#<- so people who know things might actually answer

[giddyfatherchris]

📝 skz reaction - you fall asleep on their laps

pairing. ot8!skz x gn!reader (individually)

type. fluff fluff fluffff

warnings. gender neutral reader, curse words (thats how i show my enthusiasm okay)

a/n. as someone who falls asleep anywhere and loves to sleep with people around me, i need to have a nap on each of them thank you.

a/n 2. yes the members order is reversed… thats just how inspiration struck and i couldn’t be bothered to change it SUE ME🫥

(pictures are not mine. credit to the owner!)

(divider credit!)

jeongin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would maybe be a lil annoyed at first thinking you're not moving because you want to annoy him. until he realizes that no no you're just extenuated and literally fell asleep on him which would suprise him sooo much. poor baby wouldn't know what to do with himself. he probably woudn't dare to move and would be tensed as all hell. although, slowly, he'd relax and grow into it. once he gets over his fear of waking you up he'd be so so smitten with you, cooing at how adorable you are, to the point where that actually woke you up

seungmin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would def be annoyed, going as far as trying to make you move away or scold you to go to bed. it's not that he doesn't like it, but he's uncomfortable and can’t understand why you’d want to cuddle him. once he asked why you didn't sleep somewhere else and you explained there was something about him that made you feel safe and at peace, that annoyance and awkwardness *poof* disappeared. he would let you sleep with your head comfortably laying on his lap while he practices a few songs and hums you to sleep aka best thing EVER. once you're fast asleep he would ask for someone to bring you a blanket and proceed to give a death stare to anyone who might make too much noise (euhm euhm binnie).

felix ⊹ ࣪ ˖ when you pouted and asked him to sleep on his lap he didn't even think before answering yes. being very comfortable with physical touch, our lil aussie boy would not mind at all. except he would not be prepared for how ADORABLE you look when you sleep. he would definitely take a thousand pictures of you (which he keeps in a special album in his phone). he would love to play in your hair or lightly massage your shoulders. and after that first time, whenever he sees you yawn a little too much he'd motion for you to lay on his lap. he is not ashamed to say one of his favorite thing to do is gaming while you're dozing off on his lap.

han ⊹ ࣪ ˖ first time it happened he was soooo scared to wake you up and wouldn't move at all. but that stopped very quick lmao, he would love when you fall asleep on him, even though he's not the best for it because he keeps moving and wiggling around. loves loves loves skinship, so he would constantly play with your hair, your clothes or poke your cheeks while you're trying to fall asleep. the only way to make this really work for both of you would be for him to watch his favorites animes while you're sleeping with your head on his shoulder.

hyunjin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he says he's not a fan of physical touch, but that does not apply to the ppl he's close with. including you. when you fall alseep on his lap he's an absolute cuddle master. he would put his sweater on you when you shiver and coo whenever you make a little grumbling noise. he'd love to draw little sketches of you while you're asleep or take pictures, which most likely wake you up and make you move away and makes him whine like a baby. he's honestly kind of annoying to fall asleep on, but whenever you'd move away he would for sure bring you back on his lap with a promise to stop bothering you this time.

changbin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ despite the fact that he has the attention span of a squirrel and that he's one loud motherfucker, whenever you fall alseep on his lap he turns into a statue. this man will not move or say a thing. he'd love how innocent and relaxed you look when you're sleeping and would be ready to annihilate anyone who may interupt that. the boys would definitely try to taunt him with food to get him to move but he'd categorically refuse to bother your peaceful naps. when they inevitably bring that fact to your attention he'd become all shy and he mumble about how it's not his fault you look so precious when you sleep.

minho ⊹ ࣪ ˖ mister minho would act annoyed for half a second before he pulls you closer and play mindlessly with strands of your hair. there is legit no space between the two of you and that's how he likes it okay >:( he would give dirty looks to the boys whenever they tried taunting him about how soft he is with you. most of the time he falls alseep too, his hands resting on your hips while the boys take pictures of the pair of you. when they show them to you guys afterwards he says nothing but has a small shy smile and you can bet your ass he will have one of those pictures as his background.

bangchan ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would fucking love when you fall asleep on his lap. it's no secret channie is one caring little fucker and he loves to care for/protect the people he loves. the first time you would settle your head on his lap to relax he'd try to play it cool as if it was no big deal, but when he'd realize you actually fell asleep his heart would be seconds away from fricking exploding. you'd look so cute and cozy and keep wiggling to be closer to him. it would definitly make his lil soft heart flutter and he would make funny faces, incapable of containing the effect you have on him (which the boys love to make fun of him for). after the first time, he'd declare himself your official nap spot and it would not be negotiable or else he’d pout and whine until you finally come to him.

[pomrania]

I got Kingdom Hearts. My knowledge of it is limited to a) osmosis and b) this one fic I'd read which is from the perspective of some antagonists who aren't very popular among the fandom. BUT one of the things I know about Kingdom Hearts is that it's nigh-impossible to explain (or UNDERSTAND) its plotline, and apparently there's important plot beats in games which practically nobody has played and might not even be accessible any more.

Thus, this is a test of my ability to bullshit. Can I make up something plausible enough quickly enough that I don't get suspected? Because my only chance of success here is to claim that I'm explaining the Complicated Stuff, where the other person is likely to buy it (or at least not believe that it's incorrect) even if they're already a KH fan.

In my favour, there's the fact that I naturally speak quickly and jump between topics seemingly at random, so it's NORMAL for people to not be able to follow what I'm saying. So that wouldn't tip someone off if they already know me, AND it'll make it easier to hide any lapses or slips. In my... whatever's the opposite of "favour" in this context, there's the fact that I barely know the relevant vocabulary, and "whatsit" and "thinger" can only go so far before people start to suspect that you don't actually know the word at all, which is a problem when it's like, basic enemy types, or major story beats. And also I'm just plain not good at improv, I tend to either break off and stare off into space, or burst into giggles.

If you give me a few minutes to prepare (which I'd do by skimming the TV Tropes page), I'm like 80% that I could leave a casual KH fan (or someone who's really into just the gameplay aspect of it) thinking that I suck as a conversational partner, but not realize that I know frick-all about KH. If the other person's sole knowledge of Kingdom Hearts is that it's "a game, and I think Mickey is there", I could seem like an expert, no doubt about it, wouldn't even need to prepare (worst case scenario, I start describing something from that fic I'd read, but it's not like they know enough about Kingdom Hearts to say that that's NOT what happened in canon). If the other person has roughly the same level of knowledge as me, and I'm not allowed to prepare, the second-greatest risk (the FIRST-greatest is my aforementioned problems with improv) is if they ask me something because they're not sure about it, and my bullshitted answer happens to contradict one of the things they DO actually know from osmosis.

First off, spin this wheel.

You just landed on one of 200 fandoms that have been very popular somewhere on Tumblr over the years. Topics were chosen either from appearing on a @fandom end-of-year recap or from my own long (long, long) site memories before that.

also all of these fandoms are definitely things that really exist in the real world and none of them are Tumblr creations

[toothfa-1-ry]

LOVE THEORY 101

Tw: dead dove do not eat,manipulating, gaslighting, torture (ig but not in details), just messed up af

Husband! Salesman x wife!reader

Your scared.

Terrified actually and yet you still plant a soft kiss on your husband's cheek before he goes of to work, like you always did every single day without fail

He bends down slightly for you to be comfortable, a smile gracing his handsome features which you observe as he breaks away, whispering you a soft "goodbye" before he walks out of your house

You notice the way his smile never really reaches his eye, the way it vanishes immediately the second he's not facing you but you know better to question him

He likes it when you obey him, nodding to his evey word silently, soaking up his instructions. He likes how you don't question him,

Atleast not anymore

No, he demands that you don't question him

To be really honest, you and your husband never really got married, even if you did who would show up?

By law, the both of you were wedded as a married couple, the both of you signed the marriage contract, followed by a gentle kiss and some not very gentle ones

In theory your husband was perfect

He was gentle, slowly guiding you whenever the both of you went out, his hand on your lower back or his hand gently resting on your hips

Gently brushing your hair back whenever it got in the way, making patterns on your skin while you layed in bed next to him

He was sweet, whenever people saw the both of you in public they would gush, sometimes faces painted with envy, sometimes faces painted with joy upon seeing such a pure love

Young highschool couples gazing at the both of you while the girl would excitedly whisper to her boyfriend, saying that was what she wanted them to be in the future

Or old couples approaching the both of you, telling the both of you to stay happy and to hold on to eachother, they swear that young people these days don't know how to love eachother but says that the both of you were proving then otherwise.

He was wealthy too, and he made no efforts of hiding the fact. Buying you whatever you said you wanted- no he bought you things that you didn't even say you want. Even the smallest thing you glanced at was soon in the mercy of your palms, the receipt thrown away promptly

He even bought you your dream house, the very one you dreamed of having when you were a teenager, your teenage scrapbook filled with pictures of celebrity houses or pictures of houses from magazines, next to the pictures a lengthy description of how the house would look like

He made sure whatever you owned was perfect. Too perfect infact, it made your skin shiver

He strived for perfection, he expected it too

He was handsome, so very handsome. The first time you saw him you were left speechless, the air inside the room leaving you gasping, his dark eyes, smootly combed back hair and his smile. Oh god the smile that was etched in his face

His face

You could never forget it even if you tried too

Your a good wife too, in theory, atleast you think. Your husband might argue and say that you were perfect.

Always waking up early to pack him his lunch, making him his morning cup of coffee just the way he liked it

No sugar, no milk, just pure pure, hot black liquid in his cream coloured cup which it contrasted against

Helping him wear his suit, a white plain shirt accompanied with a grey or dark blue blazer and pants, the usual colour he sported

You'd stand infront of him, inbetween his legs as you combed his hair back, gelled and slick. You knew how exactly he did his hair, how he liked it done

Never forgetting to bade him goodbye as he left for work, kissing him on his cheek, still wearing your apron, sometimes the kiss would linger for a second or two before you'd pull away

He likes that too

And when he comes back home, tired after a long day at work, you don't ask him what he does, you don't know the answer to it either but your smart enough not to mention it, you simply ask him how was his day with a smile on your lips

He'd simply grunt in return taking out his shoes while you'll swiftly help him with his blazer and shirt, before taking them away for washing

You always prepared dinner on time, the food layed ready on the table warm and toasty, all his favourite dishes lined up.

God, he loved it that you knew him so well, it made him go crazy, he simply glances at the table and back at you

You make him go crazy, he is crazy

After dinner he'd make love to you,

but that wasn't love, no love doesn't feel like that, you think

Infact it was closer to hate, desire, craving. It was closer to obsession, it was the farthest thing to love

But what would you know about love?

Only a person who loves you would take care of you the way your husband did. Only a person who loves you would take someone's as broken as you and marry that person, only he would tell you how much he loves you while your squirming and struggling against his touch when your pinned down by him

Only a person who loves you would spare your life

If this was what love truly felt like then you were terrified of it, but it was all you had left now

when your husband is away at work your left all alone at your house, you feel uncomfortable, fidgeting against the soft sofa

The accuracy sends a shiver down your spine while your eyes traced the corners of the walls, the exact colour, exact descriptions

This truly was the house of your dreams, living in it also felt like a dream except you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not

You turn on the washing machine, sorting out the different colours of clothes when your eye spies on a pile in the corner

You notice them as your husband's

You pick it up, your hands against the fabric, before you can stop yourself you take a sniff of it

Expensive perfume, a little bit of sweat and suddenly your taken back by a disgusting smell, you gagg, bile raising in your mouth as you turn away from the jacket, dropping it on the ground

You look down at your hands and there's an unmistakable red painting them

Blood

Something goes quiet inside you, you could only hear the soft rumble of the washing machine as you stared at your hand

You bend down, turning over the jacket as you held your breath, there it was, a bloodstained corner and something inside of you told you that it wasnt your husband's blood

You think, why didn't i notice this before? Why didn't I say anything to him before?

But you did. You did notice it. You notice the bloodstains he brought home everyday after he comes back from work but every day you don't say anything and the next day when your washing his clothes you ask yourself why you didn't notice it, why you didn't question him

You gaslight yourself into feeling better about yourself, you are better than him aren't you? Your not like him, your a good person.

You are

You are a good person, so why were you forcing yourself to believe it

Little do you know, After you wash his clothes, scrubbing and scrubbing the bloodstain away with your own hands cause the machine doesn't do it justice

After you iron it, and fold it, keeping it neatly, your husband would throw it away, all with a gleam in his eyes

He doesn't wear clothes tainted by other people, but he finds it amusing, how you, his sweet wife would not say anything to him about it

How you would mumble to yourself, gaslighting yourself into ignoring everything, telling yourself whatever it is you mutter to yourself to make you feel better about yourself, your moral compass and your ethic judgement

He knows he has ruined it all, he has ruined you, but seeing you cling on such a belief that your still pure, fuck that turns him on so much

Every day he pushes you, he pushes the last bit of humanity out of you and it works. He sees the way you choose to ignore how messed up he is, he sees you justifying yourself for staying with him

It makes him so happy, you make him so happy

And so he gives you whatever you want, anything you so far glance at. He can afford it, his dirty money, the one stained in his victims blood can afford it atleast

He makes sure everything is to your liking, your house, your apartment, he knows every single thing about you, it makes goosebumps appear in his skin, he has so much power and information over you

He knows you think he's handsome, don't think he didn't see your face when you first saw him.

The way your eyes widened and your chest rose, the air inside the room stripping away in a mili second

He shot your friends right infront of you, I guess they were you friends atleast

Your eyes filled with tears while you tried to look away, his hands tightly gripping yours, pulling your closer to him, him and the gun in his other hand

He leaves you gasping, groaning, screaming, it makes him want to hear it even more

Your eyes search for any amount of pity or guilt in his dark eyes, but it's pitch black dark, the white surrounding his eyes contrasting against his iris

His hair, which was smoothly slicked back was now slightly messy and frayed, few of his strands sticking out, covering his forehead which was scrunched with excitement, completly enthralled while yours was filled with terror

He coos at you, poking the gun inside your mouth, telling you that the odds of you living are 1 to 6, changing the entire trajectory of the game

He tells you russian roulette is more fun when played this way

He pulls the trigger, you wince, shutting your eyes tightly, i want to live please, you think- no you beg

A shot comes out, you feel smoke in your mouth but your still alive, your heart beat still beating swiftly, your head throbbing, your tears cascading down your face but your still alive

"The chances of your survival was 1 to 6, you getting your head blown to bits was 5 to 6" he says, the gun lingers at the tip of your lips before it slowly exits your mouth and thats when you see it

The most scariest thing you've ever seen in your life, more scarier than your friends getting shot infront of your eyes, more scarier than the gun, more scarier than the dark look in his eyes when he shoved the gun in your mouth

The man infront of you smiles, his lips stretch and widen, there's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before but that seems more dangerous to you, more horrifying than staring at his soulless black eyes

"You survived" he murmured, his voice beyond a whisper but you could still hear the excitement dripping down every syllable "good job"

He kisses you, you don't expect it to be so soft and tender, your hands are still behind your back, you thrash against his touch

"You beat all the odds" he murmured

Just like him

You beat all the odds, his precious sweet wife

Another reason why he likes you, your husband recollects while entering the house after a long day at work

And now, your welcoming the man who killed all your friends, who almost killed you with so much tenderness in your voice

Your broken

He likes the fact that it was because of him

He smiles when you help him remove his jacket, leading him into the dining room, he holds your hand, pressing his body against yours

"Sweetheart" he touches your lips and you freeze. You've seen that smile before

"let's play a game"

[thanosscross]

Thief of your money, and thief of your heart - Choi Su-Bong/Thanos x reader + Twin brother! Nam-Gyu part 1

Summary: Growing up with Nam-Gyu as an idiot twin and his idiot best friend was difficult, especially knowing you had feelings for your brother's best friend, until they ended up pulling you into the crypto scam somehow resulting in you leaving them behind, not knowing in a few short weeks you'd be trapped with them playing for money and your life

Warnings: None really other than the fight scene with player 333 which you take part in

Growing up with an older twin brother had to be your punishment from a past life, both him and his obnoxious friends were your personal hell, because of your family's financial situation, whenever you both turned twenty they helped you get an apartment together, now even though you hated your older brother, Nam Gyu, with a passion, you occasionally felt bad for him, so whenever you got enough money to finally get your own place, you stayed. Your biggest mistake? Leaving your wallet out for them to access one night, your brother sending you thousands of wons in debt.

You left not too long after that, choosing to live with your friend rather than your brother, at that point you hated even having the same last name as him. After you left it took two days before Thanos was blowing your phone up, asking if you were okay, calling his best friend an idiot, you never answered though, feeling as if Thanos was partially at fault for your brothers actions, he was the one who showed Nam-gyu that stupid dalmatian crypto site.

You never took yourself as the person to play games for money, but whenever the man told you it'd be enough to cover your debts and more, you were compelled, knowing this might be a sign from the universe to start trying again. As you woke up in the room you were sadly mistaken, seeing the familiar stupid faces of your brother and friend, of course they'd be here too, they were idiots. As you slowly climbed down the bunk beds you looked around at how many people were actually here, seeing numbers as high as 456. Thanos cheered seeing his best friend, Nam-Gyu, rushing over he hugged his friend, confident that they'd win now.

As they followed through the picture taking process, Nam-Gyu couldn't help but notice the familiar h/c and style of his sister, his heart dropping as he pointing you out to Thanos and he confirmed. Walking onto the field you looked around, determined to beat those assholes so you can have some sort of revenge against them. Thanos walked through, his and Nam-Gyu's eyes quickly falling onto your frame trying to hide behind somebody, ignoring the crazy ass man shouting something about dying, more concerned with why you had disappeared. You were quick to take notice of the two men advancing on you, forcing you to dive deeper into the crowd hoping to lose them, as the game began you were a little more confident you had lost them until you heard gunshots and a familiar voice calling 'tag' in a taunting tone. "Y/n" You heard a harsh tone snap from behind you as the doll turned it's head to face everybody calling red light "What're you doing here? It's not fucking safe" Your twin brother's voice seethed as you clenched your already formed fists, as soon as greenlight was called you were quick to take off, running away from your brother not wanting to be bothered by him. For a moment you felt like a kid again playing tag, Running away from Nam-Gyu and Su-Bong as they both tried to catch you, trying to torture you with some weird bug or gross thing they found, As you sprinted forward, Nam-gyu was quick behind you, Thanos, high off his high skipped down the field as he leaped into the air, tapping his heels in the air before freezing again whenever redlight was closed.

This time you were frozen behind your brother, your hand holding the back of his jacket, under false impressions that you were scared, Nam-gyu leaned more into your touch, resulting in you pulling him onto the sand in anger, going to rush past him but you stopped to look at him "Leave me alone. And tell him to leave me alone, I want nothing to do with either of you" You snapped before taking off, using your speed to leap over the line right as red light was called, you winced as you felt your palms and chin come in contact with the ground. Laying there for a moment to process exactly where the pain you felt was you noticed a looming shadow behind you "Nam-Gyu" You growled turning around ready to kick your brother in the shin before you stopped, his best friend stood a few feet in front of you, offering you a hand. "What to do you want" You asked harshly, trying to stay angry at Su-Bong while he was in front of you was hard, growing up with him you saw exactly what he went through, seeing his confused sad face you started to feel guilty for ignoring him, he wasn't the one you stole your wallet, he just showed your brother the stupid youtube channel and website.

"Senorita, Let Thanos the great help you" He smirked, crossing his arms after you pulled yourself to your feet, yea nevermind, you hated him again after that line. You rolled your eyes as you turned away "I do not ever want your help again" You replied flipping him off as you watched the other players rush to the end, as the time got closer to 00:00 you were getting nervous, watching your brother still struggling to get across the field, with every person that got shot running next to him the more time he'd take before he started running again, as soon as you glanced and saw a minute left you huffed walking past the purple haired high man that was desperately trying to get you to respond to his flirting. Rushing back onto the field you saw your brother's glare that was directed towards you, you didn't care though, as much as you hated him sometimes, you still cared about him..sometimes. Taking his hand in yours you gave him a reassuring squeeze "As soon as it's greenlight?" You asked giving him a nervous glance, Nam-Gyu wanted to drop to his knees and just get eliminated now, but as you came rushing back grabbing his hand he knew he had to get you back to the safety of the end of the field, he made a promise whenever you both moved out to make sure you were taken care of, and while he might've fucked up big time, he still intended on keeping that promise.

Whenever the speakers announced greenlight you pulled your brother's hand in yours, making sure he kept up with you as you ran, glancing at the timer you felt yourself start to panic, you were still on redlight and you only had ten seconds left with about 30 feet of field to clear still. Noticing your panicked state Thanos started to think, trying to get you both to run faster than you ever had, that's whenever it dawned on him, as the doll called greenlight Su-bong was quick to jump up to the front of the crowd, standing on the edge of the line "Guys!! Wasps!" He shouted loudly, watching as you let go of your brothers hand taking off, Nam-gyu quick behind you as he lifted you up over his shoulder as he ran past, slamming into his friend as he crossed the line with you into safety.

As you approached the doors to leave, your brother's hand was quick to catch your wrist "Y/n?.." He whispered, you just offered him a empathetic smile before walking off shaking your head, just because you helped him doesn't mean you forgave him or wanted to speak to you. Walking into the giant rooms the two men were still hot on your trail, refusing to leave your side, as you sat down you watched as Su-Bong demanded for your brother to get your guys' dinner, once you were alone he turned to you "Y/n..I've been trying to apologize for weeks now" He frowned resting a hand on your shoulder, you huffed fighting your wants, you were good at hiding it, especially with the two idiots being the people you were hiding it from, but you had a crush on Su-Bong, you had since you were teenagers and he'd try rapping cheesy lines to you through your bedroom door after you'd slam it in his face. Throughout the years of you playing hard to get, Su-Bong never gave up, he'd fuck other chicks, but that's all he'd call them 'chicks' or 'thanos' bitches' if they were overly obsessed with him, you were always 'Senorita' 'Baby' or 'my muse'. Regardless you shoved his hand off glaring at him "I'd never be in debt if it weren't for you" You snapped, shoving him back a bit, he just gave you an offended look "I didn't do anything! Your brother did! and that kid!" He shouted pointing over to a player that was trying to stay hidden on his bed, your head immediately snapped over glaring at him. Su-Bong knew he couldn't stop what was coming next as you stormed past him, Nam-Gyu caught your gaze as you stormed past him, you were determined, this guy was the entire reason you were here, that your brother was here, that Su-Bong was here.

"Hey! Cryptobitch!" You shouted as you stormed over, watching as the boy tried to move away, you were quick to cut him off, stopping him as he got to the floor, as he tried to turn the opposite direction you noticed Su-Bong stopping him walking him backwards towards you "The lady was talking to you" He snapped, Nam-Gyu quick to rush over so he could turn player 333 around to face you "yea man, it's rude to ignore a lady like that" he added on, Su-Bong quickly smacking the back of the players head "Don't you have any manners?" He snapped, you glared at him, balling up your fists before punching him clear across the jaw "That's for taking all of my money!" You shouted before throwing another punch "That's for encouraging those two idiots to lose their money to your stupid shit!" Another punch "This is for making me hate my fucking brother!" You screamed standing up, delivering a swift kid to his side before huffing "And that's for making me hate the person I loved for years!" As you panted you noticed another player approaching "Children! Let's not fight!" 001 Shouted, watching as Su-Bong and Nam-Gyu stopped their abuse on the player that scammed them out of their money for a moment "I am not! A fucking child!" You yelled marching over, ready to fight him as well before he quickly putting you in a bear hug, grabbing your wrist and shoving you away as he knocked your brother down, grabbing Su-Bong by the throat.

By the time you recovered from your fall the boys were standing up, rubbing different parts of their bodies in pain from player 001 kicking their asses. As you sat you bed glaring at 333 Su-bong made his way over to you, grabbing your jaw gently to look for any bruises or cuts "Are you okay?" He asked looking around for your brother "I'm fine, are you?" You asked, you'd be lying if you said you weren't charmed by him having your back earlier, but you wouldn't admit that, not yet, you didn't want either of them thinking you forgave them just yet, you wanted them to realize how badly they fucked up first.

You spent the last few hours before lights out using the boys' jackets to clean up any busted lips or cuts they may have gotten during the fight, never noticing the way Su-Bong looked at you the entire time, or the way he stayed up half of the night in shifts with Nam-Gyu to make sure nobody tried to fuck with you while you slept.

--

Do we like? I'm gonna try and make it to where each part is a different game, so like next will be Six legs and so on, anyways! I'm always excited to hear from you lovelies <33

--

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@heartz4rubyy

@ericityyy

@lilou-0401

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@onyxmango

@private-vampire

@corrdelia

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mdni][mlw][slight angst?][semi-public][oral f! receiving][sloppy][spitting][petnames][implied age gap][age gap is legal btw][fingering][anal fingering. no i will not apologize.][ass eating.][i won't apologise for that either]

"I had to do Damian's laundry for this so don't fuck it up."

Jason huffs, eyes narrowing at Roy as the car pulls up to the curb outside the restaurant. A cute diner, neon lights flickering over the double doors of the entrance, reading, 'fancy eat-outs' in cursive.

"Name's... A bit on the nose." Roy lets out a scoff of laughter before swallowing and glancing at Jason. There's the tiniest hint of nervousness swirling behind those leafy pools, gingery brows furrowing into a little frown.

"You're gonna do good." Jason reassures quietly, his tone soft and he places a hand on Roy's shoulder.

"I'll be on that roof," Jason motions to the building across, "listening in. It's just like a stakeout, only this time, the stakes determine whether or not you get your dick wet."

A good 20 minutes into waiting, Roy brushes his tongue across his top row of teeth, eyes glancing towards his wristwatch before he leans back in his seat. Muscular fingers card through overgrown strands of clementine, before he swallows.

"She's not coming, Jay." Roy hums quietly, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

There's the heaviest pit in his stomach, aching and uncomfortable, and it throbs with each ding of that bronze bell above the door, that indicates a new patron.

Roy feels pathetic that his eyes keep lifting to see who it is.

He's an adult. He shouldn't be going on dates in the first place. He should focus on being a vigilante, and a father, because he's good at that.

Not at dating. Not at women. Not at anything more than a one night—

"Excuse me, sir?" Your voice is a soft sound, snapping him from his pathetic daydream, and Roy glances up at you through his lashes, unable to keep the little frown from tugging at the corners of his mouth. Although, if he plays his cards and his tone right, he might just seem deeply displeased, instead of upset.

"Mhm?" Roy hums. He doesn't trust himself to talk right now.

"I don't...." You simply shake your head, a sympathetic expression on your face as you clutch the serving tray in your arms.

You've got the prettiest doe eyes, the nicest and softest lips, and he can't deny that those pretty smile lines makes him feel a little better about being stood up.

"Yeah, she's not coming." Roy concedes, letting out a deep breath and his elbows come to rest on the surface of the table, making the slightest fold in the guava coloured tablecloth and you clear your throat.

"Well... We've got a special for this?" You answer, almost sheepishly. And Roy cocks a brow.

"At the start of the new year, a lot of people try to get into relationships and... You know, not everyone's date shows up. So we've got a 'Stood Up' special." You lift the menu from the table, before flitting through the thick parchment, and showing the option.

"A meal, dessert and drink of your choice with 60% off, and you get to talk shit about your date with your server."

And Roy lets out a laugh.

It's a deep, husky rumble that makes your knees the tiniest bit weak, and makes you feel like you've been standing on your toes for an uncomfortably long period of time.

"Sure thing." Roy hums. "So you'll be my server?" He cocks his head, a charming tilt of his lips have you sweating underneath your uniform and you nod your head.

"So what would you like, sir?"

"Depends. You gonna eat with me?" Roy hums, resting his chin in the rough palm of his muscular hand and you wince.

"We're actually not allowed to eat on the job, if it's not a dessert."

Roy lets out a hum.

"Two parfaits, please. One chocolate and the other a flavour of your choice." Roy orders, emerald gaze roving over your features, committing them to memory because he's not gonna take a picture of you for his spank bank. Because that's just... Creepy.

He'll just... Look at you really hard and hope to be able to piece the pictures well enough when he needs to.

"You wanna order two parfaits? You're basically paying whole price." You state, your fingertips tapping on the thin metal tray and he corrects you. "I've got a 20% discount still."

"She sounds pretty, put in the eyepiece." Jason hisses in Roy's ear, the binoculars aren't good enough to see through the structures that seem to permanently obscure you from vision. Like you're allergic to getting spied on.

"I'm not touching my fucking eyeball in a restaurant, you freak." Roy murmurs under his breath, ignoring Jason's curses.

"Oh, like you care about germs, you filthy bastard. Your apartment would look like a dumpster if you didn't have Lian." Jason mocks.

"I will shoot you in the eye. I'm not even fucking kidding." Roy threatens, before letting out a deep breath, carding his muscular fingers through his orangey strands.

When Roy watches you slide into the seat across from him, he can't deny the way the weight lifts from his belly.

The pretty, white ruffled shirt with the pretty pastel waistcoat and a matching skirt. None of the staff wear the same colour, all just pastels. And you smile that fucking electric smile, and Roy feels his cock throb like it's never throbbed before.

His hand cups himself beneath the table, in a poor attempt to ease his ache but he can't even hide the way his breath hitches at the way you carefully slide that decorative silver spoon into his parfait.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Over the entire course of the 'date', Roy's eyes can't leave you. He might just die if they do because God, you're perfect.

He loves the way your mouth forms words, he likes the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh at something, the way the apples of your cheeks turn rosy when he compliments your smile.

God.

You're adorable.

"How'd you meet this girl?" You question, and the softness of your voice shows that you're still the tiniest bit sympathetic.

"She's... A teaching assistant at my buddy's brother's school. So... I did a bit of networking to get her number." Roy explains, eyes glancing towards your expression as he slowly lifts a spoonful of sweet creaminess to his lips, and shoves it in, making sure to flick his tongue against the edge of the spoon.

Your mouth forms a little 'o' shape and you mimic his action, a spoonful of ice cream cooling your tongue.

You take the moment of eating to really... Drink him in. Pretty, dark lashes, leafy green eyes with flecks of gold and blue, the faintest freckles dusted over his cheeks and that sexy scar right at his jaw. He's shaved. Freshly. But the nick on his chin suggests that it's the first time in a while, but he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who'd have a full-on beard.

Maybe a 5 o'clock shadow.

You don't think too hard before you speak again.

"You wanna key her car?" You question, almost teasingly but there's the cutest glint of mischief in your eyes that make him damn near soak through his boxers.

"I'm gonna come off as a psychotic asshole." Roy snorts. "Even if it is well-deserved."

"Then I'll do it." You shrug your shoulders, unable to hide the twitch at the corners of your mouth when Roy lets out that boyish yet husky laugh.

"I'm not above keying someone's car." You add. "Or even stealing tires. Or gas."

"Wow." Roy snickers.

"You're really, uh... Really something else."

Batman works hard.

But Roy works harder.

Fingers thrust in your mouth, your legs spread almost sinfully wide as Roy's tongue drags wet, sloppy strokes against your cunt, flicking at the hood of your clit. Emerald eyes peer up at you over your mound and hiked up skirt and your expression makes him harder than anything.

Eyes rolling back in your head, brows pinched into a little frown and your wet, flushed lips wrapped around his middle and ring finger, the feel of your tongue against the pads of his digits.

You're trying so hard to keep quiet.

And he has to ruin that.

You let out a low moan, pornographic sound strewn together in a cacophony that bounces off the tiled walls and glinting floors and reaching his ears.

Roy's two digits scissor inside your gummy walls, his tongue working against your pebbled clit as his fingers give lazy strokes, curling against that spongy spot that makes your toes curl.

Manicured fingers thread through his hair, strands of clementine and orange slip from your grasp like shredded silk and he moans at the way your nails brush against his scalp in that sweet way.

Like you're massaging conditioner into his head.

"That's it, pretty girl. Come on my fingers and tongue." He groans. "Use me to feel good."

You moan around his fingers, teeth nearly leaving indentations in the skin as you cum, thighs pressing against his ears, and he hears your blood rush. Your pulse thrumming against his ears, and your body twitching and hips bucking.

He laps at you like a thirsty man.

Throat parched and only you can wash down the bullshit that life's been shoving down his mouth for the past few years.

Roy pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean before he gently flips you over.

Your toes meet the tiles, your tummy pressed against the chilly counter of the bassinet and your cheek presses against the coolness of the mirror.

Hot breaths fog up your reflective image and for the shortest moment, you watch the way Roy palms the flesh of your ass. Globes fill his calloused palms and you barely realise what's going on when he guides your leg to rest along the counter.

"Keep that there for me, beautiful."

Roy's thumb is pushed into your messy pussy, slowly fucking the pudgy digit into your hole, just to get the interior of it. Before he fucks. Hard.

"God, you're so fucking messy." The squelchy sounds are louder than your muffled moans and you let out a sluttiest gasp, looking over your shoulder at Roy as his tongue slides over your puckered entrance.

He taunts the hole, his left hand resting on your tailbone and his thumb teasing the start of the cleft of your ass, before his tongue drags up.

All the way to your tailbone and back down.

His right hand's fingers brush and tease at your clit, his left hand moves lower and he thumbs at your asshole, spitting messy globs of spit at the hole before licking it back up.

You feel like a dirty whore.

A man you don't even know is licking at your holes like a rabid animal, trying to commit your tastes to memory and he tilts his head.

Before pulling back.

"Let me see that pretty hole, angel." Roy coaxes you sweetly, watching as your hands move to spread the plushy globes, exposing yourself even more and he groans.

His cock is scraping against his zipper, leaking precum into his boxers and down his thighs, but he doesn't feel like he should fuck you yet.

At least not on your first date.

You're not some whore.

"Fuck, that's it, gorgeous."

Roy is fucking hypnotised, one hand fucking and adoring your leaky cunt, while the other hand fucks your virgin ass. You're tight at both ends, lips pursed into the cutest frown, hot breaths fogging and steaming up the mirror and your toes curl.

Your cunt trickles all while your orgasm builds, wetness and slippery mess dripping down your inner thighs.

You've never been like this before.

Roy pulls his thumb out of your cunt, spitting at your cunt and spitting on his digits, before three thick fingers fuck into your hole at a god-like pace. While he dips his head lower, tongue out and ready.

You whine and mewl, feeling so full and so good until your knees buckle and you shake.

Thighs shudder and shake, and your muffle your scream in your shoulder as you cum, spurting your messy and slick juices all over Roy's awaiting tongue.

He doesn't waste. Not a single drop as he swallows everything you give him, droplets dribbling down his chin and wetting the collar of his crew neck.

Roy pulls away, pressing a kiss to the flesh of your ass before straightening up and looking at you.

Back arched like a cat, pussy and ass messy with lovebites and spit and he groans, palming himself through his jeans.

"Fuck, I should've brought a condom." Roy groans under his breath, his body nearly melting at the way you look at him through bleary eyes, lips wet and raw from being bitten.

"Don't you trust your pull-out game?" You question, a shaky breath leaving your lungs burning like you've ran a marathon.

"I've got a kid, gorgeous. My pull-out game's as reliable as a knitted condom."

—♱—

Pulling back an arrow, Roy releases the end, watching as the wood thwips through the air, wind pushing it even closer before the metal pierces the target.

"Target neutralised." Roy speaks into the earpiece, his voice low.

"Good job, gorgeous." Jason responds and it feels like Roy's world comes crashing down around him before he lets out a low, disturbed and embarassed groan.

"Yeahhhhhh." Jason snorts. "You didn't turn off the earpiece."

[lesbianherald]

Hi! Just curious. What exactly is that you didn't like about Viktor's arc? I've seen a few people saying the same thing and idk if I'm missing something or I'm just too over the moon about him that my brain has gone smooth haha.

oh no oh no i'm probably going to write like a whole dissertation about this I am so sorry I'm literally cracking my knuckles I have so many thoughts and not all of them I'll even get to articulate here.

Saying this upfront: you aren't smooth-brained for disagreeing with me or liking it. I want to say that outright as I'm a very opinionated person and I am going to state my very strong opinions very plainly.

That being said : I genuinely feel like season 2 needed like... character writing 101 for a lot of these characters, especially the two characters whose names start with a 'V'. I'm so serious if one of my students brought in a story like this, I would (gently) take it apart.

If you don't want to read the whole thing I'm about to unleash, the crux of it is this for me:

Throughout the course of the season, it's very hard to discern how many of Viktor's decisions are his own. He lacks the baseline autonomy that's necessary for satisfying development. The magic of the hexcore becomes a shiny distraction that makes meaningful development impossible. Additionally, season 2 forgets so many of the themes and threads they explored with Viktor in season one explicitly in terms of class and his position on war and weapons manufacturing.

And, like almost everything in season 2, these issues are compounded because his story is done at a pace that's completely lightning-fast and prioritizes the wrong things.

Here's my thesis:

How Does a Man Like Viktor Become the Machine Herald? Arcane's Answer: Magic orb or vague sadness or something idk.

Harry Lloyd said in a season 1 commentary somewhere that one of the main appeals for Viktor is knowing who he is in the game and wondering how you take a man like him, who is so kind and has people's best interests at heart, and see him slowly become the machine herald.

I agree 100% that this is part of the story's appeal for players. And it would be a delight and surprise for non-players.

We... get that very juicy premise ripped from us. We don't see him making decisions grounded in the character they set up in season 1 at all, really. And its very unsatisfying seeing him be rendered a mere victim of circumstance with vague attachments to his past self.

This is not necessarily a complaint about arcane herald vs machine herald (I did not play league and am not attached to the lore) but a complaint that a lot of what happens with Viktor in season 2 seems very unattached to his psychology.

Christian Linke himself said (and I forget where, so I am sorry if I'm paraphrasing terribly) that part of the question he wanted the audience to ask with Viktor is how much of this is really him? Bluntly. That is incredibly silly. It's such an important question that it makes all other interesting questions one might have about him really hard to parse.

That's not compelling. That's a mistake. That's not rooted in character anymore but a vague magical orb.

Here are some questions that would have been more interesting for us to ask, Christian.

How does his desire to tamper out human emotion prompt him to do the unspeakable? What leads him there?

How far is he willing to go to take away human pain and suffering?

Is his version of pacifism really, in actuality, a form of violence?

Will his connection with others be enough to bring him back to his humanity? (this is a question we were not prompted to ask, and if we were, it would have made the final scene (which I love regardless) a lot more satisfying.

What is the root of his hunger for power? How much of his quest is a hunger for power and control over others (rooted in a fractured and tragic sense of self)? and how much is it rooted in his desire to help? Where is that line?

Any of these questions or any other questions we could enjoy exploring with Viktor become tampered with and weakened by the fact that a vague magical entity is controlling him in a vague and unrelatable way.

In short, 'How much of Viktor is still Viktor?' is a far less interesting question than. 'how is Viktor going to act, change, and learn? ' We are forced to ask the first at the cost of the second. He clearly is not fully himself this season.

The Dropping of Themes and Traits

Season 1's exploration of Viktor was multi-layered and fascinating. I feel like we got to see the establishment of a kind-hearted, sometimes awkward yet quite funny, passionate scientist.

I don't feel we see much of any of this in season 2. The stupid fucking orb overrides a lot of the traits we've come to know and love. This would have been cool if done with an ounce of care, understanding, or autonomy.

In season 1, we see Viktor in a position of powerlessness over and over. We see Viktor ignored and looked down upon by those in power both for his disability and, crucially, for his status as a Zaunite.

We're introduced to him as someone who is desperate to prove himself and carve a place for himself. He knows he's brilliant. And he knows he can help people with that big brain of his. That's all he wants. And he wants to make his mark (something I theorize is rooted in his loneliness as well as his ambition)

(Side note: I find a lot of the debate on whether or not Viktor is insecure a little silly because you can be both confident and insecure. He's incredibly secure in his abilities as a scientist, but I fully do believe he places all his worth on his work because he's not as confident in other places - represented visually by him trying to point out his boat when Sky is looking at him in the flashback. A 'don't look at me look at what I've made' type thing.)

Anyways. Viktor is willing to risk his position as an assistant and, honestly, his position at the academy and in Piltover as a whole to help Jayce. This is not just because he's 'lol so chaotic' or whatever. This is actually quite calculated. He knows he will get nowhere in Piltovian society without bending rules, because Piltover was not built for people like him.

"Do you think it was my life's ambition to be an assistant?"

But even in taking that huge step for himself, his new role is complicated.

We see him sit through meetings where his people are talked about like burdens. We see his closest (and honestly only) ally and partner speak over him in meetings and overrule his desires and wants when it comes to the future of hextech in massive ways. We see Jayce call all Zaunites 'dangerous' (I love jayce... don't shoot me please. But we do often forget that this does canonically happen and what makes Jayce so incredible is that he grows from this point)

The moment on the bridge directly causes him not to tell Jayce about what he's doing to himself. Jayce apologizing right after doesn't matter so much as it reinforces one of Viktor's fears: he is alone.

We see his illness, !!!!caused by Piltover's oppression!!!!, take over. We see him and Jayce grow apart. We see the way his loneliness impacts his desperation and the way his desperation impacts his loneliness and we see the way he's so damn afraid and just wants to live. We see how much he wants to help people, and how even though he's tried so hard he never got to achieve that because the limits of this society just don't allow for it.

Season 1 Act one is Viktor taking action for himself. season 1 Acts 2 and 3 are a brutal reminder that no matter how hard he works. No matter how hard he claws. He will always be who he is. And that makes him Powerless in this society. I honestly find it a really compelling storyline in terms of the 'bootstrap theory' and debunking that - but a different topic for a different time!

At the end of the season, he's able to gain a huge amount of power - speaking at the council about freeing his city - through Jayce's platforming and allyship. But at the end of the day it doesn't matter, because what the council is doing is too little too late - people in Zaun are too tired and too hurt - and he gets caught in the crossfire.

Despite all this, Season 2 does not engage with Viktor's being a Zaunite outside of the fact that he returns to Zaun first. But the themes explored related to class and power are gone - as they are with everyone else really.

It makes sense to me that one of the first things Viktor would do when granted a new body and new power would be to go and try to help people in Zaun, but the ambiguous mechanisms of the magic inside him, the immediate divorce with Jayce, and the bizarre way he goes about it don't make this land.

And even the return is rendered sort of meaningless. Where is the personal connection to this place? Why are we given no details related to his past here? Why doesn't he return to somewhere more personal for him?

He speaks in this cold, unaffected monotone. This healing ability seems to be the 'recursive impulse' - so him finally getting to help people just like he wanted feels rooted so much in the arcane influence it becomes murky and strange.

This is more nitpicky, and I'd be okay with it being ignored in the right context - but another aspect of his character that gets dropped is his work as a scientist. His desire to help people not through magic, but through invention. This would have been fascinating. (They try to keep this alive through vague allusions to 'look at what I've created' blah blah but again, so much of it is all ORB)

What inventions would a fully autonomous Viktor who decided to leave Jayce and return to Zaun of his own fruition create? Would they toe the line between inventions of progress and inventions of destruction?

Guess we'll never know!

Speaking of weapons. Let's talk about weapons. Let's talk about Viktor's vehement opposition to weapons not being explored within the context of his relationship with Jayce or outside of the rule that there are none allowed in the commune - which becomes quite meaningless when he agrees to work with Ambessa. Yes - he saw those blueprints on the table. But that's all we get.

Also, the fact that Jayce just unquestionably builds hextech weapons in the finale, and they're used as a good thing and a way to fight off Noxus, makes me want to claw my own hair out. Like - my themes ! Not my precious themes !

Let's also talk about him working with Ambessa. There's no build-up to that decision, not near enough character work to make that believable and considering the way the plot is written elsewhere, I fully believe this is a huge part of the problem of the writer's room dropping the issue of class. The idea that Viktor, the character that they set up, would ever willingly work with Ambessa is laughable. There are so many other ways he could have gotten to the hexcore in his fully evolved form, easily bested Jayce, and evolved. And they did absolutely nothing in the writing of season 2 to make that an interesting or satisfying choice.

An arc is only an arc if there is substance between point a and b. There's no substance here. There's vague orb. There are little glimpses of the pain he's in because of his separation from Jayce. Teeny tiny allusions to him trying to shut down his emotions. That's simply not enough.

You cannot bring a character who values choice and autonomy, whose been made to feel so powerless and is empathetic, to "choice is meaningless" without a deep study of his psychology and pain. Viktor taking away the autonomy of others, inhabiting their bodies. Being super chill with it. Okay. Coo.

Where does his desire for evolution even come from? For real? Because they seem to mistake Viktor's ambition with his desire for perfection, which is something that was never really... brought up? It could be believable that he felt this way. But where were the signs of this? Not just in season 1 but in season 2. He always wanted to help, not make humanity perfect. Because this is grounded in so little emotional logic I assume we're supposed to be satisfied with the idea that magic orb + machine herald form = ??? this ??? like ??? why???

If he wants to create a world where nobody can feel pain or complex emotions of any sort anymore, which is not psychologically where he was at the end of season 1 at all despite all he went through, you have to give us an event (ideally multiple) in season 2 that could break his mind this badly. Jayce killing him could have been this, but it happened so fast and was executed so impersonally that it doesn't work. He doesn't really acknowledge it happened the next time they see each other. Which... would probably be important to do... again emotional logic where?

His entire speech about humanity at the end of episode 6 feels like it's trying to be a catalyst. But it also feels... incredibly generic and impersonal. It felt written to play over a flashy montage of all the other characters fighting. Not for Viktor. If this was Viktor's moment where he finally snaps, we should probably focus on Viktor. And, of course, it doesn't help that he has this odd monotone this whole time, as if he's not fully in control of himself (this is not a rip on Harry Lloyd at all. He did what he was told and did it very, very well.)

Because remember. They wanted us to ask this. They wanted us to ask how much of this was orb. I think because they knew on some level they could not create a compelling enough story to get viktor where they wanted him to be for some reason without orb. That none of this would make sense without the vague spice of the arcane. And guess what it still doesn't.

Becuase people will not relate to a vague arcane influence. Connect to it. We would want to see what actually in his life made him become this. What in his psychology outside of magic orb made him do this? They provide vague tastes of this in the same way La Croix flavors its drinks.

Brought Back Wrong Can Work: Here's Why This One Didn't

I also really hate the trope of killing off characters only to bring them back. And back again. And... again. Because guess what. It takes one of the core elements of the human experience - death- and cheapens it. This for sure happens with Viktor the second time he dies.

But what i do like about bringing someone back from the dead is when you consider how doing so can bring someone back wrong. Or changed.

But because the orb is so impersonal. So bland. Such a vague sinister force that has very little to do with character, it doesn't... work. It doesn't hit. Viktor doesn't really grapple with being brought back from the dead against his will in a meaningful way.

Timing

You can see concepts of a plan, if you will, within this story. I can see how Viktor would naturally go to the undercity after waking up changed with new healing powers. But it happens way to fast. So bizarrely. I can see how he would build a society like this (of course, the power of that is dulled because orb and by the fact that we don't see it happen). I can see how the pain of being rejected and left behind by the only person who made him feel like he wasn't alone (Jayce) could have lead to a category 5 'make me evil' sort of meltdown.

Becoming the Herald, asking Singed to begin the transformation, is the only true time in this show in act 2 (before his final moments) where it feels like he's making a choice for himself. But again, we get so little time with him. To see his emotions. To elegantly point from that moment with Jayce to Viktor's need to transform and in doing so rid himself of emotion (something that they did not expand on enough ) Like oh my god, how much more satisfying would it have been to see Viktor torn apart by his own emotions - in his own viktor way - and to have singed offer him a way out of his pain - and then have viktor take it. There are certain things that should be obvious.

But It's both the timing of and the structure of the story - how quickly we cut between plotlines - that makes this really hard to follow. That makes moments that could be something feel rushed and sloppy.

Let's Talk about Sky

Viktor's guilt over sky was absolutely reasonable to explore, but it was not.... all that haunted him. To make Sky the sole guide/companion to him in the astral/arcane headspace I found to be a bizarre and honestly kind of offensive choice.

Amanda overton said she was used as a "Jayce substitute" essentially. And... why? Literally why. Why would you write a character whose sole deal is having an unrequited crush on a man only to bring her back to be 'the embodiment of his guilt and loneliness' as well as a 'substitute' - it feels... icky to me? Just in a writing women and especially women of color point of view? And it didn't feel true to Viktor's character either.

I think if we actually got to know sky better in season 1, this would have worked because it would have been obvious how different she was, how she was a product of his mind or the hexcore or whatever (the lore being vague here doesn't help...)

Plot Twist because I keep hating on Orb: They Could Have Made The Orb Really Cool

Here's the thing. Magic influence on its own can be used to write extremely compelling plots. Walk with me.

Imagine Viktor wakes up. Immediately knows something's wrong with him. That something inside him is toying with him. Making him see things (visions of not only sky, but maybe his parents, Jayce, Heimer). He wakes up earlier in act 1. Despite his anger, he stays with jayce in order to better understand himself and his powers. All the while, he is haunted by whispers and visions of the hexcore. What if it whispers to him of his own insecurities and failures?

What if Things with Jayce are tense. Jayce has to admit to making weapons again, in an argument leading to more haunting visions from the hexcore offering him an out: emotional numbness. You would never have to feel again Viktor. If you let me in fully, you would never have to be alone again. You'd be more powerful, Viktor.

Imagine Viktor is there during that attack ambessa orchestrated. That he has the horror of witnessing Jayce wield his hammer in a genuine attempt to defend himself and the people he loves. He sees first hand how hextech is being used for destruction in a way that horrifies him.

Imagine him being accused of being a part of it because he's a Zaunite - humiliated in some way. Publicly. Imagine the emotional trauma of this resulting in a falling out so devastating he embraces his visions of the hexcore - gives into the numbness. And only then leaves. With the hexcore... he feels better than he has in years. He hopes he can give the gift of this to others. Now he is under orb influence, but now the way he's gotten there is more satisfying to me at least.

Now imagine him fighting the orb influence in key moments. Imagine the color in his eyes coming back. Imagine Viktor's relationship with the arcane being more of a dance than a vague entanglement. Imagine its influence haunting him in the same way Jinx's visions haunt her. Imagine it being personal rooted in his character.

Old Man Viktor

Listen. I am the old man Viktor connoisseur. I love him. I love the idea of him. I wrote a whole fic about him, during which I had to spend a lot of time with the story. It's sort of... very much impossible to make much sense of?

I'm not mad at the fact that it's an obvious retcon. Honestly, because I think from a storytelling perspective, it worked a lot better than most of the decisions they made this season.

But I'm not a fan of (shocking) how little time we spend with him. How little chance we get to understand his motivatons. And also. What the fuck he said to Jayce to make Jayce's first line of action killing him? In my fic, I made it that Jayce needed to shoot Viktor to get the hexcore out, so he could communicate to viktor without influence. But that felt like heavy lifting I shouldn't necessarily have to do for something so important. It also doesn't feel like a compelling or satisfying question to make your audience have to wrestle with.

The Final Scene

Want to say upfront I am not one of the people who did not like Jayce's speech.

I was quite moved by it. And aside from the perhaps out of place mention of the illness brought on by Piltover which I can understand the criticism for, I felt it was beautiful. (I am disabled btw)

That being said. I think i'd be a sobbing mess on the floor if the themes Jayce is presenting in his speech were more present throughout season 2. Because we really don't see this enough - the desire for perfection.

I'm also not one of those people who thinks Viktor's insecurities weren't present in season 1. To me, they were and were obvious, but not enough in his motivations and actions in season 2 to make Jayce's speech land like it could.

I really loved Jayce's arc in season 2. Him immediately embracing Viktor after he woke from the goo was surprising but felt right. But I wish they had more genuine conflict rooted in their conflict in season 1 that would allow their final moment to land even harder.

I really liked the final scene, and it made me an emotional mess. But weirdly, I'd almost like it as a short film removed from the context of the season two, which says just how little Viktor's arc this season contributed to the moment.

Final Thoughts

I'm so sorry I went so in-depth. I just love him as a character and feel he was very much not done justice.

We can attribute some of this to the lack of time. But when you know you have a lack of time, you need to write with that in mind instead of trying to do it all. And ultimately, I found a lot of scenes this season a waste of precious time. They had so many characters alone contemplating something intangible or alone and trapped for episodes. They didn't plan this with the care and precision needed to pull it off.

I also want to note that I know I say here a lot that there's a lot they needed to make "more obvious". This is not because I'm stupid. But when you're a writer, you need to know what to highlight and what you can leave vague so you leave your audience exploring the right nuances and asking the satisfying questions.

Anyways umm. The end. Holy shit, I'm so sorry I wrote so much.

[sugarwarachan]

title: better than most to say the least

pairing: dabi x reader (also on ao3)

wc: oops this is almost 3k

CWs: soulmate!au, fem!reader, slight angst if you squint, no condoms used (wrap it up in real life yall), Dabi's a little mean, reader's a little into it, the unbearable burden of being seen, i haven't written fic in years be gentle

Dabi doesn’t care about much. You can’t in the sort of world he inhabits. It’s much easier to scorch the earth behind you than to plan for good things to come. So he’s furious when he hears your voice, a real soft and low number, like a siren out in the fucking fog, say, “That’ll be ¥500.”

His brother laughed when the soul mark activated; even at the age of three, he’d known just how mundane the words were. Part of him had laughed as well; maybe you and he would laugh about it, too, when you met. The laughter died in his throat when he saw his father’s disapproving face.

He looks down at the packaged onigiri in something like disbelief. Your face is starting to express apprehension. He still hasn’t said anything, and it doesn’t even look like he’ll pay. He’s not surprised you’re weirded out, and fuck, something is pressing against his chest, like a buoy rising up, pulling him to the surface so he can finally suck down oxygen.

He feels fucking free, giddy with it. You’re real. He never once imagined you would be.

The grin that cracks his face must look a touch maniacal because your eyes widen, and he watches you press yourself against the counter as he says, “Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, princess?”

He’s not all that pleasant to look at.

You know that’s not a nice thing to think, especially about your soul mate, but you can’t help that your first thought upon seeing the guy was holy fucking shit what happened to you?

A moment ago, he was glaring at you, and now he’s radiating a nervous energy that puts you on edge. It’s like he thinks you’ll disappear the moment he takes his eyes off you.

You’re no criminal, but you’re no hero, either. You’ve got a quirk that makes most people wary of you, so your nonsense detector is finely tuned, and fuck, your soul mate is definitely the kind of dude who ends up on the other side of those hero compilations your coworker streams on her lunch break.

“Not done talking to me, are you?” He pouts, pushing out his lips and pulling at the staples in his face. His voice is nice. It relaxes you somehow, even when every nerve in your body is shrieking in alarm.

“Where’s yours?”

This throws him. A part of you doesn’t like forcing his hand like this, but another part of you thinks this could be a really convenient trap.

“Your soul mark?” You tap the side of your wrist. “Mine’s along the radial bone.”

He reaches over the till to grab your arm, pulling you closer. You yelp in protest. His touch is hot, familiar. You’re grateful no one else is in the store right now. Explaining this to yourself is going to be enough of a hassle later on.

There’s a menace in his voice when he addresses you. “You think I’m a liar?”

You don’t, actually. Even without the soul mark you would take this man at his word.

“No. But you’ve been in here a whole lot, and I’m a naturally suspicious person. So, pony up and show me.”

You’ve gotta be smart about this. Heroes and villains alike would do a lot to get a person with your quirk on their side, and you’re not so naïve as to think that soul marks can’t be discovered and used against you.  

He grins, and you feel it like a twist to the gut. This guy might actually kill you; you don’t really know. But something—the little bond between the tug of you that threaded your lives together the moment he opened his mouth—is already tugging at your brain for answers, for knowledge, all to better assemble who your soulmate is.

“We’ve gotta go somewhere safe for me to do that, doll.” He leers at you, and you wonder if he’s trying to intimidate, trying to imprint on your brain that, yes, he is, in fact, dangerous. “You’re just gonna have to take my word for it.”

Fat fucking chance.

You don’t take him at his word. You call him every name he’s ever heard and then some, and then you close your eyes and hum, and a feeling like sugared caramel slides into his head. Fuck is he floating? he thinks before he crumples to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

When he comes to, his head is splitting. He’s sitting in what he assumes is the store’s backroom, judging by the shelves lined with cleaning products. You’re on a crate watching him with an annoyed expression, lips kicked out in a pout. It draws attention to the fullness of your lower lip. He tries not to notice.

“You could have just shown me,” you grouse.

“And miss out on the chance to have you hit me with your quirk? What kind of masochist would I be then?”

He doesn’t know what you’re doing as a cashier, but it’s safe to say you’re hiding. He has no idea what you did to him, but just before he’d knocked out, he remembered the first time he mastered the flames, that sticky-sweet feeling of hope in his chest. He has no idea how you managed to dig that out after all these years.

You shrug, ignoring him.

“Too good to fucking explain?” he snaps.

You saw something vulnerable, so personal that not even the league knows he has those thoughts, those memories. If he could scrub them from your brain, he would.

“I can make you dream,” you snap back. “When I was a kid, I used to spend a lot of time in my own head. It worried my parents. They got me tested because they thought I was quirkless. The doctor said I had a minor empathy quirk. Nothing to worry about. What kid wouldn’t want the advantage of knowing how others feel?”

You clench your hands.

“I didn’t know if I could implant a dream into someone’s head, but I spun that dream the night before, and my parents were never the wiser. Up until the day they died, they never knew I’d planned out that scenario already and made that man lie to them.”

He’s floored. He can’t believe you’re willingly offering up such valuable information to him. What would Shigaraki do with you, he wonders, before a violent pain follows the thought. No, Shigaraki isn’t getting his hands on you. He doesn’t exactly know what happens to the things that kid collects for his master.

“Not at the top of the list for hero candidates?”

Your lips pull back in a sneer before you realize. You’re bad at hiding your feelings, he realizes, something that makes him feel oddly protective. You’ll need to get better at that.

He turns his hands out, palms up. A thin blue flame erupts. You jump, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“We’re gonna need to move, sweets. Neither one of us is exactly hero material.”

He takes you to a sorry excuse for a safe house because it’s just some guy on vacation who was stupid enough to leave a spare key behind, but it works in a pinch. He can’t take you to the league just yet. He already barely knows you, and there he would have to split your time with everyone else.

You’re standing in the doorway like a spooked animal. That you agreed to come is shocking in itself, but then again, he would have followed you into a coffin if you asked it of him. Maybe there was something to those soul mate stories Toga pretended not to read after all. He thought the whole bond thing was exaggerated, but maybe not.

He clenches his jaw and grabs a beer from the fridge.

“I’m not gonna fucking hurt you. You can take the bedroom,” he says, even though he wants you to sit next to him, to look at him, to share something again the way you had in the storeroom. But you’re already shuffling away, and before he knows it, the door shuts with a click, and he’s alone in the dark.

Confirmed villain.

It took you all of two seconds to search the web for League of Villains and/or criminal activity across the country, and bam, there he is, menacing even in blurry camera footage.

You stare up at the ceiling and wonder if you should be horrified at yourself that this confirmation changes nothing. He’s just your soulmate, for better or for worse.

And you’re a coward for sitting in here rather than performing the simple task of sharing a drink with him.

The blue glow of the television lights up the living room. He’s moved to the couch, long legs spread open, arms resting along the back. Desire drops low in your stomach at the sight, an almost innate need flashing in your body to climb into his lap.

He catches your eye and smirks like he can read your thoughts. You blush furiously. “Did you realize hiding doesn’t solve shit?”

“Shut up,” you retort, like a child, which makes him laugh. It’s a nice laugh. A little subdued, you think, but warm, hard-won. You don’t imagine he laughs often.

When you settle down next to him, he seems to barely register, but something in you knows he’s pleased. You curl toward the feeling like a cat seeking a sunbeam.  

“Really, though. What made you come out?”

Looking him in the eye is a mistake. He has beautiful eyes, a cerulean blue that puts the sky to shame.

“I don’t like running from things,” you manage. You were wrong to think he wasn’t pretty. “What’s your name?”

He snorts. “You’ve gotta know it, doll, didn’t you spend ten minutes in there panic-searching for violent crime?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Call me old-fashioned, but I’d still like to be introduced.”

“It’s Dabi.”

You raise a brow. “That’s it?”

“For now. I’ll tell you the real one later, okay?”

“Fine.”

He’s watching compilation videos of pro heroes, the footage flickering on the walls around you.

“This is what you do in your spare time?”

He shrugs. “Just what was on.”

You don’t believe that for a second, but it’s fine, because you’re a liar, too. You’d do anything to avoid painful topics, like the possibility that your soulmate already has plans outside of you that you won’t be able to change.

“You know, your words used to get me in a lot of trouble,” you say, to get you back into familiar territory.

He smiles, like that pleases him. You bet it does.

“Oh yeah? What sort of trouble?”

“Just the usual. Your soulmate has a potty mouth, your soul mate’s probably a villain…”

His shoulder tenses against you. You don’t remember scooting closer, but the sheer fucking heat of him is searing into your skin.

You want him. If you’re being honest, you’ve probably wanted him since he first appeared in the store. The part of you that doesn’t exactly abide by societal standards saw a kindred flame in him.

“That sort of thing used to bother me when I was a kid, I guess. But the older I got, the more I realized how much I liked them.”

Your hands ache to touch him. His thigh tenses alongside yours.

“What do you like about them now?” he asks.

You have a whole slew of thoughts in your head about them, the characteristics you assumed based on one little question, but for now all you can say is, “That you finally said them.”

He doesn’t know who moves first.

You tumble into his lap inelegantly, but he doesn’t care; he wants you closer. He’s wanted you closer since he arrived at this shitty studio apartment, has been trying to rein in the overwhelming feeling of possession swarming under his skin, but he wants.

He's a villain, and he’s never been good at waiting for what he wants.

His hands press into the meat of your hips, and he savors the little gasp you make. He’s hard as iron already and all you’ve done is settle your clothed cunt on top of him.

“You’re already fucking scorching, baby, can feel you through your fucking jeans,” he hisses, dragging you along his thigh. You whimper. “I know, fuck, I know, you’re driving me crazy, too.”

Your hands are everywhere, sliding over his scarred skin like you were born to it, fingers exploring the cool metal of his staples. You’re gentle but also not, and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt in his entire life. You move to kiss him, your hips moving more and more, a desperate noise bubbling up in your throat.

“Please, Dabi, please.” You sound so fucked out, and he hasn’t even touched you all that much. “I wanna kiss you, don’t you wanna kiss me?”

He smirks. A little brat, begging for kisses.

He does want to kiss you, has been staring at the plushness of your lips for the better part of since he met you, but his mouth aches today.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna kiss me now,” you’re saying, tongue licking and tasting and sucking at his neck. He bucks against you. “We can feel good in other ways.”

The whimper that comes out of him feels ripped from his soul. His arms cage you closer, one palm snaking up to cup your neck, the other under your shirt.

Neither of you talk as you make quick work of each other’s clothes, discarding them to the floor. He tries not to feel insecure as you take in his body. Over the years, his appearance is as much a part of him as his past. He can’t shed either, no matter how much he might want to.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think you were pretty at first.”

You look so devastated that he can’t help but laugh.

“I don’t fucking care,” he says, pulling you to him and kissing you despite how much his lips ache, because fuck, he has someone, finally, and he’s so glad it’s you. “Just want you.”

He punctuates this by cupping your bare pussy with his hand. Just from grinding on him earlier, you’re slippery and warm, and his fingers part your folds easily. You sigh into his mouth as he rubs the pad of his thumb around the sides of your clit, huffing a laugh when your hips buck for more.

“Getting desperate for it, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you grit out. “Just fucking touch me –" you roll your hips forward – “like you fucking mean it.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll have you dumb on my cock before long.”

“Big fucking talk for a man who hasn’t even – “

He cuts you off by stuffing your pussy with two of his fingers, the stretch of it making you whine. You can feel the cool metal in the staples at the heel of his hand as he strokes, in and out, a steady and rough rhythm that feels impossibly good for it to just be fucking fingering.

“No one ever made you feel this way?” You can hear the smirk in his voice without even seeing him. Splayed out on his lap like this, your tits bouncing as you shift your body closer to him, you bet you look like a fucking mess. But you don’t care, because he's right, no one has ever made you feel like this, and it’s important to you that he feels just as fucking good.

His cock curves along his stomach, weeping pre-cum and jerking up whenever your voice hitches. You think it’s so hot, how in tune he already is with you, how much he wants to please you, that you grab him in the palm of your hand and stroke, relishing the groan that rumbles in his throat.

“No one ever made you feel this way?” you taunt. His eyes flash, and before you know it, you’re both on the ground, his hips slotting in between your legs and his cock notching up at your entrance. He looks up at you, pupils blown, chest heaving.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’ll fucking murder you –"

He cuts you off with one quick rock of his hips. You burn at the stretch. He’s big, and it’s been a while, but he’s already moving before you have time to process that little blip of pain before the pleasure is overwhelming you. You squeal when he lifts your hips up, but it’s just to slip a pillow under you before he’s manhandling your hips and fucking into you like a man possessed.

His breath is hot against your ear, whispering a litany of confessions while he drags his cock in and out. It’s so purposeful, you feel every stroke of him in your fucking skull. His pubic bone grinds against your clit with every thrust, and before you know it, you’re chanting praises, begging him to let you come.

He knows the neighbors will complain, that the safe house is absolutely busted, but he can’t fucking care, because your perfect little cunt is squeezing him like a vice, and your eyes are so blissful as you come that he feels, finally, at peace.

“That’s it, princess,” he says as your orgasm shatters through you. “Make a fucking mess, just for me, god yes –"

He comes so hard that his vision whites out. All he can feel and hear and see and think is you.

He collapses on top of you, nosing at the baby hairs damp with sweat along your neck. He smiles. Maybe later he’ll take you to a bed and tell you his real name.

[aaronstveit]

so you want to read more this year!

i answered an ask about this recently, but i thought i would make a post about it so i could (hopefully) be a bit more clear and helpful. i specifically wanna help people who used to read a lot, but have fallen off for a while now. obviously everyone is different, but i hope at least a few of these tips can help you.

let yourself read slowly. you don't have to speedrun every book you read; in fact, it's usually better if you don't. forget the way that you used to race through books when you were younger. let yourself take time with them now. especially if you haven't read much lately, it's going to take you longer to read now than it used to. and that's okay! a lot of stories are better when they are experienced slowly, so you can absorb them more.

stop viewing reading as a competition. you aren't trying to win a pizza party or special field trip now, so there is no need to compete with other readers. so what if someone else read 10 books in the time it took you to read 1? other readers have nothing to do with you. the only person you should be "competing with" is yourself.

that said, setting goals and challenges for yourself can be a life-changer. i'm not just talking about a goodreads goal, although setting a numerical goal is often helpful. but i mean setting more broad goals, like reading more books of certain genres, or more books by authors of color. setting goals without specified quantities can help you because it's not a pass-fail situation, it's just a personal challenge. there are also all sorts of reading challenges you can try, like reading a book for every letter of the alphabet. you can find any sort of reading challenge on the internet; the storygraph has a whole section dedicated to challenges, both site-run and user-run. you can even create your own! popsugar also runs a very popular year-long reading challenge.

experiment with book formats. physical books, e-books, and audiobooks allow several different formats for people to try out! figuring out which formats work best for you help you to enjoy reading and gain more from the experience. don't listen to people who say audiobooks aren't "reading." if you enjoy audiobooks, listen to them! the only person you have to answer to is yourself.

experiment with different genres. even if you think you know exactly what genres you like and don't like, try branching out and trying books outside of your comfort zone, especially if you haven't read a lot lately. you never know when your tastes might change!

don't be afraid to DNF or pause a book. the thing about reading as a hobby is that it's supposed to be fun. yes, you should read books that challenge you, but this doesn't mean you have to make it to the end of every book. if you're hating a book, if you dread picking it up, if it bores you: just quit. that way, you can find a book you actually enjoy to read. trying to force your way through a book you're hating just usually makes you read less in the long run.

utilize your public library if you have one. this one always feels obvious, and yet people always seem to forget it. libraries exist for a reason! a lot of libraries have apps where you can check out e-books and audiobooks, so definitely use those if you have them. if you want to read a physical copy of a book that your library doesn't have, you can probably request an interlibrary loan! and if they still don't have it, you can usually request that your library order a book.

take advantage of books in the public domain. most classics are now in the public domain, which means that you can read them for free on Project Gutenberg, and if you use apple products, you can usually find them as free ebooks on Apple Books as well. if you're looking for audiobooks, Project Gutenberg also has those. you can also check out LibriVox, which is a volunteer-based organization that provides free audiobooks of public domain books. you can find a lot of their books as free podcasts on spotify!

reread old favorites. this is my personal favorite way to get out of a reading slump. familiar favorites are great for getting your brain back into reading mode without having to introduce yourself to a brand new story. you can also take the opportunity to annotate, if you're into that! speaking of which:

don't let the idea of annotation intimidate you. if you're not being graded, you can do whatever you want with annotations! i know some people who choose specific themes and tab them in their books, which is cool. some people just highlight favorite quotes and passages, and that's good too! you can pick out foreshadowing, make notes on things you find funny or interesting, even draw on the pages! if it's your copy of a book, then you can do whatever you like with it.

challenge yourself to write reviews. even if it's only a few sentences, it makes you engage more with the story, which is a good thing! you don't have to share these reviews, you can keep them in a private journal or document if you like. but it's good to make you think more about the book you've just read.

check the trigger warnings. if you have any triggers whatsoever, you definitely want to check trigger warnings before you read a book. you can usually find them by scrolling through goodreads reviews, or by googling "[book name] trigger warnings."

let yourself get distracted sometimes. i know this sounds counterintuitive, but hear me out. if you're in the middle of reading and suddenly you start thinking about scrolling through social media or something, finish your chapter and then let yourself scroll for a few minutes. it's better to give yourself a few minutes to scroll and then come back to your book, rather than continue "reading" while just thinking about scrolling. i'm not saying to put down your book and devote yourself to your instagram feed for the rest of the day; just take a few minutes, then get back to your book. do it between every chapter if you have to. or, if you decide you want a snack or something to drink, go get it! you don't have to sit still for hours on end if that doesn't work for you.

find someone, anyone, that you can talk to about books. it can be a person irl or online, a friend or coworker or family member. you can join a book club or a discord server. just, if you can, find someone to talk to about the books you're reading. this is another way to engage more with your reading material, because you're thinking about it in conversation, and it's also a way to get more excited about the things you're reading! you don't even have to be reading the same books. you can also recommend books to each other, and discover new favorites this way.

try reading more than one book at a time. mix and match genres, time periods, and styles so that you have different books going for different moods. that way, if one book isn't holding your attention, you have another one that will.

social media is cool, but don't let it control you. let social media bring you new book recommendations and friends, but don't let it dictate what you read or how you organize your bookshelves. just because everyone else is reading something doesn't mean you have to, if you don't want to; just because everyone else has a picture-perfect reading nook doesn't mean you need one, too. you aren't less of a reader because you don't spend hundreds of dollars on new books, or because you don't read the most popular genres and authors. you also aren't less of a reader for reading what's most popular! again, you aren't in competition with anyone else. don't let bookfluencers steal your joy.

obviously, this list isn't all-encompassing or universal. this is just the advice that helped me get back into reading after years of barely touching a book. i hope there is something on this list that can help you, if you need it. happy reading!

[gatheredfates]

Yes, you've hit the nail on the head for me! It's why I wanted to preface that the utilisation of mods for personal joy/accessibility is not my issue with them, and I think that people should be able to expand on character customisation—especially while SE continues to struggle with afro-textured hair (as just one example). It's the elitism around mods and the belief that if you don't have mods or don't agree with them that you're somehow 'lesser' and not worth the same amount of time as someone who sinks that level of commitment into their characters.

Let's be honest? It is a commitment, but that isn't necessarily a good thing.

When a (former) friend got hers, she got mad at me and said "I didn't know you had a photographer, I didn't give them my code" then left.

And

Another former friend said if a place has no public synchshells, she leaves.

Are endemic of a community that values aesthetic over substance; who cannot bear to have their character perceived in any way other than what they have meticulously crafted using third party tools to the detriment and exclusion of people who cannot or will not access them. Maybe it's that I'm just old(er) now? But, at least back when I wrote in WoW and text-based RP, you could slap a picture of an anime character/actor down and be like 'they look like this but with black hair and green eyes' and it was fine. You didn't need a picture at all, really, and it was STILL fine! Because it was the content of their writing, their personal character and their drive for inclusion that meant something. You could use your ~imagination~ to envision the gaps in the game engine or picture(s).

It's incredibly sad that I can walk into a room on Sarrai, someone who is very extroverted and loves to chat and include people, and be outrightly ignored and/or made to feel like I'm 'intruding' on a space because I've not been there previously (and am unknown to the group at large) or that my clothes/hair/etc. might still be vanilla. There's an irony when I'm included once people work out I run the Compendium, but it's not nice.

It's a double-edged sword for me when people tell Pepper and I they feel safe at the Fireside because we interact with people no matter their skill/mods, because it's the highest praise to know we have created a venue that is safe, but that's in direct competition to places that aren't. I don't care if you use mods or not! I have highly modded characters (El) and characters that don't have mods at all (Kor) because I'm happy with how she looks. Why should I modify her just so she fits with the crowd? It's ridiculous and needlessly gatekeep-y when roleplay is already a weird hobby to begin with. None of us are cool, guys! I promise! You're weird and it's fine actually!

The answer is there: You have to work on making spaces that are welcoming to everyone. But it also means a lot of the community has to do some introspection on why their mods matter so much within their place in the community and why everything has to be meticulously crafted and squeaky clean, otherwise people will have an aversion to you. We're roleplayers/gposers/etc. We're not companies!

I'm begging people to be more earnest and vulnerable. Anyone with half a brain will see it. You don't need to adhere to the aesthetic unless it makes you happy. We need to do more to be open, accommodating and kind to people; especially those who are limited to vanilla, writing, etc. I'm tired of writing, the tool we all use to expand on our character(s) place in the world, being undervalued.

Playerscope, modding and the hunt for aesthetic: why you should be more upset about mods and community expectations than you already are.

I love that this sounds like an academic paper but HONESTLYYYY. I need to put my thoughts to paper in regards to my burnout with xiv, otherwise I think I'll go insane. This is a controversial yet brave post. I am well aware that I partake in some of the things I'm going to be critiquing; aka, "thank you, dinklebottom, we live in a society." I'm also not critiquing mods from a space of offering more accessibility to people and/or facilitating representation not currently offered within the context of the game. There is nuance to every discussion and I'm coming at this from an overarching view around mods and community expectations/standards rather than player joy. I hope this makes sense. I'm also predominately writing from a roleplay perspective, though I'm sure a lot of what I end up saying can reflect in the art party/social space. Just know if I haven't mentioned the latter it's because that's not my scene and I don't pretend to know otherwise.

Anyway. For those who don't know, there's a new mod that's causing some strife in the xiv community called Playerscope. Here is the reddit thread about it. I'm not going to be talking too much about the mod in general because that's not the point of this post, but seeing discussion around it today just made me feel more exhausted than I already am when it comes to modding and the xiv community around it. It made me realise... I'm actually really sick to death of mods. I'm sick to death of what they're doing to the community when it comes to gatekeeping, policing and in general the interactions we have with each other in the community.

Let me explain: I wrote a post about the roleplay mod on bsky that kind of articulates at a surface level what I mean.

I think what makes me sad, which I'm sure is echoed by a lot of people, is that mods feel like the standard now rather than an option and that there's a certain expectation for people to have them if they want to engage with facets of the community—whether intentional or not.

Unlike XIV, WoW has a supported mod scene (within reason) and TRP 2 and the like have been accepted for years now. In a space where people can't slap on an RP tag, having that tool readily identifies you as a writer/roleplayer and you can include as much or as little of your character as you like. The general idea is if you have one of these tools enabled, you're a roleplayer to some capacity. You can dress up the profile to a certain degree, you can add links and supported pictures, but you're mostly reliant on what you put to paper in regards to your character. Even then, I find filling out what my character is doing currently and marking the rest as a WIP doesn't necessarily exclude me from roleplay if I want to find it. A lot of people will do that and a super simple description to incite interest around their oc.

These days in XIV... I don't know. I do think communities have gotten more insular—it's why I'm so pedantic about trying to find them for the Compendium—but I also think mods and, to a certain extent, the 'nightclub' scene have gotten in the way of it as well. My argument is such.

I want to go to an event (for example sake, I'll call it Seascape). In order to fully participate, I may need:

Their discord.

A roleplay addon.

A carrd/google site/etc.

Their synchshell (including mods, mare and everything else)

Potentially a mod of some description so people know I can see theirs (and vice versa).

Also that your mod isn't made by a shitty person.

Appropriate understanding of the scene/social space.

Some luck and a prayer that it's an inclusive space and not a closed rp group advertising as being open and/or a mod showcase advertising itself as something different.

Like??? Holy shit you guys. If you are someone who doesn't want to mod because you're worried about repercussions it really just feels like a big 'fuck you, good luck'.

And let me be clear, not every community is like this. I'm incredibly lucky to have found fantastic roleplay within my own rp event/community, I have great friends who run awesome, inclusive events for people of any skill (writing or otherwise) and I do fully believe you can just enable the rp tag and find fun, fulfilling roleplay. But I've also found the above a lot of times, too. I've had people point-blank get mad at my partner because he won't install mods and try to exclude and/or circumvent him in spaces. It's weird. I've been to events where the only time I felt like I got proper interaction(s) was when I joined the aforementioned, even if I have my character's profile linked in my about. It's weird.

Honestly, no wonder new roleplayers feel overwhelmed. Not only do they have to learn roleplay etiquette, they have to be a mod expert overnight? It feels less about what someone can bring to the table as far as a story but what mods they can install to either look cool or pass an unspoken social barrier. As much as I'm down bad for aesthetic and looking the part, I hate it being at the cost of accessibility and fun for someone else.

Arguably it's the same for gposing and the like as well, which contributes to my exhaustion alongside all the graphical changes and I just. I'm gnawing at the bars of my cage.

I don't think it's going to change and arguably it's more of a Twitter/X issue than a Tumblr, one but Tumblr lets me write mini essays and Twitter will tell me to kms.

Ergo, I'll go with the essay-writing platform.

Anyway, I guess this is just a reminder that you don't need 4596419651 mods to be in the community and that people should be more vigilant on including people who don't have them for whatever reason, provided they operate in good-faith and want to contribute. I think we're careening to a slippery slope of expectation for something unsupported and I don't like it.

[sexisbetteronthemoon]

Can we have any insight into what’s going on in Lance’s head up until this point in the fic? What’s his opinion on Planet Red and Keith? (And the baby!)

thanks for the question!

ok, so, i spent most of the day thinking about how to answer this question and i'm still not quite sure? i might be overcomplicating things — i tend to do that, but it feels like a broad question since a lot has happened (it's a lot to cover lol). and i feel like i'll just be overexplaining things we already know. 😭 i'll be trying my best!

okay, this is going to be long and filled with spoilers, so if you haven't read sex is better on the moon to the current chapter (15), don't read this! putting this under a read more too.

so most of Lance's thoughts are in dialogue, actions, and subtext.

What Lance Thinks of Planet Red:

he's not jazzed about a planet that keeps trying to kill him, but it's also fear that stems from ignorance of the world around him. he complains a lot, but then there's the unicorn who brought him fruits (impressive), the kazoo bird that landed in his hair (cute, but embarrassing), and his baby girl, (the absolute best thing to ever exist!) so he understands there's both good and bad on this planet. he's also seen Keith handling animals and how it softens him, and that just makes him more appreciative.

the fact that they're dangerous animals sometimes, and Keith doesn't tend to show fear is also really reassuring to him and lessens his own!

then Keith teaches him things, and you'll notice a significant drop in his fear and complaints. and when Keith shows him the notebook, he reads the notes and realizes there's a lot more to observe about the world around him than the superficial. he starts seeing things differently. he pauses to look at creatures and plants.

and when Keith shows him the glowing flowers and moths, it's like the last nail in the coffin. he realizes Planet Red can be beautiful, and he comes to understand a little better why Keith likes it so much there.

What Lance Thinks of Keith:

at first, he's wary and unimpressed by what he sees, even a little afraid of Keith. he's just crash landed on the planet and he's scared and alone, and there's this wildman that looks more beast than man. keep in mind that Lance is the crown prince, and thus has never been treated like Keith has treated him in his life.

people always present their best faces (even if they're false or sneering) in front of Lance, and he's used to that. but then there's Keith who manhandles him and scoffs at him and throws blankets at him. he treats Lance like he is just another person who has to earn respect instead of automatically (forcefully) giving it.

and how does Keith start off? by being surly, rude, and intimidating.

Keith also calls him "princess", which leads Lance to believe that Keith knows who he is, and might even have something to do with the attack on his ship, hence the distrust in the beginning.

and then Keith keeps saving and protecting him (and despite Keith's bark, he keeps letting Lance have his way) even when Lance sometimes makes things harder for him. he's concluded that Keith is ornery and antisocial, but Lance begins to see that there's an actual person under all the hair and dirt. and he finds that Keith could really be someone he can depend on.

this leads him into revealing his name.

then Keith actually starts a tickle fight and calls him beautiful, which takes Lance off guard and makes him realize that Keith's not just the man that's helping him, but a man, with desires and wants, that thinks Lance is beautiful. suddenly, Keith isn't just "that mountain man who helps me", but "that man of flesh and blood who might genuinely find me attractive and i'm entirely alone with at all times".

at this point, Lance is well aware that Keith has an attractive body, given he's seen him naked a few times already and also been held against that muscle at night.

but finding someone attractive doesn't mean he wants to start something, and it goes for both of them. so Lance keeps his boundaries pretty clear and firm! he's very adamant in Keith not peeking at him while he changes, bathes, pops a squat etc.

at the same time, Lance is trying his best to get to know Keith, and Keith keeps resisting until he finally gives in at the swamp, where he tells Lance he's from Earth and lonely sometimes.

and when Keith gives him the comb for his hair, Lance learns Keith is thoughtful and actually listens to him when he talks.

skipping Keith's poisoning. Lance was terrified the entire time.

When Lance gets to see Keith's notebook with the various sketches of himself, he realizes Keith doesn't just find him attractive, but that he likes Lance. you don't just draw someone over and over without feeling some type of way, ya know? and Lance might be clueless about survival, but he's not socially inept like Keith is (and he learned survival from Keith, so he's not clueless about that anymore either!)

the most significant change happens after Keith takes Lance frog gigging. that night, it's the first time that Lance doesn't get on Keith's case about peeking at him. Keith is the one who brings it up and turns away, but Lance didn't actually say he should look away. before this, Lance was very quick about snapping at Keith. so... 👀 i believe this says everything.

from this point on, Lance starts flirting, flustering Keith.

it doesn't last very long, though, as this is when the pollen makes them fall asleep, there's the alleged dream of the yellow caterpillar, and Kosmo nearly dies, and then the bird woman shows up.

and now there's a point of contention between Lance and Keith, because Lance has realized Keith has a tendency to throw himself in harm's way to save Lance, while Lance wants nothing more than to watch his back and help in any way that he can.

Lance is also sticking up for himself and establishing himself as Keith's equal, such as when he tells Keith not to shove him again. he's pushing back against Keith who has so far done all the leading and decision-making. he's trying to prove that he can be a partner instead of a weight to carry.

then Keith starts putting distance between them, and Lance is hurt by that. thus far, he has been attempting to get closer to Keith, chipping away at his layers, and suddenly, Keith is saying that once Lance leaves, he'll never come back. we saw Keith be confused by Lance's sudden emotional distance and snappish attitude, and it was a direct reaction to Keith's claim that Lance "can forget about this place entirely".

and we're back to the glowing flowers and moths.

this was a very big deal. so far, Keith has proven himself to be kind of a hardass who drives them both hard for the sake of keeping Lance safe and them both ahead of The Six. but then Keith stops them at a pond for a little date (not a date, but so totally a date, we all know it). and several things become very clear to Lance

1) it's in the opposite direction of where they need to go.

2) they only have eleven days to get to Keith's cabin.

3) The Six are still around

and yet, there they are. because Keith thought Lance would enjoy it.

now, it's not a secret that Keith has certain feelings for Lance. Lance knows this! it's as obvious as the nose on his face! but Keith insinuated they would have no further contact after Lance leaves.

and so this date pretty much cements the idea that Keith is once again being socially inept and/or pulling away on purpose, and that it's up to Lance to make it clear what he wants between them. thus, the flirting picks up again, but it's like flirting with a brick wall tbh. Keith is NOT making it easy.

now, i'm sure we've all noticed Lance has a secret. seeing as we're heading toward it, i won't say much more on the subject, but HOO BOY.

What Lance Thinks of Kosmo:

perfect in every conceivable way. 1000/10. wouldn't change a thing.

What Kosmo Thinks of Everything:

Planet Red: lives here! it's perfect! plenty of food and room to play!

Lance: doesn't know how to use his nose, but still a perfect adoptive parent! beautiful! good hugs, excellent scritches! makes noises that make the tail go swoosh-woosh. always has food, love, and attention for Kosmo! 1000/10

Keith: also doesn't know how to use his nose. protective pack leader, but bad mate material. keeps ignoring pheromones potential mate is putting out. forgets to let potential mate eat first. doesn't participate in social grooming but allows attempts from potential mate. gives good scritches and always leaves best pieces of food for Kosmo. 999/10

-

anon, i hope i didn't misunderstand your ask (i haven't eaten, so i'm not firing on all cylinders orz). if i did, then that's my bad. feel free to ask for clarification 😅 or if you wanted a specific scene, you can ask for that too!

[wrathyforest]

Is there a story behind office robbery?

Okay, due to your curiosity, the office robbery lore :D

It was a stupid (because I'm dumb) and funny situation (though later when I was re-watching it in my head, I was terrified). It was time when I worked in the office, and my office was a filiation of another department. So, my office's work hours are till 17:30, the department's - till 18:00. Usually every worker at ours wants to go home early, so at 17:30, maximum 17:45, the very last worker left. The thing is that back then the department's secretary was sick and there wasn't anyone who could do that work, so they asked my boss to give them a capable worker for a few days or a week (you may guess it was me even though I tried to refuse, but huh life is a struggle), so I ended up at that place. During the lunch break I always went back to my original office to drink tea. That day I was in a hurry because there was a lot of work, so I drank my tea, but forgot to wash my mug (back then we also had an invasion of cockroaches), so I had worries someone can decide to sit there in my mug, so I decided to go wash it after work (which is after 18:00). Also an important detail: I was one of the few people who had duplicate keys - keys was given to me because of my unmatched punctuality (even office janitor lost to me when tried to come earlier 💀 ), so I thought that it was convenient to peacefully wash my mug after work and then go home. So. It was 18:10 or so. When I came to the office door, I put the key into the lock, BUT IT DIDN'T TURN. I was confused, I tried the door handle and it was open. And then straight out of the dark room to me a tall guy rushed out! I wasn't terrified, I was confused (yeah, sometimes I realize stuff later), he was obviously nervous (another funny thing that it didn't scare me but rather made me extremely chill like oh poor guy what's the matter? I know I'm so dumb), so I asked who was he. He began to vaguely tell me that he's fixing an internet?? And here another gag in my defense: that week my colleague invited some IT-guy to help build a web-site and some days they could stay for a few hours after work, so it confused me, because I have never seen the guy. Okay, so I asked who let him in, he vaguely began to explain but I haven't heard a single name of the people working here. I was asking a few questions like, "who let you in, come find me the person", to what he was answering sm like "YOU come find" and I was like ???? are you ok, dude? At this point I was rather pissed off by the situation.

So again. A dark 4th floor, with no one around. Me and him, and then I just came into the office room to check if everything is okay (back then we didn't lock out laptops in safes, everything were right on the tables lol). Everything visually was fine. The guy just went away, and there I spotted that he left his phone on the chair 💀 lmao and on the phone someone named "Melon" was calling him :D I giggled a bit and in a second the guy RUSHED BACK HERE AND WAS LIKE OMG I FORGOT MY PHONE!!! And I was like: is this it? Here. Anything else you forgot? And he: no, thank you, I'll come back tomorrow, And I was like: Okay, goodbye. Him: Goodbye.

Lol. After I immediately contacted my boss to clarify if there was someone staying in the office, and she told me that no, and like I GUESS SOMEONE TRIED TO BURGLARY US. And I was like whoa damn,,,, I need to check everything. I went into the office room again, turned on the light AND SUDDENTLY A LIGHT BULB EXPLODED. And only at this moment the thought "damn, some real shit is going on" crossed my mind💀. I tried to remember if every laptop is in place. Haven't noticed anything unusual, so I locked the office and went home thinking stuff like "what if the guy had a knife?" :DDDD (actually it still might not consider as a successful preventing robbery, because the next day it turned out that the guy has stolen a photo camera..... but who knows if he'd stole more)

The funny thing is that my mug was left unwashed that day.💀

[helenofsparta2]

Okay, first of all, this is nothing personal, just a difference in opinion, but because Percy Jackson is currently my hyper fixation, I can't help but try to set a few things right when i encounter posts like this.

This is going to be a longer post, and I’m probably going to repeat myself a lot from some of my earlier ones, but I really don’t care.

 I am so sick and tired of people in this fandom misrepresenting or misremembering the relationship Nico and Percy actually had in PJO.  Because if you actually read the books, it’s so obvious, that Percy always did everything in his power to protect Nico, and that he was the person who cared for him the most out of everyone else.

First to tackle the points mentioned above:  

“I just knew that Percy Jackson was the one who was freaked out by him when he learned he was the son of Hades”

Percy did not get freaked out, simply because Nico being the son of Hades creeped him out. He got freaked out, because Nico being the son of Hades meant that he could possibly be the hero of the prophecy. Because he feared what the gods and Kronos might do to him, once they found out:

We have to tell Chiron," Annabeth said, out of breath. "No," I said. She and Grover both stared at me. "Um," Grover said nervously, "what do you mean… no? I was still trying to figure out why I'd said that, but the words spilled out of me. "We can't let anyone know. I don't think anyone realizes that Nico is a—" "A son of Hades," Annabeth said. "Percy, do you have any idea how serious this is? (...) I don't think Nico understands who he is. But we can't go telling anyone. Not even Chiron. If the Olympians find out—"(The Titan’s curse, chapter 20)

“who got annoyed internally when young Nico asked too many questions”

Are we really blaming Percy now because he felt annoyed by a ten-year-old asking him a bunch of questions? A feeling, he only had internally, and never acted upon?  

Even, if we ignore how ridiculous that would be, it’s important to remember, that Percy only started to get annoyed when Nico asked him why Annabeth didn’t know better than to fall of a cliff. His best friend who had just gotten kidnapped by the titan army. Before that he was genuinely nice to Nico. He complimented his mythomagic card collection, showed him his sword and answered all his other questions, despite the fact that he was emotionally devestated worried sick about Annabeth, and blamed himself for her fate.

"Big collection," I said. Nico grinned. "I've got almost all of them, plus their holographic cards! Well, except for a few really rare ones." "You've been playing this game a long time?" "Just this year (…) "Hey, can I see that sword you were using?" I showed him Riptide, and explained how it turned from a pen into a sword just by uncapping it. "Cool! Does it ever run out of ink?" "Um, well, I don't actually write with it." "Are you really the son of Poseidon?" "Well, yeah." "Can you surf really well, then?" I looked at Grover, who was trying hard not to laugh. "Jeez, Nico," I said. "I've never really tried." (Titan’s curse, chapter 3)

“who broke his promise to keep his sister safe”

I think I’m going to have to repeat this sentence for the rest of my life:

Percy never promised Nico that he would keep Bianca 100% safe.

He explicitly warned Nico that every quest is dangerous, and that no one could guarantee anyone’s survival. He only promised to do his best. Which he did.

(He shoulders sagged. He shifted from foot to foot. "Maybe you're right. But, but you can go for me." "Say what?" "You can turn invisible. You can go!" "The Hunters don't like boys," I reminded him. "If they find out—" "Don't let them find out. Follow them invisibly. Keep an eye on my sister! You have to. Please?" "Nico—" "You're planning to go anyway, aren't you?" I wanted to say no. But he looked me in the eyes, and I somehow couldn't lie to him. "Yeah," I said. "I have to find Annabeth. I have to help, even if they don't want me to." "I won't tell on you," he said. "But you have to promise to keep my sister safe." "I… that's a big thing to promise, Nico, on a trip like this. Besides, she's got Zoe, Grover, and Thalia—" "Promise," he insisted. "I'll do my best. I promise that." (Titan’s curse, chapter 8)

“Percy Jackson was horrible to Nico”

To tackle this relatively broad subject, here’s a list of all the things Percy did for Nico in PJO:  

He was the only one to remind Bianca to think about Nico before joining the hunters.   

(Anger flashed in Zoe's eyes. "That is not thy concern, boy. The point is Bianca may join if she wishes. It is her choice." "Bianca, this is crazy," I said. "What about your brother? Nico can't be a Hunter."( Titan’s Curse, chapter 3)

He made sure, Nico didn’t risk his life by following Bianca on her quest

 ("And now you're thinking about following them on the quest," I guessed. "How did you know that?" "Because if it was my sister, I'd probably be thinking the same thing. But you can't." He looked defiant. "Because I'm too young?" "Because they won't let you. They'll catch you and send you back here. And… yeah, because you're too young. You remember the manticore? There will be lots more like that. More dangerous. Some of the heroes will die." He shoulders sagged. He shifted from foot to foot. "Maybe you're right. (Titan’s curse, chapter 8))

He wanted to risk his own life, so Nico could escape from the skeletons

(I drew my sword and Nico gasped. I whirled and found myself facing four skeleton warriors. They grinned fleshless grins and advanced with swords drawn. I wasn't sure how they'd made it inside the camp, but it didn't matter. I'd never get help in time. "You're trying to kill me!" Nico screamed. "You brought these… these things?" "No! I mean, yes, they followed me, but no! Nico, run. They can't be destroyed." "I don't trust you!" The first skeleton charged. I knocked aside its blade, but the other three kept coming. I sliced one in half, but immediately it began to knit back together. I knocked another's head off but it just kept fighting. "Run, Nico!" I yelled. (Titan’s Curse, Chapter 20)

He searched the woods in the dark for hours after Nico disappeared

 (Annabeth and Grover helped me search the woods for hours, but there was no sign of Nico di Angelo.(Titan’s Curse, Chapter 20))

He made Annabeth and Grover swear to hide Nico’s identity, so the gods wouldn’t kill him

(I don't think Nico understands who he is. But we can't go telling anyone. Not even Chiron. If the Olympians find out—" "It might start them fighting among each other again," Annabeth said. "That's the last thing we need." Grover looked worried. "But you can't hide things from the gods. Not forever." (Titan’s Curse, Chapter 20))

He decided to shoulder the prophecy, solely because he wanted to prevent Nico from going through any more suffering

 ("I don't need forever," I said. "Just two years. Until I'm sixteen." Annabeth paled. "But, Percy, this means the prophecy might not be about you. It might be about Nico. We have to—" "No," I said. "I choose the prophecy. It will be about me." "Why are you saying that?" she cried. "You want to be responsible for the whole world?" It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger," I said. "I owe that much to his sister. I… let them both down. I'm not going to let that poor kid suffer any more." "The poor kid who hates you and wants to see you dead," Grover reminded me. "Maybe we can find him," I said. "We can convince him it's okay, hide him someplace safe." Annabeth shivered. "If Luke gets hold of him—" "Luke won't," I said. "I'll make sure he's got other things to worry about. Namely, me." (Titan’s Curse, Chapter 20)

He searched for Nico between Titan’s curse and Battle of the labyrinth

 (“So the Nico boy is gone now?” “I—I guess. I tried to search for him this spring. So did Annabeth. But we didn’t have any luck. This is secret, Tyson. Okay? If anyone found out he was a son of Hades, he would be in danger. You can’t even tell Chiron.” (Battle of the Labyrinth, chapter 2))

He risked his, Grover’s, Annabeth’s and Tyson’s life on Geryon’s farm, for the chance to save Nico

(“Either way, you get my friends,” I said. “But, if I succeed, you’ve got to let all of us go, including Nico.” (Battle of the Labyrinth, Chapter 8))

He always offered Nico a place to stay, whenever he got the opportunity

 (“We missed you at dinner,” I said. “You could’ve sat with me.” “No.” “Nico, you can’t miss every meal. If you don’t want to stay with Hermes, maybe they can make an exception and put you in the big house. They’ve got plenty of room.” I’m not staying, Percy.” “But…you can’t just leave. It’s too dangerous out there for a lone half-blood. You need to train.” (Battle of the Labyrinth, Chapter 19)

He invited him to join him on his birthday

 (“Is that… is that blue birthday cake?” He sounded hungry, maybe a little wistful. I wondered if the poor kid had ever had a birthday party, or if he’d ever been invited to one. “Come inside for cake and ice cream,” I said. “It sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about.” (Battle of the Labyrinth, Chapter 20)

He reminded him that it’s okay to still be a kid  

(“By the way…” I fished something out of my pocket. “Tyson found this while we were cleaning the cabin. Thought you might want it.” I held out a lead figurine of Hades—the little Mythomagic statue Nico had abandoned when he fled camp last winter. Nico hesitated. “I don’t play that game anymore. It’s for kids.” “It’s got four thousand attack power,” I coaxed. “Five thousand,” Nico corrected. “But only if your opponent attacks first.” I smiled. “Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.” I tossed him the statue,( Battle of the Labyrinth, Chapter 19)

He always offered him his help

 (“Are you sure you want to stay here?” I asked. “Persephone will make your life miserable.” “I have to,” he insisted. “I have to get close to my dad. He needs a better adviser.” I couldn’t argue with that. “Well, if you need anything-“ “I’ll call,” he promised. (The Sword of Hades, in The Demigod Files, p 133)

He helped him to get the sword of hades back, because he understood his wish to impress his father

(I glanced at Thalia. She didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the whole track-a-thief-with-a-flower-thing. Then I looked at Nico. Unfortunately, I recognized the expression on his face. I knew what it was like wanting to make your dad proud, even if your dad was hard to love. In this case, really hard to love. Nico was going to do this, with or without us. And I couldn’t let him go alone. (The Sword of Hades, in The Demigod Files, page 99)

He acknowledged everything Nico has done in the last Olympian and is one of the main reasons why Hades received a cabin at camp

( “But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that.” (The Last Olympian, Chapter 20)

The only time, Percy hurt Nico in any way was the whole scene in the underworld at the beginning of the last Olympian, but I already tackled that whole scene here:

I would agree that their relationship very much deteriorated in Hoo, mostly because Rick wrote especially Percy pretty OOC, but even in that series, I would never describe Percy’s treatment of Nico as horrible.  

Nico and Percy are together with Hazel my favourite Riordan verse characters, and I really hate how many people pretend like Percy was this horrible person, who always treated Nico shitty, or that they don’t genuinely care for each other. This misconception might be,(together with the “dumb-Percy-stereotype) the take I hate the most in this fandom, and really hurts both of their characters.

Since I struggle with understanding the difference between romantic and platonic attraction, I just need to make it clear that Nico di Angelo makes sense to me despite all of that. As a kid in elementary school who was bullied, who had no friends except my parents, I found comfort in books. People in books don't judge. They don't feel as scary or as imposing as people in real life. And Nico di Angelo was a character who made me feel less alone. Nobody liked him either. He also had no friends. Everyone thought he was weird. And that validation… that validation made him a childhood favourite. I couldn't have explained it as well back then, but I always knew I loved him.

Since I was a kid who never, ever felt romance, the Cupid stuff always went over my head. Maybe now that i'm approaching 20, i'll understand it more. But even if I don't, I get why Nico likes the dead more than the living. It's the same reason Leo likes machines more than real people. Real people are confusing, unpredictable, difficult to work with. Real people are also cruel, judgemental and unkind. But machines and ghosts…machines are predictable. They work in a way you can understand. And ghosts have suffered pain. They can at least understand isolation and loneliness.

And I don't think I ever did understand why Nico had a crush on Percy, because I was a kid for whom romance was just a thing in books and movies (never a real thing to be felt). I just knew that Percy Jackson was the one who was freaked out by him when he learned he was a son of hades, who got annoyed internally when young nico asked too many questions, who broke his promise to keep his sister safe. Percy Jackson was horrible to Nico, and it is not talked about enough. I don't care that they made peace (at least not when I wrote this in a passionate frenzy)!

I want some recognition of how everyone Nico liked hurt him! His sister abandoned him for the hunters! Percy promised to keep her safe, but failed! Everyone at Camp Half-Blood shunned Nico for being a child of hades! Every time we see Nico in these books, people are discussing how freaked out he makes them. Every. Single. Time. Every Time! This kid is the universe's punching bag, and he deserves countless apologies from everyone!

[mrnnki]

anybody know any place a hobbyist writer can stick their original stories that isn't garbage?

[moresrush]

By the gods, you are terrified of loving a man who tries to help everyone he meets --- but you chide him for his selflessness and you remind him, again and again, that you intend to keep him WHOLE as you travel together on land and sea. He, in turn, reminds you that he is no pushover, that it is the two of you against the world --- and someone should start warning people. He's going to make big changes, and you fear the ones he will instill in you the most.

[deoidesign]

Can you make a tutorial on how you world build and make ocs? I can't seem to make any people in my brain, but then when I try to come up with environments jobs, beliefs and little details to slowly come up with someone, I think: well I don't really know how people have influenced the world- it's a weird loop

To be honest, I don't think I can! Writing is an extremely personal process. The way I write is directly related to how I process things, what I find important in stories, years of my own analysis of my and other's writing, etc... The way you write will be unique to you, as well. But I can explain how I personally think of it.

The short answer:

Write. Write anything and everything, it's a tool to explore your ideas. Analyze your own writing, and write more. Then, as you discover which ideas you want to develop, write more to explore them more. You won't know what you want otherwise!

The long answer:

I think this kind of loop is common. It's easy to feel like everything needs to be done "at once," because our job as writers is to make elements logically fit with each other for our readers. But as you've discovered, developing multiple elements simultaneously isn't really possible, or at least is extremely difficult.

Personally, when I think of writing, I break it into three major elements; characters, world, and plot. As much as possible every scene explores one or more of these, and as much as possible these three things tie back into what I personally consider most important: theme.

Everything I do is in service of the themes I want to present. Without them my events feel aimless. It can take a while to discover them, but they're the core of my work. You will have to discover what you feel is the core of yours. Analyzing other media helps with this too.

Concepts in your brain exist in a state of infinite potential. But when you start writing you have to start making choices, which removes potential as you move forward... But you have to move forward anyways. If there's ideas you want to explore later, you can always explore them later.

What this ends up meaning, to answer your question, is that I don't think of my characters as "people in my brain" or my worlds as something people have influenced... Not at their core, at least. They are tools that I use to represent specific ideas. Obviously they're also my blorbos, but mostly they're serving a specific narrative purpose.

So above all else... Write. Write, and discover what you're writing about, and then start over and write with that in mind. Keep doing this. But you have to write!

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!