#I don’t want to talk about how long it took me to translate the English into Trollish

[karmathehalflander]

Jim did something reckless and Blinky got so mad the English language wasn’t enough. Jim is confused and concerned.

English translation of the trollish because I won’t make you do all that:

By Deya’s grace you could have been killed! Of all the stupid, reckless, irresponsible things to do! Don’t you ever run off like that again!  Actually you’re grounded! I’m not letting you out of my sight!  You are in so much trouble I can’t even-

[micer2012]

a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism

Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.

My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)

This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)

And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.

And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand. 

In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.

That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with, 

“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”

I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.

I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!). 

Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.

If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading! 

Sincerely, a tumblr user.

[adrienneleclerc]

hii i love your fics so much! i was wondering if you could do a latina!reader x charles fic were reader is asking charles juicy questions fans sent in or him guessing female products? i hope this make sense ❤️

I think I get it. I’m going to make Y/N like Kika, she has a heavy social media presence but is also a model.

Grill the Boyfriend

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Latina!Reader

Summary: Charles fans have questions and Y/N will give them the answers

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, a few +18 questions

A/N: sorry it took me so long, this was written on my phone

Y/N was setting up the camera and ring light in the living room so her new video would turn out well.

“Muñeco, are you ready?” Y/N asked,

“I’m coming!” Charles called out from his room before coming into the living room with a black shirt and gray sweatpants. “Do we have to film this today?”

“We don’t have to, but I want to get it out of the way.” Y/N said. Both sat down on the couch and Y/N clicked a button so it could record. “Hola, mis amores, if you’re new here, my name is Y/N and welcome to a new video. Today we are here with my boyfriend, the beautiful monegasque man who’s face card never declines, Scuderia Ferrari F1 driver Charles Leclerc.”

“Hello, everyone.” Charles waves hi to the camera.

“So all of you have sent me your questions on Instagram, and today we are going to be asking them, how are you feeling, muñeco?” Y/N asked.

“A little nervous.” Charles said

“We will start with an easy question, who is your celebrity crush?” Y/N asked.

“You are.” Charles said.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Mine is (your celebrity crush) actually.” Y/N said and Charles was offended.

“That’s how you want to play it? I change my answer, my celebrity crush is Camila Morrone.” Charles said.

“Oh my gosh, Charles, she’s my friend, you are never beating the homie hopper allegations now.” Y/N said and shook his head.

“Next question, please, before you give me a migraine.” Charles said.

“Very well, what is your favorite Måneskin song?” Y/N asked.

“Mm, i like zitti e buoni, mamma mia is very good too. Zitti e buoni is my favorite.” Charles said.

“Of course it is, there are so many edits of you to that song. I like supermodel and baby said, which is also used in your edits.” Y/N said.

“You watch edits of me, Mon coeur?” Charles asked.

“Next question!” Y/N exclaimed and Charles laughed at her abruptness. “Besides wiener dogs, what is your favorite breed?”

“I like all dogs honestly, I don’t have a favorite breed, but I always wanted a golden retriever.” Charles said

“That’s because you are a golden retriever boyfriend. I always wanted a Saint Bernard.” Y/N said.

“That’s because you loved Beethoven as a kid.” Charles said.

“I still love Beethoven, such a cute movie. Anyway, next question, if we broke up, would you try to date one of my friends?” Y/N asked and Charles covered his face.

“No I wouldn’t, all of your friends are in the states.” Charles said.

“So if one of them came here, would you go out with her if we broke up?” Y/N asked.

“Of course not! I would be trying to win you back.” Charles said.

“Okay then, do you think the car has gotten worse since Monaco?” Y/N asked. Charles paused for a moment

“Legally I can’t confirm or deny that statement. I think there are strategies that the team are implementing that only work in theory but not in practice and that��s causing poor results in races.” Charles said

“What a diplomatic answer, Mr. Leclerc. Based on your recent grill the grid video, have you ever thought about standing me up when we were first talking?” Y/N asked.

“No I did not think about standing you up at all.” Charles said.

“Más te vale, eh. Okay, this question is in Spanish, has pensado en tener una fiesta de despedida para Carlitos? Have you thought about throwing a goodbye party for Carlos since it’s his last Ferrari season?” Y/N translated the question to English.

“Yes, at the Ferrari garage, we’ve already started planning.” Charles answered

“Si, en el garaje de Ferrari, ya están planeando todo para Carlitos.” Y/N translated in Spanish. “Next question, do you like my cooking?”

“There’s no way they asked that.” Charles stated but Y/N showed him the Instagram inbox with the questions. “Does Charles like your cooking” Charles read. “I do like her cooking, she tries to make her cultural dishes fit into my diet and I appreciate that.”

“Thank you, muñeco.” Y/N kissed him. “What is your favorite sex position?”

“Why?” Charles asked facing Y/N. “Why do you need to know?” Charles asked facing the camera.

“They’ve asked this multiple times, the world wants to know.” Y/N said.

“Fine, I like Cowgirl, I like it when she rides me, I also like reverse cowgirl and doggy because I like seeing Y/N’s tattoo of my driver number.” Charles explained in detail and Y/N covered her face.

“Like Haley from One Tree Hill, anyway, what is one of your kinks?” Y/N asked.

“I like choking, hair pulling, being called sir.” Charles said.

“There will be no demonstrations. Craziest place you had sex?” Y/N asked.

“On the yacht.” Charles answered easily.

“I find it concerning how comfortable you are answering these types of questions.” Y/N commented. “Moving on, have you ever thought about marriage?”

“I have thought about getting married someday, having a family, 3 children like my mom did, a nice family dog.” Charles said.

“I’ve also thought about it, I think most women have Pinterest boards of wedding dresses, rings, centerpieces, shit like that.” Y/N commented. “Have you thought about moving away from Monaco?”

“I like Monaco, my family is here, I don’t think I can love somewhere else.” Charles said.

“Have you ever read fanfics about yourself?” Y/N asked.

“Im sorry, what?” Charles asked.

“Fan fiction, have you ever read fan fiction about yourself?” Y/N asked again.

“No I haven’t, but I admire the creativity all of you have.” Charles said.

“I have read fanfics about you.” Y/N admitted to Charles. “They are really well written on tumblr, you know.”

“Why read about me when you have the real thing, Mon coeur?” Charles asked

“Because I have trouble sleeping and I need something to read.” Y/N said. A few questions later, we are in the last question. “Are you excited for Lewis to join Ferrari?”

“Of course I am! We have talked a lot off the track, we are very good friends, I can’t wait for him to join Ferrari.” Charles said.

“And that’s it for this video, hope y’all liked it, make sure to like, comment, and subscribe. For more content, follow me on TikTok and Instagram, besitos.” Y/N said and stopped the recording. “Perfect! I just need to edit it and I can post it later. Thank you for being a good sport, muñeco.” Y/N said, kissing Charles.

“Of course, Mon coeur, anything for you. Now what were you saying about someone else being your celebrity crush?” Charles asked.

“Well they are my celebrity crush, you were my celebrity crush but now I’m dating you.” Y/N said. “You really think about marriage and having a family?”

“Whenever I picture myself having a family, you are right there.” Charles said, they shared a loving kiss. “You want to head out in the yacht today?”

“I would love to.” Y/N said.

The End

hope y’all liked it!

[loganhowlettshousewife]

the librarian

logan howlett x latina!reader

summary: after the events of logan (2017), in a world where logan survives, he and laura move to a small town to start a new life. laura quickly becomes very attached to the librarian, and seeing you with his daughter makes logan fall hard.

warnings: swearing, insecurity on logan's part, potentially slightly out of character but i’m choosing to believe that logan softens up a bit after laura

this is the longest oneshot i've ever written so please be kind because it took a lot of time. my first language is not english, so please do not be rude when offering feedback. i am also not latina, so feel free to offer constructive criticism if you notice anything wrong in the fic.

special thank you to @raeinyourdreams for the spanish dialogue.

series masterlist - my masterlist

you love your job. the library is quiet, peaceful, and you spend every day surrounded by your favourite thing: books. those who come to the library are typically kind, hardly do you have to deal with rude comments or entitled behaviour. you get to plan fun events for the towns kids and toddlers to introduce them to the joys of reading. and on every school day, between 3:00 and 4:00 pm, you get to see laura howlett.

the first time she came into the library, it wasn’t planned. you live in a small town, with an even smaller school, and when laura’s dad failed to show up on time to pick her up, she was sent over to the library next door. she’d stomped through the automatic doors, her small frame tense with irritation, her jaw clenched, slamming her bag down on the ground beside her as she sat down at one of the small circular tables set up in a corner of the small building.

she crossed her arms and stared at the door as if her dad might finally show up if she thought about it hard enough, never sparing you a second glance. so you’d left her alone to stew in her rage, putting away books from the return pile, glancing at the clock every few minutes.

you couldn’t hide your staring when her (extremely attractive) dad finally showed up, heavy footfalls crossing the doorstep and thick, tanned biceps filling your vision. laura cursed at him in rapid spanish, and he grumbled that he didn’t understand a word she was saying. you giggled to yourself at the thought that you never would have gotten away with using such language at her age.

the next time you saw her was a week later, and this time, despite her heavy glare and intense ‘don’t talk to me’ attitude, you approached her. her gaze was suspicious and distrusting as you spoke, asking her in your native tongue if she wanted a book to read while she waited. she’d stared at you for a long minute before saying, “¿hablas español?”

she slowly opened up to you after that, like a flower blossoming in the springtime, short sentences turning into longer rants, into admittance of her inner thoughts and worries and struggles. you give her book recommendations that are popular within her age group and help her with her homework when she struggles with the material, translating words she doesn't understand perfectly. in return, she tells you about her school and home life, about how she’d moved here with her dad, about how she’s only really known him a few months.

you don’t know her past, only the glimpses she’s given you here and there, anecdotes she drops into conversations before changing the subject just as quickly, but you know that she’s struggled with adjusting to all the changes in her life. you’re grateful that she’s allowed you such insight into her mind, that you can help her even in small ways. you can’t help it - she’s wormed her way into your heart, with her quick quips and short temper and snide comments.

“¿crees que mi papá es guapo?” she asks you suddenly. it’s an evening like any other, the two of you working through her science homework together. you choke on your saliva as an image of logan howlett flashes through your mind, his stern face and the hard intensity of his eyes, his large stature and broad back that you always watch, entranced, when he walks out of the library with laura in tow.

“¿por qué preguntas?” you ask her instead of answering as you erase a mistake on her paper, blowing away the leftover scraps the eraser leaves behind.

“las mamás de thea estaban hablando de lo guapo que es.” laura replies, a grimace twisting her face. her eyes narrow as she observes your carefully blank expression. “¿tu opinas igual?”

you shake your head, clacking your tongue against your teeth, “mejor concéntrate en tu tarea.”

the howletts live two houses down from you, on a street of mismatched suburban houses and carefully manicured lawns. sometimes you’ll see logan outside, smoking a cigar on the porch in a thin wife-beater that shows off his large arms, watchful gaze observing the neighbourhood as though surveying the area for potential threats. 

he seems oblivious to the stares he receives from both women and men passing by, walking their dogs or going for a jog, faltering when they pass his house, interest and attraction and jealousy, staring for a few moments too long to be casual. he never gives any of them the time of day, doesn’t respond to their small-talk questions or smiles. his frown just deepens, putting emphasis on the lines that mark his face, a physical manifestation of a life of constant worry and pain.

you’re admiring him from afar as you often do, peering through the window above your sink as you rinse your dishes, when you notice a gorgeous woman approaching his house. she’s all long legs and glowing dark skin, walking right up to him with all the confidence in the world.

and logan howlett, the brooding, mysterious man who keeps to himself and hardly interacts with anyone unless absolutely necessary, smiles at her. it’s a barely-there expression, a softening of his usual gruff persona and resting bitch face, but you notice it nonetheless. the woman is clearly emboldened by his response and leans into his space as she speaks, pressing a hand to his bicep, skin against skin, mouth moving in words you can’t hear.

you look away, pulling the curtains closed on the window, preferring to watch the pale fabric sway slightly than whatever interaction is happening there. you scrub your dishes a little harder than necessary after that, but no one is there to see it but you.

laura packs up her bag, shoving the papers inside randomly, no reason or order to it. you grit your teeth at the thought of how wrinkled and disorganised it’ll all be later, when she needs to find something specific or when it comes time to hand in her work to her teacher, but you keep your mouth diligently shut, because if there’s one thing you know about laura, it’s that she’s stubborn and temperamental and doesn’t take well to criticism.

logan stands beside the front desk, not far from where you’re flipping through the pile of books that had been returned while you were busy with laura, his hands on his hips as he watches her somehow both rush through the task and simultaneously take much too long to complete it. there’s obvious adoration in his eyes, a fondness that can’t be faked by the best of actors.

“do you-,” he starts, stops, an unfinished question that lasts a few seconds while he chases the right words, “laura really likes havin’ you around. talks about you a lot when you’re gone. so i - uh - wanted to invite you over to dinner. no pressure.”

you beam, books all but forgotten, “really?”

he grunts in response, shrugging. it’s not much as far as responses go, not terribly enthusiastic, but he wouldn’t have brought it up to you if he was against the idea, you assume. so you place a hand on his arm, more for your sake than his, enjoying the feeling of his sun-warmed skin and the smooth dark hair against your fingertips, catching his attention so his eyes fall on you instead of laura.

you think of the woman you’d seen speaking to him a few days ago, and a thrill runs through you, a stupidly possessive thrill that you have no right to feel. there’s nothing going on between you and logan, just mutual care for a troubled girl who hasn’t made any friends in school even after weeks.

this is for her, you tell yourself. to make sure she has a support system, people she trusts, to hopefully get her to open herself up to the possibility of other relationships, friendships with children her age who can help her learn what it means to let go and be a child for a bit. but in your mind, there’s still a rather large part of you preening at the fact that you’re going to have dinner at the howlett’s, and you bet that other woman can’t say the same.

“just let me know when,” you say, “i’m not typically very busy so whatever works on your schedule.”

“¿podría ser hoy?” laura asks, bounding up to the two of you, “porfis.”

you can’t say no to her wide eyes and hopeful smile, so you close up the library early. it’s fine, you live in a small town and no one ever really visits the library late at night anyway. the only person who may want to visit has her own key, a copy you’d made after finding the same teenage girl sleeping on the floor of the library six days in a row, having broken into the building each time.

it’s a short walk to the howlett’s house, laura talking your ear off the entire way there, ignoring the looks logan shoots her when she inevitably switches into spanish seemingly without noticing. but you know what it’s like to speak more than one language, you know the way conversations flit in and out between languages, and you can tell it’s often purposeful, done to get a rise out of logan.

“it’s good that you can understand her,” logan says as he unlocks the front door, his daughter running into the house and leaving the two of you behind, “i can’t, half the time. probably makes me sound like a shit dad.”

“it doesn’t,” you assure him, “laura talks about you all the time when you’re not around and she thinks you’re wonderful. she said you’ve only been in her life a few months? you can’t be expected to learn a whole language in that time.”

logan ignores your praise just as you’d expected him to do, “i think you remind her of home. it was fucked up but there were good parts. and i took her away from there. i did it for her but she still had to leave everythin’ and everyone she knew.”

“i’ll gladly be that piece of home if she needs it,” you say softly, “you got her out of a bad place. i don’t know much but i know that. her home is wherever you are.”

talking to logan is frighteningly easy, and the conversation continues as he heads into the kitchen. their house is nice, clean but sparsely decorated, not the artfully minimalist look of a magazine cover but rather the home of someone who never really knew how to settle down, how to allow a place to become more than just a shell, a temporary refuge to eventually be left behind. it screams logan, and makes you wonder what exactly he’s been through. 

but laura’s things are strewn around the place, a jacket of hers thrown on the couch, comic books that have seen better days piled on the coffee table, school papers on the countertop. it chases away the cold feeling that would otherwise linger between these walls.

you help logan cook, not willing to stand around doing nothing while you wait for the food to be ready. you admit to him that you’re surprised at his talent in the kitchen, and for a moment his jaw tenses like he’s going to tell you something difficult but he doesn’t. his arm brushes against yours as you hand him the spices that he requests, and goosebumps raise on your arms at the feeling.

laura eats like she hasn’t had food in days, and says the meal tastes better because you helped make it, which makes you laugh and logan roll his eyes. chiding laura on her table manners reminds you of your childhood, and an image flashes in your mind, unbidden, of you in this very same setting but as laura’s mother and logan’s wife.

it’s a vision you push away, one you’ll allow to linger as you’re falling asleep but that has no place in your thoughts now.

“next time we should do this at my house,” you comment, without really thinking over your words, your attention on laura and logan’s hand that lingers close to your thigh under the table, not touching you but present enough to offer a good distraction, “to make things fair, i mean.”

“next time?” logan repeats, and you falter, realising what you’d offered. there’s a familiarity in the way you’d made the offer, a throwaway comment, a familiarity that doesn’t exist between you and logan - at least not yet.

“if you’d want,” you offer slowly, “and if laura wants. i just - had fun tonight. it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to do it again.”

and you do. approximately once a week you start to have dinner with the howletts, switching between their place and yours. they’re a familiar presence in your life now, enough that you don’t startle when one of them sneaks up behind you, impossibly light on their feet, the stealth of hunters stalking their prey. you’d told this to logan and he’d raised an eyebrow at you and smirked but refused to explain his reaction to your words.

you start to teach logan recipes from your childhood, the sweet spices and flavours that bring you back to being laura’s age filling the kitchen. you argue with logan about not needing a recipe, saying you just know when it’s right.

though she never comments on it, you see the way laura’s smile brightens every time you place a dish on the table. you hope it brings her a modicum of comfort, reminds her of her place of birth the way it always does for you.

you haven’t felt so free in a long time, and you come to the belated realisation that you’ve been lonely lately, something you can only differentiate now that you feel it shifting. you love your friends but they have busy lives of their own, and you love your library but books can’t compensate for human contact, try as you might. 

“te noto estresada,” laura comments, poking your hand when you stare off into space for the third time that day.

“lo estoy,” you respond, “se averió una tubería y ahora tengo que llamar al plomero, pero no quiero..”

most kids wouldn’t care to have a conversation about these more monotonous, adult subjects, but laura pauses in her homework to give it a genuine reflection. she taps the eraser-end of her pencil against the table, nodding to herself like she’s just come up with an obvious solution.

“no tienes que. mi papá sabe reparar cosas,” she says, “pídele el favor.”

you hate to take advice from a child, even if that child is laura, who often acts much older than her age, and you hate to bother logan even more, but you don’t make much as a librarian and if there’s any way to save some extra money, you’re willing to embarrass yourself in front of the hot man you may have a slight crush on. 

you broach the topic when he comes to pick her up as usual, and to your surprise, he agrees easily. you don’t even have to ask the question, as soon as he’s heard the problem he’s offering up his help.

he shows up at your house later that night, deeming it fine to leave laura home alone since there’s only a 40% chance she’ll break something. he’s dressed in only a thin wife-beater, biceps on full display as he hunches under your sink, the muscles in his back flexing as he works. you stay in the kitchen, using the excuse that you should make sure he’s not making it worse, but spend the entire time staring at the shape of him, large and broad and everything you want.

“thank you,” you tell him when he’s finished, handing him a beer that you’d bought specifically for when he showed up at your place.

“no problem,” he says, shrugging, not making eye contact with you in a way that’s uncharacteristic of him, “no point havin’ you pay someone to do it when i can do it just fine.”

“but you had no obligation to help me,” you remind him softly.

“you help me all the time,” he responds gruffly, “you deal with laura’s shit and don’t complain. you spend time with us even if you got your own life to worry about. it’s only fair.”

you frown at that, “i enjoy spending time with you, logan. it’s not a favour of some kind that you have to repay.”

he grunts an acknowledgement that you don’t quite believe, quiet as he finishes the rest of his beer, and then he’s gone.

it’s hard not to know everyone in a small town, forcing you to make polite small talk with people you walk by who ask about your life and your family and friends and how’s your job going? it’s frustrating, one of the reasons you plan your errands for later in the evening, when the crowds are thinner and most of the people in the grocery store are people like you, who don’t want to be bothered, and teenagers wreaking havoc in the aisles.

you’re looking at fruit when you hear someone call your name, a voice that’s not immediately familiar, which raises alarm bells in your mind, the sound crescendoing into a siren as the click-clack of heels approaches. you resolutely keep your eyes in front of you, hoping that if you look very busy choosing avocados, perhaps you won’t be bothered.

this technique fails immediately, a woman coming up to your side and picking up the avocado you’d just put back, squeezing it to check if it’s ripe. the act is innocent, trying to put you at ease, but you know better. if she was just here to grab groceries she wouldn’t have called out your name, wouldn’t be tilting her head towards you with a saccharine smile.

you’ve seen her around, though you can’t remember her name, an older woman with two boys whose divorce was the talk of the town for a few months last year. from afar she appears put-together, dressed in business-casual attire indicating that she hadn’t had the time to change from her work clothes, blonde hair slicked back into a bun. but up close you can see the strands of hair that had begun falling out, the way her eyes were tight at the corners. a tired single mother.

you feel a pang of guilt at the way you’d immediately wanted to dismiss her, remind yourself that you have the day off tomorrow so you can sleep in, and smile at her.

“so, i heard a rumour, and you know i’m not one to gossip,” she glances your way expectantly, so you prompt her to continue, “which is why i’m asking you directly. you and logan howlett… do you have something going on?”

you pause, considering. it wouldn’t be a lie to say yes, as there is something going on between you and logan, though you know how she’ll interpret the words. you know that she would return home and immediately call everyone she knows to spread the news, and since the townspeople hadn’t left logan alone since he’d moved here, it would eventually spread to him, someone or another asking him about it, pressing for details.

“we’re… friends,” you settle on eventually, “i help laura with her homework sometimes after school and we got to know each other from that.”

it’s a truthful answer, if not deliberately vague. you hate to be the center of drama or attention - there’s a reason you chose to work at a library, quiet and unassuming and not interesting enough to be the subject of speculation.

she giggles, a true laugh, her expression softening with a hint of relief. she bumps you with her shoulder as if speaking to a longtime friend and says, “well, just between you and me, i know a lot of women who are going to be relieved to hear that.” 

you and logan grow closer, to the point where laura no longer initiates most of the time you spend together. you introduce him to your favourite movies when he mentions how long it’s been since he watched one, evenings spent giggling at the television screen while laura sleeps upstairs, having gone to bed long ago.

hours pass so quickly with logan by your side, until the sky resembles a painting, and he walks you home under the constellations of stars. he hangs by the door for a while longer, the both of you drifting, not quite ready to part ways, but you both have jobs in the morning and so you reluctantly bid him goodnight, letting the door to your home shut behind you, hiding the way you beam when he says it back.

dinner comes and goes like any other week, and soon enough you’re standing in logan’s kitchen helping him clean the dishes. this is the part where laura leaves the two of you alone, not wanting to be dragged into the chore, slipping out in that creepily silent way of hers.

there’s a tension that clings to logan tonight, a darkness that’s permeated over the evening, one you’d noticed when he’d come to pick up laura from the library and had almost said something to you but stopped. it wasn’t unusual for logan to be silent, letting you fill the majority of the conversation with your stories and laughter, responding with comments that make you laugh, proud smiles tugging on his lips when your body curls into him.

you’re not surprised when he puts the final dish in the washing machine and turns to face you, something akin to determination in his eyes, though you hardly know anything that could be the cause.

“another parent asked me out today,” he says, “the mom of someone in laura’s class.”

“oh,” you say, certain being stabbed in the heart would hurt less. you’re suddenly slightly nauseous, and you briefly consider using it as an excuse to go home early, but you’re not a coward. you won’t run from a conversation that’s inevitable.

one day logan will meet someone, whether that day is today you aren’t sure, and he’s going to fall for them. you consider the possibility that that person could be you, but you’re normally good at reading people, at seeing the subtleties in body language to indicate attraction, and logan has never given you any signs of your feelings for him being reciprocated.

it could be that he’s generally just a difficult person to read, that over the course of his life he’s had to learn to bury his emotions in a way many people don’t. it’s possible, believable even, with how long it had taken you to learn the intricacies of his expressions, the way the slightest tension between his brows could mean several different things. or, you think, he’s just not into you.

“is that good?” you ask, instead of voicing your current thoughts, which are a mantra of: fuck, fuck, no, fuck, please no.

“no,” he replies like it should be obvious, “her son is an asshole who tried to bully laura on her first day of school. she punched him.”

“good for her,” is your only reply.

you feel awful for the way his vehement denial makes you feel, a pleased warmth spreading in your stomach, a happiness you’ll carry with you all the way home. it’s not your place, and yet here you are, hoping that he doesn’t find love, thinking that you’d rather he be alone forever than with someone other than you. it’s selfish, cruel, makes it hard to keep your expression neutral over the disgust you feel at yourself rising.

logan’s watching you carefully, “it is good for her. she almost got suspended but i think even the principal was afraid of her.”

the conversation pitters out, your answering hum the only reply you can give with your mind wandering. it’s the perfect time to ask, the conversation relevant enough that it won’t be coming out of nowhere, a casual query that he can refuse to answer if he so desires.

“but otherwise,” you say, “if there was no history between her son and laura and she’d asked you out, what would you have said?”

“no,” he says again. quick, easy, painless and yet horribly painful for you.

“is there anyone in town that you’ve noticed?” you ask because you can’t help yourself, the pull of curiosity is too strong, almost as strong as the pull that always brings you into logan’s orbit when you stand close enough, bringing you unconsciously closer.

there’s a pause long enough to make your heart race, the beat so loud you can hear it ringing in your ears, a hard rhythm that’s much too rapid to be healthy. you wonder what logan can see on your face, following the way his impassive gaze traces over you, catching on your eyes and the quirk of your mouth.

when he speaks at last you can hardly hear it over the rushing sound of your anxiety. “i’ve noticed you.”

“what?”

“you,” he repeats, shrugging like it doesn’t matter, “but i’m old and worn. too much for a pretty thing like you. and there’s so much you don’t know about my life, horrible shit i’ve done that’ll make you look at me different. i’m angry and violent and i drink too much to deal with my emotions, even if i’ve cut back since laura. and her, laura. i got a kid now. can’t force that responsibility onto you too.”

you lift a hand up, silently asking him to stop, to allow you time to process the words you’re fairly certain were not a hallucination. he refuses to look at you, jaw clenched, staring instead at his hands the way one would stare at a murder weapon, an angry glare that speaks of hatred, pain and resentment.

it’s that look that makes the decision for you. you place your hand on top of his, dark glare now pointed at your hand, faltering when your fingers trace the grooves between his knuckles. you allow him a moment of silence to process, content to wait now that your mind is no longer racing, overthinking every breath and creating unlikely scenarios. rather, you feel calm, and you hope that the way you squeeze his hand transfers some of that peace to him.

“is this your version of asking me out?” you ask when his eyes lock on yours, a raging storm hiding behind the calm facade of his careful mask, “because normally people don’t try to convince the other person to say no.”

“i’m not asking anything,” he replies, voice hoarse, “i know how i feel about you. but i’m a mess and i can’t ask you to deal with that.”

“alright, well, even if you’re not asking this is me saying yes,” you tell him, turning his hand so his palm faces up, lacing your fingers together, skin still slightly damp from the washing you’d been doing.

he doesn’t let go of your hand, but he changes the subject. you don’t argue. logan has some sort of feelings for you, though he hasn’t put them into clear words, and for now, that’s enough. you can wait while he wades through whatever self-hatred spiral is happening in his mind, the excuses he’ll give you for why you can’t be together. because he was holding back before, when he’d explained why he wasn’t good enough for you. he’d forced himself to stop talking, but you can tell there’s more behind that angry rant.

so instead of pushing, you let the rest of the evening pass as it usually would, playing monopoly with laura, her temper rising when the game doesn’t go her way, cussing at the board in spanish. she’s creative with her insults and you press your lips together tightly to hold back a laugh. you’re certain logan knows what she’s saying, or can at least make an educated guess, but he doesn’t comment on it.

she heads upstairs when she loses, stomping her feet down on every step, a strange contrast to how she often moves like a shadow. you’re content to let her walk away, knowing the anger isn’t real - she’ll grumble and stew in the loss for a bit before moving on as she always does.

“you need to know what you’re getting into,” logan says, and it takes you a while to piece together what he means, your earlier conversation pushed to the back of your mind during monopoly. “if you agree to this and then realise it’s too much and leave - i don’t think laura’d be able to handle it.”

there’s an unspoken, and me, in the way he watches you, vulnerable, something logan loathes to be. so you wrap your arms around him, not for the first time, but it hasn’t yet lost its novelty. you feel his body heat despite the layers of clothing separating the two of you from making direct skin-to-skin contact, sighing in pleasure as you relax with your head on his chest.

“we’re not strangers logan,” you say, “i know who you are, how you treat me, how you treat your daughter. and if more of this is what it’s like to date you, to be with you, i don’t see myself leaving.”

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

latina!reader taglist: @naggywaggy @mami-veracruz @spencerswh0r3 @gl1ndathegoodwitch @taextannie

[librarygarten]

Hello, i loved all your LU scenarios, specially the ones where the chain reacts to their games, they were so well written.

I was wondering if you could do some scenarios where the reader talks about some Zelda trivia with the chain, like the development of some games (Majoras mask was made in just one year and the director of Zelda don't like it, there were supposed to be more dungeons in Wind Waker) or the reception of their releases (Four swords adventures sold less than a million copies, WW was poorly recieved unlike TP for it's art style, this changed as time passed, etc.), perhaps some easter eggs or cameos (Talon and Ingo looks like Mario and Luigi, Link appears in other games as a cameo).

Okay, but why is this lowkey me 😭. My autistic ass would NOT shut up about their games, even if I was telling them stuff they didn't want to hear about.

It was a peaceful day. The chain had found an inn to stay at for the night. Nobody was injured. Supplies and spirits were high. Until Wind decided to ask you a question.

“So, if our adventures are games, does that mean you know everything that happened during them? Like everyone we met, everything we did, EVERYTHING?” Wind asked. Some of the other Links brustled, clearly uncomfortable with the question and what you might say. You smile nervously. 

“Basically? But you don’t talk in the games, so I don’t know anything you said.”

“But who made the games? How do they know about our adventures?” Wind asked.

“Oooh boy.” You scratched the back of your head, “There’s a company called Nintendo, they made most of the Legend of Zelda games. I think Four’s games were made by a different company, though. That’s why some of the details are a bit screwy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Four snapped his head up to look at you, forgetting the weapon he had been working on.

“Oh, uh…” you stammered, “Well, the other company made your games, but they didn’t use the same stories as Nintendo did, so the lore gets a bit weird. Like, your Ganon is probably a completely unrelated guy from the Ganon that Time, Wind, Hyrule, Legend, and Twilight all had to deal with. The way he randomly turns into a pig in your game after getting that trident or whatever doesn’t match up at all with how Ganondorf turns into a pig after being sealed away by Time’s Zelda in an alternate timeline where Time dies during the final battle.”

“Wait, there’s a timeline where Time DIED?” Twilight is behind you now, and you’re not sure when he got there. You turn to look at him, his face full of panic.

“Yeah, Ocarina of Time kind of broke the timeline into three different paths. The game was so popular it became, like, the most important part of the timeline. It actually sold so well that the people who made the game made a sequel to it, Majora’s Mask, in under a year, which is kind of insane. For context, Ocarina of Time took over twice that long to make.” Time raised an eyebrow at your explanation, but decided he didn’t want to know more.

“Wait, if there are multiple timelines, how can you know which of our adventures are ours and which were just really similar? The many timelines means there’s infinite possibilities.” Sky asked, reminding everyone that he was the only Link to ever attend school (and remember it), and apparently he studied multiverse theory???? Moving on.

“Well, there are some differences between languages, I guess? Like, in the English version of Link’s Awakening, there’s a quest to get a mermaid’s lost necklace, but that was just a change the translators made. In the original Japanese, the quest is to get the mermaid’s bikini top.” You chatter on, missing the blush that creeps up Legend’s neck and ears. “And some of the items in Wind Waker are mixed around between the English and Japanese versions. Like maps, heart containers, and rupees are in each other's spots.”

“Can we go back to the part where there’s multiple Ganons, apparently?” Wild gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. You hadn’t notice him sit down. Actually, the whole chain seemed to be listening now. Wuh-oh.

“Oh, well, not at one time. Unless the dragon cutscenes from Tears of the Kingdom happen after Skyward Sword and Breath of the Wild is after all the other games. Then, Calamity Ganon was just kind of… chilling under Hyrule Castle while Four and Time dealt with their respective Ganons. But fans still argue about where your games fit on the timeline.” You shrug, trying to downplay how absolutely terrifying dealing with two Ganons at once would be.

“Wait, why do fans argue? Isn’t there an official timeline?” Hyrule asked. You groan.

“Yes, but it was published before Breath of the Wild was released, so we need to figure out where it is on the timeline based on the stuff in game, which is hard, because there's so many easter eggs.”

“Easter… eggs?” Warriors tilts his head.

“Items or decorations that reference other games. Like, in A Link Between Worlds, Legend’s house has Majora’s Mask hanging on the wall for no discernable reason. And in Breath of the Wild, there’s areas named after places in Link’s Awakening, like Koholit Rock and Goponga Island, which makes no sense because those places were dreamt up by a wind fish. Not to mention the fact the ruins of Lon Lon Ranch can be found, but there’s no way that structure would have been in as good of condition as it is for how old it is. And Lurelin village is an almost exact copy of Outset Island, but again, the timing is just too far apart.”

“But you never answered my other question.” Wind tapped your shoulder, stopping what would have been an hour-long rant on where Wild’s games fit on the official timeline. “How did ‘Nintendo’ or whoever else know about our adventures with that much detail?”

“UHHHHHH………. OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME.” You quickly stand up from the table and launch yourself out the nearest window, escaping the conversation. (You were on the first floor. You’re fine).

[avonnimimi]

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Plugged

The Series. Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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a/n: PART TWO IS HERE BITCHESSSSS. @hcneymooners @wannabe-fic-reader im so nervous about this lmao. I hope you all enjoy :) . Please remember, some things will be written in my native english dialect, if you don’t understand, comment and I will translate. MEN AND MINROS DNI

content: drug dealer! Vi x Black fem reader, weed, intox, cursing, toxic relationships, gang violence, guns, vi being fine asf, ANGST (kinda). lmk if i missed anything <3

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Donte didn't drag his sorry ass back home until the sky was starting to lighten, that weak-ass sunrise painting the shitty apartment in a pathetic, pale glow. You woke up on the couch, stiff and sore, to the feeling of his clammy hand creeping up your thigh. You shoved him off hard enough to send him tumbling onto the floor.

"Where the fuck were you? I had to hitch a ride home with your friend," you spat, the taste of stale weed and resentment thick in your mouth. He looked at you with that lazy, half-lidded gaze that used to make your stomach flip, now just made you want to puke. He licked his lips, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver of disgust down your spine.

"You fine when you mad, mama," he slurred, his voice raspy with sleep and something else, something that smelled faintly of cheap perfume.

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. "That's how bitches like me get raped and killed," you growled, the words sharp and bitter.

He let out a dramatic sigh, mumbling something about you talking too much, about how you were always starting shit. You ignored him, the anger a cold knot in your gut. "I'm going out with the girls," you announced, already planning your escape from this suffocating apartment, from him.

You took a scalding hot shower, scrubbing his touch off your skin, then dressed in your favorite ripped jeans and a tight crop top, the one that always made him look twice. You spent an hour meticulously applying your makeup, each stroke of eyeliner a tiny act of defiance. You even finished that damn marketing assignment, the one you'd been putting off for weeks, just to prove to yourself, and maybe to him, that you weren't some useless, dependent thing. Then you called Shay.

"Hey, baby mama, wanna go out today?" you chirped, forcing a lightness you didn't feel.

"Bitch, don't wish no kids on me! I rebuke that shit in the name of Jesus! Girl, bye," Shay's voice boomed through the phone, her laughter infectious. You couldn't help but giggle, the tension easing just a little.

"I'm trying to be an auntie!" you whined playfully.

Shay promised to be there in 20 minutes. Five minutes later, her car horn blared outside, the sound a welcome interruption to the suffocating silence of the apartment. You didn't even glance at Donte as you walked out the door.

The second you were in Shay's car, the gossip floodgates opened. "Girl, you heard Violet's outta jail?"

You rolled your eyes, already tired of hearing about this Vi chick. "I've seen her. What's the big deal?"

Shay looked at you, a mixture of shock and amusement on her face. "I forgot you weren't here when she was running these streets," she explained, shaking her head. "Vi was the shit. Freshly 18, but she owned these ends. Connected to everyone, kept shit cordial. It wasn't just about the weed, girl."

You listened, intrigued despite yourself. "But then she got knocked. Don't know how, but she's been in jail ever since. Just got out last week."

A slow smile spread across your face. "So, would now be a good time to tell you she took me home and brought me weed at 3 AM?"

Shay slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt in the middle of the street. "BITCH, WHAT?!" You burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the small car. "God, I'm so jealous. You don't know what I would give to be up in them drawls…." she trailed off, her voice laced with a longing that surprised you.

"Hello?! Why would you say that, omg?" you asked, feigning outrage.

Shay just laughed, shaking her head as she pulled back into traffic.

You ended up at a dingy arcade, the kind with sticky floors and flickering neon lights. You spent hours playing air hockey, racking up tickets, and winning handfuls of cheap candy. Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

It was Vi. You didn't even remember saving her number, but that weed… that had been some seriously potent shit.

"Hello?" you answered, your voice a little breathless from laughing.

"Precious, where you at?" The nickname sent a shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, liking it more than you should. You had a man, you reminded yourself.

"Stop calling me that," you said, trying to sound annoyed, but failing miserably. "I'm at the arcade. Why?"

"Come outside. Got somethin' for you," she said, her voice low and husky. Then she hung up. How the hell did she know where you were? You grabbed Shay's arm, pulling her towards the exit. "Girl, Vi just told me to come outside. Did you tell her I was here?"

Shay looked genuinely confused. "Nah, babe, I ain't said shit. Haven't spoken to her."

You stepped out of the arcade, blinking against the bright afternoon sun. And there she was, leaning against her black Hellcat like she owned the damn place, a spliff dangling from her lips. Shay was practically drooling beside you. "God, she's so fine," she mumbled, her eyes wide.

You walked towards Vi, a nervous flutter in your stomach. "How'd you know I was here?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Vi leaned down, her eyes locking with yours. "I got eyes and ears everywhere, precious. Ain't nothin' I don't know."

"So, whatcha want? I was in the middle of a game," you said, trying to maintain a cool facade, but her closeness was making it hard to think straight.

She straightened up, pulling something out of the car. Three crisp hundred-dollar bills. She took your hand, her fingers brushing against yours, and placed the money in your palm.

You stared at her, speechless. "What's this for?"

She looked you up and down, her gaze lingering on your chipped nails. "Two of your acrylics are missing. Ain't gonna let precious walk around like that," she scoffed, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I can tell when someone ain't getting taken care of." You glanced at Shay, who looked as stunned as you felt.

It was only then that Vi acknowledged Shay. "Aye, that my girl Shay?" She stepped away from you, the loss of her warmth surprisingly noticeable.

"Hey, Vi," Shay said, waving awkwardly.

"Hey, lil mama. Ain't seen you in a minute," Vi replied, her voice softer now. A pang of jealousy twisted in your gut. Vi seemed to notice, her eyes flicking back to yours for a brief moment.

"Yeah, you been in jail like a bum," Shay retorted with a nervous giggle.

Vi said she had other business to attend to, her eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. "Call me if you need anything, precious," she said, her voice low and husky. Then she got back in her car, the engine roaring to life before she sped away, leaving you standing there, the three hundred-dollar bills burning a hole in your pocket.

"Bitch, did THE Violet just give you three bills to get your nails done?!" Shay shrieked, breaking the spell. You just shook your head, still reeling from the encounter.

—

Shay dropped you back at your apartment around 5 PM. Donte was sprawled on the couch, glued to the TV, a controller clutched in his hand.

"Get dressed. We going to Tevonn's," he said without looking at you, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Tevonn? Ain't that your biggest opp?" you asked, a sense of unease settling over you.

"Nah, we cool now," he mumbled, his eyes still fixed on the screen. You nodded slowly, searching his face for any flicker of dishonesty. Something felt off.

You went to your room, a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. You changed into a little black dress, the one that always made you feel confident, and tucked the three hundred dollars into your purse.

—

Tevonn's place was packed, the air thick with the smell of weed and sweat. Music blasted through the speakers, the bass vibrating through the floor and up into your chest. You followed close behind Donte, trying to navigate the throng of unfamiliar faces. This didn't feel like a party. It felt like a trap.

Donte found a couch and sat, pulling you down onto his lap. You sat stiffly, acutely aware of the eyes on you, the weight of unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air. You scanned the room, your heart skipping a beat when you spotted Vi across the room, talking to a group of men. But her eyes… her eyes were on you, and for a moment, the chaos of the party faded away, leaving only the intensity of her gaze. You quickly looked away, your cheeks flushing, thanking God you were black.

Donte mumbled something about needing to "deal with some business" and pulled you towards the back of the house. You followed reluctantly, your unease growing with every step.

The back room was smaller, more dimly lit, and the air was thick with tension. Tevonn and his crew were there, their faces hard and unreadable. This didn't look like business. It looked like a setup. You grabbed Donte's hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "You sure about this?"

He brushed you off, his voice impatient. "Come on," he muttered, pulling you forward.

Tevonn stepped towards Donte, his eyes cold and calculating. You saw the glint of metal tucked into his waistband, and your heart pounded in your chest.

"Yeah, so to settle this shit, we want your girl," Tevonn said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. The words hit you like a physical blow, the air knocked out of your lungs.

"Excuse me, what?" you choked out, stumbling back. "Settle what shit?"

Donte grabbed your arm, yanking you towards Tevonn. "Just go. Gotta deal with this shit, then I'ma come back for you, mama," he said, his voice tight with annoyance.

"I'm not going anywhere, Donte! What the fuck?!" you yelled, struggling against his grip.

His patience finally snapped. His hand swung back, connecting with your cheek with a sickening thud. You stumbled back, tears stinging your eyes. He crouched down, his fingers digging into your arms. "Aye, just do what I'm sayin'! Gotta deal with this," he hissed, his voice laced with menace. He pulled you roughly towards Tevonn.

"There a problem out here?" The voice cut through the chaos like a knife. Vi.

Tevonn stiffened, and Donte let out a string of curses under his breath. Vi walked towards them, her movements fluid and effortless, her eyes fixed on you. She casually draped her arm over Tevonn's shoulder, pulling him close.

"What's going on out here, my boy?" she asked, her voice smooth and deceptively calm. Tevonn mumbled something about payment, about Donte sleeping with his girl, his words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Vi held your gaze, a silent promise in her eyes.

With a swift, practiced movement, Vi lifted the gun from Tevonn's waistband, tossing it aside as if it were a child's toy. Then she drew her own weapon, the movement so smooth and seamless you barely registered it until the cold steel was pressed against Tevonn's temple.

She whispered something in his ear, her voice low and menacing. You watched as Tevonn nodded, his face pale and drawn, muttering apologies. Then she turned her attention to Donte, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Not gonna lie, bruh, you know how I feel about men hitting women," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. Donte froze, his bravado melting away like ice in the sun.

"Vi, we go way back. It ain't that serious," he pleaded, his voice trembling.

"I don't give a fuck," Vi growled, shoving Tevonn aside and stepping towards Donte. Even though Donte was taller, Vi radiated an aura of power that made him seem small and insignificant.

She pressed the gun against his forehead, her finger tightening on the trigger. Donte finally released you, his eyes wide with fear. You ran to Vi, and she caught you, her arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

"Don't ever touch her again, Donte. Don't make me have to teach you this lesson twice," she warned, her voice cold and hard.

She scooped you up as if you weighed nothing, carrying you through the crowded house, ignoring Donte's desperate pleas and empty threats. She carried you to her car, gently placing you in the passenger’s seat.

She closed the door, then walked around to the driver's side, sliding in and cupping your face in her hands, her thumbs gently stroking the bruise forming on your cheek. "Gonna kill him," she mumbled, her voice thick with rage.

You pulled away, the anger and fear churning in your stomach replaced by a strange mix of relief and… something else. "Just take me home," you whispered, your voice trembling.

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this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[kimi240302]

Craving

A/N: Before you read this story, be aware I am from Germany and can't write a bit of English. That's why I'm sending this through an app that translates it for me.

A/N2.0: In this story, the characters are all a little older.

Summary: Y/N Swan tries everything to keep her promise to stay away from Demetri Volturi. But can you stay away from the man fate bound you to?

Demetri Volturi x Female!Swan!reader

Words: 3,4k

Main Post / Twilight Masterlist / Request list / Playlist 

Part 2 of Daylight Masterlist 

18+ I am new to the whole smut writing so please be nice  

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Tellin' myself it's the last time Can you spare any mercy that you might find If I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try Try to follow your light, but it's night time Please, don't leave me in the end

- David Kushner 

"Y/N?!”

Startled, the young girl flinched. Her gaze, which she had directed outside the entire time, turned to the whiteboard, and therefore to her scowling teacher. When Y/N noticed that the whole classroom was looking at her in a wait-and-see manner, her cheeks turned red as she shrank slightly into herself.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Porter, I wasn't listening." Shaking her head, the teacher sighed. "That's been happening to you quite a bit lately Miss Swan!" Embarrassed, since all the attention was still on her, Y/N just shook her head apologetically. "Just pay attention from now on. The things we discuss today will come up in next week's exam."  Y/N sat up a little straighter, took out her pen from her bag, and pulled her notebook towards her, which made the teacher smile contentedly and continue with the lesson.

For fifteen minutes, Y/N was able to focus on what was going on in front of her, until her gaze turned back outside and her thoughts drifted back to Demetri. As she did so, her hand settled, as if by itself, on the spot where Demetri's lips had touched her skin. Her eyes closed and the memories came back. It almost seemed to her as if Demetri was here in the same room with her, very close again.

Annoyed, Y/N exhaled, opened her eyes and dropped her hand. Three weeks had passed since the meeting with Demetri in the library. Three weeks of pure torture, as Y/N no longer knew exactly where she stood, what she felt, or what exactly she wanted.

Then to top it all off, the young girl felt guilty towards her sister for indirectly breaking her promise. While it had been Demetri who had sought her out, Y/N hadn't really done anything about his closeness either, or really found it disturbing. Y/N therefore kept inventing excuses not to talk to Bella for more than half an hour to an hour, even skipping a phone call here and there. Bella, surprisingly, ignored this. She probably thought Y/N had a lot to do with school, which was true somewhere.

On the other hand, Y/N was overwhelmed with what she was feeling. She missed the feel of Demetri's body against hers. She missed his hands holding her, his lips on her skin, and his presence. Y/N even had to admit that she searched for him whenever she was out.

Yet it was almost as if Demetri Volturi no longer existed. As if he had disappeared from the scene and the only thing he had left behind was desire and words that Y/N did not understand, or rather did not want to understand.

"How long can you hide your sins from the light of day?"

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"You should come out to party with us." Mara, a friend of Y/N, looked at her piercingly. "You've been going out for two weeks only to go to school, and even there you're absent the entire time and hardly talk."

Annoyed, Y/N released air from her lungs as she flopped down on her bed. "I just don't feel like doing anything else. Everyone has that once, it'll pass."

Mara jumped up from the chair she had been sitting on for the past hour and tried to coax Y/N into doing something other than just lying around in her room. Her fingers encircled Y/N's ankles. With a strong tug, Mara pulled Y/N off her bed.

Startled, she let out a scream as she plopped to the floor. Silence reigned for a moment until the two friends looked at each other and burst out laughing. Mara lay down on the floor next to the laughing Y/N, as she couldn't stop laughing either.

Both friends looked at the ceiling, trying to get their breathing under control as they slowly calmed down.

"What's it like?" Confused, Y/N turned her head in Mara's direction. "What exactly?" Her friend looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I have a big sister Y/N, I know what heartbreak looks like. I'm just wondering what it feels like. I've never been in love, so I can't understand someone wanting to pull away from everything and everyone because of it."  Y/N turned her gaze back to the ceiling. Clearing her throat briefly, she tried to collect herself. "It's more complicated than heartbreak." The young girl took one deep breath. "You have to imagine that I never really knew who I was at home. I felt lost, which I still do from time to time." Y/N fell silent. Saddened and depressed by her own words, even if they spoke the truth.

"Why?" "Bella always cast a shadow over me. She was all my parents saw. I tried to step out of it, but every time I did, I stood in it again. So I gave it up and just lived in it. When I met Demetri, that's his name, I had the feeling of being seen for the first time. Really seen. I wasn't Bella's little sister anymore, I was just Y/N." Smiling, she closed her eyes and remembered back to the day she had first seen the vampire.

A cold hand placed itself under Y/N's chin and lifted it. This forced the young girl to look up. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her bag as she looked into a pair of red eyes. "What's your name Chéri?" At the blond-haired man's voice, a shiver ran down her spine. "Y/N...." Her voice was soft.

With a soft smile, Demetri released her chin and brushed a tangled strand of hair behind her ear. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

"What's it like to be around him?" "It feels like coming home. When he's around me, it's like I can finally take a breath." Y/N gave a soft laugh. Confused, Mara looked at her, "What is it?" "At the risk of sounding ridiculous, when Demetri touches me it's like he reminds me that I'm alive and not just existing. His touches almost burn, and they continue to do so long after he's gone."

Mara was silent again for a moment. "That doesn't sound ridiculous. On the contrary it sounds beautiful, like a connection anyone would want to have. But then why are you sad?" "My family is against it." Mara exhaled in annoyance. "You mean your sister is against it."  "And a few other people I care about, or at least used to." Y/N's expression changed to a sad one. "So what's the plan? To forget him." The young girl just nods.

Mara, sighing, nudged her friend in the ribs with her elbow, making Y/N wince.

"Now let's be honest, let's go to the club today. The others are coming too. The first step towards oblivion." Y/N rubbed the spot where Mara's elbow had hit her.  "If I come with you, will you promise not to be violent towards me anymore?"

Playfully thoughtful, Mara put a hand to her chin and considered for a few seconds.

"If I have to..." Dramatically, the hand moved from her chin to her chest. "I promise to behave towards you!"

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed the pillow, which had fallen on the floor with her earlier, and threw it in Mara's face.

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"Look who decided to join us for the night!" Mara spread her arms and showed her group of friends Y/N, immediately they all started cheering. "The lost child has returned!" Y/N rolled her eyes and plopped down next to Mick on the bench in the club. "I only skipped one club visit!" She had to raise her voice to fight the music. "One too many!" called Mick back, pressing his fresh beer into her hand. He put his arm on her shoulders and lifted the other beer to toast with the others.

As the evening went on, more and more alcohol flowed. Which helped Y/N lose any thought of Demetri and her confusing feelings for him.

With her eyes closed, Y/N moved to the tune of the music. The darkness that surrounded her, broken only by green and red lights every few seconds, made her feel safe and out of reach. Y/N felt free for the first time. No vampire drama could find her here. It was just her and her friends here.

The bodies around her, the young girl was already not even aware of, as well as the smell of sweat and alcohol. Smiling, she raised her arms in the air. 

Y/N's peace was quickly shattered. Startled, she flinched when two hands came to her hips. Her arms dropped down so she could put her hands over the stranger's and push them away. But as her skin touched the stranger's and she felt the familiar cold, the young girl literally sank into the body behind her. An unfamiliar feeling of relief spread through her.

"Demetri..."

His name was no more than a whisper, but Y/N knew he had heard her. After all, he was a vampire. The grip on her hips strengthened as if to assure her that it was really him, that he was really behind her and was not just an illusion.

"What do you think you're doing here Trésor?" Goosebumps formed on Y/N's skin. Tightening her grip on his hands, she sought the hold to steady herself. "Trying to forget." She murmured, not stopping to move, forcing Demetri to follow her lead.

The vampire snorted in amusement. His left hand settled on Y/N's stomach, where he applied enough pressure to keep Y/N's back against his chest. Demetri also released his right hand from her hip and let his fingertips travel upward just a few millimeters over the filmy fabric of Y/N's black blouse. When his fingers stopped at the exposed cleavage that started just below her breasts, Y/N had to gasp. Demetri's lips hovered just inches from her ear. "What are you trying to forget?"

Carefully almost, as if the vampire was afraid his mate would shatter like glass, he touched the exposed skin, between her breasts. Slowly his fingers slid up. Y/N bit her lip gently. She didn't want Demetri to know how much influence he had on her. However, the young girl quickly lost her focus as Demetri's fingers slid over her collarbone. Out of instinct, she grabbed Demetri's right arm, causing him to pause in his movement.

"I wanted to forget you." Her words sounded breathless and desperate. Demetri laughed, "And you really thought for a second that I would let this happen?" The vampire lowered his head. As he did so, he let his lips run over Y/N's cheek and chin. Arriving at her neck, he lowered his lips to her pulse point without further thought. Without hurting her he sucked his mouth there to make a mark on her. The young girl's eyes widened before she closed them. Her body automatically pressed even closer to his as Y/N's grip tightened on Demetri's arm.

"Good luck forgetting now." Demetri had moved away from her neck and taken his arms from her. Confused and slightly backward staggering, Y/N opened her eyes and at the lack of presence behind her, turned around. Only to find that Demetri had disappeared and left her behind  once again.

"He can't be serious now!"

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The young Swan girl felt as if a bucket of water had been poured over her head. Any signs of being drunk had disappeared and been replaced by a feeling of emptiness.

Slamming her apartment door behind her, Y/N shook her shoes off her feet. She had told her friends a half-hearted excuse, gotten out of the club into the next best cab, and headed home.

Tired, Y/N leaned against her front door. Her gaze slid around her dark apartment. Sighing, her head lightly banged on the door behind her. Tears came to her eyes as she realized how lonely she actually felt. Y/N didn't miss Forks, her sister, her father, or her friends, though. She was missing Demetri. Which made no sense from her point of view, since they were both never in the same place for more than half an hour.

Shaking her head, Y/N pushed herself away from her door, banished her way through the still dark apartment to the bathroom, and slowly began to undress in the process. She wanted nothing more than to wash the evening off her skin. The alcohol, her sweat, and the feeling of what Demetri had left on her skin. As she walked past her bedroom window, Y/N opened it to let the evening air in and since she lived on the fifth floor she didn't worry about anyone getting into her apartment.

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

With a towel tied around her body, Y/N stood stunned in front of her bathroom mirror.

""This bloody..."" Twisting her neck a bit to the side, she looked at the red mark on her neck. Gasping, she propped her hands on the sink. "A hickey? Seriously!"

Shaking her head in front of her, she tugged on her towel again and left the bathroom to get dressed in her bedroom. Just as she was about to open her closet door to look for her sleeping clothes, a voice familiar to her was heard.

"Mon amour you should not leave your window open like that. Someone might come in here unannounced."

With a cry, the young girl turned to her bed. Stunned, Y/N looked at the vampire. Demetri had made himself comfortable on her bed. His hands were clasped behind the back of his head as he watched her with a satisfied grin.

"I live on the fifth floor! No one can get in there just like that. Except crazy vampires who don't know what privacy is!"

Angrily, she braced her hands on her hips. Demetri raised an eyebrow. "I thought the window was an invitation for me. After all, we both know that the height of your apartment is nothing that can stop me."  Several times Y/N blinked as she processed Demetri's words.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Y/N, enraged, grabbed the nearest object that fell into her fingers and threw it at Demetri. The latter jumped up from the bed to avoid the book Y/N threw at him.

"Mon amour you know that can't hurt me, right?" With an annoyed snort, Y/N grabbed her other textbook and aimed it at Demetri again. "I don't care!" Demetri ducked his head, repositioned himself properly, and looked after the book that had knocked a vase onto the floor.

"Think about your decor Y/N." Demetri's grin seemed to make the young girl even angrier. By the third time she turned to grab something and throw it at the vampire, Demetri had had enough. He closed the distance between them and stood directly in front of her.

Y/N, who was just turning back to face him, startled, dropped the book from her hand, and took an avoiding step backward. The skin on her back touched the cold wood, of her closet. This reminded her that she was still standing in front of Demetri in only a towel. Y/N's hands grasped the top hem of the towel and pulled it closer to her skin.

"Why are you here Demetri?" Y/N uttered her words only softly, with an uncertain tone. Demetri could even hear an anxious undertone. He stepped over the inches of distance that still existed between the two. The vampire raised his hand to Y/N's cheek, which made her close her eyes. The trembling of her body became more obvious and Demetri had to admit to himself that this reaction of his mate hurt him.

"Open your eyes Y/N." Demetri rested his forehead against Y/N's as he whispered his next words. "I beg you, don't be afraid of me." The young girl's eyes flew open. She had to swallow because of the closeness of their faces and the intensity of Demetri's gaze.

"Then give me a reason not to be afraid."

Demetri's free hand rested against Y/N's other cheek as he released his forehead from hers. Without hesitating any further, he lowered his lips to those of his mate. Instantly Y/N tensed and Demetri feared that he had gone too far. But Y/N leaned more toward him. Her chest pressed against his to keep her towel where it was as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss as passionately as Demetri had.

The vampire's hands dropped down to Y/N's hips.

When they both broke away from each other, Demetri stopped with his lips just inches from hers. Y/N opened her eyes, letting her right arm slide down Demetri's chest. The vampire inhaled, even though he didn't have to, not breaking eye contact with Y/N for a second. "I would never hurt you Y/N. I'm not the monster the Cullens want me to be."

Y/N placed her right hand on Demetri's cheek. Her fingertips gently ran over his skin. With a smile, Y/N watched as Demetri's eyes closed as he leaned into her touch. She realized that he felt the same in her presence as she did in his, comfort.

Y/N leaned closer to Demetri with her face getting closer and closer to him. Just as the young girl was about to close her eyes, a ringing interrupted her. Startled, Y/N flinched and separated herself from Demetri. The latter opened his eyes annoyed when Y/N took her hands from him, put them back to the towel and detached herself from his body. Demetri let go of her, watching as Y/N went to her cell phone, picked it up and read the name. "Bella..."

Shaking his head, he walked back toward her. "Don't answer it." Uncertain, his mate looked at him as her fingers tightened around her phone. Demetri had enough of Bella, enough of the promise of what she had taken from his mate, and enough of waiting. He grabbed Y/N`s face between his hands again, pulling her body towards him and letting his lips meet hers. Startled by her mate's rudeness, she dropped the phone on the floor between them. Her fingers buried themselves in the thick material of Demetri's top, at his waist.

"Tonight you're all mine, tonight it's just the two of us!"

Demetri bent Y/N's head slightly to the side with his right hand. Immediately he lowered his lips to the skin on her neck, causing his mate to groan. Meanwhile, his hands wandered over her shoulders to the top saun of the towel, where he untied the knot Y/N had made in it to make sure the fabric stayed where it was.

Y/N shuddered as she felt the fabric of the towel loosen around her body. With trembling fingers she pushed herself away from Demetri. Confused, he looked at her and wanted to protest, but fell silent when Y/N's fingers went to the first button of his shirt and opened it. They both looked into each other's eyes while she repeated this with the other buttons. Carefully, Y/N ran the exposed skin back up as she undid the last button. As she did so, she could swear Demetri gasped several times. Arriving at his shoulders, she slipped the shirt off his body. She let her fingers wander further up his neck and pulled him down to her. This time it was Y/N who deepened the kiss directly as Demetri's hands worked their way down to her thighs. He lifted her up without breaking the kiss and placed her on the bed behind them.

The vampire and his mate created their own little world that night under the protection of her darkness. A world where Bella and the Cullens were forgotten. Where Y/N's fears for the future had no place. Where the ringing of Y/N's cell phone was ignored and where she belonged completely to Demetri.

A world that shattered with the first rays of daylight. When Y/N opened her eyes, she was aware not only of the burning sensation left by Demetri's touch, but also of the tightness in her lungs. She had betrayed her sister.

Y/N turned in bed to face her window. The side of the bed on which Demetri had been lying was cold, but not empty. A note lay on the pillow. Confused, the young girl straightened up, grabbed it and read it.

"Daylight exposes your sins more and more, so why still try to hide them in the darkness?"

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I will write a Part 3

@twilightlover2007​ @ssnapsaurus @svtbpbts

@xxx-wounded-angel-xxx  @ms-sasa​

[you-have-a-metal-arm]

Moonlight Confessions

Pairing: TASM!Peter x Bestfriend!Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

Trope: Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Tooth-rotting amount of fluff

Summary: Peter’s always there for you when it’s hard. But this time, Peter’s the one making everything hard, until he doesn’t.

Author’s Note: Please do not copy or translate my work. English is not my first language, so please understand grammar or spelling mistakes.

This fic was in my notes for so long, and I finally decided to finish it. Enjoy!

The city lights of New York twinkled like a thousand stars, casting a shimmering glow over the sprawling metropolis. From the rooftop of an old brownstone apartment, the distant hum of traffic and occasional chirp of a night bird provided a soothing backdrop. You sat alone on the rooftop, your gaze fixed on the sprawling city below, lost in thought. The cool night air brushed against your cheeks, but it did little to soothe the weight on your heart.

It had been two weeks since you last saw Peter Parker. His absence felt like a void, amplified by the emotional strain you were feeling. The B on your recent test, while not disastrous, felt like a personal failure. And missing Peter, your best friend and confidant, only deepened the ache.

The rooftop door creaked open, and you turned sharply to see Peter stepping out into the moonlight. The night had cast a soft glow around him, highlighting his tousled hair and the warm, genuine smile on his face. In his hands, he held a bouquet of sunflowers, their bright yellow petals stark against the darkness.

“Hey, Y/N,” Peter’s voice broke through the stillness, carrying a note of concern and warmth. “Sorry it’s been so long. I thought you might like these.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as he approached, the sight of the flowers lifting your spirits despite the heaviness you felt. You took the bouquet from him, your fingers brushing against his. “Peter, these are beautiful. Thank you.”

Peter sat down beside you, the night casting soft shadows across his face. His usual playful demeanor was tempered by genuine concern. “So, what’s been going on? I’ve noticed you’ve seemed a bit off lately. Anything you want to talk about?”

You hesitated, the cool breeze making you shiver slightly as you clutched the bouquet. The B on your test wasn’t the only thing troubling you. It was the emptiness of missing Peter and the struggle to keep your emotions in check. You wanted to be strong, but Peter’s presence was a comforting balm.

“I—I’ve been feeling a bit down,” you began, your voice shaky. “My grades are okay, but… I’ve been struggling with other things. It’s hard to explain.”

Peter’s expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding as he reached out and took your hand. His touch was warm, a stark contrast to the cool night air. “Y/N, you don’t have to face this alone. If something’s bothering you, you can always talk to me. I care about you, and I want to help however I can.”

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you struggled to maintain your composure. Peter’s concern was more than just friendly; it was deeply personal and sincere. You had always admired his kindness, but tonight it felt like something more.

“I didn’t want to burden you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I know you’ve been so busy…”

Peter shook his head, his gaze intense yet gentle. “You’re never a burden. You’re my best friend, and you mean a lot to me. No matter how busy I am, you’re important. If you’re struggling, let me be here for you.”

Tears finally escaped your eyes, but they were accompanied by a soft, grateful smile. You looked at him, feeling a rush of emotions. “Peter, I—”

Before you could finish, Peter cupped your face gently in his hands. The moonlight seemed to make the moment even more magical as his lips brushed against yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was soft and sweet, filled with unspoken promises and emotions that had been building up between you. When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours with a mixture of hope and longing.

“You mean so much to me, Y/N,” he murmured. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a long time. I care about you more than just as a friend.”

Your heart raced, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The relief and happiness you felt in that moment made everything seem right. “Peter, I—”

He pressed his forehead against yours, his gaze never leaving yours. “Just know that I’m here for you. Whatever happens, you’re not alone.”

In the quiet of the night, with the city lights shimmering around you, everything felt perfect. You felt a sense of peace you hadn’t known in weeks. Peter’s embrace was a comforting reminder that, no matter what, you would face everything together.

Thank you for reading!

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG SUB + Article Translation] Delo's Personality of the Year Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

The frontman of the band Joker Out, Bojan Cvjetićanin, is a candidate for Delo's Personality of the Year. The energetic singer and talented lyricist remains grounded despite his popularity.

Original article written by Urša Izgoršek for Delo. English translation by @kurooscoffee and a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by @flowerlotus8

All ten nominees are listed in this article.

Full article below the cut.

Delo's Personality of the Year

Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

PHOTO: Bojan Cvjetićanin says that his generation faces many unresolved questions that cause anxiety. PHOTO: Črt Piksi

The frontman of the band Joker Out, Bojan Cvjetićanin, is a candidate for Delo's Personality of the Year. The energetic singer and talented lyricist remains grounded despite his popularity.

With Joker Out, Cvjetićanin has achieved incredible popularity on the European music scene, surpassing any other Slovenian pop or rock band to date. They've exceeded their own dreams and broken language barriers, with fans singing along in Slovenian wherever they perform, from Dublin to Milan and Oslo. As an energetic singer and gifted songwriter, Bojan represents a voice for the young generation, which is declaring that their time is coming: The game of hatred is your thing, thank you very much, don't count on us.

The 25-year-old musician, along with his bandmates Jure Maček, Kris Guštin, Jan Peteh, and Nace Jordan, has risen to stardom in just over two years while staying firmly grounded. "Sometimes even we ask ourselves how we manage it. We talk a lot with our producer Žare Pak, who we could call our sixth member. I think I, as well as the others in the band, have normal life habits. None of us is prone to any excesses, so we don't have to hold ourselves back in that sense. I live the way I have always lived, basically," says Bojan Cvjetićanin, who recently told Vikend magazine that he is glad that sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll are not the guiding principles of their band. Joker Out is driven forward primarily by the enjoyment of performing on stage, meeting new people, and creativity.

What Bojan enjoys writing about the most is love, and he uses this emotion to describe the relationships within the group, too. "It's a partnership between five people, which is very complex. We spend a lot of time together, know each other well, and have learned when not to push certain buttons or when to offer someone a shoulder—not to cry on, but to vent." However, he also says there is nothing wrong with men showing emotions.

We briefly met with Bojan at Kino Šiška the day after returning from a concert in Zagreb and before heading to Maribor and Vienna, where Joker Out had two more sold-out concerts. That evening, when he could have taken a breather, Bojan also took the time to perform with the Police Orchestra at a concert titled Slovenia Breathes 0.0, because he likes to support causes he finds important.

One such cause was a concert aimed at improving the treatment of women with gynecological cancer. Cvjetićanin is compelling on stage and also when he talks about always adhering to the 0.0 rule behind the wheel. "My parents instilled in me the mindset that you don’t want to carry the weight of something going wrong because of one beer. I always called a taxi since I know people who have been deeply affected by the reckless actions of drunk drivers."

Life Motto: Do what you believe in, and trust the people you love.

The verse written in the introduction is from their hit 'Carpe Diem', with which they performed at Eurovision, and the song contains another meaningful thought: "We'll dance all night long/We'll love each other and play/As if we'll be gone tomorrow" Young people face an uncertain future, and Bojan says his generation has many worries due to rapid changes.

"We are confronted with many unresolved questions, more than ever before. They create unease, anxiety, and I think all of this can be felt. On the other hand, young people are treated as fully responsible global citizens, yet youth is often mentioned in a derogatory sense, as if it’s not yet our time to get involved in what's happening and we should just wait a little longer."

He never considered building a career outside Slovenia:"I always imagined a musician's life in the style of Tomi Meglič. Tomi was my alpha and omega. Only later, when I started writing in my mother tongue, Serbian, I began to think about the possibility of performing in the former Yugoslav region. As a teenager, my dreams were limited to Slovenia, and even that would've been more than enough for me," says the musician, who's grateful for the safety and many other aspects of living in Slovenia.

However, it seems that audiences abroad want to keep listening to them, and on their brand-new album 'Souvenir Pop', Bojan sings in three languages: Slovenian, Serbian, and English.

Žare Pak, producer of the band Joker Out

Žare Pak PHOTO: Jože Suhadolnik

I met Bojan Cvjetićanin five or six years ago when we were working on the song 'Gola'. For about three months, I put him through a vocal "torture", but I knew we could make something out of this boy. He is completely devoted to music, it’s in his blood, and he’s a great creator.

I see him the way most people who like him see him: he doesn’t act. He’d rather focus on discovering himself than playing a role. He's a very good person and also very intelligent. His charisma is connected to this.

Sometimes I tell him: Lucky you, whatever you do, even if it's wrong, you’ll fix it with this smile of yours. His smile is a powerful weapon. What’s amazing about Bojan is that he can make everyone feel like he has a personal relationship with them. When he’s on stage, everyone in the audience feels like he’s singing just for them. But that’s who he is. And because of people like Bojan, I’m happy to be in this profession.

[linawritesficsies]

s.s. | gentle distraction

a/n: watching tvd for the umpteenth time makes me more obsessed with stefan so here's another one shot. it's also inspired in one of my fav stydia (teen wolf) scenes.

warnings: inappropriate language, mentions and/or descriptions of blood, injuries, death, anxiety, panic attack. some details may not be 100% accurate. english is not my first language. not my gif!

stefan salvatore x afab!reader.

summary: you are attacked by the katherine pierce and your worries and fears manifest in the way of a panic attack, but stefan comforts you in a very unexpected yet unique way.

🚫do NOT copy, translate or put my work thru an AI.

You got up startled and breathed heavily. Your eyes took some seconds to adjust to the lack of light in your room. Well, to be more precise, the room you had been occupying at the Salvatores’ Boarding House for a couple of weeks now. You took a glance at the clock on the nightstand: 3 A.M. Cursing to yourself, you laid down on the bed again. You hadn’t had any decent amount of sleep since the Masquerade Ball; the night you’d thought it was just about going out with your friends, but it ended up being a truly near-death experience. And obviously, your brain chose the quiet and lonely nights to make you revive all those memories.

Caroline, your closest friend, has tirelessly begged you and your group of friends to go to the Masquerade Ball at the Lockwood’s Mansion. She had recently begun dating Tyler so she wanted to make a good impression on his parents by taking all of you to the charity event that they were organizing together with the Founder's Council.

“Say again, please, how could I, that I’m not part of the Founding Families, help you look good in front of your boyfriend’s parents?”, I questioned her while we got our coffee cups from the counter at this new small shop that opened near our school.

“Well, Tyler, Stefan, Damon, and Elena have to go due to the obvious reason, Bonnie has accepted and Matt can’t make it due to his work shift. I don’t want you to feel left out”, she casually replied before giving her coffee a sip. “Besides, the more people I bring, the better the Lockwoods will look in front of other powerful families thanks to me!”

I’ve never understood how Caroline math works.

“Care, don’t worry about me. No offense taken. I have no problem with staying at home, eating pizza, watching a mov..” My speech slowed down as she frowned at me. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“Y/N, you know I don’t take a ‘no’ for an answer. Come on! It will be so much fun!”

Little did she know…

You were on the dancefloor with your girl friends, Caroline, Bonnie and Elena, moving your bodies to the beat of this new party song. You were having a really good time. Of course, you’d never admit that to Vampire Barbie (as Damon often called her) because that will surely give her a free pass to drag you to any social event in Mystic Falls.

Speaking of Damon, he was at the Ball too. And so was Stefan. You’d spotted them leaning against a wall, drinking something and chatting among themselves. Your eyes rested on the youngest Salvatore for longer than you may have liked it, but you couldn’t find the strength or the willingness to look away. The black suit he was wearing made him look more handsome than he already was. You had a big crush on him since the day you met, but obviously you haven’t made any moves on him because of Elena. Now that they’ve broken up because she took a bigger interest in Damon, there might be some chance for you.

At some point his eyes found yours and he gave you a sweet smile. You gave him one of yours but then instantly looked away because you didn’t want him to know you were blushing. Probably he couldn’t tell because of the distance, but still. You excused yourself to your friends so you could go and talk to him. Any interaction with him would make coming to the Ball, wearing this long dress and these uncomfortable heels totally worth it.

Suddenly, while you were making your way towards Stefan, the power went off and silence took over the place for a couple of seconds. The people around you started to murmur, asking themselves what was going on. You tried focusing on what you managed to hear so you could find any of your friends and leave the mansion. A horrible sensation took over you.

As you were about to take your phone off your purse to turn on the flashlight, you felt a sharp pain throughout your abdomen and let out a muffled scream.

That’s when the lights were switched on again and you saw what it seemed like a butcher’s knife piercing your middle section. You heard several screams from the people around you and how they started running away. You were losing tons of blood but you couldn’t move due to the shock. You also saw the person who had stabbed you. Elena? No, that couldn’t be true. Physically, it was her; her exact same face. But the clothes were different and there was something in her eyes that wasn’t there before. Evilness.

“An early birthday present for you, Y/N. Enjoy”, she said grinning and then exited herself with supernatural speed.

What the fuck?

You couldn’t think about anything else as you felt all the energy being dragged out of your body and collapsed to the ground. Luckily, before your head hit the floor, somebody caught you in their arms.

“Y/N”, you heard Stefan’s desperate voice. He removed the knife and gave you his blood to heal you. You drank it but the injury was far deeper than what a little of vampire blood could cure, so you were struggling to keep yourself awake. It seems he could sense it as well so he grabbed your face and tried to make you focus on him. “No, no, don’t close your eyes. Look at me!” 

You gathered the almost non-existent strength you had to obey him but you could feel yourself blacking out.

“I can’t. Sorry, Stef…” that’s all you could manage to say and he shook his head.

“Y/N, look at me, don’t fall asleep”, he interrupted you but his voice appeared to be more distant; as if he was talking from the other side of a tunnel. Although your vision was blurry, you saw a second pair of hands pressing something on your abdomen. 

“Stefan, what do we do?” It was… Caroline? 

“We need to get her to the hospital. We’re losing her.”

And then, pitch darkness.

You woke up at the hospital the following day. There was a bandage wrapped all around your abdomen and your mind was foggy. Flashes of the previous night events came and went. Caroline and Stefan knocked on the room door shortly after to see how you were doing. They gave you a ‘Get better soon’ card signed by everyone, including Damon. You could picture him doing it against his will with his typical frown on his face.

“Soooo, are you going to tell me what happened last night?”

“Y/N”, Stefan started talking. “Why don’t we wait until you feel better to give you the details?”

“But, I’m already doing better. Look, I’m not bleeding”, you lifted the sheets that were covering your body to show him your clean bandage. “And I’m also fully awake”, this time you raised your eyebrows.

He squinted his eyes, not fully believing the attitude you were giving him, especially while still lying on a hospital bed. You were spending a lot of time with Damon lately.

“Ok”, Caroline continued. “The one who tried to kill you was Katherine Pierce, Elena’s doppelgänger." You looked at her nodding, as if you understood that word. You had some googling to do as soon as you got home. “And you almost did, your heart stopped for some seconds but the paramedics brought you back with CPR.”

“Why would she do that?”

“We aren’t sure yet”, it was Stefan’s turn. “The strongest theory is that you were used as a distraction. Damon saw Katherine take something from the Lockwood’s mansion and ran away. We need to go back and check what’s missing.”

“That bitch. I’m gonna…”, you started getting up from the bed but Stefan quickly stopped you.

“You are not going to do anything other than recovering. Let us deal with Katherine. We’ll make her pay for this.”

After being discharged from the hospital, Stefan suggested you go live with him and Damon since being alone in your apartment wasn’t a good idea. This way, they could keep an eye on you in case Katherine or any of her minions made an appearance.

However, regardless of who is there to protect you, the atmosphere of paranoia and uncertainty, combined with your insomnia have led you to a dark place. You were so trapped in your own rthoughts that you didn’t realize that you sat up on the bed again and started crying loudly, therefore waking up Stefan.

“Hey, Y/N”, you jumped a little due to his sudden voice. “What’s wrong?”, he asked, sitting on your bed and then cupping one of your cheeks with his hand. 

“Everything”, you chuckled despite the tears.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch…”, you interrupted him. You were growing tired.

“I’m sorry, Stefan, it’s not that I doubt any of you, but Katherine… she is really smart. She has fooled us once and she can totally do it again… I’m…", you tried swallowing the lump in your throat. "I’m afraid to close my eyes and sleep because that way I won’t be aware of her coming in here and finishing me off.”

Stefan could actually see all these negative thoughts come in and out of your head. Your brain was like an engine. And your eyes looked like waterfalls due to your unstoppable tears.

“Or what if…", you continued. "What if I turn into a vampire?”, your breath became unsteadier ; you were panting, “What if I’m already turning into a vampire? You and Caroline… the other day… said I died but then came back. I had your blood in my system when that happened, right?” You were talking so fast that Stefan didn’t even have time to cut you off. “I don’t know, maybe someone secretly gave me human blood while I was sleeping at the hospital so I didn’t notice the transition. I can’t do this, I can’t. I…”, you took your hands to your chest as you felt the beginning of a heart attack.

“Y/N, please. Look at me", he cupped both of your cheeks with his firm hands and looked deeply into your eyes. "I need you to breathe with me. Focus on my voice”, he started inhaling and exhaling for you to copy him but it was a failing attempt. You were not paying any attention to him. Your panic attack was at its worst.

“I’m going to die”, you blurted out, with a trembling voice. You repeated that sentence over and over and over.

Stefan knew you suffered from anxiety but he didn’t imagine you (or has never seen you) like this. He mentally cursed himself for not previously asking you what to do in these situations. He tried the breathing exercise once again but it still didn’t work. He tried mentioning people and things you loved, happy things, so you'd rather focus on them, but it was also a dead end. You were absolutely trapped in your overwhelming suffering. He grew more desperate. Then, a quick memory flashed through his brain. He once read in a book that holding one’s breath may stop a panic attack. He didn’t think that covering your mouth and nose with his hand would work, so he crashed his lips onto yours. He didn’t know how you would react, but it was better than doing nothing.

Your eyes opened widely but then closed again. You were too shocked to do anything else, but still managed to enjoy the kiss. Slowly but surely, the storm inside of you died down. He was the one who pulled back after some seconds. You stayed frozen in your place, with a confused expression.

You wanted to ask him what that was for, but the words got stuck on your throat. Stefan seemed to read your mind.

“I once read somewhere that holding your breath could stop a panic attack”, he gave you a concerned but loving look. “And when I kissed you, you stopped breathing”. You stared deeply at him after his explanation.

“Did I?”, you added with a shaky and sore voice.

“You did”, he smiled softly, also lowkey shocked about how much he liked to kiss you.

You thanked him with a sincere whisper. You didn’t want to move yet, in case of breaking the spell. Of this being a dream and waking up during the best part. Your heart was still racing but now for a different reason. The good kind of racing. He also stayed there close to you. 

He continued to ask you if you were feeling better; you nodded in response. Your cheeks flushed. He started getting up from your bed to give you some space but you didn’t want that. You wanted to be as close as possible.

“Stefan, wait… Can you stay with me, please?, you pouted. Your voice came off soft and innocent. “Until I fall asleep, at least”.

“Yeah, sure. For as long as you need.”

You smiled while you moved a bit to make room for him on your bed. He laid down, resting his back on the wooden bedpost and opened his arms, inviting you to snuggle on his chest. Once you did, he wrapped his arms around your back. Your legs were also tangled with his. The sound of his heartbeat worked as a lullaby, relaxing every muscle on your exhausted body. You felt the tension and fear melt away. Your now steady breath mixed with Stefan’s. 

“Thank you for staying”, you told him, your voice was barely audible.

“Always”, he murmured while one of his hands played with your hair and the other one stroked your back gently. You could get used to this. A faint smile curved your lips as you thought to yourself: Bring it on, Katherine. I’m not afraid of you anymore. Well, you were a little bit. But with Stefan’s comforting presence, you felt you could overcome whatever evil plan she had for you.

Your eyelids started to feel really heavy with the weight of last weeks' worries. You were slowly drifting closer and closer to sleep. The last thing you recall is Stefan placing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Rest well now, Y/N. I won't let anyone or anything hurt you again. I promise”, he whispered although he was pretty sure you couldn’t hear him due to your finally peaceful slumber.

that's the end, my friends. i'd love to read some feedback :) and, of course, if you have any request, leave them on my asks <3

[machveil]

Beautiful, cute, dulzura, A quick question, do you have any advice for drawing? I see your drawings and I just fell in love with them, I just started drawing again but it's difficult...

I don't know, sorry, English is not my first language, using translator jiji 🤎🍁

(note: this post is long, grab a snack lol) ah! no problem, don’t worry about the translator haha (pinterest link - this is my masterboard for human references! I’ll talk about it more below)

I think my best advice for anyone wanting to draw is to break down your piece into shapes! (also, depending on your style, using different line weights)

from my experience, while looking at the whole reference is good, it’s easier to break down individual parts! while some parts can look complicated, a lot of things can be broken down into triangles, squares, and circles (or half circles)

I focus on character art, so I’ll be speaking about that - but it can applied to scenery and objects too. a lot of characters clothes are broken up into colored articles already - in the top reference, Ghost has a red bandanna on his arm! that bandanna helps break up his arm: the top near his shoulder is triangular, the bandanna itself is overall rectangular, and the bottom of his sleeve is a square

of course, depending on how you’re posing the character it can change the angle of what we’re seeing - there’s also an accommodation that your art probably won’t be a 1-to-1 copy with your reference. Ghost’s right arm (bandanna) has a white rolled up sleeve - while the model’s sleeve is square, I prefer to draw rolled sleeves more triangular

I think line weight is also important depending on your style! I prefer thicker lines around the entire character, and defining qualities also get thicker lines

I like thinner lines inside the character to help define dimensional shape and form. I use thicker lines on the inside of the body if there’s a shape/area that’s more in the foreground - example: König’s chest and midsection have thick line art to help differentiate from his left arm (behind his body)

I know a common piece of advice is to use real life references, and I agree… but, I never hear people talk about how to use references in a way that actually helps (“just draw from real life”, or “drawing with a reference is good practice”). I experienced that and wasn’t able to take anything away for years!

within the past year or so I seriously took a look at how using references can help me, so I want to try and talk about that - if I had trouble learning from references I’d wager someone else has

here’s my best example of using a reference because I actually remembered to! I labeled the figure to make it a little easier to follow

(1) my first tip is using a reference to figure out how the body ‘flows’. the human body has a lot of soft, rounded lines when you look at a picture - very few things are legitimately straight and sharp. I used the reference specifically to figure out how men’s pecs are shaped (of course, this is just one reference… because this is my headcanon for König’s body type haha)

(1) looking at references can help you understand how muscles move. in the reference with the woman, you notice how her right arm (down) muscles are layered - the shape portrayed by the reference lets you see how an arm’s muscles might be laid out in that position

(2) my second tip from the König reference is to look at negative space! the highlighted red portion between the arm and midsection is roughly the same negative space as the reference. if you’re using a reference and something feels off with the placement of what you’ve drawn I’d recommend looking at the space your reference takes up

(2) the negative space trick helps me line up where proportions should meet up - the distance between her arms lets me gauge how the rest of her body should be proportioned

(2) while it doesn’t match up 1-to-1 with the reference when layered overtop, it doesn’t have to! the negative space between the arms was enough for the sketch to mimic what the reference looks like. art doesn’t have to be a 1-to-1, but negative space can help you figure out ‘why does that arm look funny?’, “that arm looks funny because, compared to the negative space of your reference, it’s too (far away/close) to the body.”

(3) my last tip is the simplest, so I’ll just be referring to the König figure! when using references I look to gauge the distance between different body parts - it helps me get more realistic proportions. the bit I specifically compared to was the man’s stomach placement compared to his waist. I didn’t copy it 1-to-1 because I like the idea König has more of a tummy, but the reference allowed me to figure out an anatomical placement for where König’s stomach would be compared to his waist

I hope my advice wasn’t terrible haha everyone’s art journey is different, but these are tips I would have liked to know a few years ago (specifically the reference material ones lol). I wanted to focus more on the reference material because when people say ‘just use a reference, it’ll help’ it didn’t do it for me

I personally needed a more in depth explanation on why I would use a reference, what should I be looking at - because just drawing a person doesn’t necessarily help, and how should I be learning from it - I accidentally taught myself negative space before I knew what it was

but uhm… yeah, I hope this wasn’t awful! good luck on everyone’s art journeys, just remember that you’re allowed to take your time and try different things

if you guys have any other questions about my art feel free to jump into my inbox; process wise, inspiration, etc - I’ll answer anything I can<3

[satellite-evans]

poets & soulmates

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Harry doesn’t know how to react when he learns that you don’t believe in soulmates.

Word count: a cute little blurb

Warnings: angst? Flufffff

A/N: heyyyyy!!!!!

It’s been ages since I last posted a fic, so I am soooo excited to post my very first Harry Styles one! I really hope you guys like it, I’ve worked on this for a while, so let’s see how it goes. I’m very excited and nervous to post this, but I am so happy to be back! Please tell me what you guys think and give me as much as feedback as you can so I can grow and be a better Harry fic writer for you all xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

~

If you had to describe the love you shared with Harry with a poem, you would probably choose the one from Edgar Allan Poe.

“We loved with a love that was more than love.”

It said so much in such few words; the best description of your love for him.

Because it is true, it is more than love. Always had been. If you took the love out of the relationship, you and Harry would be left with so much to survive. There was trust, for example. And also intimacy. Not to forget there was an understanding between you, too, that no one understood. If you were in a room with thousands of people, he would recognize you, every single time. Like you were a shining diamond between rocks. The effect you both had on each other, was beyond explaining in chemistry. Harry could touch you, and the breath that would escape from your lips oh so silently would already expose the effect he had on you.

Harry was no different, either. Seeing you smile proudly when you looked at him, made him turn into dust, that you blew away with your eyes. But he was afraid at first. To love.

He was afraid to love you.

For him, you were a stunning mystery. You carried things deep inside you that no one understood, and Harry was afraid to fail like the others. In his eyes, you were like the ocean and he was just a man who loved the waves but was completely terrified of swimming.

How couldn’t he be? At twenty nine, everyone had an idea in their head about how Harry was in relationships. Some said that he was single because he had commitment issues, others said the reason he was still alone was that he was too much of a playboy.

Yes, he had a few relationships before you and some of them did not end well, but Harry always respected and treated them with his kindness, always wanted the best for them.

He would do everything for his love, for you.

“Hey, love?” He asked you, clearly with hesitation. The way his voice shook a little didn’t go unnoticed by you in his London home where the both of you were lying in his bed. After spring came, Harry offered you to stay with him until summer so the two of you could enjoy long walks in the park with his favorite companion. You never said yes to an offer so quickly before in your life.

“Yes H, everything okay?”

How? How was it that every time Harry wanted to start a subject that was sensitive for him, you already knew by just the way he asked you his first question? Call it magic, call it luck. Harry liked to call it love.

“Do you think we’re soulmates? Like-I mean, we would be together and we will be forever?”

He didn’t know why that question was so important to him, but it was. He wanted to know your opinions and thoughts about the future both of you had. Every time Harry was dreaming about his future and how it would look, he realized you were always there. In the audience when he opened his biggest show ever, in the delivery room when he held his baby for the first time, everywhere. So your answer was very important to him. He wanted- no; he needed to know if he was present in your future as much as you were present in his.

“No, I don’t think we are. But that’s because I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Ouch. That shouldn’t have hurt him, but it did. Blaming you would be pointless. You didn’t believe in the whole idea of soulmates, but that didn’t make him less insecure. He knew it was too good to be true. That you were too good to be true.

The whole aura of the room changed and Harry slowly got up from where he was lying between your legs. You saw that his demeanor changed and that the happy, slightly tired Harry got replaced with a sad Harry.

“Hey, hey what’s that all about? Why the sad face?”

Honesty was one thing you both took extremely seriously. So that’s what you wanted to do this time, too. But without realizing you broke slightly Harry’s heart.

“It’s nothing, really. You don’t have to believe we are soulmates. I don’t know why I’m sad if I am being honest.” He said with a slight smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. He was clearly devastated by your answer.

You sat closer to him on his bed, touched his cheeks with your hands, and stared him deeply into his eyes. Harry already felt his heartbeat going faster. It was going so fast that he thought he was going to have a stroke. He held on to your arm dearly, so if he fainted, you could hold him. Like you always had been.

“I don’t believe in soulmates, and I don’t think that you & I were meant to end up together. What I believe is that we fell in love & that we worked hard for our relationship. I mean, look at you, you’re an amazing person with qualities so great that an individual can only dream of having those. Every woman is lucky to have you. I am from another country and I am younger than you. Remember all the news that they made about us when we first started going out? They told me I was a gold digger, that you were too good for me, that you cheated on me, and so on. But we didn’t listen to any of them. We let our love grow because we knew, H. We knew that what we had was special, and not everybody was lucky enough to feel what we felt. So no, I don’t think we are soulmates. But you are the one for me; Harry. You were in my past when I didn’t even know. You are my person in the present, And you will be in the future. Because I will always, undoubtedly, love you.”

Without waiting for his response, you connected your lips with his. You knew he was sensitive and these bare confessions took a toll on him, so you just kissed him, to let him know it was okay. That you were there for him, always.

“Just give me 3-5 business days, and I’ll come up with even a bigger love confession, promise.”

Harry said, after he broke the bruising kiss.

He wasn’t lying. Harry had no words to say to you. He knew you loved him, but not that much. It was like his brain & heart were on fire and you just put them out with your words. Relief washed over him, and like a cherry on his favorite cake, you kissed him with adoration.

“Oh, I know you will. It’s a known fact that you were always better with words, but just so you know, you don’t have to. I feel your love every time you look at me. Hate to break it to you, but your eyes give it away how much you love me, Styles.”

He didn’t care about the idea of the whole soulmate anymore. He felt so stupid that he was thinking about that. The love that the both of you shared, was more special, and rare. The two of you were even better than soulmates.

“That I do, Y/N. That I do. I love you so fucking much. It sometimes hurts. It hurts not to touch you, not to be near you, not to kiss you.”

He closed the gap between you with a passionate kiss again, that knocked your breath away. Your whole body was on fire, not knowing what to do. With every touch of his on your skin, the fire started to get more and more aggressive. He released your lips, but stayed close, so you could feel his breath on your lips and he could hear your heartbeat going faster.

“I am no poet, Y/N but just know that if I was, you would be my biggest inspiration.”

You looked him in the eyes, trying to control your breathing, but it was a lost cause. His blue eyes were like ice digging into your heart, and the only thing you could do was surrender.

“That might be the best poem I’ve ever heard.”

[edgarbright]

Caleb = Sylus theory

And if that turns out to be incorrect, then renamed as:

My thoughts on Caleb and Sylus!

tl;dr my heart wants Caleb back as a LI and my brain continues to report that Caleb being Sylus makes a lot of sense

General spoiler warning for any game content released up until June 18, 2024. Long post is long and has pictures.

So first things first! I’m going to need everyone to think about Caleb beyond being just our sweet and teasing childhood friend. Because if we viewed the other male leads as plainly as Caleb is often viewed, then Zayne is just a workaholic doctor, Xavier is just a narcoleptic hunter, and Rafayel is just a playful-personality artist.

But we find out Zayne has done work in battle zones as a military medic and we hear how his morals and ethics are held high when organizations like Ever Group try to recruit him. We discover that Xavier is an immortal who has flown across the galaxy in a spaceship and regularly goes toe-to-toe with criminal syndicates and wanderers alike. We learn that Rafayel is a Lemurian, the God of the Sea, and an assassin who carefully and cleverly deals out bloody revenge.

While we don’t have a lot of Caleb content in the first eight chapters and side pieces, there is still a lot of information to work with! Because we know he has been around for years and must be doing something with his time when he’s not talking with MC about coming home.

And one of the clues we’re given is that he is a busy guy. In the character notes, we read that MC doesn’t see Caleb outside of holidays after he became involved with the Aerospace Academy at Skyhaven. He has since become a pilot for the Deepspace Aviation Administration. Then there is their last argument about how they are adults now and they don’t need to keep secrets from each other. But just when Caleb is about to open up, he locks it down. And then he’s gone.

The End? Except I don’t think that’s where his story finishes.

I. Official game descriptions

Caleb: "My childhood friend. Grandma took us in when we were young. Now he works as a fighter pilot for the Deepspace Aviation Administration. Ever since he went to Aerospace Academy in Skyhaven, we don’t often see each other. But we always visit Grandma during the holidays. While he loves teasing me, he’s actually a reliable person whom I trust."

Sylus: "The leader of Onychinus is said to have built his empire on illegal Evol weapons and Protocore deals. He’s the most influential, dominant figure in the N109 Zone. However, he hasn’t been seen for a while."

II. Caleb as a love interest: Brother vs childhood friend

Stating the obvious to get it out of the way: that Papergames had to give Caleb a completely different relationship role with MC in the English-speaking market is akin to a public statement that he is going to be a love interest. They would have saved themselves the trouble by leaving him as brother if he was never going to play a more intimate role with MC.

III. Caleb and MC's lingering connection: the necklace

The “When U come back,” apple-and-dog-tag necklace picked out in a style MC really liked as a present for Caleb before he left for Skyhaven.

The necklace where, in chapter 4.06 ‘Saying Goodbye,’ MC and Caleb share a Kindled moment as we take the necklace from his hand and he leans forward to let us put it on him.

The necklace that Caleb was wearing under the bulk of his jacket when he entered Grandma’s house before the explosion.

The necklace that is nowhere to be seen after the explosion, but suddenly appears on the ground in front of us when MC looks back down. Caleb was wearing that necklace when he entered the house, but here it is now, completely intact. MC’s hands are covered in dirt and ash while the necklace is in clean condition.

Caleb is alive in one way or another. And the necklace, now back in MC’s possession, is a tie that still binds them.

IV. Official Announcement of the Next Male Lead

(Disclaimer: I am only able to go off the English fan translation and google translations so my interpretation is at the mercy of missed nuances from word choice and mis-translations. But we’re just here to be delusional have fun, so play nice!)

During the CBT in 2023, Papergames released this announcement:

Then on February 24, 2024 as part of an apology post to angry Chinese players, Papergames provided a follow-up and official confirmation that hunters will get to meet the next love interest, Qin Che/Sylus, in the next big story update coming this July 2024.

This February announcement does not mention Caleb, but then the original Q&A was clearly only referencing a question regarding a single pre-mentioned person. So between CBT and now, my understanding is that we have only ever been promised one new male lead to top us off at a quartet.

And in that initial announcement in CBT, it continues to strike me as strange that they talk about this mystery man Sylus and then they bring up Caleb. They first talk at length about someone we don’t know at all and then about someone the CBT players were already interested in: our doting brother/childhood friend, someone who clearly likes us, someone whom the MC obviously likes in return, someone with a unique personality from the other LI, and someone we have lost and grieved over and want back.

But the official name of the next male lead is Sylus.

“His identity and your relationship to him,” however, could also suggest that the name “Sylus” may not be his true name. Is there just some guy named Sylus walking around Linkon City or does he become Sylus when associated with Onychinus and when he enters the N109 zone? After all, his identity is a question, it is a mystery, he is mystery, and our relationship to him is a question. Our true relationship to him is in question, because perhaps it is someone we thought we knew but didn’t truly know at all.

V. Sylus: a powerful persona in the N109 zone

As the main story plot progresses and MC sets her sights on entering the N109 zone, she learns that the acquisition of a bold fake identity is a key part to her safety. By the sound of it, even someone like Xavier doesn’t enter as Xavier, but instead as Lumiere as it was Lumiere who was rumored to have caused a mess there recently.

Therefore I’m further encouraged that the name “Sylus” could just be a new identity for someone we already know. Even more so, once ‘Caleb the fighter pilot from the Deepspace Aviation Administration’ has officially been declared dead, the only identity left to him is Sylus.

But strangely enough, after Caleb is gone, even the character description states Sylus hasn’t been seen for a while, either…

VI. Symbols: the jacket and the crow

Caleb is wearing a Deepspace Aviation Administration (DAA) jacket before he begins attending the Airspace Academy at Skyhaven, as seen in the flashback scene. He is still wearing the same jacket on the last day we see him in chapter 4.

Of interest, in chapter 3, we see a crow in the forest watching MC and Xavier after they destroy the developing Aetherwyrm and taking Onychinus's modified Protocore.

Note the diagonal orange bars on the mechanical feature on the crow’s left wing and the design on the jacket on Caleb’s left chest:

The bars mirror one another. The crow seems to have four bars but only three are full whereas the jacket shows four full bars.

Note as well on the jacket's left arm: the crow-like head triangle with the curved wings.

With MC currently entangled in tens of thousands of years of history with three other men, I don’t think this is a game that deals with mere coincidences.

But considering this crow symbol existed on the DAA jacket before Caleb went to the academy teases all types of connections and, most appropriately, spacetime considerations rooted around the Deepspace Tunnel.

VII. The Deepspace Aviation Administration

After completing his training at the Airspace Academy, Caleb rose up to become a pilot in the Deepspace Aviation Administration. His whole job involves flying around and near the Deepspace Tunnel.

The same Deepspace Tunnel that the Linkon broadcaster speaks of so frequently regarding possible Wanderer appearances.

The same Deepspace Tunnel that appeared at the time of the catastrophe.

The same Deepspace Tunnel that Xavier and the Backtrackers took to travel from Philos to Earth.

Just as MC is learning new and weird things about the world while working as a hunter, surely Caleb has come across some new and weird things, too.

MC states that the DAA is secretive but Caleb takes it a step further: it’s not just secretive, it’s spooky! It’s creepy! It’s mysterious! It’s shadowy!

Whatever the DAA is dealing with isn’t, necessarily, normal!

Because while the DAA is of course focused on the Deepspace Tunnel, we have also heard that some of their interests lie in the Lemurian ruins…

So we shouldn’t take the Deepspace Aviation Administration at face value. Honestly, nothing in this game appears to be as good and pure as it seems! It’s suspicious that MC works as a hunter in the Unicorns division when Unicorn was also the code name for her as an experiment. The public face of Ever Group has them seeming to work medical miracles and conducting revolutionary science, but we know they conducted cruel experiments on MC, we have clues they experimented on Lemurians, and it’s revealed they have dark dealings with the Backtrackers.

Note that while Sylus is the leader of Onychinus and built it up as an empire, that doesn’t necessarily mean he is the founder. The Deepspace Aviation Administration could easily have criminal ties of their own or be a cover for a front for their true reason to exist.

But whatever is going on with the DAA, Caleb has been involved in it for many years and has kept it secret from MC this whole time.

VIII. Male Lead Introductions

It feels too strange to think that Sylus will be an entirely new face because not only would that put him at a disadvantage, it would neglect a lot of clues and game features laid out for his association and arrival.

For starters, Xavier, Rafayel, and Zayne are all introduced to MC in the very first chapter. They get faces and little encounters to go along with them.

Meanwhile Caleb is faceless. He is just a voice in chapter 1. But to the MC, it’s the familiar voice of someone she obviously knows and loves and is excited to see again. She has history and memories and a developed relationship with this person.

But even through the teasing affection shared between MC and Caleb over the phone, his face and expressions are left in the dark. He is a mystery to us.

Except… maybe we do see a face of Caleb? In the face of the all-seeing-eye of Onychinus that appears a moment after MC gets off the phone with him.

So, going back to that CBT announcement, Papergames asks if the players found any clues regarding Sylus in the main story… right before they bring Caleb into the conversation, who for all intents and purposes is dead? Whether they were making a hint or not right there it’s too suspicious.

IX. Lore: The Eye in the Sky Watching Over MC

We spot the red eye watching MC on at least three occasions:

[Top left image] At the end of chapter 1: After MC has completed her first day as a hunter and Caleb bids her goodnight after their phone call, she sees the eye for a moment outside her window as the weather begins to turn bad.

[Bottom left image] In chapter 3: MC recalls a reoccurring nightmare when her 7-year-old self was running blindly in pain and fear during the Chronorift Catastrophe. While she initially thinks it is the moon, when she wakes up she realizes it was actually the same eye she saw in chapter 1. Of interest, notice how her description of the eye’s arrival is portrayed rather positively:

Rusty-red rain falls from the sky and seeps into every nook and cranny of the city. I step over the puddles, running away. I sense a powerful force. It's about to burst from my heart. Then the moon appears. Magnificent, it descends before me. It flickers. It seems to be blinking at me.

[Right image] At the Nest in chapter 8: the eye is in a robotic contraption watching events unfold on Hunting Day and when MC is captured.

So it seems this eye has been with her since she was seven years old and it found her before even Xavier did. As an observation vessel, however, it was not able to help her. All it can do is watch. So the question is who has been watching her from the other end? Ever Group? Onychinus? The Backtrackers? Caleb in some form?

X. Caleb is never doing what MC expects

On the phone call in chapter 1, MC thought he would still be in-flight, but he brushes it off by saying they finished early. He uses this surprise “free time” to call her right when she returns home and asks how her first day as a hunter went.

When MC arrives to Grandma’s house in chapter 4, she thought he wouldn’t arrive until the next day at the earliest, but he was already home. He uses this surprise “free time” to cook and have dinner ready for her right when she arrives.

He just always seems to be a step ahead of the MC… for the sake of doting on MC!

But it’s still rather odd that lower-level military personnel would get early clock-outs so conveniently when activity in the Deepspace Tunnel and appearance of Wanderers are on the rise…

And what is he doing that is making him so sleep-deprived?

XI. FM News vs Caleb: Deepspace Tunnel Activity

For the record, all of chapter 1 takes place over a single day. MC starts her morning by receiving her badge; spends the day hunting Wanderers, meeting Xavier, and getting her placement in alpha team; spends the evening with Tara before she meets Rafayel; rushes to her 6pm check-up appointment with Zayne; has a nighttime phone call with Caleb; and spots the eye outside her window before bed.

And from morning to night, the news report and Caleb’s report are complete opposites.

“Hello, Linkon City. DPSC FM here to greet you on this early morning. Did you sleep well last night? Weather's nice today with winds at 5 km/hr. Certain areas have a higher Metaflux index due to the Deepspace Tunnel. Expect Wanderers to appear more often. We would like to thank the hunters in the city for allowing us to live a normal, peaceful life. Next, a detailed report for each district. Areas that are at a "high risk" of being attacked by Wanderers-- All medical personnel, today is going to be another busy day.”

Compared to

MC: "Did you guys encounter any Wanderers in the Deepspace Tunnel? Was it dangerous?" ... Caleb: "All right. It's been peaceful. The field within the tunnel is as stable as it can be. Very few Wanderers. Don't worry." MC: "Really? Every time you tell me not to worry..." Caleb: "Everything else is top secret. My lips are sealed."

Now, it’s entirely possible that he’s lying about the danger in order to make MC feel better, but if he was lying and the situation was more severe, he wouldn’t have gotten off work early and been able to call her.

Which also brings up the question: is he even at Skyhaven or with the Deepspace Aviation Administration at this time...?

XII. Theory Speed Bump: the Exploding House

During the phone call in chapter 1, Caleb sounds very relaxed about MC having become a hunter on her first day. He asks her how it went and when she starts talking about having had some trouble, he teases her to stop--because he knows she did well! They go on to tease each other about when he’s going to next visit and he says a very sweet good night. He doesn’t sound worried for her safety or anxious or anything of the like.

The visit at Grandma’s house in chapter 4 is a little different. He seems more worried.

Caleb shows up a day early—and if he is Sylus, leader of Onychinus who are wildly in-the-know, obviously his connections would have alerted him to the moving activity posing a danger toward MC and Grandma. But considering how well Xavier stays off most radars, the other Backtrackers are quite good at moving in secret, too. Knowing there is danger isn’t the same as knowing where or when exactly it will hit.

From the World Underneath files, Ever Group appears to have lost track of experiment subject “Unicorn,” but they still had tabs on Josephine as one of their former researchers. The files the Backtracker acquired after the explosion that he delivered to the Ever Group’s Raincoat appears to be their confirmation on MC’s identity. Although we’re left listening to the lackey’s discussion, it doesn’t appear that Ever Group intended to do MC harm just yet, but that doesn't mean she couldn't have accidentally been caught up in the explosion, too.

While MC and everyone are at the table eating, the story about the multiple metaflux explosions are shown on the TV.

When MC excuses herself from the table in order to go scout the neighborhood, Caleb, who just voiced concerns for her safety, jumps up and follows her.

Caleb very obviously lies about going shopping (my guy has empty hands when he reappears). He continues to follow her, albeit from a distance as he is not quick enough to get involved in MC’s encounter with the sneaking Backtracker (note how the MC observed that the man sounded much older than he looked).

Although it’s interesting how, after Caleb knows she was attacked and how he stuck by her side as often as he could while they were outside, he enters the house first and leaves her alone outside.

But the only reason he entered the house first and alone was because MC told him to go inside first. He was the one who suggested they return home before Grandma got worried. Whatever danger Caleb was on high alert for, I’m left conflicted if an exploding house was something he considered since it was his idea to return.

His necklace magically appearing in front of MC after the explosion, however, suggests he was involved in the necklace placement in some way.

Also we don't know what his Evol is exactly. Some players have suggested telekinesis or gravity based on how he was able to take the necklace from MC in the flashback. Magnetic force should also be considered, I think, but I won't open that can of worms here. The question is still: how deep does this rabbit hole go? Was Caleb caught in an explosion he was prepared for and escaped or is another force at work here? We know there have been many Rafayels and Zaynes in the timeline. Maybe there are many Calebs, too.

XIII. Grandma's records have no mention of Caleb

Before she took in MC, Josephine states in the World Underneath files that she has never had children before. Meaning Caleb was not in the picture before MC.

In the game character notes, MC says Grandma took both MC and Caleb in when MC was seven years old.

So where did Caleb come from? And what made her take him in, too?

When we are at Grandma’s house, we also see just one picture frame. The only ones in the picture are MC and Grandma.

In all of Grandma’s notes, there is not one mention of Caleb. There is just one instance where it looks like his name ought to be, but the notes trail off instead with an ellipsis.

Did she herself exclude him from her records or was his name purposefully removed?

Nonetheless, I'm sure the leader of Onychinus would value such anonymity, if it were him.

XIV. "A decisive man as always"

At the family meal, MC expresses concern regarding Grandma’s health. Caleb speaks up and shares that he has taken care to see that Grandma is cared for.

When MC, a little peevish-sounding in English, asks him the when and why, all Caleb does is let out a small laugh and goes back to eating.

Grandma notes that she didn’t know about this plan either. "A decisive man as always," she says with a troubled expression.

And thus Grandma has thrown an interesting character trait into the mix as Caleb always seems so laid-back with MC like he’s simply going with the flow of things. Except it’s clear he’s decisive, determined, and taking care of things behind the scenes. And surely that includes taking care of MC.

XV. Sylus's Character

We have two points of concrete information about Sylus.

The first is the game description, which I’ll repeat here: “The leader of Onychinus is said to have built his empire on illegal Evol weapons and Protocore deals. He’s the most influential, dominant figure in the N109 Zone. However, he hasn’t been seen for a while.”

The second is an observation made by Captain Jenna in chapter 3:

"We speculate it’s not about money, given Sylus’s track record," she says.

So Sylus "is said to have built" a whole empire on illegal sales but apparently he’s OK with his sales taking a loss because it’s not about money. We see in several news reports in-game about the amazing medical progress made due to the use of Protocores. Modified Protocores, especially such revolutionary ones made by Onychinus, should easily be worth more than their weight in gold. The one that MC and Xavier take from the forest is even powerful enough to start the revival process of the strongest type of Wanderer.

So we have this mysterious Sylus who has prioritized power and influence over wealth, but what can he possibly do with those if he’s gone AWOL…?

But such a decisive man who has gained authority over the N109 zone likely has everything under control, right?

XVI. Grandma Josephine vs Caleb

In chapter 4 under the title “Secret,” in part due to the mysterious locked box MC receives, we the player (not MC) learn that Grandma had entrusted MC to Zayne if the “worst-case scenario happens.”

But what about Caleb? We know that he is away from home very often so it’s highly unlikely anyone should consider something bad happening to both her and him. The “us” she uses could mean them both, but it seems more likely she meant Zayne’s promise to Grandma and MC (as MC is the beneficiary).

Let’s go back to that family meal conversation and see the follow-up reactions that show some interesting motives:

We have Caleb taking responsibility for family matters, MC and Grandma caught by surprise—then look at what Grandma does: she doesn’t argue with his decision, but instead turns to MC and immediately encourages her to get back in touch with Zayne.

Caleb’s response to that in turn is to suggest that instead of Zayne and MC meeting alone, Zayne should come for a family dinner. Caleb’s reaction feels rather sarcastic with the emphasis on “looong time.” Zayne is given the treatment of, rather than being a family friend, he is more like that kid they used to know back in grade school. Which is true. Zayne has been absent in MC and Caleb's lives for the past 10 years. Zayne hasn’t been in the picture since MC was about eleven years old and it’s been Caleb looking after MC as her childhood friend/brother this whole time.

So it’s no surprise when MC and Caleb are walking back home together that their conversation turns out like this:

"If not me, who could you possibly turn to for…" he begins, then stops. He smiles bitterly, shakes his head, and plays it off.

Is this him choking up on his yearning? Is this him realizing what Grandma tried to do earlier by bringing up Zayne, and realizing there are other people MC can turn to? Is this him realizing MC is right, that he really can’t protect her forever? Is this him realizing he can’t protect her as just Caleb? Or is there something else going on in that head of his?

It seems to me that not only are Grandma and Caleb not working together at this point, despite them both prioritizing MC's safety, Grandma might not consider Caleb outside of being the family cook!

What does Grandma know about Caleb that would make her turn to Zayne instead?

XVII. What Onychinus knows about MC's Aether Core (spoiler: everything)

Summary: This all happened in the immediate aftermath of the Chronorift Catastrophe. Dr. Noah was bought into the picture shortly after Grandma took MC into her home. Around that same time, one of the researchers who experimented on MC joined up with Onychinus. From that point on, all the other researchers started dying or disappearing—except for Grandma Josephine.

Grandma, however, is eventually killed by the Backtrackers hired by Ever Group, who had been looking for details about their missing Unicorn.

MC notes that Grandma didn’t leave any work files at home. Therefore Caleb wouldn’t have learned anything at the home.

But because Onychinus knows everything through that researcher, Sylus also knows everything that happened to MC. He knows what Josephine did. He knows about MC’s condition. He knows about her special heart. He knows about the Aether Core. He knows what dangers might pursue MC.

And what is Onychinus’s main project? Modifying Protocores.

MC learns that the frequency of her heart matches that of the modified Protocore she found in the restricted zone with Xavier. Both her heart and that modified Protocore had been effected by an Aether Core.

The crucial part I’m getting at is that Onychinus already knows about MC before she ever went to the Nest. They have known about her for around 15 years and during all this time Onychinus have never, ever approached or harmed her!

In this Sylus = Caleb scenario, he already has MC (trust me! he pleads), he already has her Aether Core, and he's trying to keep it secret, he's trying to keep her safe.

The other researchers had to die to keep her safe, because the knowledge they held of her would die with them.

"If not for me, who could you turn to for..." Caleb had once started to say, because if not for him, who else could have protected her all this time? Who else would work so tirelessly and decisively to do what needed to be done?

XVIII. Onychinus is not our enemy

One of the reasons I love Love and Deepspace is because the world building and lore are incredibly interesting. But we must use critical thinking because they are also deceptive. So many characters keep treating Onychinus as dangerous, as deadly, but we not only don’t know their true motive, we have no information on what bad things they’ve actually done besides existing outside normal society.

Both Jenna and Xavier tell us that Onychinus's most famous achievement is modifying Protocores. There is no word of Onychinus ever doing direct or indirect harm using these modified Protocores. We don’t even know to whom, exactly, they sell these Protocores—and we know that it’s not about money.

Onychinus is a mystery! What anyone knows about them is all speculation!

Ever Group, meanwhile, has conducted experiments on Lemurians as explored in Raymond's situation and experiments on MC when she was a child. These actions directly resulted in the "death" of MC numerous times and the probable death of at least one Lemurian if not more. In the World Underneath we discover that Ever Group also knows about the Backtrackers and about Philos. Ever Group hired the Backtracker that destroyed MC’s family. They also use Xavier and are plotting to, for lack of a better word, enslave him once they figure out the chemical compound of the medication he and the other Backtrackers use as injections.

It’s not a mistake, however, that Ever Group is praised by the public for their ingenuity and medical advances for the sake of a better society while Onychinus is treated as dangerous renegades.

Then there is also the Deepspace Aviation Administration who are "unraveling the unknown" at the Deepspace Tunnel while fighting Wanderers.

XIX. I promise you’ll see me every day when you wake up ;)

For the longest time I read Caleb's final promise at face value. He was coming back home to visit, so every morning when MC wakes up at Grandma’s house, she’ll see Caleb.

And I know I’m not the only one who shouted OBJECTION after the explosion (All Men Do Is Lie)!

Except waking up doesn’t have to be literal.

In the pre-registration announcement video released November 1, 2023, Zayne says the following line:

“When you and the world wake up, I hope we do not meet again.”

Perhaps MC just needs to wake up to the truth—the truth of what happened to her before she met Caleb and Zayne and Rafayel and Xavier, the truth of what Grandma and the scientists did to her as a child, the truth… of what she might find in the N109 zone, where Onychinus is, where the question to Sylus and her relationship with him will be answered…

When MC learns the truth, when she opens her eyes to the real world, she will see Caleb again.

(She will get to see him every day just like he promised.)

XX. Theoretical consideration: we’re in a time loop with possible time travel

If there are multiple timelines, it’s possible that the Sylus-Caleb we eventually meet isn’t the Caleb who entered that house before the explosion. They could be the same but different. Perhaps Caleb in one timeline died in that house while a Caleb in another timeline did not. Perhaps the necklace we picked up belonged to a different Caleb.

Because let’s be real, everything is a bit of a mess now: Dawnbreaker and Zayne sharing dreams, Xavier as an immortal alien on a completely different planet, and Rafayel has a millennia of emotional baggage to unpack and a lost civilization he has yet to revive.

There are also the rhythms in which the characters are living in their respected timelines. We have Xavier the immortal who has witnessed the many lives of MC living and dying tragically and being reborn again and again. We have Rafayel who is in a matched reincarnation cycle with MC where he seems to meet her in each life, but she has forgotten him while he may or may not have forgotten her. We have Zayne who is in an unmatched reincarnation cycle with MC where he may or may not meet her in each life, but he sacrifices himself for her sake at each end.

Let's not overlook the possibility of an actual time traveler with Sylus. Perhaps even one who has been looking for a timeline where he can keep MC safe. After all, coming late into the game, Sylus will need to have a new spin to his myth and connection with MC if he's going to compete!

Plus Caleb is also represented by the apple, the forbidden fruit: take even the smallest bite and be banished from paradise. But a bite of the apple also wakes one up to the truth, to the sense of shame, to desire, to sin, to love…

"I promise you’ll see me every day when you wake up," he said.

(And I’m a fool who wants to believe him 🍎)

[smokingasters]

An excerpt from Psycho Pass Asylum- Restaurant De Campagne. Translated into English by me. It follows Kagari’s story about how he grew interested in cooking “natural” food. The narration is in flashback and serves as a prequel to S1.

Happy Halloween 🎃 (Dividers by @cafekitsune)

✴️ If you copy and repost this anywhere else, I expect you to credit me and link it back to my blog. Please don’t repost without credit, thanks ☺️ (reblogs are welcome!)

I have been helping out in the restaurant for more than a month...

That morning, Kagari was busy in his single room in the Enforcer's dormitory of the Public Security Bureau building. As it was exactly one month later and his salary had been paid, Kagari could not wait to set up a kitchen in his room to cook. On the cooking table were piles of various natural ingredients that Mitsuha, the owner of the restaurant had given him.

Due to the series of unfortunate incidents involving the recent contamination by foreign substances, many customers grew afraid of consuming natural ingredients and had cancelled their orders. That’s why Kagari was able to obtain these rare natural ingredients.

He opened the door of his room and pasted a sign on the door that said: "Yummier than food prepared by automatic processors".

"Alright!"

It was Kagari's day off. His day off at the PSB coincided with Campagne's day off, so he didn’t have to go to help at the restaurant either. Although he had something to do in the afternoon, he had the whole morning to himself. Kagari wanted to review the cooking skills he learned from Mitsuha last month. However, the food prepared by a latent criminal could not be served to the guests of Campagne, so his food could only be served to his colleagues, the other Enforcers.

"Yo, Kagari, what are you upto?"

The first person to pass by his room was the Enforcer Kogami Shinya. The top two buttons of Kogami's shirt were undone, his tie hung loose, and he held a cigarette between his lips and a lighter between his fingertips. After lighting the cigarette, Kogami took a puff of smoke.

"Hey Ko-chan! Do you want to eat lunch with me?"

"Hmm? Ah, although I don't care whether I eat or not... but you make it look like a spread from 'The King's Restaurant'.” Kogami Shinya, his senior, an Enforcer from Division 1 uttered with a wry smile.

Ko-chan was originally an Inspector and was a classmate of Ginoza-san when they were students, graduating as a topper from the academy. As an Inspector, he also supervised Tot-san (Masaoka) and several others. Kagari didn't know why Kogami became an Enforcer. Enforcers usually don't talk about their past and don't pry into each other’s lives.

It's only when they talked about topics related to books that Kagari could get a glimpse of Kogami's past.

"Eh, The King's Restaurant? What is that?" Kagari asked.

"A fairy tale I read as a child. The protagonist of the story is a wilful childish king. The beginning of "The King's Restaurant" is a bit like what you are doing now. The king opened a restaurant in his castle, but because his cooking was terrible he received no customers. After a long time, a rabbit appeared and ordered a salad of roses. A butterfly also ordered a frog's tears soup from him and screamed in panic. There was also a frog who ordered a fried snake. It was an absurd story. The snake put on its own clothes, lit the fire and jumped into the oil, saying "Ah, the temperature is just right", and was fried until it was completely cooked. In the end, the frog swallowed the snake whole. But the end revealed that everything was a dream.”

"Why does this story sound like a hallucination caused by drugs?"

"Doesn't it?" Kogami smirked. His usually sharp gaze and closed off expression softened as he spoke about books.

"Fairy tales and fiction not only teach morality, but also contain an absurd and unrealistic narrative. I prefer them to rigid and preachy books. My favourite story in this book is called The Greedy King—

Don't eat too much at once!

Paper thin rice crackers

Taro cakes two centimetres thick

Carrots shredded needle thin

Remember to eat everything!

"I miss the rhymes my mother wrote. When I was a child, I often asked her to recite them to me."

Hearing Ko-chan becoming nostalgic, Kagari thought to himself that Ko seemed to have been raised by a loving parent.

These were the memories of almost everyone who grew up in Japan when they were young. But Kagari didn't know what it felt like to be loved unconditionally.

Back then, he was like an untamed animal when he raged and trashed the isolation unit. The staff tried to treat him like a human, but in the end he was still too arbitrary. He was lucky that they did not execute him.

"He is still a child, there is still a possibility..."

Tch. If I had heard such words back then, I would have made their lives even more miserable.

My views have changed. I think there is still a lot of good in this society despite the Sibyl System.

It’s just that I don’t fit in. When I think about the past, I feel ashamed and hurt. I repeat and regret my mistakes. But in the end I still forget everything. People are like that.

No. If I'm in a bad mood, the food I cook will taste bad. I should think of something happy...

"Ko-chan, let's make up a rhyme just for fun." Kagari said.

"Even though you brought it up, forget it." Ko-chan's reply surprised him.

"The food described in a story is often inspired by the author's own imagination, because you can never taste that kind of food in reality. That's good. The delicious food you read about is something you can never taste. That’s rather profound, right?”

The things Kogami says can make one feel there’s a deeper implication in his words.

“Things that cannot be obtained are valuable precisely because they are unattainable.” Ko-chan murmured.

"Is that so? Then what would you like to order?" Kagari chuckled.

"Let me think...I want to have a hamburger!"

"Eh, are you sure? That doesn’t sound like a challenge."

"You don't understand, Kagari," Kogami shook his head helplessly, "A real hamburger is not a simple dish. Perfectly toasted buns, the crunch of fresh lettuce, refreshingly sweet and sour tomato slices, topped with slightly charred fragrant onions; the 100% beef hamburger grilled on the iron skillet, with salt and pepper to bring out the full flavour of the meat and ah, cheese is not bad either, rich cheddar cheese is the best. It’s utterly satisfying to wrap all into a burger, hold it with both hands and eat it in big bites".

A slightly wicked smile appeared on Kogami’s face. As Kagari listened to him, his stomach began to growl.

"Hamburgers are delicious because they have layers of flavour. So, can you make it for me?"

Tsk~ Just do it, don’t be afraid.

Kagari quickened his pace and headed for the kitchen.

Ko-chan was the only person who came to his “restaurant” that morning. Kagari started with the hamburger meat and grilled it to medium.

My interest in the novels chiefly lies in more PP world building and having more input from the OG cast clears my hue.

And since I’m always looking forward to know more about Kogami’s thoughts, this excerpt was heartwarming. We don’t get much info about Tomoyo-san, Kogami’s mom, so knowing that he recalls that specific time with her is endearing.

Kagari is also a special character for me, I don’t think I could ever get over his death in S1. I frankly felt that his death was pointless, he should have continued on.

Also Kogami’s love for hamburgers? 👀 Maybe it’s just me or does it sound suggestive?

I hope you all enjoyed this little excerpt and I wish you a Happy Halloween 🎃

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

love bites, love bleeds

pairing: re6 chris x reader

cw: p in v (unprotected! wrap it before you tap it, folks!), mentions of blood, medical stuff, death, needles, mention of piers :(, brief mentions of body and weight, angsty sex

summary: very vague about how you met chris in fic (but imagining reader was experimented on in china during the events of re6, and is saved by chris), you patch up each other's wounds and then have sex

a/n: in my angsty era (always, mentally, this is what happens when i "write for myself"), also i played re6 not even that long ago but i straight up forget half of what happens so hopefully this makes sense still, and yes, title after the def leppard song 'love bites' (which oddly enough reminds me of my irl father, but we're going to ignore that bc it slaps)

wc: 2.7k

I feel sorry for all the men who died believing in you.

Piers, I feel sorry, too. Chris sighed, fist hitting the wall softer than the last time. 

“I’m sorry. I feel like it’s my fault,” you say.

“It’s not.”

“If you hadn’t stopped to help me, you could’ve-”

“Don’t. This is the job. We’re supposed to protect people.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. He was right, at least in theory, the BSAA’s mission is to stop bio-terrorism, and the agents who go into the field know that they might not come back, but it doesn’t make their lives disposable. They were just as valuable as you. It could’ve been you, maybe should’ve been. Chris lost the last member of his team to save you, a woman he doesn’t even know. 

Once he calmed down a bit, finally taking a seat next to you, you held out your hand, unsure of its use, and said, “I know I’m not… anyone to you, but I owe you my life and if I can do anything to help, I will.”

“Thank you,” he said, grabbing your hand in acknowledgment, “I appreciate your kindness.”

He let go of your hand and stood up. 

“Chris?” You said. 

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said. I know you’re more experienced in these things than I am, and I don’t know how much help I can be, but at the very least, if you want someone to talk to, I’m here.”

He smiled, small, but real. “Me too,” he said.

You couldn’t tell if it was just a courtesy, but nonetheless, you accepted. 

“We should get out of here,” he said, “Get to some place safer. We can get patched up while we wait for evac to come.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

He held out his hand to help you up and you took it like a promise, a token of friendship. 

Staying in Lanshaing was not an option. Chris was able to get you both to Beijing where it was safer. You found a place to stay the night in a tourist-friendly area, since neither of you spoke any dialect of Chinese. As it turned out, Chinese McDonald’s is different from American McDonald's and quite tasty, especially after not eating for at least 24 hours. Its hours are similar to that of the operating hours in America, though, which was convenient. 

You assumed the language barrier would not be as much of a problem since most of the people in the city spoke quite a bit of English, but somehow your words got lost in translation and you ended up in a hotel room with one bed, rather than two. With all the hotel staff had gone through that day, you felt it would be rude to complain and ask for another room. Chris agreed. All you both wanted was sleep. You’d sleep on the floor if you had to. 

“How about we wash up a bit and then patch you up?”

You stood up—or tried to—limping towards the bathroom to shower. 

“You need help walking?”

“Do you mind?” you asked, holding onto the wall to keep yourself steady. 

“It’s not a problem,” he said, swiftly making his way to your rescue. He let you put your weight on him. He didn’t even break a sweat, and taking one look at his muscular physique, it made sense. You barely weighed anything to him. Especially since you’d been surviving off scraps for the last few weeks.

“Are you able to shower on your own?” he asked. 

“I think so.” Really, you didn’t think so, you just hoped so, feeling awful about the thought of Chris having to wash your naked body after all he’d done for you. Guilt flowed through your veins along with whatever they’d injected you with to stop the infection that tried to take over your body. You didn’t need shame to accompany it. You felt like a middle-schooler again, scrutinizing your acne in the mirror, except the marks on your body were gashes from claws and bruises from a fall you barely survived.

“Okay. I’ll wait out here for you.”

You shut the door, but didn’t lock it, preparing for what you knew was inevitable. You slipped on the tile, knocking over the shampoo and conditioner and making a ruckus. 

“Are you okay?” Chris called, somewhat panicked. 

Hearing you whimper in pain, he opened the door. 

“I’m sorry for barging in, but-”

“It’s okay,” you said with tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry I’m basically helpless on my own.”

Chris helped you up, trying not to touch—or even look—at the most intimate parts of your body. 

“It’s okay to need help. I shouldn’t have let you go in here alone. I just wanted you to have some privacy, but I think I made the wrong call.”

He left out the ‘as usual’ part of the statement, but you could hear it in his tone. He’d lost so many men, some he couldn’t recall the names and faces of, that you were a consolation prize – not even a prize, really, saving your life was something that allowed him to pretend it was worth the sacrifice. You knew, counting the numbers, that you were not worth the sacrifice.

“It’s okay. I hope it’s not too awkward for you.”

“No, no, with the things I’ve seen, a naked woman is not even close to the most gruesome.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be an insult.”

You tried not to let yourself get flustered. But what else was there to feel? You swore you saw a hint of attraction peek through the grief in his eyes.

“How about I hold you up while you scrub yourself down?”

“Sounds good.”

Your team effort was successful. You were much cleaner than before. Chris grabbed you a towel and wrapped you in it before walking you back into the bedroom to get you patched up. 

“Do you not want to shower first?” you asked.

“No, my mission is to get you to safety, so you’re my priority.”

You felt guilty, but knew Chris well enough by now—even though you’d only met him hours ago—to know that he wouldn’t back down on this one, so you didn’t argue. He refused to acknowledge that his stubbornness was his fatal flaw.

He grabbed an antiseptic and a cloth and said, “This is probably going to hurt a bit, but it’ll just be for a second.”

“Okay,” you said, though you knew your wavering tone made your nerves known. 

He pressed the towel to your skin, being as gentle as possible, but it stung. You winced, unable to control your reaction to the stinging pain.

“You’re doing great,” he reassured you, and it should have gone to your brain or your wounds or your heart, anywhere else than where you felt it. Between your legs.  

Chris wrapped your wounds in gauze and gave you over-the-counter painkillers, the best he could manage. 

Chris was able to shower on his own, and you couldn’t help but be a bit jealous that he got to see you naked, and you didn’t get to see him in the same state. 

You waited for him to come back, sprawled out on the soft duvet, still wearing your towel when he returned. 

“Do you need help treating those wounds?” you asked.

“Not sure. I’m going to try to do it myself, but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. I’ll be right here. I’ll turn away, though, for privacy.”

“Appreciate it.”

You could hear him grunting in frustration, trying to patch himself up. 

“Are you okay?”

“Any chance you can help me? I’ve got most of it done. There’s just a spot on my back that I can’t reach.”

“Yeah, of course. Mind if I turn around?”

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ve got underwear on, so you don’t have to see anything too graphic.”

“I don’t think looking at a naked man would scare me, but this is probably less awkward.”

He directed you to the spot on his back in question, and you helped him bandage it. 

“Do you have a medical background?”

“No. Why?”

“You’re pretty good at this,” he said as you finished up.

“Thanks. I think it’s all the years I spent taking care of kids. They get a lot of boo-boos.”

“Are you a mom?”

“No, no way, not ready for that yet. I’ve just had jobs as a nanny and a teacher.”

“Saving the world one boo-boo at a time.”

“Well, it’s a little bit easier with them. You just put a bandaid on it and kiss it all better.”

“If only you could kiss it all better.”

“I can try.”

He laughed. “You’re welcome to give it a shot.”

You couldn’t tell if he was flirting back or joking in a friendly manner, but you gave him a kiss over his bandage regardless.

“All better?” you asked. 

“A little, but if you could hand me the Advil, that’d be great.”

You obliged with his request, handing him the bottle. He took two down his through without any liquids to wash it down.

“Do you have any extra clothes?” you asked.

“Unfortunately, no. Do you?”

“No.”

“They might have robes somewhere in here… or we can try to wash your other clothes. It might take awhile, though.”

You sighed. “I think my underwear is the only thing without blood on it.”

Ironic, you thought, considering how often your underwear was the only bloody article on your person. Finally, a pair was spared. 

“Did you leave it in the bathroom?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was going to go get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks.”

You were a little bit nervous about the idea of Chris holding your used panties, but this was a unique scenario. He returned with a pink thong, which he handed to you, clearly trying not to touch it too much. 

“You act like it’s a biohazard. It’s just panties.”

“I’m not afraid of your panties. I just wanted to be respectful.”

But, Chris, would it really be so disrespectful if you just-? 

You slipped on your underwear casually with a ‘thank you’ thrown his way. 

You were already in the sheets when he came to bed. He climbed in hesitantly, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between the two of you. There could only be so much distance, though, when Chris took up such a significant portion of the bed—he’s a large man, nothing he can do about it. 

You found yourself getting closer to him, until you were breathing in the same air, mouths nearly touching. He captured your lips in a kiss. And you accepted it like a gift. 

“Tell me when to stop,” he said.

“I don’t want you to stop. I wanna forget about everything right now.”

Me, too, he thought.

“Fuck me until I forget,” you said. Fuck me until I forget the fluorescent lights of the lab, fuck me until I forget the man’s face when he tied me down, fuck me until I forget the prick of needles and the smell of death.

Chris laid there, silent, mouth moving, but unable to form words. One of his hands cupped your cheek and the other trailed down your arm—respectfully. You didn’t want it respectfully. You hooked one of your legs between his, entangling yourself while you prompted him to come closer. I want you on top of me. I want your body to encase mine. I want to feel small, weightless for a moment. Fuck me until I forget.

When his hands wrapped around your waist, he noticed how much of you he could fit in only two hands. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. Still too respectful. 

“Very. I wouldn’t have asked for something I don’t want.”

He mumbled an affirmation into your neck. He was already kissing you. You felt a scrape of teeth against your skin and received an apology when you gasped. “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“No,” you said, “I want more.”

“I don’t want to leave marks on you.”

“I want you to.” Cover the ones I already have. Fuck me until I forget.

You made the orders in bed. He nipped and sucked at the flesh on your neck and collarbone until you got antsy and pushed his head lower. 

“Relax,” he said. “Do that again and I’ll pin you down.”

“Don’t tempt me.” 

His breath was warm against your skin when he laughed. The sensation trailed down to your breasts. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, flicked his tongue over it, while he used his thumb to play with the other one. The soft suction of his lips had you writhing against the sheets—it was the only thing you can do to avoid moaning. The language barrier didn’t mean shit when it came to sex noises.

Soon, Chris pressed one finger into you, then two. 

You hadn’t shaved in a bit—it wasn’t necessary, nor possible, really, in the past week or so. “Sorry I-” But you were cut off by your own moan when Chris’ lips latched onto your clit. You forgot about the embarrassment you felt over the hair that was growing back when you felt Chris laugh into your core when you moaned. That was far more embarrassing. He came up for air and lazily ran his fingers up and down your folds. 

“Stop teasing me and fuck me already.”

Chris scoffed and stripped himself of his underwear. “Thought I was being nice by getting you wet enough before I fuck you.”

Looking down at your naked body, before lust took over his mind entirely, reason stepped in. 

“Shit—uh, do you have a-”

“I don’t want one anyway.” I want to be full of something other than poison and its antidote.

“Fuck, okay.” He took a sharp inhale of breath. A nagging voice in the back of his brain told him this was a terrible decision, but he was just a man being led by his dick. 

Chris was pushing 40, he hadn’t completely lost his sex drive but he wasn’t a horny teen anymore. It had been a while since he’d been this hard. His dick twitched when he attempted the first thrust inside you, making the head of his cock rub against your clit.

All sex is rough sex when you’re injured. You couldn’t do anything fancier than missionary, but when Chris grabbed your ankles and wrapped your legs around his hips so he could fuck you deeper, you thought you might pass out – for all the right reasons. He sat back on his knees so you could see the bulge in your tummy with every thrust. His tip was pressed firm against your cervix as his palm was on your abdomen. You choked out a sob, all words had left your mind.

Chris cradled your head as he increased the pace of his thrusts, so that your head didn’t hit the headboard, which knocked against the wall behind it. Fuck me until I forget meant temporarily. He wasn’t going to leave you concussed. He knew what amnesia felt like and all it meant was reliving the horrors you’d forgotten.

You’d bled and been bandaged. The pain had mostly subsided, and whatever was left- you cried it all out while you were being pounded into the mattress.

Your screams were echoes from that morning. “Help me!” turned into “Fuck me!”. “Please, I need you, fuck—oh my god—I’m coming” you overwrote the pain with pleasure and the meaning of it all changed. All the panting, groaning, cries of each other’s names, his arms wrapped around your fragile frame as he carried you out into the sunshine before the explosion. The relief and then the realization.

The pounding of your heart at a record rate was reassurance that you were alive. You placed your hand on his chest to make sure he was real and this wasn’t really the afterlife, despite feeling like heaven. You’re alive. Fuck me until I forget everything except for your name, except for your warmth, except for the smell of sex. Shaking and sweating in the corner of a burning building, his steady hands lifting your tiny body. Trembling legs as your orgasm approached in the comfort of a hotel bed in Beijing. You screamed his name to let everyone know of the man who saved your life.

You held each other in grateful silence.

[webshooterrr9]

merman diary 4

[TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION. ORIGINAL WRITING IN THE LOCAL LANGUAGE OF THE MERFOLK]

w.c: 0.8k

content warning: brief mentions of war/conflict

written with no specific character in mind - so imagine this as a mermaid!au with whoever you want! male!char x fem!reader

Diary Entry - 11/2/2024

I haven’t seen her in a while.

It’s not her fault, it’s mine. I’ve been too busy with colonial affairs to visit her lately. The colony has been preparing for conflict with the Octocrae. Those tentacled freaks have always weirded me out, but that’s not my problem. I’m not in the colony’s Leader Council - I’m just a regular merman. But if the colony did descend into war, I’d be expected to fight alongside any other able-bodied merfolk. If I had it my way, I’d spend all of my time on the shore talking with my human. But life isn’t fair, I guess.

“Hey, ule! Come here.” I turn around to see Tasi gesturing towards me, his tail swaying excitedly side-to-side. I swim over, shaking my head.

“What’s all the fuss about? And I told you, there’s no need to use honorifics when referring to me. We’ve been friends long enough.” I say, crossing my arms.

“Aegean sent for all the eligible merfolk to come to the council meeting,” he said, leading me away towards the center of the colony’s settlement. “They want us all to be present for the discussion over war preparations.”

“We’re not actually going to war, are we?” A look of concern crosses my face, but Tasi just seems to consider this normal. “I thought the Council was trying to avoid conflict with the eight-tails.”

“Steady your shells, man. It’s not a big deal. They just want to discuss preparations for if conflict were to actually happen; we were only called so that we could be informed.”

We kept swimming, entering the council building. Our settlement has been around for thousands of years, with this edifice being one of the oldest. Grand archways and spirals decorate every wall of the council building, with details so delicate that only the gentlest of hands could craft them over the centuries that the colony has been around. There are merfolk swimming all around, rushing to the auditorium to get the best seats in front of the Leaders.

I almost get smacked by the tail of one of my scurrying peers. “Do we have to go? These meetings always take forever to end.” I whine, giving Tasi a pleading look. “Why don’t we just ditch? It’s not like they’ll realize we’re missing with all the people crowding the seats.”

My best friend looks at me like I’ve lost my head, but it quickly shifts into a look of curiosity. “Why do you care? You got somewhere else to be, something else to do? Someone else to do?” he interrogates. I shove him in the shoulder, earning a chuckle.

“Don’t be an ass. I just don’t feel like it, is all. I’m not particularly interested in listening to the Leaders drone on about information I already know.”

“Relax, ule,” there’s that title again. “It won’t take long. Then you can go back to whatever it is you think is so important.”

***

I spent the entire meeting zoning out. How could I not? There’s no way to focus when my human plagues my mind. Besides, there wasn’t anything of substance to be heard, anyway. The second that the meeting was over, I swam towards the shore. When my head breached the surface, she wasn’t there. I expected as such, since she told me that humans normally don’t go out at night - due to the fact that they need more rest than we do. But rather than retreating to my home, I stayed on the beach to admire the world above. I don’t know how long I spent there, lying in the sand and looking up at the Earth. The sky was ink black, adorned with clouds and the occasional star here and there. It’s hard to see the sky from under the water, so I never really took the time to admire it. I wiggled my webbed fingers, feeling the sand fall in between them and exfoliate my hands with the miniscule rocks that made up the scratchy dust. The world was so much warmer above the surface - it was as if I was lying on a volcano rock that never cooled. But it was pleasant. I enjoyed the rare privilege of being on the land. If my peers knew, if Tasi knew, if the Leaders knew, I’d surely be chastised for straying so far from the line of what’s acceptable.

But I can’t help it. I’m addicted. I’m infatuated. My human showed me a world that I had never known, and there was no way that I could go back now. I can’t wait to see her again. I know I say that every time, but it’s true. No one intrigues me like she does. And if Tasi and Aegean and all the others punish me for being so in love with the world above, then that’s just my fate.

I love her.

a/n: will update this whenever i feel like it. no regular schedule set. sorry that reader wasn't present in this one, it was more lore-based for the merman lol

dividers by: @cafekitsune

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