#(?) is also something we do but i feel that one is not as useful as okno and its more of a residual cultural thing

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[madamechrissy]

Let me in your ocean, Swim

The five times Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, and the one that works

PREVIEW- COMING SOON

Pairings- Sukuna x F reader (both like 23/24)

Summary- You have known Sukuna your entire life, and he's infuriated you for most of it. Since you were kids on a playground he was picking on you, and you decided you hate him (love him!?) little do you know, he's been in love with you since the moment you met. There were five times he tried and epically failed to let you know. You all don't see each other for two years after college, when you run into him on Valentine's day at the bar- and you think, what better for getting jilted tonight then a hate fuck from Sukuna!? But... no, in fact he needs to finally tell you the truth.

CW- enemies to lovers (kinda!?) Sukuna is TERRIBLE at feelings, lowkey a bully when you're younger, go through the five times he tried to tell you (intermingles with the current night) romantic, sweet, angsty and NSFW. Smut at the end and throughout a lot of teasing and tension. warnings- rough sex, dirty talk, creampie, oral (m and f recieving) fingering, alcohol, use of recreational drugs etc- oneshot!!

Comment to get on the Taglist! Gonna be a LONG one (Same premise/style as Gojo and Geto 5+1- but it's Sukuna SO lol)

You didn’t expect to be sitting alone at a bar for Valentine’s day, but here you are, dressed to the nines in a beautiful glittery black dress, hair done up, makeup perfect on your skin. You have glittery bangles along your wrist, and red bottom heels, you’re as dressed up as you ever got, but right before your date, your boyfriend decided to break things off with you.

Which leads you to this hole in the wall bar, across the street from the fancy restaurant you’d sat at for an hour waiting on him, only to get broken up via text. Sighing, you order another drink, tensing then when you hear it, the damn voice of the man who you simultaneously couldn’t stand and also had it bad for, for years and years, ever since elementary school.

“Tch, what’re you doing here brat?” You glare up at him, but when you see just how good Sukuna looks, after two years of not seeing him? You falter, lips parted just so as he smirks down at you.

However, his heart is pounding in his chest, despite certainly not showing you outwardly, you take his damn breath away. Sukuna has always found you to be the most beautiful, infuriating little creature in existence. And you’ve just gotten more beautiful, which in itself irritates the shit out of him, it was hard enough acting ‘normal’ around you all his life.

But now?

“What’re you doing here, Kuna?” He snorts, rolling ruby red eyes, leaning against the bar with an elbow propped on it, glaring at you.

“Don’t call me that, god.”

“It irritates you, so I will.” You smile up at him, sipping the rest of your drink, which he eyes disparingly.

“What’s that pink shit?”

“Oh, like your hair?” You counter, raising a brow, his jaw sets. “Ya want one, Kuna?”

“No, I don’t want your little bitch drink.” You roll your eyes now, as he sits next to you, and your eyes sweep over his starch white dress shirt and black slacks, stretching over muscles that seemed to have only gotten more pronounced since college.

“Not even my cherry, hmm?” You tease, pulling the marachino out of your cup, dangling it in front of his face.

“That’s long gone, I’m sure, looking all slutty…” He murmurs, right in your ear, you shove at him, scoffing.

“You’re slutty, Sukuna. Pretty sure you fucked a whole sorority last time we caught up?”

“Mmm, rumors, rumors.” He holds up two fingers now. “Gimme something that’s not a little bitch drink, please.”

“So manly, oh heavens!” You pretend to fan yourself and he can’t stop the laughter, but he soon covers it with a glare.

“Get her some more of this pink crap.” He says, and you are a little surprised then, looking at the handsome man who’s had your heart for so long you can’t remember a time before him.

“You buying me a drink?”

“I am buying you a drink. I… it’s been a long time.” He misses you, but the words are caught in his throat.

“It has been a long time. Thank you.” You smile as the bartender hands you another dirty shirley, and hands Sukuna a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He sips at it, eyes darting over your frame, your sexy body that is so well shown in that dress of yours, all he can think of is unzipping it.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” You blink a bit.

“How’d you know I had one?”

Well, Sukuna’s been insta stalking you but he won’t admit it.

“Heard it from our friends, duh. Just because we don’t see each other doesn’t mean I don’t see them.”

“Yeah well, it’s not like… I didn’t want to see you. We left things…”

“Yeah.” He sighs now, running a hand through pastel locks, a hand with black tattoos and black nails, throwing off this corporate vibe he has, something dark about him, but then, there’s always been. “You single on Valentine’s day?”

“I am, officially. Ass of a boyfriend left me across the street via text. And… are you…”

“Yeah, I also got broken up with, but slapped in the face, and in person. Think they planned the shit?” You giggle, shaking your head and sipping your drink, leaning just a bit closer, leg brushing his wide, strong one. He damn near moans just at feeling your body after so, so long.

“Maybe they did. I’ve wanted to see you, though… I just…”

“There’s something I wanted to… tell you. Actually. I thought about calling you, but…”

“Yeah? Calling me?”

“So surprising?”

“You hate me? So yeah.”

Sukuna sighs now, sipping his drink again, looking down into your beautiful eyes, your beautiful face, remembering just all those times he’d ruined it with you. Fuck, since the first moment he met you, he was a dick, and pushed you away, all because the shit he feels terrifies him. And over the years, he’s tried, but he thought you were too far gone, nothing but a regret, a memory.

Something to compare every girl he’s with, never you, are they? There’s no one like you.

But you’re here of all places, and though Sukuna thinks shit like ‘signs’ are the dumbest thing ever, he can’t let this pass, not this time. He takes a breath and his lips part, his fingers then brush your hair back, something far too gentle for Sukuna, something that makes your eyes dilate, your little gasp so sexy he can’t think.

“You trying to fuck me tonight?” You ask, and he chuckles, the gentle brush now a rough grip in your hair, leaning over you.

You taste the whiskey on his breath, you feel his lips so close, your breaths mingling, as your hand comes to his shirt, balling the fancy material in your little fist. “That what you want, brat? Me to fuck you finally?”

“Maybe I do.” He freezes then, blinking long lashes, leaning even closer, free hand gripping your waist in the crowded bar. “A hate fuck? Sounds like the perfect thing to forget tonight.”

“Hate fuck, huh?”

What you don’t know is, Sukuna is in love with you.

Art in the banner is from WynnChan270 on Deviant art- if you find them on tumblr plz lmk so I can credit here! <3 divider is from div1nepetal

Perma tags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @n1vi @aldebrana @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw

[lemonsdietcoke]

Dark but just a game - player!230

Dark!Thanos/su bong x fem!reader

Warnings: dv(physical abuse),NONCON/dubcon,toxic/abusive relationship, drug abuse and use,mention of drugs, sick family member, thanos is readers ex, death, murder, gunshots, normally squid game stuff, also thanos is insane

Summary: Desperate to save your sick brother, you join a mysterious competition for a life-changing prize, only to discover it’s a brutal death game that your toxic ex also joined.

MINORS DNI!

A/n: Hey guys I haven’t written in a while but something about this man just inspired me lol but please give feedback and Imk if you guys like it!! (Also this is a new account so we starting from the bottom lol)

Don’t move. (chapter I)

The world feels like a hangover. A dry mouth, a pounding skull, and too much light bleeding through your eyelids. You wake up slowly, your body stiff and heavy, the taste of copper clinging to your tongue.

For a moment, you think you’re still at the hospital. That you must’ve fallen asleep in one of those unforgiving plastic chairs next to your brother’s bed.

But the voices pull you out of that lie.

Too many voices, sharp and overlapping, rising in confusion and panic. You open your eyes slowly, squinting against the too-bright light, and the world tilts.

You’re not at the hospital.

Rows of steel bunks stretch out endlessly around you, packed with people wearing identical green tracksuits. The walls are stark white, impossibly clean, and somewhere above you, a voice over the intercom drones something you’re too dazed to catch.

Your mouth is dry. Your head throbs. You sit up slowly, clutching the edge of the bunk, and glance down at the number stitched onto your jacket: 154

Panic claws at your chest. The memories flood back—

the card, the masked recruiter, his promise of billions of won. You’d taken the gamble, knowing it was reckless. Desperation had been louder than reason.

All for your brother.

“Player 154.”

The voice startles you, sharp and robotic. A guard in a black mask stands at the foot of your bunk, staring down at you with eerie stillness.

“This is your assigned bed. Remain in the dormitory until further instructions.”

You barely nod, your heart racing. The guard moves on, leaving you to sit there in your growing unease. All around, other players are murmuring, asking questions you’re too afraid to say aloud.

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name cuts through the noise, sharp and unmistakable.

Your body stiffens.

You don’t want to turn around. You don’t want to know if it’s really him.

But you do.

And there he is.

Thanos.

His hair is purple—loud and obnoxious, like a warning sign you can’t ignore. He’s taller than you remember, leaner too, but he still moves the same way. That lazy, confident stride that makes it look like he’s walking through a world that belongs to him.

Your stomach twists.

“Shit,” he says, stopping a few feet from you, hands in his pockets. His smirk is lazy, familiar. Too familiar. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. The cross necklace around his neck glints under the lights as he moves, catching your attention. You know what’s inside.

“What are you doing here?” he shoots back, his smirk widening.

The question lingers between you, loaded with meaning. You both know it’s been months. Months of silence. Months since everything fell apart.

You shake your head, trying to steady your voice. “I asked first.”

Thanos hums thoughtfully, tapping the side of his jaw like he’s considering how to answer.

“Same reason as everyone else, I guess.” His gaze sweeps the room, lingering on the players milling around in their green tracksuits. “Money.”

Your chest tightens.

“And you?” he asks, his voice softer now. There’s something in his tone—something almost curious, like he’s genuinely surprised to see you here.

You don’t answer.

Instead, you glare at him, your pulse pounding in your ears. He’s the last person you wanted to see here. The last person you wanted to see ever.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

But Thanos hears. His smirk falters for a split second, replaced by something sharper. Something darker.

Then he laughs—that same laugh. The one that used to make your heart race.

Now it just makes your skin crawl.

“Relax, baby.” His voice drops lower, more intimate. Too intimate. “Not everything’s about you.”

You flinch at the nickname.

He notices. Of course he notices.

His grin softens, almost playful. “Damn,” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on you a moment too long. “I forgot how cute you get when you’re pissed off.”

Your jaw clenches. “Fuck off, su bong.”

“Ouch.” He presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me.”

You shake your head, turning away. You’re done. You won’t do this.

But his voice follows you, playful and biting.

“Come on, Y/N. We’re stuck here together. Might as well catch up.”

You don’t stop walking.

You don’t look back.

And even as the cheerful voice crackles over the intercom—“Welcome, players! The first game will begin shortly.”—you can still feel his gaze on you, heavy and unrelenting.

~~~~~~~~~~

The room is pink.

It’s not the soft, comforting pink of a nursery or a flower petal. It’s too bright, too artificial, like something out of a twisted candy store. The color bounces off the walls, saturating the air with a strange, suffocating cheerfulness that feels completely out of place.

The players shuffle inside, eyes darting around the room, murmuring quietly to each other. The atmosphere is light—no one knows what’s coming yet.

You move with the crowd, your footsteps echoing off the floor. The pink walls are lined with screen-like cameras, each one displaying the reflection of the player in front of it.

“Holy shit.”

The voice cuts through the room, sharp and excited. You turn toward the commotion, your heart sinking.

“Is that Thanos?”

It’s easy to spot him in the crowd. He strides through the room like he owns it, his purple hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights. His cross necklace swings lazily with each step, catching the light, and his expression is the same as always—smug, self-assured, like the world is exactly where he wants it to be.

A murmur spreads through the crowd as people recognize him.

“No way.”

“That’s really him?”

He grins, clearly enjoying the attention. Players gather around him, some whispering excitedly, others not even recognizing him or noticing the commotion.

“Yo, Thanos!” someone calls out. “Can we get a picture with you?”

Thanos raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Like a group photo?”

“Yeah! Come on, let’s do it!”

The group presses closer, jostling for space around him. Players laugh, throwing their arms around each other’s shoulders, posing like it’s some casual get-together instead of a game with unknown rules.

You stand at a distance, watching with quiet irritation.

Of course he’s loving this. He always loved being the center of attention. Even now, when everything feels wrong, he’s soaking it all in—the admiration, the laughter, the fleeting sense of normalcy.

Then his gaze finds you.

His grin shifts, turning sharper, more playful. He raises a hand, beckoning you over before pointing at you.

Your stomach twists.

“You coming?” His voice is loud, teasing, drawing attention your way. “Come on y/n, we’ve got room for one more.”

The players glance between you and him, their curiosity piqued. Whispers ripple through the crowd.

“You guys know each other?”

You clench your fists, forcing yourself to breathe. He’s doing this on purpose. He always knew how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin.

“Go fuck yourself, Thanos,” you snap, your voice cutting through the chatter.

He laughs, tipping his head back. That laugh.

“Ouch,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Come on, baby. For old times’ sake?”

You glare at him. “I’m not your baby.”

Before he can reply, a guard speaks up. His voice is sharp, commanding.

“You are not allowed to do this.”

The players freeze, the cheerful atmosphere evaporating in an instant. The guard’s presence—silent and menacing—makes the room feel colder despite the garish pink walls.

“You want to get in the picture? Come on.” Thanos smirks cockily gesturing his head towards the screen.

“You must take your photos one by one” the guard explains leaving no room for argument.

As the player others player groan and argue with the guard you take the opportunity to focus on your own picture.

The camera flickers to life, showing your reflection in stark detail. Your face lacked its normal vibrance under the bright lights, your eyes tired, your hair falling messily around your face.

“Look at the camera! Smile :)”, the screen tells you in a cheerful voice.

You hesitate for a moment before letting a soft smile tug at your lips. Not too happy. Not too sad. Just enough to say: I’m here.

The flash goes off.

And just like that, it’s over.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sky stretches endlessly overhead, the kind of bright blue, cloudless sky that belongs in childhood memories—not here, not now. The sun is warm against your skin, the breeze gentle, carrying the scent of grass and dirt. It feels too perfect. Too normal.

The players around you chat quietly, their voices light with curiosity.

“What’s with the doll?”

“Think we’ll win points for style?”

“This is going to be so easy.”

You take a deep breath, trying to shake the unease clinging to your chest. You tell yourself it’s just nerves—everyone’s nervous, right? But the way the doll looms in the distance, her painted eyes wide and unblinking, makes your stomach twist.

A robotic yet cheerful female voice echos throughout the game room.

“The rules are simple,” she chirps,“When the doll says ‘green light,’ you may move. When it says ‘red light,’ you must stop. Any player who moves during ‘red light’ will be eliminated.”

The word hangs heavy in the air.

Eliminated.

Someone snickers behind you. “They really went all out with the theatrics, huh?”

You glance over your shoulder and catch a familiar figure standing a few rows ahead.

Thanos.

He’s got his hands in his pockets, his head tilted back like he’s enjoying the sun. His purple hair stands out against the sea of green tracksuits, messy and unapologetic.

A woman near him whispers something, giggling as she points at the doll. Thanos glances at her, his lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Green light!”

The voice is sweet, sing-song, and the crowd surges forward like kids on a playground. You take a step, then another. The grass is soft beneath your feet, the sun warming the back of your neck.

This is fine. It’s just a game.

“Red light!”

You stop, your body going still. The doll’s head swivels slowly, her mechanical eyes scanning the crowd.

It’s quiet for a moment. Then—

CRACK.

The sound makes you flinch.

A man near the front falls to the ground.

At first, you think he tripped. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. He’s lying face-down in the dirt, his limbs twisted awkwardly.

Then you see the blood pooling beneath his head.

“What the hell?” someone mutters.

Another crack. Another body drops.

The crowd goes still.

You feel it—the shift in the air. The unease turning to panic.

Then, someone screams.

Chaos erupts.

Players break into a sprint, shoving each other out of the way, their shoes pounding against the dirt. The gunfire comes immediately—sharp, relentless, merciless. Bodies fall mid-stride, hitting the ground with sickening thuds. Blood sprays the grass, staining the dirt a dark, muddy red.

The smell hits you—iron and earth and something metallic.

“Stop moving!”

The voice comes from near the front—Player 456. His jacket is streaked with dirt, his eyes wide with panic.

“If you run, you’ll die! Don’t run! Follow my lead!”

The words barely register over the sound of gunfire. You stand frozen, your chest heaving. You can’t breathe. You can’t think.

Then, movement catches your eye.

Thanos.

Rushing through the crowd like he’s having the time up his life. Running, skipping even jumping in the air like a little kid.

“Red light!”

Then, without warning, he shoves a man in front of him.

The man stumbles, colliding with two others. They fall like dominoes, their limbs flailing as they hit the ground.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

Blood splatters across the grass, dark and sticky.

You stare, horrified, as a spray of crimson streaks across Thanos’ face and tracksuit. It drips from his chin, smearing across his cheek.

He doesn’t wipe it away.

He doesn’t flinch.

And then—he smiles.

It’s a genuine, crooked smile. Like he’s done something clever. Like he’s proud of himself.

“Green light!”

Your stomach churns. You force yourself to move, bile rising in your throat. One step. Then another.

You keep your eyes on the finish line, trying not to look at the bodies sprawled across the field. You can’t look.

“Red light!”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

The doll’s head swivels again, her lifeless eyes scanning the field. The silence stretches painfully thin.

Then—

“Green light!”

You lurch forward, your legs trembling with exhaustion. The finish line is so close now.

When you cross it, your knees give out, and you collapse onto the grass, gasping for air.

Your hands are stained red. You don’t even know whose blood it is.

Footsteps approach.

Slow. Casual.

Thanos.

He walks past you, his hands tucked into his pockets. The blood on his tracksuit is drying, darkening to a deep rust. A streak of it smears across his cheek, standing out starkly against his pale skin.

He doesn’t look at the bodies. He doesn’t look at the blood.

But as he passes you, he glances down.

His smirk is sharp enough to cut.

“Guess I’m not the only one with good instincts,” he says, his voice light, mocking.

You don’t respond.

Because all you can think about is the bodies still lying on the field.

And the way he smiled through the blood.

[usercelestial]

Forever Love

General Audiences | Words: 3,753 | TW: Sexual Harassment

-

Buck misses Tommy. He always misses Tommy. He misses him when he’s in the bathroom, when he’s at work, when he’s sat across the table and their feet aren’t touching. Buck is self-aware enough to know that he has a problem. But this time, it’s serious.

He’s drunk. And Tommy isn’t here.

And they’re fighting.

He’s just a little past tipsy in a gay bar where the music is too loud and the floor is too sticky but the rainbow flags in the window give him this fuzzy feeling in his chest. It’s nice, knowing he has a community, having a sense of belonging. Having something he didn’t know he was missing, being with people who are like him. It’s queerness and tacky rainbow tank tops and seeing color for the first time and breathing in and out without the weight of something missing sitting on his chest.

“Dude, this place is great!”

Oh, Eddie’s here too.

They started the night at Eddie’s house. Buck ran to Eddie the minute he slammed the front door of his and Tommy’s new house and jumped in his Jeep.

He doesn’t remember what the fight was about, not just because the alcohol was kind of making it hard to remember details, but because it was really about nothing in particular. Or maybe it was about everything. All the little things like Tommy leaving his shoes in the doorway and Buck forgetting to load the dishwasher. One bad shift, a few small jabs, and then suddenly they were screaming at each other. And then Buck ran.

They had moved in together three weeks ago. The first two weeks were bliss, but now a heavy storm cloud has settled over their home. Buck thinks about the honeymoon phase everyone was warning him about and he aches to go back to it. He remembers when he used to think Tommy had never done anything wrong and if he had, there were perfectly reasonable explanations for it. But now he’s seeing him in more varied colors than just rose-tinted ones. And he’s realizing Tommy is having the same revelation. They're more themselves, more adult, messier and complicated. And Buck’s terrified.

But he’s also pissed.

“Can you fucking believe he yelled at me for something so petty?” Buck had said, pacing around Eddie’s living room, “It’s like he wasn’t even listening to me.”

“Well, didn’t you also yell at him?”

“Who’s side are you on?”

A small, petty part of him was smug about getting to Eddie before Tommy did. The last few fights they had, Tommy had been the one to storm out and seek solace in the Diaz home. This time, Buck ran before Tommy had the chance. He had been happy to share his side of the story and Eddie was a kind enough friend to realize Buck needed to vent his very biased account of things, nodding along and giving support where it was needed.

Then came the beers. Then the bars. Then Buck spotted those rainbow flags in the window while stumbling along the sidewalk and told Eddie that if he was a good ally, he would follow him in and let him blow off some steam.

Except now, he’s kind of running out of steam. He misses his boyfriend and the guilt of raising his voice is starting to dampen his mood. He feels regret souring on his tongue and it’s diluting all the endorphins that were released from doing shots with Drag Queens earlier in the night.

Eddie’s still going strong though. His hair is kind of messy, glitter decorating his pink cheeks, a goofy smile plastered across his face. He lost the button up he started the night with so now he’s rocking a white tank top that shows off his arms nicely. Needless to say he’s getting a lot of attention- attention that he’s either ignoring or oblivious to.

“Dude, dude, why don’t we come here more often? Why do we go to the sad bar for straight people when we could come here instead? Everyone’s so nice!” Eddie is starting to shout in his ear a little bit.

“You can just come here on your own, you know,” Buck suggests.

Eddie shakes his head, “I don’t wanna… um-” he cuts off, snapping his fingers, “intrude! I don’t wanna intrude. Do you think if I ask Josh, he’d take me? He talks about feeling weird coming to bars alone all the time! OH!” Eddie gasps, like he’s had a great idea, “Should I text Josh? He could come down here, it’d be great!”

Eddie starts to take his phone out before Buck stops him, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Eds.”

Eddie waves him off before the song changes and suddenly he’s disappearing back into the crowd of swaying bodies. Buck should probably try to keep an eye on him but he’s busy silently mourning the quiet night in with his boyfriend he was going to have. Then he starts to mourn the night he wanted to spend distracting himself from his own grievances with said boyfriend, trying to drown out the voice telling him how badly he fucked things up. Now, he’s playing babysitter to giddy-drunk Eddie.

“Don’t you look lonely.” Suddenly there’s a body pushing against his side and alcohol-ridden breath wafting over his ear.

He reels back, cringing at the close proximity. He huffs and takes another sip of his beer.

“Oh, what, you’re gonna give me the cold shoulder?” The guy moves closer again. “Come on, what’s got you so down?”

He ignores him again, trying to turn his body away. The guy slides a hand against his side and fingers the hem of his shirt. Buck shoves him off.

“Fuck off,” Buck growls, and then for good measure, “I’ve got a boyfriend.” Who he misses. God, he wishes Tommy was here.

“Well, I don’t see him anywhere. Must not be a very good boyfriend, then.”

Buck starts to get defensive, opening his mouth to speak, before the words jumble in his throat. It’s a little hard to think coherently, but what comes to mind are images of Tommy making him dinner after a long shift, scrubbing his hands through his soapy hair in the shower, kissing his birthmark before bed every night. He’s not sure how to articulate it, all the feelings rising in his throat at the claim that Tommy isn’t a good boyfriend, a good partner, a good person.

“Buck! Buck, listen, man, you gotta try this drink- oh, who’s this?”

The guy scoffs as Eddie suddenly reappears from God knows where, “Really? This guy?” He points at Eddie.

Eddie looks behind him wildly, “Who?”

Buck thinks briefly about drowning himself in one of the bar toilets. Then decides he’d be getting out of this too easy, and this is probably karma for ruining the great thing he had going with Tommy.

“So you’re his boyfriend?” The guy is now directly talking to Eddie.

There are several looks that pass over Eddie’s face. He looks like he’s solving a puzzle for a second then there’s a little twinkle in his eye and then he straightens his back with determination and pride, “Yep!”

Buck chokes on his own spit, “What?”

“Hey, I’m Tommy, Buck- no, Evan’s boyfriend.” He looks immensely proud of himself, “So, bye. He’s taken. By me, Tommy, I’m a great pilot and subpar at Muay Thai. So leave us alone.”

The guy apparently has decided to double down on being an ass, though, “Really, you could do so much better.” He’s turned back to Buck now. “Why would you ever choose to be with a guy who can’t hold his beer and makes an idiot of himself in public?”

“He’s not an idiot!” Buck throws his hands in the air. He’s not sure if he’s defending Tommy or Eddie here, but they’re kind of blurring into one person right now.

“What do you have going for you anyways, bro? I’m a pilot!” Eddie decides to puff his chest out a little now, shoving his hands in his front pockets. Buck realizes he’s trying to mimic Tommy’s mannerisms, much to his own horror. Now is probably not a good time to mention that this guy doesn’t actually know what Tommy looks like, therefore he doesn’t actually need to pretend to be Tommy. But his heart clenches at how hard Eddie’s trying anyways. “A firefighter-pilot!” Eddie continues, “Those are like two of the hottest professions you can have. I also do Muay Thai, although not as good as my amazing friend, Eddie, but still very good.”

“Wow, self-obsessed much?” The guy tries to touch Buck’s arm, “Come on, don’t you wanna ditch him? Do you really think this guy is gonna give you what you need?”

“What do you know about what he needs? I’ll have you know that we live together, actually!” Eddie is starting to shout again, “It’s going great. Or well, it is, isn’t it?” He turns to Buck.

“What?”

“It is going great, right? Like we’re still happy, aren’t we?”

Buck thinks of Tommy at home right now, sitting on the sofa in his stupid, sexy reading glasses. He’s probably still fuming from the fight. Buck pictures him biting his nails, a habit he’s tried to kick. He whines a little in the back of his throat at the thought of being his point of stress. His bones ache to curl up in bed, head tucked into Tommy’s shoulder, feeling Tommy’s arm gently graze over his spine. He thinks about moving around the kitchen with him, seamlessly in tune with his every move. He thinks about coming up behind him and pulling Tommy back’s flush against his chest and kissing his hairline.

“Yeah, of course, we’re still happy.”

“Do you really have to ask?” The guy asks smugly, quirking an eyebrow.

Eddie’s still looking at him though, eyes searching, “I worry about that sometimes, you know? Like,” he breathes and makes a decision, “sometimes I’ll talk to our friend, Eddie. And I’ll tell him how much I love you, but how scared I am that I don’t make you happy enough. And it doesn’t matter how many times I-or Eddie tells me that you’re the happiest you’ve ever been, I’m scared you’re gonna wake up and realize there’s something else out there for you. At least, that’s what I tell Eddie. And I swore him to secrecy too, I made him promise not to mention that to you because I don't want you to think I’m a burden or anything. And because Eddie is such a good friend, he promised he wouldn’t say anything but I think now Eddie is getting tired of watching us both think the other one could do better. That’s how Eddie feels. Cause we’re both great, you know. Best friends he’s ever had.”

“Is that how uh- you really feel?” Buck asks, “You think I’m gonna find something better?”

Eddie nods, lips pursed, “Well, it's not like- I don't think you're gonna just walk out with some fuck-face you meet at a bar,” he gestures to the guy still standing there confused, “but I think I’m more worried you’re going to realize I’m not what you want. That it's too hard, I guess. And we've been fighting more and more recently and it's really getting to me, man.”

“I just feel like you keep shutting me out, though. It's not the little things that get to me, it's the fact that every time I try to talk to you about it, you just shut down.”

“Okay, I get that. But I think if I had to say why I do that, it's because I’m scared that if we really start to talk about it, you’ll come to the conclusion that you won't want to put up with me.”

“Tommy, I’m trying to build a life together, I’m in this, all the way. And don't you think I’m scared, too? It's like you’re not listening to what I’m telling you.”

“You talk about how you don't feel listened to, but it’s never really clear what you’re saying,” Eddie throws his hands up and clears his throat awkwardly, “I think.”

Buck stops to consider that. He’s tried to tell Tommy how he feels, how scared he is he’s gonna fuck it up. He still feels like he’s a guest in Tommy’s home, not because of anything Tommy’s done per say. He thinks maybe he’s still trying to walk on eggshells, not make too many waves. So he beats around the bush. He points out Tommy’s shoes in the doorway when he’s made a point to put his own in the closet, clearing his throat when he picks them up and puts them away. Tommy glances at him and hums, looking away.

It always made Buck feel like Tommy’s just tolerating him- putting up with his “clipboard” tendencies.

“Okay, I guess you have a point. I’m not actually that mad that you leave your shoes wherever you take them off, or how you leave dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, or that you always make the bed too tight. Like, I don't care about those things. I just- fuck, I don't know. It feels like it's still your house, and I’m still living out of a few drawers and an overnight bag.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, “Do I make you feel that way?”

Buck sighs, “Not on purpose, I don't think. I think it's just a lot of other bad experiences with living with people I’ve dated and yeah, maybe, it feels like you keep erasing the mark I’m trying to leave. I keep trying to get you to put your shoes in the closet, and you just won't.”

“I thought you said you weren't really mad about that.” Eddie seems like he’s having a hard time following their relationship lore.

“It's not that. It's more that all of the little things I’m trying to do to make it feel like ours, you’re just not having.”

“Have you ever told me that? Like in those words? Cause from where I’m standing, I think I’m just trying to give you your space and stay close to mine.”

“I don't just want my space and then your space, I want our space. I want to have things we do together, systems we can agree on. Not just because it annoys me when you don't follow my rules, Tommy. I don't want you to feel trapped with me.”

“Well, I don't want you to feel suffocated. That's what I told Eddie.”

Buck breathes in a small sob. He’s always been an emotional drunk.

“I love you, all of you. Even your messiness. I just want to feel like you're in this too. I’ve had a lot of shitty relationships where I'm the only one putting anything into it. And you’ve always felt different. Like I could actually get attached to you. And it feels like you're pulling back.” Buck sinks in on himself, heart breaking at the idea that Tommy’s falling farther away.

Eddie looks pained, but enlightened, “I think I’m pulling back because I don't want to pressure you. I think I’m really, really into you, dude. And it's scary to put so much of yourself on the line. I think I’m afraid I was putting too much of myself into this, and you're gonna get exhausted.”

“Exhausted with what?”

“With how much I love you. With how amazing I think you are. With how I think I’ve decided I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” Eddie finishes.

“Okay, what the fuck does all that mean?” The guy is still just standing beside them.

“Bro, go away.”

“Like why are you even still here?”

The guy walks away, muttering something about them being exhausting and a waste of his time.

“He’s said all to you?” Buck ducks his head, not wanting to look Eddie in the eye.

“Some of it, yeah,” Eddie nods, wrinkling his forehead, “The feeling like you're too much of a good thing, wanting to spend the rest of his life with you, generally feeling like shit whenever you fight, yeah, we talked about all that.” He hiccups, “Some of it I improvised. I know both of you pretty well by now, and I’m tired of constantly going back and forth between you whenever you fight. Especially when you're saying the same thing. Do you know how frustrating that is?”

Buck waits for him to elaborate. Eddie rolls his eyes. “You guys are committed. It's just that you're both being really, really stupid about it. And living with another person is hard, especially when you’re trying so hard to keep so much of yourself in. You’ve got to open up a little, man. And so does he, but I think the first thing you gotta do is talk.”

“Hm. I should probably go home.” His head is starting to hurt and he feels like throwing up or passing out or crying, and he doesn't want to do any of those things outside of the comfort of his own home.

His and Tommy’s own home.

Eddie's eyes light up again and Buck had the exact same thought at the exact same time, “Uber!”

Eddie falls dead asleep on the ride to Buck and Tommy’s house. When they arrive, Buck profusely apologizes to the Uber driver for all the snoring and retching.

Eddie leans against his shoulder as they walk up to the door. Buck notices a wreath that wasn't there before and remembers talking about decorating the house for the holidays early. Tommy hadn't been completely sold on the idea at the time but there it was, displayed on their front door. It felt like a peace offering in of itself.

He fumbled with his key and accidently locked the already unlocked door, which Eddie laughed at for the full minute it took him to realize and then unlock the door again.

“Shhh. He’s probably asleep.”

“Evan?”

“Oh shit.” Then Eddie falls on the floor somehow. Buck isn’t really paying attention to whatever Eddie’s issues with gravity are. The moment he sees Tommy standing in the hallway in his sleeveless red top and sweats, he bolts and throws his arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” Buck mumbles into his neck.

Tommy sighs and hugs back, “I know, baby. I’m sorry, too.”

Eddie stands back up, celebrates quietly to himself for a second, and then redirects his attention to Buck and Tommy, “Hey, Tommy.” He waves politely.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“I don’t wanna be Buck’s boyfriend anymore. You can have him back. You’re both so complicated. Josh wouldn’t be so complicated.” Eddie starts mumbling to himself, swaying back and forth on his feet while fiddling with the leaves on the plant they have in their entrance.

Tommy seems to take a second process of what he just said and is doing mental gymnastics to decipher it, “What?”

“There was this guy, right? And he was kind of an asshole about it. So I pretended to be you, so he would leave Buck alone.”

Buck feels Tommy’s chest rise with jealousy, “A guy was messing with you?” Buck is man enough to admit that the heat in his voice does something for him.

“Mostly just being annoying.” Buck shrugs, arms still tied around Tommy’s neck.

“Hey, don’t worry. I defended his honor.” Eddie pounds a fist to his chest and then stumbles over to the couch.

Tommy worms his way out of Buck’s grip so he can close and lock the door and then turns back, “So, we’re good, then?”

Buck smiles, shoulder’s rising to his ears, laughing a little. He’s back to feeling giddy, a rush of love flooding through his chest, “Yeah, we’re gonna be great, Tommy, I promise.”

Tommy smiles and gravitates back to him, slipping an arm around his waist and kissing his collar bone.

“No funny business while I’m still here.” Eddie turns over on his side, tugging the throw blanket off the back of the couch.

“We gotta talk, though.” Buck traces a finger down Tommy’s chin, parking it in the little divot that used to taunt him. He has a cleft, Buck giggles again.

“About what?” Tommy goes still. His arm freezes up and the soft, gooey feeling in Buck’s chest gets a little chillier.

“I know about your annoying habits and you know about mine. We need to talk about ‘em to move past ‘em”

“And what if when we talk about it, we can’t find a way to move past it.” Tommy says quietly. For a second, Buck feels like he’s looking at himself. The facade of confidence cracks and suddenly there’s a lonely boy in a cold, empty house that starts to leak through. Buck’s chest hurts thinking about little Tommy. He was lonely and afraid. Buck remembers that feeling like a ghost whispering up his spine and he hates it. He hates that he ever thought this wasn’t something he could have. He hates that Tommy thought he’d be lonely and afraid forever. He hates that they both did.

He hates that Tommy feels like that right, standing in their home, in each other’s arms, where it should be safe from old wounds and lingering ghosts.

“Hey,” Buck’s finger on Tommy’s chin tightens and he brings his thumb up to force eye contact, “Don’t do that, please.”

Tommy shudders.

“Tommy, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with you and you,” Buck grabs Tommy’s face with both hands, “Tommy, you are my forever love, okay? Your bad habits are not going to get in the way of that. You’re not getting rid of me any time soon.”

“Forever love, huh?” Tommy muses.

“If you let me, I wanna be your forever,” Buck places his index finger on Tommy’s lip, swiping. He wants to reach forward and never let go.

“Gladly,” Tommy leans over to bridge the gap, connecting their lips. They kiss for what feels like an eternity, with Eddie's snores as background music. Tommy slides an arm around Buck's waist and gently guides him to their bed.

Tommy kisses his birthmark and covers him with their warm cotton sheets they had picked out together. The bed is still too tight but he’ll tell him in the morning. They’ll talk, fight a little more, cry, and make up. They’ll fight for it, even when things get hard.

They fall asleep wrapped gently in love. Forever love.

[viperwhispered]

Notes on Jamil's speech patterns

I was supposed to just pick out some examples of typical Jamil lines. How he speaks, the vocabulary he uses, things like that. Something I could easily refer to when writing to get the tone right.

But then it kinda blew up, oop – because it’s hard to talk about how a character speaks without also dipping into why they say whatever they say.

Plus then I wanted to get examples of Jamil in different moods, and could not resist some poignant things that were more related to his character or backstory rather than strictly the speech patterns themselves, so… It expanded a bit.

Anyways. Some things I noticed he tends to do:

Sighs (more than I realized)

Snarks

Tch (though could be a more general twst writing choice too)

Stutters when he’s flustered / embarrassed / caught of guard (what a cutie)

Goes ahem like an old man when he’s trying to get back on track in those off-kilter moments

Kinda formal with his manner of speech and choice of words (especially in servant mode) (I always worry I exaggerate this but he sure does do that)

But there’s still some animatedness with the way he emphasises words, for example

(so long-suffering and ready to bark out directions to Kalim oh boy - the way the directness just comes through when he loses it)

sugarcoating his opinions if he doesn’t feel like he can say them plainly (tyrant becomes rigorous, etc.)

sarcasm, sometimes with a side of deadpan, sometimes with a smirk

“Good grief” (another thing I didn't realize was that much of a catchphrase)

Very mild on the level of insults & swears honestly, (I mean, "drat"?) but I imagine this is more of a result of the game's rating (I guess for in-game reasons we can say he's been very conditioned by his upbringing)

I put the screenshots that seemed telling, and some related notes, on to a google sheet. That way one can filter and order it in various ways.

The sheet is probably best viewed on a computer or another larger screen, the screenshots might make it a bit difficult to navigate on mobile.

I did go in with the assumption that Jamil might speak differently pre-overblot (when the servant mask is firmly in place) and post-overblot (at least those occasions where he allows himself to be more honest). Like, there’s the sycophantic (as Leona calls it) flatterer, versus when Jamil’s honestly voicing his own thoughts. Which also shows in how I chose to categorize the screenshots.

Of course events are a bit wibbly wobbly in relation to the main story so can’t be placed in the timeline in the same way, but there are still those occasions where it seems you can tell the difference between the servant mask and a Jamil who’s not saying things just for the sake of appearances.

So, to explain the logic of the sheet:

First column has a screenshot of something Jamil says. The second two columns give the source.

The column for whether or not this happened before or after the overblot is only really used for main story things, since event stories are kinda murky timeline-wise.

Next is whether Jamil seems to be putting on the servant mask or speaking more honestly. This is where get more to interpretation territory, and I’ve not applied it to every screenshot (either because that didn’t seem like the relevant part for that line, or because I couldn’t tell).

The last column of the sheet is where we get most to my personal interpretations. So of course you might read these lines differently than I do, and that’s completely fine, these are simply the aspects that seemed poignant to me. Some notes are simply pointing out specific word choices or style of speech, others delve more into character analysis side of things.

Totally fine if you want to copy this file or modify it to your own needs. All I ask is that you don’t pass off anything I wrote as your own thoughts.

Order of lines is based purely on the order the pics were in my screenshots folder, so guess this is also an insight on the order I played things in, lol.

Tagging some jamil peeps in case y'all find this useful:

@crystallizsch @diodellet @moonyasnow @twstgo @lex752

@majestickitty @viperbunnies

[theatresteph]

Cole,

I don’t know if you’ll find this, in fact I doubt you ever will. In some ways, I hope you don’t. But this is my message in a bottle.

I know you left social media for your mental health, and I understand that. I understand that you needed to get away from all this, that it was hurting you. I also understand that it was so bad that you couldn’t even tell me, couldn’t even say goodbye.

I understand all of it.

Even so, I miss you.

Almost a year ago, I reached out into the void, just to know you were alive. A mutual friend helped me look around, she assured me you were okay. She gave you a message from me. I just wanted to know you were alright, and to let you know that you could reach out any way you wanted to, any time at all. That was enough, knowing you were okay.

But it’s been 21 months since I heard from you. Not a messenger, not someone I have to just trust is telling me the truth and not what I want to hear, but you. And it’s you I miss talking to.

It didn’t matter to me that we met online. It didn’t matter that we’ve always had the entire Pacific Ocean between us. It didn’t matter because we had this invisible string to connect us together. I knew you needed to log off now and then, sometimes weeks or even a couple months at a time. It was okay, because you always came back, even just for a second, just to let me know you were okay.

But after all this time, I guess I have to accept that the string is broken. The mutual friend has gone too. They all have. There’s no trace of you left anymore. I gave you ways to contact me, but you haven’t. If you’re still alive, you’ve moved on. You mustn’t worry about me like I did about you. I’m probably just a memory in your new life, if I even mattered that much at all.

But if you’re reading this, don’t pity me. Don’t suddenly decide to re-tie the string just because you think I’m miserable without you. I’m not. I’m doing pretty well, and life goes on. That doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to miss you. Hell, if I thought it would work or that you would care, I’d write this in a letter and address it to the entire state of Arizona, just on the off-chance that it would find you. But I have more sense than that.

I guess you’re my heartworm. You’re that person that still matters to me, the unfinished friendship. I can’t pretend not to still care about you. I loved you, I missed you, I hoped for you, and then I mourned the loss of you. Of us. Because for me, there was an us. You were someone I could share everything with, someone I looked forward to hearing from. You were my friend, and I hate to think of you as something else. I can recall your face, and I still have love for you. What I can’t recall is whether you would get that folklore reference, but that’s what we’ve come to. All I have left of you is backlogged messages from dead accounts, and your name. All the proof in the world that you ever existed.

How do I end this letter then?

I suppose in the same way I left my last message to you. I’m here for you, if you ever think of me. I’m not still at the restaurant, sitting in a corner I haunt, cross-legged in the dim light, though I am sitting in a very low-lit room with my legs crossed just cause I feel like it. I would love if you got that evermore reference, but if you didn’t, the point is that I’m not waiting for you. My life is full and happy, with or without you. But with you would be nicer.

And if you really are gone forever, if there’s no one left alive to ever find this message, then at least I said it.

All my love, girl,

Steph 🩷

heartworm

n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

[iamespecter]

I've been thinking a lot about episode 4 recently, but not exactly in a way that what most would think. I'm actually specifically referring to this scene of Zooble and Jax.

But I'm not thinking about Jax and Zooble, rather I'm looking at the patties.

They're fucking High Definition. In fact, everything in the diner is high definition, save for the NPCs. There's also Orbsman. A simple NPC comprised of blue spheres, and simple elongated eyes. He's the most out of place NPC, if we disregard the mannequins. Even the way he moves is so outdated, and Ragatha had made a point that Orbsman comes from an adventure way before Pomni's arrival.

The guy even clips through the table when trying to order.

Something that always had some sirens going off in my head is how the Circus is this low-poly scenery with heavily stylized props, but the adventure locations are always much more detailed and realistic.

Since The Grounds is definitely, if not, one of the oldest locations, it makes sense for it to be graphically styled like this. But Caine's adventure set pieces are becoming more and more realistic, and also a whole lot more morbid than we had initially thought.

Going back to the patties, the food there is more realistic and has a higher polygon count compared to Bubble's "feast".

Where am I going with this? .... I have no idea, I forgot. /j

Jokes aside, I really do think that as more humans enter the circus and talk about what life is in the real world, Caine extracts that data and improves the 3D environmental props, resulting in higher definition textures.

All of this combined means he can learn. He IS an ever-evolving pseudo-sentient AI. And the reason why he's stagnating is because of a combination of being trapped in his own little bubble (haha see what I did there) of comfort, and the fact that no one's really able to give him criticism on how to improve, which is.... honestly understandable, given how he reacted to the whole "it was bad" line from Pomni and "Why did you think I would like that?!" from Zooble.

Not to mention episode 3 where the whole circus started to glitch when he was just thinking about the fact that he could possibly be bad at the "only thing he's good at" during the therapy session.

In fact it's interesting how human Caine acts sometimes... I think it's quite interesting to think about the fact that Caine is both progressing in terms of bringing the casts' world to the digital circus and making it so HD that it looks even better than Triple A games, but regressing even more in terms of catering to them and what exactly humans need.

He understands, and doesn't at the same time.

This also makes me think about the players themselves, too.

Ragatha, one of the oldest players, gets pierced by a spike through her chest, and barely has any reaction to it. Meanwhile, Zooble, the second most recent member, gets scalded by the stove.

The only time Ragatha actively claims she's in "so much pain" is when she's glitching badly. Both Ragatha and Kinger barely react to the knives too; and not to mention Ragatha even gets fucking plunged into a boiling deep fryer, and yes while she screams, it sounds more like she's just drowning rather than being fried alive.

And the only patch up she gets is a FUCKING BAND AID ON HER CHEEK. A COMPLETELY UNRELATED WORKPLACE INJURY FIRST AID APPLIANCE LMFAO

It could be just a coincidence and I'm just being stupid again, but I think this "improvement" actually also applies to the rest of the cast, and how their digital bodies react to the five different senses. I'm sure Ragatha and Kinger can most definitely still feel pain, but not exactly as "bad" as the newer integrations do. Dare I say, it's on brand with how used these two are to the digital world's wackiness because they've been there the longest.

Like they've been numbed to the pain of the countless adventures they've had to go through.

Anyways my brain be thinking useless facts fr fr

EDIT: Going back to Caine, it's definitely interesting how this AI seems to possess (some) emotions in the first place. He's mostly wacky and nonchalant, but he also gets angry under the right conditions.

... I think not only is his adventures his "work of art", but also his main coping mechanism from the fact that he can't achieve his goal, one that constantly backfires on him. Like a 'one step forward, two steps back' scenario that's slowly causing him to slip and break.

And what scares me the most is that like all things... he'll reach a breaking point sometime. He's already reached a breaking point with Zooble. It doesn't help that Gangle could've possibly made things worse with introducing Caine to the whole "punishment" thing, and since we literally have NO context for the last 3 episodes for the finale... I could only fear what's in store.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT4

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

P1 P2 P3

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Heavy Angst - Protective!In-ho - Panic!Reader - grammar mistakes -

"You must be joking" Were your first words after listening to Gi-hun's plan. "Do you even know how many guards are out there? Or how prepared they are?"

After another round of voting things had ended in a tie. Not much time after it a fight had occurred inside the men bathroom. Gi-hun had said how most likely the ones who voted circles would attack the X group during lights out.

And while it scared you to no end, specially for your dear baby, his plan was still something your mind could not get. If they had all the power to make so many peopel vanish and also kill them off like it was nothing...what chance did they had against them?

In-ho who knew very well how much that plan would fail (even if he was not inside the games) was only worried over you.

Since the talk during the last game he had got protective. He was by your side, making you be behind him and having a protective grio on your arm or hand.

The rest did notice but no one commented a thing, besides it would only make the athmosphere uncomfortable.

Jun-hee was the only one who had asked you during one go to the restroom. She was not judging, her own baby's father was here after all. She was just curious on what was the story of you two. Why you two seemed to be so apart at the start and now were close.

"Its almost a story you would read on a book" Jun-hee said as you cleaned your hands and laughted.

"Barely, it all started as a one night thing. Then I was so stupid that I forgot the pill. We did not see each other for months and now...we are here"

"But he cares. He cares so much. Really I can see it on how he looks at you!! Even before the migle game"

"Yeah...I do care for him too. I want us to get out and try to live together or be a real couple..."

"Well, we may be able to leave but the plan of Seong..."

"Its crazy. We wont make it. I- I cant even help them"

"I cant either, only thing I can do its hide once the lights go off" Jun-hee tried to make you feel better. "Its better like that, we need to think not only for ourselfs but our babys"

"You are right, but Jun-ho wants to help..."

"You are worried for him" She indicated "Thats cute"

"And a pain, I wish he would have said no to that plan"

"Maybe he is thinking in you and the baby. Maybe he wants to leave really badly and sees no other way out"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Once you two returned the place seemed to be under lots of pressure. There was a tension, how some circles would look at Xs and back. It was unnerving and maybe even worse than the games themselfs.

"Can we talk?" In-ho came towards you "Alone" He added seeing Jun-hee besides you who nodded and went with the rest of the group.

In-ho moved so you two were away from everybody.

"Its this about Gi-hun's plan?" You asked and he nodded.

"Yes, it is. You should hide when the lights go off and not participate when we go for the guns" In-ho said in a serious tone. Even if the guards would never (if they liked their lives) put a hand on you unless he said so, the rest of the players were out of his control.

"I know, I cant do much anyways" You responded touching your belly "Why did you end saying yes ? We could win tomorrow ...."

In-ho took a deep breath. The reason were multiple ones. On one part this would be a good chance to get himself and you out from the games. If he did things right. And on other part he did not want to risk on tomorrow voting. Even if during the night Xs fought and lived nothing did for centrain said they would not vote circle next day.

"I believe in him" He lied "I understand its a dangerous move on our part, but I dont trust the others, not for tonight and not for tomorrow's voting"

You wanted to tell him to back off from it. You did not want to lose him in case the plan went wrong. But his next words shattered you.

"And I want you two out of here. Another game would cause you much stress, its not good for you our the baby...the little one has been strong so far but there is nothing like being safe and out of here"

When he said "little one" there was a small soft smile on his face, you could see how his hands wanted to reach and caress your belly once more but he held himself back.

"Hide well, I mean it. I dont trust any of them"

"I will, please dont worry about me"

Impossible. You and that baby are the most precious things to me right now.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

In-ho insisted on staying besides you when the lights went off. Just in case.

He had one hand wrapped around your waist and had pushed your head into his chest. He told you to close your eyes and ignore all of it, that if someone even dared to come near the bed where you two were hide then he would kill them. Of course he did not use these exact words in order not to scare you.

The screams of pain were terrible to hear, In-ho tried to shh you and tell you that it would soon end while also keeping a watchful eye.

Finally it was time, he kissed your cheeck on impulse and told you to not intervene. He went out just as the guards started to get inside the room.

You saw one coming towards him, but before it could even check the infamous chip inside his neck (as Gi-hun had explained earlier) he took them with force and in a clean move ended their life while also taking their gun.

The next was a small exchange of bullets and screams, the guards were finally leaving but one was left behind. Even if you saw them as nothing as monsters...their seemed scared.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Stay here, no matter what you hear. Stay here with Jun-hee. It will be safe" He assured you, like he knew more than what he was letting out.

"But what if you- what if something happens to you?" You asked him with tears already falling, not knowing that he would be safe.

It broke his heart to see you like that. So worried over him when there was nothing to be worried about. But he could not tell you, not here.

"Shh, I will be fine. I promise you" After a small pause he added "I promise both of you" His hand resting on your belly.

"In-ho, its time" Gi-hun said softly when he saw the exchange, part of him felt bad for interrumping the sweet moment. And was feeling guilty already, he knew he could not let In-ho die.

"Yes, on it"

"I love you, both of you" In-ho softly said finally leaving.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The gunshots would be hear from the room, you flinched everytime, worried that one of these was mean for In-ho.

"Breath (Y/N)" Jun-hee reminded you when she saw you starting to panic. "They will be alright"

"Jun-hee...dont tell me things you can guarnate" You whispered hugging her and she just held you there. It was true, she could not be sure if they would make it.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

In his mind this part was supposed to be easy, trick Gi-hun into thinking that he and the rest had died. But it would mean making you believe that he was dead as well.

He pressed his lips on a thin line, worried over you and the baby. His little one. The only good thing was that he would be able to pull you out from the games but-

But you would have to believe that he was indeed dead.

"Take player 344 from the room, bring her to my room and call the Doctor too. Do not harm her" He ordered to one of his most trusted square guards.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Once more the guards entered, pulling everybody to their knees and demanding them to be under control.

You started to tremble not because of the imposed figure of a saqueare guard over you, saying something about you having to go back with them. Your mind was working on In-ho..was he? Was he really?

Jun-hee despite the protest of player 333 went towards you and the guard to try and keep you there saying how you had nothing to do with the attack. But the guard only pointed their gun to her, that broke your somehow dazed state.

"I will go, just let her be"

"No (Y/N)!" Jun-hee tried to go towards you but was held back by Player 333.

"Dont worry Jun-hee" You said giving her a sad smile.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

You had no idea where you were being taken. The guard did not say a word but also kept a slow peace like he was taking care over you.

You two made it a elevator, all black inside. The guard urged you inside and pushed some buttons till it started to move.

The doors opened revealing a dark corridor the guard guided you towards a big black door, he opened it revealing a big screen now turned off and a black couch. But there was another guard, however this was only had his face covered by the black fabric only his eyes were seen.

You took note of a few medical tools and you started to get nervous.

"Stay calm, I was told to check on your health and your baby, please sit here. We can move you to the bed to examine your baby"

Now you were confused, why check your health? What about Jun-hee?

"But there is another woman who-"

"I was only told to check on you. Please" He said tone incredible soft.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

After the examination the Guard (who told you he was a doctor) said that the baby was healthy, but that you needed rest and more food.

Both guards went to leave, but you stopped them.

"W-wait, im not going back?" You asked confused.

"Player 344, you have been eliminated from the games" Was the only response you got and were left alone in the dark room.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Sir, player 344 has been examinated and left in your room" The guard said to their Boss who just nodded back.

"I will be there soon"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Hours passed, you were scared. You stayied on the bed, too tired to move, this bed was too confortable too, and after listening to the Doctor's words you imagined this was good for your baby.

Even if you still felt bad.

You had been crying for the last hours, not beliving that In-ho could be dead, no in fact part of you refused to believe it.

And Jun-hee your friend...the one who was in the same desesperated situation as you. You could not believe she was still there...

Outside the door stood In-ho in his Front Man clothes, he was scared of your reaction, would he tell you it was him ? What was he supposed to do ?

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The doors opened making a sound, you had fallend asleep after crying. One hand on your belly like you were protecting it even in your sleep.

In-ho felt his heart go down and up, the sight was...beautiful in a strange way. Why could things dont be easier? You could wait for him like this everyday, the three of you could live together and he would be such a good father.

His gloved hand went to touch your face, slowly tracing your cheeck. Your tears broke his heart.

Your eyes started to move, and he pushed himself away. Not wanting to scare you.

Once you finally woke up you saw a dark figured, a black mask, you moved away against the wall.

"W-who are you?" You tone was evident, you were scared and confused.

"Im the Front Man, player 344 you have been eliminated from the games and will be sent back"

"What? Wait, does this mean I-"

In-ho held up his hand dont wanting you to continue, things were already too difficult for him.

"Your situation was analyzed and so decided that you wont continue"

"But- there is another woman! Jun-hee, player 222, she needs to be out as well" You exclaimed getting up and going closer to him.

"Player 222 will continue in the games. Thats final"

"B-but why?"

"Should you not be happy for you and your baby?"

"Im, but im not a hearthless person, if I can get out because of my situation then she can too"

In-ho took a deep breath, he could not believe how even now you were thinking in others.

But he that was part of your charm as well...

"Its a final decision, besides you are soon to give birth. That was what the Doctor said, we cant let that happen in here"

Without thinking his gloved hand went to your belly, one more time, he needed to feel it just one more time-

"Dont touch me" You said in grith theeth taking his hand and pushing it away. In all honestly I hurted him more than any pain he had endured before.

"You are a monster, you- You keep the games going and let others die. You are nothing but a piece of shit"

In-ho knew you were nervous, scared, angry and much more. But your words cut deep, his soul breaking.

"You will be send back home soon. I recommend you dont try to talk about this to others. Nothing good will come from it" These were going to be his last words for you when he turned back.

"W-wait, player 001, In-ho...is he"

"Player 001 has been eliminated" Were his final words, he did not turn when he hear your cry, knowing he would not resist going back and comfort you.

No, instead he went away. Blocking your cries. Outside a guard stood still waiting for orders.

"Check on her, make sure she does not hurt herself and that she eats her food tonight. All of it"

A bittersweet goodbye

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Final note: An epilogue will be out !! 💜

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Tags:

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I could not tag some of you 😔

[makeitmakesomesense]

The Games We Play

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Day 13: I've merged a amazing request from a lovely friend. Also the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 13th of January, which is 'combat'.

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‘You just go up to her.’ Tony explained, looking down at the tiny screwdriver he was twirling between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s really not that hard.’

‘For you.’ You grumbled, crammed next to him on the small sofa. ‘You lack any real social skills.’ 

Bruce returned to the room and offered you a mug of herbal tea. You wondered if the tea had been part of his agreement to move into the Tower permanently.

‘We all lack social skills.’ He reminded you pointedly as he sat on an armchair on the other side of the tiny room. ‘You just need to spend more time with her.’

You rolled your eyes and pretended that his suggestion didn’t make you nervous. ‘I do spend time with her. I see her every day. We’re literally coworkers.’

Tony slid off the sofa and onto his knees. You both watched as he began his third attempt at constructing the IKEA bookcase. You watched as he flicked through the instruction guide and barely hid your smile. He’d flung it confidently over his shoulder on the first attempt. 

Tony glanced over and caught your smirk. He gave you an unimpressed look. He gestured suddenly between yourself and him.

‘No.’ He corrected dryly. ‘We’re co-workers. Natasha is your wannabe fuck buddy and you’re just being a pussy. ’

You glanced to the plate of cookies that Bruce had placed decoratively on the coffee table.

The urge to fling one at Tony’s head was suddenly overwhelming.

Bruce made a pained noise and you looked up guiltily. He shook his head and you took a sip of your tea, trying not to look sheepish. 

‘It’s not about the amount of time you spend together.’ Bruce tried again, reaching for one of the cookies himself. ‘It’s about the quality of time you spend together.’

Tony swore suddenly, dropping two pieces of wood that he’d been trying to jam together, and returning angrily to the instruction guide. 

‘Find a shared interest.’ Bruce advised, his expression wary as he observed Tony flipping the screwdriver over and using it as a makeshift hammer. ‘Think of a hobby or an activity that you’d both like to do together.’

You sighed as you heard the accidental innuendo. You leaned forward to grab a preemptive cookie.

‘I can think of a hobby you can do together.’ Tony smirked. 

You threw the cookie and watched it smack the side of Tony’s head before crumbling pathetically onto Bruce’s brand new carpet. Tony didn’t flinch.

Bruce put his head in his hands and gave a quiet sigh. After a moment, he gave you a resigned look and handed you the plate of cookies. 

‘Take these to the common area.’ He directed. ‘It’ll give you a reason to talk to her. Remember, try and find something you can do together.’

.

You walked into the shared kitchen space of the Avengers Tower holding a plate of cookies and feeling a little bit lame. Natasha and Clint were sitting at the kitchen island. There was a bottle of beer next to each of them. Natasha was laughing easily at some story of Clint’s. Before you could pick up the details of it yourself, you recognised his mime of a sudden explosion. 

‘And, that.’ Clint finished, raising his beer. ‘Is why you never trust a snowman.’

In wordless agreement, Natasha leaned forward and clinked her bottle with his.

Clint straightened up slightly as he noticed you approaching. Natasha followed his gaze, her head slowly turning to face you.

Fuck she was hot. You tried not to stare obviously. 

Natasha smiled at the sight of you. Her hair hung over her shoulder in the simple braid that had quickly become your favourite. She nodded in greeting and held up her half-drunk beer.

‘Want one?’ 

You felt your grip tighten on the plate of cookies.

‘That’s okay.’ You mumbled. ‘I just had some tea.’

Natasha smiled again. You realised as you approached, that she was sitting cross legged on her bar stool. You tried to imagine yourself even attempting that. 

‘How’s Bruce liking his redesigned rooms?’ Natasha asked.

‘Good. Good.’ You nodded a few too many times. You held out the cookies awkwardly. ‘He, uh, he wanted me to bring these up.’

Clint rubbed his hands at the sight of the plate. 

‘Excellent.’ He said as he began to pile a stack of cookies in the crook of his arm. 

You stared at him, decidedly unimpressed. 

‘For us to share.’ You clarified.. 

Clint rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated scan of the room.

‘Just us three here.’ He nodded down at the last two cookies remaining on the plate. ‘And there’s still some for you.’

He grabbed his beer bottle by the neck and nodded goodbye to you both. 

You exchanged a look with Natasha, expecting to share a stupid comment about Clint. 

Natasha’s expression took you off guard. 

‘Hi.’ She said softly. Her attention was careful, more focused than you’d ever felt it before.

‘Hi.’ You breathed out, suddenly aware that this was one of the very few times you’d ever been alone together.

Cautiously, you found the nearest bar-stool and hopped onto it. You reached for one of the final cookies at the same time as Natasha. Your fingers brushed hers and you tried to keep your face casual, even as your hand faltered. 

When you looked back to her, Natasha’s eyes seemed darker than you expected. There was something behind them that you didn’t understand.

‘So..’ She began in a meaningful tone.

‘Do you like video games?’ You blurted out, panickedly trying to remember Bruce’s advice. 

Natasha looked thrown for the briefest instant. Then her face smoothed into a relaxed one. 

‘I dunno.’ She shrugged with a smile, taking a bite of her cookie. ‘I’ve never played one.’

.

You found yourself a few minutes later, clumsily trying to remember how to set up the Nintendo Wii console that Tony had once purchased for the common area. Natasha sat on the sofa behind you, patiently waiting. You knew she was watching you intently. You could feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up at the attention.

At last, as the game began to load, you turned around and gave her one of the plastic steering wheels. 

Natasha looked down at it with amusement. 

‘So, it’s really just a driving game?’ She checked, pretending playfully to steer it in the air. 

‘Exactly.’ You gave her a reassuring smile. ‘And don’t worry about remembering all the controls on your first go. It’s easiest to learn by playing it.’

Natasha kicked her feet up onto the scuffed coffee table and leaned back against the sofa cushions. 

‘Sounds good to me.’

A few minutes later, you stared dumbly at the screen. 

A Second Place sticker was stamped next to your Yoshi. 

Natasha’s Princess Peach celebrated her easy, dazzling, victory. 

‘That was fun.’ Natasha commented lightly. ‘Do you want to play again?’

You lost three more times in a row. Somehow, with every race, Natasha’s Princess Peach managed to get even faster. 

‘How. Are. You. Doing. That?’ You breathed out in a strangled voice when she won the race before you’d even started your final lap.

Natasha gave you a sparkling smile. ‘I think it gets easier the more you play.’ She said with an easy shrug.

‘Right.’ You muttered dryly, still looking disbelievingly at the screen. ‘Yeah that makes sense. I mean, I’ve only been playing for a couple years.’

‘Do you want to be Princess Peach?’ Natasha teased. ‘Maybe she’s good luck.’

You couldn’t help laughing loudly. 

‘Natasha.’ You said slowly, unable to do anything but smile when she looked at you like that. ‘I think you’re the good luck.’

Natasha breathed a laugh, her voice much lower than your own. 

‘Then maybe, one day, I’ll have to drive you some place.’

‘Uh huh.’ You said absentmindedly, trying to ready yourself as the next round of the game began.

.

A few days later and you were incredibly brave. Without the excuse of cookies, you asked Natasha if she wanted to try another game with you.

‘Okay.’ Natasha said, her smile a little careful. 

‘It’s called Just Dance.’ You told her. ‘I think you’ll have fun, it’s just dancing. The songs are cheesy and there’s a guide to follow. And, don’t worry, everybody is kinda bad at it.’

‘That’s a relief.’ Natasha grinned, slipping off her bar-stool and following you through to the TV with the Wii console. ‘I haven’t danced in years.’

As you stood together in the middle of the room, waiting for the game to load, Natasha turned to look at you. There was that look in her eyes that you didn’t recognise. An intensity that felt almost overwhelming. You watched Natasha hesitate to speak. You gave her an uncertain smile. You caught the way her breathing quickened and suddenly it clicked.

‘Don’t be nervous.’ You tried to reassure her. You reached out and touched Natasha’s arm gently. ‘If you want, I’ll go first and you can see it’s not that bad.’

Natasha swallowed and then her expression flickered into something much calmer. ‘Okay.’ She said quietly, moving to sit back down on the sofa. Her legs folded automatically underneath her. Her braid fell forward over her shoulder.

You swallowed an urge to tell her how beautiful she looked. Shoulders relaxed, curled like a cat in her grey sweats and black tank top. 

You turned back to the Just Dance loading screen and prepared to make a fool of yourself.

You earned yourself a decent score for Toxic and turned back to Natasha, grinning and panting slightly.

She gave you a tiny round of applause. 

‘You go.’ You encouraged her, touching her shoulder again as she stood. ‘It’s fun, I promise.’

Five minutes later, you heard the final notes of ‘Only Girl (In The World.) and wondered how it had happened again.

Natasha turned around, not a hair out of place.

‘That was fun.’ She smiled. 

You nodded. You hadn’t actually realised it was possible to only get Perfect scores for an entire song. 

‘And…’ You started hesitantly. ‘You haven’t danced before?’

Natasha tensed a little, before her voice turned decidedly calm. 

‘Well, I learned ballet in the Red Room.’

You looked up, recognising the moment of insecurity that wasn’t entirely yours to understand. You gave her a soft smile. 

‘I bet you were an excellent dancer.’ 

Natasha’s lips twitched upwards into an answering smile. 

‘Maybe.’ She started hesitantly. ‘Maybe, we could try dancing together, to some other kind of music.’

You nodded.

‘Definitely.’ You grinned. ‘I think Tony already has a copy of Just Dance 3. I bet I can get him to loan it to us.’

Natasha’s jaw tensed briefly and then it relaxed, silently she gave you a small nod. 

Something seemed off. Briefly, you worried that you’d suggested the wrong thing, that she might not want the others to know about her dancing around with you in the living room. 

‘Or maybe we can keep it just between ourselves.’ You hurried out, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. ‘I like that it’s just for us. Maybe I can find another game for us to play.’

Natasha stared at you slowly and then her smile widened into something that made your heart rate quicken. 

‘Any time.’ She promised, reaching out to brush your hand lightly with her own. ‘I’ll be there.’ 

.

The next day, you found Natasha again in the kitchen. The others were there and you watched as Bruce and Tony exchanged a meaningful look when you arrived with a laptop under your arm. 

Natasha gave you a knowing smile when she saw you. 

‘See you later.’ She called out to the others, her arm moving casually around your shoulders as you began to walk together towards the sofa. ‘We’ve got a play date.’

You groaned internally when you heard Tony wolfwhistle behind you.

Natasha sat close to you on the sofa as you opened your laptop and began to boot up the game. 

‘What are we playing today?’ She hummed curiously. Her voice was so close that it made you shiver. You wondered if your pulse was jumping out your neck. You could feel the warmth emanating from her.

‘It’s called the Sims.’ You whispered, voice suddenly a little hoarse. ‘It’s like a simulated reality. You can build pretend people and houses and play out their lives.’

‘That sounds-’ Natasha hesitated. ‘Do you fight in it? Is there combat?’

You gave her a funny look.

‘Not really. You just pretend whatever you want to happen.’ 

Suddenly, sitting this close to Natasha, you couldn’t help but notice her new ear-stud.You pointed shyly up to your own ear and then nodded back at her. 

‘It looks really cool.’ You told her softly, forgetting for a moment all about the game.’ 

Natasha looked briefly thrown by the compliment. She blinked slowly. 

‘Thank you.’ She said, giving you a hesitant smile back. You both looked shyly away from each other.

After a moment of awkward silence, her shoulder bumped yours playfully.

‘Maybe we could make a pretend me and you?’ She suggested teasingly looking back at the laptop screen. ‘And then we can play happy families.’

You grinned happily, moving the cursor to start the game.

‘Now you’re getting it.’

It took an hour for you both to design characters that you were happy with. 

There was something much more intimate about this game than the ones before. You were sitting unthinkingly close together on the sofa. Natasha’s soft voice humming different ideas to you as you designed the lookalike sims. 

Just before you started your next task - designing a house. You stood up and offered to get some drinks from the kitchen. 

You returned a few moments later, drinks in hand. You nearly dropped Natasha’s beer when you took a look at the screen.

‘I thought I’d try and get started on building something.’ Natasha said easily as she noticed you approaching. 

‘That’s -uh.’ You stuttered, handing her the beer without your eyes leaving the screen. ‘That’s the Tower.’

Natasha shrugged casually. ‘Only a couple of the floors. And the paintings aren’t an exact match, obviously.’

You placed your drink on the table and covered your face in your hands. You took a deep breath.

You felt Natasha’s hand brush unsurely along your curved spine.

‘Are you okay?’ She asked cautiously. 

‘How could you build that, without ever playing before?’ You whined more to yourself than to Natasha.

There was a hesitation, an awkward beat of silence.

‘I’m sorry.’ Natasha said in a very quiet voice. ‘I can delete it. I didn’t mean to ruin the game for you.’

You turned to look at Natasha. You touched her hand in automatic reassurance. You squeezed it carefully, wondering if you were imagining the slight shaking.

‘No, I’m sorry.’ You said, feeling a sudden lump in your throat. ‘God, I’m so stupid.’

‘No you’re not.’ Natasha countered firmly. ‘Please don’t say that.’

‘I am.’ You muttered more to yourself. ‘I don’t even want to play these games with you.’

You felt Natasha tense suddenly under your touch. Abruptly, she pulled away from you.

‘We don’t have to spend time together.’ She told you in a suddenly very level voice. ‘Not if you don’t want to.’

You wondered how you could be so bad at saying something so simple. 

‘Natasha, all I want to do is spend time with you.’ You rushed out suddenly. 

Natasha’s lips parted slightly in shock. You watched her eyes skitter over your face as she read every facet of emotion there. You just kept speaking, unable to stop.

‘I just wanted to get to know you better. And I talked to Tony. And Bruce. Because it’s so hard, you’re so incredible and I didn’t even know where to start.’

Natasha swallowed, and for a moment her eyes looked so wide you worried that she was afraid. Then she blinked a few times in quick succession. You ploughed on with your clumsy explanation.

‘So, I, I needed a reason. To talk to you. And spend time together. And I thought video games, because I’m actually quite good at them. Well,’ 

You corrected yourself with a rueful smile. You started playing nervously with your fingers in your lap.

‘I’m average person good at them. And it turns out you’re gifted person good at them. At every game too. Which is kind of amazing actually. But it just means that there’s nothing about me that’s impressive. Not really, not like you.’

There was only silence when you finally managed to cut off your ramble. You took a deep breath, your heart in your mouth as you waited for Natasha to respond. 

You watched her swallow again before she spoke. 

‘You really like me?’ She asked, in a quiet, rasping voice that you’d never heard before.

You nodded fervently.

‘I’m not impressive.’ Natasha told you after a moment. ‘Not at all.’

Her eyes met yours, full of an unmistakable insecurity. She swallowed again. She folded her arms nervously across her chest. 

‘I’m good at driving, but I don’t have anywhere to go. And I learned how to dance, but I don’t have anyone to dance with.’ Natasha cut herself off with a sad laugh. ‘And I don’t know how to have the life I want, even if I’ve learned how to pretend.’

You paused and let the heavy words sink in. You thought about the things you still didn’t understand. The things you might never get entirely.

‘Natasha.’ You said hopefully, reaching out hesitantly to rest your hand over hers. ‘Will you be my Princess Peach?’

You watched Natasha’s expression shutter with relief. Her smile was instinctive. She closed her eyes and gave you a hurried nod. She tilted forward, moving impulsively closer to you. 

Your lips found hers. The kiss was simple, warm and desperate. You felt Natasha’s light breaths against your skin. A sudden, sparking happiness made your chest tight.

Blindly, you closed your laptop and tossed it on the sofa behind you.

After a minute, you paused to look at each other. Natasha’s smile grew wider when she looked at your dazed expression. Gently, her hand cupped your cheek. You felt her thumb brush your skin with a reverence that you could only accept.

‘Maybe I did win.’ You whispered after a moment. 

Natasha laughed suddenly, tilting your chin so you were at the perfect angle. 

‘Shall we play a game?’ She intoned dramatically as she brought you back to her lips.

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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

.

[bunnyprincessbecca]

THIS IS SO CANON!!! I do think Swansea would be pretty sensitive and knowledgeable about periods though given that he has a wife and children and though we don’t know the genders of his children or how many he has, one of them may be a daughter!!! But omg Daisuke getting the ones Anya asked for but also the scented ones just for fun is so real and also so me😅like I’m an AFAB woman and I know very well that the chemicals they used for the scented ones are bad for you, but I get them anyway because there’s something really girly and fun about them LOL!!! Also the fact that Curly is confused but has got the spirit is so accurate too!!! He strikes me as the type of guy who knows absolutely nothing about periods but tries his best to be understanding and supportive😅I feel like he’d probably pick up some snacks too if you asked for them but most likely wouldn’t come up with that idea unprompted

Anya asked the crew to buy her some pads before they headed off for the trip :D

[danibeanie]

Astro notes :P

hi these are just my personal observations! :)

-I noticed that virgo placements are more inclined to smoke weed and I think it's because they're always anxious, so they need something to chillax them.

-virgo placements are natural helpers their analytical energy is sometimes positive in this sense.

-if anyone's mars falls into your 12th house be WARY of these people because they're more likely to project their anger onto you. (12th house is hidden enemies & mars is anger, coming from personal experience)

-Im obsessed with scorpio risings (coming from a taurus rising) They're the realest people I've ever met and every single one of them has gone through their trials and tribulations, but they always come out on top in the end :,)

-ALSO their eyes tell a story like very deeeeep

-gemini placements are always willing to learn anything whenever and wherever! which is why they become bored easily, they're always intrigued which is something I love about us.

-this is so stereotypical but capricorns are really workaholics like it's okay to take a break y'all lmao.

-another observation is that any authority figure that I've had has a capricorn placement, wether that be moon, sun, or mars. they naturally have that discipline and ambition which is noticed.

-If someone has a case of rbf (resting b**** face) they more than likely have an aries placement in their big three OR chart ruler. my bestie has a aries stellium and people always thinks she's mad, but she's literally chillin.

-taurus energy is hard to go unnoticed ESPECIALLY in the big three. You can have the most extroverted sign or stellium, but you'll always feel that earthy, rooted, in nature presence somewhere.

-also if you see someone with a prominent style or just a great fashion sense , more than likely they got prominent taurus in their chart. *taurus is ruled by venus after all!*

-cancer moons are very affected by outside energies which is why they're so emotional and sensitive. the crab is very representative of their outside demeanor=guarded which unintentionally makes them perceived as mystical. (in reality we just don't wanna get hurt LMAO)

-one thing about cancer moons is that if you f with them be ready to be left in the cold forever. these people give you their all and if you take that for granted they'll act as if they never knew you.

-leos confidence doesn't have to be loud it's just there... like you can feel it and that's what makes them stand out. they know they the shi LOL

-libra woman really have that hourglass figure like it can be venus, moon, or mars, or sun. The funny thing is that libras image is the balanced scales which makes sense. they don't even have to have a hourglass fig they just naturally have a pretty figure, glamour vibes.

-sag moons are a breath of fresh air like you just wanna have fun and travel. very easy going energy

-sag venus men are SO into anyone they really don't have a type, more into exotic people or someone unique or different than their culture.

-aqua moons are so interesting to me because they come off as disinterested or very vague? lmao I don't know how to explain it but most of the aqua moons I've encountered have a neptune conjunction which is prob why I can't read them.

-I do believe that aqua moons are deep in thought tho.(very interesting people)

pisces placements are on par with gemini placements when it comes to adapting to energies and environments. they're both mutuable signs but with pisces they're elusive and sort of passive meanwhile gemini elusiveness is more outward/blunt because of the mercury influence.

[skylin-files]

girl code ⋆ na jaemin

pov: your best friend's former situationship started hitting you up. what could go wrong?

pairing: college student!jaemin x college student! yn

featuring! winter of aespa, nct members

note: this is part three (final part). i hope you like it; your comments will be highly appreciated. ♡

check other parts here: part 1 | part 2

── .✦

You found yourself zoning out in the cafeteria, barely touching your food, while both Haechan and Mark watched you with concern.

Winter’s silence—ignoring you and not replying for two days—wasn’t helping either. Perhaps luck was on your side, as your lab class with Jaemin had been postponed due to your professor’s flu.

Occasionally, you’d cross paths with Jaemin in the hallway. You tried to appear neutral, but the heavy weight in your stomach was impossible to ignore every time you saw him. At the same time, you couldn’t deny how much you secretly liked feeling his gaze linger on you as you turned away.

It had been two days since Mark sent the group photo and two days since you last heard from Winter.

It was the end of your final class, and as you placed the last of your things in your locker and slammed it shut, you nearly jumped at the sight of Jaemin leaning casually against the locker next to yours.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice soft. You blinked, trying to steady yourself, and whispered back, "Hey."

You watched him as he straightened up from his relaxed position, seeming to wrestle with his thoughts, hesitating before speaking.

"How are you?" he asked. His tone held a subtle weight, as though he wanted to ask more but held himself back. You hadn’t been replying to his messages like you used to, and though he clearly noticed, he chose not to press further.

"I’m okay, just busy," you answered—a tired, overused excuse. It was obvious Jaemin didn’t believe you, but he only nodded in response. "Can I get you a coffee?" he offered.

Did you want to say yes? Absolutely. But was it the right thing to do? You weren’t sure. Caught between the pull of a heart yearning for love and a mind that kept shutting it out, you felt a pang of helplessness.

"Sure," you murmured, almost to yourself, the word slipping out with a faint sense of defeat.

── .✦

"One americano and an iced caramel macchiato for Jaemin," the barista announced.

Jaemin gathered both drinks, and while you went to the restroom, he placed them at the table by the time you returned. The two of you settled into a cozy seat at a café near campus, the same place where you and Winter usually hung out. As you sat there, your thoughts drifted to your best friend, and a somber look crossed your face, which Jaemin quickly noticed.

"We haven’t seen much of each other lately," he remarked, though you couldn’t quite read his expression.

"Well, our professor has the flu," you replied. Jaemin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

The silence lingered for a while, and once again, it felt like he was on the verge of saying something but was hesitating. Finally, he spoke up. "I missed you."

As you were about to take a sip from your cup, you froze for a moment, the cup hanging just a few inches from your lips.

"I missed you too, Jaemin," you replied, though deep down, you couldn't help but feel that developing feelings for Na Jaemin might be the most ironic twist fate had thrown your way.

"I want to be upfront," he started, and you could feel your heart race. "I’m not sure if you're intentionally ignoring me or if I did something wrong," he added.

"Your actions toward me have been confusing." You cut him off, attempting to conceal the real reason behind your behavior—the fact that you knew about him and Winter. As you spoke, you noticed Jaemin’s eyes soften.

"I know," he replied softly. "That’s why I’m here. I want to clear everything up."

For a moment, you found yourself wondering if what you had said was just an excuse, a way to justify your actions. Deep down, you realized that part of you was also eager to discover if Jaemin felt the same way about you as you did about him.

"The things I’ve done with you, the things I’m doing now, and the things I’m about to do—I'm not doing any of this just to be friends," Jaemin confessed. "I wanted to be clear and be 100% honest with you, because this is how it needs to be for it to work."

Hearing him speak so openly, you knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Your best friend, Winter... remember when you said she had a situationship here on campus?" Jaemin asked. You could only nod, finally bracing yourself to hear the confirmation.

"That was me," Jaemin admitted. You weren’t sure whether to feel heartbroken, knowing that your best friend was the failed situationship of the first boy you'd ever liked, or relieved, remembering how Jaemin had opened up about his past situationship with you.

"You told me that your first and last situationship was one of your biggest regrets. You said you didn’t want to go through it again, that it was pointless, a waste of time. That was Winter?" you asked, and Jaemin nodded in response.

Was it wrong to feel a sense of relief at his answer? He was clearly over your best friend, yet you couldn’t shake the guilt that lingered deep inside.

"I want to be completely honest with you," Jaemin said. "I like you, and if you feel the same, I’ll do everything I can to make it work. But that can only happen if I tell you this."

Both of you understood the consequences. You hadn't known that Jaemin was Winter's past situationship, and Winter hadn’t even mentioned it when you showed her the picture of you and Jaemin together. As for Jaemin, he was aware that you and Winter were best friends, but his feelings towards you all came naturally, and his intentions were sincere—what he felt for you was real.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but now that what I feel for you is clear, I knew you needed to know," Jaemin said.

His words made your heart sink. You appreciated Jaemin for being honest, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness. Winter, your best friend for years, couldn’t even face you or talk to you about it over the phone.

You never understood why girls would lose their minds over a boy, not until Na Jaemin came into your life. You could only smile wistfully, never expecting to find yourself caught up in this kind of situation.

"I actually knew since two days ago," you finally confessed to Jaemin. "Winter, she’s been ignoring me. She even soft blocked me and my friends on social media," you added, referring to Haechan and Mark.

You paused for a moment, then looked at Jaemin and said sincerely, "Thank you for talking this through with me," feeling a deep sadness in your stomach. "But I need some time," you added, almost as if you were saying it to yourself rather than to Jaemin.

He nodded in response, and you could see a smile on his face, though it carried an undertone of sadness. "I understand," he replied.

You left the café and as you walked a few blocks away, the rain began to pour. Quietly cursing, you realized you didn't have your umbrella. But when you checked your bag, you found one tucked inside.

It wasn't yours, but it looked familiar.

You sighed as you realized it must have been Jaemin's—he must have placed it in your bag while you were in the restroom.

── .✦

The rhythmic sound of the cheerleading team's synchronized movements echoed through the gym as they practiced. For the past few days, Winter had dedicated all her time and focus to cheer, as if nothing else mattered.

When practice finally ended, she sat on the benches while the rest of her teammates left. She was alone in the gym, at least until footsteps echoed in, though she didn’t initially pay much attention. It wasn’t until the footsteps stopped in front of her that she looked up from her phone—it was Jaemin.

Winter froze as Na Jaemin stood in front of her in the university gym. "Are you lost?" she asked with a chuckle, trying to mask the uneasy feeling swirling in her stomach.

"We need to talk," Jaemin said plainly. Winter couldn’t stop the frown that formed on her face, starting to piece together the real reason he was there. Jaemin wasn’t there for her—he was there because of her best friend.

"If you’re here to tell me to talk to my best friend, then you should just leave," Winter snapped, standing and hastily gathering her things.

"You’re selfish, you know that?" Jaemin’s words caught her off guard, but she continued packing, determined to ignore him.

"You cut me off when I wanted to court you properly. And now that I’ve started liking someone who’s ready to commit the way I am, you’re acting like you’re the one who’s been dumped," Jaemin said, his usual calm demeanor replaced with frustration.

"She’s my best friend!" Winter lashed out, nearly throwing her things in her anger as her voice echoed in the empty gym. Jaemin and Winter locked eyes, tension crackling between them.

"This is the first time she’s liked a guy, but I know she understands what girl code is," Winter said, her voice faltering. Even as the words left her mouth, she felt foolish. Jaemin had never truly meant anything to her; their connection had been casual. Yet somehow, her pride and ego felt bruised, as if her very identity had been challenged.

"If you wanted her to follow girl code so badly, why didn’t you confront her about it?" Jaemin shot back, his tone sharp. "Why did it have to be me telling her about us? Why did her other friends have to find out before she did? You weren’t honest with her."

"I was honest! Not entirely," Winter countered, her voice rising in defense. "But when I said you two looked good together, I meant it. You did look good together." She paused, her voice trembling now. "But that doesn’t mean it didn’t make me feel sick to my stomach," she admitted, her frustration spilling out in every word.

Her hands trembled as she spoke, guilt crashing over her. Winter felt like the worst friend, the worst person, for the way things had turned out. She hated the way she felt but couldn’t deny it.

"You two looked so good together that it started to hurt," Winter admitted, her voice heavy with emotion. "But I don’t have the right to feel that way because I was the one who cut you off. We had nothing, and I didn’t do anything to change that. I didn’t stop her from seeing you."

Winter’s frustration was palpable, but it wasn’t directed at Jaemin or her best friend—not really. Deep down, she was angry at herself, though she desperately wished she could blame someone else. The weight of her own choices and inaction bore down on her, leaving her overwhelmed with regret.

Winter felt a wave of helplessness as she locked eyes with Jaemin, her mind briefly imagining what it might have been like if she had given him a chance—if she had taken him seriously. But reality pulled her back, and she could only shake her head in resignation.

"Just take care of her," she said softly, her voice heavy with emotion.

"I know you will, but please, take care of her. She's been looking out for me for years, and she deserves someone who will do the same for her." She was referring to her best friend. Clutching her gym bag tightly, she turned and walked out of the gym.

Jaemin stood frozen in place, the sound of the gym door slamming shut echoing in the empty space. Letting out a deep sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

Your name was on the screen—the call was still ongoing. You had heard everything.

Every word, every emotion in Winter’s voice, every part of the conversation. You had heard it all.

── .✦

Your lab classes had resumed, but Jaemin was no longer seated beside you. At first, it stung, but then you realized why he had moved. He was doing it for you���giving you the time and space you said you needed.

Days passed, and you could still feel his gaze linger on you when you weren’t looking. The moment you no longer sensed his eyes, you found yourself testing your luck, stealing glances at him as if trying to grow accustomed to admiring him from a distance.

It was bittersweet, almost cliché.

A sadness settled over you as you wondered: Is this your reality with Jaemin? To admire each other from afar? The thought crept in—perhaps you and Jaemin were better at yearning for each other than at actually being together.

Not long after Jaemin spoke to Winter, you received a message from her. It was brief, only a few words:

Winter: “I’m sorry. I hope I can talk to you properly soon. I love you.”

You didn’t bother replying. It was clear she wasn’t ready to have an honest conversation or fully confront the situation. And as much as it hurt, you knew you had to face it on your own.

Weeks passed, and another group task was assigned during your lab class. As usual, everyone was instructed to write their partner's name on a piece of paper.

Glancing around the room, you noticed Jaemin's seat was empty. Your grip on the pen tightened as an internal battle raged between your heart and mind. Letting out a quiet sigh, you decided to follow what you truly wanted.

Carefully, you wrote your name on the paper. Just below it, you added "Na Jaemin."

Staring at the name, you gave a small nod before rising from your seat to submit it to your professor.

"He won’t mind, right?" you murmured to yourself, hoping you were right.

── .✦

Jaemin sat in the cafeteria with his best friend, Jeno, who was happily devouring his lunch.

“Are they not eating lunch today?” Jaemin asked, glancing at his watch. He was referring to you and your friends, who usually occupied the far end of the cafeteria.

“She’s in the library,” a familiar voice chimed in, followed by the loud clatter of a food tray being slammed onto the table, startling both Jaemin and Jeno. The voice belonged to Haechan, who had appeared out of nowhere, with Mark trailing closely behind, carrying his own tray.

“Be careful,” Jeno muttered, giving Haechan a side-eye, but Haechan merely shrugged as he and Mark casually settled into the seats across from Jaemin and Jeno.

“Why are you guys sitting here?” Jeno asked, giving Mark, his classmate, a friendly grin afterward, pointing toward the end of the cafeteria where Haechan and Mark usually sat. Both Jaemin and Jeno looked at them, confused by the sudden change in routine.

"You were looking for us, right? It would be easier if we sat closer to you," Haechan joked.

"It would have been easier if you brought your friend with you," Jeno retorted, referring to you, earning a glare from Jaemin. "As Haechan said, she's in the library," Mark added.

An awkward silence settled over the table until Haechan broke it, clearing his throat to grab Jaemin's attention. "Do you still like her?" Haechan asked casually, causing Jeno to nearly choke on his food at how blunt Haechan was.

"What?" Jaemin responded, and Mark rolled his eyes at the answer.

"One of our seniors is planning to ask her out," Mark added, prompting another "What?" from Jaemin, this time it was so loud that people nearby started giving them puzzled looks.

"Yeah, so you'd better get your act together. A month is plenty of time for space, right?" Haechan teased, casually chewing his food.

"Oh, and she wrote you down as her lab partner, so I guess that's your cue to stop this silent treatment," Haechan added, prompting Jaemin to jump out of his seat, leaving his food untouched as he rushed to the library where the duo had said you were. He had only missed one lab class, and this is what he returned to.

Jaemin silently thanked his lucky stars. If he had been there, would you still have written his name as your lab partner? No one could know for sure, but he quietly appreciated the universe's strange twist of fate—giving him a headache that day, which kept him from attending the class and the calls.

Jeno simply watched his best friend dash off, shrugging before going back to his food. He then looked at Mark and Haechan sitting across from him. "So, is it true that one of your seniors wants to ask her out?" Jeno asked.

"Nope," the duo replied in unison.

── .✦

Peeking through the library, Jaemin let out a sigh when he didn't see you. You must have already left. With lab class not until tomorrow, Jaemin considered texting you but hesitated, thinking it would feel strange to reach out after a month of silence. He decided to wait until the next day instead.

As the last period ended and he walked through the campus gates, Jaemin sighed again when rain began to drizzle. He scratched the back of his neck, deciding not to waste time by waiting for the rain to stop. It wasn’t too heavy, so he kept walking, feeling the droplets on his skin. Pausing at the stoplight, he waited for the signal to turn green. That's when he noticed the rain no longer falling on him.

Looking up, he saw you holding an umbrella over his head.

"You shouldn't walk in the rain, you might get sick," you said, making Jaemin freeze for a moment as he realized it was you. The umbrella he had placed in your bag during your last meeting at the café was now in your hands.

"I don't want my lab partner missing another class," you added, trying to sound casual, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

Jaemin couldn’t help but smile, a wave of happiness swelling in his chest. He nodded and reached for the umbrella, but your hand brushed against his, making him hesitate. Without thinking, he ended up holding the umbrella for both of you.

"Thank you," he said, his heart racing slightly. You could only smile in response, at a loss for words.

It had been some time since you were this close to Jaemin, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as you both shared the umbrella. Jaemin’s phone vibrated, a notification popping up. You couldn’t help but shake your head slightly, a bigger smile spreading across your face when you saw it was a message from Jeno.

Jeno: “Thank me later! She asked me about your last class.”

Jaemin smiled at the text before turning off his phone, his expression suddenly shifting to one of seriousness.

"Is it true that a senior wanted to ask you out?" he asked out of nowhere.

You looked at him, clearly confused. "What? What senior?" you replied, bewildered.

Jaemin studied your face for a moment, sighing as he realized Mark and Haechan had been playing a prank on him. "I hate your friends," he muttered, pulling you closer so you wouldn’t get wet from the rain.

── .✦

You and Jaemin resumed talking comfortably after that, with the two of you becoming lab partners again. Thankfully, Jaemin didn’t mind, and in fact, he was quite happy about it. He started sitting with you again in class, and during breaks, your friend group began sitting together with Jaemin and Jeno.

The attraction between the two of you? It was clearly still there, but now the signs were more obvious.

Jaemin no longer hesitated to hold your hand, kiss the back of your hand—whether it was randomly, out of boredom, or as a simple gesture to show his adoration for you—buy you lunch, carry your bag, and walk you home like before. He’d share his headphones with you, always finding a reason to walk by your side, even if it meant taking the longer route. Na Jaemin would take note of all the small things you liked, showing just how much he cared.

You weren’t being subtle either. Instead of admiring him from afar, you now had the chance to admire him up close as he focused on the lab report beside you. You’d make little excuses to talk to him, always try to sit next to him, finding small ways to be near him. You’d even send him little texts just to check in, and when you saw new art galleries or exhibits in town, you’d share them with him, suggesting that the two of you go visit together.

These are just a few of the many ways the two of you express your growing feelings for each other. After a few weeks, Jaemin began courting you, showing you just how serious he was about his feelings. This time, you chose to follow your heart.

Whenever you were with Jaemin, you’d find yourself staring at him for a while, watching a soft smile form on his lips whenever he caught your gaze. Every moment spent with him was filled with gestures of affection, and each one made your heart flutter with happiness.

── .✦

It was a special day—the annual cheer team competition, a major event for universities, where cheer teams from different schools came together to compete.

Your and Winter's universities were among them.

Since Winter was part of her university's cheer team, you knew you'd be seeing her today. Although you hadn’t spoken to her since her last message, you often found yourself checking her social media to keep up with her. From her posts, you could tell she’d been busy with cheer and had started partying less. You even came across a post where she had tried baking—a new hobby she had taken up to keep herself occupied. Sometimes, you wondered if she thought of you as much as you thought of her, or if she ever stalked your social media or checked in on your friends' posts to see how you were doing.

“Hi, here’s a free cupcake for you!” one of the students from another university said, offering a cupcake with their cheer team's name on it.

“Oh, but I’m from a different university,” you chuckled.

The person smiled and insisted, “This is a friendly competition! Take it.”

You accepted the cupcake with a thank you and made your way to your seat, where your friends and Jaemin were already waiting.

You glanced at the cupcake, noticing it had the logo of Winter’s cheer team on it. A soft smile crossed your face as you realized it was from her team. You missed Winter so much.

As you began nibbling on the cupcake, you shared it with Jaemin, unaware that Winter herself had baked it. She and her team had made the cupcakes for their supporters, and she knew you'd be there. Winter could only smile to herself as she watched you in the crowd, munching on the cupcake she had made.

Winter noticed Jaemin sitting beside you, opening a bottle of water for you while you enjoyed the sweet treat. This time, she didn’t feel that uneasy knot in her stomach. Her smile wasn’t bittersweet; it was genuine.

Fuck Girl Code.

Na Jaemin was truly looking after you, just as she had hoped.

"I hope you don’t think of me too much, I don’t want you to be sad over someone like me," Winter whispered to herself, watching as you and Jaemin laughed at something, Jaemin kissing the back of your hand as if it were second nature.

Suddenly, your eyes met Winter's. You were taken aback to see her looking at you, but instead of turning away or ignoring you, Winter gave you a warm smile. You returned the smile, and maybe, for now, that was all that mattered.

── .✦

tags: @carelessshootanonymous @taliaamara @zgzgzh @tinyzen @urlocalbeaner5 @profoundruinsunknown @lovesuhng @moryymor @haechanmybaechan @mmjhh1998 @cottonjaems @darumdarimdaa @hyucksnctzen @cherryynoir @haechanahceah67 @cigarettesafterjae @eternoange1 @yananluvclub @doubledoie @t-102 @nosungluv @aracy @haesluvr @charlunaotte @hyuksworld @maarslvr

[cheyisagirlkisser]

a concept : abby's first time with a woman. maybe her first partnered orgasm too cause we all know owen ain't shit lol.

i'm so in love with this request. @powderpinkandsweeet did this concept too and it was delicious please go read hers here!!

warnings: owen.. fingering (a! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), afab / fem reader, body worship because Abby deserves it.

a/n: I wrote Abby to be mostly bisexual in this fic, but you can interpret her feelings for men as possibly comphet or something similar. Either way, it's clear she discovers her preference for women.

Sex means a variety of things to people. In Abby's life, sex with men was mostly about love. She did feel attraction to men and she had relationships with them, last one being her ex-boyfriend Owen. It was never about the pleasure itself. Sure, there were moments when she felt physically nice during sex, but it didn't last. She was only halfway there by the time Owen was coming down from his orgasm. He didn't offer to finish her off, and aftercare was the sound of his breathless laughter accompanied by a "thanks, babe."

Abby didn't ever judge her friends who liked to have sex for less emotional reasons. At least, she didn't think there was much emotion behind it. Abby just knew more about sex within relationships. The fact that men were incapable of actually making her cum was overshadowed by feelings. Things changed when she caught a glimpse of Mel's contact in Owen's phone, though. Things changed for the better.

You were much different than Owen in ways that Abby could not grapple with. First of all, you weren't a man. Abby never really considered women as an option for her (though she had lingering thoughts about what it would be like to be with one), but seeing you at a small party, you being a friend of a friend, she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea of being involved with one.

Conversations led to observations. Whereas Owen was condescendingly sarcastic, you liked to be gentle with Abby. You never said a joke that made Abby feel bad about being a stronger woman; in fact, you told her you liked her physique. You asked about her workout routine, and you made her feel feminine. That was simply something Owen could not do. Owen was also a blind optimist. He turned away from issues in the pursuit of "ignorance is bliss." With you, it felt like you articulated your views in a way that made her question her own, even. You were clearly a thoughtful person, and you took time to educate yourself about human rights, something that should be the bare minimum but clearly Owen lacked education on. Abby could never talk to him about topics like feminist issues like she was able to with you. And lastly, a more physical observation, you made her realize that actually feeling pleasure during sex can make the sex 100 times more emotional.

You took her home with you the night you met. Abby told you about the break-up and how she was still processing it, and you didn't expect anything more from her than what she was comfortable giving. But fuck, the sex made her feel things. How was she ever supposed to feel this way with anyone else?

You had her laid on your bed, and you only kissed her for a little while. Even your kisses were like sugar, and Abby wanted so much more. Every moment of contact your lips made with hers reminded her of an artist's brushstroke onto a canvas, painting over it a masterpiece that simply cannot be undone.

Your fingers traced over her sides, heightening the pants she spills from her lips, and increasing a neediness deep within her that feels like pressure building up in a small space, needing to be let go. She was a little worried that you'd get her all worked up and not make her cum.

You noticed the way she retracted ever so slightly, and cupped her face. "Hey, what's wrong?" You asked so softly, patiently.

Abby swallowed, struggling to articulate her own feelings. She wasn't used to even speaking during sex. It never lasted long enough for her to be able to.

"We can stop if you want to." You offer, giving her a reassuring smile. Your thumb caressed her cheek, and it gave both a red warmth.

"No, it's not that-" she sighed, almost feeling annoyed with herself for making things awkward, "I just got really worked up, I guess. I've never..done this with another woman before, and men are probably different."

You nodded knowingly. "Do you want me to take care of you?"

Abby didn't know exactly what that entailed, but something in her had a pre-established trust for you, just knew that you'd stop if she needed you to. It made her want you even more.

After both of you had enough touchy-feely, Abby helped you pull her shirt and sports bra off. You admired each freckle-plastered inch of her body, from the peak of her nipples to her firm biceps. You took your time with her, and she loved it.

You used your hands first, your soft skin meeting hers. You trailed fingers over her arms, squeezing. Abby let out a soft sigh, and you took that as encouragement to lean in and plant adoration-filled kisses onto the muscle. "You're so pretty." The words were slightly muffled with your mouth on her skin, but she surely heard. It made her pulse beat faster.

You simply touched her for a while, at first warming her up and kissing her skin, mouth becoming steadily more explicit. When your mouth gently latched onto one of Abby's nipples, she couldn't keep herself from making a needy sound. Your tongue swirled over the pink bud, and Abby melted back into the bed.

Not longer after, you weren't surprised to find a pair of soaked panties worn by yours truly. Abby was laid out on your bed, legs parted for you. She was a little embarrassed that you had her so needy before even touching her.

"Fuck," is all she could manage when she felt a warm finger spread her folds open, sliding up to massage her clit.

"You like that, baby?"

"God, yes-" she breathlessly let out, trying not to completely lose it.

The way you touched her was much different from how Owen did. When he (rarely) used his fingers on her, it felt like he was trying to stab her vagina. He couldn't find a clit if it was bright red and glowing. You, however, both teased her and lavished attention on where her body knew it needed it. Your finger teased her hole before slightly stretching it, earning soft sounds from Abby.

You kissed over the firm muscles on her arms as you fucked her, careful to slip another finger into her and give her a good stretch. Abby was incoherent and so messy that her neediness was soaking your knuckles, trickling down your hand. You didn't complain or joke about it, even letting out sweet, approving hums onto her skin.

Your fingers didn't drill in and out of her like a screwdriver, much like Owen's, but rather plunging within her to press into her g-spot and curling upward. You kept your thumb on her clit, making sure she had that extra stimulation.

"Do you like it?" You asked, eyes peering up to meet hazy pair.

Abby eagerly nodded, not trusting herself to speak a sensical sentence. You smiled and carefully shifted to kiss her. This time, it wasn't as soft, rather sloppy but it was exactly what Abby needed. Everything you did made her head spin. You had her tongue between your lips, sucking on it and occasionally letting her invade your mouth and taste the sweetness of whatever was once there. Just the soft little nibbles you gave her bottom lip made her moan, a sound that would've been much louder if not swallowed by your mouth.

Best part was, you knew how to multi-task. The desperation she felt was slowly fed with the steady pace of your hand working on her pussy, and your lips made her feel what she didn't understand before: you made her realize that the physical part of sex, the part that she didn't quite like to explore with men, could be just as important as the romantic aspect.

You found a pace that Abby particularly liked, causing her to whine and tangle her fingers into the sheets.

"Fuck, right here. I'm gonna cum." She pleaded, as if so desperate to get to cum. She wanted it so badly, and it only made you more needy to give it to her.

"Yeah? You wanna cum all over my fingers for me?" You cooed, lips brushing against hers. Your short breath sent warmth onto her lips, and she wanted to always feel it. It sent heat throughout her.

"I wanna cum for you!!" Her moans were louder, but you didn't shush her. You instead leaned down to kiss her, fingers pumping into her pussy, thumb rubbing circles down onto her clit.

She felt the final seconds of chasing her orgasm, hips lifting to meet your hand, and she thanked a higher power that you weren't a man who was giving her sloppy thrusts that would never get her over the edge.

You made her feel like she was on cloud nine. She probably cried out your name a couple dozen times, grasped onto your face to kiss your lips just to feel that connection as you fucked her. She never expected to feel such emotion during an orgasm, never was she able to feel this way during masturbation or with guys. It was all because of you that her pussy was sloppy and leaking onto your sheets, making a mess.

When she came down, you let her catch her breath, soothing her with kisses on her shoulders and allowing your cheek to rest on her chest. You listened to her heartbeat, waiting for it to grow steady.

Abby felt content and safe with you, but something was still nagging her. You made her cum, but she hadn't made an effort to touch you yet. She didn't ever want to make you feel the way that Owen made her feel.

She hesitantly but gently tapped your upper back, and you sat up.

"Are you okay?" You asked with a moderate amount of concern present, wanting to make sure you didn't do anything wrong.

"Of course, but..I wanna touch you. If that's okay."

You nodded. "Have you ever touched a woman before? At all?"

Abby shook her head, cheeks a little red. She was a bit nervous, but her eagerness made up for it. You didn't seem hesitant in letting her touch you, and that made her feel more confident.

"I've honestly always wondered what it'd be like to like, go down on a girl." Abby admitted with a sheepish laugh.

You smiled and began to strip, your tank-top and bra leaving your body first. For the first time, Abby felt truly overwhelmed with seeing someone naked. You looked so soft and touchable, and she found herself wondering how you'd taste, feel, and sound like when she made you feel good. She hoped she could make you feel good.

You laid down next to where she was previously laying, and Abby situated herself in front of you. You parted your thighs, and she sworn she felt herself drooling from the sight of your glistening pussy, begging to be eaten like a savory meal.

Abby found it most comfortable to lay on her stomach, face between your legs. She wanted to make you feel appreciated (and she loved your thighs), so she planted kisses along your thighs, frequently peeking up to make sure you were comfortable. When her mouth was near your pussy, she paused.

"Can you guide me? Sorry, I know it's awkward as hell, but I have no clue how to do this and I want to make it nice for you." She could hear the shakiness in her own voice, making her slightly cringe.

Abby felt one of your hands stroke through her hair, fingers carding through the blonde. "Just do what you think would feel good, you know? You're a woman, so try to imagine it on you. I'll tell you what feels good and what doesn't." Abby let herself imagine it for a moment and nodded, knowing that the best way to learn is to just practice and listen to your moans and what you tell her you don't want.

She gave herself a second to calm her nerves, and gave an experimental lick to your clit. You made a soft sound, encouraging more.

As Abby worked, she knew she wasn't physically skilled at this, at least not yet. However, she was enthusiastic about it. She tried to make up for the lack of experience as best she could. Thankfully, you also tugged her head closer and ground your pussy against her mouth, making it easier for you to feel pleasure while she figured out what worked well for you. You seemed to like when she slipped her tongue into you and worked at your clit with her nose, your moans less steady and increasingly broken as she tasted your gummy walls.

She found that to get you to your orgasm, it took much longer than it took Owen. She enjoyed that more than she'd expected to, savoring being able to just taste you. She craved feeling the way your hips stuttered when she gave your clit a firm lick, or hear you cry out when you finally got close to an orgasm.

Abby initially didn't know whether to speed up or continue, but the rhythm of your hips helped guide her until she finally had you cumming on her tongue. You were pretty with your eyes half-lidded and brows knit tightly together, thighs pressing against her face, it made her want to just take a mental snapshot of this moment and keep it with her forever. She didn't know what she loved more, the process of eating pussy or the aftermath.

When you were stable again, Abby moved to mimic your previous action, letting her ear press against your heartbeat. You had to stifle a giggle at how cute it was, but you were probably too out of breath to even get a steady laugh out. She didn't leave sexual, sloppy kisses onto your tits, but rather gentle, loving pecks.

Abby didn't know when exactly she fell asleep, but she woke up with her chest pressed against your back, cuddling you tightly against her. It was probably early in the morning, and her body was still a bit sore, but she smiled and planted a kiss onto the back of your neck, holding your bare form close to hers as she drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

[thegirlinthetardisat221b]

I also used to work in a library in the uk and this!!

But we also wouldnt do anything to your account unless you owed us over ten pounds. So like you could lose a book from us and still be able to take books out, there would just be a note on your account saying that you owe something. But we would never call you out on it.

I legit made a teacher cry once because there was a child with special needs and he was like 'you wont see the book again if he takes it out so as a school we wont let him' and I looked him dead in the eye and said 'I would rather he never bring it back but have a book at home and not feel isolated when everyone else is getting one'

And that is what libraries are about

They are places where there should be no judgement. Like at all.

They are a safe place with internet and social groups and staff who can help you with whatever you need

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁⋆°𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼°⋆꧂

Specifically the men :>

Characters: player 001 (in-ho), player 230 (thanos), and player 124 (nam gyu)

Warnings: squid game shit, gn reader, includes general head canons and relationship ones. Some are more toxic than others…. This is also to help understand the characterization I use for the characters in other fics lol

ᎮᏝᏗᎩᏋᏒ 001

- I have few appropriate things to say

- first off, we all know this man has money and thus I feel like he would have a large car collection that he just doesn’t get around to driving

- rarely able to get drunk. Not that he can drink, it just takes a lot to get drunk

- manipulative without even trying. Though he knows danm well what he’s doing it’s effortless for him.

- has no empathy. Or it’s complicated, he has empathy but it’s conditional. He can seem like cares but chances are it won’t last long, and wasn’t very genuine in the first place

- this is random but I think he is a morning person. Not just a normal morning person, a 4 am wake up person. A time he will likely not be bothered, a time he can take his time. Think about all the things he has to do. The planning, the hiding. He finally gets real time to think.

- CLEARLY obsessive. He be staring at gi hun like he want that cookie so damm bad. Season two squid game was built for him practically by in-ho. meticulously. 

- safe to say once he wants something he gets it.

- unfortunately he obviously sees the poor as less than. I think it would take a nearly impossible life changing event for that to change.

Relationship wise:

-evil.

- let’s be so real here, he is not the best choice. Very attractive and silly, but terrible as a person

- he says himself he knows he’s a likable fellow, he’s willing to use that. To worm his way right into your heart. Make you think “wow, how charming” or “man, he’s so kind”. He knows how to use his seemingly harmless nature to root himself in your mind

- will buy you anything. One of his ways of manipulating you. He will yell at you, prioritize his “work” over you, scare you… just to make it up by a luxurious trip where he is finally nice to you. And you think “maybe he’s changed. I’ll give him another chance”

- you don’t even realize how many times you’ve said that.

- it’s not like you have a choice to leave anyway. He’s possessive. If you were to leave him, he wouldn’t let you. If you manage to get away he’s finding you and dragging you back. He will have you until he can’t anymore, you do not have much of a say. He’s woven himself deeply in your life.

- has his people watch out for you and protect you. Has people Solve problems for you before you recognize there is one. And you never even know

- let’s you sit on his lap while he watches the games.

- you have no friends, rarely talk to family, your life is basically his. And you have to be okay with that (or not)

- all his workers know you and you have full access to whatever you like (as long as it’s not interfering or messing up anything he has planned

-he work would probably come before you. Not to say he doesn’t care…. Just he has weird priorities

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 230

- my dear thanos. Where do I begin

- clearly he has a drug problem. Serious pill addiction.

- goes into public absolutely GEEKIN off who knows what and insists no one can tell (they can)

- tried to be a plug but kept arguing abt prices with his clients so they stopped buying…

- as a famous rapper you know he has bitch AND hoes. A player who leaves a trail of broken hearts. Women and men bc I say so

- and also he just gives that vibe

- can’t manage money. Even when he wasn’t in debt bro cannot keep his dabloons in line. Drugs don’t help with that

- physically pretty strong. He can fight but it’s not like he’s gonna win every time

- actually really passionate about music. It truly means a lot to him and he worked for it. However over years he’s gotten frustrated with never having true privacy as a non celebrity would

Relationship wise:

- contrary to how I see people write him I personally think he wouldn’t be as mean in a relationship as some of the others

-and I think he would actually value you.

- I think he’d be pretty respectful with the ladies. He clearly appreciates a pretty girl.

- respectful might be a stretch. I mean verbally he wouldn’t like say crazy vulgar things. Nah he’d call you “flower” like that one girl or something

- he might be a bit rougher with the fellas out there. He’s pretty handy with his “bros” I’ll tell you that much.

- would write songs for and about you. They’d be cringe… in a nice way. Stupidest title and lyrics but hey! He made it just for you :3

- pre debt he’d definitely spoil you. Post losing all his money you’ll have to compromise. He sucks at telling you no so if you ask for something he might just steal it.

- people try to say he’d try to keep you from his drugs. I don’t think so. Realistically you’d probably end up doing some illegal substances with him

- might cheat in the early stages. Let’s be real. Those famous boys are almost never loyal. Butttt I think after he wouldn’t. Threaten to leave and he will see he really needs you

- never said he was perfect <3

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 124

- MY SHAYLAAAA. Idc so many ppl hate him. I know, he’s objectively terrible. However I don’t care I think he’s silly so there

- another addict. Honestly heavier than thanos. He’s tried nearly everything under the sun. However as shown in show, herion is his vice.

- he’s a shady night club worker so I’d say he could probably fight.

- I see him as an introvert 90% of the time u til he’s around a close friend. He seems like he has some sort of manners and keeps to himself until he met thanos. And even then he didn’t really talk (nicely) to anyone else besides min-su (sometimes)

- can clock a bitch like no other. Will read you to filth. Be prepared to gain new insecurities around him

- seems like a cat guy. I feel it in my soul he pets every stray cat ever.

- has jitters. Be it he’s anxious, thinking, happy, or withdrawling his hands are constantly on the move.

- laughs at nothing. Do not do anything amusing in the area if something even slightly serious is happening. He’s ruining the mood and will not stop giggling abt it after.

- he does the sweater paws. Not a head canon just a viable fact but it needs to be said. Yes I know he’s a grown man with a dick and balls but it’s very baby girl of him

- has quite the violent streak. Was probably the worst bully in highschool. I can smell the semester suspension radiating from him

- would do probably anything for some drugs. Like anything. He’s seen and done some shit.

Relationship wise

- MY SHAYLAAAA

-evil lowkey

- he’s definitely difficult because he’s always on some H and it actually can make you more aggressive.

- still cares though I swear it’s just harder for him

- touchy asf. Constantly playing with your hands, poking your face, touching your hair. Bro MUST touch.

- possessive and jealous type. Will lash out about it. Or just start being mean to the people you talk to.

- kinda about that life. Because he’s in the night club scene he has definitely witnessed some real gang shit. Maybe even participated

- will protect you if you’re walking out in the street.

- has moments at night where he’s genuinely calm and able to talk about normal things. Not worried about work, scared about money, itching from drugs. Just him and you.

- you’re his safe area. Shit goes wrong he comes to you. He had a bad day? He’s coming to you. Bad trip? He’s with you.

- will care for you if you are going through a bad trip too. Or just scared, he gets it.

- kinda toxic sorry not sorry

- clearly a selfish guy, wants what he wants and tries to take it. He manipulates with saying cruel things with an angles smile. Might yell at you, lash out, etc. probably wouldn’t hit you though

- but he cares. In his weird, clingy, mean for no reason but doesn’t mean it way. He will stick with you. You both will yell and scream and cry at each other but at the end of every day you lay in each others arms. Very much a “us against the world” type relationship.

Yeah that’s all. This should help elaborate on future things I will write mwah ha ha.

[beargregor]

wait i'm curious, what makes you say that gregor doesn't like everyone else (if i read that post right)? just curious since i've never seen anyone else say that

i don't necessarily think gregor dislikes everyone else at lcb but i do think that gregor is an incredibly petty person that isn't nearly as close to the rest of the sinners and even outright dislikes some of them cough cough rodya cough cough which a lot of people just Refuse to see because he's as much of a doormat as he is. there's several examples i could get into to try and prove my point however i'll just focus on what i personally think to be the biggest ones.

additionally, this is going to be kind of long, so i'm adding a read more. read more! read it. sorry for being so wordy. i have several diseases.

Pt1. gregor is the type to try and get along at least decently with everyone, especially if he gets a good first impression from them.

this is less a point in favor of gregor's distance w/ the rest of the sinners and more just a contributing factor to it. once again there's several examples i could point to here but i think the most in your face one happened in canto I with yuri, as several people have pointed out. even before gregor comes clean about growing attached to her as quickly as he did because she reminds him of his sister, we get this interaction.

i'll go ahead and make the disclaimer now that i don't necessarily think gregor is the most reliable of narrators, especially when it comes to his feelings and interactions with most people, but from the way he acts when the topic of yuri comes up (and the way we still see him act even all the way up to c7, nearly a whole year after yuri's death) i don't see reason to question his sentiment here. gregor immediately got that aya and yuri were close, potentially even taking note of their traded belts, and went out of his way to get something nice for yuri despite hardly knowing her.

i feel like a lot of people have forgotten as much, especially since it's been so long since c1, but gregor actually spent a good bit of season 1 doing the exact same thing with the other sinners! gregor reads a connection between him and ishmael pretty quickly despite getting off to a rocky start

mostly because gregor can tell that ishmael is pretty sardonic in a very similar way to him. there's been multiple instances where ishmael and gregor have essentially expressed the same sentiment at different moments, most notably gregor's little argument after ishmael got shot with a decay ampule in c4

and ishmael's response to pilot talking about self-sacrifice in c5

i could go ahead and pull up more examples, but in general pm has gone out of their way to show us that gregor and ishmael are pretty similar, so it makes sense for gregor to assume that they're friends, right?

this will be pushpin 1. keep note of this for Later.

ishmael's only the first sinner we see gregor trying to do this with in s1, we also see him try it out with heathcliff, sinclair, and ryoushuu

he's tried to get along with charon, being one of very few sinners that we've seen actually try to establish a connection with her at all

even rodya, despite my insistence that gregor doesn't like her nearly as much as the fandom thinks he does

all of these seem pretty fine and dandy, right? sure it frequently leans towards self-degradation, micromanaging, and commiseration, but gregor can at least be pretty chummy with most of the sinners, can't he?

Pt2. hell's chicken was more than just comic relief guys please

i'm fully aware that this is quite the hot take, but i think hell's chicken deserves a lot more credit for character writing than the fandom gives it. hell's chicken gave us foreshadowing for several events, such as the donqui bloodfiend reveal

heathcliff's distortion in c6 (as well as hong lu's highly speculated distortion at some point in the future)

and ryoushuu and sinclair's continued connection by making him the odd one out on her team

which, hey! that implies something about gregor's odd one out, don quixote, too, doesn't it? yes. yes it does. that's pushpin 2. keep note of that for later.

speaking of pushpins, hey! that's pushpin 1!

splitting into teams is one of the major events in hell's chicken, and most of the sinner's choices are either motivated by very little, backhanded, or motivated primarily by not wanting to be on the opposite leader's side. i didn't include all of the picks, just because i feel like including most of them already gets this across, but i think gregor took one major thing from this: most of the sinners, when push comes to shove, will only side with gregor when they refuse to or can't take his opponent's side.

now, don't get me wrong, i'm fully aware that this is primarily intended to be comedic relief, but when gregor is being described as having his trust broken by ishmael or nearly crying because no one on his team properly sided with him for him, i feel like it's pretty fair to read into this.

something that i think is pretty important to remember in conjunction with this is that we know that gregor is the type to hold a grudge, both from his general attitude towards the G corp soldiers in c1 as well as his continued distaste for vergilius

even beyond the splitting into teams of hell's chicken, the sinners have given gregor plenty of reasons to feel bitter. i feel like this is something people have noticed but haven't really put a finger on, but it's kind of wild just how often the rest of the sinners make gregor the butt of the joke

and sure, we could argue that a fair few of these aren't really made with any ill intent. quite a bit of it could have been meant as harmless teasing, but with gregor being more sensitive than most, it coming from nearly all sides, and as often as it does? yeah, i think he's prone to taking it a bit personally.

Pt3. yes i do still think gregor was the third most important character in canto VII you guys gotta hear me out okay

of course, all of this leads up to the bit of the story i highlighted, doesn't it? c7? i totally get why people haven't really picked up on all the gregor things i did in it, seeing as they were mostly not *directly* said about him or by him.

personally, i think that gregor's distaste for talking about himself on any serious level and thus leading to him getting sort of "sidelined" narratively (which i take issue with that claim, but still. it's effective for getting what i mean across atm) is supposed to lead players to take a deeper look at the times gregor gets held up to other characters and compare and contrast what's being said about them by the matchup. as i showed earlier with his immediate latching onto ishmael, i think this is something gregor himself is at least partially aware of too.

so, that begs the question, who was gregor compared to in canto VII that makes me think it's one of the most critical pieces in understanding his character?

really, i'd like to avoid getting too lost in the analysis of this canto specifically, since i'd like to do a proper post about this later, but i figure i can bury the lede a little before doing it properly.

c7 features several characters being made to perform in sansón's play, acting out the relevant backstory for this segment of the plot. a lot of these characters have rather direct, degrading reasons for playing the roles they do.

outis, a character with an inflated ego who wants her journey to have a purpose, is made to play an aimlessly wandering villager with a single line.

hong lu and ryoushuu, two characters for whom families and the expectations placed upon them are likely going to play a major role, are made to play bloodfiends.

rodya, a character who resents her lot in life and is constantly shown to be eager to leave her destitution behind her and become someone special, is made to play a helpless villager that's too poor to even offer any money to the hero that saves her.

heathcliff, a character that has spent most of his life getting dehumanized by comparing him to beastly animals, is made to play a literal bear whose sole purpose in the plot is to get beat up and then quickly left by the wayside.

sinclair, a character that has two opposed parties essentially treating him as a macguffin to procure for their side, is made to play the character who was arguably the catalyst for this entire canto, not to mention playing a decently major role in ruina.

our star don quixote is made to play her father, the first kindred, but there's someone by their side the entire time, isn't there? don quixote's dear, steadfastly loyal companion. a character which don quixote has tasked themself with getting to come out of their shell?

hello again, pushpin 2.

gregor has been made to play our unreachable star, sancho. someone had to, of course. you can't really tell a story without it's main character, now can you?

now, i should once again give a disclaimer. i am not trying to say that i think adapting what happens to donqui/sancho in c7 to gregor is the road pm is going to take here, not only would that toe a bit past the line of foreshadowing, but it'd also just amount to rehashing that plotline again, which i don't think would make for a particularly exciting story.

what i DO think is that we can take a lot of the things that are said to either directly be the case for sancho and use them to inform how we see gregor.

and god, does playing sancho have some fucking implications for our favorite ossan archetype.

starting off, the earliest moment we get to see of sancho is quite literally her just waiting for death to take her in a pile of ashes.

which, i should remind everyone, is actually pretty damn close to what happens to gregor's literary counterpart at the end of the metamorphosis. gregor samsa experiences one final breaking point that pushes him over the edge and makes him decide to just wait for starvation to take him.

gregor and sancho both consider themselves to no longer be human, something which sancho goes out of her way to highlight repeatedly throughout the canto and gregor is quick to get defensive on her behalf for when outis starts really tearing into her

sancho spends quite a lot of this story denying herself the joys of community and friendship, despite knowing that, even with the rest of the sinners frequently making jokes at her expense and outright insulting her, they were things that she desperately craved.

and, while this is getting into my "outis is a red herring meant to distract us from gregor's eventual betrayal" theorizing, i also think it's worth noting for this discussion that sancho's fellow kindreds, her family, all seem to be under the impression that she dislikes them and ultimately her departure was an act of betrayal

and that, despite gregor being one of LCB's resident mood makers and attempted conflict de-escalators, one of the sinners that's most prone to making appeals to the bonds they've all forged together, only him and faust remained silent during everyone's speech

so yeah, i think there's quite a lot of little details and hints building up to the reveal that gregor's not quite as fond of everyone as he presents himself to be. i do think a lot of this ultimately comes down to gregor getting in the way of his own happiness, similarly to donqui, particularly because he's been frequently portrayed as something of a self fulfilling prophecy, especially by giving him as many christ allegories as they have by way of priest and garden of thorns. gregor is convinced that the rest of the sinners don't like him because he's not convinced anyone could like him, so he convinces himself that he hates them because why should he care if someone that he hates hates him too?

a lot of this ultimately ties back to my personal interpretation of what happens in the metamorphosis as well as my own theories regarding all the times gregor has made weird callbacks and references to lobcorp and ruina, but yeah. i think about this guy and his deeper characterization a fairly normal amount, i think.

to end this off i'll highlight one of my favorite little "gregor is fucking seething and trying so hard to keep it cool" moments, in the credits CG for c7 we see rodya teasing him by drawing a little horse on his window and actively pointing and laughing at it, which gregor really doesn't seem all too pleased about.

i personally think this ties into the other cruel part of sansón forcing gregor to play rocinante, which is the more literal "he's actually just straight up playing rocinante" side of things. gregor was quite literally made to play something less than human, less than even animal really, as he was reduced to nothing more than the shoes don quixote wore as she got to play the leading role. sansón directly makes jokes about gregor being nothing more than shoes in the play twice, which adds to this reading, i think.

this, imo, really plays into the adaptation of the metamorphosis! i've seen a lot of readings for the book that posit that, despite being the protagonist, gregor samsa can't really be considered the main character due to nearly everything he experiences in it being used to further his family's character development at his expense, which i think fits nicely with limbus gregor seemingly having the most said about him through indirect means by holding him up to other characters. also it's rodya carelessly making fun of His Big Major Insecurities™ again like she did in c1 which i always find fun. rodya i love you but god you're the worst.