#again not like this family needs the money but

[despondent-beauty]

Watched a great video about how history textbooks make it sound like we've lived in money-driven economies for thousands of years when most cultures and most of human history actually rely on a more ambitious and vibes-based gift-giving economic model. (I'll give you a chicken to feed you today because I know, come winter, you'll provide firewood or a quilt or something to help me survive then.)

In fact, money and adjacent concepts aren't even used unless trading with people you don't know well and may not meet again, like that tribe six valleys over.

Anyway, the argument these textbooks present is basically that money is a fundamental human tool, ledgers and tracking arbitrary values of things, dehumanizing trade to a form of "Well, you sell chickens, but I want a goat, so I won't give you a winter coat," etc. are all fundamentally human, but they're not. Plenty of cultures don't work like this, especially when looking at smaller groups of people. Hell, even smaller groups of people in the US (friends and families) don't do this.

Anyway, this is usually seen as the necessary precursor to capitalism, so the fact that it's not even inherently true to human nature means that no, capitalism is not a natural consequence of human thinking/desires/needs/etc.

[astrolook]

Empty Houses in Your Birth Chart: Cosmic Ghost Town or Chill Zone?

So, you’ve been staring at your birth chart and wondering why you have empty houses. Maybe you have no planets in your 7th house (“Am I doomed to die alone?”), or your 2nd house (“Does this mean I’ll be broke forever?”). Relax. Breathe. The universe didn’t just forget to assign you a personality.

Empty houses don’t mean you lack something; they mean you don’t have a planet permanently renting space there. It���s like a fully furnished Airbnb—functional, livable, just not your primary residence. You still experience these areas of life, just without a permanent cosmic tenant making a mess of things.

Empty 1st House - House of Self, Identity, and ‘Main Character Energy’

"Who am I?"

You don’t need planets in your 1st house to have a personality, I promise. If it’s empty, your Rising Sign ruler/lord is the real MVP here—it’s the planet secretly controlling your life like an undercover boss.

It doesn't mean you’re invisible, boring, or lacking an identity. (Come on, even NPCs have a backstory.)

Unlike people with planets here, you’re not out here having existential crises every five minutes.

Empty 2nd House - House of Money, Self-Worth & That Bag 💰

"Will I ever be rich?"

You’re not destined to survive on instant noodles forever. Your financial success comes from the sign ruling this house—not a chaotic planet constantly meddling with your money habits.

Here, money isn’t the biggest stressor in your life (lucky you). You might not define yourself by wealth, but you can still make serious cash.

Empty 3rd House - House of Communication, Siblings & ‘Did You Read the Fine Print?’

"Why do people talk so much?"

No planets here? You don’t have constant mental chatter or an obsession with posting hot takes on Twitter (unlike certain air sign placements). You process information at your own pace, and your Mercury placement tells us how you communicate.

Here it simply mean that you can be a great speaker or writer—just without the need to debate everything to death.

Empty 4th House - House of Family & Emotional Foundations

"Am I emotionally stable or just unbothered?"

If your 4th house is empty, family drama isn’t your core personality trait (looking at you, Cancer moons). Your upbringing shaped you, but your emotions aren’t constantly under siege.

It means you don’t live in your past. Your sense of home and emotional security comes from the ruling sign, not a chaotic planet making things messy.

Empty 5th House - House of Fun, Romance & ‘Oops, I Did It Again’

"Am I doomed to be boring?"

Empty 5th house? You still have fun, fall in love, and make questionable decisions—it’s just not your full-time job. Your creative hobbies, love life, and risk-taking tendencies come from the house ruler, not a planet throwing drama parties.

It means you’re not obsessively seeking attention. You can still be artistic, romantic, and entertaining—you just do it without the theatrics.

Empty 6th House - House of Work, Health & That Annoying Daily Routine

"Do I even have a work ethic?"

No planets in the 6th house? Congrats, you’re not micromanaging your own existence. You handle responsibilities when necessary, but you’re not out here color-coding to-do lists at 3 AM.

It means you’re chill about work and health. You get things done without needing a constant cosmic drill sergeant yelling at you.

Empty 7th House - House of Relationships & ‘Are We Dating or Just Vibing?’

"Am I cursed in love?"

Nope, an empty 7th house doesn’t mean you’re single forever. It just means you’re not obsessed with relationships—your partnerships unfold naturally instead of being your life’s central drama.

It means you don’t overcomplicate love. You attract relationships when the time is right—without planets causing unnecessary chaos.

Empty 8th House -House of Transformation, Sex & ‘What Happens After We Die?’

"Am I missing the ‘mystical and sexy’ gene?"

The 8th house rules deep transformation, shared finances, intimacy, and, well…death. If you have an empty 8th house, does this mean you’re boring and no sexual life? (Spoiler: No.)

It means you’re not haunted by existential crises 24/7 (lucky you). You go through major transformations, but you’re not obsessing over the meaning of life while waiting for your Starbucks order.

You might have a healthy approach to power and intimacy—unlike people with a crowded 8th house, who experience life like a dramatic phoenix constantly combusting.

Empty 9th House -House of Travel, Higher Learning & ‘I’m Moving to Bali’

"Am I allergic to wisdom and adventure?"

This is the house of philosophy, wanderlust, and that one friend who quit their job to find themselves in another country. But if your 9th house is empty, are you doomed to stay in one place forever?

It means you don’t need a crisis to push you into adventure. You explore life when you want, not because a planet is forcing you into a life-changing backpacking trip.

Your beliefs and perspectives expand over time—you just don’t feel the need to become a monk overnight.

Empty 10th House - House of Career, Public Image & ‘Will I Ever Be Successful?’

"Am I a failure?"

An empty 10th house does not mean you’ll spend your life jobless, unknown, or forever stuck in an unpaid internship from hell. The 10th house rules career and legacy, but an empty one means…you don’t obsess over it 24/7.

You can be highly successful—you just don’t need planets constantly pushing you into an identity crisis about it. Your MC ruler tells the real story of your career path.

Some of the most successful people have an empty 10th house—because they’re too busy succeeding to stress over it.

Empty 11th House - House of Friendships, Social Circles & ‘Am I Cool?’

"Do I have no friends?"

An empty 11th house does not mean you’re a loner or the social equivalent of a tumbleweed. You have friends. You just don’t need a cosmic hype squad of planets managing your social life.

It means you don’t rely on social validation to exist. Your friendships are natural and not built on constant drama and chaos.

You attract the right people without forcing it. You don’t need to collect acquaintances like Pokémon cards—you value quality over quantity.

Empty 12th House - House of the Subconscious, Dreams & ‘Main Character in a Spiritual Awakening’

"Am I just…normal?"

If your 12th house is empty, does this mean you lack spiritual depth, psychic visions, and tragic poet energy? Nope. You’re just not drowning in existential dread 24/7, unlike those with a packed 12th house (send them love, they need it).

You’re not haunted by past-life trauma every time Mercury retrogrades. You connect with your spirituality in a way that’s natural and not overwhelming.

Your spiritual growth is steady and not tied to constant suffering. (Honestly, be grateful.)

🌟 Instead of asking ‘What am I lacking?’ ask ‘Where do I flow naturally?’ 🔍 Look at the ruling planet of each empty house—that’s your real guide. 🔥 Transits activate empty houses, so life will still spice things up when needed!

So, next time someone gasps at your empty 7th house (“Oh no, you’ll never find love!”), just laugh—because joke’s on them, you’re living a drama-free life.

Want to understand what your birth chart really says about you? DM me for a reading, and let’s decode your cosmic blueprint together! 🔮✨

[linoxpudding]

Second Chances - Han Jisung

summary: when your husband fails to show up for your family, you bring up divorce — only then does he wake up

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, married with kids

word count: 1318 words

a/n: remember the twins in jisung's part of this fic? here's a little years later scenario where they have a younger brother now

-

The Kids: Twin Girls (Jisoo, Minsoo - 7 years old) and Son (Jihoon - 5 years old)

~°~

You were exhausted.

Physically, emotionally, mentally—every part of you was stretched thin, fraying at the edges. The weight of everything threatened to crush you, and tonight, it finally broke you.

One of your twin daughters, Minsoo, had her first-ever ballet recital at school today. The one she had spent months practicing for. The one where she had asked, with those wide, hopeful eyes, “Will Appa come this time?”

You had smiled, smoothed down her tutu, kissed her forehead, and whispered, “Of course, baby. He promised.”

But promises didn’t mean much anymore. Not when they came from Han Jisung.

Because when the curtains lifted, and Minsoo stood on stage, her little eyes scanning the audience with anticipation, her smile slowly faltered. Her twirls lost confidence. And when she finally spotted you, sitting alone, her lips wobbled.

And your heart shattered.

Just like it had last month when Jisung missed Jisoo’s science fair. And the time before that, when he forgot about Jihoon’s first-award ceremony at school, where your youngest won an award for being 'most creative' in his class.

How many times were you supposed to make excuses for him? How many times were you supposed to be both parents while he drowned himself in work, in schedules, in music, in everything but the family he promised to cherish?

Not anymore. You reached your breaking point.

Jisung felt it the moment he stepped into the house.

Something was wrong.

The lights were dim, the air heavy. His bag slipped from his shoulder, and he rubbed a hand down his face, exhausted from a long day in the studio.

“Baby, I’m home,” he called out, toeing off his shoes. He glanced at the clock. 12:37 AM.

Late. Again.

The guilt gnawed at his chest, but he pushed it down. He had deadlines, commitments—he was doing all of this for you and the kids, wasn’t he?

Still, when you stepped out of the kitchen, arms crossed, eyes void of warmth, his stomach twisted.

“We need to talk.”

He sighed. “Babe, can it wait? It’s been a long—”

“No.” Your voice was firm. “It can’t.”

Something in your tone made him look up. Really look. And for the first time in a long time, he saw something that terrified him.

You weren’t just mad. You were done.

“Baby—” he started

“Let's go to our bedroom,” you cut him off, “the kids are sleeping, i dont want to wake them up.”

He followed you quietly, and as soon as he shut the bedroom door behind him, you said it.

“I want a divorce.”

The words left your lips like venom. You had imagined saying them before, but you never thought you’d actually do it.

Jisung blinked. Like he didn’t hear you. Like his brain refused to process the words.

“W-What?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I want a divorce, Jisung.”

His bag hit the floor. His breath hitched. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He shook his head, laughing weakly, like this was some cruel joke. “You’re just mad. We fight, we argue, but we always—”

“I’m tired, Jisung.” Your voice cracked. “I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of raising our kids alone. I’m tired of watching them get disappointed over and over again.”

His jaw tightened. “I provide for them—”

“I don’t care about money!” You snapped, voice breaking. “I care about our kids growing up with a father who actually shows up! You keep missing everything, Jisung! Do you even know how much it hurts them? How much does it hurt me?”

Jisung’s breath came out uneven. “I—”

You let out a shaky laugh, eyes stinging. “You know what’s funny? If we get divorced, maybe then they’ll actually get to see you. Because at least then, you’ll be forced to make time.”

Jisung’s lips parted, but no words came out. He looked at you like you had just stabbed him.

Then, suddenly—

Thump.

He dropped to his knees. He felt the world tilted. His ears rang.

Jisung’s knees hit the floor before he even realized what was happening. His hands shot out, grasping at your legs, your hands, anything he could hold on to.

“Please,” his voice was barely a whisper. “Please, don’t do this.”

You flinched, stepping back slightly, but he held onto your legs tightly.

“I know I messed up,” he choked out. “I know I’ve been the worst husband, the worst dad, but please—please don’t leave me.” His fingers curled around your waist, his grip desperate. “I’ll fix this. I’ll be better. Just… don’t give up on me.”

Your face crumpled, and you teared up and gently you pulled away from him.

“Jisung… it’s not that simple.”

“But it is,” he pleaded, voice trembling. “It is to me. I’ll do anything. I’ll quit music—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “You love music, Jisung. I would never take that from you.” Your voice wavered. “I just need you to love us just as much.”

He let out a sob, his chest shaking. “I do.” His voice cracked. “I do, I do, I do. I love you. I love our kids. You’re my whole world, please don’t leave.”

Jisung, the man who once stood on sold-out stages with a mic in hand, now knelt before you, crying.

And it broke him.

The memories hit him all at once.

The way Jisoo had tugged at his sleeve last week, asking if he could just stay home for one day.

The way Jihoon had slowly stopped telling him about his day, because he knew Appa was busy.

The way Minsoo had once whispered to him, “Appa, do you love me?” Even though he reassured her, he knew this question shouldn't even have crossed her little mind in the first place.

His heart clenched so painfully he thought he might die from it.

You exhaled shakily. “Jisung, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

His breath hitched. He looked broken.

His face was crumpled, his hands shaking, his entire body trembling as he knelt before you. And you hated it.

You hated that even after all this, after all the pain and loneliness, you still loved him.

And maybe that was the problem.

You let out a deep breath. “Jisung, I—”

“Then let me prove it,” he whispered. “Give me one last chance. Let me fight for you, for our family.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then, you reluctantly said, “…one last chance.”

Jisung let out a broken sob, he quickly got up and pressed his forehead against yours, then cupped your face before whispering, “I won't let you down ever again.”

He then pulled you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it almost hurt.

But deep down, a part of you wondered.

Would things really change?

Or were you just delaying the inevitable heartbreak?

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

The next few months felt… different. Not perfect, not magically healed overnight, but different.

Jisung started coming home earlier—first by an hour, then two. At first, the kids were hesitant, unsure if this was temporary, but slowly, their walls began to lower. Jihoon started showing him his drawings again. Jisoo asked him to help with her homework. Minsoo hesitated before ballet practice, glancing at him nervously.

“I’ll be there,” Jisung promised.

And this time, he was.

He still made mistakes—forgot to pack Jihoon’s lunch one morning, burned dinner when he tried to help. But instead of brushing it off or making excuses, he tried again. He listened more. He asked questions. He showed up.

And you?

You watched. You waited. You guarded your heart, afraid to believe in him again. But every night, when he reached for your hand—just a small touch, a silent reassurance—you found yourself hesitating less and less.

Maybe love wasn’t enough to fix everything. But effort? Effort could.

And for the first time in a long time, Jisung was finally trying.

[artstennisracket]

Say Ah! ib: Say Ah by Trey Songz please listen while you read :) patrick zweig x art donaldson x fem!reader

cw: nsfw(18+), drunk sex, drug use, dirty talk, squirting, eiffel tower of sorts

girl it’s your birthday open wide i know you’re thirsty say ah

Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson were two very notable names at your very prestigious boarding school. Art’s parents were rich but they were new money. Art’s dad had created a startup tech way before Art was born and it became super successful.

Patrick’s parents though? They were old money. Like Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, Carnegie type old money. No one even knows what his parents do but with amount of money they pay for boarding school tuition, no one really cared.

Art and Patrick were attached at the hip. It made sense though, they were roommates for years. Their families are friends now. They spend breaks and summers on trips to europe or the carribean. Between the Zweig’s chalet in Geneva, the Donaldson’s villa in the Bahamas, the Zweig’s chateau in Nice, and the Donaldson’s beachfront house in St.Kitts, they were spoiled for options.

There were rumors going around that they share girls. You weren’t 100% sure what that meant but you could use your imagination. There were other rumors that they were actually dating each other but you weren’t sure about that either.

Your paths hadn’t crossed much in the almost 6 years you guys have been here. But tonight your best friend insisted you guys go clubbing tonight for your birthday. You liked to party from time to time but you’d try not to go overboard. Emphasis on try. But you were a party girl at heart.

You put on the white shirt and a sequin mini skirt. You finish your makeup and throw on some heels.

“should we pregame?” You ask fiddling with your hair in the mirror.

“nah we won’t need to,” your friend, Liz, says as she finishes zipping up her thigh high boots.

You raise an eyebrow. You know it’s been a minute since you went out but you’re pretty sure pregaming is still the most cost effective way to get drunk.

She continues as she stand up, “we’re going to Patrick and Art’s section tonight at Ikon.”

Oh.

“oh um- i-i didn’t know, i’ve never partied with them before,” you’re unsure why you’re nervous. You’ve been clubbing a million times. And it’s just Patrick and Art, how intimidating could they be.

She shrugs, “i’ve been out with them a few times, they’re super nice. they just always order bottles so there’s no point in pregaming with cheap stuff.”

You nod and follow her out the door.

When you guys get inside the club is already pretty packed. Sweaty bodies and sticky floors. You hold onto you friend hand as she drags you through the club and upstairs. Weaving through the masses.

You’ve never been to Ikon before, you usually frequent Barcelo or Kapital more. But so far you were liking the vibes.

Once you guys get to their section, your friend steps over the velvet rope and you follow suit.

There’s a ridiculous amount of people from school here, mainly girls but a few guys as well. There were a few champagne buckets with ice on the table. In them, so many bottles. Clase Azul, Dom Perignon, Don Julio. Oh wow, Liz was not joking.

She greats them each with a side hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“lizzzzzz, lizzie, you made it i’m so happy you came,” Art says. He’s definitely a little tipsy.

“couldn’t let you host without inviting the life of the party and the birthday girl,” She says gesturing to herself and you.

Patrick smirks. He’s holding a bottle of 1942 in his hand. He takes a swig before he says, “and who is this birthday girl you’ve brought with you?”

You’re nervous again. Why are you nervous? Fuck. They’re just two rich white boys, you need to pull it together. You take a breath and say, “y/n”

Art smiles and claps his hand on Patrick’s shoulder, “have you taken a shot yet? c’mon pat give her a shot. it’s her birthday.”

Patrick is more than happy to oblige. He walks over to you, holding the neck of the bottle, “c’mon birthday girl, say ah.”

A shot is exactly what you need to loosen up. You tilt your head back, opening your mouth. You move your hand to cup right under your mouth as a safeguard for any spillage.

“there you go, uh uh no hands baby,” He says. The butterflies in your stomach going crazy after he says that. But you move your hands nonetheless. He pours some tequila into your mouth. His aim wasn’t perfect so a little does dribble down your neck. He leans down to whisper by your ear, “good girl.”

And just like that he’s gone.

The rest of the night is really fucking blurry. Art and Patrick were giving out shots like water. If you ever had an empty cup it was filled within minutes. If you were dancing so you hadn’t had a drink in a minute, Patrick of Art were there in seconds. They didn’t even have to tell you what to do anymore. You instinctively tilt your head back and open your mouth everytime they approach you with a bottle in their hand. Their excuse being “it’s your birthday, can’t let you go thirsty”

There’s a moment where you walk back to the table in the section that Patrick and Art are sitting at. They’ve got a few lines of coke on the table, Art going first. So Patrick is the first one that spots you and gestures for you to sit next to him.

“enjoying yourself birthday girl?” Patrick smirks. But before you have a chance to answer, Art is passing him the very tightly rolled $100 bill for Patrick to do his lines. So Art steps in to fill the conversation.

“hey having fun?” He smiles a big goofy smile. He’s actually kind of cute. And a decent contrast to more chill Patrick Zweig. But you haven’t really gotten to know them yet so you’ll hold back on the assumptions for now.

You nod slowly, fearful that too much head movement sitting down would make you dizzy, “so much fun, you guys are good hosts so that makes it better.”

Patrick sits back up and wipes his nose. He turns his head to look at you, “where are my manners? did you want?” He asks gesturing to the half empty tiny plastic baggy on the table.

You shake your head no laughing, “i tried it once and I just threw up all over the place so i’ll pass”

He nods in understanding. You notice he has his hand on Art’s thigh as he keeps talking to you, “good birthday so far?”

You nod smiling, “best birthday so far.”

“good i’m glad we could make that happen for you,” He says leaning into your personal space bubble. If you don’t know any better you’d think he’s trying to kiss you, there’s just one more question you want to ask first.

“you and Art seem pretty close,” You say, not creating any distance between the two of you. If anything you lean in closer. You keep eye contact with Patrick. You can see the gears turning in his head as he thinks of how he should answer that.

He smirks, he does that a lot you’ve noticed, “do you wanna see just how close we are?”

You nod biting your lip, but you’re not 100% sure if this is going where you think it’s going.

He sits back up turning his head to Art’s direction. He puts his hand on Art’s chin making Art face him, pulling Art away from whatever side conversation he was having. And he pulls him in for a kiss. It’s slow and sloppy, expected since they’re both kind of drunk at this point. Art kisses Patrick back with no hesitation, so they’ve done this before.

When Patrick pulls away from the kiss he turns back to you while Art goes back to his side conversation. A smirk plastered right back on his face, “does that answer your question?”

“so the rumors are true? you guys are together?”

Patrick laughs. He actually laughs so hard he throws his head back. When he finishes his laughing fit, he turns back to you to say, “fuck no I am not dating blondie, we just like to have fun.”

They just like to have fun. Have fun? So do they share girls? It’s another rumor you heard and it sounds like something someone who likes to have fun would do.

Before you can think on it anymore your body is spewing out the words, “so do you guys share girls?” No reference to the rumor at all, so it almost sounds like you’re asking for yourself.

Now that peaks Patrick’s interest. So maybe it is true? He leans down by your ear again to whisper, “do you want to find out?”

That’s how you end up in their dorm room at 3am.

Initially you didn’t want to leave your friend Liz behind but apparently she had already left with another which she sent you a text about an hour ago. Wow you really don’t check your phone when you’re drunk.

The three of you waste no time taking off your clothes. It’s been a minute since you’ve had sex with one person, let alone two.

You noticed they had pushed both their beds together, very interesting. Patrick and Art start making out on their bed, Patrick is lying down and Art is on top of him.

You’re not sure where you should jump in until Patrick grabs Art’s curls pushing his head down to come face to face with Patrick’s cock. Once Art starts sucking, Patrick gestures for you to straddle him.

You climb on top of him and he pulls you down for a kiss. It’s slow and sensual, like he’s trying to explore your mouth with his tongue.

Art pulls off Patrick’s dick and moves his focus to your pussy. Since it’s right in his face now, he can’t really resist. He lazily continues jerking Patrick off as he licks up the crease of your folds.

He licks up and down, making sure to go down far enough to lick at your clit too. The he comes back up to push his tongue inside of you.

“oh fuck,” You moan into Patrick’s mouth.

Patrick pulls away from the kiss biting your bottom lip, “make sure you’re getting her ready for us.” You assumed he was talking to Art and on cue Art stuck two fingers inside of you, making you gasp.

Patrick moves his hands so one is grabbing your ass while the other is cupping your breast, toying with your nipple.

You being moved into a different position but you can’t tell where Patrick body ends and Art’s body begins. You’re not sure whose hands are where but now you’re on your on your hands and knees with Art in front of your face and Patrick behind you.

You’re looking up at Art as he drags his tip against your lips, smearing his pre cum around.

“fuck, you’re really fucking pretty,” Art breathes out.

At the same time Patrick had already rolled on a condom and was teasing your entrance, “don’t get all sappy on me now donaldson. c’mon y/n say ah”

As soon as you hear the phrase you’ve gotten acquainted to over the course of the night, it’s like muscle memory and your mouth opens.

Art and Patrick pushing into you at the same time from opposite is a euphoric feeling you don’t think you’ll ever forget.

Patrick hands gripping your hips as he fucks into you. Art’s hands tangles in your hair as he thrusts into your mouth. Patrick bruising your cervix, while Art bruises the back of your throat.

There are some differences between the two of them. Art is very whiny. He whines alot as he thrusts in and out of your mouth, mumbling over and over about how good you’re making him feel. While Patrick is more of a groan-er. He groans and moans as he fucks himself in and out of you, saying how well you’re taking his cock and what a good girl you are.

They went back and forth saying stuff like:

“holy fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

“fuck, shit, love seeing your lips wrapped around my cock”

“taking my cock so well,” They both said that in unison at the same time. Kinda freaky. But it added to that pit in your stomach that was building towards your orgasm.

All you could do was moan around Art’s cock that was shoved down your throat. Art’s shoved your face towards his pelvis almost suffocating you and you’re not sure why at first, until you hear kissing?

They’re making out above you. At least you can check eiffel tower of some sorts off of your bucket list.

You can feel both of their thrusts start to stutter, they’re close. They pull away from their kiss and you hear Art say, “fuck baby I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna—.” You feel his release shoot deep down your throat before he pulls out. And you swallow it all down.

When Art cums you feel your orgasm rip through your body but it feels different, “im cumming—“ You moan as your body contracts and there’s a rush of liquid. Patrick pulls out halfway as you squirt all over his dick. “jesus fuck,” He moans.

He was already on the edge but your tight hole squeezing around his cock mixed with the visuals of you squirting on his cock pushed him over the edge, “shit im gonna cum—“ He releases inside you before he pulls out and ties off the condom.

Art had already fallen asleep on his side of the bed but you couldn’t really blame him because he was drunk.

You’re not sure if you should leave and try to sneak back into the girls dorms or if you should stay. Patrick comes back and hands you a rag so you can clean up.

“thanks,” You say with shy smile, unsure why you’re feeling like you’re sobering up a little.

He offers a soft smile, “you know you can stay if you want, i wouldn’t kick you out.”

You gesture to the soiled bedsheets on what you assume is Patrick’s side of the bed, “sorry about the mess, i can help you clean up.”

He lets out a small laugh, “don’t apologize that was fucking hot, you do that often?”

You offer a smirk this time, “wanna find out?”

You both have to carry Art’s passed out body onto the sofa while you guys change the sheets. When Art wakes up the next morning to find new sheets on his bed, Patrick ignores all his questions about it, insisting that “it’s better if y/n just shows you what happened.”

a/n: bonus points if you recognize the club names :)

[archangeldyke-all]

hello sweet girl!! how was your day? 🫶🏽

i hope you know that you’re so deeply loved and appreciated by us all!! <33

how would you feel about writing more highschool sevika and reader!! i absolutely love them! maybe the two of them get roped into babysitting the neighbors kid or something and at first sevika is pissed because she doesn’t wanna spend her friday night changing diapers when she could be making out and causing mischief with her gf hehe!

But as the night goes on, she actually has so much fun and realizes how much she loves kids! And watching reader be so good with kids makes Sevika realize that this is exactly what she wants in the future. To be moms and raise kids with reader together. To have a family together! A sweet and sappy moment when Sevika falls in love even deeper with reader 🥹

oh my god i LOVE THIS AHHHHHHHHH

men and minors dni

"remind me again why we're doing this?" sevika whines.

"because we're broke and we need money for weed." you huff. this is the sixth time she's asked since you started your walk over.

your neighbor caught you and sevika goofing off in the front yard the other day, and she practically begged you for help watching her kids so she could go on a date. when she mentioned what she was willing to pay for just eight hours of work, you elbowed sevika to keep her from saying no, and happily accepted.

which is how you're here. "c'mon, sev, it could be fun."

"i don't see what could possibly be fun about changing diapers our entire saturday night."

"there's only one baby. the other two are three and six. we'll get to play with 'em!"

"play what? i don't think they know how to play poker, babe."

you snort and kiss sevika's cheek. "sevika. their bedtime is eight. their mom won't be home 'til midnight. it's four hours of dealing with the kids, then we can make out on the couch for the rest of the night. she's even leavin' us money for pizza."

sevika huffs and grumbles the rest of the walk. she's quiet as ms. haili leaves you instructions. and she's weirdly standoff-ish with the kids for the first thirty or so minutes.

you're all in the living room, the kids coloring and sevika glaring at them, when a horrible smell fills the room.

"uh-oh baby. looks like you made a poopy." you giggle as you scoop up the baby from it's play pen. "i'll change 'im. be right back."

"don't leave me!" sevika calls. you snort.

"you'll live."

when you come back to the living room, you're shocked to find sevika laying on her belly, coloring along with the two oldest kids.

"what's your favorite color, sevi?" the six year old asks. sevika shrugs.

"purple's cool. what about you?"

"i like purple too! and red. and also green."

"nice."

you lean against the wall and watch the scene, not wanting to embarrass your girlfriend.

"what about you, pipsqueak? what's your favorite color?" sevika asks, nudging the three year old.

"mmm... blue!" the boy declares. sevika nods.

"blue's pretty."

"like the sky!" he says, nodding with excitement. sevika giggles.

"yeah, like the--" she cuts herself off when she catches sight of you, a blush creeping up her cheeks. you grin at her.

throughout the night, sevika grows more and more comfortable with the kids.

during your game of tag, sevika lets the kids cling onto her as she runs around the yard.

during dinner, sevika takes great care of making sure the baby eats all her food, wiping her chin after each messy bite she takes.

at bathtime, sevika lets the kids pile bubbles up on her head, laughing along with them as they make various hairdos and hats for her out of bubbles.

by the time the kids are asleep, sevika's grinning like she's high.

"you want sausage on your half?" you ask as you look down at the pizza menu. sevika's curled up on the couch beside you. she doesn't respond. "sev?" you ask, looking up at her.

sevika blinks at you dreamily. "do you want kids?" she asks.

you choke on your own spit. "what!?" you scream. "we're still in high school!"

sevika giggles. "not now, dumbass. just... someday... would you ever want to have kids with me?" she asks.

you blink at your girlfriend, a small smile on your lips.

you've never really considered kids before --fuck you're still a kid-- but there's one thing that you've known for years now: you're gonna spend the rest of your life with sevika.

"with you, sure." you say. "how many do you want?"

sevika grins and tackles you to the couch. you burst into giggles. "like four? five?" she asks. you snort.

"and who's delivering all these babies!?"

sevika shrugs. "you. or me. or we'll just adopt, y'know?"

something warm inside you flutters, and you blink dreamily up at your best friend. "you're a sap." you whisper. sevika giggles.

"'s your fault. you're cute with a kiddo on your hip."

you pull her down for a kiss, humming against her lips. "we got a long way to go before we have any rugrats, y'know."

"i know. gotta marry you first." sevika says with a smile. you snort.

"i was thinking more like graduating high school and finding a place to live, but sure, you gotta marry me first too." you giggle.

"whatever. i know it'll be a while. but... it's exciting, isn't it?" she whispers. you smile.

"exciting?"

"to have something so nice to look forward to." she explains.

your heart melts and you pull sevika in for one more kiss. "so exciting. so... you gonna join me next weekend to watch mr. tannis' kids?" you ask.

sevika grins. "i guess so."

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

@nanajustnana-a @helaenabugmom

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

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@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

[lazycats-stuff]

Hey, first I just wanna say, big fan of your writing. Second, I just watched Kengan Ashura, and I was wondering about a batfam x male brother reader who is not a vigilante, but is terrifyingly good at fighting. Of course the batfam doesn't know that, but they find out accidentally on patrol one night. Any of the family members accidentally sees Reader going into an abandoned building and wonders why he is out this late. They follow him and find a crowd of people in suits and one of Bruce's managers standing there, and it turns out that Reader is an underground fighter for Wayne Enterprises with an undefeated record and makes billions of dollars because of fighting. They watch him fight out of curiosity and are shocked at his skill and at the fact that he is better than any of them, and that he uses a style none of them know (please make it Niko style with Kure style combined - Reader developed it for himself in secret). After the short fight, where they see Reader being bored because his opponents are weak, the batfam listens to the conversation between Reader and Bruce's manager (Reader's employer for Wayne Enterprises - and underground fighting), they find out that Reader's nickname is Baba Yaga (or The Boogeyman, or Ogre - whichever you prefer) and that he is the reason why Wayne Enterprises has been able to get so much real estate and why the profit has been so high the last 2 years. They run home and wait for the Reader to get back. They confront him together with Alfred and Reader just pretends not to know anything until they attack him to prove he is lying and he just mops the floor with them without getting a single scratch. Cue shocked faces and Damian begging Reader to teach him his style.

You can finish how you want. Sorry if it's long, and thank you for writing.

Okay, I've never heard of Kengan Ashura, since I'm not really a manga person, but since there is no plot related to the actual series I need to abide by, I'm comfortable doing it, I just need to do some research, so no worries. I'll do it.

And yes, I'm alive everyone.

Also, could not find a better GIF, my apologies.

Summary: (Y/N) fights underground. Bruce and the fam find out.

Warnings: mentions of fights, nothing explicit though. Again, no explicit fights. It's said he fights, but no explicit description.

In a house full of vigilantes who are brilliant at investigating and discovering things, hiding secrets of your own is not an easy task. They were all observant, even when not in their suits and when they were not on patrol. It is not easy to shut off the part of the brain that keeps you alive, after all.

But, if you live with those people long enough, you learn enough how to keep your secrets underneath the radar and you learn how to move past those people. (Y/N) has learnt that the hard way, but he learnt it regardless. He had to if he wanted to keep it all a secret. And now, what would that secret might be?

(Y/N) was good at fighting. But not just good.

He was terrifyingly good.

Better than his brothers and better than his father combined.

Why was that a secret? It should be a good thing to be good at fighting, since he is the son of Batman, after all. The problem lied in the fact that he had a style that was never heard of. And he fought underground for Wayne Enterprises. That made him billions and it was on a secret account, one that Bruce didn't know about, otherwise he would blow a gasket.

And besides, the money was just an added bonus. (Y/N) liked fighting, so money wasn't needed. But Jesus, was it a nice touch to keep fighting. He had a scheduled fight anyway. And it was tonight, so he had to make sure to wait that everyone else went on patrol. And that's what he has heard at the moment.

Shuffling around the rooms, chatter about the criminals and soon enough, all of those footsteps and chatter moving to Bruce's study. And then nothing. (Y/N) has waited for an hour longer before he snuck out of the manor, ready to go fight tonight. It's been a while and he needs to get this restless energy out of his system. He got to his car and started driving.

This time he was hoping that the opponents would be somewhat able to withstand him and give him a challenge. But those opponents are rare unfortunately and it made (Y/N) a bit bored. But hopefully, tonight would be fine.

It was a few hours into patrol now and oddly enough, it was all fine. Usual Gotham villains were quiet and just wanted a peaceful night in, it seems. The only crimes they stopped were some muggings, break in and maybe some crimes they had heard over the Gotham Police radio. It was easier to follow rather than to wait for something to wait.

At the moment, they were taking a small break on a random roof top, just resting their feet and talking about stupid things and the most random things they could think of. They were bored beyond belief, but they knew that they couldn't end patrol early because of two words, what if?

What if one of the Gotham villains tries something and they are already back at the Batcave? What if they can't reach the place in time?

There were far too many what ifs for their comfort.

Damian was glancing around, always on alert, when he paused and had to do a double take. He stood up, now sure that (Y/N) entered an abandoned building.

" Why did (Y/N) just enter that old building? " Damian questions and everyone looked at him confused. What is that supposed to mean?

" What do you mean? " Dick inquired, wondering what the hell he was talking about. " (Y/N) can't be here. He's at home. "

" No, he just entered the building. " Damian pointed at the said building, which made Bruce stand up to get a closer look.

" So... We are going to go inside? To check it out? " Tim wondered, clearly not sure on what to do in this situation.

" Well, that depends on how sure Damian is that he saw (Y/N) enter, " Bruce said, glancing at Damian.

" I am absolutely sure father. I would recognize my older brother. " Damian crossed his arms and scoffed. " Now I'm insulted, " He muttered, making Dick chuckle.

" Alright. I say we get in there. " Bruce jumped off the ledge and glided down, landing silently onto the ground in front of the old house. He looked around as he waited for his sons to come down. Once they did, they silently made their way inside. They could hear lot of noise and they moved onto the big beams.

It gave them a nice view of the floor and it wasn't really a shock as to what it was.

A fighting ring.

The only odd thing?

There were men in suits. And Bruce did a double take when he noticed one of his managers. What the hell passed through his mind, wondering why his manager would be here?! What the hell was he doing here?!

But once he saw (Y/N) enter the round circle made by men, shirtless, hands wrapped.

Why the hell is his son even here!? Why is he fighting?!

Bruce was perhaps speechless for the first time in his life.

" What the fuck? " He muttered to himself, wondering what the hell was going on.

He watched as an opponent stepped into the circle, ready to face (Y/N).

Bruce wondered how much would (Y/N) survive, since he wasn't the one who was trained by him. Bruce or anyone else didn't train him, they simply trained him to have at the very least some sort of self defense.

Bruce nearly fell of the beam once he saw (Y/N) fighting. It was... Bruce has never seen anything like this before. He doubted that Ra's even had knowledge of this fighting style. This was... Incredible. Bruce had to be honest, this was just... How and when did he learn this? Who the hell taught him?!

Damian had the exact same train of fought.

Bruce kept observing, making sure to remember as much as possible. But there was something that was noticeable to him. Two different style, clearly something that he tailored to himself. Bruce noticed the tense up muscles, both in defense and offense. Then the sheer agility... Quick movement...

And redirection of the opponent's moves... What the hell was this? And with minimal effort too... Bruce tilted his head as he watched. This was incredible.

And since when is he so flexible? What the fuck was going on in his manor, Bruce thought as he kept watching his boy fight.

Then there was clear clawing at the opponents eyes, going for the neck...

Bruce couldn't believe it.

He had to figure out where he learned this. He needed to know.

But he couldn't do it here. He signaled to the boys to get moving back home. Bruce would deal with it later, but paused when he heard (Y/N) speaking to one of the managers, well, (Y/N)'s manager.

" You couldn't have brought in more skilled opponents? " (Y/N) leaned on the wall, arms crossed and Bruce was sure that he could see that frown on (Y/N)'s face, even though he couldn't see the face of his son.

" It's not my problem that you are leaps and bounds above them. " The executive said, adjusting his tie.

" You need to get me better opponents. "

" Is that the way you speak to your manager? " The man chuckled and Bruce could only sense the eye roll from (Y/N).

" Well, when your Boogeyman is getting a lot of money rolling into Wayne Enterprises, I would like to think that I can speak to you the way I damn please. "

Bruce's eyes widened as he listened in, adjusting his position on the beam.

Big profits that created a spike were 2 years ago and they kept growing... Underground fighting was the reason why there were even more money rolling in? What the fuck?

" Well, I do pay you well from what we earn, don't I? "

" Well, you have to if you want to keep the Boogeyman.. Besides, why did you give me that name? "

" I didn't name you that, everyone else did. And besides, it's a scary nickname that fits you. " The manager said as he stood up straighter.

" Anyway, I'm going home now. I have to make sure that dad doesn't see this, " (Y/N) murmured, making the manager nod.

" If Bruce finds out about this, we are all doomed kid. Have a good night. "

" You too. "

Bruce and everyone else were waiting for (Y/N) back at the manor, making sure to get there before him. They informed Alfred and have decided to confront him once he gets home. They dressed out of their suits and were waiting in the living room, all pretending to do something to seem natural in their behavior. Not like they are trying to confront him.

And oddly enough, the night is young anyway, so they didn't need pretend to be asleep.

(Y/N) came in, saying hi to everyone before going to the kitchen to get a snack. He already showered at the old house, curtesy of his manager.

" Evening (Y/N), how was your night? " Bruce looked up from a magazine, something he just picked up randomly.

" Eh, peaceful. "

Bruce and everyone else glanced at each other. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

" Ah. So we didn't see you in that abandoned house? " Damian started and (Y/N) tensed up for a bit before relaxing.

" No, must have been someone else, " (Y/N) said nonchalantly, keeping his composure.

Everyone slowly migrated to the kitchen, ready to slowly confront (Y/N).

" Are you sure? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) nodded.

" Of course I'm sure. "

And so they all attacked him at the same time.

And (Y/N) reacted, of course.

By wiping the floor with them. Completely and utterly.

Bruce was shocked and Damian was starstruck. Tim, Dick and Tim slowly moved away.

" What the fuck? " Jason muttered.

" Language, " Alfred stated, trying not to show his shock.

" (Y/N), you need to teach me! " Damian now followed (Y/N) around, clearly trying to get into his good graces to teach him. (Y/N) just wanted some peace in this insane household.

" Who taught you all of this? "

(Y/N) simply ducked into his room, avoiding everyone. Not tonight. Nope. Nope. Not gonna happen.

[gnohomotho]

May I play with you? 「✦Pt.1✦」

Pairing: The Recruiter // The Salesman x fem!reader Summary: Responding to my prompts, just a little start to something I hope you'll enjoy. Warnings: General Salesman warnings, though no NSFW yet. Fowl language. Implied very bad things™. Word count: 2.4k A/N: Truly trying this out, if you like it, I'll gladly dive straight into the angst/smut/fluff but I do like to flesh out my stories and characters. (ᵕ—ᴗ—) He is a very novel character for me to write, so I'm trying. ฅ^._.^ฅ Link to next If you like my writing, I appreciate every like // reblog // follow // message // request! <3

Isn’t it funny how one can keep running into the same people?

The subway. Each and every day. You learned to scan your surroundings, wherever you were.

Just a little proclivity you adopted along the way.

Head, face, count, danger, normal.

You avoided sitting down but today, you were tired. Your grants didn’t work out. Your family needed money. You wouldn’t care, you tried not to, but your little sister meant everything to you.

Moving away so far was never something you wanted. And their ways of getting back at you, or even trying to find you (by accident, of course) never let you rest.

Head count. All normal. A few errant people on their way to work. A group of girls obviously on their way to school, laughing together. A group of older men. A well-dressed lady in her late 40s.

Gosh, you were tired. You sat down and ran a hand through your hair which fell past your face with utter indifference. Knees together, straightening your skirt, you notice your shoes are on their last legs.

“Damn it.”

You forgot the head count as the minutes went by.

Damn it!

There go the obsessive-compulsive allegations, you can almost hear them sauntering down on you. No. Your shoes get quite literally outshined by a pair of incredibly posh black spades too close for comfort.

“Excuse me, miss, I’m sorry to bother you.”

Oh no…not this again.

You lift your head and gaze to firmly tell whoever is there to kindly leave you alone. Yet your eyes meet a beaming pair themselves, accompanied by a quietly radiant smile like that of a very glad reptile.

The man was a tad leaned forward, very unassuming, with hair too perfect for the subway – come to think of it, his entire attire and demeanour did not belong here one bit.

You say nothing. Perhaps he was just apologising for sitting so close when there are, as you scanned, enough free benches elsewhere.

“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting all alone while most of the carriages already went by.”

How did you not notice him? How did he know?!

Your alarm bells are swinging off their hinges and you blink, averting his gaze immediately. You still see him smiling that unassuming, almost innocent smile from the corner of your eye – truly reminding you of a snake who has zoned in on a particularly slow mouse.

“I’m…waiting for someone. My…friend. Should be here any minute!” You smile with your eyes firmly closed.

That was stupid.

“Boyfriend. Yes. That.” My 6-foot-5 boyfriend whose hobbies include kickboxing, day-drinking, LARP wrestling and very long swords. Who certainly exists.

“Oh?” His voice is full of curious intrigue now, your plan backfiring spectacularly. You try not to look at the line of his perfectly ironed trousers revealing the very elegant ankles too close to your shoes.

“In that case, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting.” He gets up just as fast, playfully patting his knees as he does – why does this feel so…odd? Like you’re getting played? – “I wouldn’t wish to be rude.” He begins to walk away, and you notice his full height, the briefcase, the persona itself leaving you safe once more. An exhale escapes your lips. Enough slimy businessmen for one day.

“Oh, but miss…” He turns around, that charming, far too kind smile hitting you right between the eyes.

“…when he does show, do tell him how lucky he is to exist.”

❥❥❥

DAMN. IT.

You tried your best to focus that day. You really did. But in the back of your mind. There he was. That tall, weird, creepy, incredibly handsome mother---

“Hey, it’s ok, Y/N. Just a weirdo at a subway station. As if that’s never happened to you before.” You smile into the phone hearing your sister’s voice.

“Did you use the fake boyfriend?” She asks pointedly.

“Yes. And it didn’t really work.” You don’t wish to worry her.

“Ok, next time try the fake Instagram, fake number, and just use one of the people who didn’t like your research! Boom!” You could hear her smiling into the phone and you smiled too, warmth growing in your chest.

“You’re such a darling, you know that? I miss you…”

“I miss you too, big sis, I really do. Mom and dad can’t shut up about you.”

You massage your temples. Of course they can’t. The disappointment of the family needs to be taken into account at least thrice a day.

Her voice grows quieter. “Pretty sure they didn’t send someone this time; I’ve been keeping track.”

She read your mind, and it doesn’t calm you down. But you truly do not wish to worry her.

“It’s ok, lovely, really. Have you got everything you need?”

“Of course!”

The talk winds down into logistics and her school day, you patiently nod and laugh and wish her a sincere goodbye as you check the phone for her to hang up first.

As if by clockwork you notice your shoes are no longer alone. A pair of shining black spades rest beside them, too close for comfort.

You breathe out an exasperated breath which shakes at it last few steps.

“Can I help you?” You look up, summoning the bitchiest of bitch faces and stare into a jovially smiling pair of eyes that have sized you up three times over.

“Oh? What a lovely offer from such a lovely lady.” The words seemed to roll off his tongue as if he had practiced each and every one of them.

Nonchalant yet polite. Polite yet intrusive. Intrusive yet unassuming. Unassuming yet so very…volatile underneath.

Creepy, affluent, and pedantic? Wonderful. Just wonderful. Your sister was right, the weirdos really do tend to zone in on you.

“I thought I would keep you company since your boyfriend doesn’t seem too punctual.” His lips curl into a momentary frown, playing with you.

Even his voice is exaggerated in its faux sympathy.

“Such a rude man, letting you wait all evening. All morning. And all evening once more.” He cranes his neck to one side to be closer to your gaze, arms resting on his slightly outspread knees and hands closed into each other. You feel ice run through your back all the way down your spine.

“Do you have nothing better to do than patronise random women on the subway?”

His eyebrows lift in a combination of admiration and intrigue, hair still perfectly in place underlining those dark eyes staring right through you yet revealing nothing. The man is a walking one-way mirror, you think.

“Oh, definitely.” He looks up, shifts his gaze to the other side, as if mimicking thinking very hard upon his answer, but rests back in your eyes with a small knowing smile playing in the corner of his lips.

“I’m a busy man; I prefer to watch a specific woman on the subway. And would never wish to patronise her.”

You’re too tired for this.

“Oh? Who is she? Is she in the room with us?”

“Oh…” His entertained smile grows, fully lifting to his one cheek as he leans in even closer.

You don’t pull away for fear of letting him know you do feel fear. He leans in so close you can hear him whispering, as if trying not to be heard. He really is weird. And not in a very charming way.

Moreso in a “I wonder where the rest of the body is scattered” kind of way.

“She’s very specific,” he continues, “I hear she waits here in the morning, for a 7:00 carriage, sometimes, she lets that one leave and boards the 7:10 instead. She then, probably, based on a rumour, comes back at 20:00 but doesn’t take the immediate train – it’s been said she can be seen walking until 21:57, marking the very last train. And…”

He lets his head fall even further to the side getting very close to your line of sight, hands still clasped together, smile growing to the entirety of his mouth, “I’m rather sure she’s been seen missing that one a few times, too.”

What. In the ever-loving. Fuck.

“She rarely sits down, so it was quite hard to get all this information – classified sources, I’m sure you understand.” He straightens, but his eyes are piercing you even if you aren’t looking.

“And this particular woman seems very fond of her younger sister, [sister’s name], who loves her very much. So, so, so sweet.”

'Patronising' is a very weak word for the tone and facial expression his slightly closed, smiling eyes conveyed. His words felt like cyanide ice-cream must taste.

“What exactly is your endgame, before I call the police.” Your voice is level, your eyes missing his, your hands…shivering. You feel utterly exposed and the ice on your back has ossified into a glacier.

“I don’t think I have just one specific game in mind, miss Y/N.”

He looks fondly into the crowd boarding the current train.

“I just enjoy her company.”

❥❥❥

It became a bit of a game in the following weeks.

You changed stations, he was there, pretending to be a stranger in the crowd.

A subtle smile above the heads of all other onlookers.

You changed times, it took him a few minutes, but he was there.

Sitting on a bench in that knee-outstretched leisurely yet elegant pose, nonchalant smile finding your eyes.

You changed your favourite coffee spot; he was a few people behind in line.

Catching the corner of your eye and giving a small glimmer of a narrowed look, smile never missing.

In the end, you thought a very silly thought:

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

❥❥❥

Your shoes were once more joined by a pair of perfectly shined spades, resting too close for comfort.

“Would you like to play a game with me, miss Y/N?”

Your eyebrows lift at him, you’ve grown quite accustomed to his presence over the weeks. Though this was a change in routine.

“A game? Why?”

“I think it could be quite…beneficial to the both of us.” He smiles that charming smile and leans in closer. “I missed our little meetings, to be quite honest…the lady seemed to prefer the company of someone else over me in the last few days.”

Were those puppy eyes? An upside-down frown? Maybe your silly thought was sillier than you thought. There was something very dark in those eyes hiding behind the playfully innocent expression.

And you were spending time with your colleague, mostly working, but you cherished the presence of someone you didn’t feel would stab you in the eye the moment you looked at him the wrong way. And yes, he was clingy, and no, you didn’t feel that way about him, but at least he was transparent about it.

“Late nights spent around another man, you can imagine how lonely the station could get as she enjoyed his company.” The end of the sentence seemed to lose its usual jovial tone and made way for something far more genuine – and very worrisome to you.

“Or should I say, as he enjoyed hers?”

Was this man, with his ostentatiously perfect slick black hair, cheerful yet foreboding smile, truly accusing you of what you think he was, after everything he put you through?

“So, I think a game could cheer the atmosphere up a bit,” he purred, back to the ever-sweet persona, “and give us both an opportunity to have some fun.”

You are not particularly amused, but find it warily harmless so far. You shift away a bit, straightening your back, pulling your knees together.

“What happens to the winner?”

“Aaah, a woman after my own heart,” he exhales into a grin, steadying himself, though you can see it’s already all a game to him. It has been all along.

He unnoticeably shifts towards you, closing your newly gained distance and laying a hand between the two of you. Just close enough to not touch you. Too close for comfort.

He then leans into you, so close you can smell his perfectly chosen cologne. You feel his breath on your ear as he whispers:

“The winner gets to the location of a certain young man first.”

❥❥❥

You never really played Ddakji before. And it showed.

“Oh, miss Y/N, you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Please stop enjoying this so much, I’m trying to concentrate.”

As he hands you the envelope once more, he uses the lack of distance between you to brush your hand and lean into you, once more clouding your mind with his cologne and presence far too close for comfort.

“I am enjoying this, but I’m afraid time is growing short for your little acquaintance. And I would delight in playing with you a little more.”

He pulls away from you as if he said nothing at all, smiling still.

Yet his free hand lingers close, taking its time to brush the hair from your shoulders and place it around your neck.

You pull away with the speed of a startled bird.

“Do excuse me, just making sure the view isn’t obstructed,” his lips purse into the tone as if he were doing you a favour; he points his head towards the envelopes, yet ends up looking at you as the sentence concludes:

“I prefer my games fair.”    

❥❥❥

You have no idea how, but you managed the best of three. The man doesn’t look displeased nor too amused, merely smiles and hands you a piece of paper.

Coordinates.

Holding his briefcase in both hands, once more looking more like a suave salesman, he merely leans towards you, eyes firmly holding your gaze. His face is almost plastic in its unbothered expression, but once more, something very dark seems to lurk just below the surface. He speaks as if having your very best interests at heart.

“I suggest you hurry.”

[blissfulbluee]

Helloo! I fucking love your analysis on gi-hun's character and the way you defended him lol (gotta defend our bbg <3) And sorry for asking cuz I really need someone smarter than me. I saw a post that blamed Gi-hun for Jung Bae's death, that all he could have done was give Jung Bae money so that he wouldn't go to the games (also for ghosting Jung Bae). And that he could have helped other poor people, but he chose to go back to the games.

Also, a YouTube video comparing and saying "who had it worse?" shows Gi-hun and In-ho.

And those takes frustrated me that I couldn't form into words TOT. I'm like a child asking for validation lol.

(again, sorry for asking and for horrible grammar/english)

Thank you! I truly appreciate it. You are all so nice to me :). Also, don't insult your intelligence, please! All Gi-hun defenders have the smartest most beautifullest brains ever. Also, your english and grammar is great, don't apologize. I hope you are satisfied with this answer. I've been waiting to talk about this one.

I also saw that post. Let me get this out of the way first: everyone is entitled to their opinion and I am not making this post to shame anyone or create drama. I just want to get my points out there.

Jung-bae's death is not on anyone except for In-ho.

Gi-hun was not the cause of Jung-bae entering the games. He "ghosted" Jung-bae because he had just went through horrible, unimaginable things and could barely make it through everyday life. People with tons of trauma like that tend to isolate themselves for many reasons. For Gi-hun, he is carrying a lot of weight and it's hard to keep up with relationships when you are constantly experiencing emotional pain. He doesn't want to burden people with that, or put them at risk by being the prior winner who is out to stop the games.

Also, how was he supposed to know Jung-bae was desperate enough to join the games or that he was even a target? He didn't know that he had debt like that or was losing his family to divorce. Maybe you can argue that he would have if he kept in contact, but see my above statements.

In addition, it is vital to Gi-hun's character and his plotline that he sees that money as blood money. He only started using it when he was desperate to stop the games. Plus, what would paying off peoples debts do in the long run? It doesn't erase future debts or all debts for that matter. Gi-hun didn't win that much money. Yes, that is still a good and easier thing to do, but that would not stop the games. It makes sense for him to use the money for finding the recruiter instead so that even if someone has a debt (which is pretty much unstoppable) that they won't be placed in fucking death games. Plus, wouldn't you also want to know about the games and how to stop them after all that had happened to you?

I just don't think its fair to blame Jung-bae's death on Gi-hun, at all.

[into-the-milgramverse]

Aight, so, while I'm trying to calm down from certain event

I'm gonna try to write on Muu, specifically relation to what happened regarding Haruka, cause I see left and right people who either jump on to see her as this completely evil irredeemable being or as a totally a good friend who did everything in her power but she just didn't know!!! 🥺🥺 And I feel like both of those takes are... not quite right? Uh, because it's gonna be a long and potentially nonsensical ramble cause I'm not doing well rn, I'll put it all under read more. tw for mentions of Haruka's attempt

Ok, so, first of. Starting of with the "Oh, but she tried to help him!! She brought him food! There's just no way she could have known!!!!"

Yeah, nah, I call that bullshit. If you have functional eyes, capable of sight, you can see a person who starves themselves get thinner. That alone should have told her that he's not eating properly as she supposedly tried to get him to (by... saying it once.) Even if someone who's fat started to starve themselves, which would be less obvious when looking at the body (in fact, you can bet some people would praise them for being ""healthy"" regarding that), the negative impact on health would still show in the face: the cheeks would get sunken in, the, skin would get dry and lips chapped. And, since Haruka is not fat, but tall and lanky as it is, these changes would be especially noticeable on him, along with noticeable body changes. You're telling me that someone like Muu, who's focused on her external beauty (reminder, she wants to be a model) and who literally has Haruka keep his eyes on her, would somehow miss all those signs? Not to mention, she also has a sense of smell, doesn't she? She would have noticed the smell of rotting food that Haruka would hide.

So, she knew very well, and, even if you try to defend her how she somehow didn't think he'd actually kill himself, no, that was very obvious sign that he was actually gonna kill himself. And yet, she didn't do anything. At very least she could have told someone, to ask for help, if she herself struggled with how to help him. But it's clear she did not want to help him.

However, here's a bit more that should be thought about. Muu sees friendships as transactional. She thought Haruka how to write, something he struggled with before, helped him with his style, since he literally arrived in pyjamas, and taught him how to at very least act confident until he internalizes the confidence.

In return, Haruka would provide protection. He'll make sure she stays Innocent so that the harm doesn't come her way like it possibly could happen if she gets voted Guilty. He is also a source of attention for Muu. It's been made clear over and over again that attention and praise is something she looks for and needs. Most prisoners get annoyed with that (Yuno and Fuuta come to mind).

But who doesn't get annoyed? Who else is so starved for attention due to years of being neglected, that simply spending time with them will paint her as an angel directly sent from heavens? Haruka. All she needs to do is to give him a drop of attention to be showered in attention back.

This need for attention and need for protection is not inherently a bad thing. Rich families usually don't do any caring for their children, they have money so they just hire a nanny to take care of them, resulting in lack of attention that's necessary while growing up. On top of that, as I've talked about in my previous Muu post, her school environment was such where she had to stay at the top (at what point she'd be praised), only to be dragged down if she made even the smallest slip-up, and then she'd have to act pitiful to gain attention and climb up to the top. This is all a survival tactic to avoid being bullied, to avoid being hurt. It also leads to a feedback loop of attention and praise = safety. The assumption that Haruka's attempt would sway the audience into voting her Innocent was just added means of securing her safety. And of course she'd support that then. There's no way she could have known that the audience would hit her and Haruka with a Guilty, but after that happened, why would she suddenly stop supporting Haruka?

And speaking of that

Why would Haruka even consider stopping? He was not only encouraged by Muu, for who's sake he was starving himself for, and by Kotoko, who laughed at him and found it amusing, but he also got encouragement from the audience. Not only did Muu got voted Guilty, after he threatened he'll kill himself if she gets voted Guilty, but he himself got voted Guilty too. Reminder that he, like Yuno, could hear the voices while Innocent. He heard voices that praised him, that said they love him. What do you think he heard afterwards? That they don't believe he'd actually do it, or that he'll be restrained if he gets voted Guilty so there's no need to worry. Though he likely didn't get restrained immediately (after all, Muu too would have been restrained, and her arms would be unusable, yet Shidou saw her, and trusted her that she'd bring food. If she had her arms bound at the time, she wouldn't be able to bring food at all), it's a possibility that he definitely thought about, which led to him picking the one method he could do regardless if he gets restrained or not.

By the time Fuuta finally discovered him, it was pretty much already too late. Haruka has gone far enough, and still stuck to his choice. And besides, only one person vs 2 people, one of which is the very person he cares about the most, along with the entirety of both Muu Guilty voters and his own Guilty voters, will not convince him to stop.

TL;DR:

She's literally Just a Girl that has a need for attention, and who's life experiences have shaped her to believe everything in this life is transactional and that other people's lives don't matter if it secures her own safety.

Final thought to end it on: Her actions are horrible and you cannot defend those. She knew and could see very well what was happening. Regardless, I also don't think she herself is inherently a bad person.

Personally, I'd vote her Innocent.

[notmorbid]

the story hour.

dialogue prompts from the story hour: a novel by thrity umrigar.

i'm tired of being so far from family.

i don't trust myself to be alone with you.

do you really hate ____ so much?

i'm gonna tell you something, okay? something i should have told you long ago. but i couldn't.

if it's nothing, why are you shaking like a leaf?

is this what burnout feels like?

you're as trapped as i am.

jokes are funny. this is not funny.

you're not wicked. you're just in pain.

you want my story?

my mother always said where there's a will, there's a way.

i don't do well with routine, i guess.

i'm very happy to have reconnected with you.

how would you like to spend the few hours we have left?

maybe everyone is entitled to one harmless fling.

just because you're _____ doesn't mean everyone else is.

love is not coming for me.

i'm scared to go home.

never refuse a gift of food. it's all the poor have.

it's far easier to blame the world than to look at your own self.

nobody wants to take responsibility for their own behavior anymore.

everyone's looking for a scapegoat.

are you making a pass at me?

it's so peaceful to sit here.

when i look at you, do you know what i see?

god listens until he's fed up with you. then he teaches you a lesson.

business is good, i hope?

this is really blurring the lines, you know.

you are my friend. i'm sorry i denied it.

i'm sorry. i just reacted.

is it me, or is it hot in here?

what do you need me to do?

you can't give up now. look how far you've already come.

are you trying to pick a fight with me?

that's it? no explanation?

would you join me for a cup of tea?

you're safe now. nobody will hurt you again.

why are you doing this? what are you getting out of it?

everybody has a hungry heart.

i've loved every moment i've spent with you.

i have to tell you a secret. something bad.

whatever it is, you'll feel better after you tell me.

why are you not saying anything?

i'm tin. you are gold.

you have more money than sense.

i'm old enough to be your ____.

why didn't you just leave?

you cannot run from your kismet.

why now, after all this time?

grace is neither cheap nor free. it has to be earned.

we can't be responsible for other people's reactions to us.

you're sick. i'll make you soup.

i need to see you before i leave.

damn, you're cold.

that's all it takes: a moment's forgetfulness.

if you're not happy, what chance is there for me?

you're so many things to me, but never ordinary.

we are earthbound creatures, no matter how tempting the sky.

can i sit with you for a few minutes?

you've never looked more beautiful?

family has to take you back. that's the whole point of family.

after all these years? just like that?

if i ask you something, will you answer honestly?

you look as far away as the moon.

what do you want from me?

[thesummerstorms]

Arsinoë de Riva is a spell blade and a Crow assassin, so she uses a variety of different mage knives and regular daggers before and throughout Veilguard. She's more of a "the right tool for the right job" person than someone who has historically gotten sentimentally attached to her kit.

The exception comes when Lucanis commissions a crystalline mageknife made of everite specifically for her (as a courting gift, not that either of them ever come out and say that). It gleams like carved amethyst and it resonates well with her storm magic and it's a mark of regard from Lucanis and all of a sudden she does have favorites.

The mageknife is broken during the fight on Tearstone Island when Rook is taken into the Fade. Lucanis despairs over this. (He can't bring himself to believe she's coming back.)

Neve (who they are both also dating) ends up being the one to take the pieces Lucanis retrieved and ask Viago to have a House de Riva weaponsmith repair it. It's a deliberate decision on Neve's part to embrace the possibility of hope, even when she isn't sure she believes it.

The weapon isn't ready in time for Minrathous (given how chaotic things are while Elgar'nan is literally blotting out the sun) but after Rook's return, Neve takes the initiative to have a tiny aquamarine with an intaglio carving of a snake (taken from a protective charm being sold to Tevinter sailors) set into the metal part of the knife that connects the blade to the hilt.

It once again becomes Arsinoë's main/favorite weapon, though she will trade it out depending on the needs of the job.

Arsinoë also does end up wearing the blade openly as part of her wedding outfit for their (unofficial?) ceremony, whatever that looks like.

Bonus Round:

Outside of that mage knife, her most monetarily valuable possessions are her collection of enchanted rings and amulets for wearing on contracts/in combat + her other knives. Once she became a full Crow, she didn't skimp on equipment, much less once Viago ascended and brought calculated attention from other Crows.

Her most personally valuable possessions include:

a scratched silver cloakpin brooch shaped like an embrium flower that was given to her as a child by Viago, an heirloom piece from the silversmiths in his maternal family that marked her as having his patronage/interest and to a lesser extent his protection.

a house de Riva ring that Viago took from a Crow he killed who supported the previous Fifth Talon and gave to her to mark his favor/her associated authority in the House. Pre-Veilguard she wears it on the finger traditionally associated with wedding bands if not on a job.*

a cheap silver thumb ring shaped like a snake that was her first purchase with her own money

Varric's silver shaving mirror

An extremely cheap copper "protective" amulet/charm on a bit of faded ribbon which was given to her by a sympathetic peddler when the Templars were actively transporting her to the Circle. It lives in her jewel case and never really sees the light of day, but it's the only possession she has that predates her time in the Crows, much less her time in the Circle.

*yes, this causes rumors. No she didn't mean it like that.

Good magical Monday (I hope you are on vacation)!

Rook talk? Rook talk.

Your Rook’s primary weapon. Where’d they get it? Did they make it? Was it a gift? What is it? Is it significant to them? How do they take care of it?

Bonus Round: What is your Rook’s most valuable possession?

[victorluvsalice]

-->While Smiler was bopping away, Victor had finished his upgrading, so I had him transportalate down to the greenhouse, change into more appropriate clothes, and start tending all the plants (a process made a little bit harder today by his bees being angry about life and stinging him occasionally). Alice, meanwhile, was stopped from going out to shower in the rain (Erratic Sims…) and forced to finish her breakfast and take a quick wolf nap to calm her instincts before I sent her out to feed Toothy the cowplant and the poor starving chickens. Fortunately going out in the thunderstorm didn’t make her scared (one of the few perks of a Sim being Erratic) – though it did break her umbrella, so that wasn’t great. Despite this, though, she got everybody fed, cleaned out the coop, and got all five eggs waiting in said coop without incident. Feeling both proud of her for staying on task and bad that I'd made her work in the rain, I then directed her to head inside and up to her and Victor’s bedroom, before having her change into her outfit with the Delicate “bad mood calming” bracelet and start working on her latest book again (the mystery “Who Stole The Tarts?” in case you need a reminder – I did!). She plugged away at that for a bit while I checked in on Victor – he’d finished all his tending, so I decided to have him super-sell his garden –

After he’d bonded with his bees to stop them being so angry. And after he’d evolved his taro root. And after he’d gathered soy wax off his soy plant. And after he’d gotten a pee – which involved him magically fixing the downstairs toilet because at some point it broke (I think the moment he tried to sit down on it, in fact). And after he’d given Surprise a lecture on scratching the furniture. I’m saying it took a WHILE to get to super-selling all that produce. XD But he did get there eventually, poor guy!

-->And then I looked at Alice again and noticed her Fury was getting really high because, despite her bracelet’s best efforts, her “gotta be outside” werewolf instincts were giving her lip. I quickly sent her out into the backyard (fortunately the rain had calmed down to a drizzle at this point, AND her umbrella was back in good repair) and had her somber howl to lower her Fury – then, deciding I wanted to be extra safe on a party day, sent her back up to the séance room to meditate the rest of it away. Smiler, meanwhile, was finally allowed to stop dancing for the camera (I’d left them like that for a while because, uh, it was just easier ^^;) and upload the video to their production station so they could start editing it and adding effects and transitions and all that jazz. Victor, for his part, finished his super-selling at last – I immediately made him Repairio the wind farm (those things break SOOO MUCH) and smash up a twisted tendril growing outside Moory’s pen before having him harvest the prairie grass in said pen. XD No rest for the wicked – or the magical! Though he got a pretty good harvest out of the prairie grass – not only did he bundle up plenty of hay, he also found a bottle of potato nectar – and a bottle of VITALITY nectar. AKA the nectar that can deage Sims and bring ghosts back to life. O.o So yeah, that right there? That is the GOOD stuff. Have to remember to get him to store it in the aging racks later!

-->Anyway – while Victor was getting that done, Smiler uploaded and hyped their finished video (just in time for it to be included in the royalty money for the day, nice), then ran downstairs to lecture Shock for scratching furniture and drinking from puddles. I couldn’t get a good picture of either as Shock kept running away from Smiler to do something else as they tried to lecture her (like going to drink from puddle in the bathroom while Smiler was trying to tell her no scratching the living room chairs), but the lessons DID take, and Shock has learned not to do either thing anymore. Hooray! I then had Smiler mop up all the puddles around the place and take a quick shower as I checked in on Alice – to my delight, she was completely Fury-less! Yay! :D And even better, I quickly discovered an activity to keep her busy while I tried to wrangle Smiler and Victor (Smiler, finished with their shower, was trying to mold the clay blob in the bathroom from last episode while Victor wanted to chat with them) – the laundry! The hamper was starting to look a biiit full, so I had her search everyone’s pockets, then load up the washer with the clothes and a chrysanthemum and set them tumbling. Victor and Smiler had headed back up to Smiler’s room to dance to the tunes coming out of their radio at this point, so I just had Alice head up and join them for a little dance party –

[superbat-lmao]

Jason blames the mistake on the fact that it was his first time being back in the cave after coming onto the scene as Red Hood. He was needed as part of a larger operation, but being back in the sterile and kleptomaniacal space had made him slip up. Old behavior patterns that fit like too tight gloves.

He’d said it as a joke, of all things.

His relationship with the bats was tepid at best and he’d rebuked every attempt they’d made for him to participate in their little “family” charade. His only concession had been for work related business. But his head wasn’t on right, it seemed, because he slipped back into the old tone he used when he would banter with Batman.

Bruce had asked him to stay for dinner, which he’d declined. Dick had asked him if he wanted to join in on movie night, which he’d ignored. Alfred had told him in no uncertain terms would someone within his household go without at least refreshment, so he’d accepted the tea. Tim and Damian had already turned in for the night, not eager to be a part of the hissed threats followed by sullen silences that functioned as their method of conversation.

Jason had been reading through some of the files for the upcoming operation while Dick was doing his best to keep up a stream of chatter. It didn’t alleviate the frosty tone of the cave, but it did remind Jason of the few times Dick had tried to play “happy family” before he’d scamper back off to Bludhaven. It was a blast from the past, this level of unease between them. If it weren’t for the spectre of glass and bloody fabric in Jason’s periphery he’d think he’d somehow been sent back in time.

At some point in the incessant noise, Dick had said something about an upcoming gala and was trying to strategize with Bruce about how to convince Damian to attend. And by “strategize with Bruce” Jason meant “prattle on aimlessly at a brick wall like a mental patient.”

Bruce told Dick that he would employ the same method he’d used on all his kids, bribery.

Then Bruce had turned to Jason and asked if he would consider attending dinner tomorrow night instead, if he was already busy.

“It’ll cost you.”

Jason’s tone should’ve been cold, aloof. But in actuality, it was a lot closer to his old humor, the sarcasm and wit that belied a Robin.

Dick had stopped talking. Bruce was quickly recovering, schooling his blank expression into something painful to look at.

“How much?”

Jason’s eyes, which had flicked back down to the file, stopped on the word associates. He glanced back up and yep. Bruce’s face was a mixture of hope and determination. His eyes glinted in the harsh fluorescents.

“What?”

“How much will it cost to have you stay for dinner tomorrow?”

Jason scoffed.

“You can’t afford me.”

“Try me.”

Dick was flicking his eyes between them like a tennis match.

Jason paused.

In actuality, crime lording paid well, but the funds weren’t all usable for the same things. For civilian things. Jason could do with some clean, unlaundered cash. Not that he wanted to admit it.

He let the silence stretch until it was uncomfortable. He didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.

“How long?”

“You stay from 6pm to 8:30pm.”

“My going rate is a hundred dollars a minute.”

“Done.”

Bruce wasn’t smiling, and Dick huffed out something that sounded faintly jealous but hey. Jason would be a fool to pass up $15,000.

[dumbfucksystem]

do you guys think anyone remembers to put flowers on airplane’s grave…

[thewistlingbadger]

Hi! Thanks for your response. I really liked the way you phrased your comments on point #1 because it did sort of shift the way I think, or at bare minimum it made me see your perspective. Mel was upfront with Jayce and Viktor in regards to hextech. It was obvious that she wanted to help back them in exchange for some sort of benefit of her own. To me Mel is very intriguing because she kinda has two different complexes going on at the same time. On one hand, she wants to be independent from her mother and family name and on the other she wants o live up the the expectations set forth for Medardas. Backing Hextech accomplishes both. Hextech is a very unique technology that would and DID put Piltover on the map, which advances Mel's goal of being seen separately from Noxus. Being a big supporter of Hextech also gave Mel more money and probably more influence and power than she had before, which advances her goal of being like the rest of her kin.

I agree that Mel's relationship to Hextech and its founders was not predatory. I think Mel was intrigued by the possibilities that kind of technology could have for her own goals and so she wanted to see it through, but not enough to actually openly support it. At Jayce's trial, she is clearly interested in his results but when he reveals he has none she begins to criticize him like all the other councilors do. Later when she sees Jayce again, she's willing to help cover for them but she's not willing to risk her own ass and stand up for them in a proper council meeting. Not that I blame her tho, She's a politician, of course she's mainly only ever looking out for her own self intertest.

The term "using" people is honestly so vast that I feel like it can be stretched into a lot of things. Like with proper argumentation and evidence you could probably argue that any character used another character. Mel gave jayce and viktor access to what they needed not out of the "goodness of her heart" or because she genuinely believed in the tech's helpfulness, but because she saw that it could be money maker and it could be revolutionary. So I suppose in that way she "used" them for her own personal gain but like...it was kinda obvious and expected? So should she be faulted for that? Idk. I guess when I examine it, saying that Mel specifically used Jayce and Viktor in regards to hextech is like saying Cassandra Kiramman used Jayce. Like...sure? It's not incorrect per say but it's just a weak argument. That's what I mean when I say it isn't malicious bc it's very obvious and everyone should have expected that going in.

However, I do 100% believe that Mel used Jayce specifically in regards of politics. I feel like it's extremely obvious in canon that Mel had been building up Jayce to get him a council seat so that she would have basically a built in political ally but this post isn't really about that.

As for point number two, I genuinely don't see a difference. The council was unaware of Silco's activity not because of their ignorance, but because on paper Silco genuinely did look like only an industrialist and Marcus had fabricated material to support the lie. Marcus never got caught because he always covered his tracks. The council is fully aware that the enforcers are abusive of their power when it comes to zaunites because they're the ones who ordered the enforcers to "turn the undercity inside out" back in act 1 s1, when grayson was in charge and not marcus. The council is the one who authorizes the increased enforcer presence in act 3 s1 and they see the consequence in real time. They're also most likely the ones responsible for dispatching so many enforcers on the day of ash, a day where tons of zaunites were slain by enforcers.

I know you're not arguing for the council but me personally I will never give them any shred of grace.

As for Mel specifically, yeah she is being passive and ignorant and these are not excuses but also? If Mel was genuinely aware of the state of living in Zaun, would that have genuinely made her see the error of her and the council's ways? Or would she have just turned a blind eye and kept looking away? Mel didn't always live in Piltover. While she may be oblivious to what goes on in Zaun, she is not oblivious to the ramifications of being poor or a minority class in a dominating society. Mel was a little girl when she saw her mother, a leader of a dominating society, slay a girl merely for being part of a minority class. Mel is well educated not only from books but also her own lived experiences. I feel like she knows what the rich do the poor, how the majority class almost always oppresses the minority class, and so these patterns would have been obvious to recognize in the conflict between Piltover and Zaun.

Mel thoughts

Do I acknowledge and accept the fact that Mel Medarda did bad things, did hurt people, did use people, did manipulate people, yes I do. But. Also. Mel canonically was a teenager when her mother had her shipped off to Piltover. She was a teenager, probably around Vi's age, in a foreign land with strangers, completely cut off from her family. It can be really hard to analyze and discuss characters probably when we aren't given much explicit information...but the fact is Mel had no idea that HER OWN BROTHER had died until Ambessa came to Piltover... Let that sink in.

The fact of the matter is that Mel actually has a lot of childhood trauma and it comes from not only the horrors her mother forced her to witness and the harshness of Noxus, but it also comes from having been abandoned and forced to live somewhere that was completely unfamiliar to Mel. It goes undiscussed because the show barely acknowledges it because narratively Mel is only a side character, she isn't given the time or dedication as a character like Jinx or Vi despite the fact that she's a member of the main cast.

Mel does tons of things that are shitty and wrong and her actions are the results of the tools her mother gave her. The tools Ambessa gave Mel were incredibly damaging, not only to others but also to Mel. Sure, Mel is a very successful adult socially, financially, and career wise but on a personal level? On a personal level we see that Mel is fake to practically everyone she interacts with. She clearly liked Jayce for a long time and yet it took her forever to be real with him and even when she started to be honest and open with him she was still not being completely transparent. Outside of Jayce Mel really doesn't interact with anyone in a meaningful or positive way other than Elora. Elora is always at Mel's right hand and we know Mel cares about her greatly since she was devastated when she died. However, it should be noted that Elora is Mel's assistant, she works for Mel, so even though they have a close relationship the foundation of their relationship isn't one of friendship or mutual enjoyment of the other. This is similar to the foundation of Mel's relationship with Jayce. Their relationship isn't founded on mutual attraction or appreciation for each other. Mel's relationship with Jayce starts back in the beginning of arcane, because Mel thinks Jayce can be profitable and a useful asset to her. Based on Mel's reactions to Jayce it seems that Jayce is probably her first ever real connection with someone in a long time, perhaps even ever.

Ambessa raised Mel to be harsh and brutal and so in some ways, Mel still abides by the lessons she was taught as a child. She has no problem using the poor to advance her own wealth. She has no problem with turning her colleagues against one another just for the sake of her own personal gain. She's not completely off the rails and unhinged, she has standards and lines she won't cross but don't let the lines she refuses to cross distract you from the lines she already has crossed. I have empathy for Mel for the hardships she has faced and for her complicated family. It is sad that she was never taught how to navigate the world and others in a healthy, appropriate way. However, Mel is not a child anymore. She's an adult, and while she may have not had the skill set to form healthy bonds with people, she had the opportunity to learn how to be a better person. Mel didn't need to use the tactics she was raised on, but she chose to.

Something that I find interesting about Mel is her lack of... accountability? Awareness? The correct word escapes me right now. Mel witnesses a lot of events and in some cases she is actually responsible for the way things have transpired but she never seems to acknowledge that. For example, Mel is partially responsible for the decay of the underground and the suffering of Zaunites as a councilor, but she never acknowledges this, even when it comes to bite her in the ass. When her and Jayce see all the dead enforcers on the bridge, she is mostly concerned about the threat of future violence and retaliation, she isn't all that concerned with what's actually in front of her (this is kinda valid considering she grew up seeing a lot of death and she was probably just in shock at the bridge). Mel is shocked when Jayce accuses her of using him and Viktor in season two, even when she literally did. She even admits to it, but in the way she admits to it she doesn't take accountability. It's not a "yes you're right and that was fucked up" it's a "well of course you guys were investments hello??"

Honestly I think a lot of Mel's issues as a person stem from her childhood and how she was raised, but as an adult Mel hasn't made much of an effort to combat what she was taught and become a better person. And again please note that Mel doesn't need to be a good person. She's allowed to be flawed and complete and human. I'm not saying anything of this as an accusation, I'm saying it as observations I have noted about her character.

[buttercupshands]

rewatched Kurogiri's holiday story from ultra impact (not related to sketch at all)

(but it did inspire me)

on another note

finally!!