#I don't even know if they are in character or not but it was fun to imagine

[kirammanswifey]

helloo!! can you please write about ‘arcane characters when you get in an argument’? i absolutely love ur writing btw!! 🫶🏻

arguments with arcane characters x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i love when you guys request this kind of interesting dynamics, it's so fun to write about it! also my favorite this time was sevika's, I meannn it was kinda hot and spicy. requests are open ;)

Viktor

The sound of the keys under his hands seems to fill the air, but what resonates most is the silence between the two of you. The room is steeped in an unsettling calm, while he keeps working as if nothing else exists. It’s been days since he last rested, and you know it. His skin is paler than usual, his eyes glassy, as if all the world's exhaustion is about to devour him. The scent of machine oil and metal permeates the room, but what hurts you most is the fragility of his being, the one he insists on ignoring.

Slowly, frustration begins to simmer within you. You love him more than anything in the world, but watching him so neglected, so absorbed in his work that he doesn’t even stop to eat, burns you.

You approach him, and suddenly, you can't take it anymore. Your tone isn't raised, but the fury is felt in every word. "Viktor, stop," you murmur, almost pleading. "You’re killing yourself. You haven’t eaten in days, not even slept. Do you know what you're doing? You're letting yourself go. Your body is crying out for help, and you're ignoring it."

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react. He keeps working as if your words don't reach him. Frustrated, you step closer. "You can't keep going like this, Viktor! What are you expecting? For someone to come and save you from yourself? This isn't just about your work, it’s about you!"

Finally, he looks up, but his eyes don’t seem to truly see you. Only a shadow of exhaustion. "I do it for them... for the people. The work... my research, it’s all that matters now."

"And you? Don’t you matter?" The anger mixes with something much deeper. Something that has to do with fear. "Your lack of self-love is so evident, Viktor, even I can see it. You're losing yourself in this obsession."

The words come out harsher than you intended. But seeing the flash of pain in his eyes, you realize what you've just said. A lump forms in your throat.

You fall silent, feeling the air grow thick. Guilt quickly invades you, and before you can think, you kneel in front of him. "Forgive me," you whisper, the anger already dissipated, replaced by sincere pain. "I didn't mean to be so harsh. It’s just... I don't want to see you like this, so lost. I don’t want you to hurt yourself because you are what I love most, Viktor."

Your hands tremble as you take his face in yours. "Please, take care of yourself. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to see you like this anymore, fighting alone against everything. Because, to me, you are everything."

Viktor says nothing at first. He just watches you, the conflict in his gaze. Then, as if releasing a sigh he had been holding for too long, he responds softly, "I’ll try... I promise I’ll try."

You look at him with a mix of relief and sadness. Finally, you stand up and take his hand firmly. "Now come with me. I’m going to make your favorite dinner. You need it."

The change in his expression is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Something in his face softens, and for the first time in a long while, he gives you a faint smile. "You know, that sounds wonderful," he says with a tone that mixes surprise and gratitude.

As you prepare dinner, the atmosphere changes. The tension slowly dissolves, but there’s something else in the air, a silent understanding between you two. After dinner, you look at him with a mischievous smile.

"Viktor," you say, your voice full of complicity. "How many days have you gone without bathing? Because, honestly, I think it’s time you do."

He visibly shifts in discomfort, his face taking on a pink hue. "Honestly... I don’t know," he replies, as if trying to evade the question, looking down. "The truth is, I haven’t had time to think about those things."

Your laugh is soft but teasing. "I think you’ve forgotten a bit about yourself. So, what do you think if after dinner, we take a bath together?"

Viktor blushes even more, but before he can say anything, he has already conceded, and with an exaggerated formality only he can pull off, he responds, "Well... that... that would be very pleasant. If you don’t mind, of course."

The tension from before has transformed into something softer, lighter. You, amused by his so formal response, take his hand and lead him to the bathroom, feeling that, in that moment, all that really matters is that he’s finally willing to take care of himself.

Jinx

The sound of the spark igniting the fuse fills the room. Jinx has a playful smile on her face, but something isn't right. The bomb is making strange noises, as if it's about to fail. The sparkle in her eyes fades for a second, but it's accompanied by a nervous chuckle.

"What's wrong, Jinx?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. The moment feels out of place, and for a moment, you sense that something is very wrong, very out of control. "That... doesn't sound right."

But she just stands there, watching the bomb intently. She doesn't move. The air grows heavy, and suddenly, the bomb makes a terrifying click.

Your eyes widen as you see the timer on the bomb speeding up. A chill grips you, and in an instant, you act on instinct. You leap toward the table, your breath quickening, and deactivate the bomb just before it fully triggers. The explosion is seconds away from ringing in your ears, but you manage to stop it.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you quickly turn to face Jinx. She’s still there, motionless, her eyes fixed on the deactivated bomb, as if hypnotized. She doesn't look scared or relieved, just... empty.

"Why didn't you do anything?" you confront her, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Why did you just stand there? You could have died, Jinx! We could have both died!"

Jinx stares at the floor, her demeanor shifting in a second. The mockery dissolves, the mask falls, and in its place appears the scared girl she so often hides. "I... just wanted to see what would happen." Her response is soft, trembling, as if she doesn't know how to process what just happened.

Those few seconds of silence feel eternal. The air around you grows heavy, as if the whole world is waiting for something else to explode. And it does. You can't take it anymore. Fury takes over, and you lash out at her.

"What did you want to see, Jinx?" Your voice is harsh, filled with frustration. "Did you want to see us both die because of your stupid curiosity? Is that what you wanted?"

Jinx shrinks, her expression transforming into something so fragile it burns your heart. Her face is filled with regret, but her eyes can't meet yours. Tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she keeps staring at the floor, feeling small and scolded.

"I didn't mean to... I swear..." she murmurs, almost in a whisper, her words choked by the pain of having gone too far.

Your rage starts to dissipate, replaced by something deeper. An irrational fear, the anguish of watching Jinx destroy herself. You walk toward her, kneel to her level, and gently take her chin, lifting it so she looks at you.

What you see stops you cold. Jinx's nails are deeply embedded in her palms, red marks that have hurt her, as if she wants to punish herself for something. You stare at her intently, the pain reflected in her eyes and her gesture.

Quickly, you take her hands, without saying a word, and kiss them softly, your lips touching the small wounds on her skin. The blood from her hands stains your lips, but you don't care. "You know I hate seeing you destroy yourself," you murmur, your voice broken by the fear you still feel. "Please, Sweets, don't do this to yourself. Don't do this to us."

You stay still, waiting for her reaction. Finally, the door that had closed in her heart opens, and Jinx lets out a deep sob. Tears fall down her face, like an unexpected rain, and her body trembles.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Jinx sobs, clutching you tightly. There are no more laughs, no more jokes. Just pure pain. And you hold her with equal intensity, rocking her in your arms, trying to soothe her, to erase the suffering she always carries inside.

"Pain isn't the solution," you whisper, stroking her braided hair, trying to convey all the love you feel for her. "I'll always be here for you, Sweets. You don't have to carry all this alone."

She remains silent for a moment, her sobs calming, but her embrace is still desperate. Finally, after a few seconds, her eyes lift, and with a small smile, she says:

"So... want to make bombs, but in a fun way? With less blood this time!"

The laughter that follows fills the room, and even though you know the battle isn't won, this small step in her recovery gives you renewed hope. Taking her hand, you lead her back to the table with the tools, ready for another night filled with madness... but this time, with a little more care.

Vi

The air in the Undercity feels heavy tonight, a cold that seems to seep into your bones. The sound of metal echoing through the structures, the distant murmurs of shouts and laughter, mix with the echo of your footsteps on the iron bridge that crosses the dark, grimy avenue. You walk in silence, but the tension in the air is palpable.

Suddenly, a drunk, staggering with a vacant stare, approaches you. The stench of alcohol wafts from his breath, and his eyes settle on you in a not-so-friendly way. His rough, hollow laughter resonates in the air, as if nothing he was about to do mattered.

Before you can react, his hands touch your backside without warning, sending a wave of revulsion through you and a shiver down your spine.

A choked scream escapes you, but before you can push him away, you feel Vi’s furious gaze, like a storm about to break loose. The anger on her face is palpable, and not a second later, the drunk is on the ground, receiving blows that thunder like hammers. His face is soon covered in blood, and the sound of fists pounding against his body leaves a disturbing feeling in the air.

Vi doesn’t stop; each punch is more brutal than the last. People in the distance quickly disperse, leaving only the echo of the hits. Your heart races, worry consumes you as you watch Vi unleash her uncontrollable fury.

"Vi, stop!" You lunge toward her, but in the process, one of her fury-fueled punches lands directly on your lip. The immediate pain stuns you, and when you touch your face, your hand is filled with blood. The split lip burns. Vi stops abruptly, looking at her bloodstained knuckles—her own, the drunk’s, and now yours.

She stands frozen, her face, once filled with rage, now shows a look of horror. “Oh, God…” she murmurs, seeing what she has done.

You tremble, not just from the pain in your lip but from the brutality of her actions. You’re not used to violence, not on this magnitude. Fear knots in your chest, and you let out a shaky sigh as you watch Vi, her face now wrecked with guilt.

"I didn’t mean to!" Her voice is broken, as if the guilt is overwhelming her.

“Let’s go home,” you respond coldly, more out of fear than anger, "and when we get there, we’ll talk."

The walk home is silent, the tension hanging between you like a taut string about to snap. When you arrive, you enter the kitchen and quickly tend to your lip, while Vi watches silently, unable to articulate a word.

Once you finish, you turn to her. The air is thick with the weight of what’s unsaid. “Vi…” you begin, your voice soft but firm. “You need to learn to control your anger. This time, you just didn’t hurt someone else. This time, it was me too. Me, the person you love the most. Do you realize that? Do you realize how I felt when your blows landed on me?”

Her eyes fill with tears, and her throat tightens as if she wants to say something, but the words are stuck in her chest. “I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

You continue, your words coming out with more pain than you expected. “Sometimes… I’m afraid of you, Vi. Not because of what you might do to others, but because of what you might do to me. I don’t want to live in fear of your rage hurting me. It hurts so much. It hurt so much.”

Vi collapses in front of you, breaking down. Her tears fall one after another, and she throws herself into your arms, holding you in a desperate embrace. “I don’t know why I’m like this… I don’t know how… how to control it. I always have this rage inside, and sometimes I don’t know how to stop it. When it explodes, everything goes to hell, I know…” Her voice cracks as she clings to you. "I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you."

The softness in her tone hits you harder than any punch, and in that moment, you know she understands. "Vi, I… I don’t want you to hurt anymore," you murmur, caressing her back. "I don’t want that rage to control you."

She pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, her face soaked in tears. “I’m so sorry. I swear it wasn’t my intention… but sometimes…” her words trail off in a sigh.

A small, sad smile forms on your face. “Have you thought about boxing? Maybe it’ll help you release all that. And I’ll go with you! But promise me you won’t use me as a punching bag, okay?" you joke with a smile, trying to lighten the moment.

Vi finally laughs, a laugh that feels like relief. “I promise. Just, please, don’t leave me, okay?”

You approach her, tenderly kissing her, careful to avoid the wound on your lip, and you feel the softness of her lips, the calm that finally settles between you. “I would never leave you, babe,” you whisper as you both embrace, knowing that, even though everything is complicated and painful, there is something between you that always keeps you together.

Caitlyn

The door bursts open, and Caitlyn enters the room with a face marked by a fury that seems to burn inside her. Your eyes lift from where you're sitting, a little surprised by her abrupt entrance, but you quickly see what has been happening.

"I can't believe what I had to hear today," Caitlyn throws out, her voice cold and cutting as she drops her jacket on a chair. "All because of your... damn ideas of justice. Do you have any idea what that means in this place?"

You stand up slowly, the tone of her voice making the air grow denser, heavier. "What happened, Cait?" you ask, though part of you already knows it has something to do with her ideals.

"It's not just what happened, it's what's happening. All the damn time," she responds, walking toward you with contained rage. "You go on and on about doing what's right, without understanding that ‘right’ isn’t always what people in high places think. You think you can change something, but all you're doing is making it worse."

Your heart races, and a spark of frustration rises in your chest. "Make it worse?" you repeat, feeling indignation begin to spill out of you. "Is that what you think? That my actions aren't worth it? You're so blinded by your perfect view of the world that you can't see what's really going on in the streets! Evil isn't just in the ‘high society,’ Caitlyn. It's everywhere."

Caitlyn looks at you with an intensity that almost seems defiant, but also wounded. "I'm not blind, the problem is that I can't understand why you keep going against the whole system. Every time you do, you just feed more chaos. You have to think about the consequences, about the people who can't afford those ideals you're defending like you're some fairy-tale hero. Not everyone can afford that luxury."

"A luxury?" Your voice rises slightly, now stronger. "What you call 'luxury' should be a right. Do you really not understand that people are suffering? That your 'system' is letting all of this crumble just to maintain power? I can't just stand by because you think it's fine because it looks neat from your tower."

Caitlyn steps back, as if your words hit some deep place inside her. "Not everything is as simple as ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ Sometimes things aren’t black or white. Sometimes you have to make concessions to move forward. What you’re doing is just putting yourself in the center, without understanding that there’s more at stake."

The words hang in the air between you two, and the intensity of the argument seems to rise with every exchange. Caitlyn is so convinced of her point of view that you can't help but feel frustrated by the barrier between you.

"What I understand, Caitlyn," you finally say, with a tense calm, "is that sometimes you do more harm by trying to follow the rules than by breaking them. And I know your intentions are good, but I can't stay silent watching you justify the unjustifiable."

Caitlyn closes her eyes for a moment, as if taking a breath to calm herself. When she opens them again, something has changed. It’s not that her anger has disappeared, but she seems more exhausted, as if all this is wearing her down. "I’m not asking you to agree with me. I'm just asking you to understand that sometimes, even if it hurts, decisions aren’t as easy as you see them."

There's a long silence between you, the air thick with discomfort and tension. You both know you're not going to come to an agreement this time, but you also know that won't change what lies between you.

Finally, Caitlyn sighs and sits on the edge of the table, letting the exhaustion take over her. "Sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right, no matter what I try," she murmurs, more to herself than to you. "And you... you make me see everything that's wrong with me."

You move a little closer, calmer but still hurt. "Cait, that's not what I want. What I want is for you to realize you don’t have to carry all of this on your own. You don’t have to keep walking down this path if it doesn't make you happy. I’m here for you, even when we don’t agree."

Caitlyn looks at you, her eyes reflecting some vulnerability, something she doesn't usually show. "I know. I just… I’m scared that I could lose everything I’ve built because... because I don't know when to stop."

You sit next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You’re not going to lose it, Cait. No matter how much we fight, what matters is that we’re in this together. But you also have to learn to take care of yourself, not just the world."

Caitlyn nods slowly, and for the first time in a long while, a small smile appears on her face, though it’s sad. "I guess sometimes I forget that."

The tension begins to dissipate, although the brush of differences is still there. Deep down, you both know that these kinds of discussions won’t end anytime soon, but you also know that you're both moving forward for something bigger than the disagreement.

Jayce

There was something heavy in the air that night. An uncomfortable silence that hadn't been able to break for the past few days. Despite being in the same house, in the same room, you felt farther away from Jayce than ever. It wasn't just the lack of physical contact, it wasn't just the absence of the small gestures that usually made everything work between you. It was something deeper, something that had been growing inside you without him realizing it.

Finally, you couldn’t hold it any longer. You sat on the bed, staring into the emptiness in front of you, and when he walked in, that feeling of discouragement completely overwhelmed you. Without looking at him, you started.

“Jayce, I don’t know what to think anymore,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “It’s been days since… since we’ve had anything. And I’m not just talking about sex, I’m talking about everything. I don’t even feel like you desire me anymore.”

Jayce, who had been in his own world as usual, looked up at you, confused by your words. “What are you saying, honey?” Surprise was evident in his voice, but it wasn’t enough to calm the torrent that had been unleashed inside you.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You stood up from the bed, walking towards him, words pouring out like a torrent. “Every day, I feel like I’m just here, fitting into your perfect life. Everything we do, everything we plan, it feels like you’re doing it because you have to. What about what I want, Jayce? What about us?”

Jayce took a step towards you, opening his arms as if he wanted to get closer, but something in your gaze made him stop. “No… I don’t understand. What do you mean by fitting into my perfect life?”

Your breathing quickened. “What I mean is that sometimes, I feel like I’m just an accessory, another piece in the puzzle you’ve been putting together. Like what matters most to you is making everything look right, fitting, but not us. I don’t feel desired, Jayce. I feel empty, like I don’t matter, like I’m just here because I fit into your life, not because you actually want to be with me.”

The pain in your voice was palpable, and although Jayce tried to step closer, you moved away from him. “I’m so tired of feeling like we’re nothing more than two people sharing a space. There’s no passion, no connection… Just the idea of what’s expected of us.”

Jayce looked completely lost, like he never imagined you felt this way. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. You know how important you are to me. But I… I’ve been so focused on work, on everything we need to achieve, that…”

“That what?” you interrupted, unable to keep bearing what felt like a pile of excuses. “That you’re too busy to see what’s right in front of you? I have my own problems too, Jayce. Not everything revolves around your projects, your perfect image. I’m a person too, and my feelings matter too.”

The words hung in the air, between rage and pain. Jayce didn’t say anything, and that only increased the feeling of abandonment you were experiencing. Frustration and sadness took over you more and more. Finally, the silence was broken, but not in the way you expected.

“Honey…” Jayce started, his voice softer now, but still full of confusion. “I didn’t want to make you feel this way. I didn’t realize I was leaving you out. I didn’t want you to feel… unwanted.”

Your eyes filled with tears, the emotional pressure of being unheard for so long finally bursting. “I don’t want to be just another option in your life. I want to be loved, I want to feel desired, I want you to look at me like you’re afraid of losing me. And I don’t feel that from you. I feel like everything we do is a routine, just fulfilling what’s supposed to be.”

Jayce slowly approached, now understanding the gravity of your words. “I… I don’t know how I didn’t see all this. I’m sorry, honey. I really am. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve been so focused on everything else that… I’ve failed you.”

A heavy silence fell between you. You didn’t know what to think, just felt a knot in your stomach, but when Jayce took a step towards you, taking your hands, you couldn’t help but look him in the eyes, searching for some sign that he truly understood how you felt.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his tone full of sincerity. “I promise I’ll change, I won’t take you for granted. You’re the most important thing to me, and if I made you feel like you weren’t, it hurts me deeply.”

You looked at him intently, seeing in his eyes the truth of his regret. “I know… but I need you to act instead of just saying it.”

Jayce nodded, a glimpse of a smile appearing on his face as his hands caressed yours. “I will. From now on, you and I… we’re a priority.”

Your heart lightened hearing those words, and when he hugged you, you held him tightly, knowing that the road to healing that disconnection wouldn’t be easy, but at least, finally, there was a beginning. And that promise to rebuild what had been lost was all you needed to start healing.

Ekko

That afternoon, it felt like the tension between you and Ekko was thicker than ever. You had been working together on a project, and the small jokes and dismissive attitudes from Ekko, which you usually let slide, began to affect you more than you expected.

"Wow, did you really think that was a good idea?" Ekko said, his biting tone making the sarcasm leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Your breath became heavier, and although you tried to ignore it, something inside you snapped. You looked at him, furious, and without thinking twice, dropped the tool you had in your hands. "You know what? I'm leaving."

Ekko looked at you, somewhat surprised by your reaction, but before you could walk away any further, he let out a light laugh, as if nothing was happening. "What's up, got your period or something?"

That was the breaking point.

You stopped in your tracks, feeling a lump form in your throat. You turned to him with eyes shining with frustration. "You know what, Ekko? It's because of you. Because sometimes you don't seem to think about what you say, and you don't care how I feel."

Ekko furrowed his brow, trying to understand what you were saying, but before he could speak, you continued venting.

"You make me feel like my problems don't matter, like everything I do isn't up to your standards. Always so... so carefree, like you never have to think about how your words affect me. Have you ever thought about that?" Rage and pain built up in your voice as you spoke, but the words kept pouring out like an avalanche.

And then, without warning, what you hadn’t been able to say before came flooding out. "You know what's the worst? That I feel insecure, Ekko. I feel like I'm not good enough for you, like I'm not smart enough, not attractive enough... Because you never show jealousy, you never show anything. Like you never care. And that makes me doubt myself."

Ekko went silent, looking at your face in surprise, an expression that showed he finally understood what you had just said. The mockery from his previous joke faded, and his face shifted from confusion to deep seriousness.

"I... I didn't know you felt that way," he said finally, his words soft and filled with guilt. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I'm sorry, really. I'm not good at showing what I feel, I've never been."

He slowly approached you, not trying to interrupt the flow of your emotions. "You know, I grew up in a world where showing emotions was seen as weakness. Life never gave me time to process them. Since I was a kid, I was always at war, always on the move, always worried about surviving. But I never wanted that to affect you."

Your eyes softened a little as you listened to his words, and for a moment, the weight of frustration lifted slightly. "I... I didn't want you to think I cared less. It's just that sometimes, I get so caught up in my own stuff that I forget that the people close to me also have feelings. And I don't want you to feel belittled, I don't want you to feel like you're not enough."

There was a tense silence between you both, but something in his tone softened the atmosphere. "I'm sorry, really. It was never my intention to hurt you. You're incredible just as you are, and you make me feel like I can be more, like I can improve."

For a moment, everything seemed to calm down, but Ekko, with a mischievous smile, added, "And if it helps, yeah, I do worry a little when others look at you. But I'm not so good at showing jealousy."

You couldn't help but smile a little, even though you still felt the open wounds. Ekko, seeing this, moved a bit closer and gave you a gentle hug, as if it were a small gesture of comfort you so needed.

"I really care about you. I don't want you to feel insecure. I don't care if you're smarter or not, because what really matters to me is that you're you."

And before you could respond, Ekko joked with his usual playful attitude. "Although, if I ever catch you with someone else, you'd better be ready, because I’m not going to sit still."

You laughed despite everything, feeling the tension slowly disappearing, as if everything you had kept inside had finally found a way out.

"I love you too," you replied, as you hugged him again, knowing that, although the path wouldn’t always be easy, at least you both understood each other a little more.

Silco

Silco's office was shrouded in shadows, barely illuminated by the dim glow of a lamp on his desk. The phone conversation he was having was filled with frustration. "No, that won't work. We need something more decisive, something more substantial," he growled before hanging up with a sharp click that echoed through the wood.

From your position at the door, you could hear every word, feeling the tension in the air. You couldn’t help but intervene. "Maybe you could try..." you began, suggesting a plan you had come up with after hearing his problem.

Silco looked up at you, his cold, calculating eyes locking onto yours. "Shut up. You don't know anything about this," he snapped with disdain, his words cutting through you like a knife.

The coldness in his voice felt like a blow to the chest. Without saying another word, you turned around and stormed out of the office, slamming the door with a force that resonated down the hallway. Frustration burned in your chest as you climbed the stairs to your room.

Surprised by your reaction, Silco followed. Reaching the closed door, he knocked forcefully. "Open the door immediately!" he shouted, his tone a mix of anger and confusion.

"I won't! Go away!" you replied from inside, your voice trembling with both rage and pain. A sound from inside made his heart race. Fearing the worst, he broke down the door without thinking twice.

Inside, he found you packing your things with trembling hands. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes fixed on you, trying to understand the magnitude of your decision.

"I'm done, Silco. Done with you not seeing me as someone capable of helping you, done with you constantly underestimating me," you declared, your voice trembling but resolute. "I’m a human being, just like you, and I can handle matters and plans. I’m not just a decoration in your world."

Silco scoffed, crossing his arms in impatience. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do you want me to buy you something? You look hysterical."

That was the breaking point. You turned to face him, your eyes fiery and filled with tears. "Silco, remember where you found me. I was a worker in that horrible brothel, sold by my parents at eleven. I thought that by freeing myself, I would have a voice, that finally someone would see me as an equal. But it’s not like that. You don’t even listen to me."

Silco looked at you, his eyes softening as the weight of your words sank in. He approached you cautiously, his fingers touching your cheek with an unusual tenderness. "It's not personal," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I’ve always been like this, I prefer to work alone. I’ve been through so much to earn respect in the Undercity that sometimes I minimize the opinions of others. But I never meant for you to feel this way, not you."

The wall of pain you had built began to crack under the weight of his words. "I’ll change. From now on, I’ll listen to what you have to say. In fact, tell me that plan you were going to propose earlier."

A pause lingered, but then, with a sigh, he added: "But before that, there’s something more important."

His words echoed in the silence before Silco took you by the waist, pulling you toward him. He kissed you with a passion that overflowed with unspoken apologies, a fire that spoke of promises of change and a renewed understanding between you both.

Mel

The luxurious bedroom was bathed in soft lights that enhanced the golden and ivory tones of the walls. You turned in front of the mirror, admiring how the dress flowed around your body, highlighting your curves and cascading elegantly in a fabric waterfall. The excitement of the night reflected in your eyes, waiting for Mel's approval.

When you stepped out of the dressing room, the smile on your lips quickly faded as you noticed the disapproving expression on her face. Mel looked you up and down, her gaze critical and stern. "Take it off," she ordered in a cold, distant tone. "Put on the one I chose for you."

You frowned, surprised. "Why? What's wrong with this one?"

"It’s not that there's anything wrong with it," she replied, crossing her arms with an air of authority. "It’s just not what I want for you tonight. Change your makeup and hairstyle as well. Something more sophisticated would be better."

The heat rushed to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Nothing I do is good enough for you, right?" you exclaimed, your eyes sparking with indignation. "It feels like you always have to correct me."

Mel raised an eyebrow, her voice firm and unapologetic. "You should be grateful. I'm helping you make the most of your appearance. I need us to be perfect tonight."

"You mean you need to be perfect," you corrected, unbuckling your heels and throwing them to the floor with a sharp sound. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Without waiting for a response, you made your way to the terrace, needing fresh air to calm the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside you. The cool breeze caressed your face as you leaned on the railing, trying to hold back tears.

It wasn’t long before Mel appeared behind you, her elegant silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. "Why are you acting like this?" she asked, her voice softer now, but still tinged with confusion.

"Seriously, Mel?" you turned to face her, your voice shaking with frustration. "Nothing I do seems right to you. You always correct me—the way I walk, the way I talk, and now even the color of my lipstick. It’s extreme and stupid."

Mel looked at you with a mix of surprise and reflection, as if your words had struck her for the first time. "I hadn’t thought of it that way," she finally admitted, her voice quieter. "I guess... I’m really hard on myself, and I project it onto others."

You took a deep breath, your eyes still shining with contained emotion. "I don’t want you to be like that with me. I’m not an extension of your standards, Mel."

Silence stretched between you for a moment before Mel took a step forward, enveloping you in a firm, comforting hug. "I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You’re fine just as you are, and I apologize for projecting my insecurities onto you."

You leaned into her, feeling the tension slowly fade. "I understand," you replied softly. "I know you were raised to be perfect. But please, when you feel those things, communicate them in a different way. Don’t impose them."

Mel nodded, her gaze meeting yours with a mix of regret and affection. "I will," she promised. "Please, come with me to the party. Without you, I won’t have the strength to go."

You hesitated for a moment, looking at yourself with insecurity. Mel noticed and gently cupped your face in her hands. "That dress looks amazing on you," she said with a warm smile. "It highlights everything I love about you."

Her words and the kiss that followed dispelled any doubt, filling you with renewed confidence as you agreed to accompany her, knowing this time, you would go as yourself, not as a perfected version to satisfy Mel's standards.

Sevika

The apartment door opened slowly, revealing Sevika's figure in the dim light. She walked in with tired steps, the weight of the night reflecting on her shoulders. You, who had been waiting patiently for her return, stood up from the couch with relief, but as you approached to embrace her, something stopped you. A strange scent, sweet and foreign, emanated from her skin, a fragrance that didn’t belong to any perfume you knew her to wear.

Your heart raced as you took a slight step back, your eyes fixed on her. "Who were you with?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm, although a mix of anxiety and distrust began to rise within you.

Sevika looked at you in surprise, not understanding the reason for your unease. "I was at the bar, drinking. My ex joined me, we talked a bit, had a good time." She said it with such casualness that every word pierced you like a poisoned dart.

Anger began to bubble up inside you. "Why are you talking about it so casually?" you spat, feeling your voice start to tremble.

She frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You shouldn’t have gone out with your ex!" you exclaimed, frustration coloring your words. "You owe me respect."

Sevika crossed her arms, her gaze hardening. "I do what I want," she replied coldly. "If you don’t trust me, maybe you should leave."

Your eyes widened at her comment. The idea of walking out that door tempted you, but sadness and rage kept you rooted to the ground. "Is that what you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking. "For me to leave?"

Sevika seemed to realize the weight of her words. She took a step toward you, extending her hand as if trying to stop you. "Wait, I didn’t mean that," she murmured, her tone softer, almost pleading. "You know I’m impulsive."

"Of course, impulsive... and nostalgic too," you replied bitterly, your eyes burning with contained pain. "You miss your ex, don’t you? You want to get back together with her?"

She frowned, stepping closer until her hands rested on your shoulders. "What’s your problem?" she asked, her voice low but firm. "Why are you saying all these things?"

The emotions you had kept under control for so long finally exploded. "Because I’ve been cheated on before!" you confessed, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "I know the patterns when I see them. I don’t want to feel stupid and used again."

The hardness in Sevika’s expression melted away, replaced by deep understanding. Her hands, once firm, slid down your arms in a gesture of comfort. "I’m not those people, you shouldn’t compare me to anyone," she said, her voice firm but full of empathy. "If I didn’t want to be with you, I would tell you. I don’t need to lie to anyone. I love you, only you."

Her sincerity pierced your insecurities, breaking down the wall of fear you had built. Still, doubts lingered. "Then why did you go out with her?" you asked, still needing an explanation.

"Because it was a coincidence," Sevika explained, her gaze sincere. "We ran into each other by chance, and I thought there was nothing wrong with sharing a couple of drinks. But now I see it bothers you, and I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel this way."

Her words resonated within you, slowly calming the internal storm. You nodded, allowing the warmth of her promise to envelop you. "I want to believe in you," you whispered.

Sevika stepped closer, her lips finding yours in a deep kiss, full of promises and silent regrets. When she pulled away, her soft voice broke the trance. "Are you better?" she asked, gently caressing your cheek.

"I'll be better when you take a shower and get that cheap perfume off," you joked, your tone still slightly irritated but with a hint of humor.

Sevika laughed, a low, guttural sound that echoed in the space between you. She pulled you by the waist, drawing you even closer. "Then I’m going to need your help," she whispered in your ear, her voice laden with seduction. "Tonight, I feel especially incapable."

Your smile widened, a spark of mischief lighting your eyes. "I guess I can help with that," you murmured, letting the intimacy of the moment take over, knowing that despite everything, you were in the place you wanted to be: by her side.

[all-by-myself98]

OK I'm gonna rant for a second

When I was sick with covid last Feb, I watched the Malcolm X movie and I mentioned the Angela Bassett phenomenon in a Letterboxd review I was basically like.

This woman has such an interesting range of works. Not a predictable range like from comedies to actions to horrors. But like from what would be considered high brow vs low brow film and TV.

She's done like the serious Oscar tier kinda shit like the Tina Turner biopic, Boyz n the Hood, the Malcolm X movie as I mentioned, and a lot of other like. Really successful really like. The kinda shit that might be considered high brow or like. cinema shit, you know? Shit that wins awards and stays in people's minds because of how highly regarded it is

And then she's kinda gradually tapered off of that, which is fine! I think if I was an actress and I had a shit ton of success earlier in my career, I might also branch off and look at other projects. A lot of the stuff she's been in nowadays isn't really classified as high brow. It's mostly drama television or cartoons or, of course, action stuff. Like there was Meet the Robinsons, there was American Horror Story, there was fucking. ER! She was in ER for like two years(?) as a main role! And then of course that itty bitty foray in the failed Green Lantern movie, and then her actual success with the Black Panther movies.

Like... They're less dramatically intense, more just. Fun! She got her bag of money early on and now she's doing whatever the fuck she wants which is so valid of her, I would do the same thing if I ever went into that line of business. Earn your security, then have fun and do what you want!

And honestly this might not have even been her intent. There could have been other stuff going on. Her wiki link mentioned that after her Tina Turner biopic she wasn't getting any calls for roles for like a year and a half. So maybe people were just being idiots and skipping over her, maybe there was some dumb fucked up Hollywood politics involved, or maybe she's genuinely letting herself have fun with her roles now, OR maybe she noticed that there's just as much integrity and potential in a role like Athena Grant or Queen Ramonda or Marie Laveau than there is in her earlier character counterparts.

Again, this is also relying on this backwards and outdated idea of high brow vs low brow film and television. I don't subscribe to these ideas, and I think it's low-key kinda ridiculous and I think people should just have fun watching what they want without feeling like what they want to watch isn't good enough or doesn't command the same respect... But sadly other people do absolutely subscribe to these ideas and you can tell because it's difficult not to notice a difference in the tone or nuance of two different works, and why some works are not nominated for awards as much as others because some Hollywood awards panel either don't see it as serious or as respectable enough to be in with the so called "big leagues".

All visual work is valid and all visual work is capable of eliciting the emotions they need to elicit to keep their audiences hooked.

ANYWAYS that's the end of my little blab

I love Angela Bassett and whatever is the reason for her shift in her filmography, girl you are not gonna hear me complain one bit. As long as she's happy, I'm happy for her. I just find it fascinating to think about is all

And thus. The Angela Bassett phenomenon (copyright pending)

trying to understand a show you don’t watch only through gifs you see on your dash

[thebiggerbear]

I keep seeing complaint posts about all of the free creative content people get on here. This is the second post I've come across on nicknames in stories alone in the past few weeks. Three quick things:

1) If you don't like a nickname or whatever about a story, simply click out of it and go about your day. Or engage with the writer and explain (respectfully/constructively) why you don't think the nickname fits that character/scene, etc.

2) You are literally getting this creative content for FREE. Someone who took time out of their busy lives to create content for a character/ship/fandom for YOU to enjoy. Rather than sit there and make fun of the story and/or writer with your buddies online, again move past it. If it's not your thing for whatever reason, then it's not your thing. It's as simple as that. No need to make shitposts that you purposely put in tags where said writer will see it so you can make them feel badly and possibly give up writing altogether. Just because they may have written something you don't like doesn't mean they're a bad writer.

3) You don't like a nickname in a story or whatever? Here's a question: how about you give writing a shot yourself and see what YOU come up with? And let's see how YOU do and how YOU feel when people start making shitposts about you and your story. Writing is not an easy process. Even the most successful published writers on the planet will tell you that. Even someone who sneezed which typed out 500 words of a fanfic randomly. So give it a shot for yourself and see what you come up with. And who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky and find a new hobby for yourself. Something for you to enjoy rather than tear down for once.

Enough with these shitposts already and putting them in the tags for writers to see. If you have a complaint, make it to the writer directly in a respectful manner. Or just simply click out of the story and go find one you actually enjoy. There's a surplus amount of fanfiction on this site for various characters/ships/fandoms. It's really not that hard.

[metanarrates]

Hello. Sorry if this a stupid question u can ignore if u want.

How can someone get better at media analysis? Besides obviously reading a lot.

Im asking this bc im in a point where im aware of my own lack of tools to analyze stories, but i don't know where to get them or how to get better in general. How did you learn to analyze media? There's any specific book, essay, author, etc that you recommend? Somewhere to start?

I'm asking you because you are genuinely the person who has the best takes on this site. Thank you for you work!

it sounds like a cop-out answer but it's always felt like a skill I acquired mostly thru reading a ton, and by paying a lot of attention in high school literature classes. because of that I can't promise that I'm necessarily equipped to be a good teacher or that i know good resources. HOWEVER! let me run some potential advice to you based on the shit i get a lot of mileage out of

first off, a lot of literary analysis is about pattern recognition! not just pattern recognition in-text, but out-of-text as well. how does this work relate to its genre? real-world history? does it have parallels between real-life situations? that kind of thing.

which is a big concept to just describe off the bat, so let me break it down further!

in literature, there is the concept of something called literary devices - they are some of the basic building blocks in how a story is delivered mechanically and via subtext. have you ever heard of a motif? that is a literary device. it's a pattern established in the text in order to further the storytelling! and here is a list of a ton of common literary devices - I'd recommend reading the article. it breaks down a lot of commonly used ones in prose and poetry and explains their usage.

personally, I don't find all the literary devices I've learned about in school to be the most useful to my analytical hobbies online. motifs, themes, and metaphors are useful and dissecting them can bring a lot to the table, but a lot of other devices are mostly like fun bonus trivia for me to notice when reading. however, memorizing those terms and trying to notice them in the things you read does have a distinct benefit - it encourages you to start noticing patterns, and to start thinking of the mechanical way a story is built. sure, thinking about how the prose is constructed might not help you understand the story much more, but it does make you start thinking about how things like prose contribute to the greater feeling of a piece, or how the formatting of a piece contributes to its overall narrative. you'll start developing this habit of picking out little things about a text, which is useful.

other forms of in-text pattern recognition can be about things like characterization! how does a character react to a certain situation? is it consistent with how they usually behave? what might that tell you about how they think? do they have tells that show when they're not being trustworthy? does their viewpoint always match what is happening on screen? what ideas do they have about how the world works? how are they influenced by other people in their lives? by social contexts that might exist? by situations that have affected them? (on that note, how do situations affect other situations?)

another one is just straight-up noticing themes in a work. is there a certain idea that keeps getting brought up? what is the work trying to say about that idea? if it's being brought up often, it's probably worth paying attention to!

that goes for any pattern, actually. if you notice something, it's worth thinking about why it might be there. try considering things like potential subtext, or what a technique might be trying to convey to a reader. even if you can't explain why every element of a text is there, you'll often gain something by trying to think about why something exists in a story.

^ sometimes the answer to that question is not always "because it's intentional" or even "because it was a good choice for the storytelling." authors frequently make choices that suck shit (I am a known complainer about choices that suck shit.) that's also worth thinking about. english classes won't encourage this line of thinking, because they're trying to get you to approach texts with intentional thought instead of writing them off. I appreciate that goal, genuinely, but I do think it hampers people's enthusiasm for analysis if they're not also being encouraged to analyze why they think something doesn't work well in a story. sometimes something sucks and it makes new students mad if they're not allowed to talk about it sucking! I'll get into that later - knowing how and why something doesn't work is also a valuable skill. being an informed and analytical hater will get you far in life.

so that's in-work literary analysis. id also recommend annotating your pages/pdfs or keeping a notebook if you want to close-read a work. keeping track of your thoughts while reading even if they're not "clever" or whatever encourages you to pay attention to a text and to draw patterns. it's very useful!

now, for out-of-work literary analysis! it's worth synthesizing something within its context. what social settings did this work come from? was it commenting on something in real life? is it responding to some aspects of history or current events? how does it relate to its genre? does it deviate from genre trends, commentate on them, or overall conform to its genre? where did the literary techniques it's using come from - does it have any big stylistic influences? is it referencing any other texts?

and if you don't know the answer to a bunch of these questions and want to know, RESEARCH IS YOUR FRIEND! look up historical events and social movements if you're reading a work from a place or time you're not familiar with. if you don't know much about a genre, look into what are considered common genre elements! see if you can find anyone talking about artistic movements, or read the texts that a work might be referencing! all of these things will give you a far more holistic view of a work.

as for your own personal reaction to & understanding of a work... so I've given the advice before that it's good to think about your own personal reactions to a story, and what you enjoy or dislike about it. while this is true that a lot of this is a baseline jumping-off point on how I personally conduct analysis, it's incomplete advice. you should not just be thinking about what you enjoy or dislike - you should also be thinking about why it works or doesn't work for you. if you've gotten a better grasp on story mechanics by practicing the types of pattern recognition i recognized above, you can start digging into how those storytelling techniques have affected you. did you enjoy this part of a story? what made it work well? what techniques built tension, or delivered well on conflict? what about if you thought it sucked? what aspects of storytelling might have failed?

sometimes the answer to this is highly subjective and personal. I'm slightly romance-averse because I am aromantic, so a lot of romance plots will simply bore me or actively annoy me. I try not to let that personal taste factor too much into serious critiques, though of course I will talk about why I find something boring and lament it wasn't done better lol. we're only human. just be aware of those personal taste quirks and factor them into analysis because it will help you be a bit more objective lol

but if it's not fully influenced by personal taste, you should get in the habit of building little theses about why a story affected you in a certain way. for example, "I felt bored and tired at this point in a plot, which may be due to poor pacing & handling of conflict." or "I felt excited at this point in the plot, because established tensions continued to get more complex and captured my interest." or "I liked this plot point because it iterated on an established theme in a way that brought interesting angles to how the story handled the theme." again, it's just a good way to think about how and why storytelling functions.

uh let's see what else. analysis is a collaborative activity! you can learn a lot from seeing how other people analyze! if you enjoy something a lot, try looking into scholarly articles on it, or youtube videos, or essays online! develop opinions also about how THOSE articles and essays etc conduct analysis, and why you might think those analyses are correct or incorrect! sometimes analyses suck shit and developing a counterargument will help you think harder about the topic in question! think about audience reactions and how those are created by the text! talk to friends! send asks to meta blogs you really like maybe sometimes

find angles of analysis that interest and excite you! if you're interested in feminist lenses on a work, or racial lenses, or philosophical lenses, look into how people conduct those sort of analyses on other works. (eg. search feminist analysis of hamlet, or something similar so you can learn how that style of analysis generally functions) and then try applying those lenses to the story you're looking at. a lot of analysts have a toolkit of lenses they tend to cycle through when approaching a new text - it might not be a bad idea to acquire a few favored lenses of your own.

also, most of my advice is literary advice, since you can broadly apply many skills you learn in literary analysis to any other form of storytelling, but if you're looking at another medium, like a game or cartoon, maybe look up some stuff about things like ludonarrative storytelling or visual storytelling! familiarizing yourself with the specific techniques common to a certain medium will only help you get better at understanding what you're seeing.

above all else, approach everything with intellectual curiosity and sincerity. even if you're sincerely curious about why something sucks, letting yourself gain information and potentially learning something new or being humbled in the process will help you grow. it's okay to not have all the answers, or to just be flat-out wrong sometimes. continuing to practice is a valuable intellectual pursuit even if it can mean feeling a tad stupid sometimes. don't be scared to ask questions. get comfortable sometimes with the fact that the answer you'll arrive at after a lot of thought and effort will be "I don't fully know." sometimes you don't know and that can be valuable in its own right!

thank you for the ask, and I hope you find this helpful!

[suiana]

❝ I Reincarnated Into a Shitty Chirstmas Romance Movie and My Love Interest is a Yandere?! ❞

✎ featuring my creature, Ezra Valentine :3 this is just ezra being a weirdo, some lore for my game? idk blawg just read it and you'll find out

✎ special shoutout tags to these people @yandere-yearnings @forbidden-sunlight @moyazaika @bun3333s @yanderenightmare @cumtastiics @ozzgin

Your "childhood friend" is a bit of a weirdo, you think.

Staring at you for far too long, lingering touches that suggest that he's more than just a bit interested in you, and the weird random confessions about how he wants to get crushed under the heel of your right shoe...

It's just weird.

You've reincarnated into a shitty christmas romance movie. And your "childhood friend", aka the love interest, aka Ezra Valentine, has a crush on the main character, you. Obviously.

You don't even know why you watched this movie in the first place. Boredom, maybe? Yeah, probably was because you started dozing off after hour 1 of the movie. The movie was... 1 and a half hour long? It wasn't even rated that high. Like a... 6.9 at best.

And now you're stuck here all because you watched this shitty movie with an even shittier plot. Where the main character left the small town for a big city, came back home to celebrate christmas and meets childhood friend, decides to give up big city life because they both fall for one another.

Just like every other damn Mallhark movie. Predictable, boring, absolutely TRASH.

You don't even know why or how you got reincarnated into this damned movie in the first place! Did you fucking pass away in your sleep??? Actually just die from fucking boredom???

Well it's no use thinking about that now because you've been stuck in here for a while now. You think that you're maybe about halfway through the original plot, where Ezra and the old mc were supposed to have some bonding time together and shit. But that's not the case now, because you've changed the plot.

And you're realizing that this "childhood friend" of yours... Is acting a little bit differently.

You don't remember him being that much of a weirdo in the original movie. If you remember correctly,he was just like, a little bit of a shy loser boy who was infatuated with the MC and liked gaming. But now... Now he's, what, a masochist? Or did they just not add that fact into the movie? You couldn't have forgotten. If the love interest was openly a weirdo like he is to you, you wouldn't have dozed off in the first place. Just now, he literally asked to be crushed under your right shoe. Crushed. Under. Your. Shoe. How the hell is that boring? You'd be 101% AWAKE. You love freaks more than anything, damn!

Now that you think about it, he's more than just a bit of a weirdo.

He's been calling and acting like he's your boyfriend. Hell, he acts like a CLINGY boyfriend too. Asking where you're going, clinging to you, giving you those damned boba eyes everytime you talk to others, specifically dudes. Fun fact but you wish he'd stop abusing those eyes of his because fuck, how can you resist him when he's looking at you like that?

Worse of it all, you can't do anything. Not when your key out and helper, Ai, said to act cool and to not arouse any suspicion from him.

Ai's also another character in this movie by the way. His character trope: the hot side character that barely gets screentime and is also sentient. And right now, he's helping you find a way back to your world... Meanwhile you've been stuck in Ezra's apartment under the guise of a mandatory childhood bestie sleepover.

It's been days since you've actually last seen Ai in person because of how much Ezra, your "childhood friend", has been clinging to you. In just the past 3 days, he's made you watch the entire fnaf lore theory THRICE. And not once have you stepped outside his apartment. Not because you don't want to, but because he'd always find some bullshit excuse to keep you with him.

"O-oh but kitty you'd miss this very important scene... Where freddy goes hurhurhuhr"

"Kitty! Kitty you can't leave now! We have to watch it again! What? We watch it more times so it gets engrained into our brains! That's just common sense!"

"Keeping you h-hostage?! I'm not! All friend do this! It's just u-um, friend bonding time! We haven't been around each other in so long you know..."

It's weird. Just plain weird.

Thankfully you still have your phone so you could occassionally sneak a message or two to Ai, informing him of your current situation. As long as that black haired man baby doesn't see everything is fine...

y/n: currently watching a new video, thank gyatt for that

y/n: would actually jump if i have to watch more fnaf

y/n: erm... lowkey think this is worse though... its a video about danganronpa

Ai: don't worry, i'll be there to save you in a bit

Ai: i might have found a way to get you out of here

y/n: fr? ty for that silly goober :3 all while im chilling on the couch having some me time :333 ur so skibidi

"A-ahem! y/n who are you texting..?"

Shit. This damned guy! What does he think he's doing? Just popping up the second you finally have some alone time?! Wasn't he passed out from lunch just minutes ago???

"Erm... Just a friend?"

Ezra stares at you with wide round eyes, lps turning down into a frown before he sits uncomfortably close, pressing his long, lanky body against yours. Always the tall skinny guys that are the biggest weirdos man.

"Just a... friend?"

"Yeah, just a friend."

I mean, it wasn't wrong. Ai really was just a friend to you. Or at least that's what you think. To Ezra and his fucked up mind... Maybe you were abandoning him? And now he's jealous and might want to go batshit crazy on AI?

Haha! No way that would happen! Ezra, no matter how crazy he is, wouldn't go that far! He's just a loser who has an added interest in you now after all!

The look in his eyes say otherwise though.

"But I'm your friend, aren't I?"

Cold, dark, obsessive.

The way he stared at you sent literal chills down your spine. He had never looked at you in such a way before. Pathetic and needy, yes. But never this... Whatever the hell this was.

You back into the fabric of the seat, feeling a cold sweat line the skin of your forehead. All of a sudden, the room feels all too small and it's like you're trapped in his apartment with no way to escape.

It was suffocating.

"I'm the only friend you need. The only one you need, y/n."

You don't really recall a time where he's called you y/n so easily. It's always some stupid petname like kitty. And goddamn it, you wish he'd just say that instead. Hearing him call your name while he's staring into your very soul like this is making you feel like you're about to shit your pants.

"U-uh, okay dude chill out. You're my dearest friend, alright? Look let's jsut go back to watching that danganronpa analysis..."

And just like that, the terrifying aura IMMEDIATELY disappears and you're left with a sopping wet puppy of a man. You decide to make the first move, fiddling with the remote as you stand up and move close to the coffee table. Anythinng to gte away from this weird bipolar guy. How the hell did he develop this? A new character arc maybe?

In the midst of you trying to look anywhere but Ezra, you fail to realize that he had already taken your phone, leaving you with no way to contact Ai now.

"Now you'll never have another friend again..."

"What was that?"

"O-oh I said now you'll never be bored again! Haha!"

Right, totally what he said.

[whetstonefires]

I would argue the System could very well be just a person talking through a sort of robot voice modulator and half-assedly staying in character as the Unrelenting Mechanized Facts Of Reality

(a concept sqq is heavily conditioned to bow to, between the inflexible computerized bureaucratic systems that run his homeworld and his understanding of his present dimension as constrained by narrative convention)

and you'd get exactly the same result. There is no proof whatsoever it's actually a nonsapient automated system; Shen Qingqiu just never really questions that concept because it's such a baked-in genre norm, and we all know how reliable a judgment call that is.

But yeah, the System represents the pressures of Genre and Market and Audience, and as readers we are very much deliberately implicated as the beneficiaries of all the contrived bullshit.

I had a lot of fun rotating that particular thread of the narrative in my mind as I went, because I was reading a pirated copy of an unauthorized translation (there wasn't an authorized one yet), and certainly had had no power to withhold money from the author or make demands of her during the story's original run, and was therefore not the intended audience, and arguably not in fact one of the people on whose behalf the System was pulling this shit.

But I was still The Audience; I was still reaping the benefits, even if I didn't have the inflated reader-agency created by the webnovel serial payment format. So it wasn't entirely not @ me.

Also don't forget the narrative is intensely invested (inasmuch as a parody can be) in the concept of being complicit in horrors, so we should not overlook the extent to which mxtx makes the case that she herself, jointly with her readership and the publishing platform, is The True Villain of Scum Villain's Self-Saving System.

(In the sense that the villain is the author, the self-saving consists of Get Food Money.)

[thatdisasterauthor]

I am not sure where my fascination with disasters came from, but I have had it for a long, long time. So much so that I very specifically remember being in Middle School and writing a short story about a tornado hitting our school and trapping all the students in the gym (but none of the teachers, of course, because what fun would it be if the teachers were around?). My poor teacher didn't quite know what to do with me when she tried to pair everyone up by genre to critique one another's stories, as no one else had written something remotely similar. It didn't matter though, I was hooked. That afternoon I was standing in my garage and thinking about how I wanted to grow up to be an author who wrote disaster stories, and I wanted to write one story about each kind of disaster.

After several years (and two agents) trying to get these books picked up traditionally with no luck, I've decided to just do it myself. And so, the Little Disaster Books collection has been born! When you pick up a Little Disaster Book, here's what you're going to get:

A short read. Each book is around 50,000-70,000 words. That's a bit longer than a novella, and shorter than most novels, because sometimes you just need a quick book, not a door-stopper.

Each book is a standalone. Because, again, sometimes you just need something quick that you don't have to invest in for a decade while you wait for each book to come out.

Lots of queer characters of all sorts. The disaster genre is, unfortunately, pretty notorious for either not having queer characters at all, or killing them off. Little Disaster Books will instead center them and their narratives. But, the stories won't be ABOUT queerness, they'll just have characters that are queer.

No quickie romance. There will be characters in relationships (I'm a sucker for books with couples that are already together at the start), and maybe the first blooms of a potential romance, but nobody is falling head over heels when they should be focused on survival.

No gore for gore's sake. Characters might get hurt, or even die, but these aren't horror books or slasher books or anything in that vein.

A realistic look at disaster. I'm not just obsessed with fictional disasters, I'm obsessed with the real ones too. I have spent a lot of time studying disasters, myths around disasters/disaster response, and the sociology of disasters. With Little Disaster Books I have worked very, very hard to make the books as realistic as possible when it comes to things like civilian responders, everyday heroes, and how disaster response tends to work. At the end of the day they are still fiction, but they're fiction heavily grounded in reality. No "everyone for themselves/we're all animals when the lights go out" nonsense here.

Full endings. There's a bit of a trend in survival thrillers for them to end right at the climax/moment of rescue, or within a few pages of it, even if things haven't been fully wrapped up. Little Disaster Books will all have more rounded endings that delve, at least a little bit, into the aftereffects of what the characters go through, because sometimes the after is the hardest part of all.

The first book in this collection, Lie Down in the Ashes, is launching on Kickstarter on Janaury 15th, 2025! Sign up to be notified on launch here. It is about a group of teens who get caught in the middle of a fast moving wildfire that one of them accidentally starts.

Sign up to be notified on launch here.

[caterkinnie]

I saw that your askbox was open. If i may, can you write a continuation of this ( Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...) with the rest of the dormleaders. It's so cute kasi eh. Also, can you include Rook, Sebek, and Jade in the place of Idia, Azul and Vil. Thx

Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...

❥ ⌗ Characters: Rook Hunt, Sebek Zigvolt, Jade Leech.

❥ ⌗ Tags: not really proofread. rook being silly. sebek being sebek. jade being cute<3

❥ ⌗ a/n: hiiiiii i started this blog when i was 15 and now im 18. crazy right???? happy new year!!!! sorry if its a bit awkward. its been a LONG time since I wrote for these characters.... tysm for your request!

Oh, it's Rook's fault this happened and he knows it.

You two were just having fun, he invited you to the forest just to walk around and relax. It was the sort of activity he'd love doing with you.

The two of you were completely alone, Rook loved to show you around his favorite hidden places, places that you imagine no one has seen before other than him….

And he was happy to do so, it was something you've done millions of times with him.

imagined he was hiding something, as his smile was a little bit too wide, his eyes were a little bit too mischievous. You knew when he was planning to mess up with you.

You were not expecting him to ask if you had a crush on anyone though.

“Eh?! What… Yes you do know him but…. ahh!! Yes, he's blond, why do you ask????”

He was giggling as he asked question after question…

What's his eye color? In what club is he? Is he from Pomefiore? How good is he as a hunter.

“Ah~ Mon cheri, don't get mad at me. I fear I know how you must be talking about… although, I imagine the feelings are reciprocated… Oh, such a beautiful expression you have!”

He has way too much fun with your quirk.

In this case, it wasn't directly to Sebek…

Lilia Vanrouge was extremely curious about you, as Sebek had never shown any interest in friendships with anyone. Let alone spending the amount of time he does with you, and even hesitating when he has to choose between aiding Malleus and having fun with you!

No one else had that effect on him, and you deep down knew it but… as a human, would he ever like you back? Would he feel ashamed to love you? Those questions plagued your mind, and stopped you from pursuing the kind hearted fae…

“What? If I like him…? ah… well… he's really sweet and- and…. Ah!!! Maybe a tiny bit but don't tell him!”

“AH?!?!?!”

And then you heard a loud scream of confusion from outside the door.

One you unfortunately recognized instantly.

Lilia chuckled as the door was bursted open, and Sebek was in front of you, his face was red… he wanted to say something… but something weird happened… He was at a loss for words!

You tried to explain yourself but…

“FOOLISH HUMAN! It's- it's bad manners to speak of someone behind their back! If….. If you wished to… If you wished to talk about those feelings, you must have told me directly, IF NOT THEN HOW COULD I PROPERLY COURT YOU?”

You were trying to impress Jade, but maybe you should have gone with a letter or some kind of book about fungi…

You've never cooked octopus before, and the cooking book wasn't helping at all either!

It seemed easy in theory… but you've tried it a million times and it still is not something you'd want to give to him!

He has really exquisite tastes! And if you mess it up maybe you'll mess this chance with him…

Or maybe you're overthinking.

Right as you were tried to finish the dish (which you were unsatisfied with the presentation and overall taste) you heard a chuckle from behind you.

“My, my… Are my eyes seeing this correctly? Who are you making this for?”

“...Of course it's for you.” No, dang it!

“And why, may I ask? what's the occasion?” His voice had a confused pitch, but his smirk gave it away. He was extremely amused by your attempts.

“....I though… maybe I could gift you this and then ask you out on a date….” No!! Why did you say that????

“...Fuhuhu… You're overcomplicating it… Maybe next time we can try to do it together? I can give you a few tips as well…. since it seems you've been trying for a few days, that is…”

He knew all of this time?!

Wait, is that a date?!

Reblogs are appreciated!

[scummy-writes]

2025 Simp Calendars Are HERE!

Going on strong for another year, I'm sharing my yearly ikemen calendars with yall to print out for free! These calendars not only mark down ikemen birthdays (from select games) but they also have a slot for you to insert your own photo of whatever you'd like! I typically put ikemen.

They were made with my wallet in mind to be wary of when cyb*rd may drop birthday sale sets.

A special thanks to @natimiles for compiling a list of bdays across all the cybird games, it was very handy for me to use as reference! Another special thanks to @rjthirsty for helping me get the ikemen villains emblems to use on here.

Here is an example of Jan 2025! Beside it, an example of the december 2024 calendar printed out, because I'm too tired to print out jan 2025 tonight.

Download Links: Ikevamp/Ikepri/ikevil Calendar || Ikevamp Calendar || Ikepri Calendar || Ikevil Calendar || Blanks

Important Notes:

I've included a 2026 version of January!! Please do not get it confused with the 2025 January!!

This was made for fun, and I am not an artist at all, so there may be small imperfections and boring design choices. I am sharing since friends and followers were interested.

The size of the calendars overall are made to print on a full sheet of regular printer paper (8.5x11). (I highly recommend using cardstock if you have the option!) You should be able to use your computer’s default printing option to print these off fine.

The size for the customized photo window is 1129x1241 pixels. You should be able to edit this in any program designed for editing photos, I even tested it and made sure you could put in a photo using MS Paint!

Keep in mind that when printing, some printers may skew the colors a bit and make them either lighter or darker.

For the jp spoiler characters/newest characters in ikevamp and ikepri, their bdays are not listed. I don't have their emblems/crests so I could not add them. (for ikepri this is azel, matias, and kagari, I can't find a clean version anywhere for them)

For the JP spoiler characters in ikevil, however, I was able to get their emblems!

Ikevamp has no July birthdays, so there is just a blank calendar in the Ikevamp Only set. In the other sets, it will only show the Ikepri/ikevil bday for that month.

The same thing happens in june, but with ikevil instead.

If there is an issue like a misspelling or a suitor’s birthday being listed wrong, please let me know 🙏

If you enjoy this or end up using it, please consider reblogging or commenting! That way I can consider revisiting this in 2026 and trying to make improvements based on the interest.

If you super duper enjoy it and feel very generous, I do have a ko-fi link in my pinned post, but these are 100% free to download and do not feel pressured to do anything else.

Ikevamp Masterlist || Ikepri Masterlist || Ikemen server (18+)

Tag list: @keithtopia @xbalayage @bubblexly @queengiuliettafirstlady @yarnnerdally

@keithsandwich @nightghoul381 @redsky-morning @fang-and-feather @namine-somebodies-nobody

@pawnkyyy @floydsteeth @faustianfascination @yvies-whore @solacedeer

@chemila @valkyyriia @weirdwriter69

[littlescratches]

Tbf as a bilingual German, I also stumbled over that mostly because we don't use the -ing ending in German. OP truly Denglished this for the lulz

Baco to the original point, though: The artificial social distance that gets injected with the use of Sie in places where the character's relationship has clearly moved past that into du territory is fucking annoying.

What gets my goat, though, is the unimaginative translation of idioms.

And the realization that it doesn't have to be that way. We recently watched Knives Out in German. And it was fine. Amazing even. Fun!

I didn't stumble over anything. The choice of VAs was great, the translation fitting. Nothing that took me out of watching this movie that I have seen 3 times in English now and thus know pretty well where some phrasing might provide stumbling blocks for translation/voice acting.

and it makes me wonder: Is this a question of care? Of the amount of money available for translating a blockbuster movie vs one of many series a TV channel has bought? What about Netflix & co? I know their subs suck ass now (used to be good), but I've never watched much stuff dubbed on there and don't have subscription anymore.

the main criticism of german dubs i always see is "the voices sound so fake and unnatural" which personally never really bothered me because the real enemy here is the constant siezing

[alextydaisuda123]

"Dance Tower"

So... a new AU?:") ... I don't know, I drew everything on pure enthusiasm. And I was shocked by myself when I realized that... THIS WILL BE MY FIRST QUIET AU! °□° Without any serious plot! This AU will exist purely for fun. Why not. No, I did not refuse dark and tense plots, I just wanted to create something calm. So meet >:)✨️

Dance Tower - this AU will be based only on dancing. Yes, there will be elements of competitions and combat, and only because most of the dances are tied to combat due to the characteristics of the bosses.

Plot? Well, as I said, there is nothing serious there. Everything is simple. Peppino and Gustavo receive a letter from Pizzahead with a simple invitation to the tower to dance, whether they go or stay, it is their choice, their no one forced them. But they went, why not :). And now, let's move smoothly to the characters. And yes, I will say in conclusion that the characters have remained unchanged, but they will have some added facts and details. And yes, almost all the characters will be friends with each other.

Peppino. His dance style is hip-hop with elements of breakdance. He is still anxious and afraid to perform in public, so he dances either only with Gustavo, or alone. But when he receives an invitation, he still decides to go there, purely out of curiosity.

Facts: Peppino has accumulated a lot of scars throughout his life (half of which he does not remember where he got), so he hides them under thick clothes (even in the heat he walks like that, poor thing🥲). Only Gustavo knows about the scars. He can still cook (though he does not have a restaurant at all).

Gustavo and Brick. Their dance style is Flamenco. In fact, Brick initially did not know how to dance, but when he became interested in what Gustavo dances, he decided to learn. Gustavo is more confident in dancing and is not shy in public.

Facts: He tried to learn breakdancing from Peppino, but alas, he realized that it was not his genre, although he knows a few tricks from there that he can perform. He met Brick purely by chance in the tower, when he tried to dance with Noisette, whom he met on one of the floors of the tower. Brick really liked Gustavo's style, so he tied a red belt on himself and asked Gustavo to do his hair :3.

Pepperman. His dance style is ballet, with elements of allegro, boxing or something like that. He has been dancing ballet since an early age, which he really liked. But over time, he added elements of combat to it, which makes his ballet look somewhat sharp and dynamic (which surprised Peppino himself when he took part in a dance with him).

Facts: Because of his additions to the dance style, it is difficult for him to find the music he needs, so he approaches it very slowly, but reverently. He still draws. He tried to mix dancing and drawing before, but he cannot concentrate on anything in particular, so he does drawing separately, namely when he is resting. During dancing, his legs suffer the most, so they are constantly bandaged (jumps and kicks do their job). He has many costumes that he can use in dance. He loves to wear makeup, so he also does his own makeup (sometimes Noisette does it).

Vigilante. His dance style is cowboy country. In his dance, he uses a gun (safe), because it adds more ... epicness to it? Dynamics?🤨...well, yes, something like that. He takes dancing quite seriously, initially not perceiving other genres. Over time, of course, it passed, but he does serious preparation for dancing.

Facts: He has been dancing not since childhood, since he initially believed that he and dance were something incompatible. But when he grew up, he decided to try to find something suitable for him, and since he loved country music, he began to dance in a similar style. That's where his love for the cowboy theme came from. The ribbon on his hat was given to him by PM, as a sign of their relationship and joint partnership in dancing.

Noise. His style is Hip Hop with elements of break dance and ... rap🥲. Well, yeah, why not |:). Has been doing this since childhood. Initially, his family taught him to dance something simple and national, like Harabe. But he quickly got bored and learned something else (nobody forbade him in general). When he fights in a dance with Peppino, he can use random things to win and get more rating.

Facts: Initially, he thought that his dance style was special, but when Bruno himself repeated his tricks, even did better, he softened opinion about it a little. When he met Noisette, he was ashamed to admit that he usually dances when she said that she dances, and he hid it for a long time (they were then able to combine their dances, so everything is generally fine now). He doesn't really try hard on his images😅.

Noisette. Her style is ballet, compatible with roller skating or ice skating (mostly rollers). Her dances are mostly complete improvisation. Still as cheerful and energetic.

Facts: When she danced with Gustavo, she didn't have the goal of defeating him somehow, but just to dance from the heart. She still cooks different goodies, and they turn out quite tasty (if you're really hungry, of course, but Noise will eat everything). Her costume is also some kind of improvisation, since she wanted to diversify the ballet costume. She sometimes likes to arrange a fashion show with PM.

Fake Peppino (Bruno). He has the same dance style as the regular Peppino, only also with elements of improvisation. Initially, Bruno was not conceived as a clone who needs to defeat Peppino, but purely as an ordinary participant, like everyone else. So he wasn't created with evil intent.

Facts: Despite his love for frogs, he asked Noisette and Pepperman to sew him something frog-related, which they did very well (except there were also pants, but they were abandoned due to inconvenience). On his floor, there are many dance machines that he plays (either alone or with friends, if they are not busy). His relationship with Pizzahead is not bad, yes, he does not particularly care for him, but he does not torture him, but simply treats him like a child, whom he can occasionally notice and does not refuse to dance with him.

Pizzahead. His dance style is a little special, namely tap dancing. It is special because for other bosses this genre of dance is "from the old days" (plus the clothes refer to the old days (and to the image of Charlie Chaplin🥲👍)). In this AU, he is not evil, but he can sometimes get along with other bosses because of little things or because of the thirst for victory in some contests or simple competitions. But someday he will have to admit his defeat. And so, he is a simple smiling fool, nothing more.

Facts: The reason why Pizzahead invited Peppino to his tower is because he saw him on TV purely by chance. He admired his movements (even if they were constrained due to Peppino's insecurity) and decided to invite him as a friend. Of course, he did not expect Peppino to come, but he was prepared for his appearance in advance. His cane serves not only as a dance element, but also purely to maintain posture, since he has minor back problems due to his tall stature. He has a bad habit of tap dancing at night, which keeps others awake. Oops.

That's how it is :D. I will occasionally draw this AU for fun :>. I hope you like it^^"✨️.

[plethorawrites]

Guys! Clark has started to invade too!!! Anyway, today I was thinking about Smallville Clark Kent (personal go to when thinking about the character) with a new neighbor from the city...

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Clark Kent: Who sees you by the fence, petting his family's horses, and doesn't recognize you, which is odd because he recognizes everyone in such a small town.

Clark Kent: Who quickly realizes from the way you dress to the lack of an accent that you're not just new in town, but from some larger city that probably has apartment buildings with more tenants than the entire town has people.

Clark Kent: Who brushes off your apology for petting the horses, which you'd only done because you've never seen any in real life and couldn't resist how sweet they looked.

Clark Kent: Who watches you insist on going home to unpack instead of keep talking, but runs into you at school the next day and offers to show you around.

Clark Kent: Who you offer a ride home in your car as a thank you for being an extremely patient tour guide.

Clark Kent: Who accepts, under the condition that you let him show you the town too and when you tell him you pretty much have with how small it is, shakes his head and tells you there's a lot of places people don't know about aside from him or a few other kids.

Clark Kent: Who not only shows you his favorite places the next time you're both free, but also says he would be glad to teach you to ride, if you ever wanted.

Clark Kent: Who is thrilled when you take him up on it and spends several hours on a trail with you at a calm pace, keeping close in case anything suddenly spooked your horse. Although they were incredibly good horses so there weren't any problems.

Clark Kent: Who was fascinated by watching you slowly get more accustomed to the town—wearing clothes that were from a local boutique instead of a designer brand, engaging in the rather silly but beloved town traditions, even cutting off some of the friends from the city who you realized weren't really your friends at all after they once visited and immediately started making fun of Clark and his friends.

Clark Kent: Who was surprised at first, when you showed up at his family's door one day asking to help with the animals, but quickly got used to you coming over to help him feed or bathe them, which you claimed was your way of thanking him for the riding lessons but he suspected you just wanted an excuse to be with the animals.

Clark Kent: Who knew you'd fit in with his friends after they got over their own prejudice of you being rude or pretentious because you're from the city and likes hanging out with you with them but likes it just as much, maybe more, when everyone leaves and you're able to stay a bit longer in the barn.

Clark Kent: Who leans out the window next to you, enjoying the breeze as the sun sets and tells you he's glad you moved to Smallville.

Clark Kent: Who sees you shudder from the cold and instantly wraps his jacket around you, conveniently ignoring your blushing cheeks in case he was misreading the situation.

Clark Kent: Who still carefully tucks a piece of hair out of your face—while the voice in head screams not to ruin things—just to see it better and wets his lip while staring at yours.

Clark Kent: Who leans in slowly, waiting for the moment you'd slap him and walk out for daring to try something with you, but only sees you leaning in too.

Clark Kent: Who kisses you for the first time while you're in the barn, wearing his jacket, but promises himself then and there that it wouldn't be the last.

[unluckilyimnot]

Okay, but bonten with like a SUPER soft gf. Like, we talk like cry on every sad movie ivies with an animal to be specific). Takes things other says to heart. Often like cry over small things and stops to pet EVERY single animal she sees.

Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel like doing this one 😭 I know it’s lowkey weird.

Bonten with a soft gf!

Characters: rindou, ran, kaku, mikey, sanzu, kokonoi

fluff / no tw / wc: 900+

Note : no way it's so cute don't ever worry !! I love it, thank you sm ! I dispatched it between all the characters. I hope it's fine.

m.list | rules

Rindou never minded more than that the fact that you cry a lot. He loves it a lot and it makes him chuckle and laugh more than anything else. He's always there to wipe your tears away when you cry when the dog dies in the movies, or when you tear up at any inconveniences. You wear your heart on your sleeve, you're sensible, the opposite of him, and he cares and loves you for that.

Yet he's the first one to draw a radical line the second you get hurt, in any way, by someone. It's silly and fun until some abuse it and use it against you or to hurt you. He will find who did this, who made you cry and will burn their house down.

Sanzu sighs a lot when you decide something was wrong when he, in fact, didn't care. Yet his heart always skips a beat when he hears you speaking louder than you usually do, mad at people treating him poorly. He listens to you for a while before he finally steps in and holds your hands when he's feeling cheesy, or your elbows when he's a bit tired or high.

"Babe, it's really nothing. Don't worry yourself like that, you'll get wrinkles." He honestly makes you laugh every time, or at least confort you that he doesn't care about anyone's opinion besides yours. And oh how much you love and care for him everyday, he can't even doubt it. He wished you'd stop hurting yourself over things like this, but recognize that your sweet nature is definitely what he loves the most about you.

Ran laughs at you when you get offended for nothing. It can be about something going your way to work to you spiking your coffee on the counter. It's his own comic relief of the day when you're stroming around, a deep frown on your face making you look like a small, angry animal but still defenseless. His laughter always makes it worse, without mentioning his venom filled remarques, to make fun of your overreacting nature. To the point you can cry and not speak to him for hours – but for sure mentioning it all to Rindou.

Ran hates it when you team up with him, because you wouldn't talk to him but Rindou would, on the other hand, mention you and everything you told him to Ran. He's always making the first step to you and apologizing with probably a hundred wroth bouquet and your favorite snacks – promising you he'll never do it again, when he will most certainly do it again.

Seeing you enjoying small things about life is the reason why Mikey kept you around at first, you reminded him of his younger self and his friends at that time. Every time you stop to pet a stranger's dog, a small smile shows on his lips, one you rarely get to see even if you're always the reason for it.

You listen to him so carefully the few times he does talk to you, it makes him feel alive again. You're doing most of the talking and you're always so sorry to take this kich when that's what he loves about you. He makes sure to tell you that he likes it from time to time, just to be sure you won't stop. Your heart is so soft and warm, welcoming him every time you see him again with new facts you learn and an unconditional love that overflows everywhere, and he gets the chance to be showered with it every time.

Kokonoi gets used to you stopping all the time the second you catch the glimpse of a stay animal. So he instinctively adds ten minutes to every trip you two have to do, even if it's only to walk to his car because there's a few stray cats in the parking lot and he's sure you're gonna stop or even wait for them to walk out from their hide spot.

But he just can't bring himself to get impatient when your eyes light up at the sight of the small cats. The way you jolt in joy when their cold nose finally touches your hand, and you look up to him with the softest smile he ever had the chance to witness. Yes, you're usually late, but he just had to snap a picture of you with the white kitten and everyone is accepting the fact that those ten minutes of your happiness are worth the delayed meetings.

Kakucho's always there to rub your back when you cry in front of a movie. He never sees why you cry particularly, but always listen thoughtfully to what you have to say about it. He brings you tissues, sometimes even wipes your nose for you and lets you dive into his arms when a character you like dies. He can't help but tell himself how sensible you are every time, but also how he loves that. You bring him back to his human nature and what it is to be emphatic about normal things, far from his rough life where his life is at risk every time he steps outside the door.

To that, he hopes he'll never be the reason for your tears, and that he'll always be there to wipe them away and shush you down.

Sorry its rather short, tell me if you want a particular hc with one or a whole os.

Let me know if you liked it !

[thewadapan]

Maybe Nost's best story! Also his least fun. Definitely did not like reading most of it. Would recommend reading... maybe any of the others over this one?

I think with The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, Nost has managed to write a book which is haunted.

Stepping back a little. Herschel Schoen seems to have been conceived almost as a short story, which only happens to be as long as it is as a result of the (deliberately) belaboured and verbose prose used by all the narrators. It's much closer to The Northern Caves in this respect, which I remember as being mostly straightforward and intelligible, with only the highly-divisive ending leaving me with a dangling "??????" to grapple with. Meanwhile, with Floornight and Almost Nowhere, I often struggled to keep up with the object-level facts of what was even happening in the plot/world, and I feel like I mostly read those stories "on vibes", following them mostly in terms of their subtext.

So yeah, Herschel Schoen to me felt like it was using the "fairytale" format of being a Christmas story to streamline things as much as possible, such that both the object-level events of the story and the batshit conceptual-melting-pot subtext were more or less legible to me, despite Herschel's incredibly unreliable prose. There is a sense in which it feels like a children's story to me. It has very few characters, and those characters are extraordinarily archetypal.

So I do think Almost Nowhere retains its crown as Nost's most ambitious, most revolutionary, and most complex novel—if I say that I found Herschel Schoen "better", it's only because I feel I was able to understand it. It speaks more to my failure as a reader than anything.

In terms of my experience as a reader, it was fairly similar to that described by @recordcrash in his review. Most of the story is a fucking struggle to get through, mostly because of... the prose? The pacing? These issues are really the same issue: what few events occur in the book take ages to describe, and the fact that every recounting takes forever means that there physically isn't room to cram in more events. And as Makin Recordcrash puts it: I just don't enjoy hearing the thoughts of an unwell mind, particularly at length. All of Nost's books have it, this entirely-made-up concept which "you just wouldn't understand" but which it nevertheless will tell you about at length. There's Salby and mundum in The Northern Caves, there's Azad and the aliens in Almost Nowhere, there's whatever the metaphysics shit was in Floornight (I forgor), and this is the book that has the most of it, proportionally.

(My girlfriend bounced right off it- actually, let me use this opportunity to tell a story. When we first met, we were talking about the internet or something, and for whatever reason at one point I unironically said something like "oh yeah I read this cool novel set on a forum but you probably wouldn't have heard of it" and she just went "oh do you mean The Northern Caves?" and I briefly became convinced that she was some sort of psyop intended to oneshot me, a notion I have still not been able to shake over two years later. Point is her remark on the first two chapters of Herschel Schoen was something like "it's too Nostalgebraist for me", which I think is understandable.)

Anyway, like Makin, I struggled with most of the book, only for Chapter 21 to be so fucking good that it sort of retroactively made the rest of the book good, at least insofar as it was mostly necessary to set up such an audacious ending? Even knowing that this had been Makin's reaction, I wasn't prepared to believe it—again, usually Nost books are very much the other way around—but lo and behold, the twist is in fact very clever, very fun to read, and very aligned with my aesthetic interests.

All that said, I do feel like Makin sort of bombed through the book (by comparison, it's taken me almost two weeks to finish it), and maybe missed out on some of the more fun and interesting stuff the book is doing on a thematic level. Below, I'll try to delve into my interpretations in more detail.

I've seen a few takes from people that the main thematic throughlines of this book are a bit disconnected from one another, but to me this couldn't be further from the truth.

I identified four main themes, in descending order of prominence: "neurodivergence", "AI", "media", and "capitalism". I guess you could say "Christmas" is something of a fifth ur-theme, which dovetails into these in superficial ways:

Neurodivergence—the idea of "believing in Santa Claus" is framed as stunted development, a delusion which reveals someone to be less mature mentally than they are physically. The book is specifically concerned with contrasting dysfunctional "child" behaviour with functional "adult" behaviour, flipping these ideas on their head by having Ruth and Miriam basically lose it over the course of the story. A sister inverted. Also, the "preparations" needed to be made before Christmas morning are very much analogised with obsessive compulsions, right?

AI—like Santa Claus, something which promises to fulfil all our wishes, instantly, at the same time.

Media—particularly in terms of relations between Christianity and... secular Christmas, right? The story is very much riffing on the structure of Christmas stories specifically. To me, it feels like a world literally dreamed up based on Christmas stories. That, more than anything, is why it's set in New York, I think.

Capitalism—notions of "wanting", of meritocracy. I don't know, we all know "A Christmas Carol", I don't need to explain this one.

Like, if I had to guess at the genesis of this book, based on Nostalgebraist's comments, I feel like it's taking the starting point of "story about what if the AI doomers were right" -> "through the lens of Christmas" -> "[everything else in the story]". Of course there are tons of other influences in there, but those to me feel like the two ideas with the most explanatory power.

But even if you discount the underlying idea "Christmas", I don't think you could tell a good story about AI (in its current form) without writing about neurodivergence, media, or capitalism. If we're tasked with imagining a non-human mind, it makes sense to first imagine the most-non-human human mind, right? If we're talking about the machine's output, its facsimile of media, we have to talk about the real thing too, right? And if we're asking about the purpose of AI, what exactly it is we're trying to industrialise, what scarcity we are trying to erase, then we have to talk about capitalism as well! For me this was all perfectly obvious, I dunno.

I was pleased that I noticed many of the same things @weaselandfriends identified in his list of observations on the book. When it described the wall of doors in the living room, my mind went, "that's fucking weird!", though I didn't really think too deeply about it. The same things goes for all the anachronisms, which I think is one of the story's best gimmicks. Yes, for most of the story, they serve to create a "timeless" atmosphere, evoking all these Christmas stories at once, while simultaneously putting into doubt the reality of what Herschel and Miriam are describing.

But then, of course, with the twist, I think it's pretty hard not to read these as anything other than hallucinations conjured by the AI. And what I think is particularly brilliant is that the story at no point calls direct attention to the anachronisms as being of particular significance—you only notice them because you know enough "facts" about the real world to notice them—which naturally calls into question the elements of the story which are wholly ficticious, where there's no ground truth to compare against. Just how real are Herschel, Miriam, Ruth, anyone!? And does it even matter how real they are?

Part of the book's "magic trick", as I read it, is that both interpretations of Herschel's POV are able to coexist within the reality of the story. We can imagine that there really existed a boy perhaps called Herschel Schoen (just as we can imagine there really existed a guy called Jesus? This is silly, pretend I didn't say that) who perhaps lived in New York City and lived with some kind of delusion, perhaps regarding an Original Creation that only babies remember. Like, even this much isn't certain, perhaps Herschel is entirely hallucinated; the story is in fact preoccupied with the question of whether or not there's even any difference. Anyway, at some point, the AI apocalypse happens (I think this is one thing we can be pretty confident about), and for the AI's own purposes, Herschel is resurrected/recreated (again like Christ- disregard this aside!) in an "emended" form, where whatever changes are made mean that he is in fact right about the Original Creation and the future etc, his mind really was tampered with. The concept of "emendation" seems to me to be the biggest point in favour of the book overall believing that a substitution is not the same as the original; that the "transformation" of one shape into another does not mean it becomes the other, as its own history remains distinct (much as the "original" events of whatever happened to the "original" Herschel on the "original" Christmas Day can be said to have, in some sense, happened—and cannot, should not, be "forgotten"). But maybe these elements of the story were intended to be disparate, though, or related in some other way, and I'm just conflating them?

One of my favourite interpretations that I've seen raised in a couple of places is that Herschel's writings, with which he literally armours himself, are in fact literally protecting him against oblivion, because the AI can only learn based on the written word or recorded speech. It doesn't really matter what happens to the papers, so long as they are written at all. Herschel pours so much of himself into those papers so as to be understood, and in the end he is understood—if not by Miriam and Ruth, then by the only being he needs to be understood by: this machine. He secures his own existence, in at least some limited form, in the "Original Creation", simply through his writing. I think Herschel is the "most real" part of the story.

It's Miriam, though—the second-"most real" element—that I think makes this story haunted. It's the way she packs all those papers into a suitcase, and for the briefest of moments you can breathe a sigh of relief, that we're one step closer to understanding how this book came to be, in-universe. But immediately, it's obvious that this explains nothing, it explains less than nothing, because there are all these chapters which just don't fit, they can't be neatly contained in that suitcase. Bavitz draws direct parallels between the inexplicable frame narrative and the anachronisms, and he's absolutely right to do so. The story is often very careful about providing something which looks "quite right", at a glance, but the moment you think about it, this pit opens up under you. Something about this metatextual conceit actually makes my skin crawl.

It feels pat to say, "oh, that's because it's trying to evoke AI hallucinations". I feel like that's only part of it, because again, most of Nost's novels have this to some extent. But yeah, I think if you wanna read Herschel Schoen as a horror novel, then this is what is scary about it. Conceptually, everything with Miriam mainly recalls for me the idea of "crashes" from Almost Nowhere, which were one of the big horror elements there, the idea that the world you're walking around in is actually, imperceptibly, some kind of not-world filled with not-people. But more directly, I find myself remembering a bit from the third act of OCTO (a criminally underrated and under-discussed webnovel) where a superintelligence is trying to "resurrect" a human, and keeps putting her in increasingly-lifelike simulated "habitats" to try and create the right set of "inputs" that will make her function properly—i.e., without just like, screaming. I feel like that is what we see happen to Miriam in this book. I feel like, when the lights go out, at the end, it has nothing to do with light at all: it's more that the machine just no longer needs to simulate a world for Miriam, at all. The transmission stops. And then what becomes of her?

I think this sort of brings us to Ruth, doesn't it? A big point is made about how there's a difference between "Miriam" and "my sister, Miriam". As though in the latter, the reality of "Miriam" in the training data is watered down by all these tropes surrounding sisterhood. I mean, fuck, maybe that's where the incest stuff comes from, right? I feel like similarly, there's a reading for Ruth where the AI is first conflating these images of "a mother" with these images of "a terrorist". She acts like a fucking cartoon character for much of the book, as many of the less-well-drawn characters do, and I think that's entirely deliberate. As she draws more on the "terrorist" tropes, she stops being a "mother". And again I think this is what Nostalgebraist has always done so fucking well, in that the bullshit sci-fi allegory stuff can also just be read on an entirely character-driven level: here is a resentful, neglectful, ultimately abusive mother, here's the emotional reality of that, heightened and communicated.

I think this provides a vague stab at an explanation for the beating scene that Bavitz found so confusing. It's like the AI draws on this trope of like... the mother, in the kitchen, with the frying pan. It puts the pan in her hand. But it's not actually a frying pan, it's just the image of a frying pan. In reality, did Herschel's mother beat him? How did she beat him? Hell, maybe she didn't, maybe the AI just got so caught up in playing out the trope of the abusive parent that is gets to the point of this beating, and then just dream-logics itself to the next thing in its training data, where of course the beating never happened. I don't like that, it feels like we're gaslighting the kids here (which I think is very much the allegory intended) by saying it was just a hallucination. I think something like it happened in reality, and cannot, should not, be "forgotten". But I think the book does want you to think that its depiction does, in some way, break from reality. Hell, in much the same way that child abuse might be said to break the reality of family? Nah, that's too pat, isn't it?

I guess what I'm trying to get at here is that, ironically, I found the novel was at its best, and at its most human, when it was writing frankly about the experience of mental illness, about family, about institutions, about childhood. So what's maybe frustrating is that I'm not actually convinced Nost is capable of writing a... shall we call it a "normal" story about those things? A story with no metatextual bullshit, no sci-fi conceit, but a realist story. There are parts of all his books, where I really think that the explanation for why they are the way they are is that they are "bad on purpose", and all the bullshit is a way of turning these shortcomings into strengths. The self-effacing voice which whispers that the characters aren't sufficiently well-drawn, are too cartoonish—well, what if that was the point? What if there was a reason for that, in the story?

But honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Straightup, if these were normal stories set in reality, I wouldn't be fucking reading them. This is a web author who's trained himself on a bunch of classic lit, and a bunch of anime or whatever, and has smooshed those influences together and rocket-fuelled the result. It's inimitable. I deeply admire just how experimental Nostalgebraist's writing is. No-one else is doing it like him.

Anyway, what else. Herschel gets described as having a "shell" at various points, and Frederick's surname is "Eggert". Is that anything?

The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen

My fourth novel, The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, is now available in full.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

[duachai]

HANA, DUL, SET : 101 - PARK SUNGHOON

Just hit a 5th of the bottle and I'm in for it, I'm in for it

♱ PAIRING : PARK SUNGHOON X MALE READER

♱ SYNOPSIS : After a match and some banter, a party becomes the setting for a darker plot against M/n, fueled by jealousy from his own team. Sunghoon, Enha's captain, initially reluctant, steps in to protect M/n from a dangerous situation, leading to an unexpected moment of connection between the two amidst the rivalry.

♱ CONTENT WARNING : This writing contains explicit sexual content and mature themes.

♱ AUTHOR'S NOTE : Hey my lovelies!!! First of all, Happy New Year!!!!! Thank you guys so much for supporting me last year and I promise you we're about to go in this year! As for changes in this chapter from the old vers, I added more scenes and more clarity. And yes, Heejake is an official secondary couple in the story because why not lol they won't drown out Sunghoon and M/n so don't worry because I've gotten some dms about that lol. Ofc gimme your feedback & questions, let me know how you're feeling and I will see you guys next Wednesday!!!! P.S I'm using Lim Sungjin as a face claim for M/n just because I personally need to put a face to the character.

LINKS : Wattpad | Kofi | Book Link | Masterlist

The bus stop was a battleground for the Enha and Fifty-forty volleyball teams, though it seemed the conflict was more about claiming over the street than any real animosity. The two schools, only a short distance apart, could have easily shared the cramped space and the same bus, but instead, they faced off across the street, each side glaring at the other.

On one side stood the Enha students in their black and red uniforms; on the other, the Fifty-forty students in their bright yellow and white. In the middle of this colorful divide, two students sat close together on the sidewalk, a contrast to the tension around them. Kim Sunoo, in his Enha black, leaned his head on Shin M/n's shoulder, who wore the Fifty-forty yellow.

They were the bestfriends despite their schools' rivalry, and of course, everyone hated that. Always going out, studying together, and even leaving matches together after the Fifty-forty team absolutely decimates the Enhas. Sunoo didn't seem to care though. He claims to just be playing for fun but everyone knows he only joined so he could see M/n sweaty up close.

Sunoo was the Enha team's middle blocker, and had a knack for making the least glamorous position look effortless. His sister, however, was not a fan of his mingling with the Fifty-forty crowd, especially after the last night's game.

"Yah, Kim Sunoo!" His sister's voice cut through the tension. Sunoo lifted his head with a start, and M/n's eyes flashed with a brief, he swore he saw a flash of disgust in her coffee-brown eyes.

Turning to M/n with an apologetic pout, Sunoo said, "Sorry, she's got this thing about us hanging around Fifty-forty after... well, last night."

M/n chuckled, placing a comforting hand on Sunoo's thigh. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you tonight at the party."

With a reassuring smile, Sunoo headed towards his sister, who quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him away. M/n dusted off his slacks, exchanging a grin with Wonbin, who had approached.

"I don't get why you hang out with him. Are you pinning him or something?" Wonbin asked, curiosity piqued.

M/n shook his head, a playful smile on his lips. "Oh no, Wonbin. My pin is already stuck deep into someone else." He nodded toward Park Sunghoon, who stood across the street, glaring back with a brooding expression

🏐

The bus ride to the schools was chaotic. Some students had to push up together in the seats and there was endless bickering. One of these days a full blown out brawl is going to happen.

After school, Sunghoon, perched atop a cafeteria table, stared at his phone, figuring out the best way he could tell his teammate they were in a crisis.

caphoon. We need to have a serious convo. Meeting in 5 mins

noonoo. de there soon!!!

heeso. Gimme 10, gotta do something first

caphoon. This is important

heeso. I get that but I can't be there right this moment, Sung

caphoon. Wth is more important?

j. def just saw him and Jake walk in the bathroom together lol

nik. yucky

Sunghoon groaned aloud. Things were a mess with their team. Morale was at an all-time low, and some members were starting to lose interest in volleyball altogether. Some had found distractions in each other, and others just didn't care anymore. Senior year was supposed to be their year to shine, but volleyball wasn't even the focus now. The cracks were starting to show, and it was making Sunghoon anxious.

"Captain~"

Sunghoon whipped his head around to see Jungwon and Sunoo heading into the empty cafeteria, throwing their bags onto a nearby table. Jungwon, always perceptive, immediately noticed the tension in Sunghoon's posture and placed a hand on his shoulder, the gesture both comforting and grounding.

"You alright, Hoon?" Jungwon asked, his voice soft but filled with concern.

Sunghoon took a deep breath and leaned his back onto the table. "I don't know. This team... it's falling apart. I just... I don't know how to fix it." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on him.

Sunoo, now kneeled on top of the table with his hands in his lap next to Sunghoon, head hanging over his own, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. "Whatever it is don't stress, we got it."

Sunghoon was lost in thought when the sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention. He looked up just as Jay and Niki strolled into the cafeteria, their usual carefree attitudes contrasting with the serious atmosphere. Jay, with his ever-present smirk, tossed a glance toward Sunghoon and gave a quick nod before flopping down onto an empty seat. Niki, a little more worried, followed, but his eyes quickly flickered over to the group, sensing the tension.

"What's going on?" Niki asked, his voice dripping with concern.

Jay tilted his head, eyeing Sunghoon's furrowed brows and the way his fingers drummed on the table. "This isn't gonna be good." He said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

Sunghoon sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation he'd been avoiding. "People are dropping out, losing focus, doing... other things. We can't even get everyone to show up on time now." He leaned back and looked at his friends, his eyes tired. "We've got a lot to fix, but I'm not sure where to start."

Jay threw his legs up onto the chair, relaxing as he leaned back with an exaggerated sigh. "Sounds like typical senior year shit. People get distracted, forget what matters." He shrugged his shoulders. "We can't let the whole team go down in the shits though. We have a reputation to uphold and a serious ass whooping."

Niki didn't seem to find Jay's usual nonchalance comforting. He narrowed his eyes at Sunghoon. "We will listen if you tell us what we can do."

Sunghoon was about to ease into the momentary relief when the seriousness of the situation hit him once again. He cleared his throat, gathering the attention of the group. "That's not all," he started, his tone more solemn. "We're at risk of being kicked out of the league if we don't find an 8th member soon."

The room went silent at his words. Jungwon's hand paused on Sunghoon's shoulder, and even Jay stopped smirking, the weight of Sunghoon's words settling on the table.

"We need a full roster to keep competing. If we can't get someone on the team before the next match, they'll pull us from the league," Sunghoon explained, his voice low but serious. "That's the reality. If we don't act fast, all of this... all the effort we've put into this year, gone."

The group exchanged glances, a sense of urgency creeping into the air. Niki broke the silence, his usual joking demeanor replaced with determination. "So we find someone. Fast."

Jay leaned forward, his brow furrowing in thought. "We've got options. Maybe we can recruit someone from outside the team?"

Before Sunghoon could respond, the door to the cafeteria swung open, and in walked Jake and Heesung, their appearances anything but typical. Their uniforms were disheveled, hair a mess, and both of them were trying, rather unsuccessfully, to act casual as they walked toward the table.

Hickeys, Heesung's lip gloss all over Jake's face, Jake's fly unzipped. It wasn't hard to tell where they'd just been.

Sunghoon shot them an exasperated look, one eyebrow raised as Heesung tried to smooth his shirt, but the wrinkles from their activities was way too obvious. Jake was the first to speak, though his tone was unusually high-pitched for someone trying to play it cool. "What's going all. Why does everyone look pissed?"

Niki, trying to suppress his grin, shot them a look. "Oh, you know, just a conversation about how you two might be the reason our team is going to shit."

Jake chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "We were just... uh... tutoring."

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, holding his head in his hands. "I can't believe you two right now." His frustration was evident, but his gaze softened as he met their eyes. "Do you know how close we are to getting kicked out of the league?"

Heesung, looking a little guilty, spoke up, his voice apologetic. "We know, Hoon. We were just... needed a moment to—"

"To fuck?" Sunghoon interrupted, his voice rising just slightly. "I'm trying to figure out how we're gonna make it to nationals and to can't keep your hands to yourself. And a bathroom? Seriously? Have some fucking decorum. Lee Heesung. Whore looks really bad on you."

Jay leaned back in his chair, his grin finally showing as he sung, "Someone needs to get laid..."

Niki lightly shoved Jay and spoke up. "We're on the verge of losing the team if we can't find someone to fill that 8th spot. Hyung, we really can't afford any distractions."

Heesung and Jake exchanged a quick look, the weight of the situation finally setting in. Heesung sighed, his usual cheeky grin faltering. "You're right. We can do better. We'll do better."

Jake straightened up, "We get it now... and we'll do what it takes to help fix this."

Sunghoon gave a sharp nod, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface, but the understanding in his teammates' eyes was enough to cool his temper. "Alright, we need to focus. We're a team, and we're gonna get through this. We find that 8th player, or we find a way to make it work with who we've got. No more distractions."

The group nodded in unison, the weight of their captain's words sinking in. For the first time that afternoon, Sunghoon felt like maybe, just maybe, they were ready to face whatever came next.

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ffshinsgirl wtfff just got news m/n got kicked out of fifty-forty for mistreatment of the other teammates!! wtf kinda bullshit is this omg. if this is true, i'll tear my eyes out, i can't look at him the same!!! @munchsshin you bitch!!!!! the mixer is still on tonight, can't go, but if you see that bitch JUMP HIM!!!!!!!! View all comments

1009shinie your a troll this isn't real bye

Luve5040 FIFITY-FORTY IS 8 STOP PLAYING

Enhadreamin Enhypen could never. I've been saying M/n is a cheater. He targets Sunghoon every game. He's a loser, guys, BLOCK HIS ASS.

🏐

Sunghoon shuffled his foot over a rock, his cherry-colored lips pressed into a pout. He'd been standing outside the event house for a few minutes now, mentally bracing himself.

Parties weren't his scene, especially not a Fifty-Forty party. He'd heard about these events: the PTA's presence for the first hour, then their departure to lounge on graham crackers and pizza. Twenty minutes later, the real party began. That's when the booze flowed, drugs made their rounds, and girls were whisked away upstairs by guys who wanted to hump on the gross, deteriorating couches.

Sunghoon wanted nothing to do with any of that, but he'd promised his team he'd do whatever it took to keep them together. So, he swallowed his discomfort and decided to brave it for the Enha team tonight. He kicked his "purity rock" aside and approached the event house doors, where a few people lounged on the banister.

Taking a deep breath-one, two, three-he walked inside. The moment he entered, his senses were overwhelmed. The air was thick with the stench of cologne and the sound of pop music marred by bleeped-out curse words. With every step, someone shouted his name or patted him on the back.

Stay cool, stay cool, he chanted in his head, forcing himself to relax as he responded with nods and brief greetings

Navigating through the crowd, he made his way to the main ballroom, scanning for someone who wouldn't demand more than a quick hello. Then he saw his teammate Jake and Heesung, the team's outside hitter and setter, respectively. They were also the only openly gay couple in the sports department, and they usually didn't shy away from flaunting it.

But tonight they were separated. They seemed talking about something intense because Heesung's hands flung around as he looked like he was trying to explain something to Jake he didn't really understand.

"Can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?" Heesung's tone was off, but he was quick to see Sunghoon and immediately request to be alone, suggesting something was bothering him. Sunghoon nodded, leading him to a quieter corner as he left Jake to drink a lone. As they walked away, he could feel the weight of the Fifty-Forty students' stares on them.

In the secluded corner, Heesung's usual carefree demeanor had vanished, replaced by a deep, concerned frown. His eyes were grave, and the tension in the air was palpable.

"Okay, what's going on?" Sunghoon asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in closer.

"There's something seriously wrong with Shin M/n," Heesung said, his tone heavy with urgency.

Sunghoon's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

"There's a rumor," Heesung explained. "Coach Sian is M/n's father."

"Coach Sian?" Sunghoon asked in disbelief, struggling to process the information.

Heesung nodded. "Yeah. And right now, M/n is puking in the upstairs bathroom but everyone is too chicken shit to help!"

Sunghoon's shock was evident. "I don't understand. It's known M/n doesn't drink, that health detox bullshit. Why... why is he puking and why does the team sound guilty?"

Heesung's expression grew more somber. "They said it was reported Coach Sian spent a lot of money on Fifty-Forty freshman year. Nepo baby crap, I don't know but can you check on him? Jake is too squeamish and those shots are getting to my head."

"Fine."

Now, Sunghoon stood outside the bathroom door, trying to steady his breathing. He pushed it open slowly, the harsh fluorescent light casting a pale glow on the figure slumped near the toilet.

M/n was on his knees, his face pale, sweat clinging to the strands of hair on his forehead as he hunched over, gagging into the porcelain bowl. His ragged breaths filled the room, and Sunghoon could tell this wasn't just from too much alcohol, it was the kind of breakdown that came from something much deeper.

Sunghoon hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the hallway. He didn't like to give someone like M/n the day of light, but he didn't deserve whatever was going on.

"M/n?" Sunghoon finally spoke, crouching down beside him. "Hey, it's Sunghoon. You need some water or something?"

M/n groaned but didn't lift his head. "Don't... don't need help. Go away."

"Yeah, no," Sunghoon replied, his voice firm but calm. He reached for a towel hanging by the sink and ran it under cold water before gently pressing it against M/n's neck. "I'm not leaving you like this."

For a moment, M/n didn't respond, but eventually, his tense shoulders relaxed slightly under Sunghoon's steady presence.

"Why are you even here?" M/n croaked, his voice hoarse.

"Because Heesung and Jake found you like this and thought I'd know what to do," Sunghoon admitted with a small shrug. "And maybe because I'm the captain, and I'm supposed to care about people, even when they're from the other team."

M/n let out a bitter laugh, though it quickly dissolved into a cough. "Captain Sunghoon, the perfect golden boy. You must think I'm pathetic."

Sunghoon frowned, leaning back against the bathroom wall. "I don't think that at all," he said softly. "But I do think you need someone in your corner right now."

M/n finally lifted his head, his tired eyes meeting Sunghoon's in a gaze confused with comfort and terror. Before either of them could say more, the door burst open.

Wonbin stood there, his expression dark as his gaze flicked between M/n and Sunghoon. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he demanded, stepping into the small space.

"Trying to help him," Sunghoon replied, standing up to face him.

Wonbin ignored him, grabbing M/n's arm and yanking him to his feet. "You're coming with me. The team needs to talk to you."

M/n winced but didn't resist, his exhausted body too weak to fight back.

"Wait," Sunghoon said, stepping forward. "He's not in any shape to—"

"This isn't your business," Wonbin snapped, cutting him off. "Stay out of it."

Sunghoon clenched his fists but didn't argue as Wonbin dragged M/n out of the bathroom. He could hear M/n muttering protests, but they quickly faded into the noise of the party.

Gritting his teeth, Sunghoon stormed out of the bathroom and made a beeline for his teammates. Jungwon, Heesung, Jake, and Niki were gathered in a corner, watching him approach with concern.

"What happened?" Heesung asked, his brows furrowing.

"Wonbin took M/n," Sunghoon said, his voice tight with frustration. "Something's going on with their team, and it's bad. We need to do something."

Jungwon's eyes narrowed. "Do you think they'll hurt him?"

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, trying to think. "I don't know, but I'm not risking it. We're going to find him and make sure he's okay."

"This isn't right, we can't sit here and watch. Let's try... plan XO."

Heesung's eyes widened slightly. "Plan XO? Are you sure?"

Sunghoon's resolve hardened. "I may not like him, but I can't sit and watch him be roofied like this."

Sunghoon, Jay, and Heesung reached the bedroom door and exchanged a glance. The muffled sounds of yelling and the occasional thud sent a rush of adrenaline through Sunghoon. He placed a hand on the doorknob, nodding to his teammates.

"Go?" Jay whispered, his lips curling into a small smirk.

Sunghoon nodded. "Go."

With that, Sunghoon shoved the door open. The scene inside was worse than he'd expected. M/n was on his hands and knees, his face flushed and bruised, struggling to shield himself as one of the Fifty-Forty players hurled insults and threats, his fist raised. Anton, the captain of the Fifty-Forty team stood nearby, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

"Stop!" Sunghoon's voice boomed, freezing everyone in the room. All eyes turned toward him.

"Stay out of this, Sunghoon," Anton sneered. "This doesn't concern you."

"It does now," Sunghoon snapped, stepping further inside with Jay and Heesung flanking him. "You've crossed the line."

Wonbin took a step forward, his stance aggressive. "He's one of us. You don't get it, you-"

"He's a person," Sunghoon interrupted, his voice sharp. "And you don't get to treat him like this."

"You're outnumbered," one of the Fifty-Forty players said with a laugh.

' The room was thick with tension as Sunghoon stepped in, Jay and Heesung close behind him. M/n was crumpled against the far wall, his lip split and his breath ragged. Wonbin stood over him, his fists clenched, while three other Fifty-Forty teammates blocked the exit now.

"I told you to back off, Sunghoon," Anton growled. "This doesn't concern you."

Sunghoon's jaw tightened, his eyes darting to M/n. He was barely holding himself up, his gaze glassy. "It concerns me now," Sunghoon said firmly. "Get away from him."

Wonbin sneered and gestured to his teammates. "Take care of them."

The first guy lunged at Sunghoon, but Sunghoon was ready. He shifted his weight to his back foot and pivoted, delivering a front kick to the attacker's chest, sending him stumbling backward into a dresser.

The second guy charged in, throwing a sloppy punch. Sunghoon ducked, his movements fluid, and countered with a spinning hook kick that connected with the side of the guy's head. He crumpled to the floor, groaning.

Jay and Heesung handled the third teammate, keeping him occupied with a mix of grapples and strikes, while Sunghoon turned his attention to Anton.

Anton smirked, cracking his knuckles. "You think you're tough, huh?"

Sunghoon didn't respond. He simply raised his hands.

Anton swung a heavy punch, but Sunghoon sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing Anton's wrist and twisting it. With a swift motion, Sunghoon delivered a side kick to Anton's ribs, making him stagger back.

Enraged, Anton charged again, aiming a wild haymaker. Sunghoon ducked under it, spun, and unleashed a powerful spinning back kick to Anton's stomach. The impact sent him sprawling onto the floor, gasping for air.

Sunghoon stood over him, his breathing steady. "You're done," he said coldly.

He turned to Jay and Heesung, who had subdued the third teammate. "Help me get M/n out of here."

"Let's go," Sunghoon said, guiding him out of the room.

He guided M/n through the crowd, carefully avoiding the gaze of the Fifty-Forty students now fully engaged in the distraction Jake and Sunoo had orchestrated. They weaved through the crowd, and Sunghoon's heart pounded with both fear and determination.

Finally, they reached the back door, which led to a dimly lit alley behind the event house. Sunghoon pushed it open and ushered M/n outside. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the stifling heat of the party inside.

M/n leaned against the wall, swaying slightly. "I don't understand. Why are we outside?"

Sunghoon looked around to ensure they weren't being followed. Satisfied, he turned back to M/n. "You were in danger. I don't know the full details, but it's clear your teammates were planning something tonight."

M/n's eyes softened with gratitude. "Thank you for getting me out. I knew...something was wrong."

Sunghoon took a deep breath, his own anxiety slowly ebbing away. "It's not safe to stay here. We should get you somewhere secure."

M/n nodded, but there was a lingering sadness in his eyes. "I don't know what to say. This is all so overwhelming."

Sunghoon's gaze softened as he stepped closer. He reached out, gently placing his hands on M/n's shoulders. "You don't have to say anything. Just know that you're safe."

For a moment, their eyes locked, and Sunghoon saw a flicker of something in M/n's gaze, a mixture of relief and vulnerability. Without thinking, he leaned in slightly, their faces mere inches apart.

M/n's breath hitched, and Sunghoon could feel the warmth radiating between them. His gaze flickered to M/n's lips, then back to his eyes.

But he stopped himself.

Clearing his throat, Sunghoon stepped back, his cheeks flushing. "Let's... let's get going."

M/n blinked, looking momentarily dazed before nodding. "Yeah. Okay."

🏐

The faint glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across Sunghoon's room. He sat slouched at his desk, his elbows resting on the polished wood, his head cradled in his hands. His phone lay in front of him, M/n's name and number glowing softly on the screen. His thumb hovered over the call button, trembling with hesitation.

His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, replaying the events of the night.

The alley outside the party had been quiet except for the distant hum of traffic. M/n had leaned against the wall, his face pale, his lips slightly parted as he caught his breath. They had been so close. Too close.

Sunghoon had felt the tension crackle between them, his gaze locked onto M/n's. The moment stretched, heavy with unspoken words and emotions. He'd leaned in slightly, just enough to feel M/n's breath against his skin.

For a heartbeat, it seemed like their lips might meet. But Sunghoon had pulled back at the last second, his heart pounding so loudly he thought M/n could hear it.

The memory made his chest ache and his fingers curl into fists. What was wrong with him? Why would he do something like that?

A soft knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts. Before he could answer, the door creaked open, and his dad stepped inside.

"Still awake?" his dad asked, his voice warm but tinged with concern. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Sunghoon straightened in his chair, quickly locking his phone. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

His dad chuckled, stepping further into the room. "About the game? Or something else?"

Sunghoon hesitated, unsure how much he wanted to share. "A little bit of both."

His dad took a seat on the edge of the bed, studying him carefully. "You know, Sunghoon, I've noticed you've been a little... preoccupied lately. You can't find that 8th person can you?"

Sunghoon hesitated again, then sighed. "There's this guy. He might be a good fit, but he's got... a temper and such an awful way of life. He's damn good though, dad."

His dad nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Sounds like he's a fit."

"I don't know about that," Sunghoon muttered. "I just... I feel like I need to do more. I can't settle for him, but he's so perfect."

His dad's lips curved into a small smile as Sunghoon gushed over M/n. "Bring him to my office Monday then."

Sunghoon blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "You think I should invite him to join the team? After everything that's happened?"

His dad shrugged. "Why not? If he's as strong as you say he is, and if he means something to you, it might be the best thing for both of you. Just think about it." With that, his dad stood, patting Sunghoon's shoulder before heading toward the door. "You're a good kid, Sunghoon. Trust your instincts."

The door clicked shut, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts once more. He stared at his phone, M/n's name still glowing on the screen.

caphoon Will you join my team? 

[seraphicloves]

𝒋𝒋𝒌 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒘 𝒂 𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓!

⊱✿⊰ summary: requested by anon; jjk boys reacting to a reader who snort (laughing not drugs) and is insecure abt it

⊱✿⊰ warnings: insecurities, overall very cute!!, romantic undertone possibly(?), should be gender neutral, one suggestive comment in toji's and in choso's

⊱✿⊰ notes: ty to who requested this! i included only the canonically adult characters bc you said "men" but feel free to ask for a pt.2 with other characters you want to see (politely ofc i am sensitive)

Satoru Gojo:

❀ he thinks you are the cutest thing, ever. seeing the way you tilt your head back with laughter, eyes shining with unshed tears. and oh god, that snort? you were so adorable he was sure he was going to explode

❀ gojo definitely teased you about your reaction, although not maliciously of course. he'll give you that signature smirk and say in that cooing voice, "aw, baby! that was so cute, do it again!" and absolutely adore watching you fluster

❀ he would not allow you to be insecure. you are like a literal god, how could you be insecure? especially over something seemingly miniscule. he'll tease you of course, but he makes sure you know he doesn't think its weird. hell, he'd probably make sure to snort around you later, so you feel less alone.

Suguru Geto

❀ laughter is a rare thing for the cult leader, even rarer with such a genuine one. but he doesn't seem to mind seeing your eyes twinkle with amusement and a snort escaping you.

❀ "hm? i didn't think i was that funny." he mused, unable to suppress his slight smirk. he reveled in the way your eyes widened and your face warmed, your embarrassment prevalent.

❀ he could tell you were insecure about the noise you made, which surprised him a bit. what surprised him even more was the fact he cared how you were feeling.

❀ "it's nice to know somebody appreciates my humor." geto said, trying to alleviate your insecurities. he wasn't sure why he cared about you, but he did and he wasn't planning on stopping.

Ryomen Sukuna

❀ he probably wasn't purposely making a joke, so he definitely thinks you're making fun of me. all huffing and puffing, asking, "why are you mocking your king in such insolent ways? answer me, human."

❀ then he figures out you're not mocking him, and feels a slight sense of pride. you thought he was funny? he would be sure to try and say funnier things mors often (though his lame attempts at knock knock jokes are more dorky than anything)

❀ when you apolgize for snorting, he was a bit confused. what were you apolgizing for? so he simply said that, "don't be ridiculous, peasant. it was an adequate reaction." which was his way of saying it was cute.

❀ he refuses to let you be insecure, as long as he's aware of it. for some reason he wants to worship you like a queen, he has the strange urge to make you happy always. so he makes sure you know you weren't weird for snorting. hell he might force his servants to snort around you so you feel more comfortable.

Kento Nanami

❀ he was probably confused by something you said jokingly, taking the statement literally. it was so absurd you couldn't help but laugh a little which turned into a full snort.

❀ nanami will give you a mildly amused look, mixed with a hint of confusion. "did i say something funny?" and you would look away with a guilty smile

❀ he might not admit it, but he loves your laugh and your snort. it felt so pure and untouched by the grim realities of life. he liked how happy it sounded.

❀ he'll secretly overexaggerate his lack of understanding a joke, taking things in a literal sense even if he knows what you mean. he also tries out some dad jokes on you, of which are so bad you can't help but snort

Toji Fushiguro

❀ he was probably insulting someone or saying something so awful you can't help but snort. he'd look over at you with surprise before he gave you a shit eating grin

❀ "hm? what a pretty noise, i wonder what others you could make..." yeah he's a shameless flirt, literally not caring if you know how much he wants you. toji is confident in himself.

❀ he adores your snort, wishing he could always and only be the one to make you feel happy. maybe he'll make more comments that you would find funny, just in hopes to be the one to put that pretty smile on your face

Choso Kamo

❀ he has zero clue what he did to make you snort, he had just been trying to ask a question about some balls? what was so funny about the toy?

❀ he very bluntly asks you, "what did i say that was funny? I wanna hear you make that noise again." He gave you a smile, brown eyes twinkling.

❀ that would practically just erase any insecurities, with how genuine his enjoyment in your little snort was. and anyway now you were more focused in having to explain to choso the misfortune of having a dirty mind.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.