#{ Let me know if this doesn't work or if you need anything changed! }

[bunni-v1]

Something that's been on my mind for so long is lighter/harumasa x chubby! Reader, coming from someone chubby I hate how my body doesn't fit multiple outfits or my rolls whenever I sit down. But oh my goodness it's been on my mind o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

🍓Every time a chubby bitch (affectionate) feels insecure a fairy dies. Not to be weird but I fucking love chubby people, they're so fucking hot, I will burn down all of society for them. These r short btw, sorry. I personally have had the opposite issue weight-wise my whole life, so I didn't wanna pretend like I knew what you go through lol.

Lighter Lorenz

-Lighter prefers his partner to have more meat on their bones, I'm 100% sure. (Hoyoverse told me). Having more of you to hold and love would never be a bad thing, and it irritates him when people insinuate their partners being bigger is a bad thing.

-He doesn't really leave room for you to feel insecure about yourself, because he's so very in love with all of you. If you even utter a negative word about yourself he's looking at you with this adorable pouty glare, getting ready to kiss you stupid so you'll shut up.

-He's great for your self-esteem because he makes you feel so amazing and pretty. He peppers you with kisses, especially over parts of your skin you find particularly ugly. He will shower you with love until you also love yourself as much as he does.

-If you're worried about being too heavy for him to hold or anything, that's not a problem either. Lighter is strong, and easily lifts you up regardless of how heavy you are. You weigh nothing to him, honestly, and it's not even a challenge.

-It's not just him, though. The girls also love you, and they won't let you feel bad about the way your body looks. Lighter comes with your own personal hype squad attached, it seems.

-Help the stupid soul that makes you feel insecure. Lighter is like your valiant Knight in Leather Armor. If someone has an issue with you, they have an issue with him, and he's happy to prove that to them if need be.

Harumasa Asaba

-Harumasa is, how do I put this... weight blind? He's just not the kind of guy to really give that much of a shit about little things like that. Life is too short to be picky about the person you fall in love with, and he honestly wouldn't want you to change anything for him anyway.

-Chubby, skinny, tall, short, whatever, it doesn't matter that much to him. You are you, that's all that matters right? Well, if you're feeling bad about yourself, then it matters a little bit. He doesn't want you thinking he doesn't care about your feelings.

-Always, always assures you that you look so good in everything -- and equally, he's always willing to prove that he thinks you look good. He can't promise the clothes will survive, but if it'll make you feel better the clothes can be nobly sacrificed.

-And, yeah, he uses the "You're more comfortable to cuddle," argument on you all the time. It's true, though. You are very comfortable to lay on and sleep with. The soft squish of your warm tummy is the perfect resting spot after a long day of work.

-If someone's bothering you or making you feel bad, he's the type to come over and flip it around on them. He's very good at finding people's insecurities, after all. If they want to make you feel bad, they should know what it feels like too! It's only fair, right?

[nadas-dirthalen]

I don't think I can ever forgive Solas personally for the way he used Varric's death as a manipulation tool against Rook. As someone who experienced the recent loss of a loved one in my life, realizing what he did to Rook and imagining someone taking away my autonomy to grieve and accept the loss makes me feel so disgust toward him. And to use the image of Varric, someone who was always protective and loyal to his friends? It angers me more, as it feel like such a disrespect act for Solas to do with Varric's image, especially as Solas was arguably once one of his friends. I still question if Solas ever understood what it meant to be alive as a mortal or if he was so caught up in continuing to see himself as some spirit of Wisdom, he denied how he had changed or that life is not as simple/much more vastly different than his once pure Spirit self believed. If he did, would he have treated Varric's death as a tool to use against Rook in the same callous way he did?

Absolutely love Solas' role as Veilguard's antagonist and how it provokes so many emotions and debates on his actions and how to deal with him. Hating his former colleagues is easy, they're batcrap insane and power hungry, but Solas? His actions hurt so much more than anything those two could ever do because we know him in Inquisition; we know, as flawed as he was, he was capable of good, and yet ends up taking actions similar to that of the people he once fought against. But yeah, even though I had the tools for the arguably 'good' ending, there's a reason I chose to fight him and force him into the Veil: He just lost a lot of my sympathy for what he did and I didn't think he deserved a gentle sending off, harsh as it may sound.

Hello anon!! First off, let me say this: you're totally valid to feel as you do about Solas, and even though I don't share your opinion of him, I definitely had a moment of, "Oh god, that was reprehensible."

I think the difference, here, is that my Rook was feeling the feelings you're describing. My Rook would have a hard time wanting to redeem Solas, and only did so for the sake of my Inquisitor.

But the longer I went on after playing Veilguard, the more I realized... that was intentional. That was the point BioWare was making in the third act of Veilguard, and they did it beautifully.

We're supposed to hate him. Let me explain.

We all know what Solas did in the end of Veilguard, and what we find out he's been doing from the very beginning with Varric. What I want to talk about is Solas' conversation with the Inquisitor in Trespasser.

PC: You said that the elven gods went too far. What did they do that made you move against them? Solas: They killed Mythal. (Chuckles.) A crime for which an eternity of torment is the only fitting punishment.

We find out in Veilguard that everything Solas has done, no matter how awful, no matter how violent, has been to bring back the world that Mythal knew before she was killed by the other Evanuris. The one where she was whole. Where Solas, in his mind, had not yet failed her.

Whether or not his actions are good for Thedas (and in most cases, they aren't), Solas does them anyway, consumed by his grief and his need to avenge Mythal. He doesn't think through the creation of the Veil. We see this in a note from Felassan to Solas that is found (I believe) in the Crossroads. He does it anyway, even though even the companions notice that the process hurts him. Badly.

We know, as players, that redeeming Solas leads to him vowing to help soothe the anger of the titans. He works toward his atonement. It is extremely important and powerful that there are many people out there who, knowing this, choose to fight Solas anyway.

Solas also knows, logically, that the world will burn if he takes down the Veil. That doesn't matter to him. What matters is his grief.

We know that, logically, Thedas is worse off if Solas is fought into Fade Jail rather than convinced to go of his own volition by redeeming him. To some players, that doesn't matter. What matters is their grief, like you're saying here.

"An eternity of torment is the only fitting punishment."

In this way, Rook becomes Solas. By choosing to fight him rather than swallowing down their own feelings and pain for the greater good, Rook perpetuates the cycle of violence—for better or worse. And here's the thing: you are justified in this. Your Rook is justified in this. That's why, I think, Solas is written the way he is in Veilguard. BioWare wanted to show that those people who hate Solas have ample reason to do so. They wanted to show what Solas is like with people he doesn't value—and Rook is one such person in act 1 of the story, when he chooses to do blood magic on them.

Redeeming him means Rook taking a chance on Solas' redemption despite the pain he's caused, even if he doesn't deserve it, for the chance at Solas becoming something better. This shows what I think is true of the cycle of violence: that sometimes, it is a deeply uncomfortable and counterintuitive process. But sometimes, that is the only way a cycle of violence is stopped, for better or worse. We acknowledge the pain caused by those who hurt us, but refuse to inflict the same pain upon others, no matter how much pain we feel. It is deeply uncomfortable and counter-intuitive, but sometimes walking away from a situation is all we can do. (and of course I do not believe this is the right course of action in all situations, but Solas is a fictional character, and I believe this angle on his story is reasonable and poignant because it is fiction. real life is infinitely more complex, but Solas' arc isn't meant to be an exact representation of real life: it's to mean something.)

This was the last way, I think, that BioWare drew a strong parallel between Solas and the player. During the DAI quest "In Hushed Whispers," they show us that our seeing the alternate timeline as "not real" mirrors how Solas feels about waking up in present-day Thedas after creating the Veil. Now, they show us that his singular desire for revenge is something that is possible for even us, the players, who knows these are all characters made of pixels, to feel.

I think this is why Epler has said he advocated for an ending where you can fight Solas. Not because he hates Solas (I assure you, he does not), but because it is of tremendous importance to Solas' thematic statement that the player can act on their anger, their pain, toward him—because that is what Solas has been doing to Thedas this entire time.

Thank you for sending me this. I hope you know that I think you're valid for wanting to fight Solas, even though that isn't the ending I choose. It's people like you who help make Solas such a fun, interesting character, and who help highlight just how cool he is to me. You can love him, you can hate him, but I have yet to find a person who's 100% neutral on him. And I love that for us.

[suguwu]

do you think your llo universe would work with the roles reversed? i think it's much better with sae being the one who disappeared and rin picking up the pieces but do you think rin could have been chasing sae and their dream and not realized he has a child? sae being the one to pick up the pieces would be an insane change of pace and would still be very very heartbreaking i feel.

hi anon!

honestly, i think you make make almost anything work in fic if you try hard enough! i do think it makes more sense to have sae being the one who disappeared because of the way the relationships play out and how they connect with each other (specifically rin's somewhat implied confusion about whether he likes llo!reader for her or if it started out as wanting what his brother had). BUT! it could definitely work in reverse!

i think the thing i would have the hardest time explaining is sae's decision not to tell rin. in llo, rin's animosity towards sae helps him overcome that particular moral qualm, whereas sae doesn't have that drive regarding his brother. and let's be real, sae isn't exactly the type to do what he's told just because he's told to do it. keeping your secret would be an inconvenience to him, and i could see that altering the fic.

BUT AGAIN! WE CAN MAKE IT WORK! maybe sae never really saw what rin saw in you. until he comes across you carrying a child with rin's eyes on your hip. you turn on your heel and try to disappear down the little alley draped in vines, moss climbing its way up the bent traffic sign at the very end of it.

sae follows without thinking about it.

you whirl around. your eyes are blazing; you cup the child to you protectively. you bare your teeth. "what do you want, itoshi?"

sae watches you for a moment. your fingers tighten in the powder-blue fabric of your child's shirt, crinkling the pressed material. the baby shifts in your grip, babbling and batting at your earring.

"does rin know?"

"don't ask questions you know the answer to."

he blinks.

you're fiercer than he remembers, your fangs whetted sharp. you'd always been polite, deferential. distant in a soft way, the way the horizon melts between earth and sky.

something in him stirs.

"goodbye, itoshi."

"wait."

you glance back over your shoulder; he can just see the baby's eyes, too, the color of the tropical sea, a burning turquoise. so like his brother's.

"give me your phone number."

"no."

"i can ask rin for it, if you'd prefer."

frost creeps over you, a cobweb of winter. sae watches it harden you; how it dims the flame in your eyes.

still, you bare your teeth as you give it to him.

"i'll call you."

"i wish you wouldn't," you say, your voice a crack of thunder. "i don't need an itoshi in my life."

he glances at the baby. "i think you already have one."

your lips flatten into a thin line. "goodbye, itoshi."

you disappear into the settling night quickly. sae watches you go.

he doesn't have a lot of time in japan, this trip, but he thinks he knows exactly what he'll do with it.

[sulkybender]

hey! long time lover of your avatar works, and I have a question. I just finished watching arcane, and pls take this in good faith, but what is so compelling about Jayce? I definitely understand the hype/popularity around Viktor, but I find Jayce very boring in comparison to Vi's storyline, or Ekko and Jinx, or Mel and the black rose stuff - they're all very compelling to me, and as I watched I found that during Jayce's scenes I was kind of just waiting to get back to the other characters. I didn't really feel any tension between him and Viktor, which I know doesn't really matter in fandom, I'm just wondering what draws you to them instead of say, Vi and Cait. this could just be me wishing for more wlw ship popularity I acknowledge that. but I do want to understand what's so appealing about the ship :)

Aww hey! I’ll do my best.

I was hesitant with Jayce in season 1—he had a kind of prettiness I don’t always trust, and his earnestness was so earnest I didn’t know if I could believe him. And then season 2 really changed him for me (and, by extension, made me look at season 1 in a different light).

Part of it is his brokenness in season 2, which really humanized him as a character for me. And then his devotion, his loyalty, the pain and yearning in his eyes. If season 1 is about Jayce’s naivety and the mistakes he makes—if even the first episode of season 2 is about this—the rest of the season is about the lengths he’ll go to atone for those mistakes.

And a large part of what changes him, what teaches him, is living through what Viktor lived through—living in the darkness of the fissures in pain, crawling out of it on a leg like Viktor’s now, understanding him for the first time in an awful and moving way. If Viktor comes back wrong in season 2 so does Jayce. In post-canon fics I think about the way the show depicts his PTSD, how the arcane damaged his mind.

There are parallels between Jayce, Silco, and Singed—people who love so deeply and blindly they will do anything to save the person they love, even if they come back so broken and wrong. Jayce is the only one out of that trio who regrets it and tries to make up for it, and somehow his choices are always underlined as much by his love for Viktor as his love for the world and determination to save it.

And Jayvik just really has my whole heart when we see how their love for each other transcends bodies and time. He loves Viktor and tries to save him even when he’s a towering eldritch-horror god; Viktor goes back in time to save him as a child over and over, even when he knows that giving Jayce the rune, that starting Hextech, will be the end of the world. They love each other too much to let go of each other. And that kind of unconditional devotion is so beautiful to me, staggering, magnificent.

And when you go back to season 1 and see everything between them in silent gestures and unspoken pain—the way Jayce is always gently touching and helping Viktor without condescending to him, the way Viktor keeps his suffering to himself—I just find that unbearable in the best way.

There’s a lot of Sokka in this boy when you look. His inventiveness, his determination, his loyalty. His willingness to have his mind changed.

It’s funny you ask this now because I’ve been writing a post-canon fic that kind of focuses on everything I love about Jayce. Which is… arguably kind of what all my post-canon fics are like lmao. But that pure blind love, when you just know how much Viktor will need it if they come out alive together… Ughhh my heart.

This guy!!

.

[arliedraws]

I've seen your posts about AI. I also know it's a pretty polarizing topic and what the majority opinion is, especially in regards to art and writing. And being an artist myself, I totally agree that it sucks, like you have to pay attention and all, but.... I hardly dare to say this because I know how emotional the discourse around AI is, especially on a platform like tumblr, which sometimes seems so strong that I don't participate in a discussion about this topic at all because I feel like people here would hound me for it, but I still use different AI software, but not in the way that I use it to create something that I can publish and pretend that I spent hours creating it myself. I think it can be really helpful.

If I need information about something quickly, it's more efficient than spending a lot of time searching different websites for a particular piece of information.

I also like to think of it as a group member when I'm working on projects. That doesn't mean that I get the ideas from it and then just copy them. In the same way that group work is beneficial, you pass the ball to each other with the AI and exchange ideas that you can then develop further. Or it can help you if you're looking for another word to describe something better, like a dictionary. And I still know how to use real dictionaries or do proper research, because I know that AI can make mistakes and you shouldn't believe everything. Just like it is with information from the internet in general. Anyway, now I come to the actual “confession”, which is that I also use it, not to let the AI create the art, but as a tool to help myself creating it. I usually use reference images for drawings to help me get the scene itself or the anatomy correct etc. Andy capture it properly. But sometimes I have a very specific scene in mind and can't find a suitable reference, and it can take me hours to find something that fits. So I like to use AI to create that reference for me, because unfortunately I don't have people modeling for me and personally it helps me extremely to have examples to work from.

Idk where exactly I'm going with this. But since the general opinion on generative ai seems very clear here, I wanted to finally get this off my chest because I always kept my moth shut being afraid of how others might react, even though I think that my methods are still quite legitimate, as I still do the real work myself. Anyway, I'm looking forward to your opinion.

Ahhhh okay, well, thanks for the vulnerability here.

You know my opinion on AI. I’m not going to tell you you’re a terrible person or anything for using it, but I’m also not going to justify your personal decisions. Instead, I invite you to change your perspective.

My opinion is this—and it’s more of a question: why are you creating the art? I’m going to hit a few of your main points and just pose questions because I think this gets to be more philosophical than a cut-and-dry “if you use AI, you are a bad guy.” Because I don’t think that—I also don’t think you should use it.

The reason I don’t blame people for being attracted to using AI is because as human beings, we’re designed to find the most efficient way to do things. Thinking and using creativity is a huge caloric expenditure. Right? Naturally, we’re attracted to ways that things can be done FOR us and reduce our cognitive load. Your brain is working as it was designed! But this is also a really cool way to take away your voice and mold you into someone who cannot think for themself.

(This is also what you’re doing by “confessing” to me. You’re unloading your cognitive/emotional burden so you can keep on doing the thing you know is probably a bit shady.)

First of all, I don’t know you, so I don’t know what your art training is. However, you need to train your brain to start coming up with stuff on your own. I am really sorry, but I don’t buy the “I don’t have enough references.” When there are free resources like Unsplash.com and even just looking at buildings around you, the furniture in your house, etc, you DO have the references. But you need to learn how to use them. This is a tool.

Second thing, if the reference isn’t exactly what you need, then you need to start learning volume and shapes. You need to study anatomy. Eventually, you will be able to look at a reference and understand how perspective works and be able to transform a reference in your head to what you need. OR - start combining references. If I’m doing a full scene, I probably have about 5-6 reference photos I’m working from. This is a tool.

Third, start taking photos of yourself for reference images. If you can’t find what you need, do that. I periodically have to go into my camera roll to delete the god-awful reference poses for myself. This is a tool.

Fourth, start a collection of things that “strike you.” Start a reference blog. Have a folder filled with images that intrigue you. Personally, I take an insane number of photos when I’m traveling. For example, I went to a mansion for a tour and took photos of all the early 20th century objects and rooms so I would have these in my arsenal. This is a tool.

My fundamental question is this—why are you having an algorithm create what’s in your head for you? Why not learn how to do these things instead? Your imagination is so cool. The process of creating is making happy mistakes. What do you think Bob Ross would say to you? When you use AI, you’re just copying. The imaginative part has been done for you. You’re just a tool of the robot.

We do so much to avoid frustration, but frustration is the part of creating. When we can see the skills we need to learn, that’s how we know we’re improving. It means you’re trying, and when you press through that discomfort, that’s when you grow. Stop seeing this as a block to your end goal but as an opportunity to continue your infinite journey as an artist. Celebrate that there are so many beautiful things to learn.

Additionally, please don’t see AI as a group project. A group project indicates that all parties involved consent to participate, and I know most artists do not want their art to be used in this way. Imagine if you learned to do all the things I’ve described above and taken time/years/frustration/love to develop these skills, and someone years later then took your work and said “It’s okay - we ALL contributed to this.” It’s just not true.

The artists you see online don’t simply sit down and draw a bunch of cool stuff without practice. I watch Youtube videos of professionals. I draw a gazillion sketches of just MOUTHS or hands so I can create my own references in my mind. Why would you deprive yourself of this?

Look, I think it comes down to this: if you’re looking for efficiency and ‘getting it done’ quickly, then why are you doing it? Are you enjoying the process? If you aren’t, why are you even doing it?

If you need a robot to imagine something for you, then you don’t actually want to do it.

[sunflower1experiment]

SO...ONE MORE RANT CUZ I DON'T PAY ATTENTION sob

I just recently found out Jimmy didn't hurt Anya after the layoff, but way before. Which makes so much sense, and it hurts more and I'm sad I forgot, sooo I truly do not feel bad for Jimmy when I say I despise him even with how complex he is.

How did I forget/scramble it? Because as someone who saw Anya at her best in Curly's perspective you tend to miss stuff like Jimmy disrespecting Anya and her holding her stomach after worrying about her savings. I assumed it was a nervous move she does, and after the layoff he decided he really had nothing to lose. So, he just went off with the disrespect because he does to Daisuke as well with "Mommy and Daddy" phrase. But I went back and watched, yea she was really trying to stay strong for the sake of keeping the peace.

But seeing as how, easy it was for Jimmy to lash out at Curly over some bad news, because of Curly playing friend instead of Captain with Jimmy. She hides the gun, tells Curly twice about what Jimmy did and Curly's verbal support was nice but what Anya needed was more support. Emotions were high, Anya sees the best in people in their monstruous, worse moments: So she confronts Jimmy, alone...He could've hit her anything but storms out to grab the gun. Upon realizing she hid it or maybe Curly hid it, he decides to crash it to simply kill her, he doesn't think about the others. Except the fact that this whole thing could be a tragedy, Curly should have taken the hint there but was the silent, complicit bystander.

Now this is where the what ifs come in, Curly tells Anya. You should've been with me to confront him. I feel like in theory that if they both had confronted Jimmy, it would have been slightly better/different but wouldn't change their fate per say. Which is tragic when you think about it, there are so many what ifs.

Beyond the what ifs there is the "whom is at fault" In my pov, Jimmy and Pony Express are forever at fault. Pony Express acts like a typical money hungry company, Jimmy while he was mentally unstable had many chances to get his act together, but he had a self-victimization mindset. The only time he ever considers to even care for everyone else is when he can pin the blame onto Curly or someone else. The party, he exclaims that Curly wants to get away from them and tries to act like he cares. But proceeds to disrespect Anya and Daisuke.

He already has a perception of Anya and Daisuke, Anya this unaccomplished nurse who can't get into medical because she's....well let's just be real. Daisuke's fine because mommy and daddy have him covered.

He literally degrades Anya then infantilizes Daisuke and jabs at him for having help. He's simply projecting.

I know I rant about him and Pony Express a lot, but I like to discuss it. Because it gives me the chance to point out that this whole game is calling out a lot of things. "Complicite bystander", "Abusive work places", "Abusive people", "Holding someone accountable", and Taking responsibility.

Not just Jimmy, but Swansea, Pony Express, and Curly. Curly blames himself for not taking responsibility for Anya's safety because she is his priority, Swansea also blames himself for Daisuke. While he fails both him and Anya, he does try to atone. But he was still complicit during Anya's continued abuse. Jimmy never takes responsibility, just like how Pony Express will never take responsibility for practically sending them all on a practical suicide mission.

Pony Express sends them off with the remaining Cargo, fires them, they discover it's mouthwash which signifies how much everyone is worth on this ship. This includes Jimmy, their worth is now compared to a sugary bottle of alcohol....

Jimmy waters the people he abuses worths down, and when it happens to him. He's going through it mentally, but so are the others. Does he care? Not really, in a way he's the abusive aspect of Pony Express, they don't take the psych evals seriously, he doesn't either. They only show them to pretend they care, he asks Curly how he's feeling to pretend he cares then turns around and uses it against him.

Now don't get me wrong, Jimmy is smart, but not that smart. He's smart in terms of emotional manipulation but in terms of the consequences of his actions coming back to bite him. Not one bit, he knew how to spike a drink, knew how to crash the ship, knew how to manipulate Curly and make it about himself. But didn't expect everything to not work out, he expected everything and everyone to just accept and praise him.

Anya is not going to praise you for giving the pills three times, Swansea isn't going to praise you for claiming the role of Captain, and Daisuke while Jimmy believes is naive, he's not going to praise you for emotionally manipulating him and trying to twist the story about Anya and Swansea.

We all know Daisuke had a gut feeling about Jimmy but he was so focused on wanting to impress Swansea it sadly got him hurt.

Now lets rewind back to the responsibility part, Anya.

Anya was also complicit like Curly, I know it breaks my heart to even think about that but it's true. Curly is her patient, and she knows Jimmy is abusive she sees it firsthand twice and so does Curly. They parallel one another because of it, being pregnant, miscarrying most likely and seeing your abuser roam free, it does a lot.

We also gotta remember that Jimmy never sees Anya at all, the only time he ever does is when he has to give Curly pills. Which is three times, he uses that as a chance to perceive her as this clingy, crying nurse who can't do her job....even though she's been caring for Curly for 3 months straight. Then after her death he doesn't even know what to do to care for Daisuke and Curly, which is ironic because he and Swansea both talk crap about her work ethics but don't even know what to do without her.

It shows how they don't know what they're talking about and how that something/someone they believed was insignificant could make a huge difference in the situation.

All those times she didn't give Curly his meds, it was because of nausea, "The baby", second time is she was telling Swansea about Jimmy, she's grieving, and Swansea told her his plan. Third time it's because she's uncomfortable because Curly cannot consent to it, and Jimmy goes off, do these justify the abuse of her patient and her complicity, no not at all. But it just shows how much of a struggle she's going through and let's not forget that her baby bump was probably getting bigger, but Jimmy ignores it because he believes it's not his fault but instead hers.

It's so tragic how everyone lost their lives, simply because the company didn't care to tend to their safety and because Jimmy wouldn't take responsibility.

Sorry if this is confusing, jumbled and makes everything sad. There is a lot to analyze.

One thing we can all agree on is, Capitalism, work abuse, and Company greed was a huge part of the problem. It sounds small and a small detail in the game but also a huge problem. Pony Express is lazy and cheap- Anya, Pony Express bankrupt and laying everyone off illegally.

Pony Express not having safety locks for the sleeping rooms except the medical room and cockpit- Anya

Pony Express not doing background checks - Jimmy

Pony Express having psych evals but not pressing the importance of it because they do not care about their workers. And said workers not taking it seriously thus leading to the nurse being harassed.

[halitis]

Teen Roy Harper and Oliver Queen shenanigans? I usually just see grown up Roy with Ollie but I crave more of a father - son bond.

ty for sending through the ask! they send me fucking INSANE!!! i love complex parent-child relationships and i think a lot of people see roy’s speedy era with ollie as just. all bad. but it isn’t! ollie is a good dad overall, yes he has had horrible moments and made lots of mistakes but he did work hard to fix his wrongs (n-52 ollie and roy's first re-meeting can go suck my left tit).

(sorry i took so long to respond! these posts actually take quite a while to type out, and get my thoughts down.)

the first time roy got sick while he was with ollie, ollie was stressing. he’s not ready for this! stitches? easy. girl troubles? no problem. but a fever and runny nose? oh god oh fuck. he’s relying on what he’s seen parents do in movies, so he decides to read roy a story! roy is certainly too old for this and also Doesn’t Love reading, but he bears it because it’s kinda funny for a bit. after like third time ollie tries, roy just goes “pls. you don’t have to do this. lets just watch a movie or something.”. now it becomes a tradition that whenever one of them gets sick, the other will just chill and watch movies with them. they don’t need to talk, the quiet company is much better.

roy genuinely looks up to ollie, so much. he admires the man in everyway, roy grows as a person in ollie's presence. roy developed his sense of justice and ethics from ollie (you can see it through how they both prefer to try and change the system over the individual). i think for the longest time, ollie could do no wrong in roys eyes, which is why their relationship fell apart so harshly because roy had unrealistic expectations of the man and ollie wss just... Not being a good father in this moment. it took a while to adjust his self worth to not be based off his perceived value to others.

[continued under read more]

ollie may be a lot of things, but he is Not dumb enough to not give roy the sex talk. is it the best? probably not. but he was VERY serious about having it when roy moved in, because he remembers himself as a teenager and is just like "oh god. oh GOD..." (he likes to think hes not like regina georges mum, but he deffo is.... ur getting old dude :/ sorry to tell you)

(DONT COMMENT ON THE FACT THAT HES WATCHING PORN. IM AWARE. I DONT QUESTION ANYTHING THIS MAN DOES ANYMORE)

when ollie first starts going out with someone, roy goes and gives ollie the exact same talk. in front of his date. ollie is just like "ahaha.... kids right?" roy has to spend the night at hal's house hiding out from him. (not out of any serious fear of repercussion, more playful).

i know the stereotype is that ollie's always getting into fights over politics, but it is actually so incredibly both of them. these two only increase in energy and passion when with each other. catch ollie going "YEAH THATS MY BOY!" when roy is chewing the fuck out of someone.

to me? they are both so autistic... idc no one can convince me otherwise. ollie doesn't realise till he hits his late teens, and even then hes in denial about it. he comes to terms with it a bit better after the island, so when he starts to recognise the same things in roy? he is quick to give that boy all the support he needs. he refuses to even let anyone talk shit or about it near roy, because he is so petrified of the the same internalised ableism he had manifesting in roy too.

ollie gets a small tattoo for roy, nothing big. probably just a little one on his back or ankle or something. he didn't even really plan to do it? it just happened. he sends roy a pic after its done and roy is just. emotionally wrecked.... he does not know what to say.... how does he even express what this means to him? its a permanent commitment to him. (he ends up just messaging back "looks ugly :/", ollie can read between the lines well enough to know what he means).

the first near death experience roy has with ollie he gets Fucked Up over it... he's already lost 2 other father figures, he can't lose another. he doesn't say anything about it, but hes attatched to the hip for ollie for at least 2 weeks... ollie didnt even realise why till he mentioned it off handedly to diana and shes like.... thats a child. hes scared. Fix It. they still dont talk about it, but ollie stops getting snappy at roy for following him around.

okay i have more to say, but im actively about to get in the car so i gotta go!!! anyone feel free to send another ask if they want me to finish up laterz!

aND FOR U ANON... WHO WAITED 50 YEARS FOR ME TO FINISH THIS.....

I <3 U

[calling-miya]

The Deception of Color - Squid Game - Chapter 1

Characters - Park Gyeong-seok (Player 246), Yoon Ji-lon (oc, Player 77)

Fic Summary - Two people have the unfortunate luck of having the same idea.

Chapter Summary - The hospital is an overbearing place that can lead to bad decisions for a good reason.

Word Count - 4,591

Warnings - cancer, sickness, hospitals, not beta read, not edited

A/N : cross-posted to A03. I don't speak Korean nor have I ever visited South Korea. It's a bit confusing using the character's names because I know there are all types of honorifics to be used. Please let me know in the comments for the things I should do differently and change. That is, if anyone actually reads this obscure fic. If you want something to exist, though, and it doesn't exist already, you must do it yourself. I call myself a pioneer.

The drip drip drip of the machine kept Ji-lon awake. The little girl asleep on the hospital bed did not stir, though. Ji-lon was thankful for that. She had been awake constantly as of recently with the treatments and whatnot. It was good this girl was getting sleep. However, Ji-lon wished the same grace was allowed unto her.

She tossed and turned on the flimsy couch against the wall of the room. She refused to turn her back on Na-yeon, though. So she became incredibly uncomfortable for laying in the same position for so long. Still she refused to move. She became quickly restless and she sat up, finally giving up on any sleep for the night.

It was only when Ji-lon was certain that Na-yeon was sound asleep did she creep out of the room and close the sliding door as quietly as she could. Because it was nighttime, many of the lights of the hospital were off. It created quite an unsettling ambience where she was unsure of what was around the corner. For some odd reason, she worried that she may run into a doctor. It wasn’t as if she was doing anything untrustworthy, and she had every right to be there. But she just couldn’t deal with any more depressing glances as they recognized her. Na-yeon had come to this hospital plenty of times for them to be familiar with all three of their faces.

Ji-lon found herself in the cafeteria. She sat at a table by herself, nursing a cup of burnt coffee. Since she had given up on sleep, she couldn’t allow herself to suddenly pass out. She sipped it slowly because it burned her tongue. That was okay. Soon enough she wouldn’t recognize the burn and would be able to drink it completely. 

“Miss Ji-lon.”

She looked up to see a familiar face. “Oh,” she said. “Doctor. I thought you would have gone home for the night.” 

“Please,” he said. “Call me Seong-min.”

“Right,” Ji-lon answered. “Seong-min.”

The doctor smiled. He was not the doctor assigned to Na-yeon’s case, but he was a friendly face at the very least. He had been there to help when it was needed. “Mind if I sit?” He gestured to the empty chair across.

“Of course not.”

Seong-min nodded gratefully and pulled the chair back. He took his seat and folded his hands on the table, giving her a warm smile. That was the exact sort of smile that Ji-lon was sick of getting. Pitying looks. Acceptance glares. She was just so tired of people accepting the inevitability of what would happen to that girl.

“I guess I understand,” Ji-lon said, eyes on her paper cup. “Doctors have such a busy schedule. I’m just not used to being in hospitals. Do you really work so often?”

“Not always,” Seong-min explained. “This place is a lot like a second home. I like it here. I do good work with good people. Well,” he glanced over his shoulder. “Mostly good people.” He winked. “Seriously. Some of the attendants here have an attitude.”

Ji-lon smiled softly. “Yes. So I’ve learned.”

“And, er…” Seong-min started. “How have you been dealing?”

Where she once just smiled fell into a depressed expression. “The same as anyone would be.”

“I mean… You haven’t been sleeping. I can tell,” he gestured to his eyes. “Your eyes are very heavy. You should get some rest.”

“I will when her father returns,” she argued gently, bringing up the coffee cup to her lips and taking a sip. She was right. It no longer burned. Not because it was no longer hot, but because her tongue no longer noticed it. She set down the cup. “He will be here by the morning.”

“He’s retrieving things from your home, correct?”

“No. Their home,” she corrected. Her bottom lip twitched. “I don’t… I don’t live with them.” Before Seong-min could ask any questions, Ji-lon answered them for him. “However. I stay with them on occasion. He is bringing clothes for Na-yeon.” The memory of her bright pink room tickled the back of her brain. She had spent many nights sleeping on the floor of that room when Na-yeon couldn’t sleep while her father had picked up another odd job.

“If you don’t mind my asking…” The doctor started. Ji-lon did mind, but she allowed him to continue out of tiredness. “What is your relationship to Na-yeon?”

“I…” She’s mine, was Ji-lon’s first instinct. It was so simple to say, and so true. Na-yeon was hers. If not in blood, then in love. But Ji-lon wasn’t her mother. She knew that. But she couldn’t have just been nobody, either. “I grew up with her father.” It was a quick explanation, and certainly a lot had been left out. 

The truth is that Ji-lon was not always Ji-lon. She had been adopted from the States by her adoptive parents and brought to Seoul. She grew up in the city, learning Korean diligently. Many of the other students were rude and avoided her. But never Park Gyeong-seok. He was a few years older than her and lived next door. The two of them did everything together. By the time they reached high school, though, they had taken different paths. Gyeong-seok became very interested in art while Ji-lon became interested in teaching. 

After high school, Ji-lon returned to the states for an abroad learning experience having been given a scholarship due to her diligent grades. But Gyeong-seok never excelled greatly in school. He did not attend college and instead pursued his career in art. He wanted to start his own animation studio. He ended up meeting his wife during that time.

“I should return to Na-yeon,” Ji-lon shook her head to rid herself of memories. She stood abruptly and bowed her head to Seong-min. “Thank you for your kind words.”

“Yes. If you ever need anything, Miss Ji-lon. Let me know. I’m always just around the corner.”

-

Ji-lon opened the sliding door to Na-yeon’s hospital room and stopped suddenly in her tracks. In the chair beside her bed was her father, Gyeong-seok. He was petting the girl’s head. His back was to the door, so Ji-lon could not make out his expression. But it could not have been anything but soft when it came to his daughter.

“You’re back…” Ji-lon said, eyes widening. “I… I only stepped out for a moment.”

Gyeong-seok did not turn around. Ji-lon hoped she did not look as tired as he did. If he had an issue with her stepping out, he did not voice it. He changed the topic, “I brought some of your clothes from the house. I’m certain it’s something you no longer wear, but… I thought you may want to change. The bag is on the couch…”

Ji-lon became suddenly aware of her current outfit. She had come straight from work as an afterschool helper in a little town right outside of the city. As soon as she got the news that Na-yeon had collapsed, she dropped everything right away and came straight to the hospital. 

“Oh,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

Gyeon-seok nodded. It appeared that he had changed too. Now he was only wearing a black shirt and a flannel with his dirty artist jeans. It made Ji-lon smile. He looked just like he did in highschool.

Ji-lon carefully took the folded clothes from the bag and went into the bathroom. She changed, shrugging the t-shirt over her head and pulled her arms through the holes. It was too big on her, and it occurred that it must’ve been one of his. She also pulled on a pair of jeans, something comfortable. She tugged at the hem of the shirt, content.

She flicked off the light and emerged from the bathroom, coming to sit in the second chair beside Gyeong-seok. His head was in his hands. 

“Hey,” she said, sitting down. Her hand went to rest on his shoulder softly. He looked up at her through the cracks in his fingers. “She’s going to be… okay.” She wanted to slap herself as soon as she hesitated. But the truth was that they didn’t know what was going to happen. Na-yeon was a very sick little girl. They’d been hoping the medication would have been working, but now it was clear it hadn’t. That had been the last effort before something irresistible. 

He did not answer.

Ji-lon bit her tongue and looked down, guilty. She didn’t know what to say to this man. Her best friend, the one who they’d gone through thick and thin together. But not this. Nothing like this.

When Na-yeon was first diagnosed at two years old, the two had been fairly confident. But that was before Gyeong-seok lost his job. Then the medication rose in price, and it became harder and harder to get their hands on the treatment the little girl so desperately needed. She had been doing well, too. Or at least appeared to be.

Tears gathered in Ji-lon’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she choked. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder to provide comfort had fallen back into her lap. “I’m so sorry.”

Gyeong-seok held an alarm in his eyes. “No, no.” He said, reaching for her. Immediately she leaned forward and rested her head against his chest, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders.

Her heart was in so much pain. Any more and she may have had to check herself into this very same hospital. But it must have been nothing to the absolute grief Gyeong-seok was currently undergoing. Ji-lon suddenly felt selfish. How dare she fall apart in his arms?

But then she realized he was crying as well. The silent kind of crying. He was always the quiet type. He took shaking breaths and sounded stuffed up as he breathed. She felt his air against her hair. It was warm compared to the cold air of the hospital. They always kept hospitals so cold because it was hard for illness to spread through it. But it didn’t matter. The cold was suffocating all the same.

Ji-lon was the one to pull away first, but only because her arm had begun to cramp. She rested her head against his shoulder and scooched her chair closer, so their thighs were touching. He had once made a joke that she was too touchy and that people would get the wrong idea about them. It was a flirtatious joke. Ji-lon told her co-workers about that comment. None of that mattered now. Now it was all about Na-yeon. The love they may or may not have had for each other was nothing compared to the love they had for her.

Both of her hands clasped his, while his other hand held Na-yeon’s. It was like they were all holding each other. A little family. 

Ji-lon tasted something bad in her mouth. She recalled an argument she and Gyeong-seok had at one point some time after Gyeong-seok lost his job and shortly after Na-yeon was diagnosed.

“I could get a second job?” she said. “It could work.”

“You barely have enough time in a day as it is,” he stated, sitting at the kitchen table. Once upon a time Ji-lon would’ve taken offense to his stern tone. But it had become normal at that point. The stress of it all had just been too much. He shook his head, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes. Ji-lon wanted to brush it aside but refrained from doing so. She crossed her arms instead. “Besides. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Fair?”  She said suddenly. “What do you mean fair?”

Gyeong-seok turned away from her tear-stained cheeks and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re doing enough for us as it is,” he inhaled deeply. “I can take another job.” He explained, as if the logistics were enough to keep themselves level-headed in this situation. “But I’ve already asked too much of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ji-lon asked softly, bending down in front of him and placing a hand on his thigh so he would actually look at her. 

Gyeon-seok turned to her slowly, eyes heavy with emotion. “You’re not her mother,” he said. “And you aren’t my wife. There is nothing I should expect from you…  and you certainly shouldn’t assume responsibility for us.” He took a shuddering breath.

She was stunned. She just stared at him and retracted her arm. The two years it had been since that fateful day in that maternity ward flashed before her eyes. She had been there when she was born. She had watched her take her first steps. She had been there for everything. 

He seemed to have realized his words. “Jil-on—”

“Is that what you think?” She stood up, brushing off her knees. “That I’m here because I’m obligated to be?”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“Do you really think so little of me?”

His eyes softened, but not enough for it to matter. For any of it to matter. 

Gyeong-seok nudged her shoulder with his. “Ji-lon,” he said. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” He murmured, reaching up and tilting her chin closer so he could examine the bags under her eyes. “Please.”

Ji-lon contemplated arguing against him, but there was no use. Now that he was back, she was infinitely more tired than she had been. Instead she nodded and stepped away from him and towards the couch. “Could you wake me up before the sun rises?”

He frowned but nodded. 

Ji-lon crawled onto the couch and threw the flimsy blanket the hospital had provided over her shoulders. Her eyelashes tickled her cheeks as her eyes fought to close. It had become an instinct to not let them. She stared at the cushion of the barren couch and thought about how many nights she’d slept on the pullout couch that doubled as Na-yeon’s bed in the small studio apartment Gyeong-seok and she lived in. How many packed lunches she had made. How many times she held Na-yeon’s hand while walking across the street.

She fell asleep dreaming about watching a cartoon with them. Or maybe her dream was the cartoon. She was asleep, so she couldn’t tell. Dreams had strange logic, after all.

-

“...not covered by insurance, at this point.”

“Doctor, I’ll get the money somehow. Please help Na-yeon.”

A young woman emerged from where she had been standing in a shadow. Not necessarily hidden, per say, but the ambient lighting of the hospital did not match her footsteps. She had become accustomed to blending in. Although she may have seemed like an ordinary college student with a cap and jean jacket, she in fact knew just how to dress to be inconspicuous. But that was not a skill that was needed for her anymore.

Her eyes rested on the room number before her. 4104. She peered through the glass rectangle of the door to see a little girl lying in bed - the same little girl she had encountered prior. She had wandered into the mascot’s room after their shift had completed in hopes of giving the bunny mascot a kind-hearted drawing. 

But where the girl’s bright, innocent smile used to be was now hidden by a ventilation mask. She was hooked up to a variety of machines that kept track of her heart and breathing. She looked almost like a porcelain doll. Her hospital gown was too big on her - as if nobody had wanted to create such an outfit for such an undeserving patient. She was tucked in neatly to the white blankets of the bed, guardrails up to prevent her from turning over and falling.

What took the young woman by surprise though was someone lying on the couch beside the bed. The person’s hair had fallen in front of their face - and she recognized it as another woman. It was strange. The woman on the couch looked not many years older than she herself was. Was it the girl’s mother?

Careful not to wake either of them, the young woman reached out very slowly, debatingly, and took the child’s finger gently between her own. She was cold - much too cold. Her eyes softened, reminded of a time when such a touch was common. 

The woman on the couch shifted, murmuring in her sleep. She could not have been comfortable. She looked to have been in the midst of a nightmare. Or that also may have just been the symptom of being in such a desolate, hopeless environment. 

The young woman pulled the hand away and sniffed. She reached into her bag and took the forgotten strawberry hat that the child had dropped in the chaos of her collapse. She touched the individual stitches of the crocheted item. Such love and care was put into this simple item. 

She placed the hat gently atop the child’s body and stepped back. Just then she made a vow. A promise. A lot of promises were made in hospitals. Promises to get better. Promises to let go. Promises to be okay. But this was a different sort of promise. One that erased any sort of humanity that those other promises might’ve held.

She was gone when Gyeong-seok entered the room to find the strawberry hat. He stiffened for a moment. How had it gotten there so suddenly? Then his eyes went over to Ji-lon sleeping on the couch. She must’ve found it somewhere and placed it there for Na-yeon to see when she would wake. He took the item and carefully lifted Na-yeon’s arm so she could feel that it was there. Then he looked out the window. He could’ve sworn he had seen something shimmer, almost like fire, away in the parking lot.

-

“I talked to the doctors.”

Ji-lon stretched her neck by holding a hand on her shoulder and tilting her head in the opposite direction. Na-yeon was still sound asleep in the bed, but Gyeong-seok had informed her that she had woken up briefly. Her eyes flickered open, trying to capture the moment before it all went wrong. She had a tendency to do that. 

“A new medication just came out,” he said tiredly, not quite sitting but rather leaning on Na-yeon’s hospital bed.. “It’s not not covered by insurance.”

Ji-lon grimanced. “I wish you would have woken me up.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “But you needed the rest.” He bit the inside of his mouth. “I’ll  get the money. I just—” He sucked in a breath. “I’ll find a way. There must be a way.”

She dropped her hand.“Please,” she said softly, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Don’t take this on by yourself. Please, Gyeong-seok…” We’ve been through this, she wanted to say. Don’t hold onto the same beliefs. Ji-lon reached forward and took his hand. 

He contemplated and squeezed her hand back. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… hard.” It was hard to drop the act of being so able. Of being the strong one. Of being the single father with the wife who died in childbirth. “I don’t… I can’t…” Gyeong-seok reached up to his chest and balled his shirt into a fist. “It just hurts. Oh, God. It hurts.”

Ji-lon stood quickly, wrapping one arm over his shoulder and resting the other on his back. She thumbed the baby hairs on the back of his neck.

Gyeong-seok took a shuddering breath. He let go of his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her infinitely closer to him. He cried, then. A real cry. He wasn’t even sure Na-yeon wouldn’t wake up from it, but Ji-lon held him all the same through his shaking. It felt like he was breaking. Like glass splinting and breaking apart. Only she was keeping him in place, not allowing him to fall into the floor.

Her lips found the top of his head in a silent reassurance. He nodded against her, trying to show he was thankful. But she knew. She already knew.

“We’re going to figure this out,” she vowed. Ji-lon pulled away so she was looking at him right in his brown eyes. “We’re going to figure this out together.” 

We’re a unit, she once said. It had been the day after that fight that constantly replayed in her mind - the one she still felt the reeling effects of. If you think family is just blood, then that’s okay. But I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. If you don’t consider me a part of your family… Then consider me a part of your unit.

-

Ji-lon stared at the stuffed bunny from outside the gift shop. It was perched in the window, surrounded by numerous other pink items attuned for both genders, separated by pink and blue. Ji-lon imagined how many grandparents or aunts may have been scrabbling for a gift for a newborn child after only finding out the gender. 

Still, she couldn't bring herself to step inside. Instead she just stared at that little bunny, imagining Na-yeon’s careful little hands wrapping around it weakly. It brought tears to her eyes. 

“Searching for a gift for a loved one?”

She hadn’t realized someone was beside her. It was a businessman dressed in a tuxedo suit. He held a briefcase at his side. His smile was elegant, coy, and professional. Like he was about to pitch her something.

“Oh,” she said, caught off guard of seeing such a man. “Yes.”

“The bunny?”

She raised an eyebrow instead of responding.

“The bunny is the star of the show. Would you really have been looking at anything else?”

What a cryptic man, Ji-lon thought to herself. “I was looking at the bunny,” she said. “However, it’s more than I thought it would be…” She had one hand in her jacket pocket, fumbling with the paper won crumpled up in there. She already knew it would not be enough.

“Money problems?” The man asked. He looked both curious and… maybe shocked? She didn’t really understand why. Maybe it had been her clothes? She made it a habit to dress very well, even though money was tight. It had not always been that way.

Part of her wanted to argue with him. It was such a personal question. But he was so well put-together. He had this odd sort of charisma about him, too. She bit her cheek.

“My daughter is in the hospital,” she answered. Ji-lon froze. She was shocked at how easily the word had come out. “I wanted to get her something. But now… all I can think about is how the money I may spend on this should end up contributing to her medicine.”

“She’s very sick?”

“Yes,” her eyes darkened. “It’s gotten to a point of no return.”

“And the medicine is expensive.”

“Also yes.”

Ji-lon and the businessman stood in silent contemplation for a moment. Both of them just stared at the bunny wordlessly. It was an odd sort of companionship. 

He seemed to think to himself for a moment. He stared at her while he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a very small envelope. He held the small brown envelope out. There were three shapes on the cardboard paper it used - a circle, a triangle, and a square. He beckoned her to take it. He watched her carefully. Wiggling the envelope as if it were a toy taunting a cat.

So this was a marketing ploy. Still, she took it out of curiosity and flipped it over. There was nothing on the back. “What is this?”

“Have you ever played the lottery?”

“Once,” she said skeptically. Her eyebrows furrowed.  It was strange for him to offer her this, and more so that it seemed that he was doing her a favor. Nothing in this life came for free - and certainly not on a street right outside of a hospital.

“No,” he stated, voice suddenly serious. “It’s just a chance.”

She looked down at the envelope and took her bottom lip between her teeth. Her gut tingled - but she wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. It really did feel like a chance - for better or worse. 

Just as she was about to give it back - or perhaps throw it at his feet - he was already walking away. Ji-lon’s feet were planted in place. She held onto the envelope like a lifeline. Her fingers itched, so she opened it. Inside was a business card - at least, what it looked like. On the back was a phone number in black text, stark against the background. 

She shook her head. She'd throw it away as soon as she found a trashcan.

-

That night she went to her own apartment to shower. Ji-lon wished she stayed, and kept thinking about turning around while she was driving, but in the end she stepped through the threshold of her front door. She kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto her couch. She really should’ve gotten rid of this place a long time ago since she was practically living over with Gyeong-seok. But it was her first taste of independence. And rent wasn’t too bad, either. 

The living room was dark but moonlight came in through the windows. She fished out the card from before and frowned, examining it once more. She should've just thrown it away. But then she recalled the look in that man’s eye. How serious he had gotten. 

With her phone in her hand, she dialed the numbers written on the card. The phone line rang for long enough where she considered hanging up, but as soon as it was answered, she went silent. 

“Please state your name and date of birth.”

Ji-lon blinked at the monotone voice. What was this?

She pictured Na-yeon’s small body in the hospital bed. It’s just a chance, the man had said.

“... April 16th, 1998. Yoon Ji-Lon.”

The voice on the other end was quiet. Cars drove by on the street below her apartment building. Rain pattered against the window.

Then.

“Information confirmed.”

“What is this?” She said as soon as they were finished speaking. “I received this card from a man… He said it was a chance. What does that mean?”

The monotone voice did not flinch. “If you received the card, it means you are in debt or in great need of money. We are offering you a way to earn that money.”

If she had any sense, she would’ve hung right up. This was suspicious, insanely so. But the letters and words of the invoice echoed around in her head, taunting her with the amount. She sat up. Her dark living room now seemed unsettling. “How so?”

“You will be participating in a selection of games. If you make it to the end, you receive a grand prize. One that will fix your problems.”

She was quiet.

“The pickup location is Noeul Campground and will occur on October 31st, 2024. Please confirm your placement.”

Well, if it doesn’t go well… I can always leave, she thought to herself. That’s what she would do. She was still very curious, but if what the man was saying was possible? If she could save Na-yeon’s life? It didn’t matter if this was someone calling for hard manual labor. She would do it. She would do it a million times over if it meant saving Na-yeon.

Gyeong-seok was probably not sleeping very well in the hospital. She would have to get back as soon as possible in the morning.

She took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

[hernymills]

hii, sorry to bother you, i can't seem to get out of deep space discounts?

yeah i tried that way, led me back into microwaves. i tried the store maps too, kept ending up in quantum computing. no, the directions an employee gave me were... *shudder*

listen, i'm definitely trapped. so i thought of a plan, right? if people end up here as employees by committing a crime, and they have a finite sentence, there's gotta be a way to let em go when they're done right?

no, see, yeah i know you can just leave through the front door. do you remember asking me to grab something out of your reach last week? yeah i've been here this whole time. i'm still here. it must be... different for me?

anyway so i tried to shoplift, but it turns out the employees have to like, care to say anything about merchandise going into a pocket. or maybe it doesn't count as shoplifting until you try to leave the store with it?

i tried being obvious, believe me. i don't think anyone is working loss prevention in here. but okay so, next plan, that's where you come in. can you like, report me?

i don't care "for what," just like... do your best karen impression? please? maybe there will be some kind of manager that can have me trespassed from the store if other customers complain. please?

ugh, fine. sorry, that's unfair, just... let me know if you change your mind. i'll be around.

hey, hi, can i talk to you for a sec? hello? hi uh, mind um stopping touching that orb for a sec? just need to ask a little favor... hello? hi! okay so i... no please don't touch the– ...hi, yes, hello...

[leashybebes]

I was tagged by @typicalopposite (impulsive) and @hyperfocusthusly (fire) for this wip game.

Rules! Share one sentence or excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Decided to make it confusing by pulling from my extremely unwieldy file with allll the wips from you plus me verse, along with the actual ongoing wips and a Super Secret project so...don't expect anything coherent, I guess!

also, at least one bit is nsfw, i sorta lost track. impulsive is a long word and i have NOTHING in the tank today.

re: nothing in the tank, i cannot even consider tagging onwards. if you see this and wanna do it, your word is heart

impulsive

i -

"I mean. I think you could make just about anything sound hot."

"Do you see how that could be a problem?"

"I - guess. But um. It's a problem in a hot way."

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose. "Evan."

"I mean it. Um. Hold up." Buck scrolls through his phone, switching back to his notes app and, yikes, that's a mess that he will need to tidy up at some point, but he thinks he worded it pretty well in his little brain-dump earlier, so carefully filed sex notes will have to wait.

m -

"My round," Tommy says.

"I'll come with you," Eddie offers.

Buck stands up to let them out of the booth. Clearly not even thinking about it, Tommy touches his waist as he goes, a brief trail of his fingers that has Buck making what he's sure is a pretty goofy expression at Tommy's retreating back.

p -

"Put some clothes on, have a shower if you want, I'm going to make some lunch."

"Is this the famous Clipboard Buck?"

Buck's aware he's probably having what Hen would call a face journey because he wants to know who said that to Tommy, and to point out that he doesn't actually have a clipboard right now, but that he has one at the loft and he could grab it if they swung by, and he also wants to say something embarrassing about how handsome Tommy looks after a nap. He might be in danger of going full Buck here.

u -

"Uh. No. But. You know my friends."

"And soon you'll know mine." He brings Buck's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. "I've told them about you. They'll love you."

"Um. Um. Sure." 

Buck screams at himself to shut the fuck up because they'll love you is literally just a thing people say, and it is too goddamn early.

l -

"Love you."

"Love you too."

"Love you!" Jee chirps up, not really directed at anyone in particular, just putting it out into the universe. Buck swoops her up onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and she shrieks with laughter. When he leans in to drop one last peck on Tommy's cheek, he hears Jee's mwah! as she lands a kiss in Tommy's hair.

s -

"She was a kid when I joined the army. I should have done better by her, but - "

"You were a kid when you joined the army," Buck counters. "I'm not mad, stop looking at me like that."

"Okay," Tommy says carefully. "You probably - "

"I mean, I am confused. Because when your dad died, we talked a lot. I thought - I thought it made us closer."

i -

"I don't wanna - "

"Sure, okay, make me say it," Tommy says with a huff that might almost be a laugh. "You've got a big dick. Just - it's good, just go slow."

"Yeah," Evan says. "Sure, of course."

He thought he was going slow, but Tommy's the boss, so he works on tiny, incremental little thrusts instead, and it feels crazy. He can feel Tommy's ass working around his cock, like it's actively trying to get him closer, further inside.

v -

Verging on tearful, Evan says, "I would have come. I would have helped."

"I know you would have. It's exactly why I didn't. Why I wouldn't let Sal."

"God, you are a stubborn asshole," Evan says, but he sounds almost impressed, now.

Tommy shrugs and snags another cookie. "These are really good."

Evan gives him a familiar, teasing glare. "For the record, I am allowing you to change the subject."

e -

"Evan, wait - "

But it's too late. Buck pulls open what appears to be Tommy's sock drawer. He's rooting around before Tommy's words can register and his fingers find it like they knew it'd be there - a box. Small and square and navy blue and unmistakable. 

"You - "

Tommy sighs and drags a hand over his face. "Surprise?" he suggests. "This really isn't how I thought this would go."

fire

f -

For a second it's their first kiss all over again, but then Tommy's free hand is preemptively cupping the back of Buck's head as he very efficiently gets Buck pinned against the wall and kisses him fervently. Buck makes a noise of surprise but then gets with the programme immediately. Tommy kisses him hard, urgent, licking into his mouth and slotting their bodies together in a way that Buck is already learning makes him melt. He winds his arms around Tommy's neck, arches into him, lets out a happy little hum.

i -

"It's up to you. I won't be offended if you just want to go sleep in your own bed, but I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't serious."

He's so fucking direct, and it makes Buck feel crazy.

"I don't want to sleep in my own bed," he says, and wants to curl into himself and disappear. It's too much and too honest and too intense and too early and too Buck. 

r -

Reflexively, he notes Evan very deliberately not looking at the cane, probably trying to reconcile the man who walked out of his loft eight years ago with it, and with the glasses, and the decrease in muscle mass and the more grey than not in his hair. He decides to give him an out.

"Congratulations on the promotion," he says. "You deserve it."

e -

Evan holds out  an honest-to-god printed list. Lists, Tommy realizes as he takes hold of the paper, and sees that it's multiple sheets. The first is titled non-sexual intimacy, the second date night ideas, the third mutual self-disclosure. Evan's hand covers his, settling the rising itch of panic he's barely had time to notice.

"Slow down," Evan tells him. "Your pace, remember?"

Part of Tommy hates the feeling of being handled. Another part of him, the part he's trying to lean into, wants it desperately. Wants to be treated carefully, treated with care.

[shiroi---kumo]

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── The door to his office is creaking open with someone unannounced. He doesn't remember calling for anyone and he also doesn't remember having any other meetings today. His eyes are filled to the brim with red and blue, and it takes everything within him not to roll them at the sight.

"Aurinko, Taivas, what gives me the pleasure of you two fine gentleman today? I don't recall us having a meeting until tomorrow. Surely whatever it is could have waited until then?"

The Solar King glowers at the man of silver as one hand comes to slam down on his desk hard. He leans over to fix molten gold with been navy all while his prime stands just behind him.

"No it cannot wait Sumu. Not when it is in regards to my son. Also you will address my binds correctly. That is Kenraali Taivas to you, we've had this discussion a thousand times."

And he can feel his mood sour by the second as Aurinko yells. Fine, whatever, let the child get it all out of his system before he changes his mind.

"Heavens, Aurinko sit down. Let's discuss. I'm sure this about The Child of White - "

"Pilvi."

" - Not Prince Usva. Is that correct?" He sighs as he lets his lips part ever so slightly while the eldest man leans back in his chair and laces his hands together on his desk.

"My son has a name, Sumu."

"I heard you. Anyways, about the child - what has that fire in your belly so stirred up, Poikani?"

"Sumu I am literally the King now. I'm not a boy anymore."

There is a heavy sigh through parted lips as the King sets down and silver brows upturn at the younger man's statement.

"I know I know, Aurinko. You came about your son. What has you so angry?"

"Sielu says you were scolding my son for playing in the puddles from the storm this morning and that you called him a sacrifice which had him in a fit of tears that made him run away from Revon."

There's another sigh again as the elder shifts in his seat and he frowns before taking a long sip of tea from the cup on his desk.

"Well that is distressing, isn't it? The child really shouldn't be running away from his prime. Tulet needs to keep better track of him."

There is the shifting sound of armor behind that of the Solar King, as a step forward is taken only for a hand to be raised.

"Taivas." Comes the Knight's name firmly. "Sumu, you're not speaking of any of my knights with disrespect, are you? You are aware our military answers to The Crown, not The Church, yes?"

"Of Course, Your Majesty. I know where their allegiance lies but we can all agree that everything we all do is for the good of Misterica can we not? " He's sighing with parted lips again as he takes another long drink of his tea turning back to the King with a smile on his lips.

"Um - yes - of course. It's all for the good of Misterica...."

"My Lord?" The General chimes behind, as he tenses in place again.

"So then - would you like some tea while we discuss?"

"I - sure, I'll take some tea and we can work this whole situation out. I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement."

"Of Course, Your Majesty. I'm sure by the end of this we'll be seeing eye to eye once again."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He doesn't want any melon. He doesn't want to leave where he is. Never again. He's just going to stay balled up in Revon's arms forever. Even when he gets big. Revon won't ever let anything bad happen to him. Never ever and he won't let that mean man come near him either. He doesn't care who he is. Father is the King, so he doesn't have to drop his horns to the Piipsa. He's mean and he doesn't like him.

Maybe Father will sort it out and make him stop being mean to him. He was lying. He had to be lying. There's no way Father and Mother would let anyone make him a sacrifice and he doesn't even know what that means but it sounds bad.

So he's trying to curl in on himself even more, that has the knight only lifting himself from his place in the chair to bring them to sit down in the bean bag on the far side of the room next to Sielu's desk. A throw blanket pulled up and over the boy as the knight sighs.

"I'll lay with you tonight, My Liege and you can curl up and be as small as you like. Does that sound okei?"

"Yeah." Comes the sound of a broken sniffly voice without the boy picking his head up.

They just needed to wait for Aurinko to come back and hopefully by dinner he'd have some news.

Pilvi looks so snug and much more settled than a few moments ago.

Mostly, he's glad Revon is sitting down for a while. He sits across from the both of them, sighing hard to let out all the tension from a moment ago.

"Of course I can," he replies. "I didn't plan on leaving the poor little guy. Not with how he was clinging to me earlier. I'll go ahead and let my family know before they worry."

He's already gotten his phone out to let his mother know, followed by his father, because they worry in that order.

"Does he need anything else? I'll have makea meloni for him by tomorrow. Maybe that'll cheer him up."

[berthindeath]

@lone-blade liked for a starter

Her blade tears through the darkspawn's skull with a sickening squelch; it howls a piercing death rattle before she kicks it as far from her as she can muster. It never ends. Her chest heavens from exertion, eyes surveying just how little ground they've made up as the onslaught batters against the fortress.

Weisshaupt, the pinnacle of a legendary order—and it's crumbling under her feet.

This is a cluster fuck.

Cacophony reigns as horns blare, a perpetual cloud of smoke stinging her eyes, and a relentless sea of darkspawn motivated by their ancient master. This couldn't be going worse, but at least her life remains cleaved to her bones, for now.

As they begin making their way toward the library, they reach a pocket of remaining wardens fending off an incoming overwhelming horde. Unwilling to leave them behind, Gwendolyn diverts her course straight for the wardens. When she's within range, the necromancer slams her staff hard into the ground, sending a pulse of necrotic magic that sends darkspawn sprawling back, buying them precious few seconds to flee. " Come on! There's too many of them, we need to fall back! "

[protect-namine]

I actually have a fic idea but lc is a show that's like. you will never ever have all the information and context until the end. and I am a writer who writes best and more confidently when I have all the info and context at my fingertips. so now I'm just like 🧍‍♂️

anyway. ramble in the tags

[racke7]

My internet has been investigated by a professional.

There might be something weird with the big cables (to quote the guy: the "inner-pair" and "outer-pair" of the eight-cables are of different lengths, but by all accounts still work just fine), but my own equipment has at least passed (no extra-fine for crying wolf for me).

The weird stability-thing continues to be weird. And current test is for them to switch my internet-provider (internet-provider has a use-contract with the cable-operators, who are the ones investigating) over the weekend. See if the problem is on that end.

It's possible that this is the case (at which point I guess I'll try to switch permanently), or that it's that weird cable-length resulting in the problem (which is... a whole different can of worms).

[botanikos]

Perhaps he was earning a reputation beyond the Goetia name. This wasn't, after all, his first time being taken captive for one reason or another. Though it certainly isn't surprising anymore. Conveniently enough, Stolas hadn't been near his phone at the time; not that he needed it. He chides himself for near instantly thinking of reaching out to Blitz. He was always the first thought in his flustered mind when in distress - among other moments as well. Perhaps that alone spoke volumes. All he wanted was to enjoy a nice, luxurious bath surrounded by warm candles and his prized crystals with lavender and jasmine floating on the surface. But no. He hadn't even had time to remove his attire, not even to dip a talon in to test the water!

Stolas had been blindfolded up until recently, and now he peered around the room attempting to analyze his surroundings and gather his bearings. Vibrant red eyes narrow as he struggles against his bindings. Blessed rope. How delightful. Someone did their homework. Nevertheless, surely he wasn't in any real danger...

❝ Honestly if it's money you seek, I have no problem providing it without the use of these nightmarish restraints. I would have also preferred to remain in the comfort of my own palace as opposed to.... This quaint place. ❞

-- for @hazbinned

[hazbintales]

@musehotpot - ♡ starter with charlie.

Charlie looked around the newly made hotel, a smile on her face as she greeted anyone she came across until she saw her father. She stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath in before starting her walk again, moving towards him with her smile still on her features.

“ Afternoon, dad. ” She greeted him as she approached and came to a short stop once she felt she was close enough to him. “ What are you up to? The hotel looks great, thanks for all your help. I don’t think I uh.. thanked you properly… ”