#i don't know what this would count as lol

[cherryblossom-enthusiast]

Retribution (The Kidxf!Reader) - Monkey Man

A/N: I said I was writing it and it has been done lol If you haven’t watched this film yet, please do! I indulged and wrote a small fic about it lol (Don't mind the abyssmal pacing of this, I barely edited and added anything) I hope you all enjoy it and can someone please indulge me more by writing more fics about this man!? Dev Patel absolutely killed it! Put him in a rom-com! I tried to write the hijra with as much care as possible. Please let me know if there’s something I can be more educated on in terms of this!

Synopsis: A mysterious man arrives at the temple you call home and makes quite an impression.

Warnings/ Tags: Angst. Fluff. Allusions to sex work. Descriptions of violence and blood. Coarse language. Kissing.

Word Count: 3.2K

Masterlist

The cheers of those around you interrupt the hanging of your laundry.

Peeking through the shoulders and the shadows, you sneak a glance at the subject of commotion, and it doesn’t surprise you.

The way he moves is equal parts graceful and aggressive. His punches are meticulously messy, a choreographed war drum thrumming to the beat of his own heart. This man is far removed from who you remember gazing upon a few days ago. His eyes were lost, sunken, like a child looking for guidance or divine judgement for all that’s led him to this point.

This was not that man.

This man was vengeance personified.

And through him, you felt hope.

You knew nothing about him. Alpha was able to garner all of your help, quietly and quickly instructing to pull the man out of the river. You were there when they cauterized his wounds. His screams were pure agony, making you cringe, and somehow you felt that his pain went deeper than physicality.

He walked like a ghost when he first came, aimlessly walking, like trying to just bump into something that would give him an answer.

Now, it seems he walks with purpose.

He throws his last punch and receives a mighty applause. The crowd recognizes the show’s over for the time being and they disperse as he keeps heaving, staring at the bag like he wants to hit it more. Like he never wants to stop.

You pick up a basket and walk over to him. Whether to strike up a proper conversation or feeling annoyed at the dirtied shirt on the ground you had just washed, you don’t exactly know. But something about him is magnetic, pulling you in, just like the first time you saw him that night, all bloody and bruised.

You nod at his white shirt. “I’ll take that.”

He breaks from his spell and turns to look at you.

His heaving slows, his breaths getting deeper by the second. For what you think is a few minutes, he just stares are you, and you at him, both of you taking each other in. You realize his physique really is something to awe over, but more importantly, that his eyes are far gentler than what you thought possible.

You tilt your head. “The shirt?”

He bends and picks up the white cloth, simply extending it to you as he continues to stare. You gesture for him to drop it into the basket. With an amused scoff, you start to turn away. “I’d appreciate it if you hung the next shirt you tore off on a wall.”

“Your name?”

His voice surprises you. You’ve only heard him speak a few times before. He sounds rough, and scratchy, like he doesn’t use his voice often.

You introduce yourself and after a few moments, he repeats your name back to you. Slowly, quietly, as if he’s scared of offending you in any way. Listening to it fall from his lips is like listening to dripping honey and you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make heat crawl up your neck.

To save face, you again start to walk away from him. “Widen your stance.” You advise, not waiting to hear a reply.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Several days pass until you have another full conversation.

You’re caught up with mundane chores. He’s caught up with punching that bag and doing god knows what else when he’s not at the temple.

Though there was that one time you almost slip and he catches you effortlessly by the waist and it definitely made your stomach flutter.

You smile the first time you depart to wash laundry and see his shirt hanging over a nearby wall.

He’s getting better. His posture looks strong, immovable. Sometimes you think with all that’s happened to him, that he must be invincible. Surely, no one can lose that much blood and still maintain their sanity.

But then you see his movements wain by the end of his exercise and it’s like something powerful overcomes him as he loses all finesse and he punches that rice-filled bag for all its worth with no rhyme or reason. You sense his frustration as he suddenly stops and puts his hand on his hips, breathing erratically.

You approach him cautiously. Pulling out a bottle of water from your laundry basket, you offer it to him. “Consider taking a break?”

He’s slow to take the bottle from you but he does so anyway. After almost draining the whole thing, he splashes the rest of the water over his head. Only as he shakes the droplets off his curly locks does he try to return it to you.

“An actual break.” You reiterate, stuffing the bottle of water back into your basket. “Your drummer needs one too. He might have built up his callouses, but he should eat something.”

The man turns to look where your eyes are directed and though you don’t have a clear view of his face, you can tell from the way that his eyebrows ease that he feels a sense of guilt. The drummer simply raises his palm and stands. “Take some time to clear your head, I’ll be here whenever you have.” He leaves the courtyard until it’s just the two of you left.

The weather is oddly cool today. There’s smoke and a mugginess that’s expected from being close to the heart of the city, but if you were to look around, it’d almost seem like you were transported decades into the past. The temple acts like a sanctuary, shielding you all from the outside world’s noise and it does a good job.

You walk towards a small wooden bench off to the far side and take a seat. You set your basket down and pat the space next to you. “Come,” You beckon “I’d appreciate some company while I fold all of these white shirts I’ve had to add to my load.”’

Something like embarrassment flashes on his face as he follows your command and sits right next to you. His posture is stiff like he wants to make an impression. It’s obvious your newfound companion doesn’t like to talk, or more accurately, isn’t very good at starting small conversation.

“I’m sorry for the bother.”

He has a tone of bashfulness, unable to turn in your direction. Your smile widens as you continue to fold “I didn’t say it was bothersome.” You refute. “In fact, I’d rather say I don’t mind you taking your shirt off.”

You try to make direct eye contact then, but he swallows thickly and doesn’t meet your eyes. It makes you giggle, but you decide to pull back on the joke, not wanting him to take offence or cause him more uneasiness. “Besides, each shirt is a testament to how much work you’ve put into bettering your skills here.”

That gets him to scoff and drop his head in disbelief “I’m still not where I need to be.”

“No,” you reply earnestly “but you will be.”

This earns you another bout of silence.

 For a while, you both just enjoy each other’s quiet company. He stares blankly ahead and you give him the time to examine whatever it is he’s battling through in his own thoughts.

Eventually, he sighs and inclines his head towards the sky. “How long have you lived here?”

“Ever since I could remember.”  You answer honestly. “Alpha says they opened the door and there I was, miraculously alive, left laying on a dirty blanket.”

“You’ve been here ever since?” He carefully asks.

“I’ve never lived anywhere else if that’s what you’re asking.” You pass an unfolded shirt to him and to your surprise he starts to fold it with no question. Bitter memories start to glaze your view. “And for someone as uneducated as me, there’s only a few jobs out there that I’d be considered for as a woman.”

A knowing silence passes through you both at the statement. Yatana was unforgiving. A real dog-eat-dog society with no time or need for those who couldn’t stomach it or keep up. Truth be told, most of the time you couldn’t. Very often would a prostitute or child be pounding on your doors for help or asylum. Hungry, beaten, thrown away like a speck of dust not worth anyone’s time.

“Doesn’t it make you angry?”

You’re unphased by the question. “Of course it does.”

And you mean it. There are days when you scream at the sky or dunk your head slightly longer underwater to try and get away from it all, try to release it in some way.

Eyes still trained to the sky; he confesses “Because that’s all I feel. Anger and pain, and I can’t-“ he struggles to finish his words. “I can’t-‘

“I know.”

That makes him look back down and finally turn in your direction. He patiently expects you to explain.

 You swallow thickly but continue to talk anyway. “To feel helpless, like you can’t do anything no matter how hard you try.” Gritting your teeth, you realize your hands have stopped folding. “But it doesn’t matter, because there are people who need me more strongly than the pain I feel.”

He considers your words thoughtfully and waits for you to speak once more. “Amidst all this chaos, this temple stands. People need me here. Children, mothers, the beautiful hijra who gave me a home, and when they leave this place with the tiniest glimpse of hope on their faces, then I know I’ve done my job. I don’t fight as well as the hijra here, I don’t expect to get much better, but I want them to know that they have refuge with me.”

You pass him an unfolded sari and for the rest of the time you are sitting together, you both fold quietly, basking in the sun and each other’s presence.

He continues to train harder after that. Each step is quick, each punch as sharp as a bullet. When he isn’t training, he’s watching. The news, the protests, the speeches, like he’s reassuring himself, learning the best way to approach.

 It’s obvious everyone here, including you is taken with this stranger. Though, you don’t really know if you could even call him that anymore.

It’s like he seeks you out. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply sitting together for dinner or him deliberately waiting for you to walk through the courtyard with your basket under your arm. Both of your eyes are trained on each other with an eager sheen.

Maybe it’s fear or maybe it's an understanding that your pairing would most likely never work out in the end. Either way, whatever it is, it disappoints you because you so badly want to believe he wants you the same way.

The mood becomes slightly flirtatious and you catch sight of a boyish grin here or there, especially when he’s surrounded by the hijra.

But anytime you think he might ask you something, or just when you’re on the cusp of telling him your interest, something stops you in your tracks, holding you back.

A recollection plays in your head of last night.

It’s just him and the drummer again today. You wait near a dark window before you pass so as to not to disturb his concentration.

He has a beat to the way he fights, a brutal rhythm, and it astounds you every time you watch him. If this is how he looks punching a bag, you wonder how he’d look fighting against others. You find the thought oddly attractive, and it makes you flush.

For all his skill in the ring, it seems that’s where all his artistry in footwork stops. Surrounded by laughing and beaming faces, with the sound of softer drumming in the air, everyone takes a turn dancing. No one cared about how sloppy anyone was. You sure weren’t the best dancer amongst the hijras, but this seemed unsubstantial when you were all drunk on each other’s company.

The children present that evening and you form a small circle. You’re swinging your arms around when you notice your mystery man with a smile of his own. It knocks the air out of your lungs. It’s one that gives him crinkles around his eyes and all at once he doesn’t look like a hardened killer, but someone you’d see on a billboard or a magazine cover.

You crook your finger at him, inviting him into your little dance number. He tries to politely decline, his once beaming face turning something sheepish, but Alpha bumps him shoulder to shoulder, and soon the rest of them urge and tease him to dance along. When he gets to the center begrudgingly, it’s already too late for him to back out. Two children start to pull him until he lands directly opposite of you.

The circle of your intertwined hands spins, it twirls here and there, and when you all raise your hands to shrink the circle, you land face-to-face with the most fascinating man you’ve ever seen. It lasts all of five seconds, but everything around you dims as you look at this man’s face illuminated by firelight.

His eyes are his most emotive feature and they always seem to twinkle. Right then, they almost looked like jewels from the way they glossed over.

You pick up on the way those eyes slowly dipped down towards your lips and suddenly you wonder if he’s thinking about the same things you are. If he really does want you the same way you do.

But before you can tumble into that path of thought, cheers and hoots pull you out of the little bubble of enchantment you’d created. You turn to reject the idea of it all, but when you glance back at the man in front of you, your breath catches.

He continues to stare intently at your visage, not minding or caring about the extra attention one bit.

And then a scream erupts in your ears.

Seeing him punch the bag until rice grains stick to his chest reminds you of what he’s capable of.

When he shares a nod with the drummer, you know that he’s finally achieved what he came here at the temple to do.

Dropping your basket, you immediately rush indoors, following the cries of the hijra around you. Lakshmi lays in the center of the temple room floor, blood dripping from them like a fountain. You crouch and gently put their head on your knees as the weeps continue all around you.

They explain that they put a notice on the door, Shakti’s men, and all you can see is an unbridled tint of red starting to form. Your heart is pounding, Lakshmi is struggling to fight for air, and in front of this statue, an indescribable wave of pain crashes into you.

It’s loud, far too loud. With your thoughts, the cries, the blood staining your shirt.

Your one hand on the floor clenches into a fist. You try to remind yourself that you can be better, that there must be something more to all of this than just pray, than to just keep taking what they serve like impotent little ants. The hopelessness starts to creep in, slowly etching itself into your thoughts.

But before it can take hold, you distinguish a face in the shadows. It’s observing as everything around you starts to crumble and in that moment you try to push all that anger onto him as you directly glare into his soul.

And when you see him break open the donation box much later during the humid night, you know you’ve put your faith into the right person.

He tries to leave as silently as he came, but you meet him at the entrance. He holds a crude, dirty children’s bag and you can only assume that’s where he’s keeping the money.

He tries to explain, but you start to approach him which stops his needless rambling. In an act of boldness, you grab his hand in yours and flip it to look clearly at his scars. If he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Alpha was right.” You agree. “You do have the hands of a warrior”

You enclose his hand between yours, putting it up against your lips. “I wonder how such gentle hands fight with such ferocity.”

He starts to twitch and as you loosen your grip, expecting him to pull back, he instead cups the side of your face and despite his scarred calloused hands, his touch is pure velvet. His thumb brushes the tears you didn’t notice were starting to fall freely down your cheek.

Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.

“Fight for me.” You croak thickly. “Fight for all of us.”

He clenches his jaw. “I promise you.”

You pull him towards you by grasping his neck and your lips meet in the middle. The kiss is like him. Equal parts sweet as it is harsh. His lips were warm and soft, but the urgency in the way you both kissed each other was anything but. You bury your hand into his hair and feel his curls unmake themselves even further. His smell of soap and sage infiltrates your senses.

It was a dizzying feeling. It’s what you felt while you were dancing exploded ten-fold. It was the culmination of tension and grief exploding into something technicolour. As your noses bump against each other, you think you want to draw more of this kindness from this man.

Your breathing quickens and he groans into your mouth. It’s almost like you two are fighting. With each other, against each other, for each other. Exploring this hungry need has only made you more insatiable.  

And that becomes particularly dangerous, especially when you know he has a job to do.

Reluctantly you pull back. His eyes stay closed and you press your foreheads together, listening to the crackles of the torches around you. “Your emotions are strong.” You quietly whisper. “But do not let them control you. Let them guide you.”

He blinks his eyes open, full of clarity.

Letting each other go hesitantly, you take one last look at him and he at you. “Come back to me,” you say with all the confidence you can muster.

You can tell you’re both skeptical about your claim, but he nods his head anyway. He walks around you and you don’t turn to look at him leave for fear of wanting to hold him back. You hear the creak of the door, but before he can take another step away from you, you mumble “Give them Hell.”

There’s a slight pause before you start to hear the crunching of the ground beneath him, each step lighter than the last until you can no longer hear him creeping into the night.

Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.

- - - - - -

When you see the money-filled bag hanging on the statue the next day, it’s attached with a note.

His presence overflows through your every pore.

Alpha looks at you with a determined expression on their face, as do the other hijra around them.

It seems they don’t just want repayment, they want a reckoning.

They want retribution.

- - - - - -

A/N: Please let me know what you think by leaving a note, comment, or reblog! Or we can just geek out about Monkey Man lol I definitely won’t be opposed to that lol

#fanfic #x reader #smut #dev patel #fanfiction #fluff #monkey man #monkey man 2024 #monkey man spoilers #the kid #y/n #monkey man fanfiction #monkey man fanfic #the kid x reader #angst #retribution

[shuttershocky]

What do you think of Nasu basically spoiling Mahoyo 2 in FGO, even though Mahoyo 2 doesn't exist (yet)?

lol

lmao even

I will make an even better call.

He did not stop at spoiling Mahoyo 2, a VN that doesn't exist in any way, shape, or form yet. No. In fact, Nasu has gone above and beyond, also spoiling a critical new story element for the Tsukihime Remake's Red Garden, hidden inside the Mahoyo event.

Why do I say this? There's a scene in the collab event where the gang discusses the matter of reviving the dead. Aoko's little incident at the end of Mahoyo inevitably gets brought up, but Alice shuts down the notion that Aoko can revive the dead, because what Aoko does is time fraud, essentially running a scam, and therefore does not count.

If you are killed, but Aoko makes it so you don't die, she does so by taking the time you were killed and propelling it into the far future, way after you would die of old age anyway. In Mahoyo, Touko is aghast at the methodology because messing with time would absolutely incur some kind of terrible debt to the fabric of reality that will have to be paid eventually, while in FGO, Alice believes it doesn't count as reviving the dead, probably because you never died (because the time that you died is far, far sway).

What does this have to do with Tsukihime?

Now, in the original Tsukihime, Shiki was basically a dead man walking; his body was animated by Akiha's life-force / soul after saving her from an inverting SHIKI, and while it's never explained beyond "Akiha has powers no one else in her oni family has", no mage has been able to revive the dead, or keep a body that can no longer live on its own moving by making it a parasite on their own life. Others that cheat death such as Touko or Roa (or Meltryllis in FGO) move bodies instead, they cannot save a body that has been damaged beyond saving.

Only Aoko and Akiha have done that.

Now, we know due to some bad ends in the Tsukihime Remake that Shiki is still unknowingly dependent on Akiha, because she's able to control his life and even make him pass out by cutting him off (at least until he gets possessed by Roa), BUT we don't know if the accident with SHIKI was the only thing that happened in the past.

The Tsukihime Remake no longer takes place in Misaki town like the original did. This means that Shiki no longer encounters Aoko walking around her home town. She would have had to go to a hospital in Souya town, and coincidentally run into 9 year old Shiki terrified of seeing death everywhere.

I don't buy that their meeting was a coincidence anymore. I think Aoko knew he would be there.

There is now an unexplained gap between when Roa was Elesia, and when he was SHIKI. In the original timeline, Elesia would have been born around 1975 and fully overwritten by Roa when she was 16, or at 1991. If Arcueid killed her quickly, Roa would have had to find a new host fast, and the incident with SHIKI happened in 1992, 8 years before the events of Tsukihime. No gap.

But now, Arcueid defeats the possessed Elesia in 2001, and the incident with SHIKI doesn't happen until 2006 (8 years before the events of the Tsukihime Remake in 2014). There's now a 5 year gap.

Now, Nasu might just be really bad at mathing out his timeline, but based on entirely no evidence whatsoever, I'm gonna say the 5 year gap between Roa's victims is intentional.

Roa had one more victim in between Elesia and SHIKI, which would be Shiki himself, way before Shiki would gain the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception.

Roa got confused. He meant to target Tohno SHIKI, heir to the powerful Tohno family, and instead got Tohno Shiki, their child slave whose family name got replaced. Roa goes wild inside a Nanaya's body, but ends up running into Aoko (who we know due to Melty Blood Type-Lumina that she has orders from the Clock Tower to defeat and interrogate Roa), who gives him the fuck you laser and incinerates Roa in an instant. Roa gets told by Dr Arach (who is obviously a fucking vampire) that he had the wrong Shiki all this time, while Aoko uses her bullshit to restore Shiki himself.

Unlike with Ciel, whose soul is now "Roa" and thus became immortal because she cannot die while Roa is still recognized by the World as alive, Aoko's method of reviving the dead doesn't heal them of death, she just magics all that shit away.

This makes Shiki avoid the magic loophole that Ciel gets trapped in, becoming an ordinary boy again with no vampiric connection (because Aoko made the whole incident never happen).

That distinction is important, because not dying when being killed is why Shiki has the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception in the first place. He experienced death and his mind now comprehends its true nature. Aoko reviving him doesn't trigger it because like Alice says, Aoko doesn't revive the dead.

Akiha on the other hand, triggers it because Shiki was mortally wounded and his life can no longer move his body, instead relying on Akiha's life force to survive. This makes Shiki dead but functionally alive, manifesting the mystic eyes of death perception.

When Aoko heard that the little boy she unkilled somehow managed to die again just a little later only to reawaken at the hospital, she had to come and see him for herself, leading to that fateful meeting outside the hospital.

TL;DR - Mahoyo event spoils that Roa in the Remake timeline switches it up, possessing Shiki first before ever touching SHIKI, which Aoko deals with.

_____

I have zero proof about any of this by the way which is why it sounds like complete bullshit, because it is. I just saw an opportunity to post Tsukihime Remake speculation on a barely related topic and ran away with it.

BUT, consider this: I correctly predicted that in the Remake Arcueid route, Roa would see a skull staring at him when he finally realizes Shiki is "Death". I know what Nasu plans for Tsukihime, it is all revealed to me in my dreams.

#Tsukihime

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 12. Between Us

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 2879 words. Author's Note: 2 parts away to the end! I'm super excited for what is to come.

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

Dinner continued as night fell over the elegant panorama. Musicians continued to play all night long, waiters walked around the tables with trays laden with appetizers and people chatted pleasantly surrounded us. I was eating delicious food, drinking expensive champagne, and I was sitting between two super attractive men, what more could I ask for? Definitely a good night. His mother would sometimes give me uncomfortable looks, but Sukuna would scold her every time he caught her doing it. Choso would get me to talk about my plans once I stopped working for her brother. And Yuuji… I didn't want to talk to him after exposing myself like that in front of his family. I knew he was a big gossip, but I never thought he would reveal something like that to his parents. 

When dinner was over, his parents said goodbye to everyone and went back to their house. Or I rather say, mansion. I had discovered that the Itadori's owned a large coffee company that was distributed internationally. Now I understood why Sukuna was so spoiled, he has always had everything he wants from the cradle. Good thing Choso and Yuuji didn't turn out like him. 

“I think we are ready to leave, right, Choso?” Yuuji asked the middle brother before pulling him by the arm to the car. 

“Not so fast,” Sukuna said before pulling him towards him by the hoodie's cap. Yuuji replied to the sudden movement. “We already knew you were a shitty gossip, but today you went too far,” I scolded him while forcing him to stand in front of me. 

“Stop it, Sukuna!” Choso exclaimed to make me let go of his little brother. 

“Shut up! You know perfectly well that what he did is not right,” Sukuna barked. “Apologize to Y/n for what you said.” 

That action coming from Sukuna healed wounds in me that I didn't know were still there. I think it was the first time someone defended me like that. I was so used to always fighting for myself that I had forgotten how it felt to have someone come to my defense.  I don't know if he was doing it out of wanting to discipline his younger brother or to protect me, it was still comforting to see him act so concerned about the situation. I felt safe next to him even though he could act like a monster at times.

“I'm sorry for saying what Naoya did to you in front of everyone. It won't happen again,” Yuuji apologized, avoiding my gaze, ashamed of his actions. 

“You better keep your word,” I told him so. Sukuna would let him go. 

After a quiet ride home, Sukuna wished me goodnight and we both headed to our respective rooms. I took off the cute little girl costume I had put on as I recalled the intimate moment I had shared with Choso and how Sukuna kept nagging his family so he could have a quiet dinner. I sighed tiredly before lying face down on the big white bed. I shoved my face between the goose down pillows as I realized I had spent the whole night fantasizing about two different men. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” I scolded myself. 

Tonight I confirmed that my feelings for Choso were still there, but now they coexisted with the feelings I had for Sukuna, his own brother. What I was feeling was not right, but what could I do about it? I couldn't date both of them to find out whom I liked more. I couldn't play with them like they were plastic dolls. I also didn't want to make a pros and cons list, that seems tacky to me. I looked at the clock, it was 11 o'clock at night. I was sure Nobara was still awake. 

“Well, well… Finally, someone deigns to call me,” Nobara answered the video call. She had her hair up, a mask on her face and a loose-fitting sleep shirt. She was getting ready to go to sleep, he had caught her at a good time.

“I know, I've been busy,” I replied embarrassed. “But now I'm in the middle of a dilemma.” 

“Oh, finally, some tea!” Nobara replied. 

I told him everything that my heart wanted to let out for months. How tender, mysterious and attractive Choso was and how handsome, strong and disciplined Sukuna is. About how much I wanted to go out with Choso to coffee shops and art museums. About how much I wanted Sukuna to give me a clear sign that he liked me as a girlfriend and not as a hamster he had to protect from hawks. The mixture of love and confusion surprised Nobara with every sentence he blurted out. 

“I like them both, and I have no idea what to do,” I finished my confession. 

“Taylor Swift could write a song about it,” Nobara joked before pulling a cheeto out of the blue bag and eating it. “I don't understand why you're racking your brains when the answer is so obvious.” 

“Is it?” I asked confused. 

“Duh. I'm team Choso to death,” I answered. 

“Why?” 

“Do I really have to say it?” Nobara looked at me as if I was stupid. I just kept quiet. She sighed in exasperation and sat up straight to speak seriously. “Choso is the only one who likes you back, and you really like him too. Sukuna only likes you because you respect him a lot and not because you really want to go out with him,” she replied wisely. 

“I see…” I whispered as I realized it was true. 

When I think of Sukuna, I think of his sportswear, how great he looks boxing and how strong he looks against his opponents, but I also think of the thousands of flaws he has. He is an angry, spoiled and rude man. I could have disciplined Yuuji tonight, but he could become a thousand times worse if he set his mind to it. Even though I felt safe with him, I don't know him like I'd like to.  

“Besides, Sukuna may not be like Naoya, but it sounds like he's similar,” Nobara added. 

“You're right,” I sighed before closing my eyes. 

Since that night, I decided to stay sentimentally away from Sukuna. Every time I saw him, I thought about him with a cold head. I saw beyond my rose-colored glasses that made me drool for him. We still trained, ate and spent time together, but I avoided him at times when we could be completely alone. As the days went by I saw him less as a perfect man and more as a cranky friend. 

A month had passed since then and the big fight against Aoi Todo was just around the corner. The entire team had traveled all the way to Rio de Janeiro for the big night that awaited us. Brazil gave us a warm welcome from the moment we arrived. Paparazzi, fans, and sponsors had been bombarding us with flashing lights and posters to autograph since we arrived at the airport. Team Black had finally arrived to rule the place.

Sukuna tried to go for my face as he did every training session. I evaded him with no trouble to land a hook to the liver that knocked him back a couple of steps. After months of exhaustive training, I had already learned Sukuna's pattern of moves. He always goes for the killing blow first, then low attacks and again, tries to knock me out. It's a pattern that repeats over and over again with a variation that occasionally catches me off guard. 

“Keep your guard up!” Gojo shouted at me from the side of the ring. 

I put my arms up to cover my face better. Yuuji and Nanami were watching us fight with Gojo. We were waiting patiently at the UFC offices to be called for the official weigh-in. We knew perfectly well that Sukuna was at his ideal weight, but we had to find out if Aoi Todo was. Being the heavyweight champion wanting to compete for the light heavyweight title, it meant he had to lose at least 22 pounds for the fight to be held fairly. 

Sukuna sent me to the corner with a single jab. I tried to recover, but he was already on top of me, busting me with punches until I reached my limit. I could only keep my guard up until he got tired and opened a door of opportunity. What I didn't count on was that I got a hook to the tit. 

“Oh, son of a bitch! I screamed in pain while I pushed him to let myself rest for a second. 

“I wanted to hit you in the stomach, but since you are smaller, I didn't hit you where I wanted to,” he explained with an evil smile. “That’s some bullshit,” I thought.  

“Sukuna Ryomen, you can go to the office,” a UFC assistant announced. 

“Saved by the bell,” Sukuna said before taking off his gloves. I flipped him off as I took off one of mine. 

The entire team made their way to the office where the official judges and the referee who would be in charge of the fight were waiting for us. The process was simple. They would just weigh the fighters, recite the official rules to both of them, and we could go back to the hotel to prepare for the weigh-in. We had done this several times before, there was nothing to be surprised about. 

“Hello, Sukuna,” Yuki Tsukumo greeted us with a big smile as soon as we entered the office. 

Sukuna, Yuuji and I froze when we saw her next to Aoi Todo. This had to be a fucking sick joke. She was the coach of our new opponent? This only meant bad news. Sukuna completely ignored her to greet the judges, referee and Todo. 

“Good to see you again, Snake,” Yuki greeted me directly while Aoi was weighed on a professional scale. 

“Why didn't you tell me you were Aoi's coach?” I asked her while the judges were taking the necessary measurements for the data sample. 

“Was I supposed to?” She asked pretending to be confused. 

It was Sukuna's turn. He took off his shirt and shoes to weigh himself. I hated to admit it, but it was an amazing sight. Even though I had seen it several times before, I couldn't get used to it. I tried to look away so that my cupid thoughts wouldn’t take possession of my body. 

“How is your brother?” Yuki asked him to obviously annoy him. Sukuna gave him a whiplash with his gaze for even having the nerve to mention his little brother. 

“He's fine,” I answered for him so he wouldn't get in trouble in front of the judges. “Great, I'd say,” I said with a mischievous smile. 

After the judges recited the rules and both fighters agreed, both teams left the office with a tense air following us closely. Team Black began to leave the scene to return to the hotel after an exhaustive morning training and Todo’s gym went to the gym.  

“I hope we have a good fight!” Todo said to Sukuna while shaking his hand. 

Todo was friendlier than I imagined. He had a nice smile all the time, was kind to everyone and had an overall good vibe, unlike his coach. Now I understood why Toji Fushiguro wanted to leave the stage, so fighters like Sukuna or Todo could shine. Todo's team continued on their way to the gym, but Yuki stayed behind. 

“It's good to see you again, how long has it been since we've seen each other? 2 years?” Yuki asked him, ignoring the rest of her team to focus on Sukuna. She wanted to provoke him, I was sure of that. 

“Why don't you go ahead? I have to talk to her,” I said to Sukuna as I stepped between them to distance them. 

“Don't do anything stupid,” Sukuna whispered to me before walking away from us. 

“I would really appreciate it if you would leave my athlete alone,” I said to Yuki once my team had left the hallway. 

“I don't think it's a sin to want to say hello to him,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“You know perfectly well that he doesn't want to greet you after what you did,” I said. 

“So he told you. Did you really believe him?” Yuki asked me in disbelief. 

“Well, Sukuna's version makes you look like a gold digger and Choso's version makes you look like a whore, which one do you prefer?” I asked defensively. 

“I thought you would understand me. You know how hard it is to enter this world as a woman. I needed that job,” Yuki explained, making it clear that Sukuna's version of the story was the truth.

I knew better than anyone that the world of mixed martial arts was complicated for a woman to navigate in. There are perverts everywhere, the other fighters don't take you seriously and the coaches are harder on you. It's a world plagued by men who only see you as a small insignificant being, just because you can't compete directly against them. Women fighters have to work twice as hard as men to secure a place in the industry. 

“It's difficult but not impossible. Did you really have to pick on his brother to prove your worth? You only made yourself worse,” I asked, annoyed. 

“How sad to see you've changed, Snake,” Yuki sighed. “Who knew? One day you're on top and the next you're working for an idiot like Sukuna Ryomen. Weren't you supposed to hate fighters like him?” she said before wanting to withdraw from the conversation, but she was very wrong if she thought I would let her have the last word. 

“It's true that I hate fighters with massive egos like him, but I hate people like you even more,” I told him before following the path where my team had gone. 

“People like me?” Yuki wondered. 

“Bad and stupid,” I said without looking back. I hoped my point was clear.

I continued my way until I reached the reception. Sukuna was waiting for me in an armchair with his arms crossed while watching a TV in front of him, while the rest of the team was awaiting us at the van. “I thought he would go with the others.” 

“You didn't need to do that,” he told me once I got close to him. 

“It is, I can't let a piranha get in my pond,” I answered wisely. 

“Did you put her on her place?” Sukuna asked me. 

 “I insulted her in 4 different ways, what do you think?” I joked. 

“Good,” he said before getting up from the sofa. “I need a favor.”

Oh no, not again. It was the day before the fight, so I already knew what he was going to ask me. I wouldn't do it, not even if he threw me all his money. I was finally over him, I couldn't fall back into the void I worked so hard to escape from.

“I'm not going to fuck with you,” I told him directly. 

“I already knew that,” he replied. My eyebrow raised at that answer. 

“Yeah?”

“It's super obvious that you like Choso, and he likes you too,” he answered. I couldn't help but blush knowing that I was acting so obvious around him. “I need you to do me a favor with Yuuji.” 

I hadn't packed any cute outfit for the nightlife in Brazil, so I decided to wear jeans with a black fitted t-shirt, what I was supposed to wear for when we got back home. Sukuna told me that Yuuji loves to travel to Brazil for the food. So he asked me to join him for dinner while he does his good luck ritual with a prostitute Gojo got for him. 

“Are you ready to eat some good cuts of meat? I asked Yuuji coming out of the bathroom we shared. 

“Of course! I hope you have prepared your stomach because we are going to gain 5 pounds after this,” He said excitedly. 

We left the room to head towards the reception. While I was getting ready, he had made a list of all the restaurants he wanted to visit during the afternoon. We would start at a restaurant to eat picanha, then to an eatery to try feijoada, and finally we would look for some place that sold quindim or brigaidero. 

I listened to Yuuji talk about how delicious Brazilian food is as we rode down the elevator. When the doors opened, we were both shocked to see what was on the other side. There was a girl who looked very much like me in a little red fitted dress that left almost nothing to the imagination. She was not my clone exactly, but her hair, skin tone, face shape and body type were similar. We got out of the elevator and she walked in, greeting us in Portuguese.

“She looked just like you,” Yuuji said to me, still in shock. 

“Yeah…” I whispered impressed.

Masterlist.

Order your own fanfic! (Starting price: $5 USD)

Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00 @crowned-gemini @alialucille @azuremyst99 @dorck26 @esposadomd

#jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #fanfiction #sukuna ryomen #jjk imagine #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #fluff #jjk fluff #modern au #jinx fanfic #jinx #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #yuji itadori #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk au #kamo choso #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk fanart

[demetris-cocksleeve]

(A/n: The Stoner! Sero brain rot is real)

(I'd say "don't do drugs and stay in school, kids" but y'all aren't supposed to be here so I think all my bases are covered lol)

(Not proofread)

Word Count: 1,352

Summary- The herb might relax him but nothing helps as much as sinking into your hot, wet cunt.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs (Sero smoked beforehand + him and reader smoke towards the end), Pull-out method (use protection ppl, STDs and pregnancy don't seem fun!)

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Stoner! Sero x Fem! Reader: Stress Relief

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

From Hanta💕:

'Hey babe, mind if I swing by?'

Read 10:27 pm

It's as soon as your confirmation sends that you hear a knock at your window.

"There's no fucking way…" you mumble, moving to look past your curtains. Sure enough, the lazy grin of your boyfriend is just behind the glass.

"If you had said "no," this would be very awkward," his voice is muffled as he scratches the back of his head with a chuckle.

You slide the window open and yank him inside, ready to scold his recklessness. "What if you'd been caught? My parents would never allow you over again!"

Hanta pulls you in by the waist, "But I didn't~"

"Missed you…" He says, dipping down to kiss you.

The kiss tastes earthy and you immediately know the real reason for his visit. "Rough day?"

His head drops to your shoulder with a groan, "That obvious?"

"With the weed breath mixed with the way you're gripping my ass? Not at all." His hold loosens a bit at the call out, but his hands don't move.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"I never said you had to be," you guide his lips back to yours, backing up until your bed takes your legs out.

Hanta wastes no time following you down. His fingers come up to trace the line of your jaw before tangling in your hair, drawing it back so he can suck marks into the delicate skin. You can't help but to sigh out a moan when he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. "I want you so badly right now, baby…"

"Then have me," you gasp at the cool fingers that are suddenly under your shirt, inching their way up to toy with your breasts.

They stop in their tracks as he pulls back enough to gaze at you with blown pupils. "Oh, I plan to."

His voice is rough with need as he sits up to shed his shirt, exposing him to your ogling. Once his shirt is somewhere across the room, he slides his hands back up your shirt until he can pull it off of you.

You work on your pants and underwear while he watches as more and more of your skin becomes available.

"Fucking hell, babe-" He grips under your knees to yank you down the bed, flushing your hips with his. Hanta leans down to kiss you again, shifting his weight to one hand as the other slides between you to feel the growing dampness between your thighs. "So wet... This for me?"

Gathering your arousal, he brings his fingers to his lips and makes a show of tasting you. The sight of him sucking your juices off of his fingers has you clenching around air, desperate for any relief.

With a *pop*, his fingers leave his mouth; he wipes his spit off on your sheets as you pull him down for another kiss. The earthy flavor of the weed he smoked earlier mixes with your tangy sweetness in a way that has your eyes rolling back and a moan sneaking up your throat. He grinds his hips into yours, letting you feel the prominent bulge beneath the denim.

"Sero Hanta, if you don't fuck me right now, I'm gonna riot, I swear to god-" You tug on his beltloop, getting impatient with all the touching.

"Someone's impatient," He laughs, shaking his head as he stands up, "Don't worry, baby, I gotcha."

Deft fingers unbutton his jeans and slide down the zipper; he shimmies out of them, kicking them to the side along with his boxers and finally freeing his hard length. You reach out, pulling him close as he crawls back over you.

His arm flexes next to your head as it takes on his weight while the other lines the head of his cock up with your slick folds. Slowly, he pushes into you, inch by agonizing inch, until he's buried to the hilt. A guttural groan escapes his lips at the feeling of your tight cunt enveloping him. "Fuck, you feel amazing..."

Your hands grip at his shoulders at the stretch, but your legs eagerly fall apart, allowing him to sink even deeper inside.

"That's it, baby. Open up for me; let me make you feel good."

His calloused hands grip your hips, steadying you as he starts to thrust in long, languid strokes. HIs eyes are hooded with lust as he drinks in the sight of you sprawled out beneath him.

You clamp your hands over your mouth as he picks up the pace, not wanting to be caught. Especially not when you can feel your core tightening, preparing for release.

Hanta leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he continues steadily thrusting into you.

Suddenly, he shifts, causing him to brush against you just right; the jolt it sends through you has your toes curling and your hand shooting up to grip his arm, desperate to grounding.

"Oh, my god, Hanta. Do that again," you plead, needing to feel that again.

A wolfish grin spreads across his face, his hips snapping forward again and again, abusing your cunt. "You like that, baby? I've got plenty more where that came from..."

"You feel incredible... so hot and tight around me." HIs thrusts pick up speed, pounding into you with deep, calculated strokes that leave you trembling. He slips his hand down once more to draw tight, little circles on your clit, matching the rhythm of his hips.

Your walls start clamping down, attempting to keep his length inside you as you get closer and closer to cumming. The sudden tightness makes Hanta choke out a groan; it forces him to slow to a grind inside of you. Your hips have started to roll up to meet his thrusts and god, you're so close.

His thumb presses harder against your sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. "C'mon, princess, come undone for me; I wanna feel you fall apart on my cock."

His pace grows more erratic, chasing both of your releases as the coil of pleasure clenches impossibly within you. It feels like as soon as it tightens to it's limit, the coil snaps and you cum with a debauched moan. Hanta's hand shoots up from playing with your clit to clamp down on your mouth.

"Shhh!" His frantic shushing does little in quieting you when his mouth returns to sucking and nipping at your neck.

His hips start to falter, the clamping of your walls around him drawing his own orgasm out; with a few more erratic thrusts, he finds his release, slipping out of you just in time to paint your thighs with his milky spend.

With a final shudder, he collapses against you, rolling to the side just enough to avoid crushing you. He holds you against him as you both thrum with the aftershocks of your climaxes. Thoroughly dazed and satisfied, Hanta presses sloppy, lazy kisses along your jaw and neck.

After laying together for a minute, Hanta rolls over to grab his jeans from the floor, rummaging through the pockets before he suddenly grins, producing a blunt and his dented zippo. He nestles back against the pillows, pulling you against him. Flicking the lighter to life, he sparks the end, taking a long, slow drag. He holds the smoke for a moment before exhaling, the fragrant haze curling around you both.

"Care to share, beautiful?" He holds it out to you, gaze heated as he watches you take a puff with it still held between his fingers, your fingers wrapped gently around his wrist. Your eyes don't leave his as you slowly breathe it out through your nose.

His hand caresses your jaw, careful to keep the cherry away from your skin. "My pretty baby..." he murmurs before taking another pull, savoring the heady sensation as the drug curls around his mind.

He presses a kiss to your lips, prying the open and breathing the smoke into you. "Let's stay like this for a while, hm?"

#sero hanta smut #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x reader smut #sero x reader #sero hanta #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero smut #“sero” no longer looks like a work to me and that tells me im done tagging lmao

[carry-the-sky]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by my one and only brainpipe bestie @ninzied ♡

How many works do you have on ao3?

43!

What's your total ao3 word count?

163,202

What fandoms do you write for?

mostly good omens at the moment, but i am also tinkering with an old kanthony fic. i have so. many. hellcheer wips collecting dust in my google drive. and of course kastle my og, my beloved.

Top five fics by kudos:

say my name (and every color illuminates) - kanthony

the wonderful part of the mess that we made - stranger things trio

warm, solid things - hellcheer

every bit of beating heart - kastle

my head is filled with ruins (most of them, i built with you) - kastle

Do you respond to comments?

always! if i don't, i probably didn't see it.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely any of my older kastle fics 🙈

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

probably the one lucky dog series? i based the proposal scene (spoilers for a fic that's five years old lol) off of my own, which made me happy, at least!!

Do you get hate on fics?

thankfully no!

Do you write smut?

i have, but it's a struggle. the stage management of it all!! it's definitely something i'd like to work on and improve though

Craziest crossover:

probably my good place au. i was hmm shall we say overly ambitious with that idea, but it was a fun covid project!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i haven't!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

in theory i would love to, in practice i think it would stress me out immenselyyyyy

All time favorite ship?

i like nina's answer for this one. i love and appreciate them all for different reasons!! kastle will stick with me forever obviously. truly the fandom to rule them all. ♡

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the hellcheer detention fic i started for @majicmarker under threat of being pushed into a pool if i didn't finish, oop. wrote about 5k and just lost the plot completely. tale as old as tiiiime

What are your writing strengths?

capturing a vibe. dialogue. exploring smaller moments.

What are your writing weaknesses?

plotting?? i don't know her. also finishing chaptered fics. i probably overuse semicolons and em dashes.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i've done this before with very simple words/phrases. anything more in depth should probably be looked over by someone who speaks the language?

First fandom you wrote in?

kastle!!

Favorite fic you've written?

probably warm, solid things. it's the longest one-shot i've ever posted, and it's personal to me in many ways. i'm happy it seemed to resonate with people!

honorable mention to my most recent good omens fic, which took years off my life to write, but i'm quite proud of the end result; also this kastle ficlet which sort of just fell out of my brain fully-written?? what sorcery????

tagging! (no pressure!): @majicmarker, @redbelles, @heartonfirewrites, @imashybear, @evilbunnyking

@onebatch2batch, @ejunkiet, @malachitegrey, @andromeda4004 and anyone else who sees this and wants to play :)

#tag game

[badbatch-badfics]

Tech x Male Mandalorian Reader; Kar'taylir Darasuum Gar

Characters: Mainly Tech, little snippets of the rest of the Batch.

Relationship: All platonic buddies, except for Tech near the end.

POV: 2nd (you/yours)

Pronouns: He/him

Species: Unmentioned, but you have a normal "human" head (so no horns, lukku, etc.)

Content: Angst to fluff, get really hurt (literally) and then comfort. You're an idiot who can't confess unless their life depends on it.

Warnings: Description of injury and cleaning wounds(ish). Some throwing up blood ig. Cringe lol

Notes: Fem aligned and/or women can interact, but please be respectful. This is a MLM fic. Don't be weird. Thanks. "Kar'taylir darasuum gar" means "love you" in Mando'a- I couldn't find the equivalent for "I."

Word count: 5,364

You sat in the co-pilot’s chair, arms crossed and leaning back.  Tech sat in the pilot’s chair, tinkering with some self-made miniature droid.  Everyone else was asleep, Echo in his hammock, Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair each in their respective bunks.  The ship was decently quiet, except for Wrecker’s occasional snoring, which, honest to Kad Ha'rangir, sounded like a Venator class star-destroyer powering up.  Contrasting the man’s tremendous snores, the hyper-drive produced a nice and constant low hum, with beeps sounding out every once in a while.  Tech’s screws and wrenches would clang out, and the sound of sparks would startle you into a more awake state each time it occurred.

Although there was no way he could know, seeing as your helmet was facing directly out the view-port, you were staring from the corner of your eyes.  Hard.  The way he effortlessly moved his fingers across the droid, connecting and severing wires from point A to point B, or how the golden sparks would illuminate his face and reflect off his goggles, casting a beautiful glow that you simply couldn’t get enough of.  Truthfully, you couldn’t have been more grateful for your helmet and culture, knowing full well he would have caught on to your… tendencies, and quick, if you didn’t wear it- bearing all your embarrassing expressions out to the world.

You knew it was bad to be feeling like this.  They were in the middle of war, which was no time for romantic relationships.  And, truthfully, you didn’t even know if Tech, or anyone else, liked you.  For all you knew, they simply had high tolerance for annoyingly secretive men they were assigned to work with.  You had always avoided questions about the culture you grew up with, obviously always avoided taking off your helmet, and hardly took off any of your armor- even when it came time to sleep.  Which must have been unsettling for them, or anyone, really, you were sure.  Someone who was highly skilled in fighting, but never took anything off, always electing to remain in the armor that was most certainly not a comfort to sleep in.  And, clearly, the fact that, out of nowhere, the Republic had hired and assigned you to them.  They had every reason not to trust you- or to, at the least, not like you.

And you had no clue what to do to lessen that mistrust.  Telling them about your culture was out of the question- you couldn’t deal with the…issues revolving when, if at all, anyone would be close enough to take off your helmet.  they might think they were close enough, but you didn’t.  Or, even worse, you might think you were close enough, but they didn’t.  And, Kriff, if they caught on to you hypothetically taking off your helmet more around Tech than the others, they would easily piece together your feelings.

But, hey, maybe you were wrong.  Maybe they found you at least somewhat amusing, somewhat useful, somewhat not a nuisance.  And maybe, just maybe, Tech would even feel the same way.  Doubtful, but since when was love logical?  A beep came through, pulling you out of the deep pits of overthinking and alerting Tech.  He lifted up his head, temporarily setting down the project.  Tracing his fingers over the wheel and control-panel.  “We have almost arrived.  Would you go and wake up everyone?”

You stood up, stretching your arms as far as they could go, audibly groaning.  “Sure thing, boss.”  You first walked to Echo, shaking him gently.  He was an easy sleeper, after everything.  Hunter could sleep well once he was in it, but otherwise, his enhanced senses made it difficult.  Crosshair was easy enough, not incredibly difficult, but you wouldn’t wake him up by simply walking around either.  Wrecker, on the other hand, slept like a rock.  You found out within the first week of your stay that his brothers would simply punch Wrecker in the shoulder, hard, to wake him up.  Hunter had explicitly granted you permission to do the same.

That being said, you wound up your arm before slugging Wrecker square in the shoulder, earning a startled grunt from him.  Once he registered what was happening, he lopsidedly smiled and mumbled a good morning of sorts.  After the four men were awake, you headed back to the cockpit, electing a chair further in the back so they could all sit closer- a common practice.  Hunter gave the mission debrief- same old, same old.  Just beat up a bunch of droids, and nothing special about this mission.  Echo and Hunter had a smaller, but more advanced battalion of droids to defeat within the building, so they needed to go radio-silent.  Crosshair and Wrecker would take a larger battalion, as would you and Tech.  After everyone was 100% certain in their role, everyone split up.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kriff, this was not going well.  Blaster fire everywhere, explosions left and right, and the only Batch member you could see was Tech, double-blasting his way through any droid he saw.  You used a batch of whistling birds, each miniature missile hitting its mark.  Not that the few dozen marks did much damage against the entire droid battalion circling you two.  You reached for the pouch on your hip, which carried the multitude of bombs and droid poppers necessary for war.  Much to your dismay, there was only one bomb left.  And for better or worse, it was a giant bomb.  It would be incredibly difficult to evade- for both you and the droids.  It was designed with the intent of being far above the enemy- not 10 feet away from them.  But this was your only chance- if you could pair the main explosion and send out half a dozen droid poppers while the rest of them were distracted- it would be a victory.  And perhaps if you could run fast enough, dive, and get as many droids behind you to take the majority of the impact- perhaps you’d make it out relatively unscathed.

And, not that in a million light years would you ever admit it, the most important part- Tech would be safe if you pulled off this stunt.  You’d be able to get rid of at least one third of the droids with the large bomb alone, and sending out droid poppers in every direction during that opening would eliminate, at minimum, three quarters of the remaining droids.  All in all, Tech would have only a handful of clankers left, he would be safe, and the mission objective would be claimed as a victory.  Might as well.

“Run south!” you shouted over the blaster fire, instructing Tech.  For a split second he thought to question you, but decided against it.  He knows what he’s doing, and there’s no time to object, he concluded.  Tech sent a nod your way before running, still blasting his way through what was close.  As soon as he was out of range, you pulled the bomb from the waist pouch.  Maker, did you hope this will work.  You stared at the bomb, hoping you would be shown mercy, as if the bomb was a sentient being capable of choosing who to blast and who to not.  With a remorseful sigh, already having spent too long wondering and not doing, you reared your arm back and threw the ball as far as physically capable.

As soon as the sphere of mass destruction left your hand, you bolted- sending out droid poppers in different directions every few seconds, hoping to any god or higher being that they would take the majority of the impact, and not you.

Unfortunately, any and all higher beings seemed to be tastefully against you today.  You felt the heat and force before you heard it.  A stinging sensation sprung throughout your entire body, sending you crashing forward, groaning.  Apparently, you were not far away enough, and there were not enough droids to take the majority of the impact.  Kriff.  There was an excruciating ringing in your ears, or head-?  You weren’t sure, but it was loud and annoying as hell.  The last droid popper rolled from your palm, effectively killing off the half-dozen clankers headed over.

Although it was primarily obscured by the horrendous ringing in your ears, you could pick up faint sounds of blaster fire and metallic bodies hitting the ground.  You shakily got on your hands and knees, one arm clenched tightly over the stomach region, and lifted your head, groaning.  Although it was incredibly difficult to make out in this delirious state, you saw Tech running towards you.  He’s safe, was all you could think.  The mission was a success and he was safe, what else could someone ask for?  With that, there was no longer any reason to stay awake.

You promptly collapsed onto the cold ground, rolling over, hand still clutched.  You were coughing up blood, which just fell back down to your helmet and mouth, casing your cheeks and lips.  “Y/N!” Tech yelled, attempting to keep you awake and responsive- not his most successful attempts. You felt him lift your body upwards, examining the damage.  A shattered off droid piece had pierced through your abdomen, front to back.  Blood coated your armor, turning it from (color) to a dark ugly mess of browns and reds.  His eyes trailed over you, ever worried.  He and his brothers had never faced such an extreme injury, except for Wrecker’s large scar on his head.

“I need to take off your helmet.  I can hear you coughing up blood,” Tech informed.  You attempted to push him off, delirious of the extremity of the situation.  You were not ready to cross that bridge yet.  Tech felt bad, he did.  Even though he couldn’t possibly understand why a culture would not allow someone to simply remove a helmet, he would respect it, and he would respect you.  But in a situation like this, it truly didn’t matter.  If your helmet didn’t come off, you'd drown in your own blood before dying of the shrapnel was even a possibility.

“That was not a request, it was me informing you of what I’m going to do.”  You wanted to give him a smart-ass response, truly, but you couldn’t speak coherently, let alone think of one.  Accepting defeat in this minor battle, your head lolled back into his palm, coughing once again.  He placed his hand under your chin, just on the edge of the helmet, and carefully lifted.  The helmet hissed as he pulled it off, and your eyes squinted harshly at the bright light, now surrounding you from all sides, not just the visor.  This was not how you wanted him to see your face.

Tech grimaced.  Clear from the blood and sweat caking your mouth and cheeks, you had already coughed up a large amount of blood, and he highly doubted it’d be stopping anytime soon.  “Okay…I’m going to move you to that rock over there- you need to be more vertical than horizontal if I am to treat your injuries.”  A mumble was the only response he got.  Tech put his hand on your back, roping underneath your arm.  Using his other arm to support your lower back, he lifted, and despite all his effort in being gentle, it didn’t do much.  Even though the rock in question was only, at most, twenty feet away, it seemed like an impossible task.

With each step, despite Tech supporting the majority of your weight, it felt like another piece of droid shrapnel shooting though you.  Everything became more fuzzy by the second, dizziness overcoming you.  “We are almost there,” he said, observant of your worsening state.  After what felt like an eternity, you had arrived at the large rock.  He turned you around and gently placed you on the rock, blood coating his armor.

Reaching to his waist pockets, Tech pulled out a pair of tweezers, a large roll of bandages, and bacta-spray.  “I will cut space around your chest plate and clothing.  Do not move.”  You groaned, looking up at the sun.  Perhaps you shouldn’t have done the “throw a bomb and hope you outrun it to save someone else’s skin” plan.  Now you’d need a new chest plate and under-armor clothing.  Fantastic.  Tech pulled out a new set of tools, all to cut the chest plate.  Luckily, the hole was jagged and cracked, so finding a good place to further the diameter would not be incredibly difficult.

Tech carefully pulled out bits of the chest plate, making the hole larger by the second.  Unfortunately, him cutting that close, despite his best efforts, still applied far more pressure than you would like on your wound.  It was not a pleasant experience, to say the least.

“I am finished cutting around the front of your chest plate,” he said, breaking the tense silence.

“Okay…” you breathed out, voice shaky and dry.  He looked at you with pity before quickly tearing through the cloth, all too close to the droid bit.  He noticed your extreme uncomfort, face scrunched up, trying not to cry.  He felt pity towards you, but there was no time for any of that.  If he wasn’t quick and adequate, you could very well die.  Tech’s point was emphasized by another fit of blood coming up, some blood dripping on his armor as your head came forward.

He grimaced, using his thumb in a feeble attempt to wipe off the new blood.  “Can you lean forward while I cut open your back?” he asked, unsure whether or not it would be required to fully turn you around.  “Mhm…I think I can manage,” you mumbled, barely above a whisper and hardly intelligible.  You rocked forward, arms outstretched to hold up your weight.  Tech carefully moved behind you before repeating the process.

Eventually, Tech deemed the cloth and armor to be far away enough from the droid.  He would pull out the droid, then fully take off your armor and clothing, apply bacta-spray, and wrap you up.  Once you were on the ship, he could dig out any excess sharpanel.  Then everything would be fine.  He concluded that the best way to get it out was to not let you know.  He deduced that you were, more than likely, not thinking rationally- and even if you were injured, you were still heavily trained, and he didn’t want to risk you trying to push him off if there was a warning for what was to come.  To be fair, doing it suddenly would surprise you, which wouldn’t be much better, but your reaction time was certainly delayed, so it was still the best option.

“Lean back.”  You obliged, hitting the back of the rock and letting your head fall backwards.  While you were still looking upwards, he gripped the droid piece with both hands.  Pulling hard was most certainly not the best option, but he had already spent too much time clearing the space, and there was no equipment for performing the removal in a safe manner.  You would have to deal with it.

Tech pulled on the droid, and he pulled hard.  Your eyes went wide, and you lurched forward, hands grasping at the wound.  Short, ragged breaths filled the sound of the field, paired with the metallic clattering of the droid being tossed aside.  Tech cupped your face in his hands, looking into your eyes.  If you weren’t in so much agony, you would’ve been a flustered, blubbering mess.  “Hold still and do exactly as I tell you.  I need to dig out the smaller shrapnel, but the bleeding must stop soon.  There can be no distractions.”

At this point, you could hardly respond, choking on any words you attempted to form.  Now that the droid was removed, Tech could slip your chest plate off.  “Put your arms up and do not take them down until both your chest plate and clothing have been removed.”  Vision blurry and shaky, you lifted your arms despite them feeling like a hundred pounds each.  Quickly, Tech pulled up on your chest plate, immediately discarding it among the other debris in the field.  Following immediately after, he lifted up your shirt, slightly more conscious of the injury since the cloth was brushing directly against it.

As soon as he finished discarding your shirt, your hands fell limp once again, and you collapsed onto the rock.  Tech quickly doused the affected area with bacta-spray, not particularly caring if it got it more space than needed.  He needed to be quick, and there would be more time later to fix everything.  He positioned himself behind you, legs wrapped around to give you support as he cleaned the back, making sure to wipe off any large chunks of dirt or pieces of rock.  After your back and front were successfully doused in bacta, he re-positioned himself and you.

He moved about two feet away from the rock, legs straddling your waist.  He had turned you around, eyes meeting each other once more.  Your arms were gripping his shoulders, shaking with every breath.  Tech carefully reached around and grabbed the bandages, unfurling them.  He started at your waistline, moving upwards with each layer of binding.  He would carefully glance over your shoulder and angle himself to see your back to ensure it was all going smoothly- or, at least, as smooth as something like this could go.  The bandages had finally reached above your wound, before reaching over your shoulder for extra support and coming back down for a double layer.  Despite the wrappings having been on for less than ten minutes, the blood was already tainting the once white fabric.

“I am finished,” Tech spoke, finishing off the last layer and grabbing your waist to pull you closer.  He carefully grabbed his comm to relay his position and the situation to the rest of the Batch.  He knew it would have been useless to comm beforehand, as Hunter and Echo were radio-silent while Wrecker and Crosshair were dealing with a smaller squadron of droids.  But now that you were safe- or as safe as possible considering everything- and the rest of the Batch had their objectives completed, he could call them.

“Hunter, I need a pickup at the valley in between the two ridges where the droid squadron was.  Immediately- (Y/N) has been injured.  I have applied bacta and bandages, but it is not adequate.  We must get to proper medical care as quickly as possible.”

“Got it, Tech.  We’re on our way, just hang on,” Hunter replied, voice glitchy and faded out through the comm.  Tech pulled you closer, your head resting on his shoulder.  He placed his hands on your infraspinatus, rubbing small circles in them repeatedly.  The telltale humming of the Marauder approached, blocking out the sun and casting a shadow over the field.  The ship turned to its side before touching down about ten feet away, ramp opening.  Wrecker ran out, panic clearly written on his face.  He slowed down as he approached you, face falling more by the second.

“Wrecker, be careful around his abdomen, that is where the implication occurred.  Do not run or jostle (Y/N) too much, he can not sustain any more injuries than what he already has.”  Wrecker nodded in understanding before gently picking you up, hands under your thighs.  He placed your head in the crook of his neck, out of respect for you never taking off the helmet and hiding your face.  Your arms were draped over his back, bouncing with each step he took, despite the effort to be more gentle.

With a tired groan, you lifted your head up, eyes peering over Wreckers shoulder to be met with Tech’s.  He had stood up and taken off his helmet, the light gray armor tainted and stained with your blood.  You felt the incline of the ramp as Wrecker entered the Marauder, and the sounds of scattered feet and clattering could be heard.  Shortly after Wrecker had entered the ship, Tech followed suit, your helmet and chest plate in hand.  “Tech, what’s the deal with (Y/N)?  What do we need to do?”

“(Y/N) threw a bomb which effectively killed off the majority of the droid army, but was hit with debris in his escape.  He was regurgitating blood and had a large piece of a droid lodged in his abdomen.  I…have cleaned the wound, albeit quickly and not as efficiently as I would have hoped.  Clearly, I have bandaged him and removed the primary source of implication, but did not have time to adequately search through for smaller pieces of shrapnel.  We should not remove his bandages until we are on Kamino.  Someone should be watching him for the duration of the trip until we arrive, and we should attempt to minimize his sleeping until he has proper medical care.”

As Tech explained the situation, Wrecker re-positioned you into a more “bridal style” carrying, before gently setting you down on his bed and slipping his arms out from underneath you, all while avoiding your face.  Your head was propped up on Lula, and Wrecker draped a blanket over your body, the edge draping off the bunk.  He stood still for a second, glancing around nervously.  Tech came up behind him, placing a hand on Wrecker’s shoulder.  “Go in the cock-pit and help with the course.  I will stay here to ensure everything is alright.  There is no need to worry.  If I do require aid, I will request it.”  Wrecker glanced past his shoulder at his brother, sending a short smile of thanks before hurrying off to the cock-pit.  Tech carefully sat down on the edge of Wrecker’s bed, just beside your feet.  The bed made a small creaking noise and dipped ever so slightly.  Tech sighed, back slouching.  He glanced once more at your form, eyebrows furrowed.  You two would be having quite the serious conversation later.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hunter walked up to the bunk, staring before finally saying something.  “Tech- we’re coming into Kamino.  Take the wheel and comm in (Y/N)’s situation.  I’ll get him prepped and Wrecker will carry him till the medical team shows up.”  Tech nodded in agreement and stood up, walking to the cock-pit.  Hunter glanced down at you, avoiding your face.  He had a few of his spare bandannas in hand, ready to wrap up the majority of your face out of respect.  It wouldn’t be perfect by any means, but any face covering would be better than nothing for you, he reasoned.  Trying his best not to look, Hunter lifted up your head and placed four bandannas on it- two on your forehead, and just one each for your nose bridge and chin.  As soon as your face was covered, he re-angled himself to tie the knot behind your head.

After your face was covered as well as anyone would do while still minimizing the risk of further complications, he carefully pulled the blanket away and lifted you up, cautious of the injury.  He stayed with you until Wrecker and Tech came, the ship having landed.  “There should be medical personnel on their way.  I requested that a droid be the one to attend to (Y/N)’s injuries, but whether or not they listened is… uncertain,” Tech said, glancing over at you, worry evident by the slight crease in his eyes and furrow of his eyebrows.  Hunter was slightly surprised at his brother’s concern for your culture.  There was no reason to explicitly request for a droid, but he did so nonetheless.  Usually, Tech would not have cared for such things- so long as the objective was completed and no-one was severely harmed, what did it matter if some cultural lines were crossed?

Hunter’s thoughts were interrupted by Wrecker picking you up bridal style once again, head draped back and arms dangling.  His loud stomps echoed through the metal corridor, and it was all Tech could focus on.  Which had never happened before- just focusing on one thing and one thing alone.  But here he was, watching Wrecker exit the Marauder, you in hand- unclear if you would survive, and the only thing he was aware of was the echoing of Wrecker’s footsteps, you disappearing along with them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tech waited anxiously outside the med-bay door, leg bouncing up and down.  The halls were quiet and deserted, only a lone wandering Kaminaon or clone every dozen or so minutes.  Tech didn’t know if he preferred the silence or the possibility of crowded and loud halls, people shoving past each other non-stop.  He was fairly sure they were both equally terrible options.  Hunter had stayed with him a while, but he needed to get back to the rest of the squad- Tech didn’t blame him.  He held your helmet in his hands, looking over every detail- every mark, burn, dent, scratch, paint chip, design and patterns and colors- everything.  Although, logically, he knew it was very likely that either you or one of his brothers, or himself, would die in this line of work, knowing about it didn’t quite reach the same levels as nearly experiencing it.

The doors slid open, AZ emerging.  Tech immediately sat straight up, more alert than ever.  Before he could even begin asking questions, AZ began speaking.  “(Y/N) (L/N) will fully recover within about 8 rotations.  He is no longer bleeding and all sharnale has been removed and the wound has been treated.  He is to remain on bed-rest until I give the say so.”  Tech didn’t even bother to respond, all he could do was practically jump into the room and land beside your bed.  You looked up at him, trying your best to smile- he was not amused.  In fact, Tech was at a loss for words.  Tech was never at a loss for words.

Actually, scratch all of that.  Tech had an abundance of words for you.  That much was obvious by the way his face went from “soft and glad you were okay” to his signature “are you kriffing kidding me?” look with an extra splash of anger.  Your smile immediately fell.

“What were you thinking- I mean, you decided to throw a bomb which you had no chance of outrunning and for what?  That was the most illogical and poorly thought out plan I have ever seen, and I have seen some very stupid things.”  It was clear he had more to say, but he figured he’d save it for another time.  Tech glared at you for a second longer before pulling up a chair beside the bed.

He let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “You…are intelligent enough to have realized the risks.  Just explain why you took such… idiotic ones.”

Silence.  “I…I figured that if… you could get out of range, that would be enough.  I would throw the bomb and get far away enough to survive, taking out any more droids in the escape.  Then, you’d be… fine.  I mean, the odds weren’t exactly in our favor, Tech- we were losing that battle- hard.  We’d probably both be dead if I hadn’t done what I did.”  Tech glanced down, thinking over your words.  As much as he hated to admit it- you were right.  There may have been another way he would’ve come up with to save your hides, but at the moment- your actions did save them.

“I… am sorry I saw your face.  Although I do not understand why a culture would prohibit someone from showing their face- I respect you, and so I do apologize.  If it is any consolation, I requested droids only for the medical staff, and Hunter had wrapped up your face as much as he could.  Nobody really saw your face- just small fragments of it- except for me, obviously.”

You were silent, bandaged and calloused hands wringing around each other.  “It’s… it’s alright.  In my Clan, you are allowed to take off your helmet with… certain people.  Those you consider… close.  You can take off the helmet around those types of people.”  You glanced up, eyes just barely meeting.  He gulped nervously.  No-one outside of his brothers had ever considered him close- and if his hypothesis was right- this type of “close” you were describing was most certainly new- not the type of bond one shares with his brothers.

“Are you… implying that you have a romantic interest in me, (Y/N)?” Tech asked cautiously, as though each word represented him taking another step closer to the edge of a thousand-foot drop.

“Is that alright?” you asked tentatively, turning to properly face him, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Well… it is not standard military protocol to… intermingle.”  Your gaze fell downwards, grimacing.  So much for a confession.

Then he continued.  “But we have never been ones to follow protocol.”  Your mouth went slightly agape, and you looked back up at him.  Your eyes met each other, and he smiled.  He didn’t smile often.  Tech reached out hesitantly and grabbed your hand, rubbing circles in it.  You placed your free hand on his, like a weird romantic sandwich, and let your head fall back, closing your eyes in satisfaction.

���Y’know- if I knew all it would take to confess and know you reciprocated was to have a near-death experience, I would've done it way before.”

Tech jumped back slightly- “‘All it would take?’” he asked, mocking you.  His eyes were wide in disbelief at your disregard for such an event.  His face was absolutely golden, and you started laughing- evidently, far too much since within a few seconds you were clutching your side in pain.  Tech now wore a mixture of his “I told you so” and “that was not amusing” faces, judging you heavily.

"Regardless, AZ informed me that you would need an 8-day bed rest.  And as you do not contain your own proper sleeping area, you may share with me.  This way I can closely monitor you at the same time.  It will be greatly beneficial.”

You cocked your eyebrow, looking directly at him.  “If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just said so.”

“If you are to keep up this behavior in my sleeping quarters, I will not hesitate to kick you out- both figuratively and literally.  Perhaps I’ll just make your “visiting time” as terrible as possible.  I am not above such actions.”  You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes in a playful manner.

“Here- I made certain that I had kept your helmet.  The chest plate was practically unsalvageable, but it is currently on the Marauder.  Although you are… comfortable without it around me, it seems, I assumed you would want it for the walk back.  Am I correct?”

“You're always correct, and you know that.  Thank you, Tech.”  You carefully slid the detailed helmet on your head, somewhat sad.  Although it was clear that you would need to wear it in the halls and in front of his brothers, you still felt sad you two couldn’t enjoy more time, faces and secrets and emotions and everything exposed for the better.  You let the brief moment of sadness wash over- it was better to be grateful.  I mean, Tech reciprocated!  You couldn’t have asked for anything better.

“Let me assist you in getting up- you are most certainly not fit to walk by yourself,” he said.  You obliged, his arms coming up underneath your armpits and hauling you off the bed.  You quickly found your grounding, and swung an arm around Tech’s shoulders.  You two trudged down the long and barren halls of Kamino until reaching your designated barracks, pausing slightly at the door.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt such joy.  You looked at Tech, dark visor meeting his yellow-orange tinted goggles.  “Kar'taylir darasuum gar.”  Tech knew what it meant.  He didn’t need his fancy language visor to tell him what you said.  You loved him and he loved you.  And that’s all that really mattered.  He smiled at you once more before the door opened, Wrecker immediately shouting in joy that you were safe and sound.  Everything would be alright from here on out, war be damned.

#tech x male reader #tech tbb x male reader #tech the bad batch x male reader #tbb x male reader #the bad batch x male reader #tbb tech x male reader #the bad batch tech x male reader #tech x m!reader #tech tbb x m!reader #tech the bad batch x m!reader #tbb x m!reader #the bad batch x m!reader #tbb tech x m! reader #the bad batch tech x m!reader #the bad batch fanfic #tech the bad batch fanfic #tech fanfic #tech tbb x injured reader #tech x injured reader #tech x injured male reader #tech tbb x injured male reader #tech tbb x injured m!reader #tech x injured m!reader #tech x mandalorian reader #tech tbb x mandalorian reader #tech x male mandalorian reader #tbb tech x male mandalorian reader #the bad batch tech x male mandalorian reader #tech the bad batch x male mandalorian reader

[hopefuloverfury]

I always get so sad when I think about the bachelors and bachelorttes not being able to achieve their dreams :( so how do you think the game would be different if they had? like before they meet the farmer? (i love your writing by the way,,,)

While I was thinking about this, the main question in my head was “Why would any of them still be in Pelican Town if they achieved their dreams?” Sooo I had to put them through some bullshit to get them all in one place lmao. Thank you for enjoying my writing, it means... way more than any of you probably realize. Anyway, this was fun to think about, and I hope you have fun reading it! <3

Mentions of parental death, abuse, infidelity, dysfunctional familial relationships, and reference to Leah’s shitty ex (FUCK YOU, KEL!)

Sam was the lead singer of his own band, but is now struggling to find his new normal after the members decided to go their separate ways. It certainly doesn’t help that they ended on negative terms, and their fanbase has become fractured due to the controversy surrounding the break-up. Sam has come back to Pelican Town to spend time with his family and figure out which direction he wants to take his career, but his band-mates said ill-intended things about him before they broke up, and he’s struggling to make amends with his perception of himself. He tries to write new songs, but he isn’t liking anything he’s come up with, and it’s reflecting poorly on his self-esteem. He wonders if his fans will still be there waiting once he’s ready to release his solo-music, and is paralyzed with fear about what will happen to him and his career if they aren’t.

Sebastian is a professional coder. He saved up enough money to move away as soon as he turned eighteen, and has only visited for holidays since. He was previously engaged while living in the city, but after his fiancé cheated on him with a coworker, he returned to Pelican Town to pick up the pieces of his heart. During his time away he managed to check himself into therapy, so he’s well-equipped to handle conflicts with his family, and his relationship with his mother and sister have improved dramatically since, which is really nice. He is trying his best to pursue a healthier relationship with Demetrius, but the man really doesn’t make it easy. Robin also added an extension to the house, so he doesn’t live in the basement anymore. His room has a window now, but he still prefers the rain, and discovers with surprise that he likes the rain in Pelican Town more than he ever did in the city. It’s nice to see the frogs again.

Alex is a professional gridball player. His mother passed away before she could see him achieve his dreams, but his father has contacted him many times. Alex knows his father doesn’t actually want a relationship with him, though, because the only times he’s contacted him is to ask for money. Alex blocks his dad’s number after catching sight of him on the news, trying to drag Alex's name through the mud, but eventually moves away when his dad breaks into his apartment and wrecks the place. He settles back into his bedroom at Evelyn and George’s house, and tries not to feel too drained by the legal proceedings. It’s pretty relaxing though, going back home during his off-season. Not to mention he really missed the summers in Pelican Town.

Elliott is a reputable author. He’s written a trilogy or two, a smattering of stand-alone novels, and even has a few broadway credits. But after years of constantly writing, he’s burnt out and tired, and needs a break, so he moves out of his stuffy apartment in the city and into the cabin on the beach. He commissions Robin for expansions and repairs, and it’s turned into quite a nice place, if he should be so bold to say so. He talks to Willy a lot, and after hearing the stories the fisherman has collected over the years, he kind of wants to write a book about pirates or some other kind of adventurer, but nothing is coming to mind. He’s got an excess of inspiration and drive, but the moment his pen hits the paper, his mind goes blank. It’s incredibly irritating.

Shane is one of the most notable film directors of the last decade, and he’s got quite a number of credits under his belt. His IMDb page is massive, and while he doesn’t get recognized on the street very often, anyone who knows anything about film will know his name. He moved to Pelican Town with Jas after the death of her parents. Riddled with grief, he had the presence of mind to recognize some bad habits were developing, and he couldn’t really handle the pressure of celebrity life anymore. He drinks occasionally, but he doesn’t consider himself an alcoholic. He only drinks a few times a week—and compared to his colleagues in the city—that’s nothing.

Harvey is an experienced pilot. He initially wanted to join the Ferngill Republic Air Force, but after many discussions with his parents, he decided to pursue an ATP certification and become an airline pilot instead. However, due to the recent trauma of a severe crash, Harvey is taking a break from flying. He’s become intensely afraid of heights, and the thought of getting in a plane makes him physically sick to his stomach. He’s been working on it, but it’s already been a year, and he’s not any closer to being back in the pilot’s chair. What’s wrong with him?

Maru went to university to pursue a career in STEM, but was quickly disillusioned and decided it wasn’t for her, so she decided to switch gears and abandon her dream school. Robin understood after a short explanation and told her to come back home, but Maru’s relationship with her father has become strained since, and even though they regularly experiment in the lab together, it causes some unnecessary drama in the household. Maru tries not to let it get to her too much, but it does. More positively though, her relationship with Sebastian has improved since they both came home, and they can actually hold a conversation without getting irritated at each other. She likes hanging out with her brother, but wishes that they could've gotten along like this as kids, too. They have a lot of years to catch up on!

Penny was a stay-at-home-mom up until a few months ago, when her partner suddenly decided domestic life wasn’t for them, and yanked the rug out from under her. With nowhere to go and no employment, she trudged back to Pelican Town with her tail between her legs and a toddler on her hip, to move back in with her mother. She teaches Vincent and Jas regularly, and works as a private tutor for a few clients in the town over. Pam chose to take on the majority of childcare for her grandchild, but she’s excelling at it and hasn’t stepped foot in the saloon in a long time. It should be a great thing, but Penny doesn’t know why she’s so bothered by it.

Abigail is an active member of the adventurer’s guild, a highly skilled swordswoman, and she will occasionally dabble with the magical forces of Stardew Valley under the careful guidance of her mentor, Rasmodius. Yes, she knows. No, she doesn’t mention it, and neither does he. She doesn’t live with her parents anymore. When she was looking to move out, she asked to buy the deed to the old farm, but was quickly shot down by Lewis, and decided instead to claim the decrepit cabin south of Rasmodius’ tower. Robin helped her fix it up, and after a few months, it was in good enough repair to move in permanently. She spends most of her days down in the mines, clearing the monsters on the lower floors. She’s never gone past level 20, if only to save herself from her mother’s tearful begging, but Pierre has given up. They don’t speak much.

Haley is a prolific photographer. Her portfolio is hefty, some photos dating back from when she was in high school, but the most recent picture is from three months ago, and she hasn’t picked up her camera since. She doesn’t know why, but nothing looks interesting enough to shoot anymore. The world looks flat and dull, but maybe that’s just the city. When her parents ask her and her sister to watch their house in Pelican Town while they galavant through the archipelago on some “soul-searching-journey,” she accepts without preamble. Maybe she just needs a change of scenery to get her inspiration back. Maybe she’ll find her muse?

Leah is a revered artist, and many of her pieces are in museums and art galleries. She tries to live in the city, but quickly realizes that she hates it, and after a few misses, she moves to Pelican Town. The lush flora and fauna kick her inspiration into overdrive, and with the amount of foraged greens she’s been eating since moving into the cabin next to Marnie’s, she doesn’t think she’s ever felt so good. Unfortunately her ex Kel is determined to sniff her out, and that puts a damper on her shiny new life in Pelican Town. She wishes it was because they actually loved her, but she knows it’s only because they miss the luxurious life Leah’s job afforded them. She tries not to think too hard about that, though.

Emily is a fashion designer! She’s had plenty of shows during different fashion weeks and other events, and many name-brands have collaborated with her. She does do stylist work on the side, and many of her clients are a-list celebrities or high profile professionals. She prefers the countryside, though, so when her parents offered her and her sister their place in Pelican Town, she jumped at the opportunity! Only thing is, it’s been years since her and Haley have occupied the same space, and every resident in town has a dark cloud of thick negative energy hovering over their heads. She’s overwhelmed with guilt, knowing she can’t do anything to help.

#stardew valley #sdv #sebby #elliott #sammy #shane #harvey #alex #maru #penny #abigail #haley #leah #emily #bachelorettes #bachelors #hc list? #kinda? #i don't know what this would count as lol #asks #anon #requests

[scificrows]

Okay, my brain refuses to think about anything other than Murderbot, so I looked at every use of the word "friend[s]" in TMBD and... created some pie charts. Normal human activities.

Some Thoughts™ I had while putting this together (under the cut):

In All Systems Red, Murderbot notes that the PresAux crew are all close friends (twice! and goes on to explain their internal relationships which I think is very cute). This is pretty much the only use of 'friends' in ASR, except for when Murderbot says that SecUnits can't be friends with each other.

It seems that this may be one of the first times Murderbot has ever really been around a group of friends before? Murderbot notes that this is not the norm for its contracts and admits that the fact that they are all friends and the way they interact with each other make it actually enjoy that contract (before!!!! the hostile attack, so it already enjoys this contract before they start seeing it as a person etc ghghhhh). [Inference: Friendship seems enjoyable.]

The first character that calls Murderbot its friend is ART in Artificial Condition. Murderbot immediately refutes this (and then goes on to call ART its friend to its clients for the rest of the book). [Inference: Maybe ART is Murderbot's friend. And maybe that is... agreeable]

Rogue Protocol has more than twice as many instances of the word 'friend' as any of the other novellas. Why? Miki. Friendship and its implications for non-humans are a central theme because Miki is friends with everyone. Murderbot initially scoffs at the notion that Miki and Miki's humans are friends. At the end of the book, after witnessing how desperately Don Abene tried to stop Miki from trying to save them, and her grief after its death, Murderbot has to admit that she had in fact been Miki's friend. [Inference: Humans can be friends with bots and can sincerely care about them]

In Exit Strategy, Murderbot tentatively uses the word "friends" for its humans for the first time (several times actually). It questions whether it can actually call them its friends or not and later realizes that it had been afraid what admitting that the humans are its friends would do to it. At the end of the book, Mensah tells Murderbot the PresAux crew are its friends, which is the first time a human has directly said that to it (at least on-page). [Inference: Humans can and want to be Murderbot's friends]

In Network Effect, Murderbot seems to be more habituated to the word 'friend', confidently calling ART and Ratthi its friends, like it is no longer just trying the concept on unsure if it fits. There are many instances in which other characters refer to MB as ART's friend or the other way around and Murderbot's humans refer to Murderbot as their friend several times. Generally, there seems to be less hesitancy, because yes, all of them are Murderbot's friends, why wouldn't they be. [Inference: SecUnits can have friends. This SecUnit has friends. They care about it a lot.]

Conclusion: The Murderbot Diaries tell the story of a construct that does not seem to consider the possibility of friendship for itself and is fine with that - until it accidentally starts caring a little too much and suddenly more and more people annex it as a friend (ew) to the point where it can no longer deny that this is happening and has to begrudgingly admit that yes, it has friends now and maybe that is actually not a bad thing.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot #𓄿 #hi i'm READY to write a thesis about murderbot i am having way too much fun with this #i created a pretty excel spreadsheet and everything #i don't know why i did this but now i can look at them while i think about this more! so i figured i'd share them haha #i didn't count uses of 'friendly' but special shoutout to when MB is all alone in its cold cubicle missing 20% of its body mass #and starts putting on a show because 'the friendly noise would keep it company' 😭😭 #i feel sick thinking about murderbot all alone on its own not knowing what its like to have friends watching media for 'the friendly noise' #also YES okay i wanted to make a point about miki there but i just #couldn't bring myself to talk about that more so... yeah #also uhhh this data is very subjective #i didn't count particularly ironic uses of 'friend' and generally did not count every instance of friend and sometimes it was a hard call #also i probably shouldn't have counted the times murderbot refered to drones or secsystems as its friends (often after hacking them) #but murderbot does seem to care about them and shows kindness and respect and sometimes points out that a system is friendly #so while i don't think MB means “friend” in the same way referring to them as when it refers to ART for instance #i still think its CUTE and also kinda funny how many times that happened so i decided to keep those!!! #but yeah take my data with a grain of salt lol

[trigunbookclub]

I don't think it's okay to use nightow's artwork to make yourself some money selling stickers of it.

While funny edits and memes of official content are commonly made and sold by creators and I understand it is a topic of debate for many reasons, as I say in the post and on the page, it isn't about the money and I think I'd have to sell hundreds to even make much profit! I did a lot of calculations and the price is close to the supplies/costs/the size of the small print run/etc., and while I'm not the best at math, the cents leftover per sticker aren't adding up to much and--again, like I said in the post--will be spent getting leftovers in case of errors if it's enough. If someone chooses to leave a tip for running bookclub, I'm grateful, but a vast majority of people don't and that's fine and what I expect. The point is having fun and celebrating bookclub! The amount of people who wanted a sticker/badge of completion was enough that I really wanted to do something for you guys.

TL;DR: As I said in the original post, this was designed for fun, not money. Transparency is personally very important to me and I try to be as honest as I can whenever possible. Of course, I'm a stranger on the internet, you should take that with a grain of salt, but I do try to be clear about my intentions.

#Ask #If I had the funds to hand these bad boys out for free I would tbh #But it's not even close and I need some way to get them lol #So here we are #Maybe I could have chosen a better printer for a price? #But I had to count on a small run #And so far it seems like it's going to be a pretty small run so that was a smart move #Unless someone orders like. Idk. 100 stickers #In which case r u ok #And then the profit would be used in shipping lol #I also had to shift the base price up a liiiiitle higher to account for international shipping being what it is #And I'm happy I did because folks around the globe are getting theirs! #I am bad at math but I did try very hard #Because I want folks to be able to afford it tbh #Profiting off of them wasn't really a big thought but in retrospect I suppose I should have seen a question like this coming #I'm a wee bit groggy from waking up but wanted to address this asap #So if anyone needs any clarifications hmu #I don't know what kind of money people think I'm making off of $2 stickers and all the crap going into this project lol #But! Honesty and transparency

[venezianos-art-gallery]

A funky little doodle of these two fuck ass divorced men dancing lol

#—vene's art corner #hetalia axis powers #hetalia fanart #aph england #hws england #aph china #hws china #arthur kirkland #wang yao #iggychu #would this really count? #honestly i don't know what inspired me to doidle this lol #dont mind the ass anatomy

[terrorbirb]

I'm bored at work so I'm seeing if I should report my old company for violating labor standards.

#totes bro #im so close but it is so obvious it would be me because i used to complain about this all the time #they dont inform their immigrant workers of their rights and so they dont like understand how their timecard works #and thr company advises them to take the least expensive insurance policy because they 'are healthy and don't need it' #but i know one couple wants fertility treatments but couldnt afford it because of that #they dont have the required posters #they also knowingly continue osha violations which i held a meeting over and was told this doesnt apply to us #which uhm it says it does on the Web site so i disagree #all of this is like why i left and what caused me to leave #and literally lying to me and another guy that we would get promotions for the work we did #and then they hired someone else to do the job making our promotions unnecessary and they were like hmmmm sorry #idk they like got a ton worse and i think the president got more reactionary which caused this #not sure how many of these count but thats not for me to decide anyway #oh and cleanliness standards but i actually fixed a lot of those..... fulfilling the role that promotion role that was promised #my coworkers here are like 'absolutely report the hell out of that place' because we do code violations lol #every time i say something they go 'that could be a violation :)' #they paid someone on a salary basis when they were under the salary pay and therefore should have gotten overtime

[gaytranszoro]

sorry okay im rewatching whole cake w a friend and got obsessed with the vinsmokes this time around okay. sorry. however i am a liker of themes and motifs and doomed characters. sorrey.

#i just looovvee the ways the different families this arc are portrayed. big moms as an empire to be expanded. #beges as a loyal bond and structured organization #and ofcourse the vinsmokes as an army bound only by blood and not by love. and a commodity to be used/force to be strengthened #like sure they're all related but like. they do not act like a family even in the slightest. they don't even seem to really like each other #LOL just even w the charlottes you get the feeling they care about each other to an extent (ie katakuri and brulee or chiffon and lola) #but we rarely see any of the vinsmokes hold a conversation with each other let alone act like siblings. #(unless you count them like. abusing sanji as sibling bonding) #which i why i OBSESSSS over when reiju gets hurt you see one of them call out in concern. #n the (admittedly anime only) scene of yonji like helping a little. bear guy get a fruit off a tree. that shit cute as hell. #you get these like. moments of humanity with them that seep through the cracks of the carefully-constructed image of the Evil Germa Army yk #the way all the siblings turned out and the ways they compliment and contrast each other makes me think ab what could have been you know. #iirc reiju wound up how she is because her mother encourgaged her emptions and instilled a sense of humanity in her. proving they are all #capable of having that sense of morality the others just...didnt get it 1) bc sora died when they were so young and #2) bc judge had a VICE GRIP on them. #so they were doomed from the start. #their father wanted a perfect unfeeling obedient army of soldiers and he was going to get it by any means necessary #even if said soldiers are supposed to be his children #i do think the vinsmokes are deeply unforgivable but i also recognize tht like...they were victims of circumstance. #smthn smthn nature vs nurture #in another life i think they would have kicked ass together #idk im fuuucked upp off the green tea rn yk how it goes..... #.txt #idk how to be coherent abt them they just make me feel like pacing around my room with my head in my hands #its been said better by ppl with better grasps on character analysis than me but. abuse victims who suck. and are also assholes. #you mean everything to meeee

[chrisbangs]

hello... (and bye ig 👋)

#👋😭 hi... #i haven't come on in about a month and i didn't realize a month passed by like that... i've kinda stopped using any apps on my phone #i barely even talk to my friends anymore lol 😭 #i just saw my follower count this morning and realized i hit 13k and i was like 🥸 huh... #uhhhhhhh 😭 idk i wanted to say thank you i guess 🫂 #i'm done with stayblr and tumblr in general 😭 this much has been obvious for a while now... i tried to fit myself back in during 5star but #i think i realized i've outgrown the vibes here and in online spaces in general... i don't really enjoy it anymore 😭 which is weird cause #i've used tumblr since i was in middle school so 🫡 end of an era some would say... #i think it sucks because i don't have the same feelings about this place or skz or anything in my life right now... i tried to ignore it bu #it's so obvious now that the entirety of december passed without me really talking to a single person / without me using social media / #without me really doing much except for like homework and assignments lmao #i think genuinely i've stopped enjoying everything i used to like and i don't know why 😭 it hit me the other day bc i don't even enjoy #pc collecting anymore which is CRAZY considering how much time and money i've put into that hobby so 👋🥸 who knows what goes on #i haven't consumed any skz content since rockstar dropped 😭 and that also feels weird to me... idk... i would say maybe i'm going through a #depressive episode but i don't really feel how i do then... i think i'm just tired like i always am and that's just how i am now .. i think #i'm just not really interested in things anymore? weird but .. yeah idk😭 if i knew what was wrong i would Fix It sndjdndkd mostly i'm just #sad because i haven't been talking to friends... i keep ignoring everyone and not replying to any texts from anyone because ???? #i tell myself i will do it later but i know i won't ... idk i genuinely don't know why i'm struggling to talk to ppl anymore 😭 i've become #even more of a reclusive hermit than i already was 💀 and the worst part is i feel normal abt it #i don't feel /bad/ i just feel guilty that i'm not replying to ppl bc i don't want to hurt ppls feelings... on my end i feel Normal abt it #like i ??? is it weird that i'm so detached from everything that not even a month ago made me so happy..? that's weird right 😭 like idgi #i don't feel (as) depressed (as i usually do) but clearly ?? smth is wrong ?? like ik i'm not a clingy sentimental person but ? it kinda #makes me sad wondering if i really don't care abt ppl anymore ... but i think 😭 it's also the object permanence issues that come with adhd #not seeing or talking to the ppl i love . not doing my hobbies or seeing the groups i care abt . makes it easy to not care or forget what #they make me feel etc etc ... i get it... but idk 😭 if that's what this is . well wow it sucks ASS.. cause i feel guilty for not feeling #anything at all ... 😭 idk how to explain that HENSKDNISJS anywayyyy 💀 #i came on cause i wanted to say thank you for 13k followers 😭‼️ and that i probably will not be online anymore unless i really want to say #this was a really long winded way to say i feel bad but i'm done with stayblr fr 👋🥸 i tried so hard for the last 2 years to make it feel #like home again but it stopped ages ago so 🥹 that's ok.. i still cherish my memories here 🫂 anyway thanku and sjsjsksksks bye i guess 😭 #who knows maybe i'll enjoy it one day again and come back :') never know what the future holds 🫡

[marathedemonoverlord]

Lesson 17 Hard Mode Spoilers(???)

Just finished Lesson 17 Hard Mode ( Don't @ me. I'm taking anything I can get to stay invested ) and like.... Did Michael just love bomb the Angels? (ಥ ͜ʖಥ)

Maybe my ass just hates gifts cause I'm so difficult but like... Weird doting vibes- Anyways weirdly I feel bad for Raphael being caught in the middle of it all - He's so awkward I see myself in him (ಥ ͜ʖಥ)(ಥ ͜ʖಥ)

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer lesson 17 hard mode #obey me nightbringer lesson 17 hard mode spoilers?? #obey me nightbringer spoilers?? #Does this count as a spoiler? its literally two lines of dialogue... Interesting dialogue mind you but I'm not saying what it entailed. #I'm going through a phase of always loving men i cant have #I was obsessed with Simeon and Solomon but I feel like I get Raphael #Maybe I just dont like anybody and the fact Raphael dont like anything connects me to him #Imagine just trying to do your job as an Angel and Simeon makes it difficult - Like okay Karen take the kids and go LOL #I'm kidding Simeon's not a Karen I hope... He definitely makes life difficult for angels and demons alike #I like Simeon :> #No but like I don't try to weigh in anything with Michael cause we don't know him we only get pieces but this story bit... #I can't tell if hes mad doting with dad vibes that spoils every kid he meets or if he's someone who knows what hes doing giving gifts #I wonder if Michael and Diavolo would ever have a dynamic or ever conversed I feel like they are two people pulling Lucifer in directions #And of course Diavolo would be painted as the “good” option based on the angle of everything then Michael... #They'd probably either paint him as the opposite of Diavolo or similar to Diavolo except with darker elements under a saintly smile #Idk my mind's tired and rolling don't @ me #Still pretty odd huh.

[mymarifae]

you have got to be fucking kidding me......................

#i don't even wanna know how much money that would have been......... #like. seriously ? do you feel fucking fulfilled now. with your - i stopped counting after 30 because what the fuck #your 30+ meaningless checkmarks on tumblr.com. was this a good use of your money. paying for a meaningless ''''''clout'''''' symbol #and lining the wallets of the pieces of shit that run this website #yeah good fucking job buddy you are soooooooooo cool lol

[coquelicoq]

this post is brought to you by: la lettre c!

[previously: la lettre b]

i recently spent nearly a month reading the C section of this french dictionary. and by gum now you are going to hear about it!!

stats

percentage of dico taken up by C words: 10.6% (yeah you heard me. a tenth of this dictionary is just for the letter C. you've been warned)

percentage of dico read (as of the end of the C section): 23.5%

rate and duration: 3 pages/day for 27 days

total entries: 3449

rows added to my vocabulary spreadsheet: 708 😅

fun facts

more pages in this dico are devoted to words starting with C than with any other letter! which if you think about it makes sense. not only can a word-initial c be followed by any vowel, it can be followed by h, l, and r, plus the prefix con/com- is EXTREMELY generative…19 of the 81 pages are dedicated just to words that start with con or com (over a page of which are actually words that start with contre). i love that you get nearly 1/4 of the way through this dictionary before you even get to the 4th letter of the 26-letter alphabet.

as mentioned in the B post, there sure are a lot of slang words meaning "head" that start with c. you've got your caboche (hobnail). you've got your cafetière (coffeemaker). you've got your carafe (carafe) or your carafon (small carafe). you've got your chou (cabbage). you've got your ciboulot (diminutive of ciboule, which means head). you've got your citron (lemon). shockingly coco (coconut) is not slang for noggin to my knowledge…but it's not like there's a one-to-one mapping between "round things" and "things that are slang for noggin", or we wouldn't be in this situation with carafe, now would we?

speaking of noggins, there are also a lot of idioms meaning "to wrack one's brain" that were in the C section, either because the "wrack" word starts with a c or because the "brain" word does: se casser la t��te (casser: break), se creuser le ciboulot/la cervelle/la tête/les méninges (creuser: dig).

page hogs

(entries taking up 1/6 of a page or more)

carte

ce

chaîne

charger

chien

compte

conseil

corde

corps

côté

couleur

coup

coupe

couper

courir

cours

croire

culture

i knew coup would be big, and i wasn't surprised by corps or cours, but damn there are a lot more chien idioms than i was expecting!

🤯 momence

i looked up the etymology of un casanier/une casanière (homebody) expecting it to be pretty straightforward given the spanish casa meaning house, but it actually came from an italian word meaning "moneylender"??? which was then influenced by the word that means house, but still. not sure i buy the logical leap made in the CNRTL entry for casanier that the "homebody" sense "s'explique prob[ablement] par le fait que les prêteurs italiens installés en France semblaient tenus à résider en un lieu précis, évolution favorisée par l'infl[uence] de case* « maison », fréquent au XVIe s". yeah but were italian moneylenders unique in liking to stay in one spot? i kinda doubt it…

chevronné(e): experienced, seasoned, highly qualified. one of my favorite things about this project is how much i am learning about etymology just because words from the same root whose meanings have since diverged still often occur near each other in the dictionary. chevronné comes right after chevron, which is a pattern in the shape of a V (or upside-down V). on a military uniform, chevrons indicate an officer's rank. so someone who is chevronné is someone who wears a lot of chevrons because they have a high rank, which generally indicates a lot of experience.

and if you're wondering why chevron means an inverted V shape, another meaning of chevron is "rafter", as in, the beams in a roof that slope to either side…forming an inverted V shape. and why is that beam called a chevron? well, we're getting into speculation now*, but chevron comes a few entries after chèvre, goat. according to this dictionary, chèvre is also another word for chevalet, which means "sawhorse" and comes from the word cheval (horse). now, chèvre and cheval, though they look similar in french, come from completely different latin roots. but goats and horses are both four-legged animals, and a sawhorse is, of course, a support structure made of two upside-down Vs that look like the two pairs of legs of a four-legged animal. so i'm not sure of the exact chain of causality here, but it does seem plausible that the inverted V came to be called a chevron because of its resemblance to a pair of legs? of some animal or another??

*(the CNRTL etymology entry for chevron claims that it comes from a latin word that meant both goat and chevron, capreolus, but i haven't been able to confirm for myself that capreolus meant chevron so am not taking that as gospel.)

couché(e) en chien de fusil: lying curled up in a ball/in the fetal position. the fun thing about this one is that there's this passage in les mis where gavroche notices that the pistol he's stolen from a shop window "n'avait pas de chien." this confused the hell out of me when i read it. the pistol didn't have a dog? why the fuck would the pistol have a dog??? eventually i managed to wrap my head around the idea that chien might mean something other than "dog" in the context of a pistol, and once my mind was opened to that revolutionary possibility it didn't take long to discover that the hammer of a gun is called a chien. so when i got to this entry in the dictionary, i was like yeah, yeah, le chien de fusil, we've all seen it. the problem is i still don't really get how that translates to the fetal position. they just don't seem that similar to me? so this one is a work in progress.

être à la colle: live together, be shacked up. (colle means glue.) i also like vivre en concubinage, which means the same thing. you can imagine my surprise when i got to concubinage and finally learned it does not mean "the state of having concubines" as i had been assuming. i would see it in like news articles about modern french people and be like "that doesn't seem right, but i don't know enough about french culture to dispute it."

somewhat relatedly, i don't think i had ever come across et consorts ("and company") in the wild before reaching its entry in the dictionary, which is good because i'm sure i would have grossly misinterpreted it as well. on balance i think english getting so much vocab from french does make learning french vocab much easier than it would be otherwise, but there are times when it would really help to be bringing to the table fewer preconceived notions about the meaning of words lol.

let's talk about compris(e). so service (non) compris (service (not) included (in the price of something)) is one of the phrases i learned back when i was a kid who didn't know any french, because i was going to france and it was in some guidebook or other. then y compris (including) caught my eye very early on in my french education because i didn't know what the y was doing in there and i probably latched onto it because it looked like spanish. (the french word y has a completely different meaning than the spanish word y, but i didn't know that at the time because i hadn't learned about adverbial pronouns yet, and learning "y compris" didn't help me figure it out because it seemed to make total sense for a phrase which means "including" to contain a word meaning "and". but i digress.) and of course i learned the verb comprendre (understand) in year 1 of french. but it was not until now, TWENTY YEARS LATER, that i put together that the compris in service compris and y compris is...THE PAST PARTICIPLE OF COMPRENDRE! HELLO!!! like i knew that compris is the pp of comprendre, but i never connected it with those other expressions! and the english word comprehend also has both "understand" and "include" senses (think lizzy saying "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman" in pride and prejudice), so all the pieces were there all along! truly i am surrounded by countless wonders just waiting to be discovered.

i am continuing to take note of verbs that no one ever told me take être as auxiliary. the first one since accourir is convenir de [qqch], but it seems to only take être in some circumstances and i'm not really clear on what they are…just in literature or when being formal? the jury is out. this one is less mindblowing than accourir because it does have venir right there in it, which doesn't mean that it obviously must take être, but i feel a little more primed to accept it. accourir was just a total shock. i'm still feeling the reverberations.

favorite words to pronounce

cessation [sesasjɔ̃]

champignonnière [ʃɑ̃piɲɔnjɛʀ]

cliquetis [klik(ə)ti]

clopin-clopant [klɔpɛ̃klɔpɑ̃]

cocotte [kɔkɔt]

coléoptère [kɔleɔptɛʀ]

compensation [kɔ̃pɑ̃sasjɔ̃]

consciencieusement [kɔ̃sjɑ̃sjøzəmɑ̃]

contentement [kɔ̃tɑ̃tmɑ̃]

coquelicot [kɔkliko]

cumulus [kymylys]

cyclique [siklik]

so the mouthfeel in the C section is simply exquisite. sometimes i just say "consciencieusement" out of nowhere because it soothes me. that said, possibly my least favorite word to pronounce in the entire french language (yes even more than procureur du roi) also starts with C: chirurgie. like damn. have mercy. also found myself struggling with condamner (apparently you don't pronounce the m and you don't nasalize the vowel before it. IS THIS EVEN FRENCH????), construire (dedicating my life to learning synonyms for every sense of this word so i never have to say it out loud), and coopérant (no, not the double o! please, i'll do anything!).

favorite words period

c'est le cadet de mes soucis: that's the least of my worries. cadet is also the word you would use to talk about a younger sibling, like ma sœur cadette, so that's the association i have with it. out of all my worries, this one is the baby. aww.

avoir le cafard: have the blues, feel depressed, be down in the dumps. un cafard is a cockroach btw. i'm gonna need my fellow anglophones to either learn this french expression or at the very least calque it into english because i use it all the time now. lads i got the roach today…yeah no i'm gonna have to reschedule, it's that damn roach…

c'est fort du café: that's a bit much, that's going too far, that's pushing it. the coffee is too damn strong! dial it back people!

the C section contains both cahin-caha (with difficulty) and clopin-clopant (with a limp, falteringly). i'm always a sucker for (quasi-)reduplication! and with these two in particular, i like the way that the sounds rock back and forth, like an aural representation of the action they would describe.

renvoyer/remettre [qqch] aux calendes grecques: postpone [sth] indefinitely. i was confused by this one because i looked up calendes and naturally it translates as calends, which as a former latin student i know to be the first day of the month (just as the ides is a specific day in the middle of the month) in the ancient roman calendar. but according to this random website whose trustworthiness i have not determined, that's precisely the point: to postpone something until the calends of the greeks is to never do it, because the greek calendar doesn't even HAVE a calends. makes me think of that episode of parks & rec when ron had like 90 meetings on the same day because april had been scheduling all his meetings for march 31st, thinking that march only has 30 days. damn, should have scheduled them all for the greek calends. the french could have told her that.

calter/caleter ([qqch]): shift [sth], move [sth]; scram, scat, leg it. i will just be scooping this up and squirreling it away in my hoard of ways to talk about getting the hell out of dodge, thank you…

faire un câlin is to hug…or to have sex!! why does french keep doing this to me. i just want some affection-related words that are not also sex slang, is that so much to ask??

callipyge: endowed with a nice butt. i am not making this up, it is a word and it is in this pocket french dictionary. would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for the meeting at which they decided to keep this one in. "callipyge? oh yeah that one's essential." done and dusted. (okay after i wrote this i did hear moira say "my callipygean ass" in an episode of schitt's creek i was rewatching, but i think that still proves my point, because moira.)

une cambuse: can't believe there's an entire word for "hovel" that victor hugo never used in les mis. monsieur come collect your word (that also means "ship's galley")!

un camembert: obviously there is a cheese called this but DID YOU KNOW it's also the word for pie chart?? that's so french omg.

faire la carpette: bend over backwards to please someone; lie on the floor. i love the double meaning: figuratively being a doormat or literally just being flat on the ground. oh carpet we're really in it now…

faire la carpe pâmée: feign unconsciousness. quick, they're looking this way! do the fainted carp!

so many great casse- compounds, including three that all mean snack (un casse-croûte (lit. break-crust), un casse-dalle, un casse-graine (lit. break-food)). there's a whole bunch of casse-[body part] compounds: un(e) casse-couilles (lit. break-balls) and un(e) casse-pieds (lit. break-feet) both mean pain in the ass, while un(e) casse-cou (break-neck) is a daredevil and un casse-tête (lit. break-head) is a brainteaser, a conundrum, or a club/mace. the adjective casse-gueule (lit. break-face) means risky, dangerous, tricky. i also checked my separate french slang dictionary (you can't expect me to have just ONE french dictionary, come on) because i thought it was weird that there was no casse-cul even though the word cul is like the number one word to put in french idioms, and guess what. un(e) casse-cul is ALSO a pain in the ass. i am feeling so smug about this extremely obvious deduction. eat yer heart out, hercule poirot!

ça passe ou ça casse: it's make or break. love me a pithy rhyming cliche! i hope they say this on french reality shows…i can totally imagine it in a dramatic announcer voiceover.

je me casse: i'm outta here. yes!! another one for the casual farewell arsenal!!!

être assis(e)/avoir le cul entre deux chaises: have a foot in each camp, be sitting on the fence, be caught in the middle. literally: be sitting ass between two chairs. just such a good image.

appuyer sur le champignon: step on the gas. why is the gas pedal a mushroom? heck if i know, but i am on board with it and ready to be charmed.

tenir la chandelle: be the third wheel. listen, it was probably really complicated to have sex back in the days of 1) complicated dress and 2) no electricity. maybe you need someone to illuminate all the tricky fastenings you're trying to undo…that's where the candle guy comes in.

passe ton chemin !: on your way/off with you! i am collecting soooo many ways to tell people to leave. if i could just go back twenty years to that one time i was in a phone booth in the south of france with a friend who was being harassed by an adult french man…i sure would be able to yell something at him in the right language this time. rick steves taught me how to propose to someone in marriage but not how to rebuff a creep. come on, rick! priorities!

être comme cul et chemise: be thick as thieves, be bosom buddies. literally, be like ass and shirt, which maybe didn't age super well, because these days most shirts don't even cover the ass 🙄 interestingly, i looked up "be in cahoots with [sb]" on wordreference to see if that was also a possible translation of this expression, and it turned up être en chemise avec [qqn]. which is maybe just a slightly less vulgar way of saying comme cul et chemise? i don't have a great sense for how rude of a word "cul" is considered to be, since as i mentioned previously it appears in approximately five hundred thousand french expressions.

just to throw another thing in the mix, être en cheville avec [qqn] ALSO means to be in cahoots with [sb]. maybe être en chemise avec is what happens when être comme cul et chemise and être en cheville avec have a baby?? (before reading this dictionary i only knew about the "ankle" sense of cheville, but apparently it's also like a dowel that you use when building stuff? so that's probably the sense that's being invoked in this expression.)

chiche (incidentally, pronounced just like "sheesh") is an interjection meaning "i dare you!" (it's also an adjective meaning stingy.) this section of the dictionary also has cap ou pas cap ? (cap: short for capable), which appears to mean the same thing. kids gotta have ways to taunt each other into doing dumb shit. it's a universal law, probably.

bête comme chou: dead simple, easy as pie, easy-peasy. literally, stupid as cabbage. it's so easy a cabbage could do/understand it, and cabbages aren't exactly known for their feats of intelligence or skill. remembering this one should be bête comme chou. (i wish i could leave it there but i did actually look up the etymology of bête comme chou and it seems to be more that chou was slang for ass, so calling someone bête comme chou was like calling them a dumbass, and then at some point the meaning shifted to refer to things a dumbass can't do or understand rather than the dumbass themselves. but "so easy a cabbage could do it" is easier to remember, so.)

faire chou blanc: come up short, come up empty-handed. i was reading this thinking, man, the french sure don't think much of the capabilities of cabbages, but i looked up the etymology of faire chou blanc and this actually comes from the berry dialect, where coup is pronounced chou. un c[h]oup blanc was a phrase used in the game of quilles (skittles, related to bowling) for when you fail to hit any pins whatsoever. so faire chou blanc is basically to throw a gutter ball!

ferme ton clapet !: shut your trap! jotting this down for my trip in time back to that one phone booth harasser guy 👀📝 he will rue the day i built a time machine and also the day i decided to read the entire french dictionary.

prendre ses cliques et ses claques: pack up and leave, take one's things and go. listen, i'm a simple guy. you put two words that sound almost the same right next to each other and i eat that shit right up. also, as established i have this weird obsession with learning as many ways as possible to talk about removing myself from situations. so welcome to the fold, my child. you may have clique-claqued your way out of wherever you were before, but you are home now. allow me to introduce you to all your new siblings.

des clous !: no way!, no chance! clous are nails. don't look at me, i don't get it either. i just think it's catchy.

le petit coin: bathroom. literally "the little corner". as far as euphemisms go, i much prefer this to "the little boys'/girls' room".

c'est le comble/c'est un comble: that takes the cake, well now i've heard it all, you couldn't make this up. le comble is the pinnacle of something, the most [thing] that [thing] can be. so it's like whew, there's no beating that! also it comes from the latin word cumulus btw.

comme tout: as anything, as can be. in other words, af.

en compote: aching, sore. as though your muscles have been pureed into jam i guess?

une contrepèterie: a spoonerism! this is when two sounds in a phrase are switched, changing the meaning of the phrase in a comical way ("the lord is a shoving leopard" for "the lord is a loving shepherd", for example). the french example given in the wikipedia article for spoonerisms is "femme folle à la messe et femme molle à la fesse" ("insane woman at mass, woman with flabby buttocks") from a novel by rabelais. (which is kind of giving me freak in the sheets lady in the streets vibes now that i think about it.)

convivial(e): convivial, friendly, congenial, of course, but also easy to use, user-friendly! i find this so charming. i am truly so easy to please.

sauter/passer du coq-à-l'âne: go off on a tangent, be all over the place. literally, jump from the rooster to the donkey. makes sense to me. you thought we were talking about the rooster? well, now we're talking about the donkey. try to keep up.

les coquelicots: period, menstruation, time of the month. un coquelicot is a poppy, but les coquelicots? watch out. i haven't confirmed this, but i'm choosing to believe it's because of the color. also, i love poppies, and i love the word coquelicot. if getting my stupid period gives me the opportunity to say this fun word, i'll take it.

corser [qqch]: spice [sth] up (figurative or literal); complicate [sth]; flavor [sth]. my first thought was "is corsican cuisine known for being spicy??" but the etymology of corser is actually from the word corps, meaning body. so, you're giving body to something. neat! there's also se corser (get complicated, thicken), as in la situation se corse (the plot thickens). oh yeah. now we're cookin'.

en tenir une couche: be a dumbass, not be playing with a full deck. une couche is a layer, so i'm thinking this is like not having much going on under the hood. what you see is what you get. there's nothing under the surface. nobody at home.

ma couille: dude, mate. i definitely need ways to say dude in french. couille means testicle btw, because of course it does. this is french we're talking about.

un coupe-coupe: machete. literally, a cut-cut. if only more french words were formed using this logic!! i could get used to this.

le crachin: drizzle. which also allows you to say the truly incredible phrase il y a du crachin (it's drizzling). (cracher is to spit.)

ça craint: that sucks; life sucks. craindre [qqch] is to be afraid of [sth], so i don't totally get the connection, but i say "that sucks" all the time, so it's nice to have a way to say it in french. actually, it would be better if things could just suck less. but that does seem more difficult than just learning some words.

avoir un (petit) creux: feel peckish. un creux is a hollow so this is giving me vibes like please sir 🥺 my tummy is a lil empty 🥺👉👈

le cuir: leather, but also apparently the word for making a liaison (aka pronouncing the letter on the end of a word because the following word starts with a vowel) when you're not supposed to. no idea what that has to do with leather, but i do find myself kind of charmed against my will to know that there's a specific word for this mistake i make all the time. i guess that means i'm not alone. OR they made up the word just for me 🥰 either way, a win imho.

avoir du cul: be damn lucky. okay the rest of these are cul idioms. i told you there were a lot, so i have just picked my very favorites.

avoir la tête dans le cul if translated literally would be more or less "have one's head up one's ass", mais attention because apparently in french it means be half-asleep, be dozy, feel like shit. so if someone says j'ai la tête dans le cul, they are probably not inviting you to join them in roasting them for being a dumbass. word to the wise.

en avoir plein/ras le cul (de [qqch]): be sick and tired (of [sth]), be fed up (with [sth]), have had it up to here (with [sth]). french truly is a beautiful language.

saving the best for last (but also, it just came last in the alphabet): et mon cul, c'est du poulet ?: yeah, right!, my ass! literally "and my ass, it's [made of] chicken?" i assume i don't have to explain why this brings me such joy.

next up…51 pages of Ds! (which i actually finished reading long ago and am now in the E's but shhhhh)

#and my ass‚ it is made of chicken? #yeah okay i'll incorporate that into my lexicon. #french #lecture du dico #my posts #links #cuts #linked to #cul idiom count: only 7! you have no idea what a feat of curation this was. there are soooo many cul idioms u guys... #ps i actually only have one french dictionary if you don't count french-english dictionaries #if you do count them i have four french dictionaries #because obviously i just have a regular old french-english english-french dictionary #then i have one of those but specifically for slang. it is however from 20 years ago so it's unclear how dated it is #then i have a 'dictionary' of french idioms that translates them into english. i guess that's not exactly a dictionary though #i also have at least one little guidebook #but honestly mostly i use online dictionaries lol #i've been thinking lately i might go down from 3 pages a day to 2 pages a day #what's the rush? plus i am now going through sections faster than i can write about them #so we'll see. that would still have me finishing less than a year after i started #and then who knows? there's always the slang dictionary... #😎