#cause honestly who likes him

[bacchuschucklefuck]

forgot to specify on firearm possession when he posted that job ad

[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[jessmalia]

stiles and malia playlist: my boy only breaks his favorite toys by taylor swift

there was a litany of reasons why we could've playеd for keeps this time i know i'm just repeating myself put me back on my shelf but first, pull the string and i'll tell you that he runs because he loves me (he loves me) cause you should've seen him when he first saw me

[captainjonnitkessler]

Someday the "if you still read Harry Potter fanfic you are LITERALLY funding transphobia" crowd is going to realize that Brandon Sanderson tithes to the Mormon church and that's probably when I'll just delete my account

[sulky-cabbage]

Based on this I headcanon that he can see Sukuna's true form with his six eyes

For my own sanity I refuse to believe he died without seeing it.

And it would explain why he was doing this shit

He was feeling extra horny

That first pic is crazier than I remember what the hell!! there were definitely some go.yuu shippers in the studio 😭

Whenever he does it Sukuna is always the topic too lmao

Actual True Form Sukuna would NOT have survived Gojo I'm TELLING YOU!!

Shonen jump can't handle that kind of "fight"

It's funny because if he can actually see him, then he was just having a staring contest with Sukuna here while Yuji was asleep. asjfgdhdjjsk

Imagine being Sukuna and you finally reincarnate after a thousand years, but you're trapped in this body you can't control and can't understand WHY?!! then this strong guy comes and gives you the first ass beating of your life

then he binds the hands of the body you're in and drags you inside this candle let room.

He has a crazy amount of cursed energy and he keeps staring at you with his freaky eyes from under the blindfold for god knows how long.

and then he suddenly smashes your finger into the wall and keeps talking about how you're gonna be executed asjdjdkskks

I bet he was talking to Sukuna and annoying the fuck out of him while yuji was asleep too lmao

[theshadowrealmitself]

Ideal Peter Parker getting to full on mentor Miles Morales for me is Peter, who has been keeping his identity a secret from everyone for years, giving Miles absolutely wild advice on how to hide his identity and sounding like he’s super overthinking everything

And then Miles meets like,, Nick Fury, or someone else who really wants to know Spidey’s identity, and it turns out to all be really rational advice because there are people out there going to great lengths to find out his identity

(So yeah, sorry Miles, but you are gonna have to figure out how to manufacture your own spray paint if you wanna use any as Spidey because they will try to use that to figure out who you are)

[dykedvonte]

I think it’s so ironic that the Pony Express escapes a lot if not all blame in discussion. I can’t even say I am excused from it but it’s just how hard people circle back to the characters alone without considering the environment they were made to be in.

Why would they design a ship where only two of the rooms lock? Not the bathroom? Not the sleeping quarters? We assume that all the companies in the universe are this shallow and careless to their workers but we explicitly know the Pony Express in extra vile. They are fed processed slop pack they can’t even really cook and the ration of those pack is meager at best. They hired and made people with a plethora of conflicting demeanors and beliefs work together on a mission where cohesion is important if not an outright necessity and punish them for not being happy about it. There’s no social protocols, not chain of command other than Captain’s word/choice and the only way to enforce that is with a literal firearm. They don’t allow them to celebrate freely and even took away leisure activities that would make them less stir crazy. They are only allowed a few hours of sleep despite their being no other real responsibilities or work on the ship, no matter the position or its importance. With any crew, with any level of synergy, this was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

I’m not saying characters that made mistakes didn’t make huge ones, but I think part of the horror is that at least for some (this is targeting Jimathan) those mistakes are partly made by a force of the hand. There’s a running theme of lack of choice and being forced into something and the very nature of how The Pony Express expected them to function plays a big part.

[floralovebot]

i know there are only like five of us but i feel like garth stans really don't talk enough about how left out he feels with the titans. dick and wally are Best Friends. donna and roy are on and off again. dick and donna are too much to explain. on average, roy is close with at least one of dick's siblings. dick donna and wally all go on to be in the new teen titans. garth isn't Close with any other titans but the originals

and it's this thing where,,, it's not his Fault yknow? he's not mean or spiteful or creepy or anything that would warrant them not liking him as much. he joins in on their jokes, he risks his life, he shares his feelings, he does everything that he knows friends do. but just the virtue of him being atlantean and them being land dwellers ruins everything. he Can't spend more time with them, he doesn't understand their culture, he will always choose atlantis.

they'll always be his friends but he can never truly be with them or form deeper bonds. he'll always be the last one to know what's going on, the last one they call, a complete shadow and afterthought.

and sure there's a part of him that knows this, that feels bitter and lonely. but he can't even be that mad at them because he does the same thing. the titans are never his first thought, he never calls them first, he doesn't reach out and ask if they're okay, they're always the last ones to know what happened to him. the titans are such a huge part of his life but they're barely in it.

there's just something so inherently lonely about garth that i feel most dc writers don't understand. they just don't get it. they don't get what it's like for this boy who was all alone, never had parents or a family, suddenly being taken in and having to act like he knows how to be a son, a friend, a partner. meeting kids his own age and wanting to bond with them so bad, having to watch as they all get closer to each other and leave him behind, not being able to do anything about it. never being taken seriously, always the last choice... garth man.....

[koszmarnybudyn]

Little (mostly) Cecil doodle page, cause brain images are wierd.

[plaid-maniac]

Do you ever think about how there totally could have been an old classmate of Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth in the audience during like turnabout sister or turnabout samurai. Do you think they would realize? Like “hey, were those the guys in my class in like fourth grade? I kinda remember them. Wonder if they remember each other. But it was so long ago, I doubt they would even care.” Meanwhile Edgeworth and Phoenix are undergoing the most insane mental battles where both of them are going “I recognize my best friend across the courtroom and I desperately want to be close with them again.” And “god he is so god damn annoying I wish he would die already.”

[karmicpunishment]

the conflict in me between wanting the funny option for ace's dream (ace as the dormhead) vs the emotional option (ace dreaming about the prefect staying in twisted wonderland)

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[ssentimentals]

next to you {jeon wonwoo}

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

prompt: 'i won't give up on you' (this work is part of my 1k event, go check out other works of mine here)

warnings: none, this is pure fluff!

steady. this is what wonwoo appreciates the most about you. waves can come crushing, thunder can roll over with a shout, but your resilience doesn't waver even for a second. wonwoo appreciates consistency (something that not a lot of people can manage) in your actions and behaviours; you amaze him in that way. when you two were introduced to each other, from the very day one you appeared to be kind and respectful and after two years nothing changed. you were constantly good and it took him embarrassing amount of time to realize that his awe with you has a romantic undertone. that your constant occupation of his thoughts was not due to you two being good friends. that his desire for your steady presence went beyond what one feels for another in platonic relationships. you were good and you were steady and jeon wonwoo selfishly wanted it all for himself.

he often wondered if you ever felt heavy. caring so much for people around you, having to be the rock for them to lean on, always being responsible for everything and everyone. he often wondered if you find all these things to be burdensome, if you ever just want to let go and give away those responsibilities. do you really want it? he wants to ask when you volunteer to be a leader. do you need help? he wants to ask when you brush off someone else's worries about you. do you feel lonely? he wants to ask when you stay up late all on your own. wonwoo goes tongue-tied and instead of asking those questions, he settles for quietly being next to you. he may not offer the right words, but he can take care of you in his own ways; little ways, yes, but no less meaningful.

'woo?' you look up in surprise, when his figure casts a shadow on your table. 'what are you doing here?' taking a look over your shoulder at the clock on the wall, you glance back at him with a frown. 'it's one am.'

'i can ask you the same thing. it is one am, what are you doing in the library?'

he smiles at the way you stare at him indignantly. 'i need to finish our group project, deadline for submission is tomorrow morning.'

of course you are the one finishing this project. of course you are the one who's sitting in the library at one am, fixing presentation, going over slides, checking everything. wonwoo is part of your group and he takes small relief in the fact that his part is polished and you won't spend much time on it. 'and i brought sandwiches,' wonwoo puts his backpack on the chair and pulls out few wrapped chicken sandwiches from there. they're still warm and he smiles happily, putting two right in front of you. 'fuel for brains, so you'd finish this up faster.'

smile that you send his way leaves him in ruins. 'thank you, woo.'

wonwoo nods. he gives you an excuse that he'll go and bring you two tea but in reality he needs a breather, because you don't control the force of your smiles and you have no idea what they do to him. he massages lightly left side of his chest where heart is supposed to be and sighs, settling for two cups of green tea in cafeteria. he wishes... for a lot, actually, but at most he just wants to be next to you. he assigned to himself this role of your friend, because even the rock on who everybody leans on will someday need to lean on someone else. wonwoo lives in futile hopes that maybe he'll be there at that moment. maybe you'll see something else in him, something apart from just a fellow classmate or a good friend. maybe you'll look at him in that moment and will see all of his devotion and his readiness to just..stay here and not leave. stay right next to you.

'your tea is ready.'

he takes steaming cups and carefully makes his way back to the library. wonwoo sometimes thinks that you know. that you are aware of his feelings towards you and just pretend not to notice so it won't complicate your friendship. sometimes he thinks that maybe you don't know for sure but that you have an inkling, a guess. option in which you have no idea about his feelings is not on the table, because you are very attentive and his special treatment for you could not have escaped your gaze. he doesn't really know nor understand reasons for your silence regarding his feelings, but he doesn't question them. what you two have now is good and steady and it's almost enough. something tells him that this situation will resolve itself without his direct involvement and he follows his inner voice, not confessing.

wonwoo looks up from the stairs and notices you standing at the entrance to the library, waving to him with a smile on your face. you look tired and bags under your eyes grow more and more prominent with each passing day, but he still finds it hard to look away from you, still can stare at you all day and night and find it incredibly entertaining. 'figured you'd need help with the door,' you say lightly, gesturing to his occupied hands. holding door open for him, you take a peak at the cups, smiling: 'green tea? you're saviour, woo.'

your words settle against him like a warm blanket, like a much needed hug. there's no one in the library apart from you two but you both still keep quiet, voices hushed and low by a habit. 'is there a lot left? in presentation, i mean.'

'not much, around 5-6 slides,' you help him by taking one cup from his hands. 'why are you here, woo? i don't think you came at this hour to the library to give me sandwiches.'

but i did though. wonwoo first thinks he'll judge dodge the question but his sleep deprived mind refuses to come up with anything, so instead he lets out a rather provocative: 'is it really that hard to believe that i came exactly for that?'

he knows it's a wrong thing to say the second words leave his mouth. you don't meet his eyes and everything in your posture screams tension. it's too late to take the words back, so wonwoo lives few horrible seconds with knowledge of his own fuck up. you're not helping the situation by staying silent, so he blurts out the truth: 'i just want to help.'

at this you look up, raising your right eyebrow. 'help with presentation?'

'no,' he answers honestly because apparently his brain has a trouble with letting him say anything but the truth. 'although if you need help with that then of course i'll help.'

you lean back, staring at him with a quiet challenge in your eyes. there's determination set deep in your features and he loves you for it, for your ability to push forward even when you're uncomfortable, for your constant need to get to the bottom of something. 'if you're here to not help with presentation then with what?'

you know the answer just like he knows the answer. you're almost daring him to say it, challenging him and wonwoo usually never raises to the bait, but this doesn't feel like one, not really. he mostly feels like this is some kind of test only you know the meaning of and he has to pass it. 'to help you,' he says, looking straight into your eyes. 'someone has to.'

words hit too close to home, it's obvious by the way your jaw locks and how you bite your bottom lip. your eyes water and your voice cracks in the end as you ask: 'and you think i need help? do i look like someone who needs help?'

venom in your voice doesn't deter him. wonwoo knows you too well, he learned to circle those high walls you built, he managed to climb on top of them all during these two years and he knows your defensive mechanisms as back of his hand. 'everyone needs help,' he says, staying elusive but answering your question at the same time. 'and everyone needs someone to take care of them. including you.'

you're barely holding your tears back, he can tell. he wishes you wouldn't. he wishes you'd cry freely in front of him, wishes you'd find his presence comforting enough to let go. 'asking for help and leaning on someone does not make you weak,' he continues in a hushed whisper that pierces your heart like an arrow. 'knowing your limits is a sign of maturity. you can't do everything on your own, that's stupid and reckless. and you're neither of these things.'

this gains him a small smile from you and a watery laugh. few tears escape your eyes and you quickly wipe them off without turning away. small victories, he guesses. 'that was a nice ted talk,' you mumble, taking a deep breath to calm down. your eyes are full with unshed tears when you look back at him again. 'and? is that you saying that you are the one who will help me and take care of me?'

wonwoo licks his lips. 'i like to think that this is what i've been doing for the past year at least.'

you lock your arms over your chest, shutting off from him. 'as a friend. with no ulterior motives, i hope.'

'you know that there were none.' wonwoo holds his voice steady even if he is offended by your words. he knows you don't mean them that way, knows it's just another test. 'don't insult me like that.'

your expression crumbles and you hide your face behind your hands in a loose attempt of not showing him your tears. your shoulders shake a little but you quickly regain control of yourself back, sniffling. 'i'm sorry,' you say and then repeat again, clearing your voice: 'i'm sorry, you are right, i know that there were none. i don't know why i said that, i'm sorry. it's just-' you take a deep breath, curling into a little ball on the chair. '-i think you don't..know me? like you know one version of me and you think so highly of me and in truth i..' you look over your laptop and then back at wonwoo. 'i hate it all. i hate being a leader, and i hate having to finish all these stupid presentations and-'

you fall silent and wonwoo lets silence linger in the air between you two, not saying anything too. he's not surprised at all, because he knew all of it. he just hopes you feel better saying it all out loud. 'tea is getting cold,' he says quietly after a while.

you blink out of your thoughts at his worsd and huff, remembering about your cup. maybe it's the wrong move to say something right now, but wonwoo fears there might never been another night like this, so he goes for it: 'i don't think anything less of you. you can say a lot of things like that and they don't make you a monster that you're really trying to make me see in you. i won't give up on you. even if you decide to tell everyone to fuck off and ask someone else to lead, even if you decide it's time for you to turn into a hermit. i'll stay right next to you anyway. because you are a good person. core of you, base of you is good. your heart is pure gold and i'll stand by it no matter what.'

that's my confession, he thinks, staring at your wide eyes. my love confession to you. and he knows you understand. he knows from your wide opened eyes that you know it was a love confession. all you can do is accept or reject it and he is fine with both options, truly. as long as he can stand next to you, like a friend or like a lover, he is fine with it all.

'i never- i had a feeling, but i never entertained the thought that it actually might be true...' you whisper, cicling edge of the cup with your finger. 'you always took care of me.'

'i did.' wonwoo agrees, because it is true.

'and you will take care of me in the future even if i decide to just stay friends.'

it was not a question but wonwoo still answers: 'i will.'

your smile is an eighth wonder of this world. it can stop the rain and can make flowers bloom in wonwoo's heart. you lean in with a decision taken: 'then please, stand next to me, just like you said. not as a friend, but...' you reach out with an open palm towards him. 'as a lover.'

wonwoo has never made a decision faster in his life. your hand feels soft and nice and right in his. he doesn't have to say anything, everything can be understood from the way he looks at you. by your reddening cheeks he can tell that you also got everything. 'let's eat those sandwiches and i'll need fifteen minutes more for this presentation. then we'll go back to the dorms, okay?'

wonwoo simply nods, interlacing your fingers together. as you squeeze his fingers back with an reassuring smile, he thinks that he'll be okay with anything you ask. 'okay,' he still voices out, smiling. okay.

a/n: i'm unexplainably in love with this work. is it weird to say stuff like that about something you wrote? anyways, this is very self indulgent but i hope you liked it too. <3 - nini

tagging @prpldahy and @wonvsmile as it was your request <3

[youling-the-ghost]

After Johnny's future dreams being an allegory for mental health we have: Peter Steven's height being an allegory for physical disabilities.

Peter wasn't chosen to be born tall, he had no control over it. And yet he has to walk on his knees and pretend like he's normal just because his mum is embarrassed of him. He's sorry he was born this way, but why does he have to suffer because of it? Why is he being punished for something out of his control and why is he being forced to hide an integral part of who he is? Is there something wrong with him? There must be something wrong with him, why else would mum look at him with shame in her eyes? The guilt is suffocating, but Peter did nothing wrong. He was just born with something out of his control.

[floorpancakes]

ok but im rly into the idea of till having a new era that brings the light back to his eyes and drives him forward if he gets to escape the arena. idk where he'd go from there but i want to see ivans sacrifice both haunt him and drive him to actually live his damn life after being the captured bird refusing freedom cause of mizi. once he knows she's alive with the resistance he might be able to actually experience other things and widen his world and if that happens and he puts his personal sense of rebellion towards the human cause OR settles into finding some other way to feel fulfilment that isn't a single person that could be deeply fascinating to me i think

[dykedvonte]

Piper and Danse friendship is like the platonic version of that married couple where the husband says nothing and the wife is the chattiest most extroverted person and you cannot imagine how they found each other let alone end up as a pair.

But like he knows her favorites and the one joke, the one time you heard him speak mind you, he made had her dying with laughter cause it was specifically for her. Or she can tell exactly how he’s feeling despite the same expression for every emotion and you swear she made a comment and try corners of his mouth lifted.

Like they are those two that bonded not because they were alike but because they were so different what they did like together made them grow much closer.