all.

For months he had played the Christian. He accepted that stupid baptism and walked with a cross around his neck. He spoke meekly and accepted that stupid name they gave him as if it could erase everything he was and would ever be.

From behind, his crows were cawing at the Dane kings' ears at the settlement beside Wessex, remembering them he himself was also a son of Ragnar, fated to Valhalla, who, unlike Ubbe, wanted those lands entirely to their people as a fair payment for the lives those Christians had stolen from them.

Ragnar Loðbrók.

Harald Finehair.

Ivar, the Boneless.

The whole unavenged settlement prince Aethelwulf had destroyed years ago in time...

Their blood was considered a fair price for his people to rise. The position of third Dane king, abandoned by his older brother, was a vacancy Hvitserk was considered fitting to occupy.

Under the mantle of lies and with the night by his side, Hvitserk dressed his armor once again and headed up to the doors of the Royal Villa to open them to his people like once his brother Ubbe had opened the gates of York for them to enter.

Standing in the middle of the gates as the army of Vikings invaded the town, Hvitserk could almost hear his brother's voice screaming and the sound of that unmistakable chariot filling the air as if Ivar was riding with them into the Royal Villa, conquering what he wasn't able to see falling in front of his eyes.

Alfred fled with Elsewith and their child. Hvitserk spared their lives as they had spared his own. What's fair is fair and Ivar would forgive him for denying the royal blood to his vengeance, but Alfred had respected his brother's death, his grave wasn't touched and his life was preserved.

But the town was on fire, invaded and taken as Ivar once planned.

With the dawn, Hvitserk received a mark on his face to resemble his crown as the third Dane King his brother didn't want to be. But he knew he wouldn't stay as much as Ubbe didn't stay.

He was wounded and tired, but Ivar was avenged and it was time to fulfill his next promise.

"I ordered them to build a shrine for you, brother. They must start soon and the Danes ensured me they'll use the stones from the royal castle to build it around your grave," Hvitserk said, touching the stones of the simple tomb he had rose with his own hands. "They'll paint runes and make sacrifices. And this place shall be marked with your story, my brother. No one will ever forget who you were and, in the future, when they find this place, everyone will know here is the grave of the great Ivar, the Boneless, son of Ragnar Loðbrók, feared by many around the world and for whom this land fell into our hands."

His fingers caressed the stone as if he could touch Ivar's face once again.

"But now I think you know I have to go... And leave you behind, brother. For you'll be always alive in my heart, but she's waiting for me. I know I never told you anything about her... I had my reasons, you know them very well," he sighed. "I did it all for you, Ivar. And if she ever gives me a son, I'll name him after you, so he can keep telling your story throughout the years. I'll never forget you, brother. Hail and farewell, Ivar. We'll see each other again when the time comes..."

Leaving behind the first hacksilver of his necklace as a gift to his brother, Hvitserk left, mounting his horse and riding towards the docks where a Dane boat was already waiting for him, ready to take him home.

For a moment, Hvitserk placed his eyes on that land once again. Maybe it was the last time he would ever see that cursed place. Maybe one day he would come back to see Sigurd and Ivar and his father as well. Or maybe, like Ivar, he would come and die there alongside the ones he loved. The time would say. Fate would say.

He was finally coming home.

The boat took ages to make a trip he didn't remember was that long. Ingrid was the new queen and he could see the awe in her eyes when he jumped out of that boat, holding himself whole in spite of his tiredness.

"We thought you were..."

"Dead, like my brother. And your husband, I suppose," Hvitserk didn't care about cutting the queen's sentence. "Release your breath, woman. I have my own crown and have no interest in the one on your head. You're Harald's wife and he was Norway's king. This is now your problem, but still, my homelands so get used to having me walking around from time to time," he said, carelessly pointing down to the ground. "Now you excuse me, your highness... I have more important matters to treat. Spare me from feasts in your hall: The son of Ragnar may be back home, but I'm tired, exhausted... All I want is to find my woman and rest in her arms."

"Your what?"

But he left Ingrid and her whole surprise behind, walking away from the boat as the Danes were preparing to move with their trip. They wouldn't stay. He wouldn't come back, at least, for now.

If he ever had to die in those cursed lands, he would do it like his father: before growing too old.

After living his whole life.

His steps were still limping and for a moment, he giggled, remembering how Ivar had limped that whole pier under horrible words where now there were smiles and grateful faces blessing his return. Would they bless if Ivar was back as well?

Oh, they would. But his brother wanted more than just their blessings.

And he wanted more than just their words.

Hvitserk straightened his cloak. His limping steps walking through the streets with many memories, sometimes sad memories, sometimes sweet ones. And as his steps shortened the distance towards his cabin, the sweetest memories came, remembering him of his sneaky movements through those streets to find you without his little brother's eyes over him. The kisses you'd exchanged. Your hands against his skin.

His heart pounded when his eyes finally reached that door. It was still the same... The cabin was still exactly as his memories could build it in his mind. But it was silent and it, for a moment, stopped everything into Hvitserk's heart.

Could it be that the news of his death had sent you away for good?

Did he take too long to come back? Did someone tell you he was turned into a Christian and you believed it was for real?

His fingers touched the door and he hesitated before knocking on it.

What if you weren't there to answer?

What if there was another with you in his place now?

It was easier to burn down the Christians' village than it was to knock on his own house's door, but the sound of footsteps inside approaching the door turned Hvitserk's mind completely blank for a second.

The lock was opened and his eyes watched as the light from outside invaded the darkened cabin, covering your figure and showing the pale tones of your apron dress.

"Now it's not a good time, I'm..."

Your voice died into your throat. And your eyes met his in a long moment of silence where the whole world seemed to be stopped along with time itself.

Hvitserk could watch as the line of your eyes filled slowly with tears. He observed as the tears became thicker and broke the line, rolling down your face. Your beautiful face... He thought so many times he would never see you again.

You sobbed, losing the strength of your legs. And Hvitserk held you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his chest once again.

It wasn't one more of his dreams. You were there.

He was home.

His scent invaded your nose and your sobs engulfed you whole as you nestled into his arms, holding him so tight that your knuckles became white against his clothes.

"Shh... Hush, my sweet love. I'm here now. I'm here with you," he mumbled as your sobs became louder.

You thought he was dead.

They told you he was dead.

You cried your soul out on that pier, begging the gods to drag your body into the waters and allow you to swim towards him into Valhalla as queen Gunnhild had done after her beloved Björn.

But instead, they held you back.

And as Hvitserk's hands cupped your face before he could seal his lips against yours, tasting your flavors he missed so bad once again, you understood why the gods had given you a reason to keep yourself alive.

It was for him. You were his gift.

And the gods had decided to bless him once more.

"I brought it back to you, my love," he said, giving your pendant back with his necklace. "The other... I left with him," he mumbled.

Eyes full of sadness for his brother you knew wouldn't come back with him.

You gave back his arm ring, caressing his hand as he smiled.

"I thought I would never see you again," he mumbled.

His warm and big hand caressing your face, drying the tears from it before you could finally speak between the sobs.

"They told us you were dead, my sweet prince. I mourned alone and wanted to follow you into Valhalla to serve your feast. But the gods forbade me. They took my freedom for it wasn't my choice anymore."

Hvitserk looked at you curious, not understanding your words until you brought him into the cabin enough for his eyes to land on the basket over his bed.

"They filled me with life and entrusted me with your legacy. I couldn't go. They made me stay. And now I understand that's because you're here, my love. You're back to me."

There weren't words in his mouth anymore.

Hvitserk's steps limped towards the bed and he sat, looking at that basket with surprise and admiration. Inside, a pair of icy blues was facing him, remembering him of so much in his life inside those little eyes.

Ragnar's eyes.

Ubbe's eyes.

Ivar's eyes...

All looking at him into the little one's orbs as his son was trying to eat his own hand, hungry like himself.

"His name is Herleifr, son of Hvitserk. For he's indeed the son of a warrior and I wanted him to know where he came from..." you mumbled as Hvitserk gently lifted the little one from the basket, holding the baby against his chest.

This time it was his eye line unable to hold back his tears as his fingers gently touched the little one's hands and face.

He had seen so much death...

He had lost so much on that trip...

His hands had buried his own little brother and burned that town to the ground, but now, they were holding his future.

Hvitserk giggled.

"Herleifr... My brother shall forgive me once again. I must have to produce another so I can name it after him as I promised," he said, making you smile at his teary face.

You came closer, caressing his cheeks, drying his tears.

"We shall take care of you, my precious prince. And so, when you're healed, we shall produce as many heirs you think you want to honor all the ones you lost and more," you smiled, feeling his hand touching your face, pulling you closer so he could kiss you that way you loved so bad.

The baby cooed in his hand when your lips separated from each other and Hvitserk smiled.

"Now I'm home... Now... I'm back where I belong," he said, touching his forehead to yours, caressing your face with his thumb. "In your arms, my love. I belong in your arms and this is my place in this world."

For a second, Hvitserk could feel Ivar's eyes over him. And he smiled remembering he could be there to watch for him.

"Valhalla will wait," he said, almost being able to hear his little brother's giggle as he caressed your face, smiling at you. "I have a whole dynasty to produce with you first."

His time to find his beloved ones at Valhalla would come, he knew that. But until there, he would enjoy his place in Miðgarð and produce as many heirs as you were up to bear for him.

His time to fight was over for now and now it was time for him to be happy. And he would, by your side.

By your side, he would.

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#history vikings #imagine vikings #hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitty #hvitserk’s heathen feast #sister wives #shot #If I already started fixing the mistakes? #SURE THING

[maeru1356]

KiriBaku: Deaf.

Deaf. This word that didn't make me neither hot nor cold before had now taken on a whole new meaning for me.

I was seated in front of the doctor who was talking to me. And yet, I wasn't listening to him, his voice was lost as I sank into my thoughts.

He had just revealed to me the thing that I dreaded the most and that I had nevertheless suspected on several occasions.

My Quirk is causing me hearing loss.

Certainly this loss isn't too bad yet, but in a few years I may not be able to hear anything at all.

To avoid this, I should now wear hearing aids, have my costume changed so that the sound of my explosions doesn't pierce my eardrums anymore, and maybe even consider learning sign language.

Back home, I explained everything to my parents. They got speechless, they surely didn't expect their 16 years old son to tell them that there was a possibility that he would become totally deaf in the future.

They promised to do everything to avoid the thing or at least, to delay it as much as possible.

Some time later, I started to wear the famous hearing aids and to take sign language lessons with my family.

But the hardest part will be to talk to Kiri about it, because yes I hadn't said anything to him yet. We may have been in a relationship for a year now, I really apprehend his reaction.

So I texted him to tell him that I would drop by the next day to talk to him about something important.

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

On the way to shitty hair's house, I wondered how I could possibly announce it to him. I had thought about it all night and yet I still didn't know it.

Arrived at destination, I rang and my boyfriend came to open the door to me and invited me to come in.

Once in his room, we sat on the bed and I started telling him everything. From the moment I started having suspicion going through the visit to the doctor as well as the sign language lessons until that very moment.

At the end of my story, apprehending his reaction, I looked down, waiting for any response from him but he didn't say anything.

The only thing he did was hug me. I didn't move.

- I can only imagine how hard it must be for you right now, but I want you to know that I'm here. I want you to know that I love you and that it never will change anything between us.

Choking back my tears, I thanked him and hugged him back thightly

Time skip: 6 months.

In the last six months, a lot has happened. My hearing continues to deteriorate little by little, but hearing aids do slow down the thing. The rest of my friends and the class heard the news as well. They have all shown me a lot of support for this.

As for Kiri and I, our relationship is stronger than before. He also decided to take me somewhere today. I don't know our destination, he wants to keep the surprise until the end. Although I suspect it's a surprise for my birthday.

When we got there, he guided me to a room. This room was plunged into darkness. Suddenly he let go of my hand and I find myself like an idiot standing there calling him.

Suddenly the light came and in front of me stood the Bakusquad with in front, shitty hair holding a cake with candles.

Behind, I saw my friends trying to sign the sentence "happy birthday" smiling at me.

I was speechless to see that they had made the effort to learn some semblance of sign language for me.

Kiri put the cake on a table and started signing too.

- Happy birthday Katsuki, I love you.

My answer wasn't long in coming. It doesn't matter whether the others are there or not. I took him in my arms and put my lips on his wanting to make him feel through this kiss all my gratitude and the love that I felt for him.

Unfortunately the fact that we aren't alone prevented us from prolonging this moment so when we parted, the others looked at each other and with a common scream said.

- Let the party begin !!

End.

#kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kirishima #kiribaku #bakugou x kirishima #krbk #bakugou #bakukiri #bakushima #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #fanfic #writing

[fritae]

The Missing Piece : Chapter 1

Gang leader! AU / Corporate! AU

Characters: Dabi x F/OC

Status: Ongoing

Summary:

Rina Aoki is the secretary of one of the world's biggest broadcasting stations - only she hates her job and wakes up everyday asking herself if this is all there is to life. Then, she meets Dabi: a man of overpowering confidence and many, many secrets. But beneath all that confidence is a wounded soul and years' worth of repressed anger. The two struggle with fear, ambition, vulnerability - but eventually learn that life may just be better when you don't have to struggle alone.

A/N:

There are no quirks in this story. I tried to give it a real world spin. But it will explore dynamics between good and evil, right and wrong, and feelings of family, friendship, love and belonging. I'm super excited about the story and I hope you enjoy it!Chapter 1: the meeting

Chapter One: The Meeting

It was raining.

I hide my tote under my coat out of fear for my laptop. If it gets wet, I'm done for. My boss isn't exactly the most considerate person out there. If anything were to happen to the highly coveted files on it, I might as well hand in my resignation.

I sigh with relief once the bus arrives, and quickly hurry inside.

As I find a seat, I lean my head against the window, not caring for germs or the subtle tremble of the glass. It feels cool against my skin, and not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. But more importantly, it is distracting. It'll give me something else to focus on during the ride.

At least I hoped so.

But within minutes, it becomes clear that my mind has no intention of being distracted. The thoughts creep in and suddenly the soft hum of the engine is no match against the throbbing in my head.

Of course not.

Distractions simply don't last long these days.

So I surrender to the thoughts as I stare at the passing streets, feeling increasingly empty by the minute.

I hate my job. I hate everything about it. Working as a secretary for a broadcasting company is a dream for many. The salary isn't bad. I have access to exclusive events and frequently coordinate with the biggest names in the industry. I know the ins and outs of selling an idea and making it resonate with millions.

But I quickly learned all the people in this industry are insufferable. The whole premise rests upon the art of manipulation, taking something that may very well be worthless and conning people into thinking it will fill a hole they didn't even know they had. The people are superficial, be it actors or other famous personalities. Everyone is so obsessed with images. How to best put on a show to gain the love and admiration of millions.

But what use is their love if it's built upon the distortion of reality?

I shake my head before burying it in my palms.

No matter, I tell myself.

As frustrating and unfulfilling as the work may be, it pays the bills and keeps me busy.

A little too busy...

I get up once my stop arrives. I say a quick thank you to the bus driver before hurrying out.

The cold makes me shiver and I pull my skirt to cover more of my thighs before plastering a fake smile onto my face.

The fake smile is part of the uniform here.

My heels click together with attitude as I make my way through the building. The noise hits my ears immediately. Loud chattering, blaring music and upbeat announcements stand in sharp contrast to the calm of the rainy world outside. I blow kisses as my colleagues call out my name from the studio floor.

My friend and roommate Aliyah takes off her headset to wave me over. She left home extra early today owing to her busy schedule as floor manager. The glaring lights tell me they're about to start shooting but as much as I want to help her with final preparations, I have more important things to worry about right now.

"Can't talk now, Al!" I say apologetically. With one point to my tote bag, she understands. "Good luck!" she shouts back, before returning her attention to the production crew.

I sigh.

I will definitely need all the luck I can get.

I take the elevator up to the highest floor of the company. While our studios are bright, loud and fun. The offices are formal, professional and characteristic of a multibillion dollar company. I knock twice before heading into the largest office at the end of the hall, where my boss is waiting for me. The letters NNTV adorn the walls in an elegant gold print behind him.

A pair of glasses sits on the bridge of Mr. Lane's nose as he reads over today's reports.

"You're late, Ms. Aoki." He says without looking up.

"Apologies, sir. It was unexpected."

"Do I not say to account for the unexpected in your planning, Ms. Aoki?"

"It won't happen again, sir."

He offers me a *tsk* in response.

"Our ratings have gone down this month. Much more than we anticipated." Mr. Lane grumbles.

"CBS' new reality show has attracted a lot of viewers, sir. It's competing with our usual broadcasts at-."

"Then why have you not found a program to substitute whatever we usually air at that time?"

I bite back a sigh. "The current schedule is the most optimal, sir. If we switch around any programs we risk affecting the viewership of The Midnight Show and Killer."

"Well then figure something out!" He barks. "That's what your job is, isn't it?"

"We have a team for a reason, sir. Perhaps we can consult them today? I can schedule an emergency meeting to address this."

I say this knowing the rest of the team won't alter the schedule. The nature of the industry is ratings fluctuate all the time. To change our scheduling at every hint of a drop will only harm our future ratings.

He waves me away. "Schedule it for two hours from now. Cancel anything else I have at that time."

"Yes sir." I confirm, before turning around.

My nostrils seethe as I suddenly hear him mutter *Useless* under his breath.

The rest of the day is spent taking more orders and backtracking on Mr. Lane's previous decisions. Just as I'd expected, the board decided it would be better to simply wait out the next two weeks until the current programs are finished before rearranging any of the schedules. I make a mental note to consider what might be a suitable alternative in the meantime.

The hours drag on. I should have been done at 5, but 7 o clock hits and I'm still taking phone call after phone call. It isn't until a quarter to 9 that I can finally go home.

I sigh as I pass the much quieter studio floor on the way out. I don't find Aliyah among the crew, but I'm sure she's taking care of her own things at the moment. The Midnight Show is scheduled for well, midnight, so she's probably taking a final break before her last project of the night.

Once I am outside, I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding in. Instead of taking the bus straight home, I find myself walking toward Café Du Monde. It sits a few blocks away from the NNTV building.

The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries greets me as I enter. The soft jazz is welcomed by my ears after a day of nonstop chatter and corporate debate.

As I stand in line, I remind myself to pick up coffees before I leave for the crew working late tonight. Hopefully Aliyah will be back by then.

---

"Shit," I hear the man ahead of me in line mutter. "I think I forgot my wallet back in the office."

He checks his pockets again, but finding them empty he looks up at the cashier. "Sorry man, I'll be back another day."

But before he could walk away, I step up to the register. "It's okay, I got it."

He glances at me. "Nah, don't-"

"It's nothing. Can you add another coffee to the order please?"

The cashier punches a few numbers into the register and I hand him a 20.

---

The man tips his hand in thanks. I nod back at him and walk up to the roof.

With a coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, I sigh. Now to get the day out of my system...

"How can I repay you," A smooth voice says behind me.

I look over my shoulder to see the man walk up to the ledge with me. He has electrifying blue eyes, a head of thick dark hair, and the kind of walk that signifies authority.

"You good at conversation?" I ask.

He thinks for a moment. "How about I let you be the judge of that?"

I pass the man a cigarette. "Then distract me."

"You don't look like the type to smoke." He comments before accepting it.

"Looks can be deceiving." I shrug.

"It feel good or something?"

"Or something." I confirm with a smile. "Just reminds me to breathe in," and with a soft easing in my chest, "and breathe out."

He leans back against the railing. "Hm. You know breathing quality isn't exactly what people would associate with cigarettes."

I roll my eyes. "You know what I mean."

The man chuckles. "Yeah. Although I think rearranging a few things in your life would help more than smoking. Don't want to grow reliant on an outside source for relief now."

"Well, well. Wasn't aware I was speaking to a mental health guru."

He seems amused by that. "That's not what the people working for me would say but it's nice to know their sentiments aren't universal."

"Ah. So you're a shitty boss."

"I'm just a boss." He corrects. "What people think of me has nothing to do with me."

"Must be nice to believe that." I sigh, taking another puff of my roll.

"No reason not to, eh? Letting others' opinions matter to you means you lose power over yourself. There's nothing you could want from them that you can't do for yourself."

"Money?" I suggest.

"That's easy. But it depends on how willing you are to work for it."

"Work quite a lot." I scowl. "...starting to wonder if it's worth the headache, to be honest."

The man leans closer to me, his breath warm against my ear. I try not to focus on the scent of his cologne, musky with notes of amber and cedar wood. "Then what you want isn't really money. Sounds like you want more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Money by itself isn't satisfying," He says matter of factly. He leans away to take a sip of his coffee. "Only when it's coupled with a goal."

"Hm."

"Money doesn't take you anywhere; it's just a means to an end." He continues. There's an air of mystery behind those turquoise eyes of his. "Your goal is what guides you. Where do you want to go?"

Someone in this neighborhood that doesn't live and die for money? I almost want to laugh. What goal guides him then? What does he stay alive for?

But I keep those questions to myself. I shouldn't get too close to a man I'll never see again.

"I want to be my own boss." I say with a soft smile. Be my own boss. Wouldn't that be nice? No more waking up with Mr. Lane's voice already echoing in my head. No more plastering fake smiles and maintaining that "professional" semblance for hours on end. "I'm tired of taking orders from other people."

I almost miss the sudden gleam in his eye.

"Now that's more like it."

---

I leave the cafe with a box of donuts in one hand and a coffee tote in the other.

I said goodbye to the stranger, happy to have shared these thoughts with someone. It strikes me that I didn't even ask his name.

I shrug. Perhaps that's the magic of moments like these. The universe puts us in places we don't expect to be in. Brings two strangers together and they realize maybe this meeting was just what they needed today. The man got his coffee and I...I was able to let my thoughts run freely.

At least for a while.

"And now we abandon the fantasies and return to reality," I mutter with a sigh. I hook my pinkie with the large glass double doors of NNTV and pull the handle toward me.

There's a small audience present now, the guests for the Midnight Show. I walk around them and smile when I find Aliyah, arms crossed and eyes trained on the set, trying to catch any faults before we air.

"Al!" I call out in a whisper. She immediately looks my way, face lighting up at the sight of the coffee.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver!" She says excitedly as she takes the sweets from my hand. "Hey Joe, set this up for the crew, will ya?"

An intern shuffles forward and takes the bags anxiously to prepare a little station for the team.

"How'd you know I needed the coffee?" She smiles at me.

"Because I needed the coffee," I say with a laugh. "And you've been awake far longer than I have."

Aliyah laughs and rubs her eyes. "I forget how much time I spend here sometimes. No matter - you staying for the show tonight?"

I smile apologetically. "You know I'd love to, but I can barely keep my eyes open. I've got a long day tomorrow, I'm gonna need all the sleep I can get."

I say goodbye to the rest of the crew, smiling sheepishly as they spout *thank you*s for the late night coffee and donuts, and make my way home.

Later that night, as I lay in bed with my eyes trained on the ceiling, I feel a sudden urge to whisper these words out loud.

Please let my life be worth more than the value I add to a company.

#dabi #dabi x oc #dabi x female reader #todoroki touya #dabi fic #dabi fanfic #dabi angst #dabi fluff

[365days365movies]

May 10, 2021: Blade Runner 2049 (2017) (Recap: Part Two)

Said I’d talk about artificial humans in sci-fi, so...

There are a HELL of a lot of examples of artificial humans in science-fiction, as well as the ethical and philosophical concepts that their existence raises. Now, your definition of “artificial” may differ from medium to medium. At its base form, these are humans that are not born, but made. I’ll be talking fleshy organic humans, not robotic ones. The most common of these is, of course, clones.

A clone, strictly speaking, is a genetically identical copy of a pre-existing organism, in this case a human. While this isn’t technology we’ve applied to humans as of yet (due to the NUMEROUS ethical problems and questions), we have done so with animals, mostly sheep and cats. It’s actually a good way to de-extinct certain species, and we’ve already done experiments with that. Of course...that has its own concerns.

Keeping up the Jurassic Park reference streak! Anyway...

There are a FUCKTON of examples of clones in science-fiction, but since I’m a massive comic book nerd, I’ll use Superboy. The genetic combination of Superman and Lex Luthor, Conner Kent is one of the most prominent clone superheroes. He’s not the only clone of Superman, of course. He’s not even my favorite clone of Superman, to be honest...

Bizarro am the worst. ME WILL LIVE ON THAT HILL.

Oh, and let’s not forget THE most prominent artificial human in comic books PERIOD. I don’t care what her origin in the movies is, that’s never been my favorite version of Wonder Woman. Making her a demigod robs her of something important, in my opinion.

...Should I make a comic book blog? Shit, thinkin’ about it.

OK, before I do that, these are just my favorite examples. Fact is, there are FAR too many examples of artificial humans to go into, whether they’re built, grown, sculpted, conjured, or a chemical reaction with an extra ingredient in the concoction.

And look, I could go on all day about this, but we got a long-ass movie to get back to. SO, lets jump back in. Part One is here!

Recap (2/2)

Understandably exhausted, K returns home, confused and conflicted. However, he’s greeted with a surprise from Joi: a prostitute! Namely, this is Mariette (Mackenzie Davis), one of the girls who approached him earlier. Joi’s called her here in order to be “real” for K, the effect is impressive, if somewhat...off-putting. Still, while K obviously didn’t need this to be happy with their relationship, Joi might, and Mariette’s all on board.

And it doesn’t take K terrible long to get on board, either. As both Mariette and Joi strip, it makes me wonder...how much does this subscription service for Joi cost. There’s no goddamn way this is free, right? Like, how exclusive IS this AI? And they cut from that scene to a Joi commercial, where we hear that Joi becomes anything you want her to be, and does anything you want her to do. But something tells me that...well, that it’s not quite so simple.

Once the night is over, Joi tells Mariette to leave, and not nicely either. Mariette leaves, rebuking her on the way out as well. K, meanwhile, knows that the Blade Runners will soon be coming after him. He’ll be going on the run, and Joi wants to go with him. And so, they put her inside of a remote device, while deleting her information from the main apartment console. This gets the attention of Luv, who head over to the apartment to figure out what’s going on.

K goes to Doc Badger (Barkhad Adbi), who analyzes the horse for him. It’s discovered that old radiation can be found there, and that amount and kind of radiation can only be found in areas where a dirty bomb has been set off. This would be in the desolate and weird-ass ruins of Las Vegas. While nobody lives there at this point, K and Joi go to check it out.

An IMMENSELY frustrated Luv, unaware of K’s discovery about himself, goes to confront Joshi about K’s whereabouts. Luv berates her for being afraid of change, and tells her that she “can’t fend off the tide with a broom”. Which is a great line. However, as Joshi is no use to her at this point, Luv just straight up kills her. Which, I’m sure, will go over well with the whole “Replicants aren’t dangerous” thing.

Meanwhile, in Vegas...shit is WEIRD. First off all, the desolate wasteland is full of statues of giant sexy wimmin, and I mean GIANT statues. Beneath one of them is a series of beehives, which K goes into to get a hand of beeeees. After that, he goes into an abandoned hotel/casino, rigged with tripwires and booby traps. OK. What.

So, somebody’s using this place as a hideaway, despite the entire city being destroyed by a dirty bomb, and probably extremely radioactive. K searches around and finds it empty. He begins to play a piano, hoping to draw someone out. He ends up drawing out a dog, as well as the inhabitant of the hotel.

Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), baby! Quoting Stevenson’s Treasure Island and holding K up at gunpoint with dog at side is the original Blade Runner himself, Rick Fucking Deckard. God, I love this. Deckard hunts K down throughout the casino, where we see some trippy holograms, and the future of Vegas stageshows (probably).

The two fight, but eventually call a truce and decide to get a drink at the bar. K gets to it pretty quickly, and confronts Deckard on his potential child with Rachael. He confirms that Rachael was indeed pregnant by him, but he had never met his child. Which was the plan, to be fair. He wanted their child to be protected, not hunted down and eventually dissected.

Sometimes, to love someone...you gotta be a stranger.

To an old Frank Sinatra song, a forlorn K (now calling himself “Joe”) looks around, and sees carved wooden animals that resemble the horse that’s haunted his life and memories so much by this point. Which makes sense, considering the foil unicorn from the previous film. Neat little tie-in there.

But paradise is not all it’s cracked up to be, as someone soon comes to find both K and Deckard, despite the fact that K came alone. Although, now that I think about it, Joi may not be one that you can truly trust. Deckard and K try to escape their pursuers, but are caught pretty quickly. In the process, K is injured, but manages to get up in order to fight back. However, this is Luv with these people, and she beats K down EASILY. Turns out that Luv is actually an enforcer, rather than just a secretary. And when Joi awakens from K’s device to ask her to stop, well...she kills the device, and she kills K. In the process, she also takes Deckard away, leaving K behind. Fuck.

K wakes up, only to discover Mariette standing over him in the Las Vegas wasteland. She takes care of him as he wakes up, also stitching up with wounds from the explosion. She tells K to trust her, as well as her compatriots. One of them is the hooded woman from earlier, a Replicant named Freysa (Hiam Abbass). An old friend of Sapper’s she saw the delivery of the child, the “miracle”, and also hid the child away, as it was a symbol that the Replicants are more than just slave, that they are their own masters.

Freysa is building a revolution in order to free the Replicants once and for all. And I’m hard-pressed to disagree with their cause, not gonna lie. However, this comes at a price. In order to prevent Wallace from killing the cause, K must prevent Deckard from leading them to Freysa. They must do what they can until they can reveal the child to the world. For she will be their leader.

Fuck.

Understandably COMPLETELY crushed at this revelation, and more confused than ever, K collapses. Freysa tells him that they ALL wish they were the one, and they all believe. It’s at this point, that K realizes exactly who the Hybrid is: Dr. Ana Stelline. The horse from earlier, it turns out, did in fact belong to her, and she planted her childhood memory with the horse in K’s mind as a Replicant. Damn. DAMN! That’s why the memory moved her so: because it was hers.

Meanwhile, Deckard awakens to a separate nightmare: Jared Leto telling him how he feels about him. After all, Deckard helped to create the first Replicant-human hybrid. He asks him for his help in obtaining the child, so that the key of Replicant reproduction can be further unlocked. And he proceeds in convincing Deckard by playing audio of Rachael and his first meeting (from the first film, of course).

Niander fucks with him further, by suggesting Deckard was summoned all those years ago specifically to fall in love with Rachael in order to father a child with her. But despite all of this, Deckard refuses to give up any of his information. And so, Niander pulls out his ace-in-the-hole...and it’s a real shitty thing to do to a man in mourning. 

Damn. Dude rebuilt Rachael, tries to tempt Deckard with her, FAILS, then lets Luv shoot her in the head. Fucking power move, and fuck Niander for playing it. Dude is a DICK. Meanwhile. that one visual from every single ad of this movie is happening, and I can FINALLY use one of the 8000 GIFs of it, goddamn.

Not gonna lie, it’s an iconic appearance, so I get why it’s so famous. Anyway, K considers a suicidal option, now that he knows the truth. However, before we get to see the final decision, we get to see Deckard being taken back to LA for interrogation by Wallace. However, to prevent him from potentially leading Wallace to the secret of Ana Stelline, K suddenly appears, opening fire on their ship.

The craft is downed, and K exits the car to engage in a firefight with Luv. He appears to win, but Luv isn’t killed once she’s shot. The two have a fistfight out in the rain, and Deckard waits for water to slowly kill the craft that he’s still inside of.

As expected, Luv handles herself well, and despite a number of close calls, she JUST. WILL. NOT. DIE. Damn, she’s resilient. However, despite K, Luv, and Deckard all nearly drowning in an INTENSE fight between the Replicants, an enraged and crazed Luv finally eventually drowns, ending her threat for good. 

K saves Deckard from the sinking ship, and agrees to stage his death, allowing him to meet his daughter for the first time. Once at her facility, K returns Deckard’s horse to him, knowing that it was a gift from him. He tells Deckard that his best memories all come from her, implying that this makes him similar to Deckard’s son, which he picks up on when he asks if he’s OK.

Deckard goes to meet his daughter, and K hangs out on the stairs outside. He feels the snow fall on his hand, and he just...watches it all fall around him. He sits, and he watches it all. And meanwhile, Deckard meets his daughter for the first time.

...Can I just say...GODDAMN!

That movie was absolutely stellar, and it’s definitely landing in the high ‘90s for me, calling it now. I...wow. Seriously. Amazing.

See you in the Review!

#blade runner #blade runner 2049 #denis villeneuve #ryan gosling #harrison ford #rick deckard #deckard #ana de armas #dave bautista #jared leto #edward james olmos #robin wright #sylvia hoeks #science fction may #sci-fi may #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #jlugifs #usertilly #filmgifs

[lost-in-the-80s]

First Date

Pairing: Duff McKagan x (fem) reader

Words: 1.421k

Summary: You and Duff go on your first date together. (fluff)

A/N: This is my first fic, so please tell me if it's shitty or not. And tell if you guys think I should write more.

It was a Thursday night, you were working on your shift at The Rainbow when a group of guys entered the place. There were five of them and you had never seen them here before.

The first one was a ginger of average height, he was wearing a blue bandana on his hair, black leather pants and a t-shirt. Right behind him came a brunette guy, taller than the guys around him he wore a black unbuttoned shirt and leather pants. On his side was another brunette, but his hair was curly and he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Then came a blonde boy of average height and fuzzy hair, he wore a white tank top and a pair of jeans. 

On your eyes they seemed like nothing out of the usual until the last one entered the place. He was tall. Like, really tall. His hair was blonde and teased, he was wearing black leather pants and a Ramones shirt, and for some odd reason you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

They sat on a table and you got your notepad and went to ask for their orders.

"Welcome to The Rainbow, what can I get you guys today?" They looked at you for a few seconds and your eyes moved to the tall blonde guy, he was staring, so you quickly looked back to the ginger and hoped none of them would notice the blush creeping your cheeks.

"One Tequila, one vodka, one red wine, a beer and one whiskey, please" said the ginger one. You wrote quickly on your notepad before looking back to them and giving a small smile "Alright, I'll be right back".

You went to the bar and told the barman the order. Once he gave you all the booze you went back, putting the different glasses and bottles on the table. "My name is Y/N, if you guys need something else just call me". The blonde with fuzzy hair said thank you to you and gave you a bright smile.

After sometime you were still serving tables when you felt as if someone was looking at you, you looked back and realized it was the tall blonde. However he looked away so quickly that you doubted if he was really looking at you, or if it was just your imagination.

"Y/N!" You heard someone shout. It was Jack, the barman. "I'll have a cig, can you stay at the bar for me for a while?" He asked, already leaving the counter. You just nodded and moved to his previous place.

Not even a minute had passed when you noticed someone approaching the bar, you looked up and there it was, the tall blonde guy. "What can I get you, big guy?"

"Five beers, please" He said with a low voice.

You put the beers on the counter and decided to start some small talk while you opened the bottles. "So… Ramones huh?"

He smiled for a second and you thought that he looked beautiful when he smiled. "You like 'em?"

"Hell yeah!" You said opening the last bottle. He looked in your eyes for some seconds before giving one last smile and taking the beers.

----

That was almost a year ago. You smiled to yourself remembering that night while the same five guys entered the bar again.

They had become frequent, coming at least once a week. Guns 'n Roses was now known for almost everybody at the Sunset Strip, they were playing gigs everywhere, including at the Rainbow. 

"Hello Y/N!" Said Steven, always smiling. "Hey Stevie, how are you?"

"I'm brilliant" you smiled at him and answered to the hellos of the rest of the group. 

You guys have become close during the past months, now you even considered the boys some of your closest friends. 

They sat at their typical table and you went over to get their orders. "The same as always?" You asked smiling. "Off course, doll" said Axl. 

"How are you Y/N?" Asked Duff. He had a cigarette between his fingers and looked at your eyes so intensely that you thought he could see your soul through them. "I'm just fine Duff" 

You touched slightly his shoulder before going to get their booze. You told Jack the order and looked back to the table while waiting. As per usual, Duff was looking at you.

It has been like this since the first day, whenever you would leave the table you would look back to the guys and Duff would be looking at you.

You served them their drinks and moved on with your job. About an hour later you passed near the guys' table and heard they whispering shouting "Don't be a pussy!" "I'm not being one!" "Then go and talk to her!". 

When they noticed that you were close they stopped and acted as if nothing was happening. You shrugged and went to cover Jack at the bar for a while.

You looked at the boys' table and they were gesticulating and whispering again. Axl seemed annoyed, Slash was gesturing towards the bar, you could read Steven's lips say "Just Go!" And Izzy seemed bored, as per usual.

Suddenly Duff got up and came in your direction. "More beer?" You asked.

"Hmm… yeah." He said while looking to the counter. You grabbed the bottles and started opening them when he spoke again "Y/N?"

"Duff…"

"I was wondering… Would you… Would you like to go out with me on Friday?" He was still avoiding your eyes.

"I would love to, Duff" 

Hearing that he looked up with a bright smile. "Cool".

"How about we meet here at 7pm?" 

"Sounds like a plan to me" 

He smiled at you again before grabbing the beers and leaving.

----

For the rest of that night you couldn't stop smiling. It was Friday now. You had changed shifts with a friend so you could go out with Duff.

You were finishing your makeup. You applied one more layer of mascara and looked at you in the mirror. You wore a simple green dress with your white sneakers and a light makeup. You smiled to yourself and thought "I hope I'm dressed properly".

You grabbed your bag and walked down the few blocks between your apartment and the bar. 

Once you got there, Duff was waiting for you outside, he was smoking a cigarette. You took your time to admire him before he could notice you. 

He was wearing his famous leather pants, along with a t-shirt and his denim jacket. He noticed you and smiled, tossing his cigarette out.

"Hey. You look gorgeous!" He said as you two hugged. "Thank you, you don't look so bad yourself"

"Let's go?" He asked. You nodded and he hold your hand for the next few blocks to a small and cozy restaurant.

You guys found a table, ordered, and spent the next couple of hours talking about your childhood stories and what you wanted to do in the future. Duff told you about when he lived in Seattle and some stories of his family and you told him about how you moved from San Francisco to try to become an Actress. 

You two didn't even realize the time passing by. It was as if time had stopped and just the two of you existed.

You just noticed how late it was because when you came back from the bathroom you noticed that you were the only people remaining there. "I think we should go.." you said "Oh, yeah! Off course."

Duff insisted on walking you to your apartment, and gave you his jacket. You two walked hand in hand, while Duff told you stories of when the band went to Seattle to do a tour. 

"Well.. we're here" You said stopping. You knew it was late, but you didn't really want to say goodbye. 

"So…" he started. "Do you think we could do this again some day?" 

"Off course, Duff" 

He smiled down at you and stepped closer. With his hand he put a lock of your hair behind your ear. 

He looked you in the eyes, and then looked at your lips then back at your eyes. 

He leaned down and his lips touched yours ever so gently that if you didn't know him, you wouldn't think he was in a dangerous rock band.

You two pulled apart after a few seconds and you smiled at him.

"Good night Y/N" he said smiling.

"Good night Duff".

#harley writes #duff x reader #duff mckagan fanfic #duff mckagan imagine #guns n roses #duff mckagan fluff #gnr #gnr imagine #80s #classic rock imagine #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses fanfic #duff mckagan

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2020

day 04- drink me under

title: Inebriating Love

summary: Modern AU - it’s a lonely, Sunday night and Sakura doesn’t want to spend it alone with her memories.

a/n: I suck at summaries hahaha okay, I LOVED writing this one! I had this idea a while ago when I was listening to an old song and I just had to use that feeling of two lovers in the night with SasuSaku. I’m not sure if it worked the way it was meant to, but I’m happy with the result! I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I also hope you forgive me for my mistakes. My beta is still busy, so all the typos and grammar mistakes are on me. Have fun!

Rated T

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Though Sakura has always considered herself to possesse a wild imagination, her 13-year-old self would’ve never pictured she would eventually grow up to become a regular costumer at the nearby pub. In fact, being the goody two-shoes she used to be, her younger self would’ve laughed at whoever said anything that stupid about the brilliant future that certainly awaited for her.

First, I will graduate high school with the best scores, then I will be a famous doctor. I’ll stay away from any addictions and I’ll marry a wonderful guy so we can have two, wonderful kids before I turn thirty!

She would answer that whenever someone asked her about what she wanted to be when she grew up, and there would be no doubt lingering in her voice regarding it. Sakura had everything planed for herself, and anything slightly different from that scenario would be unacceptable.

Poor, little girl, she thinks now, taking a sip of her double scotch. There’s a smirk decorating her lips as she places the glass back on the wooden counter, and she closes her eyes as the liquor slips down her throat.

It doesn’t burn anymore. Hasn’t burned in ages, in fact. The alcohol now is no stranger to her body, but unfortunately, it’s not as effective as it used to be when she first started coming to this place. She rarely gets drunk anymore, needing many doses to make her pass out, but she doesn’t know if that’s something that a small-town girl should be proud of.

Her life was supposed to have been different. Maybe not exactly like the one she had pictured, but she should’ve been able to do more after she actually managed to become a doctor and work at a prestigious hospital. She believes she has become a successful woman— a strong one, as some of her young patients usually call her— but that alone isn’t enough to protect her from a lonely night.

If it were, perhaps, she wouldn’t be all alone in a pub, drinking her problems away and talking to her only friend in the city, Uchiha Sasuke— the pub-owner.

Tonight, since most of his employees are off duty, he is the one serving his clients their drinks, and right now, he is giving another dose of whiskey to the old man sitting some benches away from her. Her green eyes carefully observe him from her seat as he slowly pours another dose while telling him that, maybe, he’s had enough for the night. There aren't many people drinking on this Sunday night— 4, including her, all of them men around their fifties— and she couldn’t help but feel a bit greedy.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the night itself, but Sakura doesn’t want to share him tonight. She enjoys his company more than she cares to admit, and seeing him so far away makes her rosy lips turn into a pout. He’s the reason why she keeps coming back to this place, and he’s also the only person who makes her feel less shitty about herself— and that says a lot.

At first, the pinkette thought it was just the way he treated all the other costumers, but slowly, she realized that was not the case. He’s a cordial man to everyone, at most, but it’s become easy for her to tell that he actually likes her. He is always sincere whenever he asks her about her day, and more than once has he closed the pub earlier so they could have a drink or two while sharing a pizza. They talk about a lot of things, and she simply loves to hear the weird stories about some weird costumers and their weird stories.

Whenever she hears about these people, a part of her just hopes she’s not just another weird story in his repertoire.

Ever since she arrived in the city and destiny brought them together, he has been there for her, giving her tips on the urban life and even telling her which restaurants she should order food from whenever she didn’t feel like cooking. Eventually, they discovered that they have a lot of similar interests, such as mystery books, horror movies and old, American songs— the kind that would always start playing whenever she came by— and it’s undeniable that they feel comfortable enough around each other to share some personal memories, too.

In the same way he knows about her life before she ended up where she is, Sakura knows about his family. Knows that he has lost them in an accident over 10 years ago, and that he gave up on his layer carrier after that. She also knows about the fan tattoo he has on his right forearm and that he has a snake named Aoda in his small apartment.

He’s a very interesting guy, indeed. He holds an unique and mysterious charm behind his obsidian eyes and stoic features, and even after years of coming and going, the pinkette still feels herself being drawn to him.

How intriguing, she thinks, propping her elbow on the counter. Unconsciously, she rests her chin on the palm of her right hand, squinting her eyes a bit as she continues to stare at him. She notices that he slightly turns his head to spare her a side glance, and instead of looking away when their eyes meet, Sakura holds his stare for a couple of seconds too long until, eventually, he has to break contact in order to pay attention to his other costumer. There’s a sly smirk decorating her face now, and she also notices the way his lips twitch upward.

This is something they do on regular basis, now. She didn’t really notice it, at first, but eventually, Sakura realized that it’s not unusual for their eyes to meet whenever he’s serving another person. It used to be shy and unconscious, but after a while, she started doing it on purpose, just to see what his reaction would be.

It’s a bold move of hers— or, at least, she thinks it is. An unspoken challenge between their eyes, as they tease and expose each other with every exchanged glance. It’s an amusing and harmless flirt, and though they have no idea of how to beat this ruleless game, neither of them seem to be in a hurry to end it or anything like that.

However, losing this game doesn’t seem to be that bad.

Once he finally manages to walk away from the older guy, the Uchiha doesn’t waste his chance to come to her. His steps are slow, but soon, he’s standing across the counter from her. The warm lights that illuminate the bottles behind him highlight his handsome features, and she knows she could just stare at him for hours without stopping.

“Having fun with your other costumers, Sasuke-kun?” She asks, her eyes now holding a joyful gleam.

“You can say so.” He says, simply, organizing some of the glasses and bottles near his reach. “In fact, he’s curious about you.”

“Me?” She furrows her brows.

“Aah. He doesn’t understand what a pretty girl is doing all by herself in a place like this.”

“Well…” She starts, the tip of her tongue smoothing her lower lip. Sakura loves hearing that question whenever she comes by, especially since she doesn’t know the answer herself. Every time, she makes a new excuse and creates a different lie, just to see how people would react to her crazy stories. Tonight, though, she doesn’t really feel very creative. “Tell him it’s just a lonely night playing its tricks.”

“…I see.” He nods, knowing better not to press on her matters. Though he has heard her problems many times before, Sasuke has learned that, on some nights, nothing really can be done. He knows when she needs space and when she needs a shoulder to cry on, and right now, it’s clear that it’s the former. “He's been ordering the same as you, but I don’t think he will be able to stand for too long.”

“It takes years of practice to reach my level, right?”

“Years, right?” His lips curl up slightly at her words, probably remembering the girl she used to be when they first met. On that day, she had ordered a diet coke, and she made him swear at least three times there was no drop of alcohol in her glass before she took a sip. And even if nowadays there are times when she really just comes for her diet coke, she knows he’s a man worthy of her trust.

“Yeah.” She giggles, then, taking the last sip of her drink. “Tell him that befriending the pub-owner does that to you.”

“Oh, so now this is on me?”

“Of course. If you weren’t such a nice guy, perhaps, I wouldn’t be here tonight.”

“Hn.” He closed his eyes, pouring some more in her glass. Though she didn’t really use words to ask him, he already knows how to read her unspoken wishes. “I'm glad I’m a nice guy, then.”

“Very nice, indeed.”

She takes another sip of her new drink, and allows her mind to drift back to the moments they shared. Though she really believes him to be a nice guy, Sakura can’t help but feel a certain heat pooling in her stomach because of the times when he wasn't really that nice.

Her eyes land on his hands— so strong and firm— and she remembers how warm they feel against her bare skin. The way his muscles tense at her touch and the marks he leaves on her hips whenever he pins her against a wall are signs of his hidden roughness, and she bites her lower lip at the memory of his kisses trailing down her neck.

Though that black shirt might make him look composed and recollected, she knows better than to believe that professional facade of his. His intense stare and his dark locks hide more than anyone can tell, and she likes to believe this is their little secret.

It has happened a few times already and even if they say they can’t keep doing this forever, it’s a lot easier said than done. They share a deep connection neither of them really understand, and from time to time, their souls seek for a certain comfort that they can only find within each other.

It’s more than just physical need, they know. It’s more than raging hormones and alcohol, for there’s an intimacy neither of them had counted on when they first started their rendezvous. They’re already past that one-night-stand thing, but to say it’s something more—well, perhaps she’s still too sober to dwell into this.

“You're oddly quiet tonight.” He says, breaking her from her thoughts.

A soft smiles crosses her lips as her fingers start playing with the brim of her glass. She looks down, at first, then her eyes return to him. “I guess I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Anything is fine, I suppose.”

“Uhmm…” She hums, trying to think about what to say. “I guess it would be easier if I was like the others that come here with marriage problems or because they got fired.”

“But you’re not like them, Sakura.” He states, his dark eyes intensely staring at her. Her heart starts pounding faster in her chest, the air feeling too heavy inside her lungs. She feels defenseless under his stare, as if he is stripping her of her good senses, and although she really came by just for a couple of drinks and a nice talk, something inside her urges for more. His sincere concern is probably his most charming feature, and he knows exactly when to use it against her.

Damn it, she really hates him for that.

“Well...” She starts, a teasing smile on her lips. “You would probably know exactly what to tell me, right?"

“It depends a lot, to be honest.”

“How so?”

“If the problem had anything to do with your job, I would probably just tell you to try again since this is the main reason why you came to the city in the first place. Your job is important to you, and even if you complain about it every now and then, we both know you love what you do.”

“This is a very good advice, indeed. Very professional.” She giggles, tilting her head to the side. “And what if it was about marriage problems?”

“In that case, I don’t think I would be able to give you a real advice on that.” He starts, looking around, as if he is checking his surroundings. She can tell he’s mostly messing around, but by the time he leans towards her, she doesn’t miss the way his eyes grow a bit darker. Their faces are bare inches apart, and the smell of his cologne invades her nostrils as he whispers to her. “I don’t think I would be able to remain impartial.”

Her eyes drift to his lips for a second, and it’s as if she can feel his warmth irradiating towards her body. Sakura is very aware that he’s teasing her, and even if she would normally be a bit more cautious with her words around him, right now, she doesn’t really seem to care about extending their little game for the night. “I guess I would be talking to the problem himself, right?”

A smirk grows on his face at her words, and slowly, he returns to his previous position. He’s towering over her now, only the wooden counter standing between their bodies. They don’t move for a couple of seconds, their lustful eyes still too busy flirting with each other to even pay attention to the world around them. And if not for his other costumer calling his name, they would’ve remained like that for who knows how long.

Once their eye contact is broken, she looks down at her drink once more, her lips still holding the memory of a smirk. Seeing how bothered his face seems right now is incredibly amusing, and for that, she decides to forgive that man for interrupting them.

He just wanted his drink, after all.

“Someone’s calling you, mister barman.”

“Tch.” He scoffs. “Don't go anywhere. I’ll be right back”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be right here with my drink.” She starts, her eyes now sparing his other costumer a side-glance. “But I don’t think our pal over there is gonna last that much longer.”

Sighing defeatedly, the raven haired boy makes his way towards the other guy. He’s speaking louder now, his words coming out with no connection between them. For what she could understand, he was trying to say anything about being an excellent drinker, and that he could drink more than everyone in that pub. He seems completely sure about that, but to no one’s surprise, it doesn’t take long before his head falls face-first on the counter top. At first, both Sasuke and her worry that he might have stopped breathing, but as soon as the Uchiha confirms that the man is just asleep, she relaxes again. Apparently, instead of an ambulance, they believe calling a cab should be just fine.

Her eyes are still looking at Sasuke from afar as he ponders his next options with his sleeping costumer. Judging by his face, the Uchiha seems troubled, and this is enough to make her laugh. It’s an honest laugh, she knows, and she realizes she hasn’t laughed like that for a while now. She rests her head on her left hand this time, and allows herself to appreciate that rare moment of joy in such an awful night.

When she left home that evening, the pinkette could’ve never imagined she would actually be able to laugh at a drunk man, and she believes she has to thank Sasuke for that. Though she knows her problems are still lingering in her mind, haunting her for even daring to show signs of happiness, Sakura is not a woman who willingly chooses to remain unhappy. As long as she can identify a valid way out, she’s always fast to ignore whatever is bothering her, and even if that doesn’t solve anything, at least it works as a coping mechanism.

Sometimes, she thinks, overthinking is just a useless, human reaction. There are times when worrying about something won’t really do anyone no good, and tonight is one of those times.

Sure, she could have chosen to tell him about her childhood best friend who got married in her home town and even the fact that she wasn’t invited for it. She could tell him how those severed ties made her really homesick, and how missing her family makes her remember her grandmother’s harsh words when she first told them she was moving out because of her new job.

Sakura could’ve really told him all that, but what difference would it have made tonight?

Knowing him, Sasuke would probably try to tell her not to let those things get to her, but at least for tonight, it’s already too late. It’s already gotten her— a lot more than she thought it would— and now it’s just too late to fix anything.

Not that she even tried, to begin with.

At the same moment she decided to come by for a couple of drinks, the pinkette had an idea of how her evening would end. She never really planned on getting a different point of view on that matter and she certainly wasn’t looking for any advice on what to do next.

Sakura was just thirsty for a drink or four and some good company. His company, more specifically.

By the time she makes up her mind, the Uchiha has already called that man a cab and the other costumers are also taking their leave. They all pay him for the drinks and the service, and when they’re finally left alone, Sasuke decides that it should be fine if he closes earlier tonight. She’s still sitting on her bench when returns from the now locked door, her glass now almost empty, and her eyes follow him as he starts placing the bottles back on the shelves.

“Do you want some help with anything, Sasuke-kun?” She asks, sincerely.

“Thank you for the offer, but don’t worry. I’ll just organize a couple of things so Naruto can finish everything tomorrow morning.”

“I bet he’s gonna love the surprise.” She chuckles, her mind already imagining the blonde cursing his boss. “You should give him a raise.”

“Not happening.” He denies, firmly.

“Well, I’ve tried.” She shrugs, a smile on her face as she closes her eyes for an instant, her mind drifting back to his other costumer. “I guess that guy still has some training to do if he wants to beat me.”

“He really didn’t know what he was getting himself into.” He nods, wiping the counter top from peanut shells. “Barely he knew you would be drinking him under the table so early.”

“They never do.” She says, proudly, before finishing her drink.

There’s a smirk on his face at her words. Thinking that such a small girl would actually be able to handle so much alcohol without even losing balance really amazes him. “Do you want another drink?”

“Oh, no. I’ve had my share for tonight, thank you, Sasuke-kun.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to work tomorrow or anything and you didn’t even drink that much tonight.”

“I’m sure.” She says, and it’s as if she can feel her eyes turning a darker shade of green as she looks at his back. Her heart is beating faster now, and she knows she won’t be able to hold an innocent conversation for too long. When he turns to face her, then, she holds his stare for a bit too long, and unconsciously bats her eyelashes. She’s blushing now— just a dust of pink on her cheeks— and she takes a deep breath before her voice comes out almost as a whisper. “I might not be close to drinking myself under, but…as they say, another drink and I’ll be under the host.”

Her eyes are half-closed now as she looks at him, and slowly, she makes a bridge with her fingers that lingers just below her pouting lips. Sakura is very aware of what she’s doing right now, and judging by the way his eyes grow fonder, she can tell he knows it, too. They’re way past subtle advances now, but they know better than to just skip the steps.

A little romance never did anyone no harm, after all.

After they maintain eye-contact for a couple of seconds, the Uchiha is the first to break it, as he clears his throat, causing the smile on her face to widen a bit. Once he finishes what he was doing, he grabs a bottle he keeps under the counter and a clean glass before walking away so he can join her on the other side. He takes a seat next to her, and carefully, he pours them another dose and handles her the previously-empty glass. He’s also holding one, now, and her expression softens as he comes closer.

“Then let’s make it worth it."

Their faces are just inches apart when he says that, and she can’t find words to describe how good this feels. Though it’s far from the relationship she had pictured for herself a long time ago, Sakura believes this is much better than settling for what’s considered to be normal all over the world. Sasuke has brought an adventurous charm into her life, and he has showed her how beautiful the rain is even in the middle of a storm. He’s probably the most simple, yet most intriguing part of her life, and right now, she can’t really imagine herself without him anymore.

He has turned her small and monotonous world upside-down, and made her learn that, sometimes, people can grow thirsty for one another and there’s nothing wrong with that.

They clink their glasses before drinking the liquor, and they giggle a bit to that. His hand is now cupping her face, and his thumb softly brushes her cheek. They don’t need any words to express their feelings now, and when he finally kisses her— so roughly, yet gentle and passionate— it’s like all the alcohol she has consumed during the evening is making her throat burn. Her stomach is on fire, her heart is racing and she’s growing intoxicated by his touch.

Uchiha Sasuke is certainly the strongest and most inebriating thing in her life, and in this big and lonely city, he’s the only one who can quench her thirst.

fin.

#sasusaku #sasusaku month 2020 #ssmon20 #ssm20d4 #sasusaku fanfiction #myssfics

[ghost-in-the-hella]

Angst prompts: 14 or 20 for LiS

20: “This was never supposed to happen.”

You want angst? You got it.

---

“This was never supposed to happen.”

You don’t even realize you’ve said it aloud until you see the heartbroken look on Max’s face. Those words have been ringing in your head nonstop since last October. You’ve left a trail of black marker behind you all across the country, tagging every stop along the way so that the rest of the world would know; it’s a wonder you’ve managed not to say it to Max before now.

Because this life - this life you and Max have somehow cobbled together from the ashes of your past lives like some fucked up kind of phoenix - wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were supposed to die with a hole in your heart and a curse on your lips, scared and bleeding on dirty bathroom tiles.You were supposed to be forgotten as soon as the bloodstains were washed away. Chloe who? Max was supposed to let you die so that nobody else had to. Max was supposed to be in class, peacefully oblivious to the death of the girl she’d once called her best friend and then forgot for five long years. Nathan was supposed to go to jail, to detox, to a mental health facility; not to end up in his own shallow grave.

Rachel was supposed to live forever. She was supposed to run away to L.A. with you and become a famous model. You were supposed to be her trusty chauffeur, bodyguard, lover. The two of you were supposed to take over the goddamn world together. Or you were at least supposed to share a shitty apartment in some sketchy part of L.A. and scrape together the rent doing whatever menial job you could manage to pick up. It was supposed to be the two of you against the world, always and forever.

Your dad was supposed to come home that day with your mom and too many groceries for one person to carry. He was supposed to dance with you at your wedding and tell you that he’s proud of you no matter who you love and teach his awful dad jokes to his grandchildren no matter how many times you rolled your eyes.

Your mom was supposed to be happy. She was at least supposed to be alive. She was supposed to complain about your antics til her hair went grey and she was supposed to love you anyway. 

Max was supposed to stay in Arcadia Bay. She was supposed to be your best friend forever. She was supposed to be the glue that held you together after your dad died. The two of you were supposed to grow up and move in together and paint everything in your shared apartment gold like you promised when you were younger.

Max was supposed to stay in Seattle. She was supposed to forget that you had ever existed and live a normal life. No super powers, no life and death decisions, no world-changing consequences. She was supposed to have a healthy relationship with a stable person and be a famous photographer and live her dreams instead of her nightmares.

“Shhh, shhh…” Max pulls you into her lap and rocks you like a baby, and you’re crying so hard that you feel like one. “I love you,” she promises, and the thing that hurts most is that you know she believes it. “I love you so much.”

Max was never supposed to fall in love with you. She was never supposed to throw her life away like that. She was never supposed to live in a crappy RV, constantly moving around the country because she never feels safe staying in one place anymore. She was never supposed to cry every time it rains, to wake up screaming every night from dreams of pasts that never happened and futures that can never be. She was never supposed to look in the mirror every morning and see the haunted face of someone who chose to let thousands die to keep one wretched, ungrateful soul alive. She was never supposed to carry this burden.

“I love you,” she repeats, stroking your hair that you haven’t washed in over a week because what’s the fucking point, what’s the point of anything, what’s the point of keeping yourself alive, “It’s going to be okay.”

“Nothing about this is okay!” You thrash and wail and grind your teeth, and Max holds you like she’s trying to calm a frightened animal. And maybe she really is; you’re nothing but adrenaline and instinct and brain chemicals screaming at you to fight or flee or die, or to do all three at once.

“I know,” she says wearily, “but I love you anyway.”

“Why!?” you wail. You cry in her arms until you’re too empty to move, and she never gives you an answer. She just keeps holding onto you, and maybe that’s an answer in itself.

#life is strange #life is strange spoilers #lis #lis spoilers #pricefield #amberprice #chloe price #max caulfield #fanfic #prompt fic #prompt ghost #spoilers below the cut

[soyouareandrewdobson]

The biggest post yet: Analyzing a multipage story

Before I begin, I like to thank every follower so far and the ones who helped me over the course of the last weeks to build this tumblr up. This is for you and in a way the first test run for future, hopefully more elaborate reviews of Dobson’s comics. Hope you enjoy it and learn something.

Without further ado, ladys, gentlemen and the colorful rianbow inbetween, I present the unpublished “So you are a cartoonist?” story about the King of Queens trying to become a comic artist

Okay, this is not quite right. What is going to happen is as followed:

A few years ago Dobson released via his patreon the unpublished sketches of a multipage comic story about the struggles of a webcomic artist by the name of Kevin James, with no relation to the famous comedian who as of recently is also playing a neo nazi in a supposedly pretty damn good home invasion movie.

What I want to do is now go through this comic and point out some of the flaws in the writing/progression, okay? Cause honestly, this is not going to be the worst thing Dobson ever published. But it unfortunately has more than a few little hiccups that show Dobson’s flaws when it comes to creating a story.

So off to the next pages

Now as you can see, it is pretty obvious that the story is heading into a direction where Kevin seems to be a down on his luck creator. Having to work at the blandest named Burger Joint since Good Burger, with discount Doctor Wily as his manager and getting pretty little money into his account. Seriously, only 206 $ plus? I don’t know much about minimum wage in the states, but are you really getting that little even after taxes have been accounted for? Or is it likely Kevin is pretty deep into the reds and his deposit was even putting it into the plus again. If so… yaiks.

And now we are getting into the pages where a few slight problems may show up, depending on your own interpretation of things.

 See, in my opinion it is obvious that we are meant to feel sorry for Kevin, cause he lost his minimum wage job now for simply being late. Something that can happen to all of us. And yeah, losing your job when you have not really much in the bank, that sucks. So I would wish for the character to get at least a new job soon. However, we also need to acknowledge that the manager is not in the wrong here. After all, Kevin supposedly has shown up late for work for some time and his excuse that he was late because he had to work on his comic is not reasonable. For a lack of a better word, making this comic is just his hobby, not his job. His job is to make burgers and sell them, because the manager of the burger joint is paying him for that. So excuse me if my sympathy is not that much with him

Not really much to say here. I just want to point out two things: One, the countdown that showed up also in previous pages and goes further down the longer we get into the story, two that it actually may be a good thing that Dobson has not drawn the copy shop employee in more detail. Cause one thing I came to realize over time with Dobson is, that often times his sketches have more of a softness to them than the final product, where e.g. faces are more harsher and frankly, uglier than they need to be, in addition to being a bit oversaturated thanks to the colors. And with Dobson’s tendency to make also angry faces genuinely spiteful, I wonder if the copy shop owner would have come off in the final product as more “strawman mean” than necessary. Cause it is very obvious that “poor Kevin” seems to suffer from the indifferences of his environment.

 One month since he was fired and one more month till we are in the present and he loses his electricity cause he has not paid his bills. And this is where I slightly start to lose my sympathy with the character. Again, it is obvious that the story wants us to feel bad for Kevin because he is down on his luck although all he wants to do is just create his comic.

But at the same time, only halfway through the comic I have to ask, how much of his shitty situation is not just him doing nothing against it?

I mean, he has obvious money issues, he can’t pay the electricity bill and he has been fired a month ago. Shouldn’t he at this point not have attempted yet to get a replacement job? Or ask for unemployment support? Do commission work for fans in exchange for money?

I am just saying, his woes become a bit less relatable if he does not really attempt to at least try and fix the situation.

And unfortunately, this development continues still

 Gesh, this comic is really old when Kevin still owns a flip phone…

Also, I need to give his mom credit. 500$ send to her son so that he can pay his debts off and live well enough for a few days. Sorry, but 500$ is actually enough for me to live for a month and pay my groceries and major bills if I am careful enough. Lets hope Kevin is the same and that he looks out for a job

 … nope, he does not look for a job. Two weeks after he got the money he still does not have a job to support himself and assure he has a roof over his head. In fact, he likely loses more money than he necessarily needs to by going to a diner.

Look, unlike other characters created by Dobson, I really do not hate Kevin. Primarily because he does not show any of the despicable or idiotic traits other characters by him do. But Kevin is not doing anything to improve his situation, period. And that is not really how you should write “down on their luck” characters, cause that doesn’t really make them sympathetic. The sympathy a reader gives those characters stems primarily from the fact, that though they really try their best, fate is not working into their favor for different reasons beyond their control. But here the problem is, that Kevin has to a certain degree control over his situation. He can decide what he wants to do with the money, he can decide to either do or not do anything to improve his situation at least slightly. And he doesn’t do anything.  

Dear lord, Kevin is essentially Dobson when it comes to the laters overall situation and how he does little to improve anything when he is stuck.

Then there is also the entire thing about the waitress calling Kevin’s work amazing. For starters, I kinda doubt that that in our modern day society and work environment her acting like that in front of a customer, even if the customer does not mind, would fly with her employer. After all, professionalism and all that. Next, her praise feels shallow. The typical cardboard speech praise checkmark lines you can give to any piece of work, that don’t really mean anything if you do not elaborate on what it really is you find amazing about the characters in terms of personality or what it is about the story that hits home (e.g. can you realte to the characters, are you genuinely thinking the story is funny etc)

In fact, what even is Kevin’s comic?

 I get that his work is not the center stage of this story, but think about it: we are supposed to think that Kevin is talented and that he needs his lucky break. But would his work even justify success and admiration? All we know is that the comic features a character called Kat (not really an original name) who for a lack of a better word and based on the sketch outline may just be the bastard offspring of Bubsy and Talus from Alex ze Pirate. And that is it. For all I know, and taking for shit and giggles a made up meta narrative into account, his work may actually be on the same level as Alex ze Pirate itself. And if that is the case, let me just fill out an application as janitor for Kevin right now. If he is lucky he can make around 1000 dollars a month soon.

 This right here is actually a prime example of a common problem in Dobson’s longer story: Him breaking the old rule of “show, don’t tell”. The narrative tells us e.g. via the words of the waitress and the fact he has fans, that Kevin is a good cartoonist. But we do not see it for ourselves. And I am not suggesting here Dobson should draw 20 additional pages of Kevin’s creations and comics, because that would be freaking overkill. But imagine if this comic started off with the first page being part of a a very fantastic fight scene or story. Something rich in color and characters. Only for it to be revealed in the next page to be actually NOT the story we are supposed to read, but something Kevin creates right now. By doing so Dobson could not only show for the actual main story that Kevin is justified in having success, Dobson could have also shown for himself how he can be imaginative. How he can toy with tropes and expectations, while also creating something “new” out of nowhere just for fun. But that is not what we got. And all we have now are four more pages.

 Again, ONE MORE WEEK passed and he still did not get a job. And in fact, he is also overdue on his rent and wants to ask his mother AGAIN for money.

Dude… I am all out of sympathy. Sell your freaking kidney for all I care, offer your landlord oral sex or that you are going to do work around the house for him, just try to do something except beg mother to help you out again. Especially as she has already send you 500 dollar. What have you done with that money anyway? Did most of it get spend on your electric bill? If so, how huge was it? And did you fail to pay rent for a couple of months now that even your landlord is having enough? I ask the later in part because I genuinely do not know how fast a landlord can vacate you in the US. See, where I live you can get vacated too when you don’t pay up, but most landlords are by law forced to at least let you stay for a few more weeks till you either find a way to pay up or another place to live. Forceful removal of a tenant can mostly only happen if the person causes severe damage to the apartment or is facing criminal charges.

 So NOW you are looking for a job. Good luck getting 700 dollars in three days though. I can’t imagine that even if you get hired, that anyone will pay up that amount of money upfront to help you. Again, do you have no other options, Kevin? Also, for how long was that sign up there? How often have you gone by that diner? Also dear lord, the waitress really is not the smartest if she thinks being a webcomic artist pays all the bills

 So if the manager has already found someone, even if it was “just” now, why was the “now hiring” sign even still in the window? And he assumes there are even more bills? Kevin… do you have a genuine problem when it comes to handling finances? Would you do better, if you only get an allowance? Just one more page. And with it my biggest complains

And so our comic ends with all the build up of how down on his luck Kevin is, being essentially pointless, because at the end of the day he is still lucky and all his problems get resolved not by his own doing but by deus ex machina.

Okay, this is not entirely accurate.

After all, Kevin DID create this comic. He wrote it, he drew it, he send the script to multiple publishers, he got rejected multiple times and now he is also going to finally get recognition for it all. You can say he worked to get his foot into the industry. The problem is, that none of that work is really shown in the story presented to us. We do not see him work on the script, potentially rewrite or fix up mistakes, get the impression that even with the bad situation he is in, he still wants at the very least this passion project to succeed. All we know is he worked on something and now because it is convenient for the story, his misfortune is going to end and he gets a happy end that is way too convenient for my taste.

Look, I know nothing about how publishers work. If someone reads this and has genuine experience in how publishers approach you if they are interested in your work and how much money you can really make through it, you are free to tell me what you know or have experienced directly or indirectly. Cause frankly, I find it hard to believe that any publisher would immediately do the thing Kevin now experiences here. First off, why would they not attempt to call him or get into a more convenient contact with him than the mail? Second, advanced payment? Shouldn’t you at least try to handle out basic deals before you send him a paycheck over?

I get it is supposed to be a happy end for Kevin here, but honestly, with the way how even if people are getting published, success may not be immediate or not to a degree Dobson actually hopes for. Sorry, but I am also just jaded enough as a person to know that even otherwise acclaimed work does take time to really hit a certain level of popularity. Luke Pearson e.g., wrote and drew the first volume of the comic series Hilda in 2010, just a few months after he finished college. The comic was a success and resulted in him publishing up to four more books till 2016. But only with his comic being adapted into a Netflix series in 2018 did he also get recognition outside of Great Britain, from which he is likely going to make enough money to have a comfortable life for the next couple of years. Mind you, I said comfortable, not “luxurious”. Cause this is actually one thing I fear with Dobson to a degree: That he thinks that being a successful comic creator equals also becoming stinking rich. Cause as far as I know, this is not really the case for many comic creators around the world. But I digress.

This post is not about the potential delusions of Dobson when it comes to how much of a fortune he could make through a successful publication, this post is about judging a SYAC story that got never published.

And frankly, the story of Kevin James… I don’t hate it. Honestly, I think there is potential for a decent, even longer story about a webcomic artist trying to get his big break. The problem is, this is not a story about the challenges Kevin faces in creating his comic. This is not the story about someone being determined to get his work out, even if he struggles in real life. This is not the story of someone facing and dealing with his real life struggles in a mature way, making the happy end all the more feel rightfully earned. This is a story where honestly there would be no drama at all (or at least less drama), if Kevin even attempted to do something halfway logical most other people in real life would do, if they found themselves in his situation (like looking for a job, trying to work commissions etc.) . And a drama where the dramatic event would not happen if some basic logic even a kid can think off would be applied, is at least for me not really a drama.

So yeah, it is not the worst thing by Dobson, but it is very flawed to say the least.

#so you are a cartoonist #syac #andrew dobson #storytime #comic review #webcomics #comics #multi page #criticism

[babysprouseisart]

I dont think Cole has a good group of friends in LA. Most are wannabe models, influencers, actors none of whom are friends with him sincerely for him unlike Dylan in NY who has a more grounded set of friends. Friends who have & continues to be there for him through his life. Which is sad really cause I dont think his LA gang are good influence on Cole. Most still want to live that party & fancy lifestyle. Its no wonder SH are done. She wants to settle down and he still wants that party life.

Ladies and gentlemen, here is a perfect example of hypocrisy and cynicism in the direction of Cole.

Well, this time the Troll at least wrote everything grammatically correct and acting in a certain sequence, speaking everything succinctly and completely. I will note in advance, if you were the one who sent me 2 times, I decided to combine it because there is one and the same idea. So let the debate begin.

So, my dear Troll, you are right about the fact that many models, influencers and actors are mainly based in LA. However, there are other major cities where there are just as many. This is due to the fact that large points of marketing and business are also based there.

Further, you're wrong that Cole doesn't have a good group of friends in LA. He has quite a decent group of friends, including Nic Mercado, with whom he spends time there from time to time. And they are actually sincere to him.

Also, your juxtaposition of these friends with Dylan's friends in NY is delusional, since Dylan's friends are Cole's friends too (and by the way Cole's friends in LA are also friends or acquaintances of Dylan's), so he has a lot of real friends in NY too, maybe even more than in LA. He has his very close people there, just like Dylan, ready to be with him for better or for worse, with whom he went through fire, ice, and copper pipes. Friends like Duan, Craig, Jai, Gianna and others.

But this does not mean that he does not have good friends in LA, as I have already noted on the contrary - he does. He is a famous person, naturally, he has many connections in different parts of the US or even the whole world. Just because you're not really attracted to people who were at that alleged party or walk where Cole was present doesn't mean they're all shitty personalities and bad influencers. Moreover, adding to this, Cole is an adult and decides where and with whom to hang out, regardless of gender stereotypes, age or lifestyle. He is especially very smart, respectively, can stand up for himself if anything, and is able to properly organize the circle of his communication. As much as I don't like certain people, I don't know a damn thing about them, so I'm not going to blame them for anything, much less slander Cole. This is what I can tell you about his group of friends and his entourage, stop speculating about it and blame Cole for this choice.  

Moving on, given all that I've said, you're fucking wrong about Cole and Lili being done. Two people who have been together for clearly about 4 years +/- and have been hanging out with someone else from time to time before don't break up over this kind of stuff. No, they are not separated now for what we know. They were, by the way, but quite probably for another reason. Not because of each other's surroundings. For as long as I can remember, they have always accepted each other's surroundings and each other's friends.

It's absurd to say that Cole doesn't want to settle down, and Lili is so clean and fluffy and ready for it. We don't know them personally, we don't know who they are or what they are ready for. We are just observers and what I can tell you is that Cole is not a flighty boy of 16, he is a grown man and can make serious decisions. Those with whom he communicates does not say that he likes to party and does not define his personality. He can communicate with anyone, anywhere, just by maintaining a working relationship with people and maintaining sobriety of mind. And even if sometimes he, like any person, wants to relax, it does not mean that he is a cheater, and even more so does not mean that he is an alcoholic and a parasite. He's obviously great guy, with his head on his shoulders. Being near lesbians or any kinds of human and those who want to hang out he does not become one of them. And even more so, how can you say that he was with those who are bad people? Again, we don't know them. They may lead different lifestyles, they may be seen at parties, someone may spread rumors about them, but in reality they will turn out to be ordinary housewives and the best sisters or brothers. I exaggerate of course, but so that you understand.

I have a lot of respect for Cole and Lili and their life decisions. They deserve to be treated well because they haven't done anything wrong at the moment and even if there was something between them it's just their business. We don't have the right to decide for them who suits them and who doesn't. We can't speculate on their lives and claim that they don't spend time with each other, although the opposite is true. We are not in a position to forbid Cole to be away from her for a couple of meters and be with other people besides her, and not be tied to her. He is a living person, not a thing. She doesn't own him. And he doesn't own her. They are two adults and individuals and they are definitely two loving hearts and will always appreciate and put the other in priority, but this does not mean that they can not spend time with their friends or acquaintances. One thing is should be clear to you, if you have a brain, that they are working on things and moving in a positive direction given their happy state, all hints and circumstances and not taking into account these damn meetings with other people. People, wake up, celebrities are the same as you and they also need to communicate with different people and they have the right to do so, even with whom and where also their decision.

I am very sorry to those who will read this, that I have described so much, I just don't know how to explain it briefly. I hope I got through to you, anonymous. And please, in the future, do not send me any question with some hint of hatred for Cole, I do not welcome this in my blog. In my blog, I am a great support for him and Lili, and no matter how you try to twist it, I will still count that you are wrong. Before writing here, make sure that your theory makes sense, although it probably makes sense, but definitely not to me.

Topic is closed, thank you.

#troll ask #cole sprouse #ny crew #la crew

[kigozula]

GladiatorWeek2

Day 1: Favorite Characters

1. AZULA - Crown Princess Azula

"...all I ever wanted

was to grow up to be like you."

Azula is and was always my favorite character in ATLA as well as in fanfics. Should be crystal clear already=). She is even higher than the first place.

Something I really enjoy reading in Gladiator is, that she brings up people's failures and throws it in an elegantly way straight into their faces, such as with Iroh and Zhao.=D And of course when she brings up embarrassing stuff Sokka said or did in his most defensless moments. How she thinks of herself shamless when she is with him sometimes and how much she loves him. So much that she even considered leaving her Nation in case her dad finds out.

I felt very bad for her throughout the whole part 1. When her heart was broken, when she got strong but then her Gladiator destroyed that with one kiss, when she longed to be with the man she loves but her circumstances would never allow it and what made me cry was her Flashback. How she ran away from her mother, how her cousin loved her but could never fullfill his promise and how her father didn't hug her when she cried*_*. This girl makes me emotional. And I adore her strength despite everything. That she still has an ear to listen, like her first discussion with Sokka.

She may have never endured what Slaves endured, but her emotional struggles given her with her status as Crown Princess is hard. Her nation on one side, her lover on the other. Her father on one side, but the innocence suffering people on the other. Some days I just wish she would ally with her uncle, the White Lotus and the Water Tribes... but then I think that be would not a solution right now.

Her relationship with her guards and friends is well portrayed.

2. Rui Shi & Royal Guards

It was true that he was meant to give his life for her if need be, but surely he had always imagined himself dying for her in a battlefield, or saving her life from assassins… dying because of Azula's clandestine relationship surely was the most shameful and least honorable possibility of all. 

"We did adjust to being the Princess's guards quickly enough, after all" "

Rui Shi is AMAZING!! He is a very very good character, very handsome and I just love him. Although Gladiator is about Azula & Sokka, I cannot imagine the story without this precious guy. His personality, his true love for Song, his dedication to his Job and most of all: his loyality and his relationship with his Princess Azula. I just can't forget his "I could have lost my Princess" quote=D.

At the beginning I liked their little discussions when Azula didn't want to be protected and he complained all the time that she doesn't let him do his job. Over 100 chapters later he brings two unknown people to her at ease saying "...you'd surely be able to kill them first" in case they try to harm her. Yeah poor guy gave up and got tired.=D The way he protects her (wants to) from everything that could hurt her and he is not only dedicated because it his job, he shows also emotional attachment towards her. And this is something I love about him.

The panic he had in the Attack of the White Lotus arc was gold, really.

His talk when they were becoming Imperial Guards and he didn't obey and attacked Azula was one of my favorites.

As for the other Guards. Similar to Rui Shi, they are not always strict and just do their Job all the time, but also joke around and seem to really like Azula, as the Story progresses. They are very good characters. Of course this is also because of Azula herself. And she seems to like them too and their relationship is just so wonderful.

As for my favorite Guards, well other than Rui Shi I definetely choose Fei Li. His energy is so well written. He also looks handsome. Taro and Tai Wei are the most famous ones out of the rest I'd say. So I like really all of them.

3. Sokka

"You're my top priority,

and you always will be."

Sokka, well Sokka is kinda different. I can say surely that Azula and Rui Shi are my favorites all along the Story, but not for Sokka. My favorite Sokka is in the Introduction Arc and then in Part 2. Though, also at the end of Part 1.

This boy has some moments where I just like to throw a chair straight into his face... really, I am not denying it. Sometimes I really "hate" him. And when I take time and think, many of those moments are in Part 1. Especially when he didn't kiss Azula and slept next to her when she needed it*_*. But then in other moments he has these cute charming sides and broken moments what makes me love him.

Because with Part 2, he kinda becomes a different guy. I mean of course he had a horrible life and considering that he still made quick process, but still. With the start of Part 2, he becomes a better man maybe??

What I liked about him in the beginning was his whole attitude and conversations with Azula. In Part 2 I like it how he is sure what he wants and needs. And this has most likely something to do with them finally giving in. He loves Azula so beautifully, that I find the most amazing. She is his priority and always in his thoughts. Of course it is also great how he wants to help people altogether. But his special feelings and need of protecting for his most important people like Azula and his family is most amazing so far. I like him waaayyyyyy more in Part 2 I think.

4. Zuko

"I came back after ten years at sea and there

was no hugging involved whatsoever."

Zuko is good in your story. I mean many people know how I felt about him in canon...(tbh, I do not even want to think about it right now-_-). But so far he is pretty good. He has a hard life too. Ten years at sea, no parents, bad relationship with his sister and lost hopes...

When he met Mai... I think it was one of the saddest and emotional moments. But he still gets over it, although it must be very hard to see the person you love like that upon returning. The moment he thinks everything is okay, he lands in the South Pole, finds out his is going to be father, meets his life goal and has to spent a long time away from his "wife" as a prisoner. But I hope he will be happy. I have no idea what is coming for him in the future to be honest. Let's see it.

What I love the most is when HE started making steps towards fixing his relationship with his sister.💙 This is something I always wanted and I hope it will get better.

Zuko especially is very good in Gladiator and Bryke should see how character development really works!!

5. Seyary, you are really amazing with writing the side characters from ATLA and your wonderful OC's. Reaaalllyyyyy.

No particular order

I think maybe I should put Song also next to Rui Shi on the 2nd place?? This girl is so cute but also very ... I cannot find the right word, but I love her feelings about Sokkla. She also seems like a shipper to me?? Fighting on her own ways for their relationship. Song is very important.

I like Mai and Ty Lee, but Mai more. Her unexpected comments are bomb.

Okay, Haru and Ruon Jian are good too although we didn't see much of Ruon Jian=D. I wonder if he is still in touch with Chan??

Jet

I like Jet in canon and was happy that we saw more of him here. His interaction with Azula was very amusing and interesting, since he is one of those character I always wanted an Azula interaction with.

General Tiang

I am very curious about what way this guy will go. He seems to be more like an "Azula-Fan" but I might be wrong. His Story is such a good idea, I liked it. His wife and his nice personality make him very likable. And when that unexpected talk came with Iroh... it surprised me because I never thought he was Lu Ten's friend. A touching idea. We didn't see much of him but I like him. Everyone who cares about and respects Azula is sympathetic to me.

Zhao and Ozai ... ahhh these two. I think it is clear that I reaaallyyy like interactions with them together with Azula. They are just very cool... though in the Slave Riot Arc they kinda turn out not so cool. I would say I think Ozai is 50/50. He also has some nice moments, but then he acts pretty shitty. But then he tries to be better than his own father and listens to Azula and tries to support her. As for Zhao, he is in my Top 5 favorite characters list definetely. But Ozai too somehow... The fifth maybe?? (Tbh, the order from 3rd - 5th is very difficult). I totally like how Seyary portrays him. He helps Azula, is polite to Sokka as well as to Toph, has a daughter he seems to care for, a very interesting portrayal of his character. I like it when he is next to Azula and actually helps and respects her as well as her Partnership with her Gladiator. But then he hides that Spirit Oasis Information from his best friend and his daughter... I guess I still like him except that Slave Riot chapter... let's also see here what he is up to in the future... Again, I would love it if he allies with Azula in the future and also wants to make the world a better place, but I am not sure about him. I am sure about Ozai, but not with him.

Lu Ten

"I'll miss you too,

my wonderful dragon lady."

Okay, I love Lu Ten. My favorite part to read are those flasbacks with Azula and him that produced tears in my eyes. All those flasbacks. I just thought he deserves to be on my list. He loved Azula and he was very important for her too. Lu Ten's parts are beautiful and sad. And I love that combination.

#GladiatorWeek2 #azula #rui shi #zuko #lu ten #sokka

[oliverparkers]

[   aron piper, questioning, he/him   ] ⁠— * oh, here comes OLIVER “OLLIE” PARKER ! the twenty one year old scorpio is often referred to as the insurgent. people say they have a tendency to be reactionary and stubborn, but from what i’ve seen, they can be empathetic and loyal too. when they walk by, you’ll probably hear rock ’n’ roll high school by the ramones playing out of their headphones, but they’re also associated with the faint smell of cigarette smoke, bruised knuckles, and staying up too late listening to loud music. i hear they’re  waiter at the roller derby diner & want to become a musician when they’re older, but who knows what will become of ‘em !

Born to a musician father, and a mother who left when he was still a baby, Ollie spent the beginning of his childhood backstage at shows, or on tour with his dad. The backseat of his father’s van was anything he could imagine it to be - a stage, a cliff above boiling lava, a space ship. The tour life perhaps wasn’t what one might imagine as the ideal situation for a child growing up, but it was what Ollie knew, and where he was comfortable.

When he was seven years old, however, his grandfather stepped in, saying that what Ollie really needed was stability, and he was never going to get with a father who lived that sort of lifestyle. After that, Ollie moved into the spare bedroom in his grandfathers house, though when his dad was in town, between shows, sometimes he would go and stay at his apartment.

Ollie never got along with his grandfather - The old man was always a hard ass, and probably wasn’t the exact right person to be raising a child, after his own was already grown and out of the house. Especially a kid like Ollie, who had always been somewhat of a trouble maker. 

Throughout school, he was constantly on the brink of expulsion. Sometimes he’ll claim that he had the record for the most detentions, although there’s no proof of that (though it isn’t unbelievable).

More than one person was convinced that Ollie wouldn’t graduate at all, and the only reason he did in the end was because of summer school (and probably help with homework from some of his friends). He’s also probably been held back at least once.

He’s been working at the Roller Derby Diner as a waiter now for a couple years now, and he’s trying to save up to move out of his grandfathers house (except he usually ends up spending money on weed instead). It’s a bit of a wonder he hasn’t gotten fired yet. 

He (mostly) loves all his friends and would do anything for them, anything which usually ends up being punching anyone who messes with them.

Yo Ruthie - 

so summer school fucking blows. and I do promise, actually, I swear, on my guitar, all my tapes, and the car that I’m definitely gonna get eventually - that I will be at the lake this weekend, because pissing off my grandpa is a sacrifice I’m willing to make. for friendship. and yes, I am pretending that I’m working on English homework right now, and no, I don’t want to hear any criticism from anyone about how I’m not going to graduate. who cares if I don’t graduate anyway? I’ll just start a band and become a famous rockstar instead. I don’t even really want any of the shitty futures that adults try to tell you about, or convince you that you need to have. Especially the adults who used to be cool, or at least who think they used to be. If I ever end up working in an office, wearing a suit, and eating the same thing for lunch every single day, I’m going to need someone to kill me. Is that a responsibility you’re willing to take on?

Do you ever think about what Lucky was probably like, when he was our age? I highly doubt that he was anything short of fucking kick ass, because I don’t know, how could you be a total square and then turn out like that? Unlikely. I’ve decided that I’m gonna ask him for a job, actually, and I bet anything I’ll get it. Grandpa was just lecturing me this morning about the ‘value of hard work’ this morning and something about pulling myself up by the bootstraps and not ending up like my dad. But honest? I wouldn’t even mind ending up like my dad. He always brings me cool shit when he comes to visit, and last week he sent me a postcard. From Canada. We should all drive up to Canada, when I get my car - I’m thinking it would be cool to have a van. Also I saw one with a for sale sign the other day, so if I get the job at the diner, I bet I could save up pretty quick and buy it. Or try to convince grandpa that I NEED a car and I’m maturing and being responsible and shit. I think he’d buy that, if I got a job, right? And if I got Olivia or Delilah or someone to help with the convincing - He likes them. I mean, I’m pretty sure he likes all my friends more than he likes me, but also I think he’s probably pretty fucking biased. Whatever.

ANYWAY, LLOYD LAKE THIS WEEKEND, I PROMISE, I’LL BRING WEED. I’ve been saving it for the next time we all get together, which I hope you deeply appreciate. Because I’ve basically been bored out of my fucking mind up here.

x ollie

also here is his pinterest!!!

#intro #// the letter wasn't originally to ruth when i wrote it but #after plotting decided that would probably be who it was to #about ollie

[mautadite]

may book round up

24 books this month, a pretty good stack. even though i’m working from home i keep expecting work to swamp me and leave me with no reading time but... that hasn’t happened yet? so, good.

silver moon - catherine lundoff ⭐️⭐️⭐️ a paranormal novel about a small town in which certain women who reach the age of menopause find another change happening to their bodies. i.e. they become werewolves. i fucking adored this concept and there was f/f romance, but the execution and the writing was sadly pretty boring.

no-no boy - john okada ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ post-wwii, following a young japanese american man who was just released from prison. called a no-no boy because like all other japanese men at the time, he was asked two questions: will you serve in the armed forces and swear loyalty to the us? he answered no to both questions and was detained. the novel follows him grappling with that decision after the war, looks into his friends, family life, race relations, and what it’s like living in a country that despises you. enjoyed it a lot.

the husband gambit - l.a. witt ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the kind of tropey romance nonsense that i live for. contemporary m/m slow burn fake marriage between a struggling actor, and the son of a famous hollywood producer. there were some meh parts (like, the plotting and the reasoning behind why they had to get fake married was like... are you SURE marriage is the best way to fix this) but i really liked it for the romance and the tropes.

drive your plow over the bones of the dead - olga tocarczuk ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ contemporary polish mystery fiction, following an old woman living in a secluded community in the woods, when poachers and prominent hunters begin turning up dead. really interesting writing and format, and a really excellent protagonist. not sure how much i liked the actual mystery.

the babysitter - jack harbon ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ quick and dirty m/m romance, a literature-loving babysitter falls for the divorced father of the kid he babysits. pretty fun.

zipper mouth - laurie weeks ⭐️⭐️⭐️ contemporary fiction that follows a queer, mentally ill woman as she hurdles through life, unrequited love, jobs, and lots of drugs. i enjoyed the themes when there was a coherent one, but i really didn’t gel with the style. i guess it was trying to be stream of consciousness, which i have read and enjoyed in the past. but this didn’t do it for me. interesting tho, and honestly, i just might not have been the audience for it.

spirits abroad - zen cho ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ a PHENOMENAL collection of stories drawing inspiration from malaysian spirits, culture and folklore. absolutely loved it, fave read of the month for sure. loved the use of language and dialect, and the writing was simple and precise and wonderful. and there were some great f/f stories in here. 

a cat, a man and two women - junichiro tanizaki ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the setting: 1920s japan. the characters: lily, a fat tortoiseshell. shozo, her lazy, well-meaning, but ineffectual cat-dad. fukuko, his hot young former mistress, current wife. shinako, his strong-willed, slightly bitter ex-wife. the plot: shinako decides, HEY ACTUALLY FUCK YOU KEEP YOUR HOT WIFE BUT I WANT THE CAT. a great novella about loneliness and comeuppance and marriage. the best part was the cat lol.

the terracotta bride - zen cho ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ really interesting novella about a young dead woman living in chinese hell. she’s married, and her husband has three wives. the first: estranged, conniving, distant. the second: herself, unwilling but resigned. the third: newly arrived, and made out of terracotta. very interesting novella, beautifully written, grim but hopeful, f/f romance on the side.

king and the dragonflies - kacen callender ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ wonderful queer children/YA book about family, grief, racism, coming to know yourself and also accepting yourself. contemporary, but it almost FEELS like a fantasy/magical realism book. 

orphan number eight - kim alkemade ⭐️⭐️⭐️ a novel about an orphaned woman coming to terms with experiments done on her as a child, when she encounters the doctor who performed said experiments, dying in a nursing home. the writing in this was pretty so-so, did a lot of head-hopping which is my biggest pet peeve. i liked the concept, but the plot and the follow through were meh. loved that the main character was a lesbian though, and some of the writing was great.

firm hand - nora phoenix ⭐️⭐️ meh... not for me. m/m contemporary romance following a guy recovering from the car crash that killed his best friend, and his best friend’s son. it went some places that i’m just not up for, lol.

meet cute club - jack harbon ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ REALLY adorable m/m romance, following a dorky, earnest romance novel lover, and the new cashier at his favourite book store. they end up trying to revive the main characters struggling book club, and falling in love along the way. very fun and sweet.

mrs. mix up - candice harper ⭐️⭐️ the concept sounded so so cute: an f/f romance about two librarians with similar last names that go to a library convention and the staff mistakenly thinks they’re married and book them into one room. but the writing and chemistry were lacklustre and it was extremely poorly edited. it’s a shame, i could have liked this.

mine - kim hartfield ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ a sexy f/f romance that i liked a LOT, about a young woman who after a traumatic event in her life decides to quit her job and go volunteer on a farm in the middle of nowhere. she ends up falling for her sexy lesbian farmer boss. it got deep in some areas i wasn’t really expecting it to, though it was a tad... idk, preachy? and the conflict at the end was annoying. enjoyed it a bunch tho.

the hobbit - j.r.r. tolkien ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ nth reread! i’ve been listening to this on audiobook around bedtime since like... march, i think, it’s just such a comfort read for me.

the knight and the necromancer 1-3 - a.h. lee ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ a very solidly good fantasy m/m romance series, about a young prince and a necromancer in a war against an invading sorcerer. sorta enemies to lovers? the three books span their relationship and the war, and though it was only a few weeks in time, it didn’t feel insta-lovey at all. liked it a lot.

the fake game - kim hartfield ⭐️⭐️⭐️ contemporary f/f fake dating office romance! pretty cute; didn’t blow me away but i solidly liked most of it.

what the wind knows - amy harbon ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ historical time travel romance centred around the aftermath of the ireland easter rising. i spend so much time reading solidly gay stuff that it’s so weird reading things where the existence of queer ppl isn’t even acknowledged lol. anyway this was pretty good, i liked it mostly for the historical facts and aspects, but the romance was pretty touching too.

the golem of mala lubovnya - kim fielding ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ LOVELY m/m romance in a small jewish community between a newly created golem and a stonemason. lovely writing and atmosphere and characters. i had my nitpicks with the resolution but holy heck i’m so happy with this.

the electric heir - victoria lee ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the second part of a queer YA duo-logy that i started earlier this year, set in a future dystopian magic-riddled US, dealing with abuse and trauma and survivors. extremely difficult to read, almost unenjoyable at times (because god these kids go through so much) but very very good.

first everything - kim hartfield ⭐️⭐️ aha, possibly my last try with this author, though i liked the first book i read by her so much i might read one more! f/f romance between a journalist and a fictional first daughter (who’s also like, a domme, lol). the plot was fine but a lot of the character stuff and the shitty parent stuff really bothered me.

and that was may! for june i’ll... read lots of queer stuff, but i mean i do that every month. i also want to try to read less romance, more thriller and historical and just general contemporary? i feel like i say that all the time, but i’ll try. (though i did just get my first ever advanced reader copy from netgalley and it’s f/f romance, so... exciting!) currently reading the 7 deaths and evelyn hardcastle, a thriller. pretty okay so far.

#book talk #long post