Hey gotta ask , what happened to the “nishida visit hometown”fic?
They’re pretty good and interesting btw
thanks very much for the kind words!
nothing happened to it, I'm just slow at the best of times and I've been in the worst physical and mental state of my life for awile and increasingly.
anyway heres a preview :)
The Birthday Party
“…Okay,” Majima finally said, following a pause so long that Nishida had begun to physically sweat. “You’re off the hook for now. But don’t let this shit happen again, yeah?”
For a moment Nishida stayed perfectly still, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It didn’t. Majima stared, and then raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you, sir!” Nishida exclaimed, dropping to his hands and knees. “I really appreciate your generosity. Thank you!”
Apparently satisfied, Majima waved an airy gloved hand. “Just keep on your toes. I expect you to come back refreshed and ready to put your nose to the goddamn grindstone after this weekend.”
Nishida gaped, craning his head up. “Uh, sir… I can really still have the weekend off?” He hardly dared to hope; it was surprising enough that Majima was declining to punish him. It didn’t bear imagining that Nishida would get to keep his vacation, too. He ducked his head again, anticipating a screech as Majima revealed it was all a joke. But-
“Yup. You ain’t had a day off in at least a couple months, and you know Kiryu-chan’s gettin’ out of the big house before too long. I gotta have this family in ship-shape. Just don’t forget what I’m doin’ for you,” Majima said, and he smiled a smile that was somehow flat and cold.
“I won’t, sir!” Nishida leapt to his feet, and bowed low anew. “Thank you, sir! I won’t let you down!”
“Alright, that’s enough. You’re dismissed.” Leaning back in his fancy office chair, Majima pulled out a cigarette. Nishida went to light it.
“I said, you’re dismissed!” Majima snapped, pulling the cigarette away.
Rule number six of dealing with Majima: don’t push your luck. Hastily Nishida bowed one last time, and then fled the room, closing the door behind him.
A small crowd of the boys flinched back as Nishida exited. Some of them were holding ice packs and bottles of painkillers, ready to attend to the inevitable consequences of Nishida’s inevitable beating.
Or rather the beating Nishida himself would have assumed was inevitable a few minutes ago.
“Aniki?” one of them asked in surprise. “Are you done?”
“Uh, looks like it,” Nishida said, running a hand over his skull as though to check it were still in one piece. It was, aside from the old bruise and stitches over his eyebrow from last week (he’d almost forgotten about that). He could barely believe it himself.
“Whoa… he didn’t punish you?”
“Nope. He forgave me, and said something about wanting the Family to be in top shape for when K- for when something big happens later this year,” Nishida explained, quickly correcting himself so as not to give away the information about Kiryu. Nishida had no reason to believe Majima would be pissed off if others found out, but Nishida adhered carefully to rule 14: assume information is private unless told otherwise. Though he also tried to stick to rule 10, don’t wait for instructions if there’s a chance you’re supposed to act on your own. Sometimes it was hard to balance the two. Majima was nothing if not mercurial.
This time, though - this time Majima’s unpredictability was working in Nishida’s favor. It was a lovely little change. He’d expected to have to cancel on his mom; but instead, he headed home around 10 p.m. and threw some clothes into a bag. At midnight he caught the taxi he’d arranged in advance.
[nishida arrives in his hometown, goes to his mom's house, his old friend is there. after some dialogue she starts to roast him]
"I really don’t want to pry, but I care about you and I have to ask - you keep getting into accidents, it seems like you’re barely sleeping, you drink and smoke more than you used to. Nishi… are you on drugs?”
“No! Drop it, okay?” Nishida said, an edge of warning in his voice. This was unbelievable. Nishida was known in the Majima Family as a stick-in-the-mud lightweight, and in his hometown he’s suddenly branded as a hard-partying alcoholic? “I’ve told you before that accounting is demanding as hell. Yeah, I don’t get a lot of sleep. But I’ve always been clumsy. Don’t you remember the time we were biking up the hill and-“
“Nakai’s an accountant, and he’s doing just fine. He has weekends off-“
“Nakai does accounting for the local businesses, Kita,” Nishida said. “Tokyo’s a whole different ball game. It’s not really comparable. I promise I’m not on drugs. Okay?”
Kitahara’s mouth made a tight line. “Do you ever think about quitting?” she asked.
“What?”
“Aren’t you rich enough, now? You could get out anytime you wanted. You could retire, for fuck’s sake. Right?”
He toyed with the edge of the counter. “It’s… not that simple.”
“Why not? You have tons of money, right? You could live on it comfortably. Or are you in debt?”
“No. I’m debt free. Kita, stop coming up with conspiracy theories. I have a decent amount of money saved up, yes.”
“Then why keep working? You don’t like your job, so just quit. You could get a part-time thing, even. With a CV like yours, you could get any job you wanted.”
Nishida couldn’t suppress a sharp laugh. He hadn’t had a job that would look good an a CV for a decade. But he didn’t dwell on the irony. “I do like my job,” he insisted. “It’s fast-paced, sure, and it can be terrifying, but it’s exciting. I like my coworkers, I like the challenge, I like the flexibility I get. I’ve climbed pretty far, and I like that, too. The guys I supervise like me, and we work together well. I even like my boss, despite his idiosyncrasies.”
“He’s grinding you down to a pulp.”
She didn’t know how true the statement was. But, “Sure, he’s demanding,” Nishida shrugged. “Lots of bosses are. I wouldn’t trade him if I had the chance.”
The doorbell rang, cutting into Nishida’s speech. “I’ll get it,” he sighed. “Machida-san probably found out about mom’s party.”
“Old bitch,” Kitahara said good-naturedly, moving over to take Nishida’s spot at the counter.
Treading down the hall, Nishida double-checked that his shirt sleeves weren’t rolled up far enough to risk revealing a sliver of tattoo, and then he opened the door. “Hi,” he said. “Are you-“ And he froze.
“Sup,” Majima said. “I heard there was a birthday girl here?”
Nishida’s first instinct, after the cold sweat sweeping over him quieted down into terror, was to slam the door in Majima’s face.
Apparently years-old instincts of respect and obedience didn’t work outside of Kamurocho, because slamming the door in Majima’s face was just what Nishida did.
Majima jammed a steel-capped toe into the gap, preventing the door from closing completely. “How rude,” he said mildly. “I just came to celebrate your mom’s big day. She’s turning 70, right? That’s a big deal. It would be a shame if anything were to spoil the occasion.”
Nishida’s shirt was sticking to him. The summer day, once so pleasant, had become uncomfortably hot and cold at the same time. He wrenched the door open again. Majima smiled politely, as though nothing odd had happened. He was wearing a plain black suit, and he had a gift and flowers in his hands.
“Sir, could we… discuss this outside for a minute?” Nishida whispered weakly, still gripping the side of the door in a death grip. It might have been the only thing preventing him from collapsing to the ground.
“Hm? What’s there to discuss?” Majima asked innocently.
At just that moment, “Son?” Nishida’s mom called from the back hall, poking her head around the corner. “There’s - oh! Who’s this?”
“I’m Suzuki Goro,” Majima said quickly, with a slight bow. “I’m Nishida’s boss. Might you perhaps be the Nishida-san whose birthday I’ve come to celebrate?”
Nishida’s heart dropped into his stomach as his mom’s eyes widened. “Oh my!” she said and came hurrying down the hall. “Suzuki-san, please come in, it’s an honour to finally meet you!” She bowed low, multiple times, and, feeling sick, Nishida backed away from the door to give her space.
“He didn’t tell me you were coming,” Nishida’s mom fussed, puttering around Majima as though he had a coat for her to take. “I’m so sorry not to have given you a better greeting. Please, excuse my son’s rudeness and come join us.” She bowed again.
“Sure thing,” Majima said, smirking at Nishida over his mom’s head. “I do love a good party.”
“Wait,” Nishida said desperately. “Sir, sir, can’t I show you the front garden?”
“I seen it already, I came from the front. Gorgeous work, Nishida-san,” Majima said, winking roguishly at Nishida’s mom. At least, presumably it was a wink.
“Oh, why, thank you!” she exclaimed. “It’s nothing, really. Nothing at all.”
Anyone ever thought about how Bleach's greatest tragedy is Ichigo's desire was to fight fate but has never had a shred of agency his entire life?
Even when Ichigo sincerely believes he's acting of his own accord; he's merely the puppet dancing to another's strings?
Aizen manipulated his parents into meeting, manipulated Rukia into meeting him.
Kisuke manipulated Ichigo from behind the scenes while Ichigo tried to save Rukia, forcing him to learn skills waaaay above his paygrade before he was remotely ready to further Kisuke's own plans. It could be argued that Ichigo's entire existence was planned according to Kisuke's designs.
Isshin manipulated/forced him to learn Deux Ex Saigo no Getsuga Tenshou without telling him the cost, because apparently it was the 'only way' - despite having Kisuke "I plan for ten thousand scenarios" Urahara on his side. And did little in the way of helping his powerless literally soul-torn son cope with the monumental sacrifice after the fact.
Ginjo Kugo and his followers manipulated Ichigo by stringing along the prospect of gaining Fullbring, so they could steal it to have their revenge on Soul Society. Made easier due to the aforementioned apparent lack of support from Isshin.
Sword!Yhwach has manipulated Ichigo the entire time by turning him against his own soul, sabotaging his growth and ability to harness his powers.
Ichibei manipulated him into undergoing that trial to turn him into a Soul King vessel with the intention of chopping him up as the replacement.
Yhwach manipulated Ichigo into killing the Soul King.
"Give me a blade to shatter fate." is a sad joke and poor Ichigo is the walking punchline.
No wonder why no one told him anything about himself until the last minute. An ignorant tool is an easily manipulated tool.
you know what, fuck it, this needs to be said again
this is CANON in the comics
even in the hawkeye show, yelena is VISIBLY SEX-REPULSED and shows NO INTEREST IN ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS, so i better not hear A WORD about how “oh but aroace people can still have sex/have relationships/fill in the blank here.” yes that’s true but does NOT apply to yelena
i’m so sick and tired of having to FIGHT for an ounce of representation and acknowledgment of my existence so i’m done being nice
(aphobic comments will be blocked and deleted)
Noah: Captain, I did something terrible!
Majima: It's okay. I have a shovel.
Noah: Yeah...wait, what do you think I did?!
Majima: Doesn't matter. No one will ever know
the fact that so much of yakuza 7 is about how there is no age limit on meeting new friends, adventuring, having fun, achieving your goals or pursuing your most idealistic dreams. after wasting nearly 2 decades in prison, ichiban sets out on becoming the hero his childhood self dreamed of being, and it doesn't happen in his late teens or his 20s. his adventure truly begins in his 40s. and thats ok.
old ryuji drawing I still like ft.daigo
FETCH ME NEIL
I haven’t been on tumblr for quite as long as a lot of people but over several years I’ve noticed this interesting gradual sorta,, shift in the general culture? that it went from this mostly depressed, nihilistic outlook where people would regularly joke about hating themselves and being hopeless and depressed, to a wave of vehemence of “STOP hating everything actually the world is Good and you deserve love!!!” type posts, to now, where those aggressive ‘PSAs’ have faded away and instead I regularly see people romanticizing simple things like stars and hot tea and rainy mornings, and waxing poetic about their friends, and just trying to put love out there. and I don’t know exactly what that means (someone who knows more than me could probably say something smart about generational expression and trauma or popular perception of mental health and whatnot), but I do know that it makes my heart very full to see people learn to love the world and themselves by extension, and a whole userbase adopting healthier coping mechanisms, and therefore teaching the younger users to do so as well. I might just be following different people, but I really do think we’ve grown. everyone has grown. five years ago it wasn’t unusual for the next post on my dash to be a scathing commentary on why nothing matters or an anon ripping into someone they barely knew or someone complaining about how pathetic their interests are. now I have mutuals who get excited and spam reblog art of cows and friends I see tagging each other in pictures of frogs and strangers writing paragraphs about how much I matter. it makes me happy. idk. just an observation I wanted to make. I think people are good and everyone’s just trying their best at the end of the day