#as the one show that has been the first and last in a long while to not disappoint me it's somewhat hard to let it go yk

[syngularitysyn]

It's all fun and memes to joke about how Caitlyn immediately switched sides the moment she hears Vi call her cupcake again. And I do it too. But to me, the switch wasn't abrupt at all.

From the first scene in episode four, Caitlyn already says that the martial law has been going on much longer than she wanted. In the next scene, you see her standing up to Ambessa, using her words back at her, for which Ambessa calls her fearless. It shows that Caitlin has not given up control and is not being puppeteered by Ambessa. She's in control still, but her singular focus is still on Jinx like it was in act one.

Vi was right that Caitlyn is behaving like Jinx, but it was probably the worst thing Vi could have said to her, no matter how true, cause Caitlyn was too deep in her quest for 'justice' in her grief. That's why she reacted so violently.

Jinx is the target of her obsession, or her in her mind for justice, even though what she really wants is vengeance, and being compared to Jinx cut deep. Vi had noticed the similarity before in season one, but that was before Jinx kidnapped Caitlyn and wanted her dead.

In the beginning of episode four, she feels that it's been going on too long, but even after all those months her obsession is still stronger. Her obsession with getting vengeance, finding Jinx, killing Jinx, is still stronger than her moral compass, which she has abandoned to avenge her mother and fill her mother's shoes.

But over the course of the second act before she sees Vi again, there are multiple things that happen that make Caitlyn understand she has to stop, that what she's doing isn't right or justifiable.

Some of these were not initially clear to me when I first watched it. but one thing I realized today while I was working out is that one crucial moment for Caitlyn's arc in act two is with Singed.

Taking her singular focus off Jinx for a moment, Caitlyn does what she does best and figures out who Singed is, and what he's responsible for. She uncovers that Singed is actually the formerly revered alchemist Dr. Corin Reveck, who used to work with Heimerdinger at the academy. Arcane implies he is from Piltover and became a Zaunite after being kicked out of Piltover. He helped build up Piltover to what it is, and now he is ravaging Zaun with shimmer, weapons and monsters.

When she calls him a monster and asks him "why do all this?", he tells her he did it 'for love'. Out of love for his deceased daughter.

And I think that that is one of the crucial moments where Caitlyn starts to realize that what she is doing is not very different from him.

She's doing things her old self would never have approved, of out of love and grief for her deceased mother.

When she sees Vi again, she doesn't suddenly switch sides, she's already been doubting her chosen course of action. She initially says "you can't be here", because Caitlyn is trying to believe she's doing the right thing still, and knows Vi is a threat to that belief/lie.

Vi calling her cupcake though, is one of the last drops in the bucket. She left Vi to do what she thought she needed to do, what her mother might have done. What she's doing out of guilt for not saving her mother when she had the chance. She even tried to be with a girl her mother would have approved of.

When Vi calls her cupcake, all the feelings she's been trying to stuff away come flooding back. She snaps out of this self-imposed love-deprived state she's been in, and she can no longer deny she loves Vi.

When Vi tells her that she's trying to save her dad, I think that is the moment she actually switches sides. That was the last drop. That is the moment where she realizes there are still people she loves, who love her, who are still alive and they need her help, and that is more important than her horrible campaign for vengeance out of grief, otherwise she's no different than Singed.

[caseuoiseau]

In my youth, I was involved with several theater groups, which is an extremely Know A Guy hobby (and, it seems, profession), and there were several circumstances that made me believe I understood the power of Knowing A Guy: The season it turned out half of our new members in our college group were art majors and our sets looked incredible. The seasonal list of clothes and props for cast & crew to see if they own and will let us borrow. The season that same group let me direct a show with a fencing scene and I legitimately Knew A Guy (the brother of one of my high school best friends) who fenced competitively and did SCA and was in all sorts of ways itching to have the opportunity to choreograph a fight scene.

But I was a child. I was a fool. I didn't know shit about the power of Knowing A Guy. Not until I went to watch my mom's tennis team one Friday night.

One of my mom's teammates (I don't remember her name, let's call her Chris) showed up around a half hour in to the match just to watch. Mom had given me a heads-up that Chris might also shiw up, and told me she hadn't been in the lineup for a while, so everyone was hoping to see her. Naturally, being the more socially awkward half of this conversation, and thrilled to have something to say, I mentioned this to Chris, who offered that she hadn't been able to play because her husband had been in the hospital. Now, me being me, I didn't pry any further than that--we barely know each other, and I'm sure she just wanted to eat some wings and cheer for her team. But you'd better believe I blocked anyone else from taking up my Mom's time when she came off the court. Because my mother will always assume that if I know something, I will blurt it out in a conversation at the least opportune time (whoch...okay, fair, but it's closer to 60/40) so if Mom hadn't told me that Chris's husband had been in the hospital, it's because she--improbably--didn't know. She made an immediate beeline to Chris, and about two minutes in to talking to my mom, Chris was near tears.

Her husband had been riding his motorcycle back home from a couple states over and made it as far as a neighboring state when pickup truck knocked him clear off his bike on the highway. He had been recuperating in a hospital 4 hours away, he'd broken an absurd amount of bones and fucked up an absurd amount of organs, and the hospital was out of market and the bills were piling up and she needed to figure out some way to get him to a hospital closer to home and she was considering taking the back rows out of the mini van, putting down a mattress, and driving VERY CAREFULLY and although his employer was being very reasonable now, who knew how long that would last.

Now, a few important things to know about my mother: she has two graduate degrees and several certifications relating to business, public administration, and/or human resources, and had been working in HR for about 20 years. And at the time of this story, she'd been captaining tennis teams at her local club for a good six years. So she:

was incredibly accustomed to talking to people who are trying to hold their shit together when their personal life is in absolute shambles,

had an extensive network of professional acquaintances,

often used that network to help fill in her teams, and

knew about 85% of the people on any given opposing team.

So that Shortcut? That Guy Who Knows Other Guys? That's my mom.

So the first person she called over was one of her teammates. A nursing professor at a nearby university and former managing nurse at the world-class hospital up the street. Then another teammate, an ER nurse at a well-known Boston hospital, overheard the conversation and joined in. Then Mom waved over the female half of the line three mixed doubles, who worked for Harvard-Pilgrim and had some ridiculous number of decades working on the business side of health insurance. And then she gently herded this group to the club bar where we ordered about eight appetizers while this impromptu team spent the next hour of their lives creating a plan forward for this woman. These are his rights as an employee, this is the paperwork you need to fill out with his office. By the way, you know that you have your own rights with your own employer, yeah? Here's what you need to fill out there to protect your own job whole you're managing this. Please wait until he's less broken to schlep him 4 hours, unmoored, on a mattress in your minivan. This is what you need to do with the insurance to get them to cover this even tho its out of state, here's how you request it, here's my number in case that doesn't work. No kidding: an hour of this, and she left at 11pm full of wings she didn't buy, a bullet-ppinted list, and the phone numbers of four people she could talk to if anything came up. I've never seen anything like it since.

So, yeah. Network professionally and personally. Find out what your professional contacts do for fun (because the State Central League might need a couple of substitute players to cover holidays) and what your hobby friends do professionally. Generally? Just let people talk about themselves. It comes in very handy.

Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide

This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.

How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:

The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours

It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people

Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.

Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.

Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)

The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.

It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*

If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people

So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.

Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit

Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen

Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **

General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.

Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something

Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill

* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them

** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone

Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 4

In which you escape to paradise with the love of your life.

Warnings: nothing unless you hate happiness. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - Master List

Phulay Bay, Thailand July, 2025

yourpersonalinsta posted

456,938 likes liked by taylorswift, redbullracing, alexandrasaintmleux, and others. yourpersonalinsta out of office tagged: maxverstappen1 kikagomes omg where are yoooou? >>>yourpersonalinsta thailand! he planned literally everything. all i had to do was show up. user928 max is never beating best boyfie on the grid allegations now redbullracing bring us back a coconut! >>>yourpersonalinsta hahahaha think max can smuggle one out in his backpack??? >>>redbullracing if he tries hard enough, he can do anything!

"Max, where'd you go?" You call, voice echoing out over the empty terrace of the beach villa Max had booked for you two during F1's summer break.

Last year, the two of you had spent a few weeks on a boat off of the Amalfi coast with some of your friends but this year, it was just the two of you. This entire trip had been a complete surprise, Max having planned the entire thing. You had gotten a text one afternoon just a few days into the month long F1 break from Max telling you to pack a bag (heavy on the bikinis and lingerie, as personally requested by your boyfriend) and to be ready to leave the apartment in Monaco in an hour.

You had bustled about, a mix of excitement and anxiety twisting in your chest. To be quite honest, you had been looking forward to having some down time at home, just the two of you. It had only been a few months since you had permanently moved from New York to Monaco and you were far from settled, having spent most of the first half of the year traveling with Max.

The moment Max burst into your shared apartment though, all of your anxieties evaporated into thin air. He had never looked more relaxed than he had that morning, telling you he was taking you on a trip and to not ask any questions. You, of course, dutifully obeyed.

Which was how you found yourself at one of the most private and romantic beach resorts in Thailand, currently looking for your seemingly missing boyfriend. You'd been here for a few days now, soaking in the sand and sun and quiet peacefulness the resort had to offer. Mornings were spent slowly in bed, breakfast often skipped in favor of time spent underneath (or on top of) Max. Afternoons scuttled by slowly, spent under the sun on the beach in your bikini being oogled by Max. And nights were spent together, either in the media room of the villa watching movies or under the stars talking about anything and everything with the man that had completely stolen your heart.

It was in those quiet moments, while you sat snuggled up between Max's legs, back pressed firmly into his chest, on the beach where you were in awe of how much your life had changed in a little over a year. How quickly Max had swooped into you life, into your heart, and never left.

The villa is quiet and empty, you assume that Max has wandered down onto the beach or out near the private pool while you had taken a quick shower before your dinner reservations. Something on the bed catches your eye though and you cross the wooden planked floor to read the note that sits on top of a white linen dress.

My love, I know we had reservations at the resort's resturant tonight but I took the liberty of moving that to some place a little quieter. Put on the dress and meet me out on that little bluff where we always watch the sunset, dinner is waiting. all of the love my soul possesses, Max

Tears prick at your eyes when you finish the note. Laying on the bed is a white linen dress that you had no idea was even in the villa. It's brand new, you'd never even seen it before. The moment you pull it on over your head, you can't help but be impressed. It fits like a dream and when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but smile. The dress is cut perfectly to your figure, the neckline scooping down low to show off an extra bit of clevege and the hem hitting just below your knee. You're not quite sure how Max did it, but the dress fits you like a glove.

Your hair is still a bit damp, but you're eager to find where Max is and what he's up to tonight so you opt for a long braid down your back.

When you step out on the back veranda of the villa, the sun is hanging low in the sky, just above the sparkling blue water that stretches out in front of you. The resort sits on a little bluff overlooking the ocean, romantically tucked into the side of rolling green hills and a lush forest behind you.

Just beyond the edge of the villa's back yard is a little outcropping of land that juts over the beach below. Every night since you had arrived, Max had insisted on making a point to sit on this little private bluff and watch the sun go down. No matter what you were doing or what you had planned that evening, watching the sunset tucked deeply in Max's arms, became a tradition you wanted to continue forever.

The cool grass tickles your bare feet as you cross the lush green lawn. For a moment, you don't even look towards where you know Max is standing because you're so distracted by the crash of the ocean waves and glimmer of the sunset on the water. When you do look over though, you stop in your tracks, pupils blowing wide at the scene before you.

There, right on your little plot of paradise, stands your boyfriend. He's surrounded by what looks like hundreds and hundreds of white hydrangeas arranged in a large circle. Clusters of candles dot the edge of the circle casting a soft glow over the entire scene.

Max stands in the middle of all of this, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He's wearing the navy linen shirt you bought him for his birthday last year, top few buttons undone at his throat. The breeze off the water tugs a bit at his hair, long from a busy season with little time to stop and get a haircut. The fact that you liked his hair longer also had a lot to do with him refusing to cut it lately, but he'd never admit that to anyone but you.

When Max sees you walk out of the villa for the firs time, he thinks he might just pass out right there. The dress Kika and Alexandra had helped him pick out was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen you wear, besides that navy and red lacy lingerie set you had worn for his birthday last year, of course. He had been planning this for months now, much to Daniel and Lando's surprise. His two friends were the only other people who knew what this entire trip was really about. They had expressed their surprise at the plans since you hadn't even celebrated your one year anniversary when he had set all of this in motion. Max had simply replied with 'when you know you know' and no one had questioned it again.

The red and gold ring box sits heavy in his pocket, his fingers tracing anxious patterns over it's smooth surface. He wasn't nervous about what he was going to do. No, what he was about to do was the most confident and self assured decisions he had ever made. What he was nervous about was you saying no. He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to take a rejection.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach Max. Unsure but confident about what's about to happen all at the same time. The conflicting emotions whirl around in your stomach in a hurricane of anxiety and shock.

"Hi baby." Max murmurs as soon as you step into the circle with him. His arms reach for you and to his great relief, you melt into him eagerly.

"Hi." Your voice nothing but breathy whisper. A smile that could power most of Europe shimmers across your face. "What's all this?"

"I know I said we were going to eat dinner out here, but I wanted to talk to you first." Max buries his head in your hair, inhaling the sweet and spicy scent of your shampoo, still lingering in your hair after your shower.

He takes a few moments and you are simply content to enjoy the feeling that settles over you. Outside of this little bluff, nothing else exists and you could stay here for the rest of your life and be completely content.

When Max pulls himself together, he pulls back a little so he can see you without craning his neck. "The moment you smiled at me the first time, my entire world shifted beneath my feet." His voice is rough, Dutch accent becoming more prominent the more emotional he gets. "The first time I kissed you in my drivers room in Miami, I knew I was done. I have never met a kinder, more ambitious, or more confident woman than you. Just being able to exist in your orbit has been the blessing I never knew I needed. I know it hasn't been long but I can't figure out how I ever managed to exist before you and I never want to find out what it feels like to exist after you."

Max pauses then, drawing in a shaky breath. Blood rushes past your ears as your knees threaten to buckle. You had hoped this day would come for you and Max but you had never expected it to be so quickly. Like Max, you had known pretty fast that he was it for you. You had tried to fight the growing feeling that your relationship could work its way into marriage but as you continued to settle further into life with him, you fought the feeling less and less.

He sinks to his knee then and looks up at you, those ice blue eyes that you dream about shining up at you. "I want to see you walk down the aisle towards me in a white dress. I want to see your belly grow when you carry our babies. I want to hear my children call you their mama and I want your babies to call me daddy. I want all of this and an entire lifetime of love with you and only you. Will you give me that, baby? Will you marry me?"

For a moment you're completely unable to breathe. The words Max said to you etched themselves onto your bones, words you'd never forget until your dying day. They were words that were to be written down. Words that your grandchildren would cry over one day when they stumbled upon your old journals in the attic.

Those kinds of things, those words, deserved to live in the universe alone for a bit, they're so powerful. You gave them space and respect, allowing what Max had said to you wash over your body.

"Oh my God. Of course. Yes. Please." You babble, really unable to make your mouth move in the way you want it. All you know is that you had never been so certain about anything in your entire existence.

Max slips the massive rock onto your finger before standing up to his full height. The diamond that winks up at you in dim candlelight is something that could be compared to the iceberg that sunk the titanic. Once the ring is secured on your hand, tonight's second perfect fit, Max catches your chin in his fingers to tip your head up towards him. When he kisses you, lips meeting yours so achingly tender, the entire world goes quiet. Everyone who could have possibly existed simply vanishes.

You stay like that for several moments, caught up in your boyfri- no, not boyfriend, fiance's arms and simply kiss him with every ounce of love you can wring out of your soul. His tongue licks into your mouth, eliciting a kitten like mewl of pleasure from the back of your throat. It's a sweet and tender kiss, soft and celebratory after what's just occurred.

"I love you." You say against his lips when you need a moment to breathe.

"I love you too. More than life, lifeje." Max's hand comes up to frame the side of your face, rubbing his thumb across your swollen bottom lip.

All you can do is stare up at him, pupils blown wide open. "How long have you been planning this? I can't believe you did all this...for me? Just for me?" For someone who has often gone unseen in their own family, being doted on like Max does is sometimes confusing.

"Months. I've had help. Danny and Lando helped decide where and how to do this." You can't help but chuckle at the thought of Daniel and Lando, two of Max's most unserious and unmarried friends, helping him plan a proposal.

"Alexandra and Kika too. They helped with the dress."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Those two bitches knew and didn't tell me!"

Max tilts his head back and laughs heartily. The sound sends a zing down your spine. "No, although I suspect they might have figured it out. I just told them I was taking you on a surprise date and needed help with an outfit."

"And of course I did all of this for you." Max continues, face turning serious. "I did this all for you because I wanted you to know how important you are to me. How much I need you in my life. You're my everything, baby."

Emotion clogs your throat as you fight to keep the tears from falling. "I can't wait to be your wife, Maxie."

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,293,938 likes liked by kikagomes, yourdad, danielricciardo, and others. yourpersonalinsta girlfriend < fiancé 💍 kikagomes ahhhhhhh congratulations pretty girl!!! you are going to make the most beautiful bride. WAIT OMG, is this why Max had Alex and I help buy that dress????? >>>yourpersonalinsta yes 🤭 love you kiks >>>user928 i'm sorry but am i reading this right? max had alex and kika help buy the dress that he had her wear to her own engagement. idk if i'll ever recover from this. user02938 MOM AND DAD ARE GETTING MARRIED landonorris glad he finally did it so i can stop hearing about how excited he is. >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too, lando >>>landonorris ❤️ maxverstappen1 can't wait to start calling you mrs. verstappen >>>user0283 i cannot be normal about this >>>user0029 i have no one to send this too redbullracing our favorite couple together forever!!! congrats you two (liked by author and maxverstappen1)

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 21/11✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hi! Would Macaque kidnap Wukong again? I read your comic, the last page, where Macaque is the kidnapping expert. And I'm very curious about it. Anyway, I love your comics! You are awesome.

Haha I don't think they really need it unless they want to do a "traditional wedding courtnapping" but it would be pretty odd since they kind of already live togehter.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I know this is definitely a LONG ways away, but, imagine: Wukong and Macaque playing the newlyweds game. What questions? What answers? Who’s asking the questions? Who’s getting the most right?

I wont list all the lesson but I think Macaque would get most of them right just because Wukong never really changed a lot during the years, while Macaque went through different stages of his life, and and he has new hobbies and tastes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will mk have a nightmare about LBD? If yes Then we will have some angst with fluffy monkeys family moments!!!

Oh he has. He has many. Most of them he has while he is at pigsy's.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can you please shows up a flashback backstory on how MK/Wukong discovered/found out/came out as trans?? 🙏🙏🙏 Banana sundae with chocolate sauce, rainbow sprinkles, THREE cherries, and a super-deluxe one-and-only Monkie King™️ collectible spoon???

Anonimo ha chiesto: will we see any past Shadowpeach?? I’m interested to see how you frame their dynamic back 5en.

Hahah maybe in the future, I'll see

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we get Wukong telling dad jokes? Please, I’m begging i want to see MK laughing and Macaque just being so disappointed with Wukong yet so smitten. I want to see more Monkey family domestic blissss. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I don't have my dad jokes book here but man give Macaque an award for the patience he has with these two children

@goofybearclown ha chiesto: Hi :3 Just wanted to say I love your shadowpeach and cotl AU!!! I didn't notice you made both at first but when I did I was like "waow :0". Tbh your works are in my top 3 series on Tumblr! @fenikzia ha chiesto: I love your LMK comic so much, I look forward to reading the new additions to it when they come out every other day,and reading your comic just makes my day better. Even if it hasn't updated a particular day, I make sure to go back and reread the newest part.Keep doing what you're doing and make sure to take breaks! @skye-minecraftyt-blog ha chiesto: You! I like you! Your Bio parents Lmk au always makes me extremely happy and I regularly reread it. ((o(^∇^)o)) Just wanted to say it @blazeandsilver ha chiesto: Hello, I just wanted to say your artwork is absolutely stunning, it makes my day whenever I see that you posted something new to the BioParents comic. Please keep up the good work and be sure to take some time for yourself, you’re important too.

AWWWWWW THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hihi shadowpeach au question: You mentioned in the latest comic that Mac is more lean and skinny than Wukong. Will we ever see the full extent of that?? ALSO I ADORE YOUR ART OMG ❤️❤️

A fully naked Macaque you say? Maybe.... who knows....

Anonimo ha chiesto: I come to defend Wukong acting like a man looking at a victorian lady ankles, he hasn’t seen his (ex) husband’s fur in centuries. And he probably hasn’t socialize in years either besides MK and the gang. Romantically he is stunned right? I doubt he has even looked at anyone besides Macaque anyways…

Honestly I like to think that Macaque was the only being in all the universe that was eer able to make him flustered

@mochalikesdrawing ha chiesto: So I got a question, will we ever get to see kaiju MK again?

I have a scene post AU I would like to draw. Maybe.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ignoring all the angst because it is crushing my soul /pos, I'm lowkey convinced that Macaque knows Wukong feels some kind of way about him because he can hear his heartbeat go crazy at certain moments and isn't dumb, but just isn't calling Wukong on it because he's still trying to sort his own feelings first. BUT ONCE HE DOES OH BOY-

Hahah Macaque knows perfectly well Wukong is down for him. In the meantime Wukong is alwasy afraid he's just imagining things bc he's dense af.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you think Wukong and macaque would be cuddling and macaque would be watching something scary and Wukong would be trying to not pay attention to it because he hates scary stuff or would it be the other way around?

yess

@ep2nd ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach bio parents au, if MK and Wukong were created by Nuwa, with Nuwa using Macaque and Wukong as a base, has anyone wondered who created Macaque? And does Macaque himself knows?

Wait Nuwa created Wukong? If that's so I think then all the 5 monkeys were made by her, for some reason.

@boonalina ha chiesto: Sooo what exactly is the courtnapping process like? Is it just a simple "I'm gonna pick you up and carry you away" or is it an entire ceremony? Does someone have to lure the person into place? For example, Mei bringing Redson over to a secluded spot so that Mk can "courtnap" him? (Side note: I've been in this fandom for around two years now, and this comic is what made me find out about courtnapping lol)

I "think" anything that can be counted as like a sneak attack that takes them out of guard and brings them to the designated courtnapped room can be considered as courtnapping technically.

Anonimo ha chiesto: ... Hey so your shadow peach bio parent AU is better way better than season five. WOAH, WHO SAID THAT!! (no but seriously it is like a sitcom I tune on ever so often. Much love 🫶)

Haha thank you! That's a HUGE statement!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I wonder if MK has any unique attributes/abilities as a living mass of celestial material?

He's such a cocktail ofdifferent energies I wouldn't be surprised he is able to glow in the dark.

@cjtuy ha chiesto: I do have a question it's mainly about pigsy and tang when and how long have they been together as a couple and did both of them find mk are they married ?

They have been together for almost a year, but I don't think they are married, but maybe that could happen in the future??? But yeah MK found out a little after season 5 that they are together, that was also the same time he started calling Tang "Papa"

Anonimo ha chiesto: Has macaque added any personal items to the house? Like is he moved in? Have Wukong and macaque improved or changed anything else besides making the bed bigger?

Yes he did! Half of his belongins are in FFM, althought he's a little more minimalistic than Wukong. He also have been bothering Wukong to death so that he can finally organize his stuff (and they were roomates

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like if they were to play Minecraft or something macaque would be the base mom. He would be the only one to remember to farm food to not starve. The others would probably forget all the time that hunger is a thing in game. Wukong or Mk: oh dang does anyone have food I'm starving Macaque: (always brings extra for this reason) "sighs" yes

AH!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Remember the Minor Scale episode, from season 2? Where MK learn how to shrink himself? And there’s also the final episode of that season where MK just grow very big to try to fight LBD. I just love that part of his power and I have seen very little people showing it. Like, sometimes that power can show up when the poor boy is experiencing overwhelming emotions that can’t be contained anymore, or pure exhaustion. For example, Having many responsibility can lead to a lot of stress and exhaustion and at some point MK just can’t do more and just become tiny, not able to do more. On the opposite, maybe he experience trauma again through a nightmare (like about azure for example) and the emotional burden is to much and he just becomes big because of that. You see my vision? I love sizeshifting base on emotions :)

Aww and i love emotion-based powers, they are just so easy to play around.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Tbh the show should let macaque have a motorcycle. Wukong gets to be passenger princess

Yesss

Anonimo ha chiesto: as we get into the colder months i like to imagine MK’s first winter coat and he’s all super fluffy and warm

Cool for the monkey parents, bad for pigsy and all the hair in the restaurant from sheeding.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think it would be so funny if MKs rock hadn't been cracked and he'd been raised on FFM by wukong. If the same thing happens in the show macaque planning to take mks powers thinking he's just Wukongs student but then while macaque and MK are training. Since macaque is so close he notices his ears. (Being raised by a monkey he gets his form sooner) suddenly putting everything on hold busting into FFM and is like WUKONG WTF

There's a fic on AO3 about it it's A Son of Two Dads

@cheese-hommo ha chiesto: Hii, fiesta I want to say I love how you draw and everything, it just looks so cool and beautiful. Now, with the last chapter of Monkey parents Au and so, with the acknowledgement of the demon etiquette and else, DBK and Wukong really misunderstand the comfort scene for a confession? Or something more? It was just so funny seeing the two of them getting so embarrassed at the end 🙂‍↕️

Ah, 2 young demons in their true forms so close to each other, blushing? Scandalous.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I've seen Mk is his Lego merch- he gots a tooth gap- so does this MK have one or did he get it filled?

Wait that was a tooth gap??? I though it was like, a detail of the smile

Anonimo ha chiesto: 🎤 what is your official (if any) opinion on Ink MK? (as a character, plot device, literary parallel, what have you)

It's ok. I personally believe "shadow" version of one character with their own fears and doubts is a clique a little bit too much used. But they give a lot of angst.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Thoughts on Macaque knowing either Japanese or Korean due to him liking anime.

I'll give you one better. Macaque always traveled to Japan pretty frequently during the centuries. Then became a weeb

Anonimo ha chiesto: Maybe it's just me but Wukong looks a bit thicker each time, is it because his fur's thickening or is he getting chubbier ??????? Anyway luv ur art

Both.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | New Glasses

 John finds you reclining on the couch. Bowl of popcorn chips resting on your stomach and mask, cool and slimy, on your face.

“So, we not going on a date tonight?”

The casual way he drops the statement belies the gravity of it.

The moment it takes to process through your exhausted brain is the only moment of peace for the rest of the night.

Jumping to your feet the chips go flying as your mask slides off your face and into the now empty bowl.

“It’s Monday!” You shout as you stare at him in horror. “Fuck, I will be ready in ten minutes.”

Before you can sink to your knees to clean up your mess John takes you by the hand and deposits you at your room. With a smiling kiss to your cheek he promises to clean up the mess and turn off the TV.

You wipe your face with a makeup wipe and panic spin before shouting down the hall.

“John! What should I wear?”

“Closed toed shoes and layers dove,” he shouted back.

“Layers and clothes toed shoes,” you mutter to yourself on repeat as you start digging around for a clean pair of jeans and a set of matching socks.

“Oh, and no makeup if you feel comfortable. It will melt off.”

His loud voice and words make you pause.

“What the hell are we doing that would cause my make up to melt off?” You ask the empty room.

Eleven minutes later you are knotting the laces of your shoes and pushing off the couch to follow John to his car. It’s practical, how like him. He catches sight of your small smirk at his vehicle.

“What? Not as fancy as Johnny’s?”

Busting out laughing you drop a hand onto his shoulder for support. Johnny had the oldest, ugliest truck you had ever seen.

He smiles down at you, cheeks pulling up to cause crinkles around his eyes. You loved when he smiled that big, with his whole face. It made your heart so happy.

John walked you to the passanger door, opening it for you with a bow and a wink.

“My lady.”

You give a curtsey with your imaginary skirt before rolling your eyes and climbing in and buckling your seat belt.

“So, John, what is the silliest situation you have ever ended up in because of your job?”

“Let me think,” he focuses on driving as he does. “Had to be the time I told the president of US a crass joke.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” You gape at him from the opposite seat.

“Was playing bodyguard at a conference, there was only one man in the room while we were waiting for the VIP and I made a joke to break the tension.”

“What did he do?” You prompt, there has to be more to this conversation.

“He looked at me odd before busting out in laughter. I didn’t realize my mistake until the meeting started and he got introduced to the room. We made eye contact and I have never felt my face go that red before,” John offers you a hand to hold between the seats.

You take it, enjoying the roughness of his palms and the width of his fingers between yours.

“What about you?” John asks.

“What about me what?”

“Tell me the silliest interaction you have had working as a barista.”

“Whew, that might take all night. Top of mind though, was the guy who showed up at the wrong coffee shop for a first date.”

“How long did it take him to figure it out?”

“An hour,” you emphasize the last word. “He thought he had been stood up.”

John laughed at the man’s misfortune. The drive went on like that, trading stories back and forth until John pulled up outside of a pretty nondescript building with a large overhead door that cars typically went through. No cars would fit through this one though, the opening showed tables and decorative glass pieces.

“You know I didn’t ask before but what are we doing on this date?” You ask as you stare at the beautiful and intricate works of blown glass.

“We are making some blown glass pieces. You can do an ornament for Christmas or a cup,” John steps from the car with a finger up to ask for your patience.

Appreciating the way he moves you watch him round the car. Smiling up at him as he opens the door you take the offered hand, sliding the fingers of your left hand into his. Entering the spacious building you look around at the orbs hanging artfully along one wall.

“Hi guys, welcome in. Do you have an appointment?” A young woman with blonde beach waves greats you, eyes jumping straight to John.

You can’t blame her, he is an attractive man, despite the funny facial hair decisions he makes sometimes.

“We do, the couples hour under the last name Price?”

You almost didn’t catch it but he tilted your hand to so she couldn’t see your lack of ring. Smiling up at him he winks at you when he glances from the receptionist. Two small taps to your nose confirm your understanding.

“Okay, are you wanting to do an ornament or a cup?” The blonde asks in a slightly more subdued tone.

“Cup for me, love?”

John turns to you.

“Cup for me as well please.”

“Okay, you can pick up to two colors and whether or not you want a band on your cup. Al will be with you shortly.”

You pull John to look over your options. The date doesn’t leave a lot of room for talking, but warm glances while standing at the furnace, slowly working with Al to keep the slug of molten glass spinning. Whoever decided on when to have newbies help with this process understood the lack of skill the average John would have.

Glad you avoided putting on make-up on John’s recommendation, you wipe at the back of your neck where sweat has started to collect. Once the cups were settled into the annealing oven, you did find stepping from the studio a startling refreshing experience.

“I had fun John. Thank you,” you infuse as much warmth and honesty into your words as you can manage.

He pulls your interlocked hands to his lips, dropping a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Bonus is that I get to take you out again when they are ready for pickup,” he lifts both brows at you from under his hat.

“All that means is I get to spend more time with you. What a hardship,” you roll your eyes as your sarcasm lands.

John scoops you close with a spin.

“Come on brat, let’s get you some food. I know you didn’t eat enough today.” He nuzzles his beard into the space between your shoulder and chin.

You squeal and pull away, “Hey, I resemble that remark!”

He smiles again, wide and full at you.

“Get in the car love.”

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[copperhawks]

You're not the first person to make this comparison on this post, but when I wrote this, I hadn't done a re-read of SOTL yet (and the last time I'd read In the Hand of the Goddess was... a LONG time ago, so I couldn't really make a good comparison between these two scenes), but I have now and I've been sort-of thinking this over and have some thoughts on it.

For me, this isn't so much an indication of them being similar so much as it is just an unusually similar narrative beat. A character chooses to disobey an order about not crossing a border during a war in order to go save someone who has been captured and, in so doing, takes out a major antagonist that leads to the end of the war.

But the MOTIVES behind the two actions seem very different to me. Jon goes to save Alanna because he's in love with her and can't bear to lose her. Kel goes to save the refugees because she's responsible for them and takes that extremely seriously. She does CARE about the people, obviously, it's still being done out of love, but she's not doing it because she can't stand to live without them so much as that she's INSANELY duty-driven. She goes up to save Lalasa for similar reasons after being told that a noble's duty to their servants is basically sacrosanct. Kel goes across the border because she believes it's the honorable thing to do. Jon's motives aren't about honor and are, arguably, somewhat more selfish in origin.

So while this is obviously a very similar storyline, I don't find that it's an example of these two characters being similar to each other.

Kel is willing to give up EVERYTHING out of a sense of duty to the people she's responsible for. While Jon is someone who does a LOT of things for his people and spends a lot of his time and energy making life better for them, I can't recall a moment where Jon is ready to give up everything he wants and everything he's worked for just to save his people. Jon actually tells Kel in Squire that he and Thayet work pretty hard to keep themselves OUT of that kind of danger whenever possible, that's the point behind all of the compromises. All of the arranged marriages for his kids are to try to ensure peace through political connections and stop fighting in wars.

This is where they DO differ because Kel feels like someone who, at least at this point in her life, is willing to die to protect her people. But Jon is someone who will do whatever it takes to LIVE for his people for as long as possible. Jon understands that, in his position, it's more beneficial for everybody for him to make compromises in order to stay alive so he can keep making changes that will make people's lives better in the long run. This is a lesson that, while we do see Kel LEARNING it a little during Lady Knight, isn't one that really plays into the final conflict of the book. It's possible that Kel will end up being even more like Jon in this way as she gets older, more willing to stay back herself and trust others to do what needs to be done in her place, but by the end of Lady Knight, that just isn't who she is yet.

And maybe that's what's interesting about the comparison. Kel isn't all that much like Jon YET, and she's certainly not all that much like Jon when HE was 19, but Kel shows signs of being a lot more like Jon as he is during HER series as she gets older and gains more experience. Kel is very righteous, very inclined to just act and get things done, but over the 9 years we get to know her, she has to learn more and more about when to act and when to WAIT. She has to learn when to push and when to bend a little.

As a woman, she's going to be held to different standards than her male counterparts like Raoul or Wyldon, she'll be dealing with different limitations and setbacks than they ever did. And so her approach to leadership will, by necessity, have to be different than theirs was. She does look to them for inspiration, but in execution, I think she'll likely end up far more like Jon. Jon is obviously not a woman himself, but as King he's ALSO held to different higher standards than his compatriots and he was very young when he took the throne and has been very progressive throughout his reign which means he's dealing with certain limitations and setbacks that more conservative people might not.

Kel has strong opinions and firm ideas of what the world SHOULD be like, and that's going to lead her down a similar path of trying to CHANGE things, but she'll be dealing with all of the same limitations that Jon is, which will force her to approach things the way he does. She's going to have to compromise, she's going to have to bend, she's going to have to learn when a fight is worth having, she's going to have to learn to give a little in order to get a little later.

Kel would probably not have crossed the border for just one person. If it had been Neal, for example, and Neal alone, she may not have decided to take that risk. Neal is a trained knight like herself and probably won't thank her for giving up everything to come save him. Kel could probably have been convinced not to cross the border for him, as much as it would've pained her. And Jon I think would not necessarily give up everything to save a few hundred people the way Kel did, even though it would pain him to have to make that choice.

Kel IS like Jon and will likely become even more so as she ages, but crossing the border just isn't one of those places where their similarities are showcased to me.

The funniest thing to me about Kel, and maybe one of the most interesting because of how understated it is, is that Kel becomes a good commander in the end, not by emulating Wyldon who was cold and implacable and insensitive, or by emulating Raoul who mostly only disobeys orders out of principle or because he has an issue with what the order says about his personal relationship with Jon, but by emulating JON.

Kel doesn't even LIKE Jon, she BARELY respects him as a person. He's a good enough ruler that she's willing to fight for him and swear loyalty to him and to at least mostly believe that he wouldn't work with Blayce to make his own killing monsters, but that's as far as it goes for Kel. If he's kind to her, she finds it uncomfortable and almost untrustworthy because she assumes he doesn't care about her and so his kindness and respect towards her must be fake.

But from the outside, as readers, we know just how much Jon fought for Kel. We know how much he does respect her right to be a knight. Jon is the sole reason that Kel DID get the opportunity to prove herself, if he'd capitulated to Wyldon completely, she just wouldn't have ever been allowed to join. Kel doesn't KNOW THAT, obviously, but we do. We know that Jon did everything he could to find a way to convince Wyldon to let Kel become a page. While Wyldon claims later that the reason he chose to let her stay at the end of the probation year was because his better judgment convinced him she'd earned it, I'd be willing to bet that part of that better judgment also included knowing if he couldn't prove to JON that she needed to go, then he'd be in trouble. Kel was training and working in front of plenty of other trainers and teachers who could easily contradict Wyldon's lies if he'd tried it, many of whom are closer to Jon than they are to Wyldon.

Kel's experiences and feelings about that experience are entirely valid, and she doesn't have the knowledge we do about how hard Jon fought for her, so it's not shocking that she's upset with him for a good portion of her series. She never even discovers this truth by the end of her series, even though she does get a lesson from Jon and Thayet (and Raoul to some degree) about how politics and compromises work in order to make changes happen. So her opinion of him by the end is boiled down to the quote from Squire: "good kings weren't always good men." It makes sense for her to think this, but because Kel's knowledge base is so limited (and her worldview so black and white for much of her series), it makes her an EXTREMELY unreliable narrator about this particular issue.

Kel believes that while Jon generally does his duty and keeps the peace, he doesn't actually care all that much about his people as individuals. But in their only meaningful conversation in Squire, Jon is able to point out that he (and Thayet, who is actually equal to Jon in power, something Kel either doesn't know which would be a failure in her education or just tends to ignore so she can focus her ire on Jon) has to make a LOT of compromises in order to get ANYTHING useful done at all. Sometimes, often, it means making deals with people he doesn't like or people he just fundamentally disagrees with, because it's the first step in a multi-step plan to help more people in the long run. He also points out that just throwing his weight and authority around in order to be able to change everything he wants to change immediately regardless of what anyone else thinks about it is a great way to get himself and his family killed. Because even if he had good intentions, that would be tyranny. It does make Kel think a little, but she doesn't tend to like him much still afterwards, her resentment from her page years will always color her opinion of him a little.

However, then she gets to Haven and she's suddenly tossed into a position of leadership over a lot of other people, many of whom disagree with each other or disagree with her or both. And all of the sudden, Kel has to make compromises. She doesn't LIKE the way the sergeants often treat their men, especially the sergeants whose men are convicts, but there's very very little she can do about it without really pissing off those same sergeants and that's not something she can afford to do. There's a moment when Neal starts getting frustrated about the treatment of the convicts and she takes him out to vent to her so he doesn't vent to the sergeants, something that the sergeants would then take out on their men. Kel's reasoning as she does this is that she "preferred to avoid battles with them now so she would have authority with them later if she needed to use it." Later, Kel is talking to Daine and she says "That's all this job is... Trying to please everyone and pleasing no one. And it will only get worse, not better."

Both of these moments showcase Kel choosing to make compromises. She may not like the way the sergeants treat the convicts, but she needs to stay on the sergeants' good sides because she doesn't have enough resources to butt heads with them nor enough authority to just force the issue, and even if she DID, it could cause the sergeants to become troublesome or take out their frustration with her on the men in ways she can't see as well. But staying on the sergeants' good sides might mean letting some of their maltreatment slide if it's not physically harming the convicts. And even setting that aside, she's dealing with nearly 500 refugees eventually, all of which are from different towns in the area and have different needs, not all of which she can accommodate. This requires compromise. Sometimes she can please some of them and not others, but mostly she probably just ends up not pleasing anybody because that's often how compromises WORK.

She never makes the active connection to Jon and his lesson on leadership from Squire while she's in Haven, but that quote up there about how this job (aka being a commander) is all about trying to please everyone and pleasing no one? It sounds a HECK of a lot like "good kings weren't always good men." You can try your best to help others, but often doing the right thing can involve making everyone unhappy. You can't be everybody's friend if you're going to get anything done.

Some of this she might've learned from Raoul's style of command, but Raoul commands a fairly small amount of people (at least in comparison to a King), and so we see him able to be pretty friendly to the people he commands in a way that Jon is perhaps unable to do. And she might believe that she learned some of this from Wyldon, but Wyldon had a tendency to be very unfair and biased due to his raging bigotry and conservative values, as well as the fact that he doesn't actually even LIKE being a training master and that likely impacted the way he treated the pages (he's almost never that kind to the pages, whereas we see him capable of being quite kind with the refugees later, which is where Kel comes to the conclusion that he hadn't enjoyed being a training master).

But Jon makes an entire speech about how he (and Thayet) have been working THEIR ENTIRE REIGN to change laws that help people. He explains how they have to consider the needs of merchants, nobles, farmers, street people, priests/priestesses, and mages. They have to consider not only what these people might need or want, but also what they could do when they feel sufficiently offended and how that could impact not just the royal family or the nobility but the realm as a whole. Jon points out that they HAVE made changes, for the better, and that just because they don't always succeed at everything or because they have to compromise sometimes, doesn't mean they aren't working at making changes or that they don't care about helping people. Not everyone you have power over is going to be your friend, they might not even be someone you like. But if you're going to take on the job of leadership, that's something you have to be willing to accept and work with, which often means making compromises with people whose needs and values are contradictory to your own.

Jon probably knows when he makes the compromise with Wyldon that it will likely impact a lot of people's good opinion of him. Alanna is right there and clearly angry, and we know Thayet doesn't like the decision, either. And it's entirely possible that Jon knows in the moment that Kel herself will put the blame on him because he's the King. But he also knows that if he insists on Kel being allowed to be a page without trying to compromise with Wyldon, Wyldon will quit over it and he'll end up with ten DIFFERENT problems that could cause a lot bigger issues to far more people than just one girl. So he makes the compromise. He sacrifices Alanna and Thayet and even Kel's good opinion of him in order to ensure that Kel gets the opportunity to become a Knight without turning all of his nobles against him which could ultimately lead to a civil war. Is it fair? No, and he knows it. But it's the best option he has in order to get the outcome they all actually want which is just for Kel to have the chance to prove herself.

Kel has to make similar choices once she's finally in a position of leadership of her own. And whether she realizes it or not, without ever even spending more than a few minutes with Jon, she ends up emulating his leadership style more than anybody else's because it WORKS and it works WELL. She'll probably never admit it, she might never even realize it herself, but she's so much more like Jon than any of the other men she sees as role models. And I love that. I love the dramatic irony of that, that the one person Kel only barely respects because of a compromise he made on her behalf that she'll never even know about, is the person Kel ends up most resembling. Jon is the reason she has the opportunity to become the Protector of the Small in the first place, Jon is the person who created that environment that allowed her to nurture those values, and she'll probably never even really be able to acknowledge that, because sometimes that's what being a good leader means.

[ghostgirl-22]

artrick phone sex

I gotchu, my love <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! First time dynamics, angst, Art has avoidance issues like me.

Apologies this may be too long and full of my own personal angst I fear.

—-

“Art?” It’s Patrick.

Art feels his stomach sinking and now he wishes he’d avoided his call, again. He rolls over on his bed and looks at the sparsely decorated wall of his dorm room. It’s his first time talking to Patrick since… since…

He shivers and tries to put it out of his mind.

“Hey,” Art says and clears his throat. “What’s up?”

Patrick chuckles.

Art shivers again. Did his voice always sound that way? Or is Art just crazy still? He’s been really crazy lately. It’s been two weeks and he’s still…

“Really? What’s up?” Patrick mimics. “That’s all you have to say?”

Art shrugs for the benefit of no one but himself. “What—um— what’s wrong with that?”

“Oh I don’t know…” Patrick hums and then he sighs. “Okay fuck it. I’ll go with it. Are you okay?”

Art is still anxious, his stomach still uneasy. It’s just Patrick. His oldest and closest and best friend and yet he can’t relax. He can’t settle down and they're just talking on the phone. He can’t imagine seeing him in person when he inevitably shows up to Stanford again to watch Tashi play. Everything is different now.

“I’m fine, Patrick.” He lies.

“But you don’t want to talk to me?” Patrick sounds weird. Worried? A little. Disappointed? Probably. Sad? Definitely.

Art sighs, he doesn’t want Patrick to be sad. “No I— I’ve just been busy. We had finals last week. And um…. practice has been crazy. I’m um… I started seeing this girl and—” he hears Patrick huff a laugh but barrels through, ignoring it. “Sorry I missed your calls.”

“And texts,” Patrick adds.

“I’m sorry,” Art says again.

They’re quiet for a while. Art turns back to look at the tv. He was watching Sports Center, they were talking about gymnastics. Apparently there had just been some kind of qualifier competition.

“Who’s this new girl your seeing?” Patrick asks. This time Art can’t tell what his tone is.

“Uh well she’s nice, pretty. She’s actually not on the team. She’s an English major.”

“Sounds hot,” Patrick says, flatly.

“Yeah, she’s um— she’s nice,” Art says. “Are you—are you high?”

“A little. I won’t lie. Me and the buddy I was telling you about we smoked a couple and then went and got tacos and Margaritas. So fucking good. Who knew Dallas was a food town?”

Art laughs. He begins to relax, this feels more like best friend stuff. Maybe he was overreacting. Avoiding him for two weeks. But of course that wasn’t the only reason Art was avoiding him. “What happened to your match?”

“Uh well— I lost again. This shit is so fucking rigged.” Patrick complains.

“Dude that fucking sucks,” Art says. He sits up on his bed and looks around for his own weed stash.

“Yeah, it’s fine though. I’m going against this guy tomorrow, stats are all over the place but I think I can take him.”

“Whats his name?”

“Moussa or Mousso… I can’t remember but he’s French. Kinda hot, actually.”

Art feels his stomach flip flop again. “Uh… so what about Tashi?”

“She’s good, she actually answers my calls. I mean not tonight but she told me her cousin would be in town so…”

”Do you want me to beg for forgiveness or something?” Art says, smirking.

Patrick takes a breath and doesn’t say anything while Art is rummaging through the bottom drawer of his night stand. He finds the baggy he was looking for and sits up on the bed, legs crossed as he opens it.

“I’m sorry but I was honestly busy.” Art adds when Patrick still hasn’t said anything.

“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” Patrick asks.

Art stops moving. His stomach begins doing all kinds of things again.

“Look I don’t want to… I don’t want it to be weird,” Patrick continues. “I can do whatever you need. If you want me to pretend I didn’t fuck you… okay fine. But you have to talk to me because I’m going fucking crazy.”

Art stares at the television but he’s not seeing anything. He gives up on the weed and tosses it on the nightstand. “Yeah um… okay.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Art mutters. “I’m— we can talk.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No,” Art says. “I—“ he lays back down on his side and looks at the wall, pulling his knees up. He wishes with everything in him that they hadn’t done it in here. In his fucking bed.

He’s got it on a loop playing in his head all the time. Patrick crawling between his legs. The way he looked, hair still damp from the shower, freckles all over, pupils too big, blue eyes all sparkly. How he smelled, like vanilla soap and cigarettes. What he sounded like, voice so much deeper and softer than normal, saying stupid things like “You’re so fucking pretty”, “Gonna make you scream my name,” and then moaning when he got it in.

And how it felt.

God.

How it felt.

That’s the part that stays with him. How much it hurt. And then how much it didn’t hurt at all. By the end Patrick was touching something inside him and he was seeing stars. In between consciousness and some other plane of existence is how good it felt. That was the silly part. Feeling like he wanted it again and again and again.

He let Patrick do it again in the morning. Patrick’s arms wrapped around his waist fucking him on his side while he stared at this wall his whole body blooming with pleasure. And then just sitting with it for the rest of the day. The ache. The stretch. The feeling like everyone could tell. Patrick left that afternoon for the airport, sent Art a text. Well that was fun. Which he ignored. Called him that evening. Also ignored.

Art had been trying to avoid thinking about it ever since (it was impossible). He’s thrown himself into school, tennis, he’s even tried to talk to a new girl. It didn’t go anywhere. In his worst moments he’s even tried to flirt with Tashi. But then he remembers she’s fucking Patrick and his mind swings right back around to the way Patrick fucked him. And that makes him more crazy because now he doesn’t know what the fuck he actually wants.

And every fucking night, late at night he’s lying in bed staring at the wall touching himself over and over… thinking about it.

He doesn’t know how to say any of this to Patrick.

“Did you die?” Patrick asks, dryly. Even now since they’ve been on the phone, just hearing Patricks stupid voice is making Art’s stomach hurt, and his cock fill up.

“No… I’m just confused okay,” Art says.

“About what?”

“I don’t know.”

”Did you hate it?” Patrick asks.

“Not really,” Art murmurs.

“You’re so fucking full of shit,” Patrick groans.

Art sighs and realizes he just mindlessly put his palm on his cock because of how gravelly Patrick’s voice sounds. And fine. Patrick can make him crazy all the way in whatever fucking city hes in however many fucking miles he is away from Palo Alto.

“I’m sorry if I don’t know how to feel. I’ve never… I’d never done any of that before.” Art says quietly.

“And yet you practically begged for it in the morning.” Patrick says softly.

Art swallows thickly.

“I can’t get it out of my head.” Patrick continues. “The way you were rubbing against my dick before you even woke up properly. Fuck. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Art’s rubbing himself now. “I can’t either,” he sighs, he’s starting to lose it again. He feels silly. Too silly to care if Patrick can tell.

“Yeah?” Patrick sounds eager, breathy.

“It was… I still… I still feel it. Is that crazy?” Art says quietly.

Patrick takes a deep breath. “Fuck. You drive me so fucking insane. Are you fucking touching yourself?”

“’m sorry. I just…” Art says, closing his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Art knows he’s never gonna recover from this but right now it doesn’t matter. He would stop if he could but he can’t.

”You still feel me?”

“Mmhm.”

“Feel me stretching you? you’re so fucking tight I don’t even know if it’s all gonna fit,” Patrick says, his voice sounds like it did. When Arts eyes are closed it’s almost like he can feel Patrick’s breath on his skin.

“Ah—“ Art gasps, grabbing himself properly. “I like the stretch.”

“You love it.” Patrick says. “You don’t even want to wait. Don’t want me to take my time, you’re just so eager you’re pushing that pretty ass back on me.”

“Yeah,” Art gasps, he rolls onto his back and puts the phone on speaker, letting one leg fall open as he jerks himself. “It feels so good—when you fuck me. Its too much. Im too full please… please I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“Oh you fucking liar,” Patrick moans. “You can take it baby. I know you can. You’re a little cock slut already and its only your first time. Fuck. You’re so tight.”

”So tight,” Art says mindlessly as he tries to ease two fingers along his ass, the way Patrick had done before he entered. “I wanna… I want you to… I—I miss you.”

”I miss you too,” Patrick says. “If I was there I’d have you on all fours taking my dick all night.”

“Ah—mmh— Patrick I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ Art cries. The fingers are enough… even dry.

“Come on, yeah… fucking come on my big fat dick sweetheart… come on.. nngh…” Patrick moans.

It’s enough. Hot strings of pearly white are suddenly spurting out of him and spilling everywhere, on his fingers and clothes. On the bedspread. He’s breathless, as his whole body goes lax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I need to be in you again, gahhh..” Art can hear Patrick’s bed squeaking wherever he is and then he’s groaning loudly, and gasping through his own orgasm. “Oh god, oh shit… that was…”

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling.

”Mm don’t fucking ignore me again,” Patrick says.

As relaxed as Art feels right now. Distantly, the pit in his stomach is returning. “Patrick… are we… I mean… are we still gonna be… friends?”

“Yeah of course,” Patrick says, easy. He yawns. “Always.”

Art feels tied up in knots but he can tell Patrick’s relaxed, sated, relieved even. If anything he’s going to be asleep in five minutes. No point getting any deeper now.

“You wanna fall asleep on the phone or—?” Patrick asks, yawning again.

“No it’s… it’s fine.” Art says. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Mmkay. Sweet dreams.”

Art bites his tongue to keep himself from saying something fucking stupid that he can’t take back. The line goes dead. Art stares at the ceiling for a minute, the three words he can’t say platonically to his best friend who he’s now fucking, are flitting about in his head. And Patrick wonders why he’s confused. He grabs his second pillow and pulls it over his face. He’s so fucked.

[nowimjustastranger]

Has Stcmo Ford come across a dimension that alerted him a Stanley was in danger, but he got there, everything seems fine. Keyword “seems”.

And after numerous checks, everything seems like in order. On the surface it just looks like another dimension with Ford, Fiddleford and Stan living together in gravity falls.

But there is just SOMETHING that feels immensely wrong about this dimension.

Like the way that this Stanley and Fiddleford seem a little too overly content with their lives, they aren’t seem to be lost or forgetting things so it can’t be the memory gun. And by the looks of it, the Bill Cipher of this dimension is dead.

In fact the more Stcmo Ford looks into it…

Filbrick is dead, Fiddleford’s wife Emma-May seems to be dead, Shermie is dead, newspapers on about the last few years show that many gang leaders have either gone mysteriously missing or have seemed to have been killed. Jimmy Snakes, Rico, several people who knew Stanley in prison are dead as well. Many people that would be considered a threat have been killed.

There’s something off about this Ford as well, he seems to always be watching Fiddleford and Stanley, the two always were within watch.

Like a wolf watching over his two sheep.

Not entirely sure what era this is happening in, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume it's a "Mystery Trio AU" type situation, so it would be set in the early years in Gravity Falls.

Ford has been in Dimension 1R^86 for three days now and he's nearly at his wits end, he has no idea what the threat is or even where it might come from. He hasn't slept at all either, maintaining constant vigilance of the shack and it's inhabitants.

Ford is currently perched in one of the large trees surrounding the shack, hidden in the branches with a direct line of sight to both entrances. There's been nothing, no activity around the shack within a fifty foot radius. Which is another thing, Ford hasn't spotted so much as a gnome rooting through the trash in the three days he's been watching.

It's... something's not right but he can't put a finger on what.

With a growl, Ford's eyes flick to the icon in the top corner of his hud, selecting it with a thought so the data flooded onto the screen, his proximity sensors online to warn him if anything tries to sneak up on him while he's preoccupied.

D – 1R^86 | 29 yo | COD: Blunt Force Trauma

No change.

Ford exited out of the data with a frustrated huff, he'd done a lot of digging into the deaths that surrounded Stan and the results all pointed toward one Ford Pines being the culprit, but the way that he watched over his brother and Fiddleford so intently made it highly unlikely that he was the threat.

The Ford in this dimension reminded Ford 419"3 of himself, an ambush predator watching and waiting for the opportunity to strike. A wolf that muzzled itself in the presence of it's sheep so they would not be afraid, because despite the wolf's nature, those sharp teeth and claws were never meant for the sheep.

They were for other predators.

Other predators that might also be watching and waiting for the wolf to stray too far from the sheep, waiting for the wolf's teeth to go dull as it grew fat and lazy within the comfort of it's den. But not these wolves who starved themselves to keep their body lean, who kept their teeth sharp with frequent hunts, who lulled other predators into a false sense of security by leaving the sheep unattended-

Wait. Shit. How long ago did the Ford leave the house?

His proximity sensors shrieked at him and Ford barely managed to dodge the first bolt that had been aimed at his side, the second burying itself in his calf. So the Ford was looking to incapacitate and not kill, not exactly a comforting realization.

Ford's landing was sloppy, his leg buckling when he hit the ground in a crouch, giving the Ford just enough time to line up a clear shot. Neither moved, both waiting to see what the other would do. The Ford's aim was steady and his finger poised to shoot, his empty stare more akin to a shark than a wolf.

"You've been scurrying around for long enough, little rat." The Ford spoke calmly, with a voice void of emotion. It was unnerving, how robotic this Ford was when he wasn't with his brother and Fiddleford, like he was removing a mask. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Your brother is going to die." Ford divulged, watching the Ford's hands flex on the crossbow, indecisive. Ford could work with that. "I can stop it from happening, but only if you let me work."

"You really think I'm going to trust you at your word?" The Ford asked with an ominous tilt of his head, dark eyes studying Ford as if he were a specimen. It made Ford's skin crawl, fingers twitching with the urge to gouge the Ford eyes out just so he would stop looking at Ford the same way He used to.

"You're going to have to because if you kill me, your brother is as good as dead."

[gingernut1314]

Don't Jinx It ch. 5

Summary: Silco comes to visit you at work to let you know he has a surprise to show you.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, Nadia is Viktor's mom, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, pre-Sheriff Grayson, reader using water manipulation, unrequited love, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, The Gray)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: so I'm still SCREAMING over those Vander flashbacks and Silco--SILCO my loveeee. So we're giving Silco long hair as per canon eheheeheh its perfect. Also we're aged up a bit now so lots of fun! I hope you all enjoy!

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Act 2: 

Four Years Later

For the past year or so the same small batch of enforcers visited at your Boss’ diner-shop. A batch of enforcers you were convinced your boss only let in cause she had made friends with their Sergent. A one Ms. Sergeant Grayson. 

You, Nadia, and Sevika watched Grayson and Boss laugh together in the booth they occupied, chatting with each other like they’d known each other their whole lives. 

“I still don’t get it.” Sevika gruffed, slicing into a gray-scaled fish you two had helped catch that morning. “Boss hates enforcers. Spits on their shiny gold badges any time she spots one, but she’s all but eating out of the palm of that one's hand.” 

“They’re fucking.” You chimed in from where you leaned against the counter watching the spectacle unfold before you. “They have to be fucking. That’s the reason.” 

“So vulgar.” Nadia shook her head at you two, nose wrinkled at your words. “Maybe Boss has just made a friend in her. Is that so hard to believe?” 

“No, no. You’re right.” Sevika started, beginning to slice the pink flesh of the fish into tiny strips. “Boss definitely’s been in her. That’s for sure.” You laughed while Nadia huffed. 

“You two are barbarians.” You flipped around, snatching a bit of sliced fish Sevika had just cut. You grabbed for a second slice before you had even shoved the first into your mouth, the woman chopping her knife all too close to your fingers in her way of telling you to knock it off. 

“You know we can’t help it, Nadia.” You mumbled around chews, the fish nearly melting on your tongue. You offered the second slice to Nadia who took it gently. 

“Unfortunately, I do know.” She huffed, taking a small bite from the bit of fish. 

“You coming to hang out with us tonight?” You asked Nadia hopefully. 

“Forgive me.” You gave a dramatic groan Sevika mimicked. “Nikolai and I are taking Viktor to spy on the newest…eh…flying…ship?” You quirked a brow at her as she bit another near-mouse-sized bite from her slice of fish. 

“Airship?” 

“Yes!” She beamed at you, “I prefer to keep my eyes on the earth and my paints but you know how my boy is.” You nodded, peaking a glance at the fish Sevika was still cutting up. 

“He still gonna build me that mini-fridge?” You joked, slyly inching your fingers closer and closer to the bits of fish. Nadia chuckled at your words. 

“I think in the near future, yes. He’s slowly beginning to toy with bigg--” You yelped when Sevika snatched hold of your wrist and yanked you closer. 

“You keep being a little seagull and Boss’ girlfriend is gonna have none.” You smirked up at her. 

“You think that’s it? They're together together?” Sevika gave you a long roll of her eyes, releasing your wrist. “It’s a perfectly tragic story. Two enemies turned lovers yearning for each other despite everything.” You gave a playful gasp. “They’re forbidden lovers.” 

“You two need to stop meddling in their business. They just seem to be friends.” Nadia chimed in. 

“You’re right, Dee. Enemies to friends to lovers.” Sevika joined in once more, taking a slice of fish and tossing it your way. You caught it just as Nadia sighed deeply. “Makes it even more tragic.” You gave a mockingly mournful nod. 

“You two are insufferable.” She popped the last of her fish into her mouth before she went back to her tables. Tables you and Sevika had purposely made sure were other like Undercitians, not wishing Nadia to be near the true barbarians of the night. 

Nadia was kind. Too trusting of others and both of you feared it would only lead to an enforcer getting the wrong idea.

You and Sevika, on the other hand, had no problem letting those bucket heads know just where they could shove it. And if they needed a bit of help neither of you had any problems doing it for them.

You had just shoved your newest piece of fish into your mouth when the bell hanging above the door gave a ring. 

“Better tell him it’s not a good time before Boss kills him,” Sevika spoke, gray eyes looking to who had just walked in. Excitement shot through your chest fast at her words, knowing exactly who she had spoken them about in moments. 

You tried your best to not whip around in your search for him. You didn’t want him to actually think you were excited to see him. No…nope. Not at all.

Silco’s seafoam gaze found you instantly, a small smile tugging to his lips as he walked over. 

“You have two minutes Silco,” Boss called from her booth, her eyes not lifting once from her glass of wine, which she gave a small swirl. “Before I let this one take you back with her to Piltover.” 

“Be gone in one,” Silco responded, Boss giving a heavy sigh.

Grayson, despite her being a horrid badge-wearing oppressor, was fair. She was one of the very few enforcers, maybe even the only enforcer, who didn’t have a stick shove so far up their ass it stuck out of their mouth. 

And she chuckled at Boss, saying something only she could hear. 

“Gods--I mean their practically fucking right in front of us,” Sevika muttered so only you and the quickly approaching Silco could hear.

“What do you think?” You asked in way of greeting Silco, who pulled so close you could smell the fresh shower he had just taken. It was a smell you thoroughly enjoyed, one you wanted to grab and rub your face all over, but one you knew had a bitter backing. 

The same year you had met Silco, Piltover had reopened the mines they had promised would stay closed forever. Opened them in the promise of progress and ample jobs for all. In helping ease the “struggle of the good people” down here.

You wanted to say it was fine at first. That it gave jobs to those who might not have had one otherwise. That Piltover might be right for once, but you would only be fooling yourself. 

Working in those mines was like dancing with death herself and Piltover knew it just as well as everyone else.

You had the usual risks, cave mouths collapsing and people getting lost within the labyrinth that the mines made up, but then there was the Gray. Smoke that still leaked its way out into The Lanes from past generations, more so now thanks to the mines having reopened as such. 

And the Gray--well, the Gray was death’s lover. 

Smoke so thick you couldn’t see through it. A smog that clogged your throat and made it feel like every breath you took filled your lungs with a thousand tiny needles.

Janna, the very Winds of the Undercity, had been trying ever since its birth to rid its poisonous wrath from us. She told you the story of her first coming to the Undercity a few times over the years. She had been called here on the prayers of the people who were suffering from its oppressive choking hold. She had managed to keep it at bay. To give the people a moment's relief to breathe freely.

But ever since then, she has been struggling to try and purify the smog. 

It was a story she typically told you when she had you practice trying to purify the waters lapping at The Lanes’ jagged edges. 

And every time she had you practice, every time she told you her tale, you asked how you were supposed to do the same if she, who was a goddess, couldn’t even do it herself?

She would settle you with her glowing, unblinking gaze before instructing you to try again. 

All play no work that one…if only. 

You hated that Silco and Vander went down there, especially since there was nothing to be done for the Gray. It was something you told him many times that same year he had started work. So many times he had snapped at you to stop because it wouldn’t change a thing. 

What very little money the boys earned went right into The Last Drop to keep it standing as Piltover rose taxes and Vander’s father passed, leaving every leak and creaky floorboard to him.

So you agreed to stop bothering him with your worries…though it did nothing to keep you from doing so voicelessly. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Silco glanced their way, the two seeming to have grown even closer in the two seconds you had taken your eyes off them. “Seems a perfectly typical interaction between officer and civilian.” His eyes found yours own more, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You couldn’t help but look over every feature you could get away with looking at. Took in his nicely sharp features, his thinly soft-looking lips, and the shaggy hair he was allowed to grow out. Hair he planned on growing out so long he could braid it and gods did you agree. 

No longer was he the scraggly and bony teen you had first met. No, he had grown rather handsome. 

Painfully so. 

A beauty you struggled to think past most days.

And just as you knew how handsome he had grown, so had the rest of the Undercity. Women and men alike were drawn in by his looks and his smooth talk. 

His all-seeing and ever-calculating eyes only grew sharper. Eyes he used to see just how to make a girl grow ever the more flustered and fidgety under it. Eyes he used to track and log just what they liked to hear from him. 

He had become quite the playboy, capturing the hearts of many but never holding onto them for long. 

You think it has grown into a game to him. A game to see how many he can draw in and claim. See how many he can break in the same breath. 

You think sometimes he tries to play the game with you…and oh do you wish to play, but you knew he never truly meant the looks and the playful words he sent your way. 

You two were…friends. 

Strictly. 

Even when it disappointed you greatly. 

“Nah, they’re screwing.” Sevika huffed, reeling you back in from Silco’s charming looks. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, backing slightly away only for your hips to hit the counter. His eyes quickly tracked your movements. Movements he did the opposite of and stepped closer one more. 

“You get off work at seven.” He matter of factly told you. 

“What? Do you keep my schedule pinned to your wall or something?” Silco all but rolled his eyes at you. 

“I have something to show you.” Curiosity sparked at your heart and you instantly leaned closer despite knowing you should keep far away for your own heart's sake. 

“Ooo…what is it?” 

“And ruin the surprise?” You nodded quickly. Surprises were great but you found yourself impatience. Silco teasingly smirked your way. “Never.” And just like that he pulled away, leaving you feeling as if you had been tossed around by a riptide. “I’ll be back at seven.” He called to you as he headed back for the door. 

You swallowed sharply.

“Yeah. Okay.” You called back. 

You watched him give Nadia a small wave goodbye, the woman more than edger to do the same, before he was back out the door like he never was there in the first place. 

Sevika huffed at you, gaining your attention once more. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” You watched her sharply as she plated the beautifully cut fish on an equally as beautiful plate. She fixed you with an all-too-teasing gaze. “You two are just as bad. No…no. Worse. You’re worse.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as she passed you the plate to take over to the Boss and Sergent Grayson. 

“What do you mean?” Sevika all but ignored you, looking back over the diner.

“Dee, it’s worse right?” Sevika called to Nadia who was carrying a stack of dirty plates back to the kitchen. 

“Much worse.” She agreed as she passed. Before you could snap at the two for an answer, Boss called your name sounding not pleased. 

“This is not over.” You huffed Sevika’s way who only smirked back at you. 

“Sure, guppy. Sure.” 

You spent the rest of your shift cursing yourself for not having packed a better change of clothes. You had planned on being able to head home to change into something a little more nice before you went to The Last Drop, but Silco’s surprise threw a big wrench in your plans.

Not that you were complaining. Not truly.

You would pick hanging out with Silco over a nicer pair of clothes any day.

You found Silco waiting outside for you just as he had said, messing around with one of his daggers. He perked up instantly when you emerged, dagger put away as you came to his side.

“So…you want to tell me now?” You asked, only for Silco to lean downward so that he was looking directly into your eyes. You felt your heart give another damning flutter in your chest. 

“Tsk, tsk.” He smirked, “Impatient thing aren’t we?”

“This just something you're figuring out?” Silco gave a small, amused huff of air from his nose. Those seafoam eyes danced over your face, not helping the restless movement in your chest.

“Come,” He gestured with his head for you to follow. “It’s not too far away.”

“As soon as I drop Nadia off I’m getting drunk, ya hear you two!” Sevika called as you began following after Silco. 

“Won’t take long,” Silco called back to her. 

“Better not.” She shouted, “I’m itching to beat you at cribbage tonight.” 

“Want to bet on that outcome?” Silco glanced back to the woman, eyes bright in the promise of competition. 

Your two friends were unchallengeable at any card game they played. Their smarts and trickery were not something to go up against lighty.

When the two played against each other, the game always was a close one. One point could determine the winner.

And between the two…you would bet on Silco to win. He was the only person in all of the Undercity you had known to ever beat Sevika and beat her he did every time. 

Sevika, of course, never admitted it.

“Nah, 'cause I know I’m winning. No need to jinx it all to hell on a damn bet.” She called back as she started off with Nadia. 

“If she wishes to win that bad all she needs to do is play against you.” You sharply shoved Silco away who only gave a chuckle. 

“You’re an asshole.” You huffed, pulling the strap of your patched-up bag further up your shoulder. “I can play cards.” 

“You can play Go Fish.” 

“Hell yeah I can play Go Fish! I’m the best damn Go Fish player in all of The Undercity. No--The Undercity and Piltover.” You threw your arms out dramatically as you turned on your heel to face Silco as you walked backward. “In the entirety of Runterra.” Silco quirked an amused brow at you.

“Oh really? The whole world?” You gave a humming nod. “Well then, Go Fish World Champion, we’ll play tonight.” 

“And I’ll beat you.” You knew you wouldn’t. Even in the only card game you had mastered, Silco was still the best at it. 

“Want to bet on it?” You turned on your heel once more to face away from him. 

“Nope. Sevkia’s right. Betting beforehand is only going to jinx it.” You once more adjusted the strap of your bag.

“Jinxes are just a fiction.” You shrugged. 

“Maybe…but what if they're not? Huh? What are you gonna do then?” You asked, craning your head to look back at Silco who was watching you closely, an easy smile on his thin lips that you couldn’t help but mimic. 

“Then I guess I’ll face it head-on.” He quickened his pace a bit to come back to your side. “Let me carry your bag for you.” He offered his hand out for the item. 

“You trying to steal from me?” You asked in mock concern. 

“Oh yes. I want your dirty work clothes and sea shells.” You shrugged. 

“You're right. The sea shells would be worth stealing.” You pulled the tote from your shoulder and handed it to Silco, who slung it over his. “Got a pocket watch in there too.” 

“Oh? And where did that come from?” He asked, pulling at the edge of the bag to look for said watch.

“Those enforcers were so generous. Just gave it to me out of the goodness of their heart.” Silco let the bag fall back against his side. 

“How kind of them.” He huffed. “Why your boss feeds them is beyond me.” You gave a sharp nod. 

“Agreed. That’s why we think there is something else going on. Boss kills enforcers on the spot typically.” Silco shook his head, eyes turning away from you as a deep anger filled them. 

“Shiny things are nice,” Silco started, seemingly changing the topic.

“Very nice.” You agreed once more. 

“But it’s not worth putting you at risk.” Concern. He was concerned for you and was telling you that. 

You couldn’t help that damn fluttering again.

“I thought we agreed a long time ago not to do this.” Silco’s hardened eyes glanced back down at you, seafoam softening at their edge the longer he watched you. 

“Do what?” 

“Oh please be careful. Oh, I’m so scared for you. Oh, those big bad enforcers are going to catch you. Oh please be safe.” Silco gave you a dramatic eye roll at your mockery.

“Please. I’m hardly saying any of that.” You gave him just as dramatic an eye roll back. 

“Really? Then what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying--” Silco’s gaze flickered quickly over your face before looking away once more. “That if you steal from them enough your boss will find out.” 

“Still kinda feel like you're worried about me.” You felt Silco’s hand on your arm only for it to shove you away. A wicked cackle pulled from your throat. 

“Look whose being the asshole now.” Silco gruffed. 

Silco led you down another street, through an alleyway, climbed down a steep stairway that seemed to go on forever, and right back down another street before coming to a small, hardly used bridge. 

You knew you were right on the border of the Promenade Level, where your boss’ diner-shop was located, and the Enthresol Level which was where The Last Drop beat at the heart of the city. 

You had taken this route a few times in the past. Only ever with Silco, so you were familiar with it, but why you two were taking this roundabout way to the bar was what nagged at your curiosity when you could have just walked back with Sevkia. 

“What are you--” Silco pressed a thin finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet before heading for the metal ladder built into the side of the bridge. 

You followed close behind, the bite of cold metal digging into your palms. Silco hopped onto the grated platform, rusted bits of metal having created holes here and there within its flooring, before turning to offer you his hand. 

You took it, even though you knew you didn’t need his help, but you knew you needed to be able to feel his skin against yours. Chill skin that was covered in tiny scars and callouses that always made you feel like it was just the two of you in that moment.

He didn’t let go of your hand as he led you over the platform and you couldn’t help the growing warmth that his hand was creating in you. A warmth that rushed up your arm and all over your body. Warmth that made that damning flutter grow near pounding. 

You made it all the way to the other side of the platform and that's when you heard it.

It was soft at first. A sound you almost didn’t believe you were truly hearing until you were standing before the source, staring at the bundle of twigs, string, fur, and hair nestled between a rounded design in the arch of the bridge. 

“Oh…Silco…” You breathed, watching the small, featherless baby birds chirping and chirping for their mother, little bulging bellies no doubt starving. 

“Fantastic aren’t they?” You nodded, holding his hand a little tighter. 

“How--they shouldn’t be able to live down here.” Your voice was quiet to keep from startling the babies, but also in disbelief. 

Quiet in a growing dread that they probably wouldn’t make it for very long. 

“Yes…yes, it’s quite strange.” Silco spoke just as softly as you. “I saw their mother and followed her down here. Found these sweet ones.” You felt his hand hold yours just as tightly back. “But this means it can really happen.” You turned away from the miracle before you to look up at him. 

Silco’s seafoam eyes were already watching you.

And you knew that look in his eyes. A look he only got when talking about one thing. 

“Zaun.” He nodded, that hopeful gleam in his eyes burning with passion. It was a dream you all let burn deep within your bellies. A dream you all spoke of often. Spoke of enough you all had given such an outlandish wish a name. 

You turned to look back at the babies, who still had yet to stop begging for food. 

“But what if…those plants don’t even live near the bridge.” You thought of the rooftop you two had first encountered each other on. A roof where someone had been trying to grow tomatoes, though those tomatoes had withered and died before they could even yield a ripe crop.

“We’ll come visit them. Maybe we can help keep them going.” You nodded, even though your negative side nagged at you that it wouldn’t matter. That these sweet babies would wither and die before they had even sported their first feathers. 

As if reading your mind, Silco grabbed your other hand, turning you to face him. To bare his determination for Zuan down onto you. 

“It will happen.” He spoke like he was trying to convince himself it would. You nodded again.

“I believe it. We’ll make it happen.” But that look didn’t fade from his eyes. A look that mixed with something else that told you something was upsetting him. Something outside of the typical truths of your lives you lived down here in the filth. “What--did something happen?” You asked hesitantly. 

“I--” He hesitated himself. It had taken Silco a long time to fully be able to open up to you. Friends you may be, he kept his true feelings, deep dark ones, hidden behind a high wall. And though he more freely spoke with you on such topics now, you knew it was still a struggle. That, even though the wall had created a door for you to peek inside, the door wasn’t always unlocked.

“A mine shaft caved in this morning.” It was all he had to say for you to understand what had happened. For you to know why he had followed the bird down here. Why he had come to visit you at work. Why he had voiced his worry for you. 

Because he’d seen death today. 

More death that only Piltover could be blamed for and Zaun was Silco’s--no, everyone’s last bit of hope for things to get better.

You silently pulled him closer. Silently pulled your hands from his only so you could wrap them around his waist and hold him tight. And Silco silently let you hug him, when typically such affection was slapped away. 

Silco snaked his hands around your own waist, pulling you flush against his thin, yet strong body. You felt his breath against your neck as he buried his face there, warming your skin nicely.

You two stood like that for a long moment. Long enough that the babies stopped chirping, thinking you two had turned statue. 

“I have an idea.” You murmured, giving him one last, tight squeeze before pulling away. Typically you would curse yourself for ending such a moment. A moment you so rarely got but you wanted to try and lift his spirits, if just for a moment. 

Silco watched you carefully as you reached into your bag, which you didn’t bother pulling from his shoulder. You rummaged around for a little bit, making all the random trinkets you carried in it clink together until you pulled out one of the larger shells and your canteen, which you had learned to always carry with you for easy access to water. 

“What are you doing?” He asked to which you tossed him a playful smirk.

“And ruin the surprise? Never.” He huffed in amusement at your repeat of his words from earlier that night. 

He watched you carefully as you found a level spot on the bridge to place the shell, before unscrewing the canteen. With little effort, you reached for the water with your magic, pulling a fist-sized droplet of water out. 

Silco eyes shimmered in fascination, pulling so close his shoulder was pressed against yours. You once more savored the touch, turning yourself so you could peek unstrained glances up at his seafoam eyes here and there as you worked. 

“For their mama. And for these three when they grow up.” You said. Silco glanced down at you as you let the droplet of water fill the shell. “And because it’s magic water.” You gave your fingers a little wiggle at the word magic that further tugged a smile to Silco’s lips. “It’ll never run dry… hopefully.”

“You’ve been practicing,” Silco observed.

“Yep. I’ll be able to create tsunamis next, just you watch.” Silco’s easy smile came back in full then. A smile that brightened his eyes and stirred those damned flutters right back up in your chest. 

“I will.” Silence fell between the two of you, now filled with the returned chirping of the babies. A silence that thickened and made your eyes flicker downward to his lips, which you wanted to feel so so badly against your own. “Thank you…for all that.” You swallowed the growing dryness in your mouth down sharply. 

“Yep--” You gave your throat a little clearing as you turned away from Silco, knowing the longer you looked at his handsome features the more you were going to be drawn in. “Yep. No problem.” You recapped the canteen and all but shoved it into Silco’s arms. 

“Alright, I need a drink.” You announced, making your way towards the ladder and begging your heart to stop beating so loudly. “I’m kinda feelin’ like I might want to bet you about that win now.” Silco laughed, his footsteps sounding as he followed after you.

“I thought you said betting beforehand would only jinx it.” You shrugged, throwing him a mischievous little look. 

“I think I’ll just face it head-on, like you said. I’m feeling lucky.”

Previous | Next

[respectthepetty]

Joke's (Sad) Face

This post is about Joke's face.

But it's not about his actual face.

It's about his Joker face.

While Joke was surrounded by Jack's blue at the hospital, I just couldn't stop thinking about how pretty War is.

Which is why it's so tragic that his character, Joke, spends so much time being sad.

He has been sad since the very beginning and has remained in this state throughout the series.

Which is probably why he created the red Joker moniker.

A joker is a trickster. A joker is similar to a jester. A joker should be happy.

But Joke is anything but happy and his sadness began when he was child who couldn't cope with academic stress, so he began to use the sad face.

Then a kid he never met fixed his frown and turned it upside down. Jack made him smile.

And years later, at a bar late at night, that kid would make Joke smile again.

By simply sitting with him.

Joke was sad about his life, and Jack told him that it was okay.

Then he told him to smile.

Because like I believe, War Joke is so beautiful when he smiles.

Jack, with his blue (spray bottle), has been wiping Joke's sadness away for years, even without knowing it.

And as Joke returned to his childhood home to all the sticky notes marked with red sad faces, he believed he would never be as happy as he was with Jack again.

The time Joke spends with Jack is the happiest of his life because Jack makes Joke happy, which is why Joke got the smiley face tattoo.

Because Jack was a truly happy kid when they first met, and gave that happiness to Joke.

But things change.

Joke's other tattoo is of a dual smiling face and sad face, and when Joke approached Jack after five years, he said he wanted to bring back the old Jack. After that encounter, Jack asked his grandmother if he had changed to which she responded that he couldn't stay a kid forever.

Jack let Joke escape in the fashion event. Jack was blamed for the necklace being stolen, yet showed up to the hotel to help Joke. Jack put himself in the way during the fight to keep Joke safe. Jack always turns the worst situations around and has sacrificed parts of himself as a result.

So Jack is darker now. He is no longer blue. He is black. He can't be Joke's source of happiness when he is struggling to find the good in life himself, so while Joke is in the hospital surrounded by Jack's blue with family and friends, Jack sits alone wearing a red shirt with one tiny lamp to give him warmth.

Jack has his grandmother, who blends both his and Joke's colors, but she's all Jack has ever had, and now she cares for Joke just as much as she loves Jack.

And this is a point Aran made in the very beginning and Hope repeated this episode — Jack, just like Save, doesn't really much. He doesn't have options. Joke does. Jack had to do what he had to do to survive and keep his grandmother safe, but Joke gets to return home to a family and a room that has been kept spotless. Jack doesn't. Well, not if he doesn't fight for it.

And that's what hurts. Jack has to fight for everything. So even though Joke has done a lot for Jack, Jack has done just as much for Joke. He gave Joke a place to stay, food to eat, friends, family, and happiness when Joke had nothing to give and nowhere to go. Jack himself has nothing, yet still gave Joke everything he has had to fight for, including his limited happiness and even the last bits of his color.

So it's important that the episode showed Joke not only giving Jack his color, but also his happiness. Joke has finally turned his sad face into a happy face, on his own.

Joke is depressed, and for so long, because of that, he believed that he couldn't be a source of happiness. Yet on this journey, he has brought happiness to his friends, grandma, and countless people along the way, so here he is, not only giving his color to Toi Ting and Jack, but also his happiness.

Jack has never wanted to see Joke's sad face, which is why he gave Joke his happiness.

And now that Joke is realizing that he is happiness, hopefully Jack never will.

But they'll have to fight for it first.

[an-insignificant-flower]

雷神 風神 レゾナンス

"Raijin Fūjin RESONANCE"

Raijin and Fūjin are two Shinto gods, often depicted as a pair. Raijin is the god of storms and thunder, while Fūjin is the god of wind. Both are some of the oldest gods in the Japanese pantheon, sons of the first goddess of all creation.

Notably, Raijin and Fūjin are escapees from the Land of the Dead...

Imai's signature on this song is about as obvious as it gets even in the title. Fūjin and Raijin have been references for him for a while, and even just a couple of years ago, he had released a long sleeve T-shirt showcasing the pair in a collaboration with LHP for Buck-Tick's 35th anniversary.

Verse 1 (Imai)

上昇気流　雷神　風神　レゾナンス joushoukiryuu　Raijin　Fuujin　RESONANCE FLY HIGH！！　昇天 　　　　　　　 shouten Rising！！　Higher than the sun

(On) the updraft, Raijin, Fūjin, (and) resonance Fly high!! Ascension (to Heaven) Rising!! Higher than the sun

Right off the bat it feels like we're talking about Acchan, with "higher than the sun" posing a challenge to the "aim for the sun and burn" story of Ikaros.

Likewise those of us who have referred to Acchan as a personal Jesus (as he has used the iconography several times) are vindicated with the same term used for the Ascension of Christ.

The term "resonance" in this katakana form means everything you might expect of the same word in English, although one dictionary adds another definition that I find resonates well (yeah, yeah, see what I did there) with the chorus when we get there:

awakening, or arousal (of emotions, etc.)

Also worth a note that the Japanese pronunciation of "rising," at least as it can be heard in the song, is a homophone to "Raijin."

Pre-chorus 1

この地上で生き抜くことだ kono chijou de ikinu koto da

it's how to get by on this earth

Verse 2 (Hoshino)

共振共鳴　雷神　風神　レゾナンス kyoushin kyoumei　Raijin　Fuujin　RESONANCE FLY HIGH！！　昇天 (shouten) Rising！！　Higher than the sun

vibration-oscilation, Raijin, Fūjin, (and) resonance

I'm bending a bit here to make it make sense as lyrics, were they English. The first words here, kyoushin and kyoumei, are both direct synonyms for "resonance" and translate as "resonance" in most dictionaries. However, the former refers to physical vibrations, while the latter refers to sonority (sound).

Pre-chorus 2

雨に撃たれ生き抜くことだ ame ni utare ikinuku koto da

it's how we get by while pelted by rain

Chorus (Imai & Hoshino)

Boys don't cry　ハートに火をつけろ Girls fall in love　ハートに火をつけろ Boys don't cry　ハートに火をつけろ Girls fall in love　ハートに火をつけろ 　　　　　　　 hāto no hi wo tsukero

boys don't cry, set your heart on fire girls fall in love, set your heart on fire

At last we come to the chorus, a call directly to the audience, and the feature of the 15-second spot preview of the last few weeks. I'll talk more about this in my summary below.

Verse 3

FLY HIGH！！　昇天 (shouten) Rising！！　Higher than the sun

Pre-chorus 3

この世界で生き抜くことだ kono sekai de ikinuhu koto da

it's how we get by in this world

Chorus

Boys don't cry　ハートに火をつけろ Girls fall in love　ハートに火をつけろ Boys don't cry　ハートに火をつけろ Girls fall in love　ハートに火をつけろ 　　　　　　　 hāto no hi wo tsukero

　 Summary (and a bit of projection, if you'll indulge me)

As Raijin is the god of thunder, it's he who makes the sounds that people most often hear (and fear) in a storm. Yet the song invokes both gods as a pair and attributes the "resonance" to both. You may not "hear" Fūjin, but as far as Raijin is concerned, the resonance does not exist for only one of them.

As the boys have said now in several interviews, they strongly feel that Sakurai is still very much with them.

I'll stick to lyrics here and leave music theory to someone else, but I will share a thought on the costuming. The dress for the single's cover and for the current banner page of the official website has them in black rags, and, as others have remarked, they literally look as if they've gone to Hell and back.

However, in the music video itself, they sparkle, particularly with silver and sequins. I feel as though the clothes themselves show that they're worn, they mourn, but still they shine.

This song is not here to rival past Buck-Tick songs, so any comment that the sound isn't the same is a non sequitur. And, while I'm sure the management would prefer chart-toppers, the audience is not the masses, but the fans.

This song's message is for you.

Acchan lives. Gods live. And you. You live.

So live, and live well.

Vibrate. Oscillate. Reverberate. Resonate. Let your heart beat. Let your voice cry out. Put one foot in front of the other until your footsteps become clear, until you fall into a march, until you find your parade again.

Don't suffer. Be open to the possibility of feeling joy again. That possibility is in you, because you're human, and it's how humans get by...

...from this world to the next...

...it's how we learn to live again.

We set our hearts on fire ❤️‍🔥

[gh0stly-pages]

Out of Our Minds (Part 5)

Ledger!Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: violence by gunfire and gas, implied deaths/fatal injuries

Words: 5.8k

Chapter Summary: After a long night of plans, you're ready to break your patient out of Arkham Asylum

Notes: Welcome back! sorry for the long wait, life has been pretty busy but here's the next part! Things are really cooking up in this one. Just wanna preface that in this series you are NOT a good guy, you're turning into a villain like Joker, so there will be lots of violence and so if you're uncomfortable with that stuff I advise you not to keep reading! I won't be getting graphic though (and I really hope that I don't have to be the one to remind you that in real life, murder bad) Also this whole chapter includes a plot for breaking out of Arkham that is very farfetched but we're gonna pretend like it makes sense, okay? okay. Enjoy!

Arkham is cloaked in shadows.

The patients are forced into these shadows, pushed there by people desperate to remain in the light. They want to be the light. To show themselves as all things good and pure. They walk around with their chins held high and their shoulders back, clucking like birds. They are bright. Intelligent. Classy. Or so they want to be seen as. What lurks beneath is all darkness.

These people avoided the shadows, and thank goodness for that.

As you lurked in the shadows, preparing for the madness to come, you couldn’t help but smile.

_________________________________________

Your heart is pounding as you approach the two guards outside of Joker’s cell. You’ve managed to move his session to be the last one of the day, and the anticipation has been killing you.

You don’t know how you got here. You don’t mean literally, you know how you got there, walking with shaking legs through security, scared that somehow they would see it in your face. That you were hiding something. They didn’t even question you, waving you along while looking bored. After that, you realized they couldn’t read you at all. They simply didn’t care. So now, you hold yourself with confidence, hoping everything goes just the way you planned.

But getting here, being Joker’s accomplice, that you were still figuring out.

“Hello boys,” you say to the guards, even though they’ve seen you enough times to know the drill. They hand you the little remote, enter the code, and the door unlocks. Not a single word exchanged. You give them your best bitchy smile before walking through the doors. “Thanks.”

There Joker is, his face paint still intact, though smudged. You let out a deep sigh of relief, and while the door closes behind you, you take your seat, not exactly sure where to start. “Mr. J,” is all you can manage to get out.

Joker leans forward, dark eyes glinting. “Yes, sweets?”

You take a deep breath. “Are you ready to break out of Arkham?”

The smile on his face is like none other you’ve ever seen from him. It’s giddy, it’s dangerous, it’s thrilling. God, you love it. “Doll, that, ah, might just be one of the best things I’ve ever heard you say.”

It took you all night to think up a plan, with the little time you had. You knew you had to take advantage of just how little people cared for you, finally it was serving as a positive. You’d racked your brain, setting up a giant piece of paper on your wall and drawing out the layout of Arkham. You’d marked where the guards would be, how they’d move, the security cameras and alarms scattered around the building. It had all looked like a mess at first. A puzzle you wouldn’t be able to put together. Yet the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were thinking too much about how to perfectly escape and not how to rely on your own strengths. Not only could you fly under the radar, but you were light on your feet, had learned a few tips from Joker on weaponry, and the only people who (mostly) respected you in Arkham were your patients. 

You’d not gotten any sleep but it was worth it as you pieced everything together. The main part of your plan did not necessarily involve high level theatrics like J, but Arkham was in for one hell of a ride.

Reaching up into your hair, you pull out a hair pin, reaching over and grabbing Joker’s wrist. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” you say, starting on attempting to unlock the cuffs. Joker’s lesson was somehow still fresh in your mind but it wasn’t an easy task. “I’m going to press the button on my remote that will alert the two guards outside the door to come in. We’ll be standing on either side of the door, and we’ll need to take them both out.” To your surprise, the handcuffs unlock with a small click, and you beam as the cuffs fall away. 

Joker lifts his hand, moving his wrist, which is partially bruised from the cuffs. “And what about the other layers of security?”

“There’s two layers of security. That was the tricky part, but I’ve talked to a few of my patients and they’ve agreed to… start a ruckus as a distraction. As long as most guards are occupied with the patients, the ones out there won’t have backup. We can knock them out easily.”

He smacks his mouth. “It all sounds too easy.”

You move to his other wrist, pushing the hair pin into the cuff. “I know, but it’s not gonna be easy. Things are going to go wrong but we’ve gotta try.” Again, with a bit of a struggle, the cuffs pull open with a satisfying click. You look down at his ankles, grateful that it seems he hasn’t been cuffed there. “You’re free.”

He stands up, stretching himself out, and you watch with earnestness as he groans and cracks his knuckles. “Not just yet, dolly. Got that remote handy?”

You grab the remote from your purse before tossing the purse to the side. You won’t be needing that anymore. “Got it.” As you stare down at the remote, everything hits you way too fast, like a mallet to the chest. Your breathing falters, your heartbeat speeding up with a rapid bump bump bump-. It’s not that you’re scared, not necessarily, but you’re scared that you’ll fail both you and Joker. You’re not J. You don’t know how to do this shit. “I…”

Everything goes blurry and it takes you a second to realize Joker has moved in front of you. He places his hands on your shoulders, bending slightly to look you right in the eye. “You’ve got a sharp mind, dolly. I, ah, know you wouldn’t fail,” he says, an odd reassurance but it works, and you can feel your breathing go a bit steadier. Then you realize how close the Joker is. He’s touching you, no cuffs, no table between you, no barriers. He’s right in front of you, all of him. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Right,” you mumble, straightening yourself. Much to your disappointment, he drops his hands from you, moving towards the door. You suppose it’s now or never. With a shaky breath, you follow after him, moving to the opposite side of the door. Now, the both of you stand on either side, prepared for whatever comes your way. “Ready?” you ask him.

He nods. “Ready, Doc.”

You press the green button.

The both of you press your backs to the wall as you hear the door click open. It’s far too early into the session for you to be leaving, so the guards must know something is wrong. The first guard walks in, the door swinging open so that it blocks the view of J, while you hold your breath to keep quiet. The guard doesn’t notice you, and his mouth drops open as he sees the table empty. He draws his gun, holding it out. “What the fu-“

Springing into action, Joker grabs the guard from behind, picking him up and throwing him across the room. The guard screams, his gun flying away from him as he hits the floor. In one quick swoop, Joker grabs the gun off the floor and jams the butt of it into the guard’s head, just as the other guard runs inside the room, already firing shots. J made it look so easy, but this other guy is your problem. Filled with a sudden adrenaline, you come up behind him, kicking him forward. You’re not the strongest, so he only stumbles, immediately whipping around to try and shoot you. Combat certainly isn’t your strong suit, not yet, but you can move exceptionally well. You sidestep him as he tries to ram the gun into your stomach, and you opt to knee him in the groin. He groans and tries to shoot you again, and you squeal as the bullets pierce the walls. Thank god the room is soundproof otherwise the guards outside would have come running in. From the corner of your eye, you catch Joker watching you. He’s holding the gun. He could shoot the guy easily but he doesn’t. He wants you to take the guard down. 

“Bitch,” the guard mutters, opting to try and throw himself on top of you just for you to dodge him again, lifting your leg and giving him a good knock to the ribs. He cries out, and as he tilts to the side, you give him a good punch to the temple. With a sick pleasure, you watch as he collapses to the floor, eyes wide open, barely breathing. Quickly, you grab his gun, not wanting to take any chances. 

You look up at Joker, who’s smiling as he watches you catch your breath, gripping the gun in your hand. “Impressive, doll. Though, ah, you definitely need to work on your skills.”

“You’re the one who gave me a night to think of this,” you grumble, and he chuckles. “Wasn’t exactly able to take a defense class.”

“I’ll teach ya.”

Suddenly, the room begins to glow red, sirens blaring that make your bones vibrate. You look at him in panic, he looks at you with excitement. Clearly, you both have very different definitions of fun. The sirens aren’t for you though, the Arkham security team doesn’t like to cause commotion for just a single patient causing mayhem. The patients must have started a ruckus, whether it be a riot or starting a fight with one another, you hadn’t gone into the details. You just told them to be distracting. 

You tilt your head towards the door. “Coming?”

“You go first, doll.”

You move ahead, prying the door open. Two more guards stand in the room, talking in hushed whispers beneath the blare of the siren. They don’t even notice you as you hold out the gun, firing into one guard’s shoulder and immediately spinning and shooting the other one in the hand. The guard whose hand you shot drops to the floor, their gun hitting the ground alongside them, and you quickly move forward and kick it. But as you kick the gun, a bullet flies out in front of you, nearly grazing your nose, and you spin around, the guard who you shot on the shoulder aiming his gun right at you. Fuck. You tense as his finger moves to pull the trigger again but before he can move any farther a bullet digs into his side and then one into his chest and he goes limp. 

You turn to see Joker huffing with the gun in his hand still smoking. “Doll, you’ve got a lot to learn. You’re not even-“ He turns and shoots the other guard in the chest “-getting in good shots. You’re leaving yourself vulnerable. Gotta make sure you get em’ where they can’t shoot back.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn’t expect to be this unprepared.

Seeing your expression, Joker falters a bit. “No apologies. I’ve told you, it, uh, doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s just a word.” He comes up to you and nudges you with his shoulder. “C’mon. Last room of guards before we have to run, right?”

“Right.”

“Well then,” he says, pointing to the door with his gun. “You first.”

This time, you don’t want to screw things up. You put the gun behind your back, pulling the door open with your other hand and entering the final room. This room has a security camera in the corner, so you don’t want to go in all guns blazing. You have an idea, and with the gun, gesture for Joker to stay hidden. You hope that’s what your gun waving conveys anyways. Three guards turn to look at you, the ones that greeted you when you first came in, two men and a woman. They’re all masked but you can make out the slight outline of their face beneath the face shield.

The woman runs forward, no gun drawn, leaving it still hanging at her hip. “Miss l/n, what happened?” She tries to crane her neck to see behind you but you’ve inched the door closed enough so she can’t see too much on the other side. “What happened with the nutbag? Are the guards attending to him?” 

You nod rapidly, trying to look like you’re startled. Your acting skills might need some touching up, another thing to work on. “Yes, I- I just wasn’t feeling very comfortable… Felt like I needed to get out of there.”

The woman snorts. “Alright, ma’am. Well, is there anything you need from us? Some other whackos are causing a disturbance.”

“Yes, I, um-“ You pull out your gun. “I need you to step aside and let us through.” You slam the barrel into her stomach, sending her flying backwards, and in one fluid motion you shoot the security camera in the corner and then train your gun on one of the other guards. You can sense Joker step out from behind you, shooting the other guard before he can even lift his own gun. The guard you’ve trained your gun on aims his gun right back at you. “You’re gonna let us go, ain’tcha?” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You have to remain confident. “Or else this bullet is going in your head, right, Mr. J?” you say, looking at Joker. If you’re gonna be a villain to these people, might as well play the part.

Joker nods, mimicking your stance and pointing his gun at the guard. “Whaddya say, doll, what should we do if he, uh, refuses to listen?”

You tighten your finger on the trigger. “I can think of a few things.”

The guard drops his gun, raising his hands in surrender. It sends warmth through your chest. Even if it's sickly satisfying. You feel proud. “Okay, okay,” he blubbers, looking between them both. “Please just don’t kill me, I’ll let you go, please.”

Joker giggles. “How generous, you know, normally I’d use you to get out of this place but I don’t think we need the extra weight.” Joker shoots the man in his left hand, bam, then once in the other, bam. “Looks like you won’t be able to do much! Buh-bye!” The man faints immediately.

Seeing Joker at work, this sinister side of him you’ve only seen on the screen, makes you shiver, and your grip on the gun only tightens, knuckles going white. “The uniform. Take his uniform.”

Joker pouts at you. “Aw, it ain’t even my color.”

“J,” you warn.

“Kiddingggg, doll. Why so serious?” Grabbing the man, Joker strips him of his uniform roughly, getting each piece off before stripping out of his own clothes. Your cheeks turn pink and it all happens so fast before you can even think to turn your head and give him privacy. He pulls his shirt up over his head, chest in full display. The first thing that catches your eyes are all the scars and bruises littering his stomach, pink and jagged, scars you want to trace beneath your fingertips. He’s surprisingly toned, just like his arms. Not muscular exactly, but strong looking. Before you can get a better look, he pulls on the guard’s black undershirt, then fastens on the bulletproof vest. When he catches you staring, he grins. “Enjoying the show?”

You turn your head as he kicks off his pants, though you can still see him in your peripheral, throwing on the black cargo pants the guard had donned. “No,” you lie.

“And, are you, uh, gonna be gracing us with a costume change as well?”

You bite back a smile. “No.”

“Pity.”

When he’s finally done, you turn around just as he puts on the helmet. You don’t like that it’s hiding his face from you but you can still see his scarred smile if you look hard enough. “Lookin’ good, soldier,” you tease, saluting him. 

His lips twist into a smirk. “Lucky I like givin’ orders. Let’s move.”

“Okay, J, for this part, you’ve gotta follow me. I’ll run up ahead and lead you down to where we need to go, you gotta take out anyone you can. Got it?”

“Let’s see if we die or not, shall we?”

“You could try and be positive .”

You open the door, poking your head out to look around, and shit, it’s chaos out there, guards running back and forth, clearly busy with whatever the patients started. You can hear screams, banging, and laughter beneath the sound of the still screeching sirens. The place still glows a flashing red. You point to the right, down a long hallway. “This way!” you shout, running towards a set of doors at the every end of the hall. Arkham is a bit of a labyrinth but you know it well. Down that hallway leads to another hall which leads to more doors which then, finally, leads to the staff wing of Arkham. It’s where the back exit/entrance is. And also where you’ve parked your getaway vehicle. 

You don’t wait for Joker, but you can hear his steps behind you, the combat boots he stole pounding on the floor. Nobody seems to notice either of you at first, or they’re too busy to even give it any mind. You know eventually someone will run past Joker’s conference room and realize he’s not inside. His room empty. All traces of him gone. But you hope you’ve bought at least a bit of time. 

As you run, more guards run past you, and you’re nearly knocked off course as one bumps your shoulder. You keep steady on your feet though. Thank goodness for all those gymnastics lessons. The only time you glance over your shoulder is to make sure Joker is behind you before you push through the doors. Once you see him in all his suited up glory, you carry on through the doors, Joker just a step behind. “To the right again,” you yell. There’s less guards down here, but that means even more likely you’ll be caught. Already, you can see them turn to you, wondering what the hell you’re doing running off with one of the guards close behind. As the two of you run, one of the guards turns their attention to you. “Hey! What are you two doing?” the guard barks, running up in front of you. “The lady has a gun!”

You could probably give them an excuse that you’re running away from the danger but you feel too angry. “Running to safety, dumbass!” you say, using the gun like a hammer and hitting them on the head like a game of whack-a-mole. That was a hell of a lot more fun than shooting a gun. As the guard crumples to the floor, at least five other guards take notice, and you have to quickly jump over the guard’s unmoving body to run as fast as you can through the doors. You can hear gunshots explode all around you, it’s like a miracle you’re not hit, and you can tell which gunshots come from the guards and which from J. But before you know it, every single one of them falls flat on the floor. “Nice one, J,” you say, and he cuts up ahead of you, opening the door for you.

“Ladies first,” he says.  

“So gentlemanly.” You shoot out ahead of him. Now you’re in the staff hallway, lined with doors which leads to locker rooms and places to conduct meetings. At the very end of the hall is the exit. You’d be jumping for joy if it wasn’t for the fact that any second more guards would be chasing after you.

You grab his arm, pulling him down the hall, running faster than you ever have in your entire life. “Exit this way!” you scream through the chaos, heading into the “staff only” area of the building. Looming ahead of you, just down the hall of rooms and lockers, is the staff exit, leading to the back end of Arkham. You look over to Joker. “You ready?”

Joker moves his arm away from you, instead grabbing onto your hand with his own free one. “As I’ll ever be.”

The two of you barrel down the hall, practically slamming into the exit doors, desperately tugging them open. There doesn’t seem to be many people around except for a few guards lining the outside, and Joker moves to take care of them as you yank him towards your car. Well, your stolen car. You weren’t gonna risk coming in your own vehicle. “Here,” you say, pointing to a black car in front of you. Letting go of J’s hand, you stuff yourself into the driver's seat, and Joker shoots at another guard before cramming himself into the passenger seat. “Drive,” he yells, and you grab the keys from your pocket, turn them in the key hole, and slam on the pedal. He throws off his mask, tossing it in the back seat. “Faster!”

As you get to driving, you remember the final bits of your plan. The part you’re most proud of. “Hey, J, wanna hear what other distraction I planned?” you yell over the roar of the engine, as you swerve around the parking lot.

“Whaddisit?”

“Gas! The same kind they might have used on you. Rigged it all up on my own. The patients should be all rounded up in their cells by now and the guards? They’re getting knocked out cold!”

You have to focus, but you turn towards Joker, your heart swelling in your chest when he looks impressed. His eyes are wide as he pulls down the window and looks back at Arkham as you pump it straight out of the parking lot, taking down the small security gate. In your rear view mirror, you can see green explosions of gas within the windows. If all worked well, only the guards should be getting knocked out about now, leaving no one to come after you. Police will be on their way, but that at least gives you a bit more time and them a distraction. Plus, they aren’t sure what they’re looking for, no clue what car or who helped Joker escape, not until they can wake the guards.

Now, you realize, you can’t just go back to your apartment. It’s too risky. You look at J as you slow the car, trying to blend in with the rest of Gotham traffic. You failed to plan this far. “J, I don’t know where to go now.”

“I do,” he says, leaning over, making sure not to put too much weight on you or crush you as he takes hold of the wheel. “Just pump the gas, doll, I’ll get us somewhere safe.”

It sounds like a horrible idea, but you nod. You’d make it work. “Okay,” you say, and as the light turns green, you hit the gas. It’s scary as hell just controlling the gas, letting Joker swerve you both around, but you trust him. Ha, funny. You trust the Joker. He drives you towards the outer parts of Gotham, and as you enter a rather dingy residential street, he moves the car off the road. “Park it here,” he says, and you obey, pressing the brake and shifting the car into park. 

“Why here?”

“I’ve got a spot around here.”

“You have an apartment?”

He snorts. “No, I’ve got a, uh, hideout spot in one of the abandoned warehouses at the outskirts of Gotham. And it wouldn’t be very wise to park right outside the entrance.” 

Smart, you hadn’t thought of that. Clearly you lack experience in this realm. You grab the keys and throw open the door, Joker doing the same, and the two of you begin walking on the sidewalk, Joker taking the lead. Darkness has already set over the city, and the two of you walk beneath the light of dim street lamps. It’s cold out, and your white coat isn’t exactly meant to keep you warm, so you hug yourself to try and keep away the chill. “Is it very far?” you ask, and you realize this is the first quiet time you both have had together since escaping. You’ve been too anxious over escaping to even think about everything that’s happened. To think of how the Joker is right next to you, taking you to one of his many hideaways. 

Joker shakes his head. “Not too far, doll.”

Silence settles upon you both, the two of you far too preoccupied with getting to the warehouse to say much of anything else.

As you walk, the blare of sirens starts up in the distance, and when you turn behind you, you can see police lights in the distance. You’re positive they’re not for you, not yet, but if they even caught a glimpse of the Joker, the two of you would be over. Joker knew this too, clearly, grabbing your arm and picking up his pace, practically dragging you as he began to run. Everything is a blur as the two of you fly through the streets. Even though you’re not bad at running, after a few twists and turns, your legs start to hurt, your chest feeling heavy. But Joker doesn’t stop, probably used to running from lord knows what. Before you can register anything, you’re climbing over gates and Joker pushes open the large doors of the abandoned warehouse, pulling you in and up a crumbling flight of stairs until you reach the second floor.

Finally, Joker and you stop moving, taking time to catch your breath. Fuck, everything hurts.

You gasp, throwing yourself against the concrete wall of the warehouse, sliding down until your butt hits the floor. Your chest moves rapidly up and down as you try to catch your breath. Joker crouches in front of you. “Breathe, just breathe, good girl.” He holds out his arms. “C’mere.”

Immediately, you lean forward and throw your arms around him, going limp. He stands up, taking you with him, your legs dragging lifelessly on the floor until only the tips of your toes touch the concrete. You bury your face into his shoulder, and for a second everything feels right. Finally, a quiet moment, and everything crashes down on you, every decision you’ve made. It takes a second for you to process that you’re hugging the Joker, and he’s letting you hug him back. This man, this villain you’d become infatuated with, was holding you close. You’ve imagined something like this before, even when you didn’t want to, but this is better than any of that. “We did it,” you mumble into his guard shirt, which smells like rust and gunsmoke. “We escaped.”

“You did it,” he says, and when you finally pull back to look at him, he’s smiling at you. He gently settles you back on to the floor. “They’re going to come looking for us though. We’ll need to lay low for the moment.”

“In here?” It’s strange to be so close, your arms still wrapped around his neck. “This where you usually stay?”

“I stay all over.”

“Very spacious,” you say, moving your head to look around. “Where do you sleep though? On the hard floor?”

“Chaos doesn’t sleep, darling.”

“No, but people sure do.” You tug gently on one of his locks of hair and he growls. “You need sleep.”

“Can’t sleep now. Not when we’re being pursued.” He wrinkles his nose. “This your first time being a wanted criminal?”

“Duh.”

“I really can’t believe you did it, doll. Made up a whole plan and everything and got me out of Arkham.” Much to your dismay, he moves away from you, walking to some other part of the building. You hesitantly follow after him. “We can camp out here for the night but then we’ll have to move.” In a secluded corner of the room, a moth-eaten curtain hangs from the ceiling, concealing that whole part of the room. Joker takes the curtain in his hand, then looks at you. “Course, we can’t exactly fend for ourselves without weapons, can we?”

Yanking back the curtain, on the other side is a wall full of all sorts of weapons. Guns, knives, even TNT. There’s crates full of clothes, Joker’s clothes, you assume. Some clown masks. All sorts of tools for mischief. You look at it all like a child in a candy store. “J, this is amazing. Isn’t it kind of risky keeping it locked up in here though?”

“I’ve got some goons guarding it. And nobody in Gotham comes in here anymore, I’ve made sure of it.” He shrugs. “If anyone were to find it, let em’ take it, I’d just get duplicates and use them all on the thief.”

You move forward to get a better look at everything as Joker drifts behind you. It should be scary just how much violence is here at his fingertips but know it just makes you swell inside.

“So, how about it, doll? Pick your poison,” Joker says, holding your shoulders from behind. You look over all your options. The guns weren’t exactly your style, you were better at hitting people with them than you were at shooting them. The blades looked nice, and you’d like to learn to use them, but they could only do so much. Something that did catch your eye, sticking out from the other weapons, was a mallet in the corner. It was a tad comically large, definitely not the regular kind you’d see on a construction site. You move forward, Joker moving with you, and grab the handle. 

“Whaddya have this one for?” you ask.

“Uhhhh, to kill people with?”

You glare at his snarky response, though you’re still smiling. “I figured that much. Where’d you get it from though?”

“Amusement Mile.” The old, abandoned theme park towards the other end of Gotham. It’s been shut down ever since you were a child, but you remember your parents driving past it. Seeing a place that must have been so exciting and colorful look so dark and decrepit was chilling. “Found it at one of those old high striker games. Adjusted it a bit.”

Lifting it, you test the weight. It’s definitely heavy, but the weight is distributed evenly, making it easy to maneuver. You give it a quick swing, the whoosh of the mallet like music to your ears. This was what you needed. Sturdy, not too hard to wield, and perfect to pair with your swiftness. “I want this one.”

“Gonna play a game of whack-a-bat with that one?” He maneuvers in front of you, grabbing the handle of the mallet before you could give it another swing. “You can take that one. But you need a gun too. The mallets they’re, uh, too big to get around places sometimes.”

You look back at the wall and point at a small silver gun. “I’ll take that one too.”

He grins. “Are you sure you’re, ah, ready to cause some damage?”

You drop the mallet. “I’ve been ready.” All your life you’ve been pushed to the side. No, pushed to the ground. You were ready to hurt some people back. To make skyscrapers crumble and leaders fall. This anger inside you boils, and you can feel your grip tighten on the handle, envisioning every person who has wronged you.

Joker’s laugh pulls you back to reality, stepping up closer in front of you. “Calm down there, lovely. They call me the Harlequin of Hate but I think that title better suits you,” he says, cupping your chin. “My little Harlequin, partner to the Clown Prince of Crime.”

————————-

That night, you’re stuck sleeping on a mattress on the floor. 

You flop down on your back, the mattress not the comfiest thing you’ve ever slept on but it works. There’s no blanket, so no way of keeping warm, and you try and shift around to find a comfortable position. Joker sits on the edge of the mattress, his knees tucked up to his chest, and it’s such an odd sight to see him so regular that you laugh. His head jerks to look at you. “Admirin’ the view?”

“Maybe,” you say, smiling as you lay on your side. “It’s just weird to see you here. Not in Arkham or fighting B-Man.”

He hums. “It ain’t everyday I bring people around ere’. At least, not like this.”

“Lucky me, huh?”

“You realize you’re in this forever now, right? There’s, uh, no goin’ back from here.”

The weight of it settles on you. “I know... I wouldn’t have gone along if I didn’t know that.”

“Well, if you wanted to go, you could go now. You could walk free, tell the cops I threatened you and made you do all this.” He looks down at his feet. “I, ah, won’t stop you.”

You’re surprised to find your eyes watering. Joker, this menace, a force to be reckoned with, was giving you the option to leave. He could be fooling you, of course, but you could tell from the way the words escaped him awkwardly, uncomfortably tender, that he meant every bit of it. He’d let you go, you could continue your regular life, maybe find a better job. But that wasn’t the point of why you freed him. You wanted to escape too, to show Gotham how corrupt it was, and you wouldn’t do that without J. “I’m not walking away,” you say back.

“You’re insane, ya know that?”

“I know.” You stare at one another in silence. Finally, you yawn. “Are you… are you gonna come to bed?” You’re not sure exactly what’s going on between you and Joker. You like him, you know that much, but how much exactly does he like you? Enough to keep you around, obviously. But to what extent did he want you around? Did he want not just your loyalty but also your affections? You were ready to give affection, but was he? 

Joker shakes his head, and you feel yourself grow disappointed. “You go on, doll. I, uh, gotta keep watch.”

“Mr. J-“

“I like it when you call me that.”

“-You’ve gotta get some sleep. You’re gonna pass out without it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbles. “Don’t ya get your pretty little head worried over it.”

“You’re an ass.”

Your anger only makes him smile. “If you’re so, ah, worried, then just wake up early and I’ll drift off for a bit.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’ll do,” you say, flipping over, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you ticked off. You’re not actually upset, you just wished Joker prioritized himself a bit more. That was something to deal with another day. “Goodnight, J.”

“Night, darlin’.”

That night you dream of Gotham in flames. You dream of chaos. You dream of him.

Taglist:

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey / @ilovetoomanymen / @amazingzou/ @ronniesweetkisser / @emberhatesthemoon

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[deanmarywinchester]

okay too-earnest longpost about erotica below the cut. everyone look away

this has definitely been said before i just needed to articulate my thoughts on it but. the operative fantasy of a huge percentage of explicit fic isn’t falling in love, or specific kinks, it’s “a novel sexual experience, that I don’t have to negotiate or ask for, that completely turns my brain off (and kinks on/undoes my deep-seated psychological issues) in a way I didn’t previously know I needed.” from my limited experience with romance novels there’s some overlap but some stuff here feels specific to fic. and obviously this is a huge generalization, caveat that it applies /in general/ to the more popular fics in the mostly-genre fiction fandoms ive been part of in the last ten years, etc etc. Okay.

there’s a lot I could raise as examples here but one is this specific ofmd fic (for all ofmd created one of the most embarrassing fandoms ever it also brought some of the most talented and deranged fic writers out of the woodwork). in it, Izzy Hands, mr. pain kink dogmotif himself, stops pining for his boss Ed to care about him long enough to have mindbogglingly unsafe sex with a certain pirate from a different tv show, which makes ed crazy enough to give izzy what he actually wanted. and I have no actionable desire to be kept at knifepoint and bitten bloody but this fic is still blisteringly hot because 1) it’s a fantasy of someone immediately and unspokenly clocking what gets you off (in a way nobody, maybe even you, has before) and 2) it gets at izzy’s issues re: nobody liking him enough to claim him and the fact that he desires pain as a proxy for that kind of claiming

and I feel like this is why the “it was nothing like kissing a woman—women were Soft and Feminine while kissing Guy McMan was like Sandpaper and Whiskey” thing that we all make fun of now was an extant trope — it’s the misogyny, yes, but it’s also the novelty, the “i never knew I wanted this before but knowing that I want it has fixed me.” as a supernatural fandom scholar I can use the fandom popularity of rhonda hurley’s, uh, contribution to dean winchester’s psyche as another example here. and as a throuple scholar this is also the power behind leverage’s Hardison/Parker/for-the-first-time Eliot fic, and challengers “any two of us are at each others’ throats but add the third and for the first time I feel completely understood” fic. novelty! someone knowing you in a way you don’t have to ask for or explain to them! with your dick out!

and the second part of the phrase, “a novel sexual experience that kinks on/undoes your psychological issues” is also a big part of the fantasy, like. this is why it’s fun for people to start a new piece of media and point a “praise kink” beam at the guy who’s never felt good enough, or hit characters who grew up under oppressive institutional authority with hammers the cat o’nine tails.

and marinating in this soup does funny things to your sexual development. as a longtime fic reader you might not end up with a forcefem kink but instead a “watching The Character realizing they have a forcefem kink” kink. I don’t have a thing for pain, I have a thing for “being in someone else’s brain as they experience pain as sexual for the first time and get an endorphin high.” much different disorders that can come from getting your sex ed from worse places than extremely online writers but disorders nonetheless

[rafyki]

Episode 11 really showed Jack's growth

Okay, I know what you're gonna say: "but he lashed out at Joke! He threw him away again! He got so angry!". And like- yes he lashed out, yes he didn't stop to think, yes he got extremely angry. But that literally happened in the first ten minutes of the episode, alright? There's more than a hour after that, so please let's focus on everything else that happened too, and the fact that Jack acting like that literally only lasts for a short while (as I already said, everything happens extremely fast in this episode, if you really think about it he only stays made for less than a day, which is a perfectly valid period of time to need to sort through complicated feelings - hell, it's an incredibly short time, Jack got over himself extremely quickly).

Anyway, lemme go in order, because I'm not just talking about his relationship with Joke here, but about everything else too.

There are two main things about Jack's character arc (well, more than two, but I wanna focus on these ones now): first, his tendency to hold grudges and be hard on forgiveness and, second, the fact that he never stands up to power and powerful people in an active way (I'll explain better what I mean later).

As for the first, I made a whole other post about it, so I'm not gonna repeat everything again, but let's see how in this episode he got to the end of his growth in this aspect.

He's extremely mad at the start of the episode (rightfully so), so much that he goes on a rampage (we love to see it, tbh), even though he should know that it wouldn't end well.

When he wakes up, he's still mad - of course he is, he didn't have time to think and process everything yet, given that he was beaten unconscious until now. He gets mad at Grandma when she mentions Joke, and then he lashes out at Save and Hope. It's understandable.

But then? Then it only takes Hope saying this for him to calm down and put things into perspective

I think it's important to point out that here it's only been maybe a few hours since the hospital scene. And here, Jack finally has time to think.

This it when he finally stops and thinks and realizes that he was wrong, that he didn't have any right to be mad at Save or Hope (or, well, he does, but how should also be able to understand their positions, because he's been there too), because they're all in the same situation in the end; and he realizes that Joke only did what he did for him. This is the moment when he finally has time to think and realize he was wrong (both about Save and about Joke), realize that he doesn't want to lose Joke, that he misses him.

Let's not forget that the start of Jack's character growth was to learn to forgive. And here, he shows that he's finally able to do this.

He works together with Save and Hope, he trusts them. Why didn't he call Joke to join them then? Well, I think he probably wanted things to calm down first so that after that he would have the time to actually talk to Joke. He didn't have the time to do that in the end, and that's the tragic thing.

But we know that's what he planned to do, because that's exaclty what he says.

Anyway, let's move on or this will become way too long lmao

It's not only in terms of learning to forgive that Jack grew. It's also in the way he finally decides to actively act to oppose Boss.

I mean, Jack was caught in Boss' web of power since he was young, and he's had to deal with the fact that he couldn't escape it, couldn't defeat it, for years. And so, he always submitted to Boss, in a way.

Yes, when he was a debt collector he went against him, in secret (and sacrificing himself and his own money), until Boss found out and Jack had to bow his head againt before him. When Gradma was in the hospital, he let himself in Boss' grasp again and even when Joke and Grandma slapped some sense into him his way to oppose Boss was to simply tell him he didn't want to marry Rose anymore, but was still willing to work for him; now, we know that that only worked because Joke had stolen the ring. What would have happened if Joke hadn't done that? Boss would have refused, of course, and Jack would have had bowed his head again.

Until now, Jack's actions were often passive, a result of him having no choice. Even when he played the ladder game against Lompran, that wasn't a real choice.

Not now, though. In this episode, Jack finally realizes that he can't keep doing it, that he needs to fight back for real. And this is the first time that Jack realizes that he can't always do the morally correct thing if he wants to defeat people like Boss.

Jack has always had really solid morals, and he's always lived by the fact that he needs to be better - better than the corrupted people in power who use them and look down on them. And that means he can't accept theft as a valid way to fix things, even if it would be justifiable and it would make things easier. But he can't do that, because that would mean that he's just as bad as them. Poor people are always expected to do the right thing.

Until now. Because now Jack has finally realized that he can't play it fair against people like them, he understood how that world works, and he realized that he needs to play following their game's rules.

He's learned the power game's rules and he's ready to play.

And that's what he does. He's able to take advantage of Lompran's greed and use it for his own ends, and he's not afraid of risking his own or Save's life - because he knows at this point that they can't play it safe anymore.

He played the game but he also kept his morals, because he still didn't do it for himself; he played their game but he's still better than them

Jack has mostly been a passive force until now, but in this episode he's finally the active force - he's the one with the plan, the one who takes the lead. (Joke, on the other had, has always been the active force of the show, and in this episode he's the passive one, but I'll make another post about this another day)

And I think this will be obvious in next episode too, when he'll (finally!) get a gun and do everything that's needed to save Joke and everyone else from Boss.

And he finally understood that the world isn't black and white and that sometime you need to do something "bad" to fight back, both for youself and for others. And that that doesn't mean you're a bad person.

[nebulousbrainsoup]

[23:17]

SUMMARY: San has been stuck. Maybe it's time to let go. PAIRING: Choi San x gn!reader GENRE: angst angst angst AU/TROPE: nonidol au, exes WORD COUNT: 907 TAGS/WARNINGS: not beta read RATING: G A/N: back at it again, using fanfic to cope. also, thought a little timestamp might be a good way to get me back into writing for ateez. shout out yappers [ @justhere4kpop, @cheolism, @kwanisms, @yoonguurt ] for helping me craft this.

The diner still looked the same. The barstool San settled on still had a tear in the vinyl straight down the center, and it still jolted under his weight, tilting a bit to the right. He still had to squirm until it clicked back into place, and even then he spun away from the counter without his leg as a brace. The same mismatched coffee mugs, donated by local businesses for advertising, were still stacked up on the shelf in front of him, and the waitress still grabbed the third one from the left—this time, something from an insurance agent whose name had long been rubbed away—and filled it in the same movement.

She didn’t reach for the next mug from the left anymore. That had changed.

Everything else remained the same. 

San still ordered a slice of apple pie, warmed up, à la mode, while he doctored his coffee with a little creamer cup and a packet of sugar. He still held his steaming mug in both hands, clutching it close to stave off the winter chill that had followed him. He still made small talk with the waitress before she sauntered back to the kitchen to fill his order, and his eyes still drifted over to the windows, watching as the snow fell lazily. The lights still reflected back at him in the glass, the one in the back corner, just above the kitchen door, flickering every few seconds.  

Silence fell over him, no one peering out from behind him in the reflection to prompt him with a question or lean over and show him a new cat video. That had changed. 

So little had changed, but so much had changed. San closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, held it, and exhaled shakily. 

The waitress still spoke the same chipper greeting as she set his food in front of him, but her smile these days was just a little melancholy. He still savored his treat, balancing each bite between the pie and the ice cream and making sure not to wash the taste away too quickly with his sips of coffee, but when he finished and looked at the clock, only fifteen minutes had passed, and he hadn’t needed a refill of his mug. He still went up to the same cash register to pay, but now, his bill was half the price it should have been. The long brown coat was the same one as last winter, and he pulled it tight around himself in the same fashion he always did as he stepped into the night, but it felt stuffier with the fleece scarf around his neck, too.

Last winter, it would have been around yours. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, where he’d gone wrong. One morning, he’d woken up beside you, pouring his love into every soft kiss he planted on your lips. You looked at him like he’d hung the stars. The next, his bed had been cold, and when he’d found you staring out the balcony window at the winter’s first snow, you’d slipped away from the wrap of his arms around your waist.

“Jagiya?” 

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

The breath left him like he was still in the room, still staring at you, still stunned and floundering for the words to beg you to stay. San inhaled sharply, the chill air filling his lungs bringing him back to his senses, and kept walking. He wasn’t sure when he had stopped.

He’d spent a few hours angry. At you, at the world… At himself, for whatever it was he’d done to make you leave him. It faded quickly, leaving a simmering hurt behind, sadness mixing with confusion. It had been so sudden, and even in the minutes you’d spent gathering your things, you hadn’t bothered to spare him an explanation.

His search for one had been entirely fruitless. Texts went unanswered, calls rang through, and after the first time that little red exclamation point taunted him, telling him his message could not be delivered, he gave up. The anger came back for a split second, of course, but most of what he’d felt was a sense of defeat and a fresh wave of sadness. He would never have an answer, would never know why. 

He still wondered, of course. On nights like tonight that were a little too quiet, a little too cold, a little too dark, he wondered. Without you, everything was still the same. His coffee tasted just as bitter, his pie just as sweet. Snow still fell and lights still flickered and the world still turned. He was still the same man, still had the same cat you’d loved so much, laughed at the jokes you’d fall over onto him to and worked at the same dead-end job you cheered him on through. He had not changed, nor had the world, but it seemed so much dimmer without you beside him.

Joyous laughter contrasted the sorrowful sigh he released as the bus doors opened. He stood just to the side, let the people filter off—and barely caught you in his arms as you stumbled down the slick steps and nearly fell into the snow. You still looked the same. The snow still fell, the wind still chilled him, and the bus doors began to close.

San smiled as you righted yourself, a joyless thing, and let you go.

© September 2024 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. reposting and translating of author’s work is prohibited.

[freeuselandonorris]

hi! i've been thinking about this for some time; when did you realise that lando and oscar had potential as a pairing? like is there a specific video/moment that got you thinking 'ooh that's a very interesting dynamic/there's something more behind this stare/gesture etc etc' and that eventually led you to write rpf of them (for which i'm very grateful 🙏🏻). i think mine has to be the finish the lyrics video with oscar looking at lando while licking/biting his lips (at 3:56) and i was kinda flabbergasted bc even though i had been following the sport and the extra content for a while and also knew that ppl shipped charles and max and such i wasn't really aware of the possibilities this sport presented. and this video kinda led me down a rabbit hole of searching for fics on ao3 etc... so yeah i was curious to know what was your starting point with landoscar!

also, somewhat related but what's the video/picture of them that feels the most intimate to you? in a 'i shouldn't be seeing this' way. the behind the scenes video of the opening credits for the 2024 season and stuff (at 2:18 ) is the first thing that comes to mind, with their little convo that feels so normal and laid-back and yeah, intimate. + the thing lando does with his fingers while looking oscar dead in the eye got me blushing. maybe it's because of the hushed tone, the fond looks and the smiles they exchange, the small talk etc but hhh idk i love this vid so much. also the fact that oscar is the only one who goes to see his teammate getting ready? anyways. i could also list the countless pictures of oscar looking at lando like he hung all of the stars in the sky but i won't bc this ask is already long enough!

hope you have a lovely day/afternoon/evening depending on the time it is when you're reading this!

helloooo!! ahh this is such a cute q and a nice excuse to go back through my mctwinks tag thank you 🥰

so i’ve been watching F1 and reading fic for it for 47292 years now and i read a bit of dando when they were teammates (and an even smaller bit of carlando but i am very meh about carlos) so i was like. aware of lando as an rpf concept but didn’t really get super into him?

thennn i read a few oscarmark fics around the time he joined mclaren, and a few months after that i also saw the two extremely camp lando moments that are red flag green flag and whatever the hell was going on with that baseball guy. at which point i caught brain rot and demanded that @scenetocause do a roundup of landoscar fics for me.

(this moment literally had me googling 'is lando norris bisexual')

i do think though that the moment that made me really get obsessed with them and want to write as much as possible for them (and definitely the catalyst for starting mondayverse!) was also finish the lyrics! the ‘love story’ bit in particular really had me like. going full galaxy brain about them. it just really sums up their dynamic to me, lando being a bit of a show-off because he's revelling in oscar's attention and oscar happy to give it to him and also kind of shyly being nudged into performing a bit too. wauuuh.

and YESSSS the little smoothie moment!!! god. that was also my first thought for most intimate moment between them both, the way they match each other’s vocal cadences and the whole conversation has that sweet air of a series of in-jokes (“this is what we LIVE for!”) just makes me feel sooo warm and fuzzy about them. it's intimate in the sweetest, softest, most mundane sense of the word. also lando fingerbangs a table and that should not be overlooked.

runner up moment goes to this tiny moment from lando that i love so much, in the season wrap-up video last year where he makes this sweet little heart gesture and his face lights up when oscar compliments him. makes me melt every time.

thanks anon this was v enjoyable to think about even though my answers don’t differ from yours very much! hope you’re having a lovely day too 💕