#dunno why but it feels too romantic for what actually happened

[melancholiania]

vikjayce kinda won but at like what cost

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, I really liked it and I thought the maidenless board game club headcanons were really fun, I don't know if you've done it for any other club, but if not, I'd like to ask if you could do it for the basketball club if it were possible, it's the club that has some of my favorite characters and I would really like to read :)

[Maidenless Board Game Club headcanons here!]

asdyugagsodoefa Thank you, I'm glad you liked those original headcanons 😅 That post is actually a bunch of ideas I cooked up while talking with a friend. We also talk about the Basketball Club a lot, so here's a compilation of those too. It should be noted that I do not intend to complete this prompt for all of the characters; I'm only posting the Basketball Club content because I happen to have them on hand. Any and all mentions of the reader are meant to be gender neutral; gendered terms may still appear in these headcanons, but never in reference to the reader.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Ace tries to claim his stake as the "cool guy" of the team by bragging about his ex to the older players + acting like some dating god and advice dispenser. They seem none too impressed by him, with some of them (including Floyd) dunking on him for being ganged up on and scolded by a bunch of girls.

He swears to his club mates he can bag someone, he just thinks dating’s way too much trouble so he’s fine by himself, thank you very much! It’s Ace obviously scrambling to salvage his pride and reputation among his peers. (No one believes him.)

During the move-in week to NRC, Ace was out in Foothill Town to buy school supplies. He saw Jamil in casual wear and mistook him as a mature onee-san so he catcalled him. Ace rambled on for a while before Jamil cut him off by informing him that he is a man. This shocked and embarrassed Ace so much that he shut up and scurried away, thankful that the chances of running into Jamil again are slim... until he sees the exact same guy at the Basketball Team tryouts.

Ace has too much pride to back out now, but he also deeply fears that Jamil will obliterate him by sharing their first interaction with the team. Whenever Jamil smirks, Ace gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and dreads what Jamil will say next. It could be the end of his social life at school! (It’s dangled over Ace’s head as collateral to get him to behave; if Ace acts out, Jamil will start to tell the story as a warning.)

If Ace spots a cute spectator at their games, he’ll wink at them, then call out and dedicate his next shot to them. (Bro proceeds to completely whiff the throw; the ball bounces off the rim of the hoop.)

He feels insecure about his masculinity, especially when put next to his senpai who get a lot more attention than he does. Ace tries to mooch off their popularity by claiming he’s a lot closer to them than he actually is or by playing up the role of being “the cute one”, only to be humiliated by Floyd or Jamil’s jeers. “Mmm? Isn’t Crabby the one who called me ‘the worst’ the other day?” / “… ‘Cute’? You? Don’t make me laugh. You’re anything but.”)

Attracts a decent amount of romantic attention (which Ace loudly complains about) but never commits to actively pursuing any relationship in the long term. No one seems to hold his interest long enough--and besides, Floyd's not lookin' to be tied down.

When asked “why do you like them?” or “why are you with them?” Floyd usually responds with a shrug or an answer that’s not too well thought out like, “Uh, cuz they told me they were into me?” or, “I dunno, just felt like it today.”

Frequently pisses potential partners off due to his attitude. Floyd can be fun but he flakes very often, saying he’ll be there one day and then cancelling like an hour before the date. He’s never consistent with anything, and that tests patiences.

Also commits the sin of ghosting people once he loses interest or he feels they’re being too needy. Ace calls him a bastard for that, but Floyd shoots back by reminding Ace he did this to HIS ex too.

There was an incident in which his S/O of like... one weekend's worth of time saw Jade in public and approached him, thinking it was Floyd. Jade did not recognize them but played along just to have fun. The S/O was so offended they stormed off and broke up with Floyd via text. He wasn't bothered at all; he and Jade shared a laugh about it. ("You're equally awful," Jamil had chided them.)

Casually and shamelessly talks about his escapades. Doesn’t care to be tactful with his wording, lays it all out there. Ace is super invested in the gossip whereas Jamil makes it clear he’s disgusted by this use of their club time.

Single because he is legitimately way too busy with school, caring for Kalim, etc. to even entertain the idea of a relationship. Doesn’t need that extra stress right now.

Najma calls him “forever alone” to her friends and jokingly acts all disgusted whenever he acts slightly shy or affectionate towards someone. “Oh my gosh, Jamil…! Are you crushing on them?!” she teases him. “Wow, I never thought I’d see the day where you’d be all lovey-dovey…” Since that first incident, Jamil had vowed to himself to never allow his sister see him in such a vulnerable state.

Due to his flat voice and placid face, Jamil is aware he can come off as cold or disinterested. He makes sure to smile a little and to brighten up his tone when speaking with someone he wants to make a good first impression with--but he's also careful never to get too close, to be too familiar. He must keep polite and professional at all times, lest he bring shame upon his name--or the Asims' name.

Jamil has somehow settled into the position of the "team mom" (not by choice, but due to necessity; who else is going to round up all these idiots?). He's the one bringing snacks, reminding the team to behave and to stay hydrated, tending to injuries with his first aid kit, etc. Ace sometimes makes fun of this and claims "no one wants a second parent for a boyfriend", to which Jamil just rolls his eyes and tells him to stop acting so childish.

The only one with some god damn common sense around here. Jamil listens to the callous way Floyd and Ace treated their exes and shakes his head, sighs, and tells them off. In his head, he talks himself up and claims he isn't so stupid as to make the same mistakes that they did if he were in their shoes. (... Yes, Jamil Viper is his OWN hype man for hypothetical romantic situations 😭)

HE’S SO REPRESSED, HOLY SHIT. Since he can’t feasibly go out and seek a relationship, Jamil settles for daydreams of a peaceful domestic life, traveling Twisted Wonderland together, and other adventures. He’d rather die than share any of these fantasies with his peers.

[amphitriteswife]

Vinny dating HC’s

🏍️ He’s a tsundere okay? He would be stand off-ish with you at first and assume your life is easy because you come from money. Doesn’t have to be the case ofcourse but he’s an asshole so he did assume it

🏍️ will probably ignore you. He’s not someone to reach out first so you probably have to push yourself and actually make an effort. It will feel one sided at first but if he feels that connection he will find himself thinking of you or wondering what you’re up to. He might actually try to find you or reach out first if you stop coming over

🏍️ DON’T call him pet names. He will feel embarrassed and will not do it back. Just call him Vinny or Vin. He’ll call you by your name too. If you do call him pet names and others hear it he will walk away embarrassed. Especially if Minu and Dom will start laughing at him.

🏍️ ‘babe what would you do if i was broke?’ ‘Leave you probably.’ ‘Wow what a shallow gold digger you are.’ ‘It was a joke.’ ‘No its not’ ‘yeah it is’ ‘you’re Vinny. You don’t make jokes.’ ‘Wow. You think so lowly of me?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘….’

🏍️ give him food and he’ll be indebted by you. No more eating ramen every night…he can finally eat a normal meal. Even if you tell him its the most normal thing in the world he’ll be so grateful. Worst thing is that he sees it as a date, so he’ll be extra flustered

🏍️ ‘hey can i ride on your bike?’ ‘No way. I need it for races. Besides you’ll damage it. Or worse you’ll fall and hurt yourself.’ ‘Come onnnnn. I’ll take you out to dinner?’ ‘Deal.’

🏍️ He’ll stop by your school to pick you up. Most of the time he’s either skipping his own school or working so he doesn’t mind coming to your school. If he finds out you go to the same school as Jay and Minu he’ll avoid them. He doesn’t want to be seen as a caring boyfriend

🏍️ if you’re close friends with Minu because of rich parents he’ll lose his shit. He can’t stand Minu so imagine how he would feel if he finds out you two are the best of buddies

🏍️ ‘have you ever realized that if your other eye was blue that you would look like a police siren?’ ‘How does your brain even function in such a way that you think of these thoughts?’ ‘I dunno.’ ‘Sigh’

🏍️ sometimes he gets super insecure. He won’t open up about it either but knowing him it’s easy to guess when that is. If he feels down he starts smoking and being more short than he usually is. He doesn’t want to get angry at you but he sometimes doesn’t realize that he yells at you. He would be too embarrassed to apologize too.

🏍️ he either doesn’t sleep or sleeps a lot. If he smells food he’ll wake up and eat and then sleep again. If you take him to your luxurious house he’ll sleep in your bed and insist on going to your place.

🏍️ he feels vulnerable and embarrassed when he’s with you most of the time. He’s supposed to be mysterious not a hopeless romantic. He thinks the fact you have this effect on him is strange and doesn’t want to talk about it unless necessary. He lost mysterious aura points when he got with you

🏍️ he doesn’t talk a lot and can be very harsh. Also a hot headed temper. So if you’re a yapper he either listens to you or gets annoyed. He would lash out at you. He hopes. But he does think that it balances the two of you out.

🏍️ ‘what would you do if i died like right now.’ ‘…uhm…what?’ ‘Like what if some crackhead shanks me.’ ‘Well i wouldn’t let that happen, but why you asking.’ ‘What if like. A meteorite fell on me.’ ‘I don’t think the chances of that are happening are very high.’ ‘I’ll blame you to be honest’ ‘???’

That’s all i could think about (i’m on chapter 250) 😔🙏

[mitskicodedwukong]

💓 CRUSH 💓 || Triad!Wukong x Reader Oneshot

» crush (ethel cain) « 0:21 ─〇───── 3:20

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝🍑╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗🍑╔⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is reposted from my old account, @nothyenlowz :3 ➤ This is a oneshot. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader is gender neutral (except for one use of "maiden" in reference to you). ➤ This oneshot includes Dragonhead/Triad!Wukong, who is apart of the Triad AU belonging to @/skittlescripts! ➤ This oneshot in based off @/dumplingsjinson's 4th unrequited-but-not-actually-unrequited-love prompt! ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include use of "name" (couldn't avoid it, sorry </3), profanity, denial of feelings, avoidance, lying, self-deprecation, angst, and crying. ➤ Word count: 4,340

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅�� ─────

❝ Camo jacket, robbing corner stores; hard odds to beat when you're on all fours .❞

You didn't want this.

You didn't want this.

It started off innocently enough—a blush when you caught the Great Sage's eye, a bit of a tremble to your voice or your knees when his hand brushed yours, squealing into your pillows when he gave you gifts. Embarrassing reactions, yes, but not surprising. Afterall, whole gods have found themselves swooning for the Monkey King—what chance did your mortal self stand against the demon's wicked charm? But surely your little... celebrity crush didn't mean anything significant.

Except it did.

You barely ever had crushes growing up, much less attractions so passionate you could call them love. But with Wukong, it came far too easily. You loved the way he spoke, the way he held himself, the way he managed to create a community of loyal allies despite his many enemies. But then you also loved the simple things—his real laugh, the one that made him clutch his stomach and cackle until tears were dripping from his eyes; the way his tail swayed like a dog's and curled into a something preciously heart-esque when he was excited; the way he smelt of peaches and flower. You were always finding out new things about him through opportunities presented to you and you alone, as if he was a whole world just for you to—

No!

No, no, no!

This is how the greatest friendships crashed and burned. That initial spark of attraction and a hopeful heart paired with a traitorous brain poisoning you with sweet what-ifs and flowery dreams is all it takes for you to make one irreversible, permanent step; for you to pour your heart out only to hear we can still be friends! and watch him drift away.

Well, not you. You weren't going to risk breaking your heart nor your and Wukong's friendship over a crush, no matter how insistent. So after many sleepless nights of brainstorming, you finally devised a plan to squash your feelings for the Monkey King.

1.) Create distance physically.

You tap your fingers against your thigh anxiously, fighting the urge to scratch angry red blotches into the skin while you wait for Wukong to pick up your call. You thought this method would be easiest for enacting Step 1, assuming Wukong and Macaque wouldn't be able to pick out any lies over the phone. But with how long it's taking him to answer, maybe you were better off just ditching your phone altogether—

"Hey, peaches!" Wukong's cheery voice greets over the line, making you huff in relief. "What's up? You're not calling to ask if you can come up, right? Because you know I've told you you can just come, riiighttt?"

Your heart swoons pathetically, and you have to aggressively remind yourself that hanging out with Wukong is the exact opposite of what you want to achieve.

"Yessss, I remember," you force out in a nasally, cracking voice that you pray sounds convincing. "But no, that's not why I'm calling."

"Oh, peaches, are you sick?" Wukong asks worriedly, and you can feel his furrowed eyebrows through the phone.

"No," you snark, and then you force out some rough-sounding coughs, grimacing at the way your throat stings. "This happens every year. Sometime near spring I get super sick for like a month—might be the pollen or something, I dunno."

"I never noticed," Wukong replies softly. "I'm sorry, peaches. I woulda helped you before if I'd realized."

Your heart flips again and you lean away from the phone to muffle a quiet squeal into your palm before returning. "It's—" cough "—fine. I'm a big girl, a little springtime bug isn't going to kill me. But it is gonna keep me in my house for a few weeks."

"In that case, why don't I let Macaque handle things for a bit and come over—"

"No!" You snap out, your hand immediately smacking over your mouth at the outburst. Fuck! You think, mind racing to recover from your fumble. You let out a series of coughs as you think, then lick your lips. "S-Sorry... while it means a lot that you'd do that for me, when I get like this... it's just easier to handle it alone. I don't really have the energy to be around people or have them around me."

You cross your fingers, your opposite hand gripping your clothes in a white-knuckle grip as a few beats of silence pass. God, let him believe me so I can hang up—

"Alright, peaches," Wukong replies in that same gentle voice, the one that makes you melt like butter, and you have to lean back so he won't hear the relieved puff of air you let out. You're so busy rejoicing you nearly miss what he says next. "But I'm still going to drop food off to you, alright?"

Seeming to sense the coming argument from you, he adds, "I'll just drop it off at your door and send you a message."

You sigh, a small smile forcing it's way on to your face despite the situation still not being as perfect as you'd hoped for. "Guess I can't stop you, sunshine."

"Nope!" Wukong laughs, popping the p. "Get well soon! Who knows what mischief I'll be up to without my angel to keep me on the path of grace?" he coos with a subtle purr to his words. A wild blush blooms on your face, burning your ear tips as you soak in what he said.

"You're supposed to be able to do that on your own, Great Sage," you croak out, burying your flushed face in your unused hand even though the cheeky monkey isn't here to see it.

"What's the fun in that?" Wukong snickers. Then his voice lowers again, squeezing your heart. "But seriously, take care of yourself, peaches. If you need space, that's fine, but if you need help, ask. There's nothing you could do that would chase me away."

What he says is sweet, so sweet, and dream-like. His words make you think of a fairytale, with you a fair maiden and him a brave, persistent, dragon-slaying knight.

But life's not a fairytale, and things won't go your way just because you wish on a star.

"Will do, Wuks," you say quietly. "Bye."

"Bye, peaches."

Beep-beep.

Step 1... achieved.

2.) Create distance emotionally.

You couldn't just get rid of your crush (well, you probably could, but that'd entail some magical intervention you're not quite desperate enough for yet), but maybe you could weaken it by limiting how much exposure you had to Wukong. Hard, considering how popular he was, but surely not impossible!

So, to start off easy, you got rid of your merch. You were able to sell most of it online, but the more stuff you got rid of, the more... upset you felt. Which made sense, sure—they were things you loved, of course, and if you hadn't fallen in love with one of your best friends, you'd never part with it—, but your thoughts felt... insane. You found yourself wondering if people would take care of it, if they'd love it and find the same joy in it that you did.

The idea of someone doing anything less made your skin crawl, and for a few brief moments, you considered doing full deep dives on buyers to make sure the merch was going to a good home. Then you reasoned you sounded absolutely obnoxious, like some creepy fangirl and not a close friend of Sun Wukong, and gave the rest away without any further hesitance.

Goddamn, did it sting though.

True to his word, Wukong stopped by your house once every few days with food and medicine. At first, you were worried he'd try to talk to you or ask to come in, but the only way you even knew he'd been there was when he alerted you with a message. You were grateful for it, but words couldn't describe the relief you had that he left no gifts in the bags.

If he had, that might have set you right back to square one.

Your house felt... empty without Wukong's memorabilia, but you chopped it up to your distaste for change. Obviously the nearly crippling discomfort in your own home was because of the now-barren walls (no way it was because you'd just given away dozens of sentimental items), so you bought some pretty posters of bands, artists, and games you liked and hung them on the wall. It wasn't the same, but you supposed that within time, it'd become your new normal.

You decided to ignore the way that settled on your body like gloomy fog.

Now... for the harder part.

Aside from merch, Wukong had gotten you plenty of personal products. Clothes, jewelry, perfumes, cooking utensils you'd been eyeing, plushies—that sort of thing. You knew just by looking at it that it was expensive, probably things that would land you in debt for life if you'd bought it yourself, and rare, too. Likely some one-of-a-kind stuff, knowing Wukong.

You spent three nights despairing over what to do with them. Giving them away to the masses felt disrespectful to say the least, and you didn't have it in you to fight with your heart so much when it protested the idea. Throwing them out didn't feel much better, and neither did burying them, but you couldn't keep them. No, no, no, it'd just encourage your stupid crush if you caved and kept anything, especially the personal stuff!

So you did the only thing you could think of: gave it to your family.

It still didn't feel great either way, but at least you knew they were being cared for. And if Wukong happened to ask for any of it back, it'd be easy to retrieve.

Later in the day, you expect to feel relieved at having found a solution, but it only fills you with dread.

All that's left are the notes.

You keep them in a pretty box in your desk. It's a deep red covered in bright splashes of color meant to resemble fireworks, with bright iron hinges on the back so it could open and close. It's perfectly pristine, not so much as a speck of dust upon it, its well-cared-for appearance taunting you as you lift it out of its drawer and sit on your bed.

You know you shouldn't look at them, but it's not like it'll change anything—you already have them memorized by heart, anyway.

Dear (name), "Sunshine", huh? Can't say it reflects much of who I am as an infamous, invincible god, but I'll take it over "simian" anyday! I think I'll call you "peaches" in return. It has a nice ring, doesn't it? Sunshine and Peaches. Like two peas in a pod. Anyway. I hope you like the clothes!

You laugh softly as you read the note. This had been after you mistakenly let your unspoken nickname for him slip after one of his meetings, flustering both you and the unprepared Dragonhead. Despite your furious blush and profuse apologies, Wukong had made you explain your reasoning behind the nickname (which was mostly Macaque's fault—damn him and his "sun and moon" metaphors). You were mortified, thinking you'd set your and Wukong's relationship way back, but when he started calling you peaches...

Sunshine stuck, and you two really did become peas in a pod.

You've torn through the whole box of notes by the time you realize there are tears running down your cheeks. When the realization hits, you bend over and press your hands to your face, open-mouthed sobs wracking your body.

Why'd it have to be him? You could've fallen hopelessly in love with anyone, and your heart chose him?

Wukong isn't the problem. No, not at all. Next to you, the Monkey King seems wild, volatile, too much. But that's only because you're a mortal, incapable of shining even half as brightly as he does. Wukong's a god, an immortal king, a being who'd felled thousands in mere moments—your best friend deserves someone who could meet him at his level, not force him into some domestic role.

Someone better than you.

The thought sends a sharp wave rocking through your chest, but with it comes some rush of desperation—you don't know if it's to fight for or against something, but it leads you to pluck one of the notes from its place on the bed,

turn it over so you can't see the words,

and fucking shred it.

That night, you lie amongst the torn pieces of paper like they're ruins of a city—something you used to know, used to love, used to find strength in.

Now they're something to be forgotten.

Step 2 is done.

3.) Find somebody else.

You have to admit, Step 3 was definitely a desperate plan B if nothing else worked, and, well...

Nothing else was working.

Your "sick" month had passed, and you were now three months into simple ignoring Wukong. You were honestly surprised the Monkey King hadn't broken into your house yet, but based on some demon conflicts you'd seen on the news, you figured he was busy.

But that wasn't the problem. What was the problem was your crush hadn't waned in the slightest! In fact, your attempts to get rid of it had only made you want to run further into Wukong's arms, where you'd be drowned in the scent of peaches and flowers and the feeling of soft fur and a strong body against yours and—

Goddamnit!

Part of you felt... tired; sick of what you perceived as dramatic and begging for a break from the heartache. It whispered to you, questioning how good Wukong was to keep around if he would cut you loose just for a crush—even saying that it'd be good for you. Save you the trouble and put you on the path of healing before it got real bad... whatever that meant.

But the other half of you fought and it fought hard. You wanted Wukong, even if it meant you could only have him as a friend. He made you feel good and you'd die before giving that up—that was why you'd started this whole mess in the first place!

Besides. Even in the highly unlikely, fantastical world that Wukong didn't reject you—you were a mortal, temporary and simple. Unfortunately, the same would be applied to your relationship. When you ended, so would it. If you couldn't grow old together, if you'd inevitably leave Wukong heartbroken and alone, was it really worth even considering?

No. That's why you're here at a café (far away from Wukong's headquarters, you made sure), sitting across from... your date.

They're gorgeous. With fawn-colored skin, soft brown eyes, and wavy, blonde, orange-dipped hair, they make you think of summer, of beach days and ice cream in the park. And they're sweet, easily cracking jokes with you and complimenting you without overwhelming you. They're... perfect.

But they're not Wukong, and the way you remain acutely aware of that as you share sweet treats with them destroys any hope you had of destroying this crush.

You're trying to think of ways to let your date down gently when you hear the door chime go off. A new customer is nothing to draw any real attention, of course, but a chorus of sharp gasps and your date's frightened stare looking past you makes you turn.

And, god, you wish you hadn't.

Wukong walks into the café calmly, his face unreadable as he scans the booths. You're fairly certain you already know why he's here, but when his eyes meet yours you just know you're fucked.

The café owner bee-lines to Wukong. "G-Great Sage!" They greet, bowing low. "What brings you here?"

Wukong doesn't break eye contact with you. "Nothing to do with you," he answers smoothly before approaching you in long strides.

You can do nothing but watch as he approaches, pinning your tongue between your teeth as you hold the intensity of his stare. Your date, seemingly noticing the tension between you two, reaches out to grasp your hand, but you gently pull away with a shake of your head.

"I'm sorry," you whisper sincerely, sliding enough money for the meal towards them just before Wukong reaches your booth.

The monkey eyes your date, unblinking. If this was any other situation (one where you hadn't avoided him for three months), you'd give him a gentle kick to the leg or something so he'd knock it off. But the situation is too tense, his presence too damning, and you're grateful for the few seconds you get from out beneath the demon's fiery gaze.

"Peaches," he finally murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "We need to talk."

Fuck.

You get up without a word, placing your purse over your shoulder and heading towards the front door with your eyes on your feet. You can feel everyone's eyes on you—or rather, the two of you, as Wukong walks beside you until you reach the door, which he opens for you. Then he follows you out, staying just far enough behind you that he doesn't step on your heels.

Neither of you speak until you get to a bridge, void of people and surrounded by cherry blossom trees. It's adequate shade from any noisy individuals, and you're not sure if it was purposeful or not, or how you feel if it was. Wukong stops beside you as you peer over the edge.

"Peaches," he says, his voice still soft. "What's going on?"

Fuck.

You immediately deflect. "How did you find me?"

You hear him suck in a breath.

"How?" You hiss out, glaring up at him.

He stares at you in silence for a moment, then turns on his phone. As he presses a button, your phone vibrates in your hand.

"You tracked my phone?" You ask, blinking owlishly.

"You weren't answering me," replies Wukong simply, pocketing his phone again.

Your face flushes in frustration. "I was out—"

"For three months?"

That makes you go silent. Your phone vibrates again, making the screen light up. You can see Wukong's name in your notifications, but you dare not look to see how many there are, lest it condemn you further.

"You know, I went to your house," Wukong carries on, his voice thickening. "All the stuff I got you is gone."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

"Yeah," you mumble, your gaze falling to the ground.

"Why? Did you not like it?"

You're torn between honesty and further denial. In the end, Wukong speaks before you can make a choice.

"You didn't throw out the notes."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"It took—" his voice chokes out for a second. Your body tenses, your hands turning to white-knuckled fists at your sides. You don't look up. "It took a lot to put them together, surprisingly. Were really dedicated when you tore 'em up, huh?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Did you lie about being sick? Did you... were you just trying to get away from me?"

"It's not like that," you say, rushed, and you know as soon as the words leave your lips that you shouldn't have spoken.

"Then what is it like?" Wukong chokes out in a thick voice, but you still refuse to look him in the eye.

"I... needed alone time," you mumble.

"Why couldn't you say that?" Wukong replies, a bit of sharpness to his tone, and you can't help but feel like you've opened up the floodgates. "Do I make you feel so unsafe that you'll lie to get away from me?"

"Don't assume things about me," you snap hotly, your eyes flickering to his. They glow with a subtle red color, fixated on you, a testament to how much this has really affected him. But that's not what gets you.

It's the tears collecting in his eyes.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

"What else am I supposed to do?" He grits out. "You ignored me for three months. You didn't even text back to say if you were still sick, or if you just wanted me to stop contacting you—"

"Wukong, I—" you try, taking a step backward when the monkey flings his arms.

"And you didn't answer MK or Macaque, either!"

"Wukong—"

"You scared the shit out of me, peaches!"

"And I'm sorry for that," you bite out, managing to shut him up for a minute. You gulp, your grip on your purse tightening. "But I had... I have a problem I have to fix—"

"What is it? If you would just tell me I could help!" Wukong exclaims, reaching towards you.

"No!" You shout, twisting away from him. "You can't help, Wukong!"

"You don't know that!"

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

"I do! I do know that!"

"How?! How could—"

"BECAUSE HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA FIX ME LOVING YOU?"

Wukong falls silent. Still. Your hands slap over your mouth.

The two of you stand in silence for what feels like forever. The river feels deathly silent, and not even the wind blows. Finally, you remove your hands.

"I-I mean, I can fix it, don't worry," you say quickly, the words spilling from your lips like water. "T-These... feelings—they're temporary, I promise. They're just, uh, a b-bit more stubborn than I was expecting, y-y'know? But they're nothing serious, I swear! I-I know I've been difficult these past few months, I know, I'm sorry, just... just—"

"They're what?" is all Wukong utters, his stare burning through you.

You startle for a second, hands dropping to your chest. "T-They're temporary," you repeat. "Not serious, I swear. Nothing has to change."

Wukong doesn't reply at first. Then:

"What if I want them to be serious?"

Your heart nearly stops in your chest at the force of your surprise. "What?" is all you can get out, staring owlishly at the demon.

"I said," he speaks slowly, stepping towards you. "What if I want them to be serious? To be permanent? What if I want you to be head over heels for me, hm?"

You shiver as he stands before you, hands ghosting over your hips.

"What if I want it all to change, peaches?"

Your heart thumps in your chest, your mind desperately trying to make sense of what he's saying.

Surely he's not... he doesn't mean...

"I don't understand," you whisper, your hands hesitantly pressing against his chest.

"Oh, peaches," he coos softly, leaning in until his forehead rests against yours and all you can see are his eyes.

"Wu—"

"I love you, (name)."

Your breath catches in your throat, your mouth falling open in shock. Your entire body freezes, your thoughts halted as you process his words...

and then your heart soars.

"Me?" You crack out, a blush warming your skin exponentially. It's a bit overwhelming, the mix of love, surprise, and unfiltered relief. So much so that you can't stop the tears from building up in your eyes and slipping out as you stare up at him. "You love me?"

"Of course," Wukong says softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your tears away. "How couldn't I?"

A sob leaves your mouth at the question. "'C-Cause you're... I'm—"

"Simple?" Wukong ventures, frowning at your nod. He huffs, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "Peaches, you are anything but simple. You're brilliant and talented and witty and a quick-learner. You keep me guessing even now, and I've been around for a while," he soothes you sweetly, a breath of laughter to his voice.

You can't help but laugh a little with him, your heart swelling at his compliments. Your hands slide up his chest and his neck, feeling the soft fur slide through your fingers, and settle on his cheeks. You mirror him then, your thumbs petting his cheek bones and brushing away the wetness in his eyes. Another wave of fresh tears overcomes you when he leans into your hands.

"You're the closest thing to perfection I've ever seen," Wukong murmurs emotionally, one of his hands retracting to engulf one of your's. "You're my girl. My peach. My qíng rén."

A sob breaks free of your lips again as you pull Wukong against you, hiding your face in his chest as you cry. The Dragonhead curls around you, as if shielding you from the outside world, which you're thankful for.

Damn. All of this to find out the great Monkey King loves you back? You're not complaining, god no! Despite your tears, your heart is doing tricks, somersaults and great leaps and cartwheels. It's just...

You definitely have some communication skills to work on, you think.

That can wait, though, you think then, your crying finally tapering out. You manage to tilt your head enough to see Wukong's face, the demon smiling down sweetly at you. Your fingers fiddle with his tie for a moment before drifting upwards and holding his face again.

"Peaches," Wukong calls softly, holding your gaze. "What're you thinking?"

You pause before answering. "I... I want to kiss you," you admit, watching the monkey's face turn a red hue similar to your's. "Can I?"

His ears wiggle, his nose twitches, and then he nods, and you can feel his tail wagging by your legs.

The time for picking on his adorable monkey mannerisms will come later, because right now all you're focused on is bringing Wukong's lips to yours and finally knowing how it feels to kiss the Great Sage.

It's done at an awkward angle since Wukong didn't let you go, the both of you straining a bit to meet each other in the middle, and you break away fast, but it's perfect to you. Maybe not how you imagined a requited crush kiss going, but it's your greatest wish come true in spite of that.

"I love you," he breathes.

Your breath catches again, your heart still flipping ecstatically. "Say it again."

Wukong grins, fangs peeking out of his smile. "I love you, qíng rén."

As you bring the Dragonhead into another kiss, you think of one thing.

Maybe fairytales do exist after all.

❝ Good men die too, so I'd rather be with you .❞

[weebsinstash]

I'm sorry but I can't stop thinking about a certain angsty idea

Like pretty sure this is implying getting married is a canon event? But in a way, doesn't that kind of, really strip the choice and actual love and magic out of it? Or, could you at least understand the idea of a Spiderperson who may feel that way? Did you genuinely fall in love with someone if it was "supposed" to happen? And the universe could fall apart if you don't so you arent really even given a choice to say no? Isn't that like having a preprogrammed robot instead of a true lover?

Still kinda obsessed with the concept of a Spider Reader where you didn't get scouted by Miguel until after you had already lost your loved ones, but, it's clear that some Spiders are scouted before they have all of their events (Pav), and, I can't stop thinking about, you're in the Spider Society and making friends and having fun and stuff and you're. Still supposed to get married or have a relationship or something and you're just, completely avoiding having anything at all, not even dating anyone, nothing really feels natural to you and you just don't really want anything?

Months and months and months pass and you've turned multiple people down in your home dimension and Spiders at the Society are told not to interact with you in certain ways, which becomes overboard when no one ever seems to want to hug you or even high five you or touch you at all (because "oh don't let them get a crush on you, they can't break canon" or some dumb paranoia) which just eventually develops into isolating you from the Spider Society, and they all think, "ok good they'll spend more time at home and then start the route for this canon event and we can talk to them again" but it just. Doesn't happen. You're starting to show up to the Society less and less but the only thing that changes when you get back home is a loneliness that you fill with a pet and some platonic friends

Peter B is trying to "subtly" nudge you. "Ya know kid, aren't you in your 20s now? Isn't it time you try and, I dunno, get into college or something? You've got so much potential!" as he willingly omits how he met his wife in college and maybe it's in the model that you could meet your spouse there too as a potential option

But I like the idea and already lowkey established concept that canon changes and has tweaks here and there and can be bent in certain ways so, imagine like, idk, imagine Reader already being with the person who is supposed to your soul mate, and, you find out about The Model or whatever, the Arachno Humanoid Poly Mutiverse or whatever, and you just realize kind of on accident that, oh having a relationship at all is kind of just another prison for you to be in, huh? Another choice stripped away from you, another thing that made you feel like a rubber stamp in existence in the weird copy/paste Spider Society. So you just. You don't intentionally bomb the relationship but you become so extremely depressed and refuse to talk about it with your SO that they actually leave you, making the choice independently, changing canon but not breaking it

But here's Miguel, which I guess you could imagine as a protective obsessive romantic figure or even platonic parental, and he's all but grinding his teeth because, as he sees it, you're not only risking completely breaking your canon which you know Would Fucking Kill You, but, why are you constantly shooting down what are supposed to be good changes for your life? No relationships? No college? No aspirations at all? Why are you not living up to your full potential? He's so frustrated because he KNOWS you could "be better than this" and that you're "supposed to" be better than this, but you just seem. Depressed and defeated. He wants you to be better because it's better for your life, your future, your safety (even if depending on preference it absolutely gets under his skin to see you with anyone else romantically or sexually)

And I have no idea how they would externally force you into some kind of relationship but, I've also thought about, alternatively, the tried and true "Reader lost their home dimension but somehow didn't disappear and lives on Earth 928B now" (the movie specifics its 928b ok, pet peeve I know, 928 is comic Miguel, 928b is ATSV movie Miguel) and eventually, somehow, your bracelet comes off one day and you're about to freak out and it's like, wait, you aren't glitching??? Why aren't you glitching? I mean, you're happy to not be in pain and flashing colors, but, this doesn't make sense? And you don't wanna tempt fate but you don't bother to get a new bracelet or, other people are around to witness this weird event and so, Miguel is immediately investigating what happened. I imagine maybe they scan you with the Go Home Machine and it's just like "ha ha yeah you're home already :)" you know like some "Dimensional Match: 928B" and the machine doesn't even activate, it just scans you with the drone, is like "yeah you're good lmao" and goes back to sleep

And now Miguel is like, you know. Understandably concerned because now there are two Spiders for Nueva York, but, also, he's just like, unbeknownst to you absolutely over the moon necause if you're technically a part of his dimension now, maybe you can complete your canon and have some sort of happy ending. But. Miguel never had his wedding either? Or at least not the "true" one, like how Peter moves on from Gwen to Mary Jane? Cue Miguel suddenly spending suspicious amounts of time on his platform in the dark looking at holograms and algorithms and asking Lyla to calculate the probability of you two maybe becoming spouses for each other

AND YOU'RE SO FUCKED IF IT SAYS YOU CAN LMAO. Cause now not only is he all the more obsessed with you (you were BROUGHT to his dimension by a miracle, can't you SEE you're destined for each other) but now it's "don't you understand? Not only are we MEANT for each other, you don't have a choice! You CANT break canon!" And he's fucking putting a finger in your face and lecturing you about how, you know what, it's ok if you're scared and you're not ready. You know why? Because you two were made for each other, and, he must have been made to be this strong so he can protect you and make decisions on your behalf, right? It's all in The Model. It's all in God's Plan. The two of you are going to get married whether you think it's the love you're fantasizing about or not, and Miguel is more than thrilled that he was essentially just handed a certified excuse to keep you all to himself on a silver platter

Also. I guess this is preferential but. Imagine if Earth 928B's solution to two Spidermen, like how Miles' "corrected" itself with getting rid of blonde Peter, what if the universe and canon just went, "actually it's all cool though cause technically one of them isn't going to technically in name be a Spider anymore, they're going to be forcibly turned into a cute little pampered house spouse" and ON GOD he's getting children out of you if you're capable of it and that ISN'T optional. He's thinking you can start at AT LEAST three babies and then talk about how many more from there? He's always wanted a large family with lots of cute little girls and boys, you know 👉👈

[swaps55]

Twin Souls of the Same Star

Funny, Kaidan thinks as they lie side by side, Shepard’s bare skin illuminated by the fishtank. They’d changed their lives just a few hours ago, assuming Joker actually filled out and filed the paperwork to the hanar and Alliance’s satisfaction.

And yet…everything feels exactly the same.

Shepard strokes Kaidan’s ring figure, then pinches it at the knuckle and examines it closely. “Guess I need to put a ring on this, lest anyone doubt that you are now bound to me by official legal documents. Er, at least as far as hanar law goes. Do we know how binding that little ceremony actually was?”

“Are you questioning the legitimacy of Joker’s ordination within the Enkindler Souls of Stars?” Kaidan asks, tugging his ankle free of the twisted sheet and draping it over Shepard’s leg. “Or are you asking about the return policy?”

Shepard kisses Kaidan’s knuckle and then tugs him until he straddles Shepard’s hips.

“Just try and renege and see what happens to you.”

Kaidan hides his flush behind a chuckle. Shepard pulls him in and traces the shell of Kaidan’s ear with his lips. Bastard. Not even fair to go straight for the ear.

“You’re stuck with me. I just want the entire galaxy to know.” 

No hiding the flush now. “Well, in that case. Don’t need a ring. I know your transponder code. Your baseline biometrics. Your service number. Your mnemonics.”

“Okay, so you know how to take me in a fight, sure.”

Kaidan trails his fingers lightly across Shepard’s belly, smiling in satisfaction when he yelps and nearly shoots out from underneath him.

“I know that.”

Shepard gives him a wary look. “Tickling is just a dirtier kind of warfare than bullets, in my book.”

Kaidan wiggles his fingers in tune with his eyebrows, but pins Shepard firmly in place when he attempts to flee.

“Point is,” Kaidans says between sloppy kisses against Shepard’s neck. “I’m pretty sure I can stake a pretty convincing claim to you without a trinket as proof.”

“Don’t know why I’m worrying. Pretty sure you’re the only one who would put up with me, anyway.”

Kaidan trails kisses down the line of Shepard’s shoulder. “Dunno. Have you seen how pretty you are?”

Shepard preens. “Maybe. But Liara says I’m very vexing.”

“Lucky for you, I like vexing.”

“See? Soulmates. The hanar say so. Joker’s head garment thingy looked very official.”

“If you’re really worried about it we could always hire a hanar to follow us around and tell people.”

Shepard sniggers into Kaidan’s shoulder, then adopts a solemn tone. “This one would like you to know that these two are bound soul stars in the eyes of the Enkindlers.” His eyes widen. “Oh god we cannot tell Javik.”

Kaidan barks a laugh, and Shepard grins.

“Well, we don’t have a hanar on board,” Shepard goes on. “Suppose we could just stick some tentacles on Garrus. No one will know.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“He’ll think it’s funny.”

He probably would.

Kaidan rests his head on Shepard’s chest, sighing softly as Shepard runs fingers through his hair.

“Should I have taken your name or something?” Shepard asks eventually.

Kaidan’s heart does a somersault at the thought. Not something he’s ever thought about. Not something he’s ever even cared about. But the fact Shepard has…

He swallows. Shepard continues stroking his hair and just…lets him feel it for a minute.

“You married me,” Kaidan says after a moment.

“Yeah, I remember. I was there.”

“Other people saw it.”

“Pretty sure they remember, too. Joker’s hanar impression was very memorable.”

“Wow.”

Shepard chuckles. The sound rattles under his sternum, and Kaidan lets the feel of it wash through him. “So? Should I be Sam Alenko?”

Kaidan huffs. “Well, you hate being called Sam.”

Shepard ponders that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess it would be kind of weird if people started calling me Alenko, huh?”

“Yeah, that would be pretty weird. Thought’s pretty romantic, though.”

“I am so full of romantic gestures. Just you wait.”

“Mmmm,” Kaidan says with what he’s sure is a stupid grin. “I could take yours, I guess.”

Shepard makes a face. “Can you imagine you and me in the same room as my mother? No one will have any idea what the fuck to call us.”

“Okay,” Kaidan says with a laugh. “No name changes.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“Definitely.”

They drift off for a few minutes. Shepard’s hand stills, the weight of it on Kaidan’s head warm and comforting. Maybe Kaidan falls asleep. He’s not sure.

“Did you know we get tax benefits for being married?” Shepard asks, startling him awake.

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. “Did you read a manual or something?”

“Well, I can’t suck at this.”

Kaidan stifles a laugh against Shepard’s chest. “You know, Williams even told me once we should get married for the tax breaks.”

“Did she? Do you think she knew?”

“Of course she did.” Kaidan hoists himself up on an elbow to look him in the eye. “Everyone did. Except you. You thought I was into Williams.”

Shepard flashes him a guilty look. “She made you laugh all the time.”

“She was funny!”

“Yeah, but she was funnier than me and I didn’t like it.”

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. “And that didn’t…raise any flags for you.”

The guilty look gets guiltier. “Does it make it any better if I say that when people mistook us for a married couple I’d think to myself, ‘there are a lot worse things than spending the rest of my life with him?’”

“Really? Really?” Kaidan gooses him again, this time with a lot less mercy. Shepard yells indignantly and twists beneath him. They tussle until Shepard manages to trap Kaidan’s back against his chest.

“In my defense.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Hang on, I’m thinking.”

Kaidan laughs. “You realize that this exact line of thinking is what got us in trouble in Vancouver.”

 “Hey, I remember kissing you in the rain in Vancouver, so I think my line of thinking is pretty great, actually.” 

“Yeah,” Kaidan says softly, gripping his hand. “This is pretty great.”

Shepard rests a chin on Kaidan’s shoulder. “You were pretty pissed at me over the Williams thing. I thought I’d really fucked up.”

Kaidan strokes his arm. The memory of Williams still sits like a bruise, but it’s less tender to the touch than it used to be. “Think I was more angry at myself.”

“Why?”

“For being so in love with you and so unable to do anything with it. About it. I don’t know. You were never going to feel the same way and I just…couldn’t even try to get over the way I felt about you.”

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one who was dense,” Shepard murmurs in his ear. “Turns out I was, in fact, very, very into you the whole time.”

Kaidan smiles into the dim room.

“You know I reached out to Beaudoin after that to get his advice?” Shepard asks.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I thought I’d really fucked up, but I didn’t know why and Beaudoin, you know. Knew how to people a lot better than I do.”

“So you thought you’d fucked up your relationship with me, went to the only person we know with any reasonable insights on dating and romance, for advice, and that still didn’t trigger anything for you?”

“No.”

“You have saved the galaxy twice.”

“I contain multitudes.”

Kaidan snorts. “What did he say?”

“His message was one line and it was zero help. It said, ‘You’ll figure it out, I’ve got money on it.’ I had no fucking idea what he was talking about.”

Kaidan laughs softly into the pillow. “He and Aslany had a bet about us.”

“Wait….he knew too? Aslany knew?”

“Told you. Everyone.”

“Motherfucker.”

Kaidan tugs Shepard’s arm tighter around him, thinking of simpler days and places and times you can’t go back to. “Wish Beaudoin could have been here today.”

Shepard kisses the back of his neck. “Me too. Can you even imagine what he would have said about Joker’s ‘vestment?’”

“He would have loved us getting married by a human ordained through the hanar. And yeah, he would have fucking loved that vestment.”

“He really would have.” 

They lapse back into silence. It feels heavier this time.

Williams. Beaudoin. The Normandy. The ‘Yang. And there’s more to come. Kaidan feels it in his bones.

“We have a lot of history, don’t we?” Kaidan murmurs.

“Yeah, we do,” Shepard agrees. He wraps Kaidan up tight. “I want more. Think we made some today.”

“This one now pronounces you twin souls of the same star,” Kaidan intones.

“I like that part,” Shepard says, nuzzling his neck. “Even better than the vestments.”

Shepard has always shone brighter than any star, but Kaidan has always walked willingly and unflinchingly into that light. There’s never been another path. At least not that he wanted to take.

“Kiss me,” Kaidan says, the sudden need for it overwhelming.

Shepard rolls him over and obliges. It feels no different than it did a few hours ago: beautiful. It always has, with Shepard.

The kiss gets deeper. Shepard’s corona kindles, bright and flickering, a fire without heat that graces Kaidan’s nerves with a soft, sweet hum. Kaidan reaches into the gravity well and lights his own star, their auras blending together into one, solid glow.

We’ve always been this, Kaidan thinks as he falls headlong into Shepard’s embrace.

Now they just have the documents to prove it.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

pickin up watchin the outsiders show from a million years ago I'm BACK

this timeliness is so fucked up. ponys?? thinkin about goin for track but the show takes place AFTER the book?

awww darrys goin to work at a country club (omg wait dirty dancin crossover WAITIN to happen)

darry sayin they aren't gonna fight in the rumble n tim saying dallas said they were tuff. OUGH. 'yeah well look where that got dallas' AUGH. ouch. Jesus christ.

love Steve in this version. that's my guy. I dunno what's up with him but I love him.

this scene is pitch black. I can't see SHIT.

who the hell is this child. she's trauma dumpin n ponys like. u like to kill a mockingbird. OH. this is scout. ok thats where scout comes from. wait are they settin scout up to be like? Johnny? also btw STILL no mention of that guy.

oh my god. this white girl just wrote slave fanfiction. what the fuck.

ponyboys writin actually. aough. I will say there's a lot of flaws with the show but I like gettin the chance to see pony in school.

shows givin us dyslexic pony. aough. they gettin the whole FAMILY.

I'm sorry are they tryin to imply pony n cherry are just meetin? isn't this supposed to take place AFTER the book?

feel like the two bit castin was really well done.

ponyboy is so whiny n pouty in this version. actually. hell yeah. I stand for whiny ponyboy supremacy. let that kid be a brat every now n then.

DOG. he just had the whole oh we used to be fine before mom n dad died. DID THE BOOK HAPPEN OR NO?

ohhh I am actually sick to my stomach. 'when Darry gets scared it comes out angry. or when two gets scared it comes out funny. or when you get scared you smoke too much'. soda in every universe they could never make me hate u ily.

when Soda hugs its always so desperate. like he's just tryin to hold on to his brothers with everything he has. AOUGH.

two n pony duo actually so important to me. we don't see them much in the book or movie but I'm lovin this duo so much.

SODAS LIL FRILLY APRON WHILE HES COOKIN AWWW

'we take turns doin dinner' 'no we don't. pony starts dinner n then he wanders off n it burns to a crisp. we take turns doin the dishes' AOUGGAHGHH BROTHERS EVER I LOVE THEM

SODAS BLUE MASHED POTATOES AWAUGG

darry roofin content n pony school content the show is FEEDIN us

tim followin darry around?? 'we need you. I need you.' HELLO???

'you ain't nothin but a Northside greaser like the rest of us. n if we don't stick together we're nothin' FROM TIM TO DARRY??? what the HELL is the nature of their relationship. I'm obsessed with them.

tim opens his fridge. takes a beer. takes somethin else (?) off the table. turns around n says 'those Socs will let you build their roof darry. but they ain't ever gonna let you under one.' n then fucks off. insane. no notes.

JOHNNY MENTION!!!! JOHNNY MY BABY!!! he is trash talkin the SHIT outta him. however. wait. ok. so. the events of the book did happen. STAY GOLD MENTION. oh. so we are swappin in scout for Johnny. hm. I don't know how to feel about that.

the way darry says 'you got me little brothers?' aough. I'm sick to my stomach.

darrys gettin fired? n he says he needs this job. but didn't he? get hired at a country club? this show cannot keep up with its own lore.

steves sittin? IN the sink?

AOUGH THEM ALL PILIN IN THE BACK OF THE TRUCK OUGH MY KIDS

why are scout n pony just. watchin 2 teenagers make out. freaks.

PAUL N DARRY MENTION. WOAH.

pony is so cute in the show actually. that's my son.

why are they at a dance. what is HAPPENIN. why is pony just sittin there poutin.

I know they probably didn't mean it this way. but settin up that scout is exactly like Johnny. n then lettin her. be ponys romantic interest. do we see. what you are implyin. here.

AW he's so awkward. apugh. my baby.

STEVE TALKED SODA INTO GOIN TO THE RUMBLE. AOUGH. guys. I can't explain how important it is to me that every so often STEVE is the one convincin SODA. AOUGH

very cool. another pitch black scene. all I can see it like. vague car shapes.

pony runnin into the fight late VERY reminiscent of Dallas in the book huh.

goddamn darry is MEAN in the show. like. oddly so. he's soft at times but I feel like. hmm. I dunno. they just can't pick a lane with his characterization.

IS THAT SODA? DID THEY STOMP THE HELL OUTTA SODA? man I sure wish the show was more then three pixels.

WHAT THE FUCKIN HELL. 'DONT GIVE ME ANY TROUBLE SHEPARD. I PUT DOWN YOUR BUDDY DALLAS. N ILL PUT YOU DOWN TOO' WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE HELL. oh I hope Tim kills that guy. fuck that cop.

the way. Tim talks about Dallas. oh. dear God. like. I can't even sum it up here. the cop sayin no one gave a damn about Dallas. n tim sayin someone did. Tally shippers we are WINNIN tonight. how we FEELIN

AND tarry shippers actually. darry sayin he only went to the rumble for tim🤨 hmm

wait. does sandy still happen? in the show? is that a plot line?

there is a train whistle or a dog barkin every ten seconds.

'u know. we never think about darry havin any problems. he's always superman to us. let's go get him.' SODA THE BROTHER THAT YOU AREEEE

GODDAMN SODA CLEARED THAT FENCE IN ONE LEAP

guys. the brothers ever. like. let them be brothers. please. 'so you screwed up. seems anyone can screw up once darry. even you' 'yeah I might even someday!' AOUGHGGGG BROTHERS EVER ACTUALLY

ok. pilot done. final thoughts? I liked it. I think the shows only problem is it doesn't know what story it wants to tell. whether it wants to be the story of the outsiders or POST the outsiders. n the second they figure that out. well. honestly? I'm here for it

[juiceedapplee]

Afterschool: Couches and Kisses

Gojo x male! Reader

Your order is ready! @darlingminjin

“…Me and Gojo, I don’t really care if you write it as smut or fluff or maybe even both. I just need something to feed my delusions, y’know? ✌️😗 I dunno, probs us cuddling?”

Being a teacher is hard work, grading homework (taking naps), coming up with lesson plans (receiving missions), supervising hands-on activities (taking kids on missions), and even planning field trips (getting souvenirs during missions) take lots of time and energy. But Satoru still makes time for you no matter what, even if it isn’t easy due to your jobs, him as a teacher and sorcerer and yours as just a sorcerer. And whether that’s through flaunting his wealth by taking you out for dinner and movies or by hanging out together at home playing video games, he still makes time.

—This is one cuddly man, if he’s to be around you he’s gonna be touching you in some way or another. Whether that’s holding hands or wrapping his arms around you.

“Im gonna put on Love Island, the new season is out and we gotta watch it together I heard it was really good!” You shouted from the living room. It was your turn to pick the days activity and having been out and about for the past two weeks a day inside was long overdue. “It’s season four right? I made Yuji watch it a few days ago, said it was pretty good.” Satoru said as he walked back to the couch, popcorn, some macarons he picked up yesterday, and two bottles of soda in hand. Satoru put the snacks down and plopped down on the couch next to you, pulling you close and enjoying your warmth.

— There is no way in the world this man hasn’t done the thing where you yawn and then stretch out your arms and put them around the person your with. I think he does it like everywhere at least once.”

Satoru stretches out his arms as he yawns, not-so subtly putting them around you. “So, you come here often?” He says, turning his head to look at you. “Yes I do actually, believe it or not it’s my home.” You respond, eyes still focused on the show. Satoru, with a playful grin says “Really? I had nooo idea. So, you gotta a boyfriend? Or are you single?” Playfully rolling your eyes you turn to face him “Yeah, but he’s out right now. Why? You wanna go out with me?” A look of pretend shock and anger appear on Satoru’s face. “Are you about to cheat on me?” “Of course not baby, I would never, not in a million years.” You respond. “You totally were!” A pout appearing on your boyfriend’s face. “I can’t believe this, my beloved boyfriend just tried to cheat on me.” He huffs and turns his head, his arms retreating from around you and crossing in front of his chest. “Aw, I’m sorry baby. I promise I wouldn’t date anyone but you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him, peppering his face with kisses.

—His favorite movie genre, probably rom-coms or drama. He loves being able to quote the shows or movies he watches too, especially since he has you to quote them to.

It’s been a week since you watched mean girls with Satoru and he has not been able to stop talking about it. “This is so fetch.” Satoru says while watching you cook dinner. “Satoru, stop trying to make fetch happen it’s not going to happen.” You say back. Satoru lets out a small laugh and puts his chin on your shoulder wrapping his arms around you. Yesterday you tried giving Satoru a quick kiss before you left and he said, “um, lipgloss.” You turned around and walked towards the door dumbfounded as Satoru laughed at the expression you made. As you went to work you could only think about what would happen if you showed him the heathers musical. (I think gojo would love musicals btw)

—But sometimes, when the movies get sad or filled with romantic drama, he feels a bit insecure. He knows you love him but sometimes he get in his head.

“You would never do that to me right?” Satoru asks. The two of you watching a movie on the couch, the action in question is a girl leaving her boyfriend for someone “better”. “Of course not, I’ll say this as many times as I need but you are mine as I am yours. I love you with all my heart, nothing and nobody can change that. Not even god himself.” You pull him closer, placing your hands on his cheeks, giving him a kiss. It’s not very deep and not very long but your feelings are still clear, love and affection evident in the kiss and lingering touch on his face. “Thanks” Satoru smiles at you, a rare moment of pure vulnerability, a time in which his raw emotions are out in the open for you to see.

Here’s your receipt!

Medium Hollow Purple: $3.00

Marshmallow topping: $1.00

Service fee: ¢.25

Discount: -$4.25

Total: $0.00

Card accepted! Enjoy!

My first thoughts when I saw your request were angst, kfc breakup, unrequited feelings. But I believe the kfc breakup was a dream and so here we are!! I wanted to do like a full fledged fic but I made three paragraphs and then stopped for like two hours cause I got distracted and had a headache so now it’s hc’s with mini fics.

[cannibalisticcorpse]

22, 24, or 26?

from this ask game

22. “Your lips are really warm.”

Charles smiles as he nuzzles his nose against Edwin's. They fit on the sofa together- just barely. "That's wicked," he notes, and Edwin scrunches his face as he tries to pull back, pressing his head into the sofa.

"Wicked? What's wicked?"

"Your lips, mate." Charles grins that love-dumb grin of his Edwin hadn't gone a moment without since Charles broke down and confessed his feelings. He shifts on top of Edwin, straddling his thighs and sitting up as he peers down at Edwin. "They're, like, really warm." His face flushed as he trails a finger over Edwin's lips.

"Are they?" Edwin asks in the most out-of-breath way he could. "Why might that be?"

"I dunno, mate. But, maybe we should take you to the doctor, huh?"

"A ghost doctor, perhaps?" Edwin teases, reaching up to cover Charles' hand with his own. His other sits idly on Charles' hip. "Might you fetch one for me?"

"What? Call the Cat King in here an' have him check you out? No thanks, you've got Doctor Rowland on duty." He shifts on Edwin's lap, leaning down to nuzzle their noses together again.

A warm beat passed between them, and Charles paused.

"You're ridiculous," Edwin teases gently and Charles swears he can feel the movement on his own lips.

"Can I-" He swallows. "Um. My lips are cold... Could I kiss you and warm them up?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Charles lets himself melt as he presses his lips to Edwin's for the first time in over thirty years of wanting.

24. “This isn’t how I pictured our first Valentine’s day.”

"You fucking idiot!" Edwin screams, all of his frustrated rage condensed into those words.

Charles furrows his brows as his shoulders raise, his eyes lasered in on his shoes. He takes a breath and Edwin steels himself. This was it- this was when Charles snaps him.

Only... he doesn't. He turns his head to the side and says, "I didn't mean to get us trapped here." His voice is just as small as Edwin's made him and the empty white space around them seems to echo his words. His shoulders drop and he looks up at Edwin with teary eyes. "I never want to put you in danger! I thought breaking it would solve the issue, not open a new dimension! How could I have known this would happen?!"

Edwin squeezes his eyes closed as he takes a breath. "Did I think we'd be spending our first Valentine's Day together in a pocket dimension? No."

Charles sniffles as his tears fall down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Edwin!"

"I know," Edwin says, and then he smiles. "I know you're sorry, I know you didn't mean to..." He takes a breath and steps up to Charles, petting his hands up Charles' collar to cradle his throat and jaw. "I apologize for my outburst, this simply wasn't how I pictured this day. I forgive you, though I have nothing to forgive." He presses their foreheads together and they take a breath together. "I love you, Charles."

"Ah, mate," Charles whines and pulls Edwin into a hug. "We'll find a way out of here, alright?"

Edwin hugs Charles back, and breathes out an, "Of course."

"And, for the record, I love you too, also."

26. “This reminded me of you.”

"What?!" Charles squawks. "What do you mean?!'

"Well, it looks like you. Or, it reminded me of you, at the very least." Edwin presents the taxidermied fox to Charles again. It's held in both of his hands, and he'd even draped a gold necklace around its neck. "You don't see the resemblance?"

Charles tilts his head to the side, eyeing the fox like he was considering. "Uh... I'm not... I don't think so, mate." He reaches a hand forward to boop the snoot and makes a kind of pulled-back face. "What in the bloody..."

Edwin sighs. "You don't enjoy it."

"I never said that," Charles rushes out, grabbing the fox from Edwin and holding it to his chest. "I love foxy, actually."

"I should have gifted you something more romantic. Niko was right."

Charles shakes his head, petting the fox protectively. "Nonsense, you know me best."

"What sort of gift does one typically receive for Valentine's Day?"

Charles shrugs. "I bought you a shopping cart."

"Bought or stole?"

Charles grins, and Edwin takes a breath of relief that he wasn't too upset over the gift. Nevermind the status of his own.

[hannahssimblr]

“Si prega di restare in linea. Un membro del nostro staff sarà con lei a breve.” Out the back of the Villa, Friday morning, phone to my ear, just me, and the crackling, classical hold music. 

A woman comes on, terrible English, my Italian worse, and we engage in a stunted back and forth about the accommodation in Sorrento, why it’s too late to cancel. “The day before you arrive…” she’s saying. “It is impossible. You must pay the full amount.” And obviously I don’t want to do that. I want my money back, because I think my girlfriend is on the brink of breaking up with me. Listen, I slept on the couch last night. My neck actually hurts quite a bit, so if you could just give me a refund, that’d actually be so cool. Very much appreciated.

These are my thoughts, not what I say to the nice, hassled woman on the phone. “Okay, thanks so much. See you tomorrow,” I hang up, then go typing things into the internet. Things to do alone, Sorrento. Activities for solo travellers, Sorrento. Best restaurants Sorrento -romantic -couples. Pulling up pictures of the room, trying to decipher how likely it is there’ll be a couch I can sleep on there, or if I’ll just take the floor.

Afternoon sometime, I call home. Facetime, my mother’s iPhone, and she picks up wearing a rollneck jumper. “I’m cold looking at you,” she says. “What temperature is it?”

“Dunno. Twenty-seven or something.”

“All going well?”

“Yeah, it’s great. Is Ivy home?”

“Yes. Seeing as it’s the Easter holiday, she’s home all week.” Emphasis on the words “Easter holiday”, like I’m already aware of the details and intricacies of my sister’s schedule. No, I don’t. Sorry. I actually don’t live there anymore, but share the Google calendar link if you want.

She passes the phone to Ivy, her new braces on, a flash of metal there, to fix the lower crowding and the gap between her central and lateral incisor. Green bands this time. Last time they were red. She likes to switch it up. 

“How’d dad feel about the highlighter green?” I say. “Surprised he even had anything other than medical grade beige and silver in stock.”

“He said it’d make my teeth look rotten from far away. I said ‘good’.”

“Nice. When I had mine, he gave me the clear bands, you know that? Nothing fun allowed.”

“Yeah, and he said yours got stained because of all the Fanta.”

“I was a foul kid. How are you?”

She’s in the kitchen. I can see the garden through the patio doors behind her. The way she slumps onto the settee is hilariously adult, the laboured sigh, the eye roll. “Oh, fine. It’s been busy.”

“Busy? Doing what?”

“I’ve been at Ella’s house a lot. Hanging out. We had a sleepover a few days ago.”

“Uh huh? Any drama?”

“Oh, yeah. We passed around notes that said ‘do you like me?’ and then we had to write yes or no.”

“Wow, great idea.”

“Yes, well. Someone wrote ‘no, we all think you’re annoying’ on Olivia’s.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. I have my suspicions.”

“What did Olivia do?”

“Nothing, I don’t think. Some people just don’t like her. She was crying and all, then. Got her dad to collect her afterwards, which was good, probably, but then everyone was just going on about it. I said it wasn’t me, so I’m not bitching behind her back.”

“‘Bitching’? You can’t say that word.”

“Oh, well, I can.”

“Mom says that, does she?”

Ivy, cheek on fist, a wry smile. Of course not. She’s trying it out, casually tossing it in to see what she’ll get away with. My sister, a smooth operator. Ten going on twenty-five, apparently. 

“What’s happening for Easter, then?”

“Granny’s house.”

“Exciting.”

“Back to the haunted house.”

I laugh, genuinely, and make her run the highlight reel of her impressions. Granny Hyland when the electricity went out. Granny Hyland when the centre-left election campaigner came to the door. Granny Hyland when a bird shat on dad’s windscreen on the way into town.

She’s the funniest person I know, delivering spot on impersonations with no need to laugh at herself. The better sibling in every conceivable way. 

“Where’s Astrid?” she says. “I want to see her.”

She means it literally, the seeing her thing. They won’t talk, because Astrid never knows what to say, but Ivy likes to look, anyway. There, usually, somewhere in the background curled up on the couch, or in the kitchen, where I’ll walk in, pointing the phone at her and force her into an awkward “hello”. It’s a girl thing, maybe, my sister’s perception of her, the standard of what all little girls want to be when they grow up. “Show me your nails,” Ivy will say, and Astrid will, usually glossy and flawless. “Now your earrings, can I see them?” and then, tucking back her hair, those golden hoops with the leaf. I bought her those for Christmas. 

I see the appeal. Pin straight blonde hair, slim and tall, the Scandinavian slope nose, she might have been factory made. Moulded from the same template used for fashion dolls, the ones Ivy has played with her whole life, and still does. In her room, ten of them hanging out in the bookshelf she emptied to make an apartment. She wants to see one in the flesh. She’d come back on a week later with the same nails, only shorter, the varnish lumpier, and earrings from Claire’s that have already made her lobes green. “Show Astrid my fashion,” she’ll say, and my girlfriend will do her best to smile.  

“She’s out,” I say. 

“Oh, where?”

I don’t know. She’s been gone since this morning, would you believe? I woke up, sore neck after she shunned me to the sofa, and she was gone. I texted her to check in and she didn’t even read the message. God knows, to be honest, Ivy. She’s probably hanging out with these two absolutely bonkers friends she met on a boat last weekend, so much older than her and the weirdest vibe about them you can imagine. You’ll know what I mean when you’re older. Anyway, she’ll be back eventually, and then I’ll get her to show you her nails. They’re pink at the moment. 

“Shopping.” 

“Oh, okay. Buying something cool?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay. Hope you’re having fun.”

“I am. Lots of photos to show you. I’ll call again soon, okay?”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[clownin44]

hey, what do you think of benlor as a ship??? if possible, can u please bless us with some benlor fanart? thanks!

Ty for the ask!

Other than Ashlyn and Aiden, Red really doesn't focus on any other pairings. She said that she prefers to have the relationships develop naturally as she goes, which I think is really cool! I don't have any ship I'm crazy about. I think they all have the potential to be cute, but benlor, I SEE!!

I'm going to break down this pairing and why I think they work and some headcannons I have, hopefully? Dunno what this is actually

Their first important scene together (in my opinion) happens in episode 27 when Aiden tells the group what happened to Ben. Taylor is the first to say anything, and thanks him for being so open about it when he probably wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. I like that It's not meant to be romantic, Taylor's just a kind person. However, it definitely changes their relationship moving forward.

In episode 42, when Logan is confronting Barron at the arcade, they have another special moment. Taylor notices Ben's discomfort with the situation and makes a comment about wishing he had stayed inside. I don't think it's because she thinks he's dangerous, I think it's because knowing what she knows now makes it harder for her not to notice and feel it too.

I love that instead of asking, "Can I?" She asks, "Is it okay?" It shows that she's mindful of any boundaries he may have. Ben's expression softens, and he reluctantly hands her an earbud so they can listen together.

Season 2 takes things a lot slower, as Taylor's visibly upset after the "death" of her brother, and there aren't as many scenes of them that I remember. Here's what I gathered from the benlor crumbs we got!

Episode 75? I believe? Shows the group hanging out in the phantom realm after Maverick visits Ben. Taylor's stressed and homesick and wants to go home like everyone else. Ben reaches out to comfort her and tells her that they will, in fact, find their way home. It's sweet to see him try and calm her down like she has with him in the past.

Smaller scenes I'm lumping together. Taylor brings up getting Ben a whistle, and she's leaning against him in the group huddle!! Both are very cute.

MOVING ONTO HEADCANNONS!!!

-Ben has a hard time believing anyone can love him, so a lot of the time when Taylor's nice to him, he assumes it's because that's just the way she is.

-They both struggle with having too much empathy for people. Taylor picked up on that, and they were able to bond over it.

-Neither of them can cook. Taylor never had to learn because Tyler was always there to cook for her and Ben just can't figure it out lol

-Red posted somewhere that words of affirmation was her love language? Or communication? Which obviously is difficult for Ben. He tries to compensate for this by writing her letters (and maybe some poetry he's too embarrassed to show her).

Anyway I think they're neat, I'll draw some fanart of them later tn hope I answered ur question!!

[scenetocause]

💘 mando, pretty pls?

(omg so hard to decide on a heart, i wish i could send all of them!)

🫡 this is loosely set on that night when lando had everyone round to max's parents' lounge for a slumber party DJ set but i forgot it was martin not oli and whatever factual inaccuracy is actually ethical in rpf in this essay i will-

"Max." Lando says it casually, confidently, like he's not just tilted Max's world on it's axis.

He can't help spluttering. "You'd what, Bob?"

Lando's entirely unapologetic. "If I had to snog someone here, it'd be you, wouldn't it?"

That does sort of make sense, when Lando's slurping his can of White Claw and using the sensible, adult voice he did when he offered Max the Quadrant contract.

Except that. "We can't make out, mate."

Lando shrugs and Max is dimly aware there are other people here, that someone (Tom) is hollering at them to stop being fucking losers and get on with the game of truth or dare but that can wait, for now.

"Why not? Conor's got a girlfriend, I'm not snogging Tom and Oli's my brother. So, it just makes sense, doesn't it?"

Someone, Max suspects himself, whimpers quite pathetically.

"S'only a theoretic-whatever, innit. Just saying."

"Ok Bob." He sounds very weak. Feels very weak. Like he needs a cup of tea. Or perhaps he's become one, too dilute and half-cold and much too milky.

"What if it wasn't?" He's not sure that makes any sense, blurted out between sips of wine.

Lando catches up quickly, though. Always has. Looks at Max way too shrewdly for someone who's been drinking, like he's somehow got the focus to bore through Max's soul still.

"Go on, then."

He's never been very good at holding his breath. It makes him panic a bit, like he's drowning. 10 seconds is a long time to wait to exhale, staring at Lando to check he heard him right, through the blood thundering in Max's ears.

"Right, ok."

"Not here," Lando unfolds from the floor, offers Max a hand up. "Don't wanna do it in front of Oli, it's weird."

"Yeah, wouldn't want it to be weird," Max can't help the sarcasm. What the fuck's happening?

"Why would it be, mate?" Lando's got him backed up against the corridor wall and Max is forced to remember, for the millionth time, that he's the shorter one, now.

"Dunno." Max tilts his chin up, defiant now. If Lando's going to fucking snog him then like, just get on with it, yeah? They've nearly got here so many times, waking up tangled together in the Woking house and maybe if they had-

No. Max is done thinking about the past like superstitions, as though he could've saluted a few more magpies and made things different.

"Well don't be weird." Like it's that simple. It might be?

Lando leans in and Max has to scrabble a bit, to get a hold on him. Has to push his fingers into the muscle on Lando's shoulders, haul himself up a bit.

Annoyingly, Lando's good at kissing. Teases, with his tongue, before he nips at Max's lower lip to let him in. He's not as over-eager as Max thought he'd be, the times he's let himself think about them kissing. Has a sense of control, restraint that he knows the bloke must have a lot of but sometimes seems completely absent.

He's tender, too, holding Max around his waist like he's precious. Like this is romantic. Not like snogging one of your mates when you're both a bit tipsy. It's like an... old couple or something, still in love. Maybe that's what they are, still together after all this time and distance.

When Lando pulls back, squeezes Max around his middle, leans back in for another little kiss, Max has to stop himself saying anything stupid. No need to make it weird, is there?

[tanalorrs-heartthrob]

I have thoughts about Cal's trust issues and I'm going to make it everyone's problem

(with special thanks to @cal-with-a-kesett-tape and @weadapt's problem cause they started this blubbering mess)

It hit me like a brick earlier.

Cal knew the Mantis crew loved him.

Love wasn't enough to make them stay.

Cal has never had the chance to really sit down and think about what attachments really were and how they feel. Hear me out.

This started about Cal's trust issues. I started thinking yeah, the way his Mantis crew family left all of a sudden really shook them and he kind of replaced them subconsciously with a new crew, a new family. A couple of quick notes:

- Lost his master

- Loses all his friends on Bracca (it's implied in Jedi Survivor post-game dialogue that he had other friends besides Prauf that he left behind)

- Prauf

- Crew he grew to love left him jarring his whole world

- Lost his "new" crew suddenly and all he has left of that memory is Bode so he kind of clings to Bode unknowingly

- Bode betrayal shatters him

- Clings to the idea that he and Dagan could work together - for a split second you can see in his eyes he sees it all. He and Dagan, hair flowing in the wind, swinging lightsabers, fighting the empire together, rebuilding the order together, it's romantic really. That lasts all of 2 seconds and he's so confused.

- He loses Cordova, a man he had a pseudo-connection through BD-1 with for so long

- Loses Cere, his second master

- Has to literally kill Bode and live with that

That said, I started thinking yeah he probably doesn't really realize that how deep that all goes within him or how much it actually comes down to his lack of really knowing what attachments are. This is going to cause so many trust issues and him closing himself off because he can't handle the reality of losing more people, especially after Bode shattered his inner-most circle. How's he going to let people in again?

Then it hit me like a brick.

There's a big reason why he sees so much of himself in Dagan. Dagan's attachments turned sour - it went the Vader route of being possessive. His obsession with Sentari's project and Tanalorr was a product of not being able to let his attachments go. That's pretty clear in the game, and mirrored in how Cal has allowed "The Fight" to become his attachment.

Jaro's last words are, "Hold the line" right? We know how he now has this deep engrained need to be needed. He has to fight for something. Yes, it's all he knows, but it's deeper than that, it's the last thread he has to his master. What would happen if he let that go? Cal hasn't really sat and thought about that yet.

Not only that, Cal has internalized his loyalty to this cause as like. A familial thread. The fight was his thing and the Mantis crew became his family, filling a void. The fight is their thing. And for the first time in his life Cal feels safe again. He's finally got some solidly dedicated efforts and people he can depend on. So in them leaving the Fight behind (for good reasons!!) Cal can't reconcile that leaving that isn't leaving him too, (or as @cal-with-a-kesett-tape puts it, abandoning him) it's like denouncing loyalty to him too. He just can't separate that connection and his own attachment. Maybe that's reaching and obviously there's more to it, but I dunno guys, I dunno!!

YOU CAN LOVE EVERYONE SO MUCH AND YOU HAVE TO COME TO TERMS WITH THE FACT THAT PEOPLE CAN AND WILL LEAVE OF THEIR OWN VOLITION!!

AND HE CAN'T DEAL WITH THAT BECAUSE HE DOESN'T REALLY UNDERSTAND HOW THAT LOVE GETS POURED OUT IN HIS LIFE. CAL'S LOVE LANGUAGE IS LITERALLY LOYALTY AND QUALITY TIME AND THE FIGHT.

Again, there's a part of Cal that just never got to stand beside his master like the Padawans of the Republic Era got to and ask all their questions or be scolded like the way Ahsoka did about being too attached to her Master. She had to dig deep and understand what that meant, how to acknowledge it, and how to let it go. Cal has Cere but maybe she just assumed? Who knows. Cal obviously struggled with it more than anyone realized. No discredit to Cere, I just don't think it ever really crossed her mind. Or, you know, Cal's stupid stubborn especially with Cere. Maybe he just ignored her in classic Cal fashion.

All that stemmed from this:

The romance aspect.

He knows taking a romantic step forward is a risk in general. And yes there's all that subconscious hesitation because he's a Jedi. But there's a bigger problem at play with Merrin.

I have to wonder if he did in fact know how she felt about him before she left. And if he did, it's just so much worse.

To him, all this buildup of love and trust. Down the refresher the day she left. So I wonder, maybe a lot of his hesitation isn't about him accepting his feelings. Maybe he gets it. He just struggles with letting someone in again who, in his mind, so easily let him go. He now has to come to terms that he wants to ask her to stay. He has to acknowledge in his mind that he wants her enough to be ok with letting her back in, knowing she's her own person and there's a chance she has to go do her thing someday and he might just have to let her, and that would be ok.

Romance aside, he has to go through that the whole game. Letting the Mantis crew in again. Working things out with everyone, hearing them out, seeing them in their element and finally being at peace with the split - knowing they all made the right decision even if it hurt.

So all the parallels worry me, because yes, he may be more self aware. He might've learned a few lessons, might be more at peace with a few decisions, but the way he just stands in shock at the funeral pyres is just worrisome because you know he's internalizing things. Right when he feels like he's making a step forward, he's taking steps back. The darkness is there now too, and he's going to struggle, because he has more to protect.

This whole experience in survivor was such a crucial point in it but at the same time we know, it's also simultaneously reinforcing his fear of further abandonment and more trust issues, and also his fears of the dark side so I'm kind of nervous to see. Where is all of this culminates to in the next game because he's learned for sure but I also feel like some other things maybe got reinforce that shouldn't have.

Right when he was learning to move on from his attachment to the Fight, he has a new thing, rebuilding Cere's legacy and keeping Tanalorr safe. It's almost like he's doubled up on all of it. Maybe he'll learn to be at peace and let things go but for now, sweet baby boy's trust issues are off the charts!!!!

Anyway maybe none of that made sense and you don't have to agree these are just thoughts after all! Take care!

[comicaurora]

Hiya Red! ♥️

This is in regards to something you mentioned about the OST of Last Unicorn.

I love that film and have watched it many, *many* times! And - like you - I always found the duet distinctly... off. I never could pin down why, I just knew it made me uncomfortable and didn't seem to fit. With the movie or even just the rest of the soundtrack. But when you discribed it as 'out of the singers' range' I had something of an epiphany and I couldn't help but wonder what you'd think of it, so here I am. 😆

What *if* that is actually sneaky characterisation/commentary on the romantic subplot? I mean, this whole soundtrack is so well put together I feel like it has to be intentional, right?

The way I see it both singers are straining just like the characters are, for something that is just out of their reach. And also isn't really right for them. And I feel like on some level they know it. That, I think, is why the climax of the song is particularly discordant. It's to signify that them coming together, as they are doing in the scene, is wrong. For them as people and for the story at large.

Dunno. Just my two cents.

I would love to hear your thoughts on it. IF you have the time and energy to spare! No stress! Most of all I just wanted to let you know about a possible (maybe?) reason for this weird thing, just in case it kept bothering you. (As a fellow ADHD brain I know it be like that sometimes. 😄)

Thank you so much for all your hard work! Love your channel so much! You guys are the best!! And can't wait to see your next stream! (You gotta save my giiiirl!!! 😭🐉)

💖💖💖

Tbh I kinda doubt they'd intentionally make music that sounds bad to do that, when there are many musically pleasing ways to signal that a romantic duet is between characters that are actually incompatible - even things like Love is an Open Door, where "we finish each other's-" "sandwiches!" "That's what I was gonna say!" helpfully hints that Hans is fluidly saying whatever he needs to in order to appeal to Anna without making the audience's ears hurt. One of the more impactful bits of the Death Note musical is that Misa keeps trying to have a romantic duet with Light and Light is much too busy having homoerotic duets with L instead, so Misa ends up basically belting a solo over the much more synced-up music of the dynamic duo. It's a musically pleasing way to signal which characters are in sync and which ones aren't. Several songs in Wicked do this too, like in Dancing Through Life where the romantic duo declare that since they're both perfect they must be perfect together, or the song that basically says "I must be happy, because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true."

I think the main thing that makes that duet not work is that it's one of the only parts of the OST that's sung by the main voice cast rather than a professional singer. The composition is solid, but it kinda sounded like it wasn't composed with their personal ranges in mind - possibly composed before they were cast. They could've done what disney was doing - cast a singer for the character songs and a separate voice actor for the dialogue - which they apparently did in the theatrical release, having Kate Irving sing instead of Mia Farrow, but they didn't for the video release, so the voice actors have to just try their best, possibly with only one or two takes to do it in, and the end result is a bit of a mess.

[brsb4hls]

Saw your post about Rolin and the possible disconnect between him and fandom. I think you might be right in some major ways - Rolin saying there will be “season and seasons”and that every interaction between them is DM might not mean what the fandom thinks.

I am interested in seeing an adaptation of the relationship, but I have to say that the latter half and ending of season two frustrated me. Basically because of how impersonal most of Daniel’s and Armand’s interactions were. I don’t mean that as opposed to romantic mind you (didn’t expect anything like that). I just wanted them to have any kind of personal dynamic and/or interaction at some point? The aftermath of s02e05 was really minimal in terms of of psychological fallout between them - sure Daniel’s angry and there’s the martini comment exchange, but otherwise it was all about Armand trying to save the situation with Louis (trying to spin everything relentlessly as AZ said). I just felt that it all was just in service to the bigger plot, at the cost of psychological realism (and character). Of course Daniel’s options were limited as he can’t really do anything to Armand - but expose the truth, but the relative “causal-ness” of s02e06 felt a bit… unrealistic (and convenient). If we’d seen Armand later turning Daniel in a rage as a consequence - him losing it as he lost Louis - him being angry at Daniel, that would have been something! A kind of showcase of an underlying tension - but Rolin skipping it kinda has made me think he just used the DM dynamic as a plot tool to reveal Armand’s lies. Him saying that the mere fact Armand turned him is something is really disappointing. I wouldn’t mind waiting to see it (since I agree IWTV is Louis’ story) but he’s said it’s not happening so… Plot and character moments can be married together in excellent ways, but I just really didn’t feel that was the case here.

I think to call something DM it has to be about Daniel and Armand, it has to be in some way personal. Armand panicking because his lies are being revealed isn’t it, and Daniel’s turning would have been it - but it was literally skipped so there has not really been any DM on screen. Maybe Armand “apologizing” without meaning a word could count, but I dunno. I would say the closest so far is Daniel’s annoyance (and vice versa) of Armand in s02e01 and s02e03. There’s been no real scene or dialogue actually showing these characters being curious or intrigued about on another - even in s02e05 Armand’s questioning of young Daniel is all anger and jealousy over Louis. He’s very quick to kill Daniel and very quick to being okay with letting him live, pretty nonchalant. Sure there is a few moments of them looking at each other which might indicate curiosity but those moments are so small and don’t have any context so I don’t think they even really count as crumbs (since they could mean anything or nothing). Like I was personally really into having them hate each other/be nemeses (plz give me point for proper plural form ;) ) but there was honestly so little. Like I’ve seen people reacting to this show being confused about why Daniel is relatively unfazed after s02e05 and/or asking if Louis and Daniel even told Armand that they remember. Yes, there’s scenes (sushi bar) which reveals more so people looking closely should be able to tell but it does say something about their minimal change of dynamic. If Rolin does dig into this dynamic next season and makes it personal - he has said they will at least have scenes - I’ll be happy, I just can’t help but worry a bit and I feel it’s too generous if fandom takes his words to mean we’ve already seen DM. Am I making any sense? I’m more than happy to be told I’m wrong or worry too much. Thanks for hearing me out! I enjoy reading your takes, as I feel you are quite sensible and avoid filling the gaps by projecting which I feel some other fans (and probably myself) at times do

Thank you for the long ask!

I was actually going back and forth for a while, since fandom can be pretty convincing, but looking back on my first impression when watching season 1 I was pissed they seemed to have cut the dm storyline by aging Daniel up (not that the age itself is a factor, more the 'lost time') and placing the show in recent times.

I think people might be a bit too positive for different reasons:

1) The ship is book canon, it already exists

2) The actors are ship positive

3) Assad does a lot of interesting micro expressions

4) Rolin does talk about it

Now for why that might not be enough:

1) Yes, it's canon, but a small part compared to a large book series

2) I think they are generally fan positive and think that dynamic is fun

3) Assad is clearly invested in that dynamic, he might have added something acting-wise from his own perspective

4) This is the main part, I think Rolin does have a 'red thread' for his show that's as close to the books as a 'modern' adaption allows. He will follow that thread but stray a bit to put in some extras for the fans.

The first two seasons were clearly about Louis, like the first book. Louis relationship to Lestat, to Armand, to Claudia.

With Daniel as a catalyst or plot device, like you said.

Third season will focus on Lestat.

Armand and Daniel will of course still be there, but not the main focus.

And I feel like Rolin treated dm more like an easter egg. Like Niki. Niki gets a tiny bit of screen time and the cut off hands are mentioned by Louis (unrelated to Niki) and part of the stage play graphics. Easter eggs for the fans.

If Rolin does the Lestat story with flashbacks (which he will, how else would you introduce Gabrielle f.e.) Niki might or might not get revisited.

Devil's minion got the easter egg treatment in the San Francisco bottle episode. There was past interaction, and an intense one, just not erotic or romantic.

Plus a blender mention. And from Rolin's perspective that might be enough.

Like, if he planned on filming as much of the books as possible, dm is not that prominent in the grant scheme of things.

It is prominent to fans of course, (like other characters that haven't even appeared yet are fan faves)

I personally was so taken in by that one chapter back in the day it easily became my favourite ship (and Armand my fave character).

But I think if we where to do statistics the majority of Vampire Chronicle fans are in it for Lestat (and Loustat as background otp, plus other Lestat relationships) or started out as Louis fans or simply fans of vampire horror drama.

And Rolin is trying to give those fans exactly what they want and now gets constantly asked about something that wasn't even exactly on his radar. That must be quite annoying.

And he does sound annoyed altho he's still answering playfully.

And I do agree with you about Daniel's and Armand's interactions. If we leave out Assad's possible extra acting choices there is mostly a competetive dynamic between them, where Armand is somewhat fond of Daniel from his own superior position, but also a bit condescending. And Daniel just wants to one up him.

Also yes, the missing fall out from 2x5. 'You tried to drain me, pal' especially the 'pal' that's such an understatement in regards to the whole situation. 6 days of physical and psychological torture and Armand just going 'well you also did drugs, same thing basically'.

So yes, while I do love to clown and enjoy all the dm posts and the cast being so positive about it, I don't think much was planned.

It might change due to popularity, depending on wether Rolin isn't too annoyed and how it fits the script.

They could also still do a reverse chase in the background without a 'romantic' plot simply with Armand going completely off the rails and Daniel still wanting to confront him about his turning.

I do hope for the classic enemies to whatever they have trope of course, but it doesn't have to happen. If every interaction between them is dm-coded already to Rolin he might simply go with a tense fledgling/maker thing.

Well, I cross my fingers, but if I'm staying realistic I don't get disappointed too much. ;)

And I gotta say, Rockstar Lestat looks fun af.

So that's at least something to look forward to.

And we'll always have Daniel being Armand's only fledgling! (Plus a ton of fan works, and that's always a comfort. But hey, maybe we do get a positive surprise.)

[itstobias149]

The media and Steel

Here is a long little lore dump from the eyes of Motel’, kinda as if he was talking to the media. Seeing things from his perspective!

TW:Depression, Abandonment, alcoholism

“How do I feel about guys hitting on my mom? God-” He looked up at the ceiling before looking forward again.

“Look, I love my mom, alright? She’s great. She’s tough, she raised me, she puts up with you idiots, and she’s one of the only people around here with an actual brain. But for the love of God, why does every weirdo in this organization have to fall in love with her?!”

“It’s like she walks into the room, and suddenly, half the locker room turns into lovesick puppies. It’s disgusting. I’ve seen grown men—big, scary, undefeated boxers—turn into blushing schoolboys just because she handed them an ice pack. It makes me sick.”

“Bull and Soda? Please. They’re both so obvious about it. Bull’s over here puffing his chest out like a damn rooster, and Soda acts like he’s some smooth-talking ladies’ man, but every time he talks to her, he turns into a giggling mess. And don’t even get me started on Joe! That guy practically worships the ground she walks on. It’s pathetic. I get she is one of the only reasons he's some how not dead- but give it up. I can’t even go two minutes without one of them asking, ‘Oh, how’s Marie doing?’ Like, I dunno, man, fine, can we talk about literally anything else?! Or they pick on me in the ring about it-”

“You know what the worst part is? She’s oblivious. Absolutely clueless. Or she fucking acts like she is. She could have a guy on one knee, professing his undying love, and she’d just go, ‘Oh, that’s nice, dear,’ and walk away! Meanwhile, I’m sitting here watching it all happen like I’m in some kind of bad romantic comedy!”

“And don’t even think about suggesting that I should be happy for her. No. Absolutely not. She’s my mom. I refuse to acknowledge any of this. She doesn’t need some lovesick boxer hanging around, she’s fine on her own! The moment she starts actually liking someone back? That’s it. I’m leaving. I’m moving to another country. I will not be around to see that unfold.”

“So yeah. Keep your crushes to yourselves. Or better yet, get better taste, you freaks.”

“And soda and bull- OH GOD-”

“You know, it wasn’t just about Soda or Bull, alright? It wasn’t just them messing things up. It’s bigger than that—way bigger.” Motel’ clenches his fist, exhaling sharply as he talks, his voice full of frustration.

“I’ve been around enough to know when things are… off, you know? When she started with Soda, I could see it. I don’t even know if she really liked him. She was just looking for something—anything that felt real, I guess. But Soda? He was a disaster from the start. Yeah, he acted like he was some tragic figure, but every time he opened his mouth, I knew it wasn’t going anywhere. The guy’s been stuck in his own mess for years, and she… she just tried to fix it.”

“I don’t know if I could blame her for getting caught up in that. Maybe she wanted to fix him. Maybe she thought she could be the one to get him to see his worth. She’s like that. Always putting everyone else’s needs ahead of hers. She should’ve seen it sooner, but she didn’t.”

“And then came Bull. Bull. Big, tough guy, right? Could probably knock out anyone in the ring. But he… he didn’t take her seriously. You know that, right? He’d put on this tough-guy act, all ‘I’m too macho for love,’ and then turn into some emotional wreck the second he wasn’t getting what he wanted. He’d use her, make her feel sorry for him with all his ‘I’m not good enough for you’ crap. Like, really, Bull? You think I didn’t see that?”

Motel’ shakes his head, growing more agitated as he continues.

“And you wanna know the worst part? They weren’t the problem—no, not really. The problem was the damn media, and the damn WVBA. The second they sniffed out some ‘drama’ between those three, they went wild. They started digging into everything—every little thing, trying to twist it into some kind of soap opera. And you think she wasn’t affected by it? You think she didn’t feel that? Watching her name plastered across the front of magazines because of that nonsense? It tore her up. It made things worse, made her feel like she was some kind of joke. She didn’t deserve any of that.”

“But it gets worse. They ruined it. The people who are supposed to be in her corner? They used her. They knew she had issues. They knew about the drinking—yeah, I’m saying it, alright? My mom, Marie, she’s a closet alcoholic. She’s been hiding it for years, but you think the WVBA didn’t know that? They could smell the blood in the water, and they saw her vulnerability. They used it. They milked that drama, encouraged the damn fights and the trash talk between Soda, Bull, and her. They made it worse. They made her feel like the only thing that mattered was her past, her relationship history, her mistakes. She was just a story to them.”

Motel’ pauses, his hands trembling slightly as he runs them through his hair, trying to keep his cool. But the more he talks, the angrier he gets.

“So, you tell me. What the hell did she get out of all that? A couple of weeks of headlines? A few extra paychecks? What did she get? Bull left, Soda left, and she was stuck with all the crap people said about her. And the worst part? She started drinking more. Not because she wanted to—it’s because she couldn’t deal with any of it. The stress. The publicity. The pressure of trying to keep it together for everyone, including me.”

Motel’ scoffs, his voice lowering into something almost like regret.

“And then she’d just smile, like everything was fine. She’d pretend nothing was wrong. It’s all she’s ever done. Just… act like it doesn’t matter, like she’s fine. But I know. I always know.”

“So, yeah. I’m angry. I’m angry at those two, sure. But mostly? I’m angry at how it all went down. The damn media turned it into a circus, and now everyone’s gonna think she’s just some girl who got tangled up in Soda and Bull’s drama. And that’s not who she is. Not even close. She deserved so much better.”

Motel’ leans back, his expression softening just a little, like he’s wrestling with his own thoughts now, processing everything that’s been building up inside him. His hands drop to his lap, and he starts talking more quietly, but there’s still an edge to his voice—a mix of understanding and anger, a sense of helplessness.

“You know, maybe… maybe there was something real there. With one of them, I don’t know… I don’t think she ever really told me the whole story. Maybe she didn’t even want to. But I think… I think for a minute, she had something with Soda. And I’m not saying that like it was some stupid fling, either. I think there was something there that she really wanted to hold onto. Something real. But the media—the media—they ruined that. They made everything a joke, a headline, something for them to cash in on. That was the end of it, right there.”

“She never had the chance to figure it out. The second they made it this big love triangle thing, everything changed. It went from being something that was hers, something private, to this huge spectacle where every little thing she did got picked apart. That pressure was so damn heavy, she couldn’t even think straight.”

Motel’ takes a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he starts to pace a little, as if trying to shake off the weight of the memories.

“It didn’t just affect her, either. It messed with everything at home. One day, I’d walk in, and she’d be sitting there, laughing with Soda—just completely gone. A bottle of vodka between them, her smile just a little too wide. And the next, she’d be back with Bull, all serious, like the whole damn thing with Soda never happened. It was like a weird, twisted game to her—at least that’s what it looked like from the outside.”

Motel’ shakes his head, his voice dropping as he talks more about how it messed with his life.

“And it made my home life weird too. You want to know what it felt like? It felt like I had no stable ground. One minute, I’d be around with Soda, trying to hang out, trying to ignore the fact that my mom was so far gone she didn’t even know what was happening around her. Then the next minute, I’d have to deal with Bull, all tough guy act again, like nothing ever happened. And I’d sit there, just… confused. Not knowing which version of her I was gonna get. It was like I was living in two different worlds that didn’t connect. I couldn’t make sense of any of it.”

Motel’ lets out a long, shaky breath, then scoffs, running a hand through his hair as the bitterness seeps back in.

“You know what’s worse? She lost two friendships because of that mess. Two of her closest friends. Soda and Bull—those were her people. They weren’t just some guys she hung out with. They meant something to her. But the way everything went down? They couldn’t stay. They couldn’t just be there without all the drama in the way. They left—Soda with his issues, and Bull, with his… whatever the hell that was. She lost them. And now it’s just her, and me. And I gotta pick up the pieces.”

Motel’ pauses, his eyes narrowing as he digs into what he’s feeling, the realization hitting him all at once.

“And me? I lost them, too. They weren’t just her friends, they were… they were like father figures to me, y’know? Bull was the only guy who’d ever talk to me like I wasn’t just some kid. He used to tell me stories, make me feel like I could do anything. And then there was Soda. The guy wasn’t perfect—hell, far from it—but he had a way of making me laugh, making me forget about the crap at home. But after everything went down, they disappeared, like it never mattered to them.”

“So now what? I don’t have them to lean on. I don’t have anyone I can really trust. Just my mom, and she’s… she’s not who she used to be. She’s… different now. And I’m just trying to make sense of all of it, trying to find some kind of normal, and it’s like the world just keeps spinning out of control around me. The media, the drama—it just ruins everything.”

His eyes flicker with frustration, but now there’s an underlying sadness that wasn’t there before. He’s not just angry about the situation anymore; he’s grieving.

“Yeah. It’s messed up. Everything about it. And I’m still pissed about it, don’t get me wrong. But deep down? I’m just… sad. Sad about what happened to her. Sad about what they took away from us. They didn’t just ruin a love triangle. They ruined everything.”

Motel’ stops pacing and sits back down, his posture slumped, defeated for a moment. The anger is still there, but it’s tempered by a more profound sense of loss. He’s realizing more than just the surface damage of the failed relationships; he’s seeing the bigger picture—how it all spiraled out of control.

He’s stuck between hating what happened and still trying to protect what’s left of his family.

“Mothers personality? Oh you have no idea man-”

Motel’ shifts in his seat, his frustration growing again, like it’s bubbling just beneath the surface. The sadness from earlier hasn’t gone away, but now there’s a bitter edge to it, like he’s finally allowing himself to voice everything that’s been festering inside him for so long. His hands tremble slightly as he clenches them into fists, almost like he’s trying to hold onto whatever control he has left.

“She wears a mask, you know? Every damn day. Like it’s some kind of shield she can hide behind.”

His voice shakes with anger now, each word coming out more sharply than the last.

“She acts like everything’s fine, like she’s fine, like none of this… none of this has ever affected her. But I see it. I see right through it. You ever notice that? She’ll sit there, all calm, all smiley, like nothing ever happened, and she’ll try to act like she’s fine. She’ll tell me, ‘I’m fine, Motel’. Yeah? Really? Is that so? Because it’s not just the drinking—it’s like she’s living in some kind of… fake reality, where everything is okay because if she doesn’t pretend it is, then the whole damn thing might crumble.”

Motel’ slams his fist down on the table, his voice rising with every word, frustration leaking out in waves.

“And you wanna know the worst part? She’s been doing it for years. Ever since… since everything started falling apart. She keeps acting like it’s all fine, like she’s got it under control, like she’s the one who’s supposed to hold everything together. But I’m telling you, it’s killing her inside. It’s killing her, and she doesn’t know how to stop.”

He stands up, pacing again, but now it’s more like he’s trying to outrun the thoughts that have been haunting him. He stops for a moment, gripping the back of a chair, his eyes clouded with frustration.

“I can’t keep pretending like I don’t see it. She’ll get home after a long day, and she’ll pour herself a drink. And she’ll sip it, and smile, like she’s okay. But I see the way her hands shake. I see the way her eyes look. They look… tired. Like she’s been carrying the weight of the world and doesn’t know how to put it down. And when I try to ask her if she’s alright, she brushes it off, like it’s nothing. She’s fine, she says. She’s always fine.”

Motel’s voice cracks for a split second, and he quickly shakes his head, trying to push it back down. His breath comes out in short bursts, like he’s trying to control the storm inside him.

“But I know it’s not fine. I know it’s not. And you wanna know what kills me? She thinks that if she keeps pretending, if she just puts on that damn mask, everything will be okay. But it’s not, and I can’t—I can’t—keep watching her do that. It’s like she thinks if she keeps it all together, then I won’t see it. But I do. I see the cracks. I see how she’s barely holding on, but she keeps smiling, pretending everything’s perfect for me, like I can’t tell she’s lying to my face.”

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing again, voice getting more desperate, more raw.

“I know why she does it. I know why she puts on this damn act. She doesn’t want me to see her weakness. She doesn’t want me to see how broken she really is because… because I think she thinks I’ll start hating her for it. But it’s worse when she does this, okay? It’s worse when she pretends—because it makes me think she’s okay. It makes me think maybe she’s got it under control. But she doesn’t. She’s just… hiding. Hiding behind all this fake ‘everything’s fine’ crap, and it’s not fair.”

Motel’ slumps down into a chair, staring at the floor, his face pale, his anger starting to dissipate into a hollow ache. He’s so tired—tired of seeing her like this, tired of trying to hold it together when all he wants is for his mom to be real, to stop pretending like it doesn’t hurt.

“I just want her to be real with me, y’know? To stop putting on this damn mask, stop pretending like she’s okay when she’s not. I get it, I really do… she doesn’t want me to worry. But all she’s doing is pushing me away. And I… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Motel’ stares down at his hands, his voice quieter now, tinged with a deep sadness.

“I just want her to let me in. I want to be the one who can help her. But it’s like I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

For the first time in a long while, Motel’ feels like he’s spoken the truth, but it hasn’t brought any relief. It’s just left him feeling more empty, like there’s no way to fix what’s broken, no way to stop the endless cycle of pretending.

“My skills… well..”

Motel’ takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his eyes are still clouded with emotion. His fingers tap rhythmically on the table, like he’s trying to work through his thoughts, his words tumbling out in a quiet, almost confessional tone.

“You know… it wasn’t supposed to be this way. It wasn’t supposed to be like this with her.”

His voice cracks a little, but he doesn’t pause, just keeps going, like he’s unraveling a memory he doesn’t want to hold onto anymore but can’t help himself.

“When I was in that damn orphanage, I didn’t have anyone. Just the walls, the constant noise, and the feeling of being… forgotten. And then there she was. Marie. She came in like some kind of miracle, you know? I didn’t expect it. I didn’t even ask for it. But she looked at me, and she saw me. She didn’t see some screwed-up kid from the system. She saw me—just me. And she took me out of there, like… like I was worth something.”

Motel’ stops, his fingers now digging into the wood of the table, the tension in his posture rising.

“She didn’t have to do that. She didn’t have to save me. I was just another messed-up kid, probably destined to stay in that hellhole forever. But she pulled me out. She made me feel like I actually had a shot at something. And she didn’t ask for anything in return. She just… gave. And I don’t think she’ll ever understand what that really meant to me.”

He shakes his head, the words almost too heavy to get out.

“But now? Now it’s my turn. I know she doesn’t get paid much, and she works herself to the bone to make sure I have what I need, to make sure I’m taken care of. And it kills me. It kills me every day to see her struggle. She gave me everything, and now it’s like… I can’t give her anything back.”

He leans back in his chair, his expression darkening as he lets out a frustrated sigh. His words get sharper, the anger and guilt mixing together.

“So yeah, I cheat. I cheat because I can’t stand seeing her work herself to death, getting by with nothing. I know it’s not right. I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I’ll be damned if I sit back and let her keep struggling when I can do something about it. She deserves so much more than she has now. She deserves the world.”

He leans forward now, his eyes burning with intensity, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. His fists clench again, and he speaks through gritted teeth.

“She saved me, and now it’s my turn to try and save her. If that means I have to bend the rules, then so be it. I’ll cheat, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t have to keep sacrificing everything for me. I just want her to have the damn world, y’know? She’s spent so much of her life giving everything to me, and I… I just want to give something back. Something real. Something that can finally make up for everything she’s done.”

Motel’ slouches back in his seat, his expression softer now, but still heavy with the guilt and responsibility he’s carrying. His eyes stare at the floor, distant, like he’s not sure where to go from here.

“I don’t know if it’s enough. I don’t know if she’ll ever see it. But I’m doing what I have to do. Because she deserves better than this. She deserves better than me cheating, but what else am I supposed to do when she’s the only one who ever believed in me? She made me feel like I wasn’t just another lost cause. So I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets what she deserves.”

His voice goes quieter at the end, almost like he’s telling himself more than anyone else. He knows it’s messed up, but for him, it’s the only way he knows how to balance the scales, even if it means making himself just as guilty.

Shifting gears

Motel’ leans back in his chair, the intensity in his expression starting to fade as he takes a long, slow breath. He’s been wound up for so long, but now he’s shifting gears, almost like he’s searching for a way to ground himself again, to focus on something he actually enjoys. His voice softens as he speaks again, a hint of something lighter in his tone, like he’s finding solace in talking about the things that help him escape.

“I guess, if you really want to know… there’s more to me than just this mess. Stuff that doesn’t make me feel… like this.”

He gestures vaguely, as if the weight of the conversation is still lingering, but he’s trying to let it go. Then, with a small shrug, he starts to list off things that have always been there for him when the real world got too heavy.

“For one, I’ve got my motorcycle. That’s my freedom. It’s my escape, y’know? When I’m on that thing, it’s like nothing else matters. I can just ride and forget about all the crap, just me and the road. I don’t even care if I get lost sometimes. It’s better than dealing with everything else.”

He rubs the back of his neck, a quiet laugh escaping him.

“And then there’s my anime collection. Don’t laugh, okay? It’s one of the few things that helped me make sense of everything when I didn’t know how to deal with life. I’ve got boxes of them, DVDs, Blu-rays, manga, figurines. It’s like my own little world where none of this—”

He gestures again, but this time, it’s more pointed, like he’s talking about the weight of his responsibilities and emotions.

”—none of this has to follow me. I’ve spent hours getting lost in those stories, in those characters. It was like a place where I could just… breathe. And yeah, I’m into cosplay too. It’s not just about dressing up. It’s about becoming someone else for a while. A way to forget about the real world, to step into a life where everything’s a little simpler. Maybe I’m just running from myself, I don’t know.”

Motel’ pauses, tapping his fingers along the arm of the chair, and his expression changes. There’s a soft smile there, one that’s almost nostalgic, as if he’s remembering something more personal, even sacred.

“I’ve got this weird thing with Miku too. Not in some creepy, obsessed-with-her-way. It’s not about being attracted to her or anything. It’s just… I guess she became my escape. Whenever things got too much, I’d put on her music, or play with the figures, and just zone out. Her songs, the colors, the beats… it was a world where I could drown out everything and just focus on something simple. Something I could control. Maybe it sounds dumb, but… it helped.”

Motel’ leans forward a little, his hands fidgeting as he talks about it. He’s opening up, but there’s a vulnerability in his words now, like these hobbies are the last things that keep him from completely losing himself.

“And, I don’t know, I guess that’s why I want to do something with comics. I can draw, you know. I’ve been drawing anime style for years, ever since I was a kid. It was like, another way for me to express what I couldn’t say. But, now? I’ve got these ideas, and I wanna bring them to life. I want to create my own worlds, my own stories. Maybe if I can do that, maybe I can stop feeling like I’m just a side character in my own life.”

His eyes flicker with something like hope for a moment, but it’s quickly hidden beneath the usual guardedness. Still, it’s there—a glimpse of something Motel’ wants for himself, a dream that feels a little too big to reach.

“I guess it’s not just about the escape anymore. It’s about… wanting to make something real, something I can look at and say, ‘Yeah, this is me.’ And, I mean, I play games too. Stuff like osu, DDR, Touhou—just to kill time, mostly. But… there’s something about those games that gets me in the zone. It’s just about hitting the right notes, hitting the right steps, keeping in sync. Maybe that’s all I’m looking for—a little bit of order in all the chaos.”

Motel’ exhales, his posture finally relaxing as he talks about these things that have always been there, the small pockets of peace in his otherwise chaotic life. There’s still a lot weighing on him, but for a moment, he’s just a kid with some dreams, a bike, and a collection of things that make him feel like he matters.

Motel’ pauses for a moment, the silence hanging in the air. He leans back in his chair, his eyes staring at something far away, like he’s trying to pinpoint the moment when everything shifted, when these hobbies became more than just distractions but essential lifelines. His voice lowers, as if he’s inviting someone into his mind, showing them parts of himself he doesn’t normally share.

“The bike… that thing, it’s not just metal and wheels to me. It’s my freedom. When I’m on it, it’s like I can finally breathe. Like I’m not weighed down by everything. I can just lose myself to the hum of the engine and the rush of the wind. It’s the only time I feel like the world isn’t closing in on me. When I get on the bike, I forget about the bills, the pressure, Marie’s problems, the fighting… everything. I don’t have to think, I just go. It’s my reset button, my escape.”

He gives a small, bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“I know it sounds kinda ridiculous, but… it’s like I can leave all the bullshit behind me on the road. When I’m in my helmet, just speeding down the highway, it’s the only time I’m not worried about anyone. No one’s telling me how to live my life. I’m just a guy on a bike.”

The faintest smile crosses his face, but it quickly disappears as he shifts to the next thing, the one that’s almost as much a part of him as the bike.

“Anime… that’s where it all started for me. When I was a kid, I wasn’t exactly popular. People looked at me like I was some freak. And then I found these shows—these characters who had problems like mine but still managed to do something, to fight for something. I wasn’t just some messed-up kid anymore. I was a part of something bigger. It was like I could breathe a little easier, like maybe I wasn’t as messed up as I thought.”

His hand instinctively reaches for his sleeve, pulling it down over his wrist, almost like he’s hiding something, but the shift in his body language tells the story anyway.

“The collection? It’s massive, honestly. I’ve got manga that goes on for miles, figurines that I’ve spent hours on end hunting down, posters—hell, even DVDs. It’s all a way to hold onto that feeling, y’know? Of not being alone, of seeing these characters, these stories that mean something more than just… whatever the hell happens in the real world. For a while, it was just me and them. And it wasn’t so bad.”

His voice softens a little, and there’s a tenderness in the way he talks about it, as if the world of anime was his safe space, his haven from the uglier parts of reality.

“But then there’s the cosplay. Man… It’s like when I dress up, I’m not me anymore. I can be someone else. Someone powerful. Someone who isn’t stuck in the middle of all this mess. I get to step into their shoes, live their life, and for a little while, I can forget what’s really going on. I can forget about… everything. And maybe that’s why I do it, you know? It’s not about showing off or looking cool—well, maybe it’s a little bit about looking cool—but it’s more about the escape. Being able to be something else for a little bit, instead of just… this guy, the one who’s got too many problems and not enough ways to deal with them.”

A slight pause lingers before he moves on to the next piece of his odd collection of interests, his voice becoming quieter, almost hesitant.

“Miku… yeah, I’ve got a thing with her. But not in the way you think. I’m not obsessed with her. I’m not some… creepy fanboy or anything like that. It’s just… there’s something about her that helped me when nothing else could. Her music, her voice, it was like a lifeline. Like if I could just focus on her songs, just hear those notes, I could drown out everything else that was eating me alive. It was a way to escape the pressure, to take a mental break, to be somewhere else for just a little while.”

Motel’ fidgets with the sleeve of his jacket, as if that one confession is harder to admit than the others. He’s vulnerable here, but he lets it spill anyway, his words laced with a sense of longing—like Miku and her world gave him a break when nothing else could.

“And yeah, I know, it’s probably silly to some people, but… that stuff mattered to me. It was more than just a phase. It was how I coped. I don’t know… maybe it sounds childish, but it was like… she was the only thing that could really calm me down when everything else felt like it was falling apart.”

His voice steadies as he talks about something else that’s been on his mind for a while. His fingers trace an imaginary line along the armrest, his thoughts settling on a more concrete dream.

“But, I guess I’ve got other dreams, too. Something that’s always been with me, deep down, is drawing. I’ve always been good at it—drawing in that anime style. It’s the one thing I’ve been able to focus on for hours without feeling like I’m wasting time. I’ve got notebooks full of sketches, ideas for comics that I’ve never shown anyone. People think I’m just some messed-up kid who can’t figure it out, but they don’t know this side of me.”

His smile returns, faint but there. A little spark of pride creeps into his voice as he talks about his drawings.

“I want to create something. I want to be a comic artist. I want to build my own worlds, my own characters, ones that people can look at and say, ‘Yeah, that guy gets it.’ I don’t know if I’m good enough yet, but I can’t stop. I don’t think I’ll ever stop drawing. It’s the one thing that keeps me going when everything else is just… too much.”

Motel’ pauses again, his mind flicking back to something else he finds joy in. The light in his eyes flickers, like he’s returning to that place where his passions take over.

“And then, there’s the games. Games like osu, DDR, Touhou… they’re my little moment of zen, y’know? When I’m playing those games, it’s just about timing, precision. It’s like my brain shuts off all the noise, and I just focus on the game. I’m good at them, too—better than most people think. The rhythm, the beats, the pattern—it’s all about staying in the moment, hitting the right notes at the right time. It’s a lot like my drawing, in a way. It’s all about hitting the right spots and finding my rhythm. And when I’m in that zone? I forget about everything else.”

He shrugs as if to dismiss it, but there’s a lightness in his voice now, like he’s finally settled into a space where his hobbies aren’t just escapism—they’re a lifeline, a way to hold onto something pure, something he can control, even if everything around him feels out of his grasp.

“So yeah, maybe I’m a little… odd? But those things, they’re mine. They’ve always been mine, and when nothing else seems to make sense, at least they do. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll help me find a way to be more than just… the messed-up kid with too many problems.”

Motel’ leans back in his chair, the weight of his words lingering in the air. His face softens, the vulnerability gone for now, replaced with a quiet kind of resolve. His hobbies are more than just distractions—they’re his way of fighting back against a world that never seemed to give him much of a chance.

Big ol Miku nerd

Motel’ suddenly gets this spark in his eyes, as if he’s finally found a topic he can truly dive into without hesitation. He leans forward, his hands gesturing wildly, more animated than he’s been the entire conversation. The shift is immediate, like flipping a switch from cool detachment to pure, unfiltered nerd energy.

“Okay, okay, so, Miku’s not just some random character. She’s a freaking phenomenon, alright? Like, she’s the pioneer of virtual idols! She’s literally the reason Vocaloid took off in the first place! You think about it, she’s got this insane, supernatural appeal, y’know? Her voice isn’t even real! It’s like synthesized magic, dude!”

He almost bounces out of his seat, clearly thrilled to talk about this. He pulls out his phone and starts showing pictures of his Miku collection—posters, figurines, even some limited-edition merchandise.

“I mean, look at these! These posters? Limited edition stuff, man. The designs are sick! Each one has this unique art style that reflects different eras of Miku’s growth. Like, the one with the neon colors? That was from when she first got popular in Japan! The first time I saw her, I thought, ‘Damn, this is the future of music,’ you know?”

His voice rises with each word, getting faster as the excitement builds. His eyes are wide, almost feverish.

“And don’t even get me started on the music! Her songs are so freakin’ diverse! You got pop, you got electronic, you got rock, and you’ve got some deep experimental stuff! There’s literally no limit to what she can do. I’ve spent hours just listening to her stuff, dissecting the beats, the lyrics. Her concerts, man… the virtual reality ones? INSANE! She performs in 3D holograms—like, what?! That’s next-level tech!”

He pulls out a figurine of Miku, twirling it in his hands, his face lighting up like a kid in a candy store.

“I even cosplay as her, dude! I’ve got the whole getup—wig, outfit, the gloves, the shoes, everything. It’s perfect! I swear, when I put it all on, I feel like I’m stepping into another world. You’ve seen the outfits she’s had, right? The futuristic, sleek designs? The ones with the digital patterns? Yeah, I’ve got like, five of those replicas in my closet. And don’t get me started on the Miku-chan plushies. Every time I get a new one, I’m like, ‘Yup, my collection’s complete… for now.’”

He paces a little, his hands moving faster as he continues to nerd out about Miku, his passion impossible to contain.

“Okay, okay, but the best part about Miku—besides her voice and style—is that she’s this symbol. She’s a reflection of the future, like a digital artist’s dream, you know? She’s not a real person, but her fanbase—that’s real. I’ve met so many people who bond over her, and it’s like… we’re all part of this underground culture, and she’s our icon. Plus, she has the best songs to get hyped to! You ever listen to ‘The World Is Mine’? It’s like the anthem of I’m not here to play, I’m here to conquer—just pure power!”

He’s practically bouncing now, hands flying all over the place, as if trying to keep up with the flood of thoughts racing through his head.

“And the artwork, man—the art! Do you know how many different artists have done Miku’s designs over the years? Some of the art is so out there, it makes you think, ‘How did they even come up with this?’ I love drawing Miku, too, y’know. I mean, I’m still figuring out my style, but when I draw her, it’s like… I get to channel her energy. Every brushstroke, every line is like, this little tribute to how perfect she is in my eyes.”

Motel’ stops pacing, his hands settling as he lets out a content sigh, clearly in his element.

“It’s not even about liking her. It’s about what she represents—the freedom, the creativity, the escape. And yeah, the cosplay? That’s just me getting to live it, for a second. I get to be Miku. The ultimate idol. I swear, if they ever made a live-action Miku movie, I’d be first in line to buy tickets, and you bet I’d be there in full costume. You think I wouldn’t? Please, I’d probably camp out for days to make sure I got the best seat.”

He gives a small, self-aware chuckle, but there’s no shame in it. His passion shines through, unfiltered, as he settles back into his chair, still grinning like a dorky fanboy.

“Anyway, I just—Miku’s not a phase. She’s like… my thing, my comfort. I can’t really explain it any other way.”

He lets out another satisfied breath, as if all his pent-up enthusiasm has been released. His grin fades slightly, but there’s this quiet sense of fulfillment in his eyes now, like he’s finally been able to share something that really matters to him.

Motel’ leans back, a distant look in his eyes, and his voice softens, as if he’s recounting a moment that stands out, something personal but also kind of precious. There’s a slight grin tugging at his lips, the memory bringing him warmth even as he digs into the past.

“Man, you wouldn’t believe it… but one time, I actually got Mom to go to a Miku concert with me. It was a real one—like, the hologram, full-on virtual experience where she’s projected onto the stage. I had my glow stick wand thing, and I convinced her to wear one too. She was so reluctant at first—she was like, ‘Motel’, I’m not doing this.’ You know how she is, right? But I didn’t give up.”

He chuckles at the memory, a playful edge in his voice.

“So, I finally got her to go, and we were in the crowd, just vibing out. I handed her the wand, and at first, she looked at it like, ‘What the hell do I do with this?’ But you know what? Once the lights dimmed and the music started, something changed. She just got it. She started waving it around, and I swear, it was like I was seeing a different side of her. She was actually having fun!”

Motel’ grins widely, his hands waving around in imitation of the concert’s energy. His voice picks up again, getting a little more animated, like he’s reliving that night.

“And when Miku appeared on the screen, she was all holographic, dancing and singing like she was actually there. The crowd went wild, and Mom? She was right there with us. We were right there with Miku. I swear, it was like everything else faded away for a little while—no worries, no drama, just music and lights. For once, it felt like we were just… in the moment, y’know?”

He pauses, a small sigh escaping as he remembers the peacefulness of that night, how fleeting it felt in comparison to the chaos that always seemed to follow them.

“Mom even started singing along to a couple of songs—yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. She knew the words. It was like this secret side of her came out. She’d always been so serious, so… heavy, but there, under the lights, with the glow sticks in our hands? She was just another fan, having fun. It was like I wasn’t just some kid dragging her to some weird concert; I was sharing a piece of myself with her. Something I love. Something I cared about. And she was there with me, no questions asked.”

He smiles, but there’s something bittersweet about the way he talks about it, like he wishes that moment could have lasted longer, or that maybe, just maybe, they could have had more moments like that.

“After the concert, we walked out of there, still waving our wands. Mom looked so… I don’t know, light—like all the tension had just melted off her. She even laughed a bit on the way home. I can’t remember the last time I heard her laugh like that, honestly.”

His expression fades a little, the warmth from the memory still there but tinged with an undercurrent of longing.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a night like that again, though. You know how it goes—life hits you, and you move on. But that… that was one of those rare moments where things felt perfect. We were just Mom and Motel’, two weirdos at a Miku concert, glowing in the dark together. It was nice.”

He trails off, his voice growing quieter, as if the weight of what he’s shared has finally settled in. But despite the nostalgia, there’s a small smile on his face, as if he’s holding on to that memory a little tighter now.

HE FORGOT THIS WAS LIVE LMAO

Motel’ suddenly straightens up, his eyes widening in horror as if he just realized something crucial. His carefree expression falters, and he starts running his hands through his hair, frantically thinking it over.

“Oh. Oh, shit.”

He leans back against the chair, suddenly looking more tense and panicked than he’s ever been before. His voice drops an octave, almost a whisper, as if he’s talking to himself, trying to process what just happened.

“Did I—did I really just say all that? On TV? About Mom, and the whole Miku thing? Oh my god.”

He rubs his face with his hands, muttering to himself in disbelief, almost as if he can’t believe it came out of his mouth.

“This is it, isn’t it? I’ve ruined my whole ‘bad boy’ image. I just went full-on nerd on live TV. If any of the other boxers see this—I’m dead. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

His heart rate picks up as he imagines the backlash. He can already picture the teasing, the snickers. The looks of disbelief on guys like Bull, Soda, and Von Kaiser’s faces. He’d never live it down.

“Man, I was supposed to be the tough guy, the one with the edge, y’know? The guy who doesn’t give a damn about anyone or anything. But now I just spilled my guts about… glow sticks and Miku cosplay?!”

Motel’ sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, his mind racing. His bad-boy persona had been his armor, the thing that kept everyone at arm’s length. Now he just felt exposed—too exposed.

“This is gonna be so bad. Bull’s gonna be the first to call me out, all smug, like, ‘What, you a fan of pop idols now, Motel’? And Soda? Oh, he’s gonna have a field day with this. He’s gonna call me a ‘softie,’ a ‘dork,’ and then it’s all over from there.”

He groans, covering his face for a moment, as if trying to block out the inevitable teasing. He can already hear the mockery in his head.

“Doc’s gonna look at me like he doesn’t know who I am anymore. He’s supposed to be my mentor, but shit, he’s gonna be so disappointed. He’s been trying to shape me into this fighter, this ‘tough guy,’ and now I’m just—just this awkward, anime-obsessed mess.”

His breathing quickens, and for a split second, it’s clear just how much he cares about the image he’s built for himself, how much he’s afraid of it crumbling. His tough exterior, his cool façade—all of it had been a front, a way to protect himself from the world.

“No, no, no. I can’t let them see this. They’ll think I’m weak, or worse, they’ll think I’m a joke. The guys in the locker room? They’ll never let me live this down. Ever.”

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but the panic is still there, lingering in the back of his mind. His cool, bad-boy persona feels more fragile now, cracking under the weight of what he just revealed.

“What the hell was I thinking? Why did I let it slip like that? Why? Now I have to either double down and pretend like none of this ever happened, or… or just roll with it and hope they don’t tear me apart.”

He slumps forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands in his hair again. His usual cocky confidence is nowhere to be found now. Instead, there’s just a frustrated, anxious kid who’s realizing that maybe his image—maybe everything he’s built—might not be as indestructible as he thought.

“God, if anyone else sees this… I’m gonna be a meme. A laughing stock. I was just supposed to be Motel’—the guy who doesn’t care, the guy who does whatever the hell he wants. Now? Now I’m just… Miku-loving loser.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, trying to collect himself, but the fear of being exposed for who he really is—the vulnerability, the emotions, the deep connection to his mom—has shaken him more than he expected. He can already picture the other boxers’ smirks, the teasing, the way they’ll call him soft. He wonders, just for a moment, if they’ll even respect him anymore.

ANYWAY I hope you guys liked this💕✨