#but they all have the ability to get REALLY bad

[nuwildcat]

Okay, so hopefully you don't mind this, but this drawing absolutely refused to leave me alone since I've seen it and the writing gods demanded a sacrifice in it's honor.

~~~~~~

Jayce has only a basic understanding of undercity politics; even then, he knows this is a bad idea. 

He’s been coming down here for parts for over a year now. Which means he knows all the best places. Benzo’s is reliable. Good parts for a good price. [name]’s got interesting stuff, the issue is the quality is shit. It’s just as likely to break as it is to work. But there’s one place you only go if you’re really desperate. And Jayce is desperate. 

The Machine Herald’s. 

The name is odd, but from what Jayce has heard, if you need something unique, you’ll find it there. The issue is, what price will you pay for it? Because the owner is one of Silco’s. 

Even with his limited knowledge, Jayce knows you don’t fuck with Silco’s people. But again, he’s desperate.

If he can get this last part, he’ll finally have something to share that even Heimerdinger can’t dismiss for Progress Day. 

So he’s taking the risk — crossing the line you don’t cross as an outsider, and entering Zaun. 

Ever since the weird and antagonistic truce between Vander and Silco was struck, there’s been a divide in the lanes. On one side, Vander’s people. The other, the self-proclaimed Zaunites led by Silco. There’s literally a fucking line in the middle of the square demarcating whose land is whose. 

Jayce’s whole body tenses for an attack as soon as he’s stepped across it. Miraculously, his luck holds and nothing happens. 

Peering at the little map Ekko has drawn for him, Jayce frowns and turns left down an alley. 

Ekko had called him a crazy piltie with sludge for brains when he’d asked for directions to the Machine Herald’s, but Ekko is like twelve, so most of what he says is insults.  

The building is pretty nondescript. Jayce almost walks past it, but a cog mounted over the door catches his eye. It’s been welded into its shape by combining many other smaller items, wrenches, pipes, and what looks like a set of keys.

Jayce stares up at it over the open door, trying to pick apart everything in the cog.

“You look lost pretty boy.”

Jayce jumps, too focused on the art, he missed that a man appeared in the doorway. The stranger leans nonchalantly on the door jamb, shooting Jayce an almost mocking look as the pipe dangling from his fingers slowly lets off swirls of pinkish smoke.

He’s startlingly pretty.

The combination of half-skirt, corset, and unbuttoned shirt is clearly meant to draw the eye, and draw it does. Jayce scans the man, struggling to put his finger on what it is about the man that’s so striking.

A quirked brow reminds Jayce he’s yet to say anything.

“I—uh. I’m looking for a—a part?”

The man smirks, his face only getting more attractive, which is doing nothing for Jayce’s ability to string a sentence together.

“I should hope so,” the man replies. “Otherwise you’d need to head elsewhere.” There’s a unique accent to the man’s soft voice, slightly raspy from the smoking.

Jayce chuckles, and steps closer to the shop. “I’m Jayce,” he says, holding out his hand.

The man stares at him, eyes flicking down to his outstretched hand and back up to his face, amusement growing stronger.

“Viktor,” he says, passing the pipe to his other hand before shaking Jayce’s hand. “How can I help you, Jayce?”

Jayce takes a deep breath and dives right into explaining what he’s looking for. As he talks, the other man gives him a bewildered look before a glint enters his eyes, and Jayce can tell he has Viktor’s full attention.

What follows is a three-hour discussion about mechanics that robs Jayce of half his monthly stipend, but sends him home with no less than four different parts he hasn’t been able to find anywhere else.

Viktor sees him off, once again leaning casually in the doorway with a smirk firmly in place. He’s likely overcharged Jayce for everything, but Jayce is so pleased he doesn’t even mind.

“Make sure to hurry back, pretty boy,” Viktor calls to him as Jayce walks away.

Looking back, Jayce shakes his head at the other man and shoots him a wink. He’s whistling as he makes his way back out of Zaun and the lanes. Today, was a very good day.

_______________

Jayce goes back. 

It’s dumb. So very, very dumb, but he does it anyway. They’d talked for hours that first time, Viktor able to not only understand his designs but to make them better. 

Not even Heimerdinger’s done that. 

It doesn’t hurt that Viktor is one of the most beautiful people Jayce has ever seen. And he’s dated Mel Medarda. He knows beautiful. 

There’s something special about Viktor. Fragility paired with a cocky confidence that makes warmth spark to life in Jayce’s belly when he sees the other man. 

It’s all rather new for Jayce. He’s feeling out of his depth. Especially with the way that Viktor has draped himself over Jayce after shoving him unceremoniously on the couch. Legs tossed over Jayce’s, Viktor is sprawled back on the arm, ever-present pipe dangling from his fingers. 

“What’s that for?” Jayce asks before he’s thought the question through. 

Viktor pauses, holding in the hit he’s just taken before letting it spill from his lips, pink-tinted and smoky. 

“It helps with the pain.”

Jayce eyes drift to the brace partially hidden by Viktor’s skirt. He’s only been able to catch glimpses and his curiosity is gnawing at him to see more. 

Viktor stretches, knocking the skirt to the side and putting the brace and himself on display. 

“See something you like, topsider?”

Jayce ignores the taunt, peering closer at the brace. “Did you make this?”

Viktor loses some of his bravado in the face of Jayce’s admiration. 

“I did.”

It’s a gorgeous piece of engineering, and the forge master in Jayce wants a better look. 

“May I?” He asks, fingers hovering over Viktor’s leg. 

This time there’s no false bravado. Viktor nods and watches him like a hawk. 

Gently, Jayce lifts the leg, turning it a bit to see how the various parts of the brace move. Viktor doesn’t fight him, relaxed and loose in his grasp. The brace is a seamless creation. Jayce is highly impressed, so he says so. 

“It’s beautiful.”

Viktor lets out a noise that makes Jayce turn from the brace despite how much he wants to study it. A Cheshire grin has spread on the other man’s face, and there’s a glint in his eyes that speaks of danger. 

“Jayce Talis. Are you flirting with me?”

Jayce freezes, not sure he could cobble together a response even if he could get his tongue working with Viktor looking at him like that. 

One moment Viktor’s sprawled like a satisfied house cat, the next he’s straddling Jayce, arms draped over Jayce’s shoulders. 

“You like?” he purrs. 

Jayce’s brain has stopped working. He’s pretty sure for a second there be blacked out, because now his hands are holding Viktor’s waist, gripping the corset that must act as a second brace. 

Oh fuck. Jayce stares, unable to get what he’s seeing to make sense. His hands—his hands almost span Viktor’s tiny waist. 

For a moment, there’s just static in his brain and then something clicks. His brain lights up, and he squeezes. 

“Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Still staring. 

Viktor chuckles breathily, his finger threading through Jayce’s hair and then pulling, yanking Jayce’s head back. Jayce grunts, tingles racing down his spine as heat pools in his belly.

“Careful pretty boy,” Viktor whispers, leaning down so that Jayce’s eyes cross as he tries to watch Viktor’s lips. “You’re playing with fire.”

Jayce is pretty sure he’d like to be burned.

“You look like you don’t have a clue what to do,” Viktor murmurs, lashes dipping prettily.

“I mean, technically?” Jayce blurts out. Viktor pulls back, looking down at him confused. Jayce shrugs. “Inexperienced? No. This particular situation? Also no.”

Viktor cocks his head in confusion, eyeing Jayce like he’s a specimen Viktor means to study. Again that wicked smile spreads and Jayce’s heart thumps in excitement.

Leaning down so his breath ghosts over Jayce’s lips, Viktor says, “Whoever let you wander down here should have known better.”

Jayce’s mouth drops open, anticipation and want bubbling up inside him. Just a little closer.

“Piltover’s loss,” Viktor whispers. Then he kisses Jayce.

Zaun vik and Jayce

[chongoblog]

THINGS THAT HAPPEN IN STEEL BALL RUN WITHOUT CONTEXT

The President of the United States wants the corpse of Jesus Christ

A Native American enters a horserace across the country on foot. He wins the first stretch

Man in his 50s marries teenager (Trust me, this is the preferable option here)

Scratch fleas off your horse to attack your opponent with dinosaurs

The president's wife is very bisexual

One character is basically a walking joke about a J-Pop song. The battle itself is a game of Battleship.

Jesus tells the main character to shoot himself (it works)

Lucy Steel and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day

Balloon animals are scary

A horse drawing on the wall will heal your wounds

You can kill the President as many times as you want, but you have to get kicked by a horse if you want it to stick

What do smoke, water, and bees all have in common? They're all bombs

A crossdressing nun will heal you with a flesh spray can

Curse of Be Stuck In Philadelphia Forever

Georgia Man wins thanks to the special ability of some dude on his shoulder cheering him on

Bug bite fetishes are discussed

There are three Italians and two of them are great with their balls

Wekapipo's ability is to take away everything that's left

The climax simultaneously takes place in New Jersey, Philadelphia, and in the Atlantic Ocean

A British jockey is killed because a girl gives him head.

President's escape plan includes getting run over by a train

Risking the penalties of copyright is a filthy act that costs an unreasonable price

In a world where walking in the desert can give you superpowers, one guy who walked in the desert came back from the dead and can keep bugs in his body for completely unrelated reasons

The character with the least heterosexual cowboy hat ever seen has the ability to make kinky sex INCREDIBLY interesting

Sometimes a family is just 11 people who look exactly the same all coming to kill you

One character died because it stopped raining

The president's name is Funny Valentine

One of the bad guys was a Confederate soldier who was so bad at his job, he could be considered a notable contribution to the Union's victory.

Three people shoot the protagonist at the same time. Kind of. I mean, hold on, let me just-

One of the characters who helped kick off the events of the story in the previous universe is reincarnated as a fortune teller whose only contribution is to tell someone that he's really lucky.

Ringo Roadagain

Ringo Roadagain

Ringo Roadagain

Ringo Roadagain

Pork Pie Hat Kid

[searchingforserendipity25]

exorcising my list of unwritten conclave concepts from a few weeks ago i haven't written much since, in case the list is all there ends up coming out of it or anyone wants to welcome any of them into a good home:

cardinal lawrence and sister agnes won each other’s respect and trust during ratzinger’s papacy (liberals who leak church scandals to the justice system and the press stick together). everyone lowkey thinks they are having an affair. they are not, but they do keep sneaking into corners to gossip during the conclave. leaning fully into the reading of sister agnes as the late pope’s intelligence expert. incredibly jaded vatican spy. aldo is not jealous. benitez finds lawrence with the yellow canary eating from his hand and going back to his side after short flights, and has a number of franciscan emotions about it. the whole thing would ideally be about their friendship, different views and thoughts on power, what it looks like, what it ought to look like. responsibility, and doubt. also: how horrible it is the only non smokers in an european workplace.

(does this change anything materially? possibly the adeyemi and trembley situation is revealed much sooner with lawrence and sister agnes working together earlier and sharing intel, which in its turn makes him seem more competent and aggressive in taking down competitors, ergo more votes, ergo more influence? maybe bellini supports him more overtly earlier idk.) 

cardinal lawrence is dead. as a matter of fact, cardinal lawrence has been dead for a few days after the pope dies; unlike the pope, he keeps coming back to do his job. the curia covers up his death, because the dean of the college of cardinals is a ghost who apparently hated his job enough that is it his very literal purgatory is both hard to explain, and bad for the press. the fate of his unliving soul is very much at risk when steering the conclave, which is, uh, fun. cardinal tedesco's vape smoke now strongly smells of sulfur to him, which is probably not satanic in origin but then again might be. people keep voting on him and their belief in him corresponds directly to how much he can interact with the world, which is a very straightforward way to test one’s moral limits and otherwise a great torment. the one silver lining is that he can walk through walls and scoop out corrupt dealing easily, and no one can really tell he is dead. well, barely anyone. cardinal benítez and his ability to walk easily between the liminal spaces and certainties of the world is an outlier, and should not be counted.

dean lawrence keeps getting kidnapped, poisoned, blackmailed and otherwise threatened. this is an unfortunate if occasional part of being the vatican’s manager of two increasingly liberal and unorthodox papacies. it is considerably less fine and unfortunately far too normal for innocent xiv, who has a non-zero number of experiences with friends being kidnapped, poisoned, blackmailed and otherwise threatened. 

bellini/lawrence full on established relationship nonsense. as in, they have been together for thirty years and counting. conclave rewrite?? 

innocent xiv’s phone messages get leaked. innocent xiv’s phone messages consist of selfies with turtles sent to various friends and family, a good deal of memes in the santa marta groupchat, and daily jokes, complaints and affectionate messages to dean lawrence. the media has thoughts. aldo bellini, newly in charge of the papal media strategy, also has thoughts. and prayers.

a glimpse at all the people that Did vote for benítez from the start, and how much his work is or is not known outside the hermetic sphere of the vatican. he's kind of famous in religious activist circle probably! he has fans! he has a wide network of people he regularly approaches for information, resources, mutual aid and donations to his clinics and dioceses! he keeps dropping insane facts about horrifying personal experiences with unnerving serenity!

vincent benítez soft doms cardinal lawrence into taking a rest during the conclave. this incidents turns into a habit and gains new dimensions, as per the forthcoming changes in job status

pope john has an ongoing crisis of faith and also a gigantic imposter's syndrome. unrelatedly, pope john would really really really rather vincent benítez did not die in kabul and/or cause a diplomatic disaster. how convenient, then, that he is now a benevolent religious dictator who can arrange (read: wholesale invent) a number of postings and duties only benítez can accomplish. if anyone ask, this is a long-delayed move on part o the church to develop a deeper connection to on-the-ground aid organization. this can’t possibly last forever, though, can it? 

friar lawrence has shed all politics and chosen an abbey who keeps a vow of silence. friar lawrence is genuinely having a lovely time of things in his little abbey post canon. for like, uh, two months? friar lawrence keeps accidentally gaining more and more influence. manager-guy who cannot not manage. six months in he’s in charge of shelters and social associations. one year on, and he’d be archbishop again, if he were not aggressively trying to clamber down the church hierarchical rung. his friend, innocent xiv, who went from being a non-entity to one of the most famous men in the world, is sympathetic but also thinks this is very very funny. epistolary fic?? email epistolary? there is a little cat in a friar's habit and this is the most important part.

possibly related: cardinal lawrence comes back from his enforced sabbatical in a peaceful retreat freckled, healthier and smiling. people have thoughts on this, and emotions also. 

turtle pov of benitez/lawrence. literally: turtle pov. is the turtle an angel?? unclear if the turtle is an angel.

cardinal tedesco must die au.

[harpieisthecarpie]

looking at how Goro Akechi became a foil of Akira Kurusu thru their childhood (attachment styles)

(Content Warnings for discussing all the stuff in Akechi's childhood specifically, bad parenting, neglect, mental illness. Take care of urselves)

waking up to the tags @1derpu2 added on another post of mine about Akechi ("#I don't think I could survive in his position") had me thinking of a 15-16 year old Akechi, and how survival even feels to him.

Because arguably Akechi has been in survival mode since he was born. Even with a mother doing her best to provide, poverty fundamentally rewrites the brain especially at such a young age−

(Tangent: Akechi's dessert blog actually reminds me of Brennan Lee Mulligan during the d20 Misfits & Magic actual play discussing his character [Evan Kelmp, an unhoused orphaned kid] ordering from desserts at restaurants in order to maximize caloric intake for his money bc stuff on the dessert menu actually tends to contain the most calories– ANYWAYS)

–and he also can feel the underlying tension in how his mother is treated, how he himself is treated, how there is no support network for them. I can imagine that's part of the lure of an ensemble kid's show like Featherman: reliable companions who take your hand rather than slapping it away.

I've done a lot of reading into attachment styles and attachment trauma (bc it's interesting and also haha ;] trauma) and it is a really cool lens to view the differences between our two Wild Cards Akechi and Akira.

adding a reblog with an attachment theory rundown! actual discussion of akechu attachment stuff below cut

There is no better fit for Akechi than a Disorganized Attachment style after finding his sole caregiver and financial (his mother) dead by her own hand after years of her focus being split by the work she needed to do for them to afford survival, before being passed around by distant relatives who viewed him with contempt, if they acknowledged him at all.

The world treated him and his mother like vermin, so of course no one else is trustworthy, of course the people who take advantage are evil. Of course everyone takes advantage. Just like his father, who is the root of this whole horrible thing (the thing being Goro's life, the thing being Goro)

His mother left him violently, voluntarily (from his pov, suicide & mental illness are complicated), so he must be someone repulsive. Incapable of being loved. If he wants others to love him, and he must in order to get close enough to his father to kill, then he must be anything other than himself.

One of the symptoms of disorganized attachment and attachment trauma is the inability to regulate emotions, leading those with it to feel things with an intensity they can't control, soothe, or explain that can fluctuate between emotions rapidly.

And doesn't that markedly fit with a kid who has awoken such disparate personas that are both him? His entire relationship with the world (there must be justice but there is no such thing as justice) and his inner psyche does explain why he brings up Hegel. If you have both Loki and Robin Hood inside you, thesis and antithesis, then isn't it a comfort to know their existence somehow makes sense? That you are synthesis rather than just chaos and pain.

Meanwhile, from the little we hear about Akira's parents and how Persona 5 frames the adults around him, the Avoidant attachment style fits best. He is fiercely independent, with such a strong sense of identity despite with the masks he wears for others that he has the true Wild Card ability. He stands his ground with his morals, even when everyone around him is telling him his life would be easier if he gave up.

He has a strong internal moral center because he was never attached enough to his caregivers that they'd be able to influence his cognitive assimilation. Why trust someone's moral judgment when you can't even trust them with your vulnerability?

This is why Akira and Akechi are so fascinating as foils, as rivals, and as people who know each other better than anyone else could. Akechi walks around as a fake, appealing version of himself that Akira sees through clearly. And Akira likes the bitter, vicious, angry version of Akechi because it's honest. That is the underlying intensity of people he knows is hidden behind the masks adults are convinced are their faces. (Where's your rage? RISE RISE RISE)

Akira and Akechi match so well not because they have a hidden ugliness, but because they view the pleasant masks people wear to excuse or ignore injustice as what are truly ugly. And their difference lies in Akira's belief that there is good in people while Akechi's upbringing has him convinced that humanity is rotten to its roots.

And Akechi wants Akira's beating, caring heart between his teeth because there is still a lonely little child in his own chest who loves Featherman and just wanted a better life for his mom. And who won't fucking die, no matter how Akechi tears the world apart to match his perception of it.

Akechi has spent years trying to kill his heart, which has done nothing but soaked his masks in his own blood.

Akira looks Akechi in the eyes, straight through those masks, and steals his heart from off the chopping block. And he keeps it close even as Akechi turns the blade on him in a rage borne of fear.

They're gay as hell thanks for coming to my ted talk. might improve after work

[walkawaytall]

Okay, this has been ripping through TikTok and I do not think it's what people are saying it is. Now, I have no insider knowledge, but I have been cursed with an ability to often (though not always) be able to follow Trump's trains of thought even when he skips all around and clearly forgets to bridge the gap between subjects. I blame my ADHD-riddled brain, which does similar things if I don't make a concerted effort to rein it in. Anyway.

Some necessary background: Trump was president when the US secured the 2026 World Cup, and I believe also when we secured the 2028 Olympics. That's what he's talking about in this section. His full statement about this topic is below:

And in 2028, the Los Angeles Olympics will be one of the great sporting events and patriotic celebrations in history. I was with Gianni, the head of the Olympics. And because of the wildfires, they’re going to do a special, special job. They’re going to really do something very special for the Olympics. And the opposite, some people said, oh, maybe the Olympics can’t go there. It turned out just the opposite. They came to see me the other day and the committee. And it’s just the opposite. So the Olympics is great. And Johnny, for the others, you know, the World Cup. Johnny is the head of it. We had our top people, Wasserman. They all came in on the Olympics. And then I saw Johnny. And we got the World Cup, too. And you know, it’s only because they rigged the election that I’ll be your president representing you there. So I got both of them. I got the Olympics and I got the World Cup. And I said, you know, it’s too bad. One was in 2026 and the other was in 2028. And I said, I won’t be there. I won’t be your president. But then they rigged the election. And now we won. So I’m going to be your president for the Olympics and for the World Cup. So, Johnny, thank you for the World Cup. And everybody, thank you for the Olympics. We’re going to have a great time.

I understand that this is rambling and confusing, so I have attempted to translate it into a normal, linear statement below.

My translation: When Trump was president, he was involved in securing the United States as the location for the 2026 World Cup and the 2028 Olympics. He either thought or told some people that it was kind of a bummer that he wouldn't be president the years those events took place. The implication there is that he assumed he would win the 2020 election, thus disqualifying him from running for president again. But then the Democrats rigged the election, which meant he didn't do his second term in 2020, and now he's won the 2024 election, so he'll get to be president during the World Cup and the Olympics.

It is important to note that Trump uses a lot of "us" and "them" rhetoric to stir up his constituents, where "we/us" is him and his followers and "they/them" is anyone who opposes him. It's very 1930s Germany, but I can't think about that for too long or I end up in a panic spiral. Anyway, while he obviously uses "them" the normal way -- as a generic pronoun -- I would be very surprised to see him use it to refer to his own people, especially in this context. If he were brazenly bragging about fixing the election, I'd think he'd use we. (I'm not...like, a linguistics expert; this is just an observation. But his talking points depend on heavy repetition. That's why every opposing politician has a demeaning nickname that gets beaten to death, why "fake news" has become everyday language, why he's still talking about the 2020 election as being rigged, etc. This is just another chance to remind everyone in the room that they got cheated out of something in 2020, to really encourage more unrest.)

Also, whenever thinking about a conspiracy theory, it's helpful to consider two questions:

Who does it benefit?

Does the risk outweigh the reward?

In this case, a rigged election obviously would benefit Trump greatly. However, revealing it on a national stage wouldn't. Trump isn't stupid. He chooses to remain ignorant about some things, and refuses to depend on experts when he should, but when it comes to something like this, I don't see him bumbling into a conspiracy reveal. The risk is too great.

Because something you have to understand is that, while his most die-hard fans are in a personality cult of sorts and will bend over backward to excuse his every move, he has moderate voters. He has people who can't stand him as a person, but disliked Harris more and those people would likely be pretty pissed if they found out the election had been rigged.

Also, many of his die-hard fans believe they are in the majority in our country. I know this because I have been told this regularly on TikTok this week when I made some videos related to the inauguration. Trump tells people this all the time -- that his victory was a landslide (he got 49.9% of the votes in 2024, so that is a stretch), that he's a man of the people, etc. Many of these people believe that the 2020 election was rigged, but 2024 was won fair-and-square. And while I'm sure some would be fine if the 2024 election was rigged as long as the results worked in their favor, it's too much of a risk to potentially upset his followers. Especially since...what would the reward be here?

Like, I get it: Trump's very boastful about a lot of things. But this would not endear him to all of his voters, and even for those who were okay with it...it's possible some would think it was a great "beat them at their own game" sort of thing, but it doesn't really gain him much of anything.

So, I personally do not believe that he was admitting to rigging the election at a nationally publicized rally. I do agree that some of his statements earlier in the speech about Elon understanding voting computers was weird, but it also could have just been one of his tangents. Anyway, unless there is more evidence than this particular speech, I personally think it's just speculation (though I've wondered about it myself for months).

I saw a clip on Tiktok but when looking it up on the Google I found no major news organization talking about it. Edit: Someone told me I misconstrued what he ment so I'm just gonna let this sit here and yall can make up yalls own mind 🤷🏾‍♀️

[doujinshigirlai]

Closer than ever <3

It's been a while 😭🫶🏻✨

Sypnosis: random drabble about enha confessing to y/n (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Pairing: ot7!enhypen x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, acquaintances to lovers

Warnings: none!!!

Enjoy my pookies 🫶🏻✨💞

⋋⁠✿Lee Heeseung✿⁠⋌ You’re standing by the vending machine in the office break room, staring blankly at the rows of snacks, your mind too cluttered to decide on anything. The soft hum of the machine is drowned out by the sound of a familiar voice behind you.

“You’ve been eyeing that granola bar for the last two minutes. Is it really that good?”

You turn around to see Heeseung, his signature playful grin already tugging at his lips. You’ve known him for a few months now—he joined your department not long ago. Though your conversations have mostly been surface-level, there’s something about his relaxed confidence that always gets under your skin.

“It’s not about the granola bar,” you reply with a sigh, pressing the button for a random snack. “I’m just... distracted.”

Heeseung tilts his head, his eyes softening. “Work stress?”

“Among other things,” you admit, clutching the snack as if it’s a lifeline. You’re not sure why, but you feel a strange urge to confide in him, even though you’ve barely scratched the surface of who he is.

“Here,” he says, leaning against the vending machine. “I’ll trade you five minutes of bad jokes for a smile. Deal?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You really think your jokes are that good?”

He smirks. “I think I can make you laugh. And I’m not leaving until I do.”

True to his word, Heeseung starts spouting the cheesiest, most ridiculous puns you’ve ever heard. It’s impossible not to crack a smile, and by the end of his impromptu comedy routine, you’re laughing so hard you nearly forget why you were stressed in the first place.

“See?” he says, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “Mission accomplished.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest lingers. “Fine, I’ll admit it. You’re not the worst company.”

“Wow,” he teases, pretending to clutch his heart. “The highest praise I’ve ever received.”

From that day on, Heeseung seems to pop up everywhere—whether it’s during lunch breaks or late nights at the office. The more you talk, the more you realize how easy it is to be around him. He has this uncanny ability to make you forget your worries, to make you feel seen.

One evening, after yet another long day, he walks you to your car. The cool breeze carries the faint scent of his cologne, and for a moment, the world feels a little less heavy.

“You know,” he says softly, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I never thought I’d look forward to work so much... until I met you.”

You freeze, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. His usual teasing tone is gone, replaced by something deeper, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Heeseung—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, his gaze meeting yours. “You make everything better. And I think... I think I want to be the person who does that for you, too.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. For once, you’re at a loss for words, but the way he looks at you—with so much hope and vulnerability—tells you all you need to know.

So you take a step closer, letting your walls crumble just a little. “You already do.”

His smile is slow, genuine, and when he takes your hand in his, it feels like the start of something you never saw coming—but everything you’ve been waiting for.

Rest of the members under the cut ✨✨✨

⋋⁠✿Park Jongseong✿⁠⋌ It starts on an ordinary Tuesday, with you standing in line at the campus coffee shop. The line is slow, and the cold draft from the door doesn’t help your mood. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, checking the time. You’re already running late.

“I’d suggest the caramel latte,” a smooth voice says behind you. You turn to see Jay, his dark eyes studying the menu as if he hasn’t memorized it already.

You know him in passing—a friend of a friend, someone who’s always in the background of your social circle but never quite in your orbit. He’s polite, even charming, but he’s always been... distant.

“I don’t think caramel’s going to fix my morning,” you reply with a sigh, crossing your arms.

Jay glances down at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “No, but caffeine might.”

The barista finally calls your turn, and as you step up to order, Jay leans casually against the counter beside you. You don’t know why, but his presence is oddly calming.

“You’re not going to cut me in line, are you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Relax,” he says, his tone amused. “I’m just here to keep you company.”

You scoff but can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. After you order, Jay steps forward, surprising you by paying for your drink before you can protest.

“Jay—”

“Consider it my good deed of the day,” he says, his smirk softening into something almost kind. “You look like you could use one.”

You don’t have time to argue, nor do you have time to dwell on it. But from that day on, Jay seems to be everywhere. In the library when you’re cramming for exams. At the park when you’re trying to clear your head. Always there with a witty remark or a quiet offer of help.

At first, it’s annoying. Then it’s comforting. And somewhere along the way, you stop questioning it.

One night, after an exhausting week, you find yourself sitting with Jay on a park bench, sipping on hot cocoa he insisted you needed. The stars are out, the air crisp, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this... at peace.

“You’re different than I thought,” you admit, breaking the silence.

Jay raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What’d you think I was like?”

“Arrogant. Unapproachable. Too perfect to be real.”

He laughs, a low, rich sound that makes your chest tighten. “And now?”

You shrug, looking away. “Still too perfect, but... I guess I was wrong about the rest.”

When you glance back, Jay is watching you intently, his expression unreadable.

“You don’t realize how often I’ve thought the same about you,” he says quietly.

Your breath catches. “What do you mean?”

He leans closer, the space between you shrinking. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a moment before returning to your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to get closer to you. And I’m tired of waiting.”

Before you can process his words, he closes the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle it feels like a question. Your heart races, your hands instinctively gripping the edges of your coat, but when you feel the warmth of his hand against your cheek, the world around you fades.

It’s Jay who pulls back first, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. “Too perfect now?” he murmurs, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No. Just... perfect enough.”

And as he takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, you realize you don’t need coffee, or cocoa, or anything else to fix your day. Because for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly as it should.

⋋⁠✿Sim Jaeyun✿⁠⋌ The late summer evening breeze sweeps through the campus courtyard as you balance a stack of books in your arms, cursing yourself for not grabbing a bag. You’re halfway across when a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

“Need some help there?”

You turn to see Jake, his golden hair catching the fading sunlight. He’s leaning casually against a nearby bench, his ever-present hoodie slung over one shoulder. You know Jake well enough to say hello in passing—your mutual friends ensure that your paths cross more often than not—but your interactions have always been polite, nothing more.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, adjusting the books.

Jake raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “You sure about that?”

Before you can respond, he’s already stepping forward, taking the top half of the stack from your arms. His fingers graze yours briefly, and the contact sends a jolt through you that you quickly dismiss.

“Really, I was fine,” you insist, trailing after him as he starts walking toward the library.

“Clearly,” he teases, glancing over his shoulder. “You looked totally at ease, struggling not to drop an entire semester’s worth of reading.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite to it. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Didn’t need to,” Jake replies smoothly.

The two of you walk in silence for a moment, the tension between you both oddly palpable. It’s not the first time Jake’s gone out of his way to help you, but something about this moment feels different—like the weight of unspoken words is pressing down on the air around you.

When you reach the library, Jake sets the books down on a nearby table, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “There. Crisis averted.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

Jake doesn’t move, his eyes studying you like he’s debating something. Finally, he takes a step closer, the playfulness in his expression replaced by something more serious.

“You know,” he begins, his voice lower now, “you’re really bad at asking for help.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the way your heart is suddenly racing. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”

“It’s my business,” Jake says, his tone firmer now, “because I care about you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unmistakable. Your breath catches, and you’re not sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you—like he’s been holding this in for far too long—or the fact that your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest.

“Jake...” you start, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No, let me say this,” he insists, his voice softening. “I know we’re not close. I know I’m just that guy you see in passing, the one who cracks jokes and never seems to take anything seriously. But with you... it’s different. You make me want to be better. You make me feel like I can be more.”

You’re frozen in place, your mind racing as you try to process the sheer weight of his confession.

“I’ve been trying to tell myself I’m fine just watching from a distance,” he continues, his voice almost breaking.

“But I’m not. I’m not fine, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

The tension between you is electric, the air so thick with emotion that it’s almost suffocating. Jake takes another step closer, his hand hovering near yours, as if he’s waiting for permission to close the gap.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. “I just... I needed you to know.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “Jake, I—”

But before you can finish, the librarian’s voice cuts through the air. “Excuse me, but this is a quiet zone.”

The moment shatters, and Jake pulls back slightly, his lips curving into a sheepish smile. “Guess we’re causing a scene,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Yeah, we are.”

Jake looks at you for a long moment, his eyes still filled with unspoken words. “I meant what I said,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. Then, with one last lingering glance, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with your heart in your throat and your mind spinning.

And as you watch him disappear into the stacks, you realize that whatever this is—whatever it could be—you’re not ready to let it slip through your fingers.

⋋⁠✿Park Sunghoon⁠✿⁠⋌ It’s late, and the campus quad is eerily quiet except for the sound of your boots crunching against the frosty grass. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, regretting your decision to stay in the library until closing. The dim glow of the streetlights casts long shadows, and you quicken your pace.

"Walking alone this late?” a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

You turn sharply, heart skipping a beat, only to see Sunghoon leaning casually against a nearby lamppost. His breath forms a faint mist in the cold air, and his hands are shoved into the pockets of his black coat.

“Sunghoon?” you say, your voice tinged with surprise.

He straightens up, falling into step beside you. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You’ve known Sunghoon for a while now, mostly through shared classes and mutual friends. He’s always been polite, reserved even—though his quiet confidence and striking looks have earned him more than a few admirers. Still, your interactions have always been brief, nothing that would explain why he’s here now.

“What are you doing out so late?” you ask, glancing at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he counters, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s dangerous to walk around alone at night?".

You roll your eyes. “I can take care of myself, thanks.”

“Maybe,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “But now you don’t have to.”

The two of you walk in silence for a while, the tension between you humming like a live wire. There’s something about the way Sunghoon moves—so self-assured yet unassuming—that makes it hard to look away.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you say after a while.

“Do what?”

“Play the hero,” you reply, glancing at him.

He stops walking, and you’re forced to stop too, turning to face him. His expression is unreadable, but his dark eyes hold yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

“You think I’m doing this to play the hero?” he asks, his voice low, almost dangerous.

You hesitate, suddenly unsure of yourself. “I don’t know. Aren’t you?”

Sunghoon takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His presence is overwhelming, and you find yourself rooted to the spot.

“I’m here,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “because I wanted to see you. Because every time I see you, it’s harder to walk away. And I’m done pretending that it’s not.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave.

“Sunghoon...” you start, but he shakes his head, silencing you.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to your lips before returning to your eyes. “If this isn’t what you want, tell me, and I’ll walk away.”

You don’t say anything, your mind racing, your heart pounding. And then, instead of speaking, you step closer, bridging the gap between you.

That’s all the confirmation he needs. Sunghoon leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both soft and electrifying, like the first rush of a winter storm. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your chilled skin, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceases to exist.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air.

You smile, your heart still racing. “What took you so long?”

Sunghoon chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with a mixture of relief and something deeper. “I guess I needed to know you wouldn’t push me away.”

You shake your head, your smile widening. “Not a chance.”

And as the two of you stand there under the dim streetlight, the frost on the grass glittering around you, it feels like the start of something neither of you can—or want to—turn back from.

⋋⁠✿Kim Sunoo⁠✿⁠⋌ The campus is quiet, the kind of stillness that feels unnatural. You’ve been in the library for hours, buried in notes and textbooks, your mind drifting in and out of focus. It’s been a long day, and you’re ready to head home, but as you step out of the building into the evening chill, you’re met with an unexpected sight—Sunoo, sitting on a bench under the dim light of a streetlamp, his eyes trained on the starless sky.

You stop in your tracks, unsure if you should interrupt him. You’ve never been particularly close, and yet, for some reason, you always find yourself caught in his orbit. He’s always been kind, that easy smile never far from his lips, but there’s something about him that feels distant—a warmth that’s almost unreachable.

He notices you standing there, and his expression shifts, that usual playful grin softening.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, your voice breaking the silence.

Sunoo looks up, his gaze locking with yours. “More like couldn’t stop thinking,” he replies, his voice quieter than usual.

You hesitate, moving closer to the bench. “About what?”

Sunoo shifts to make room, patting the spot next to him. You sit down, careful not to let your shoulder brush his, though it feels almost impossible not to.

“It’s... complicated,” he says after a long pause, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.

You turn to face him, the tension between you thickening. You know he’s been quieter lately, as if something is weighing on his mind. There’s a softness to him now, an unspoken vulnerability that draws you in even more.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” you offer gently.

Sunoo smiles faintly, shaking his head. “No, I think... I think it’s time I said it.”

You wait, your heart beginning to race as he looks down, as if trying to find the right words. His usual confidence is replaced by uncertainty, and it’s unsettling to see him like this.

“I’ve been holding back,” he starts slowly, “because I didn’t want to make things complicated. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You swallow, unsure if you want to hear what’s coming next. The air feels charged, like something big is about to happen, but you're unsure if you're ready to face it.

“I think I’ve liked you for longer than I realized,” Sunoo confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I was scared. Scared of what it would mean. Scared of ruining whatever we have.”

Your breath hitches, the words sinking in deeper than you expected. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. It’s almost too much to process. Sunoo, always the cheerful and outgoing one, the guy who can make anyone laugh, is standing there—vulnerable and open in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says, looking at you earnestly. “I just... needed you to know.”

The weight of his confession presses down on you, and you can feel the tension between you like a palpable force. His eyes are wide, searching yours for a reaction, and for the first time, you realize how much you’ve been holding back as well.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

Sunoo nods, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you.”

You both sit in silence, the night growing colder around you, but you don’t move. The quiet between you now feels comfortable, as though you’ve just crossed an invisible line that neither of you can go back from.

Finally, Sunoo stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you around,” he says, his usual carefree tone returning, but there’s still a tenderness in his eyes.

You nod, watching him walk away, your heart a tangled mess of emotions. But as the silence settles in once more, you realize that his confession has changed something between you. It’s not just the words; it’s the way you feel the truth of them, how everything suddenly feels clearer, even if it’s still uncertain "I like you too!!!", you shout. He turns, grinning widely and genuinely.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of something that neither of you are ready to define yet—but both of you know will be impossible to forget.

⋋⁠✿Yang Jungwon⁠✿⁠⋌ The early morning sun casts a soft golden light across the campus as you step out of the dorm, a cup of coffee in hand to start your day. The campus is quieter than usual, the early risers having already started their routines, and the air is crisp with the promise of a new day.

As you make your way toward the main building, you spot Jungwon sitting on one of the benches by the fountain. The sunlight catches in his hair, giving him an almost ethereal glow, and for a moment, he seems completely absorbed in the world around him. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jacket, and his gaze is focused on the morning sky, his features soft and contemplative.

You pause for a moment, unsure if you should interrupt his peace, but then you find yourself walking toward him anyway.

"Jungwon?" You call out, voice hesitant

He blinks, looking up with a slight surprise before his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. “Hey, you’re up early,” he says, his voice still carrying the remnants of sleepiness but also warmth.

You offer a small smile in return, shrugging. “Yeah, I’ve got a busy day ahead. I thought I’d grab some coffee before the rush.”

“Smart choice,” he says, patting the space beside him on the bench. “Want to sit for a bit?”

You sit down beside him, wrapping your hands around the warmth of your coffee cup. There’s a calmness in the air now, the world slowly waking up around you. And for a moment, you simply sit in silence, the sound of birds chirping and the faint rustle of leaves the only noise.

“You’ve been quiet this morning,” you remark, glancing at Jungwon, who’s still staring off into the distance.

He shifts slightly, as if he’s just now realizing how still he’s been. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot,” he admits, his voice softer than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “About what?”

Jungwon’s gaze drifts to the ground for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his jacket. There’s a hesitation there, a vulnerability in his posture that you don’t often see.

“It’s... about us,” he says quietly, his voice carrying an honesty that you’re not used to hearing from him.

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “Us?”

He turns his head slightly to face you, his eyes catching yours. “Yeah,” he says, his voice low. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot more than I should, probably. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but... I think it’s time I do.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Jungwon, who’s always been so composed and in control, now seems different. There’s a vulnerability to him now that makes your heart race.

"I don’t want to make things complicated,” he continues, his voice almost a whisper. “But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way. I think about you all the time, and I just... I need you to know that.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. Jungwon has always been the calm and collected one, the friend who makes everyone feel at ease. But this side of him, the side that’s unsure and uncertain, catches you off guard.

You turn to face him, the warmth of your coffee forgotten in your hands. “Jungwon, I—”

Before you can finish, he’s already leaning in, his eyes searching yours for a hint of whether you’re okay with this. There’s no hesitation this time, no second-guessing. Jungwon closes the gap between you, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. It’s soft, barely there, but it holds so much meaning. A confession in the quiet of the morning, the warmth of his lips lingering even after the kiss is over.

When he pulls back, there’s a faint blush on his cheeks, and he looks at you with wide, uncertain eyes. “I hope that wasn’t too much,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s afraid of pushing you away.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest, and smile softly. “No, it wasn’t. It’s just... I’ve been thinking about you too.”

His expression softens, a genuine smile slowly spreading across his face. “Really?” he asks, his voice filled with quiet relief.

You nod, feeling the warmth spreading through your chest. “Really.”

Jungwon lets out a breath of relief, his smile widening. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this is definitely better than I thought.”

You laugh softly, feeling the weight of the tension between you ease. “I think we’ve both been a little unsure of how to handle this, huh?”

“Yeah,” he admits, chuckling lightly. “But I’m glad it’s out there now.”

And as the two of you sit together on the bench, the sun rises higher in the sky, you both realize that whatever comes next, it’s the start of something new—something neither of you were expecting, but both of you are willing to embrace.

⋋⁠✿Nishimura Riki✿⁠⋌ The morning sun spills through the windows of the campus café as you sit by the large glass wall, the warmth of the light casting a soft glow over your book and coffee. You’ve been coming here a lot lately, needing a quiet escape from the chaos of classes and the constant buzz of campus life.

Today, however, something feels different. You glance up from your book as the door chimes open, and in walks Niki. His usual carefree energy is a little more subdued today, and the way his eyes scan the room before locking on you is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Niki doesn’t usually come to this café in the mornings; he’s more of an afternoon kind of person, where his energy seems boundless. But today, he steps toward your table, hesitating for a moment, like he’s trying to decide whether to say something.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice quieter than usual. You notice the way his eyes avoid yours for a split second, a hint of uncertainty in his usually confident demeanor.

“Of course,” you reply, your heart inexplicably racing. You shift your things aside to make room for him, and he sits across from you, his usual grin missing, replaced by a soft, thoughtful expression.

For a few moments, there’s an awkward silence between you. You’re used to Niki being playful, always cracking jokes, always full of energy, but today, he seems almost... hesitant.

“You okay?” you ask, unable to ignore the change in his vibe.

He looks up at you, his lips curling slightly, but it’s not his usual carefree smile. It’s almost as if he’s considering something deeply before he answers. “Yeah, just thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff?” you raise an eyebrow. “What kind of stuff?”

He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the table as he seems to lose himself in thought again. “Just... everything, I guess. People. Life.” His voice is softer now, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “And you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can feel the shift in the air. Niki doesn’t usually speak like this, especially about you.

“Me?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way he says it makes your heart race even faster.

He nods, his gaze lifting to meet yours again. This time, it feels like he’s looking at you in a way that’s different—more intense, more meaningful. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. About how you’re always there, and how I’ve always been able to talk to you. You’re... different, you know? I think I’ve started feeling more than just the friendship thing.”

Your stomach flips, and your words get caught in your throat. You’ve always had a soft spot for Niki—his charm, his humor, his way of making everything feel effortless. But this... this confession feels like it’s pulling you into something much deeper than you expected.

“You’re telling me this now?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light, but your heart is pounding in your chest.

Niki looks at you for a long moment, as if he’s debating something in his mind. Then, he leans forward slightly, his hands folding on the table. His usual playful demeanor is gone, replaced by something more raw, more vulnerable.

“I know I’ve always acted like I was the one who had it all figured out,” he says, his voice quiet, but his eyes focused on you. “But the truth is... I’ve been a little scared.”

“Scared?” You lean forward, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “Scared of what?”

“Scared of how much you mean to me,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Scared of how I might mess things up. I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I can’t ignore it anymore.”

The air is thick with tension now. You feel your heart beat faster, not from fear, but from something else—something electric.

“Niki, I—”

But before you can finish your sentence, he reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch is enough to make your pulse spike, and your words falter as you meet his gaze.

“I don’t want to hide this anymore,” he says, his voice steady but full of the emotion he’s been holding back. “I like you. More than just as a friend. And I had to tell you, even if it’s scary.”

You sit there for a moment, the world around you seeming to slow down. Niki, the guy who’s always been the center of attention, always so full of life, is now sitting in front of you, vulnerable and open in a way you’ve never seen before.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been feeling the same way.

You don’t need words anymore. Without thinking, you reach for his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. It’s simple, but it feels like everything you’ve been too scared to say is being communicated in this single, quiet touch.

Niki’s eyes soften, and a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face. “I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same,” he admits, his voice a little breathless.

You smile, squeezing his hand gently. “I think we’ve both been scared of the same thing.”

And as you sit there, hands locked together, the morning light shining through the window, you realize that this is the start of something new. Something that doesn’t need words, but something you’re both willing to explore together.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED POOKIESSSS 💞✨💞

Taglist: @fangirlingobsessed @ilovebtsomgie @ayakananodesu @leftx1imaginesrenji-yanagirebel @axxftergl0w @astro-des @han-doolsetnet @ssungiverb @itsanaaa22 @bonsai-maze @graciiwestlake @lezleeferguson-120 @sovlidago @callistomk @ottokenta @ikeulove @fredneo17 @dprvivi @emisoftly @puppymyunjae @gven-takn @whitediamond778 @leipforggy

[writingoddess1125]

1999 pt. 7

Kurt Wagner x Fem Reader

Some Angst, Sad Topics

Reader has Empath abilities where she can feel others’ emotions, her mind can’t be read by either, and if she touches someone she can make them feel what she feels.

Marvel Masterlist <<

Milo had always been prepared to hate his father, to hate the man who had left his children and their mother- to suffer and figure it out on their own.

However- When he saw that man's face.. the sparkle in his eyes and despite seeing awkward and terrified- happy to see them, joyous almost...

It was too much and Milo felt like his got sucked into the vacuums of space.. He honestly didn't know why he just walked out of the house, it took him about 4 blocks down the street to actually use his mutation to get to where he wanted instead of walking.

Ending up with Milo had his forehead pressed against a tree, his mind oddly blank and clear of any thoughts- his chest felt hollow and body felt like it was barely there. Only just.. existing in this moment.

However it seemed he was taking it better then Leon who had his face smashed into his knees crying with his tail wrapped around him. Sobbing so hard that he was hiccuping and seemingly having a panic attack-

"T-This is so fucked man.." Leon finally hiccuped out, Lifting his head enough to wipe the tears and snot from his face. Milo finally snapping from his almost comatose state.

Milo slowly moving plopped down on the grass next to Leon.

"Yeah it is..."

Leon looked to his sibling seeing that vacant and clearly shell shocked look-

"...You look like someone who got back from war dude" Leon managed to sniffle out as he wiped his face more, Milo pushing Leon with his tail lightly.

"Yeah and you're crying like a chick who lost her husband in a war" Both boys now able to at least crack a smile, starting to at least somewhat calm down.

Milo looking around the patch of seemingly overgrown trees and grass around them and humming.

"How did we end up in the same spot if we left at different time..." He mumbled.

"Cause we go to the exact same place everytime we freak out"

Both boys looked at each other. "Behind the Gas Station" they mumbled in unison- before seeming laughing a bit at this.

The two sat in silence for a while longer hours passing as they watched as the sky darkened.

"We.. are gonna have to face all of this huh-"

Leon nodded at this as he clicked his tongue with a nod.

"Yep-"

Milo sighed heavily and rubbed his face harshly. Clearly not really up for this type of situation in the slightest.

"We need a gameplan.. like- Odviously Mom is gonna do 'I know this is a lot and you have questions- So' blah blah-" Milo started as he seemed to try and logically think this over and-

"Why are we blue.. And the fuck is with the tail?" Leon cut in- Milo blinking at his brother.

"Thats.. a good question actually.."

Both boys spent a better part of an hour thinking over every question they could ever think of. From the Eyes, Teeth, Tail, Why the bad smell when they teleport, and a host of others as why as the obvious one of why he wasn't in their life.

After an hour of this when it was almost pitch black did the two feel satisfied with their list of questions.

Now standing there apprehensive and seemingly stalling- Leon breaking first.

"Alright lets..lets... go home-"

Both teens nodded as they nodded and disapeared, appearing in their backyard. It seemed like a bad idea to just burst in the house so they slowly slid open the window and crawled in- Glancing around the area as both boys could already tell it had been used.

Especially seeing what seemed to be take out on the island- Leon stepping over to it and silently opening up the boxes to see some fairly decent Italian food. Which Leon took the chance to shove some cold garlic bread in his mouth-

Milo however went into the junk drawer to get a pen silently to make sure they had all the questions written down that they had-

However after he had written down the 4th one and Leon had eaten 2 more pieces of bread the kitchen lights flicked on making both boys jump- well 3 as Kurt jumped from his sleeping position on the couch.

(Y/N) standing there, arms crossed in her robe as she stared at her sons and now Kurt who were all wide eyed.

"...We either all go to bed, or have a conversation now"

Her voice felt like law as all three blue men seemed to awkwardly squirm in their place, However the twins couldn't help but have their eyes land on the man on the couch- who seemed to be stealing glances at them like he was afraid of getting caught just as they were with him.

Milo swallowed thickly as he held up the napkin he had managed to write the start of his questions.

"We- have questions.."

That one sentence turned into the 4 of them now in the livingroom, (Y/N) having heated up both boys the leftovers as Her and Kurt sat on one side and Milo and Leon sat on the otherswide.

Leon and Kurt looking at each other awkwardly while Milo and (Y/N) seemed to be having the most intense staring contest in the world. (Y/N) finally sighing as she gave a soft nod.

"You two have the floor-"

"Um- Why are we blue?" Leon weakly asked seemingly breaking the ice, Kurt giving a shy smile at this as he rubbed his hands together.

"My Mutter is blue- It seemed to simply be a popular trait I suppose" He said softly.

"Why didn't you want us?" Milo shot back sharply, making Kurt eyes widen.

"N-Nein.. Milo I never- I didn't know, I would never not want you.. or you Leon.. I.."

He looked to (Y/N) finally who seemingly refused to look at him, however he could see her eyes watering.

"It was my fault- I failed all of you.. Back then I had assumed that your mother was cheating on me.. and with how fragile my ego was, I didn't want to listen to her. I know now she was trying to tell me she was having you two but.. I am foolish" Kurt said softly, his hands tightly clasp as he looked down at them. Guilt eating through his soul.

(Y/N) now finally turned to look at him, a swirl of emotions on her face.

"You thought I was cheating on you? Are you fucking serious Kurt I gave you a God damn card and-" Kurt seemed to sink further in his seat.

"...I didnt... read till a few weeks ago" He mumbled out, feeling (Y/N) glaring at him. He was sure if she hadn't thrown a lamp at him before she would have done it now.

However much to the whole family surprise this game of what felt like 20 questions was oddly- pleasant? With some sprinkling of awkward moments.

From telling of Kurt's early life in a Circus which seemed to peak Leon interest, Their heritage, to explaining how he discovered his parentage which even surprised (Y/N)- However it seemed Kurt kept his career as an Xmen for a different time.

However when (Y/N) finally got questioned- She wasn't exactly thrilled at the line of questioning, especially from Kurt.

"Where were the children born?-" He hade asked softly clearly ment to be innocent however it truthfully was a heavy topic.

"You Gave Birth on Za floor of a resturant?" Kurt said horrified, Leon and Milo also shocked.

"Chicago, In the bathroom floor of a Dinner"

The silence that fell over was almost suffocating-

"I thought we were born in a Hospital in Cook County?" Milo asked equally horrified. (Y/N) shaking her head calmly.

"Well, you two got your birth certificates there- but no, you were born on the floor of the diner I was working at.. and I raised you two in a woman's shelter for the first few months of your life"

Kurt felt the air leave his lungs, his hands so tightly clasp almost white with how hard it was. Regret so strong he could taste it like it was bile in his throat.

The group now sitting in silence as the weight of those words seemed to sink in. (Y/N) swallowing thickly as she looked at the clock on the wall.

"And You didn't tell us?- How many things have you not told us?" Leon said softly, looking to his Mother as for the first time, anger flickered through him.

"...A lot..."

"Let's pick this back up later.. all of us need to sleep.. You boys head off to bed okay?"

There seemed to be a silent agreement to leave the other questions lie as the boys silently got up, tossing out their paper plates of food and walked to their rooms silently, (Y/N) not missing the side glare from Leon and the hollow look on Milo's.

(Y/N) rubbing her head, having felt overwhelmed by the constant waves of emotions- truthfully feeling nauseous by it all. Standing up prepared to probably take some sort of headache medicine and lay down for the evening- or morning in this case.

As she turned to leave Kurt hand shot up and grabbed her own. (Y/N) facing him as she saw the grim and deathly serious look on his face.

"...can we speak for a few moments longer?"

Tag List:

@bruher @alexloveskii @hahaspoilhaha @coliflowerplants @trinswhimsys @black-brained @alastorhazbin @slytherinmushu @i-am-iron-man-3000 @justarandomwriterwriting @allgonemad @sadslasher13 @bimboshaggy @koko-kiko @boywivlove @devotedlyshadowytheorist @newtonfinnigan @mad-grace-amber @bufaunfu @babyred7 @veronika272 @scarymosscryptid @songbirdemerald-blog @lunas-nova @author-kweenyluv

[rangersoup]

Thank you @emsprovisions @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom @eclectic-sassycoweyes @paperstorm @nisbanisba @thisbuildinghasfeelings @heartstringsduet @annoyingcloudearthquake and @futures-tense for tagging me!! I’m really feeling the love today 🥰 here’s a snippet of my current wip Turn and Burn which can be read in Ao3.

Uh-oh, I know that face.”

“What face?” Carlos demands, looking up from the case file he is only pretending to look through.

“Your pouty face,” Campbell says, taking a long sip of his coffee as he sits down at the desk next to Carlos.

“I do not have a pouty face,” Carlos huffs.

Campbell chuckles and gives Carlos a pitying look. “Sure and I have two heads.”

Carlos glares at him and he only shrugs. “What's eating you on this fine Monday morning?”

“Oh nothing,” Carlos sighs and pretends to direct his attention back to the file sitting open in front of him. His mind couldn’t be farther away from work. He’s still thinking about the rambunctious medicine hat mare.

“I don’t know how I feel about you lying to me, partner,” Cambell says on a long exhale, leaning back in his chair to study Carlos. Carlos tries to ignore him, but he can feel him watching him.

“It’s nothing,” he insists.

Campbell keeps staring at him expectantly.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than harassing me?”

Campbell checks his watch and shrugs. “Not really. I’ve got all day to get stuff done.”

“It’s stupid and doesn’t matter.”

Campbell sighs and hangs his hat on the divider between their desks. “Is it husband problems or kid problems?”

“Neither.” Saying this is a mistake because Campbell lifts an eyebrow. Now he really has his interest piqued.

“Hmm,” Campbell’s gaze gets a little more intense. “TK brought home another unwanted reptile?”

Carlos cracks a smile and laughs a little. “No, no more new pets. Yet.”

“Yet?” his partner prompts.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“Definitely not.”

“Fiiiine,” Carlos says, giving up on his attempt to be coy. “It's about a horse.”

“Oooh boy.”

“Yeah,” Carlos agrees. Oh boy is right.

“Well, let's hear it,” Campbell says, waving his hand.

“I gave TK a riding lesson over the weekend–”

“And he got dumped off and wants nothing to do with em’ anymore?”

“Would you let me finish?”

“Yes, sorry, continue.”

“No, while we were there someone came by returning a horse he bought, that’s apparently crazy and hasn’t been able to keep a owner longer than a couple months before being brought back…”

“And you want to try to train the crazy horse and your husband doesn’t want you to get your neck broken or your brains kicked in?” Campbell finishes for him.

Carlos purses his lips. “Something like that.”

“But he doesn’t know horses so you're not inclined to listen?”

“Also yes.”

Campbell nods his head thoughtfully. “How bad we talking?”

“People have been trying to work with her for two years and no one’s been able to sit on her.”

“It’s a mare? Boy, you really are in trouble,” Campbell chuckles.

“Yeahhh,” Carlos agrees with a deep sigh.

Campbell goes back to studying him for a few more moments before speaking again. “What’s special about her?”

“Who says there’s something special?”

“Your face and the fact that we’re having this conversation.”

Carlos lets out a little huff of air. He should know by now that his partner has the ability to read him like an open book. Hiding things isn’t ever going to work. “She’s the last horse my dad ever touched.”

“I see.”

“And she’s the last foal to come out of my old horse.”

Campbell rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I'm not gonna try to talk you out of trying to work with her. But I will say, I’m quite fond of you even if you’re a pain in my ass and I’d hate to see you get your brains kicked out.”

“It’s a stupid idea, isn’t it?”

Campbell shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen her for myself.”

Open tagging anyone who wants to participate!

[piecesunfolding]

Yes! Balance is so, so, so important.

I'm not the best teacher or example, but I know my life to give one. In action, on the very first day of class, I hit my students with a number of things:

I have already made a seating chart. Yes, they are sitting exactly where I tell them to.

Once everyone is sat down, I go through and state both their names (they have a Korean name and an English name), then I ask them which name they prefer.

I inform them that I'm a really, really good teacher in some ways and a really, really silly teacher in other ways (uh, I learned not to use the word 'bad' to describe myself after one school year). I ask them to respect my knowledge and ability, give them permission to yell at me to stop when I go above their heads, and inform them of the kind of dumb mistakes I will 100% make on a weekly basis (there's inevitably at least two students who I always mix up).

Then we on-purpose practice these things. Teacher speaking too fast or using too complicated words, then getting REALLY excited when someone asks me to stop or to explain. Teacher asking students to switch seats to try to learn their names. Teacher on purpose making mistakes and again getting very pleased when students point out the mistakes--- and, very importantly, teacher pausing to praise (or correct) students as to HOW they are pointing out mistakes.

In the first day, my children know that I am in charge, they know that I respect their opinions/preferences, they know I know I'm human, and they know that not only is it a safe place to speak up, but if they make a mistake that I'll show them the right way to do the same thing.

And all this before they even know my class rules, which are essentially 2 questions ("Does this help me learn? Does it make it difficult for others to learn?"). I mess up, absolutely. But this foundation is one method I can give to adults to adjust to try out if they agree with this but are not sure how to make it work in a balanced way.

I think adults should stop demanding obedience from children and should start focusing on requesting respect. That’s what will actually serve them in the adult world and help them make good decisions mindfully.

[romanarose]

My favs of 2024!

Hi guys! While this list wont be as extensive I wanted to highlight some of my favorite stories I've read this year!!!

If your story isn't on it please don't fret. 1. I simply have not read as much, and ive taken a heavy veer into the x men fandom 2. if i read yours and its not here, frankly, my memory is shit. Thats a me thing not you. you are all so wonderful! This is just a handful of highlights <3

TLOU, Star Wars, Mojave, X-men, Triple Frontier

Joel Miller

Rolly Polly : by @toxicanonymity Part of her raider!au, this cute little piece has stuck with me for months. Even did a lil drawing of it. Nice little comfort piece

Saving what was lost: Im so behind on this but a comforting fic dealing with sexual trauma by @mermaidgirl30

Devotion: Cult!leader joel! I havnt finished yet but i put my name on it! If you like Rooms on Fire, check this out! @noxturnalnymph

Tommy Miller

Bad blood: Stepdad!tommy and step uncle!joel. For all my Tommy girlies out there, if you ever wanted to make a good man break this is your chance. by @aurorawritestoescape

Jack Jackson and Tom (Mojave)

Done with you: GAY GAY GAY GAY!!!!!! A little one shot with gay sex <3 by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Jake Lockley

I don't dance: For my pride even, this cute little male reader one shot is so nice and soft <3 by @ivystoryreader

Din Djarin

Never say never: Pride even again! nonbinary reader representation which we need now more than ever. by @djarinmuse

Santiago Garcia

Catch that buzz: excellent smut by @for-a-longlongtime !!!! made for the pride event as well, my friend here really knows how to write smut that feels so hot and so real.

X-men

(Everything is on ao3. I have one writer here that is now a pal of mine i can tag on tumblr but if anyone happens to know any of the authors of the other stories, feel free to tag them and ill credit! for now, I'll be linking the ao3.)

Poolverine

Until you get sick of me, honestly by @3koboldsinahoodie ongoing series dealing with Logan and Wade getting together delicious slow burn with great smut pay off, and sooooo much lore to learn.

Void: Bit of a mindfuck. After the time ripper, logan gains some of wades 4th wall abilities.... he isnt taking it well.

Logurt

More than genetics: the fic that turned Logurt from a ship to my otp. Logan rescues Kurt from captivity, gay mutant roadtrip! cannot rec enough

Years do not equal experience: Logan and Kurts first time, Logan is more nervous than Kurt despite being the one topping.

Friends: Logan and Kurt explore their "friendship"

Kurt wagners problem: Kurts got a scent kink <3

Blue and Yellow: JUST FINISHED YESTERDAY! Like,t he writer completed it yesterday!!!! Logan helps kurt escape a dangerous ring, and go to the school.

The Tramp and the Vagabond: MORE GAY MUTANT ROAD TRIP! Logan helps kurt, taking him to the school. Kurt is shakey and secretive, but so is logan.

Logan/Remy

Not all who wander are lost : my current read!!! im INHALING its so good. Remy is a young street mutant living of theft and some prostitution. Logan, being logan, quickly becomes attached to the vulnerable kid and tries to help him.

Remy/Kurt

Sins of the flesh: remy kurt smut, a little catholic guilt on the side, yum yum for me, the guilest ex catholic out there.

Thank you to all you amazing writers!!! Many of these stories in the x men section are 10 + years old and i bet the writers would get a kick if we all left a bunch of nice comments (i always try to bc i know how much it meants)

Its been a rough year, for me, my country, and for the world. Thank you for giving me stories to escape into <3

[bimboficationblues]

one thing that I think typifies bad or ill-conceived comic book opinions: the idea of a character being "out of character." this is not a purely audience problem; by emphasizing historical continuity and the relationship between the texts, Big 2 Comics invite you to think about their characters as though they possess a contiguous identity through all or most of their appearances. this is most evident in Spider-Man where the 2007 decision to keep Peter Parker locked in perpetual stasis infuriated fans so bad that you can't talk about contemporary Spider-Man anywhere without people malding. (that was not the only factor behind said malding.)

but, my point is comic characters only really have the appearance of unity or identity; all the different incarnations of Batman over the years from different writers and artists are really just different characters wearing the same collection of symbols as skin, with different emphases and additions or subtractions, and it's how those symbols get combined and new elements are introduced - and how those speak to the reader - that makes or breaks a good Batman story. the paranoiac thug, the man with a plan for everything, the urban myth, the jetsetting detective, the incarnation of everlasting grief, the one that is George W. Bush, the one who takes a bunch of Joker juice and becomes The Debil, they're all real and what lands or doesn't will probably depend on other, higher aesthetic priorities, what the representation *says*.

another comic opinion: the idea of a "love letter to a character" or whatever is not an inherently virtuous trait of a comic. superhero characters are not like inherently interesting, they are interesting for like, their ability to mix genres in a dynamic way, and for what they say and represent about us, for the philosophies and irrationalities that they conjure in us. something like Waid and Samnee's Daredevil or Ewing and Bennett's Immortal Hulk or Morrison/Quitely on All-Star Superman, I think go beyond just expanding or exploring a mythos and touch on bigger and resonant emotional ideas (depression and optimism, the social meaning of rage, mortality and legacy and symbolic aspiration). I don't think every comic can or should be on that level, and there is respect to be found in stuff that isn't that, but just fixating on the character's in-universe features at the expense of their symbolic, resonant qualities, what they communicate to and about us, is a missed chance.

another comic opinion: over-fixation on writers. comics are a visual medium with a relatively low barrier to entry as reader or creator and this is what distinguishes them from other narrative mediums. one thing that the best of shonen manga excel at while Anglo-American comics flounder is their visuals. there are artists who are willing to play with the Anglo-American form but there's a lot who are just doing swagless versions of Jim Lee and Bryan Hitch.

it's very noticeable to me that the Absolute and Ultimate books that have been the most successful have been those that have really distinct visual styles, a lot of dynamism or expression, and really talented colorists working with top-notch artists (Marco Checchetto, Peach Momoko, Nick Dragotta, Hayden Sherman, and although he's very much in house style I really love the character expressions and vibrancy of Juan Frigeri's Ultimates - despite being understated it has a real energy to it).

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

sam (of course) + ☠ and/or ∇

Headcanon meme

☠ - angry/violent headcanon - especially S5 onwards Sam is terrified of his own anger. Even in later seasons he still thinks of himself as an inherently angry person. He internalised it so bad. He actively works to suppress any feelings of anger, and any that make it through (the few times he expresses anger at Dean like when he found out he killed Amy, or re anything with Gadreel) make him feel violently sick afterwards. As time goes on he lets more and more things slide partly because he's afraid of upsetting Dean, but also because he's afraid of his own emotions. The only times in later seasons he really lets himself feel anger is on behalf of others (for instance Magda).

Sam has a very complicated relationship with violence. Expert compartmentalizer that he is he manages most of the time to view the violence he partakes in as a necessary tool. But he is aware of the dissonance of his desperate desire for safety. Partly this ties into his feelings towards his own anger in that he tries never to enact violence out of anger. Soulless of course didn't have any problem with this - all violence was neutral to him - simply a means to an end. And that complicates Sam's feelings too - because its important to him that even when he's stuffing the violence into a neat little box, that somewhere deep down he feels guilt for it, and it scares him that some part of himself is capable of not feeling that. And he's also aware that feeling guilt doesn't actually make anything better, it doesn't make him a better person if he shot someone but felt bad about it. But it matters to him anyway. When he finally gets out he does keep his gun, because he'll never quite feel safe without it, but he keeps it locked away and never gets it out. He hates that something he spent so much of his life trying to get away from - that leaving it behind was supposed to be the way to safety - ends up being a crutch for his ability to feel safe outside of the life. ∇ -. old age/aging headcanon - I'll be real I don't think I'll ever top this answer (that little fic you liked that I wrote about Sam and aging - was actually an answer for this meme many moons ago).

Buuut here's one that is more canon-compliant with Sam's actual ending. Sam's greatest fear re ageing is anything like dementia. Genuinely keeps him up at night. Prior to the finale he never thought about it too much because he really wasn't sure he'd live long enough for it to be an issue. But it plagues him once he's settled into his life on the outside, and especially once he has DJ.

[kays-brains]

(I'm not a hardcore ghostie but)I want to quickly note that in the community bad has never been treated like an actual person with boundaries. Like, when the entire dream smp community hated him for trying to make the prime path harder to explode(i get it was ugly, obsidian never looks good but the backlash should NOT have been that bad). In the qsmp it was such a breath of fresh air to see him be appreciated by people. One of the moments that had made me cry had been when the other members made him an appreciation room where they had all said nice things, given him a crown, etc. I cried SO much that day, it felt so nice to see people actually say thank you or be nice to him. and I'm NOT saying qsmp didn't have some icky moments, the election era made me have to stop watching live because I get an icky feeling when I see people unwilling to communicate with each other/ let people actually speak. AND THE GRIEFING ON HIS HOUSE OUGHH PAIN. it's less that I'm mad, I'm truly just really exhausted.

(Also wanna note that I aknowledge that bad is an adult with the ability to handle his own problems, I just also like funky streamer times with silly eggs and you're allowed to dissagree with any of my points because these people talk behind the scenes n stuff i just hate miscommunicatiom as a trope and generally)

I wouldn't call myself a Ghostie exactly but I've been around since 2020 and I think we need to talk in detail about how Bad has been legitimately used and abused by the Dr*m Team. Especially now that he's making more noticeable moves to get the hell away from them.

Given I'm just on the outskirts of his community, my only starting points are their weird obsession with constantly threatening and joking about harming his dog (like during Jackboxes back in the day), and giving him 0 credit or acknowledgement for hosting the DSMP server.

But there is so so so so so so much more and I want this post to be a sounding board for the hardcore Ghosties who are sick of watching their guy get treated like shit constantly.

Go ahead and use this post to air them out, guys.

[tobiasdrake]

How would you write Majin Boo and Yamcha in the Tournament of Power, instead of Roshi and 17?

Honestly, Buu would be pretty game-breaking. I can't really conceive of any reason why Buu wouldn't absorb Jiren and anticlimactically waste everybody else fighting in the tournament.

As the be-all end-all final villain of Dragon Ball, Buu's ability to just eat whoever's stronger than him and gain their power for himself is completely busted. It makes it very difficult to write him into scenarios where he is a struggling underdog trying to compete with a superior foe.

Which is probably why Super snubs him so much. This is a character who has near limitless regeneration on top of the ability to turn every single fighter in the tournament into candy and he can just absorb everybody who's stronger than him whenever he runs into a brick wall. That's great for an overpowered villain that we need to find some way to beat, but terrible for a protagonist who needs to be challenged.

Like. It cannot be understated how devastating Buu's Candy Beam would be here. He can spread it over a wide area. He could literally step out onto that stage and Gobstopper every fighter from every universe simultaneously.

And sure, some of them would be able to Universe's Strongest Jawbreaker that shit. But it's still kind of purpose-defeating if like 80% of the assembled fighters are KO'd in the first three seconds. Buu just waves his antenna and erases anyone who isn't Power Levels enough to compete with Vegetto? Okay, man. There go all the fun fights for the weaker characters. Buh-bye.

Even then, if they aren't allowed to fly, like... how are they supposed to fight now? Is Gobstopper Jiren just supposed to spend the rest of the arc rolling into other gobstoppers super hard to ping them off the field?

Actually, that sounds amazing. XD

But in an AU capacity, not in a "This is seriously the plot of the show" capacity.

I don't think Toriyama would have kept Buu around if he wasn't planning on closing the book on Dragon Ball shortly after. Buu joining the supporting cast is very much a "Fuck it, we're done anyway" decision that the series is now paying for, and its solution is to just... find ways to conveniently kick him out of the cast over and over again.

Going into the Tournament of Power... Like, right from the get-go, Buu is going to be nerfed by the rules of the tournament. He can't eat people. That would probably be how you get around the "Buu just deletes half the tournament roster" problem.

He's just. He's not allowed to use his powers. Sorry. Buu has to fight with one hand behind his back. Dem's the rules.

I don't know if he would actually abide by that rule. He might just end up disqualified after eating Toppo. Buu is a selfish, impulsive hedonist who reflexively lashes out at authority. He's just gonna do whatever he wants and let the chips fall where they may.

But if Mr. Satan tells him not to eat anyone, he... probably won't eat anyone? Might still Candy Beam them though. Turning them all into marbles and rolling them off the stage would technically be within the terms of a "NO EATING PEOPLE" restriction.

Buu's crowd control options are bad for the narrative integrity of a battle royale. Even right now, I'm trying to figure out how he could be involved and still having to write around his powerset rather than being able to incorporate and challenge it to its fullest.

I don't know. It's honestly difficult to incorporate him in a way that would be respectful and utilize him in interesting ways without letting him dominate and break the plot.

I think he could work as the villain of another universe's story. Have Buu take the field as the threat that's gonna carry us to victory until fighters from another universe find a way to team up and take him down.

But for the life of me, I can't get around, "Why doesn't he just Candy Beam the entire arena?"

...

As for Yamcha, I probably wouldn't write him into the Tournament of Power. Yamcha quit during the Cell arc and I'm entirely happy to let him. If I was writing Yamcha in Super, probably the only thing I'd do with him is properly introduce his new girlfriend from the end of the Cell Games.

Put an actual name and a face to her, so the fandom can stop ignoring her existence when they complain that Bulma condemned Yamcha to die alone and unloved.

I mean, I'd pick Yamcha over Roshi, to be sure. I feel like the series has forgotten that the Muten-Roshi isn't Goku's "One True Master" or anything like that. Goku has a lot of respect for the man who set him on his path, and he wears the Kame-senryu dogi out of that respect. But he learned everything Roshi had to teach him and left him in the dust long ago, a fact that made Roshi proud.

That story is over. The Muten-Roshi is a 300-year-old man who just wants to enjoy his retirement. Stop trying to make him relevant again! And also just. In general. Stop trying to make "Goku the wide-eyed pupil" happen again. It's done. He's a master now. Let him be a master.

Lotta beefs with DBS.

But yeah, while I agree with the criticism of "Why Roshi and not Yamcha", it's only to the extent that going with Yamcha is still kicking the can down the road. I cannot conceive of a single way that Yamcha's character or the story would be enriched by the Tournament of Power, that wouldn't just feel like hollow fanservice.

"Yamcha got to WIN A FIGHT AGAINST SOMEONE. This one's for you, Yamcha stans! Okay, he's done, someone punt this dipshit off the stage."

Which. To be fair. A lot of the ToP is hollow fanservice. I... did not like that arc very much. Or DBS as a whole, for that matter. So I'm probably not the guy to figure out the best way to utilize characters in it.

But for me, I'd be more interested in a proper Yamcha epilogue that closes out his character on a satisfying note and sends him off, than in desperately trying to drag Yamcha back into the game and shackling him into a status quo he already respectfully bowed out of.

[coraniaid]

Actually, on reflection, I think I'm persuaded that the "poor Willow is a magical junkie now and it's not her fault :(" subplot in Season 6 is, contrary to what I've said before, actually the worst multi-episode subplot on Buffy.

Say what you like about the other two contenders for that honor: the non-mystery of "is Giles really the First Evil and why hasn't anyone thought to check yet?" or the banality of "shall we engage seriously with the fact Spike has a soul now and how that might change him as a person, or shall we just say that a mean ghost hypnotized him?". But neither of those plots involve a woman telling her significant other (and I am really not paraphrasing much at all here) "I don't like that you used magic to violate my mind and rob me of my ability to consent to our relationship, because it's not good for you".

Moreover:

While the two Season 7 subplots are both pretty bad and boring to watch and are certainly part of why I don't enjoy that season, I don't think removing or somehow rewriting either of them would automatically make the season much better. By contrast, the Willow subplot of Season 6 is the worst thing about that season -- one which I think otherwise had a lot of potential and is arguably the most ambitious season the show ever did -- and fixing it would improve the season as a whole a lot.

The Willow subplot also takes up a lot more of the show overall than the two Season 7 subplots do. Giles as the First is a complete waste of everyone's time, but it's also fully resolved in less than half a dozen episodes (we first get the fake out that Giles might be dead in Never Leave Me, the ninth episode of the season, and we see that he isn't in The Killer In Me, the thirteenth episode). The Spike hypnotic trigger lasts a lot longer, but it still over within about half a season. But the Willow subplot dominates most of Season 6 and also continues to have ramifications for WIllow's character development (or lack thereof) for the rest of the show.

It's easy, I think, to understand why the writers resorted to the two Season 7 plots. They needed some excuse for Buffy's friends to not trust Spike, but for various reasons are committed to the idea that having a soul means Spike himself is now inherently Good and Blameless and so the reasons not to trust him can't be related to anything he's ever chosen to do himself, it has to be something done to him against his will. And the writers obviously stopped caring about Giles as a character with any sort of inner life the very minute ASH asked to be partially written out of the show so he could move back to England. I honestly don't believe the writers were capable of writing good subplots for either Giles or Spike by this point, even if they'd tried. But the Willow subplot comes out of nowhere and completely derails what was going to be a really interesting story line about Willow that the show had been patiently building towards since at least Season 3 and arguably even longer.

More broadly, both the Season 7 plots are bad in part because they are attempts to make the First -- previously a forgettable monster of the week whose primary powers included 'making people who have done bad things feel suitably bad' and 'not being able to touch anything'; a plot device which Buffy herself already rightly dismissed as all talk all the way back in Season 3 ("I get it. You're evil. Do we have to chat about it all day?"). Of course they're not successful attempts: there's no way to make the First as menacing and important as the writers wish it was. Being annoyed at the way they fail almost seems like missing the point.

Most importantly, I can more cheerfully ignore the two Season 7 subplots because I don't really care about either Spike or Giles at this point of the show's run. But I like Willow, so it bothers me more that she's subjected to all this dreadfully bad writing and that her character never really quite recovers from it.

[all-pacas]

i think fandom tends to overestimate chase's imprinting on house a bit -- not to say it didn't happen, because it absolutely did, but it wasn't an immediate thing. it wasn't even a season one thing. chase in s1 really doesn't care much about house - he likes him, he thinks house is funny, he dresses like him, but his loyalty is still ultimately (always) to himself: he sells out house to vogler. s1 chase knows he's lowest ranked in the office, knows he's the least favorite. this doesn't bother him much: not to say it doesn't bother him at all, but we don't see chase try to rectify it or change it. cameron is the office asskisser, not him: where she agrees with everything house says and refuses to doubt him or believe he's an addict (even going so far as to declare her loyalty as a reason house shouldn't fire her in heavy); chase has no problem disagreeing with house or snarking about him, falling in the middle of the extremes of cameron's blind loyalty and foreman's cynicism.

chase likes house. that's not in question: he says so himself in sports medicine. but not more than himself. not more than his career.

you know when this starts to change? i can tell you, thanks to stacy. kids. at the end of s1.

chase sells house out to vogler. and he gets away with it. sure, house gives him shit, but chase isn't fired, isn't unduly punished. house even says to wilson and cameron that he understands (and is in a way fine with) chase doing so: he wanted the team to protect their jobs, to want to work for him, and chase fucking protected his job. (we see this in s5 with taub, and in s8, even, with 13: house doesn't want his employees distracted or half-hearted.) but consider it from chase's perspective. he did a Bad Thing. his reputation takes a hit, foreman holds it against him for a long time, and he grew up with daddy issues and neglect and never being good enough, doing everything he was told and being ignored and forgotten and punished. chase decided he'd rather house hate him than not work for house (insane!), but house doesn't hate him. he isn't punished. he is allowed to have fucked up and move on.

you know what else happens right around now? according to stacy: the mistake. right as chase is getting bullied for vogler, his dad dies, and he kills a patient, and you know what happens? nothing. house doesn't punish him. house covers for him. when chase fucked up the angio house considered firing him; chase does something infinitely worse and house doesn't do anything. later, in the mistake proper, house even helps him. offers to support him, go with his lie if chase wants. again: when has chase had that. when has he ever had the ability to make mistakes and fuck up and not get punished for it. he never wanted to be a doctor: his father wanted him to. he never wanted to raise his sister and nurse his mother: his father forced him to. house lets chase fuck up and doesn't hold it against him. he is probably the first person chase has ever known who has done that.

and so in s2 chase gets his lapdog reputation. and in s3 he doesn't even consider ratting to tritter. and in s8 he'd rather quit medicine than work for anyone else, anywhere else. chase didn't start being that loyal. but once house won it, boy did it pay dividends.