#even i can mostly feel it more than i can hear it

[scartale-an-undertale-au]

So... I see this a decade after i decided to simply... Stop instigating conversations because i felt like im simply burdening others with my presence and that they actually felt annoyed having to hear from me and wished i wouldnt send messages.

The thing is that none of them ever approached me afterwards. When we saw each other after a while we would be ecstatic but there was a wall between us already and i dont know if its simply life going on and us being very different than back then, or that they truly didnt see me the same as i saw them (as my besties).

One time i met one of them (this one specifically was my best friend from first grade until twelve basically) on the street and i see that she's married and walking with her husband. Turns out the wedding was that sunday and i wasnt even notified of it happening or of the engagement. I wasnt mad about not being invited, but i was hurt for not even being notified! She then turned to her husband and said that im a friend of her from high school.

Its been a decade from high school so i can see why she said that, but that hurt me so badly that the moment i waved them goodbye and they disappeared around a corner, i collapsed and just sobbed. I was so heartbroken. It seemed that i was the only one who still thought of her as my old school's bestie or had thought of including her in any future milestones simply because she was so important to me.

So i dont know how i feel about this post. I understand where you guys are coming from and its in good intentions, but the main issue is that many kids who become the sole instigators were never shown that they can be vulnerable in front of their friends about this matter. It felt like its your duty and how you contribute to the group. And when it became harder and harder, the friends never questioned why you pulled away or asked for your wellbeing. It turned into a situation when you feel more like a nuisance than a leader.

Fortunately, i have now friends who instigate so much more than me and i keep telling them how i appreciate it and apologise for how terrible i am at texting back and that its never because i dont want them to text me. Its simply because texting or answering messages had become so hard for me and so mentally taxing i sometimes shut down when i see messages i need to reply to.

So rambling aside, as much as i appreciate your sentiment, i think a different approach would be helpful.

My approach (which is not better or worse, just a different approach) is to get comfortable with a 'friends for one day' reality. I go so many times to so many places and meet so many amazing people, we always say we'll contact one another and keep in touch and then never contact one another again, and that's alright.

You have to be comfortable with being friends without focusing on the 'keeping the friendship going' let people come and go. Those who truly want to stick around will stick around, and they usually have a much deeper connection with you that isnt dependant on who instigates the conversations.

My friends are those that mostly text in memes and reels since we dont see each other often. And i do the same in return. Its easier and relays so much more. We have proper conversations here and there, but our actual interactions happen physically. And they instigate meetups much more than i do and i always make sure that they know that i appreciate it. One of my friends and i also have some differences in opinions, so we have some long discussions.

I also have a friend who i dont text to at all but invites me to shabbat meals once in a while and i come over and its like no time had passed. I invite her back for bbq or shabbat as well, but thats also once in a blue moon.

Another friend is across the ocean so its mostly photos and small comments and talks about our lives and since the war began, she keeps checking if im alive and well.

Another friend is also across the ocean and we mostly speak about our realities of being jews or squeal over her precious daughter or make plans for when she finally comes to Israel.

So my friends arent part of one group but many branches of different aspects of my life. I would say i have around seven/eight of them that arent my current co workers (work friendship is also temporary and i accept that fully and enjoy our time together) and im truly blessed because i had let go of the desperate need to keep my friends together.

So please dont call us a bitch for not willing to talk about it. And we're certainly not mini community leaders, we're just people who are friends with those that never cared about reaching out first or affirming our friendship in any kind of way. Its not fair to put the expectations of reaching out onto the one who constantly did that. Friends who truly want to keep up a friendship will attempt to do so when they see that the other side isnt as present as previously.

Sorry im all over the place, im on my phone and its harder to articulate on it

every now and then the internet decides it should revamp the ole “stop texting first and see how many friends you lose” when in reality you could literally just communicate that u feel bad that ur the only one texting first

[hsnlv]

sweet strokes | y.jw

pairing: husband!jungwon x wife!reader

synopsis: when you beg jungwon to let you do his makeup, he reluctantly agrees, unable to resist your charms. what starts as playful teasing turns into a heartwarming moment of love, laughter, and stolen glances—proving he’ll do anything to see you smile.

wc: 1.1k

warning: bunch of nicknames, fluff (if that needed a warning idk lmao)

“uwon, please,” you beg, almost on your knees now, clasping your hands together dramatically.

for the past ten minutes, you’ve been trying to convince your husband to let you put makeup on him. you just know he’d look so good with it, and you’re determined to prove it. but jungwon? he’s as stubborn as ever.

“honey, no,” he says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest and letting out a long sigh. his brows furrow, and his lips press into a tight line. it’s such a rare sight—jungwon refusing you. he almost never says no to you, and honestly, you’re not used to it.

“pretty, please?” you whine, pouting up at him with your most convincing expression. “i promise i’ll make you look good. uwon, please.”

he groans, leaning his head back against the couch. “why do you even want to do this?”

“because it’ll be fun!” you insist, crawling closer to him and resting your chin on his knee. “and you’ll look so pretty, uwon. please, just trust me on this.”

jungwon looks down at you, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “what if i look ridiculous?”

“you won’t,” you assure him quickly, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “i swear. just a little eyeliner, maybe some blush—nothing too crazy. you’ll look amazing, uwon. please?”

he lets out another groan, rubbing his face with his hands. “why do you do this to me?”

“because i love you,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes at him. “and because i know you love me too much to say no.”

jungwon sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “fine,” he mutters, barely loud enough for you to hear.

your face lights up instantly, and you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “you’re the best husband ever!” you exclaim, peppering kisses all over his cheeks.

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, though the corners of his lips are tugging upward into a reluctant smile. “just… don’t make me look like a clown, okay?”

“you won’t regret this,” you promise, already grabbing your makeup bag and sitting cross-legged in front of him.

“hold still, uwon,” you murmur, gently tilting his chin up so you can apply eyeliner. jungwon stares at you, his dark eyes watching your every move.

“this feels weird,” he mumbles, his lips curving into a small pout.

“you’ll survive,” you tease, carefully tracing a thin line along his eyelid. “and trust me, the results will be worth it.”

jungwon hums in response, his lashes fluttering when you ask him to close his eyes. he’s being surprisingly cooperative, though you suspect it’s mostly because he doesn’t want to upset you.

“done!” you announce after a few more finishing touches. “open your eyes, uwon. look at yourself.”

jungwon blinks a few times before turning to the mirror. his eyes widen slightly as he takes in his reflection. “is that… me?”

“yup,” you say proudly, resting your chin on his shoulder as you admire your handiwork. “you’re even prettier than i imagined.”

jungwon lets out a soft laugh, his cheeks flushing pink. “i look… kind of cool,” he admits, tilting his head to get a better look.

“you look amazing,” you correct, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind. “seriously, uwon. you could pull off anything.”

jungwon turns to face you, his expression softening. “you really went all out, huh?”

“only the best for you,” you reply, grinning. “now, how does it feel to be the prettiest man alive?”

he rolls his eyes playfully, but the faint smile on his lips gives him away. “if it makes you happy, angel, then i guess it’s worth it.”

“it does,” you say, your voice full of warmth. “you’re so handsome, uwon. our kids are gonna be absolutely gorgeous because of you.”

jungwon freezes, his eyes locking onto yours. “our kids, huh?”

“yeah,” you say shyly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “don’t you think?”

jungwon’s expression softens even more, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “they’ll be perfect,” he murmurs. “because they’ll have you as their mom.”

your cheeks burn at his words, and you hide your face in his chest, making him laugh. “stop being so sweet,” you mumble.

“i can’t help it,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. “you bring it out of me.”

the two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other. but then you suddenly pull back, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

“what now?” jungwon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“we’re taking a selfie,” you declare, grabbing your phone.

jungwon groans, already knowing where this is headed. “baby, no. you’re not posting this.”

“oh, come on,” you tease, holding up the phone and angling it just right. “it’s for the memories!”

“memories that don’t need to be on instagram,” he protests, though he still lets you snap the picture.

you examine the photo, your grin widening. “you look so good, uwon. i have to post this.”

“angel,” he says, his tone pleading. “don’t.”

you pout, holding the phone to your chest. “please?”

jungwon stares at you for a moment, his resolve weakening under your gaze. finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “fine. but no embarrassing captions.”

“deal!” you chirp, already typing away.

jungwon shakes his head, pulling you back into his arms. “you’re lucky i can’t say no to you.”

“i know,” you say, smiling up at him. “and i love you for it.”

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i love you too, angel. even when you make me do ridiculous things.”

“you mean fun things,” you correct, snuggling closer to him.

jungwon laughs, resting his chin on your head. “sure, let’s go with that.”

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for sashene behind the cut; “the puzzle trap sex-room”. tw: discussion of past dubcon/underage sex, past grooming, unhealthy coping mechanisms. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I said I’m leaving, dammit!” he snarls, and then he lifts off and takes off, and he doesn’t fucking care about the stupid fucking Batcave’s walls but he doesn’t wanna deal with Superman saying something disapproving about it later so he just bolts towards the tangled-up cave system. 

It’s just one more stupid puzzle to solve tonight. 

He doesn’t actually make it out of the cave, though, because Superman catches him by the arm and yanks him back, his grip harder than steel and completely inescapable. Superboy almost punches him for it. Almost. 

He really should. 

He doesn’t even know why Superman stopped him. Superman never stops him when he leaves, no matter what kind of mood he’s in. Superman’s usually the one to leave first anyway, so it’s only fair if Superboy gets to do it sometimes too. 

He can never stop him from leaving, so why wouldn’t Superman just pretend to return the stupid favor? 

“Let me go!” he yells at him, and Superman tightens his grip on his arm and looks–weird. Weird and unsettled and weird, and Superboy–Superboy just–

Tana didn’t do anything to him. Nothing he wasn’t up for, anyway. Knockout either. 

Even Robin didn’t, even with the stupid hair-yanking and lying about not having a condom and–and calling him–calling him a–

That’s what he is. He’s all the things Robin called him and a lot more besides. 

He didn’t have to lie about the stupid condoms, though. 

Superboy really, really hates that Robin lied about the condoms, and he doesn’t even know why. He just–Robin didn’t have to do that. He was doing what the guy wanted anyway. He didn’t have to fucking lie about anything. He could’ve just, like–said he didn’t wanna use ‘em, or–or something. He could’ve just . . . 

“Wait,” Superman says, and Superboy really does almost punch him. “Just–wait. Please. Just . . .” 

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Superboy says tightly, gritting his teeth. “I solved the Riddler’s stupid puzzle and I kept Robin from getting blown up and I didn’t even break anything this time, so–so fuck off, I don’t wanna hear a lecture, and I definitely don’t wanna hear anything you think about Tana.” 

Tana’s nice to him. 

People aren’t, mostly. But Tana–she’s nice to him. She spends time with him and she talks to him about stuff besides just work or his image or Superman and she makes sure he has a good time even when it’s something that feels a little weird or he gets freaked out for no reason, and like, yeah, she dumped him again, but she’ll change her mind again soon anyway like always, and then he’ll just have to try a little harder or whatever, and just–just be a little more of what she wants, until he finally is what she wants. Like–they’re getting there. He just has to “mature” a little more or whatever, and sleep around a little less, and just–just be– 

He just has to be a little more of what she wants. He can do that, for her.

[ghostgirl-22]

omg! omg! omg! do you have ideas on older jealous art? like what if he saw patrick on the date with helen at the hotel instead? or maybe saw patrick on a date with another man (grosu? 👀) and got really upset but didn’t understand why!

Oh yes, oh yes….<3

I think Art goes in the sauna, yes that sauna. But it’s before they ever meet up the night before they play the final.

CW: NSFWish, 18+

Summary: in which Art has a Karen moment because how dare you try and take his man—that he really doesn’t want (he promises). And no he doesn’t know what he’s weirdly sexually confused about. But it’s not that.

-/-/-/-

Art’s winning again. He’s mostly playing kids who are just so happy to be there or sad older guys who are so jaded and defeated about the idea of playing him that they’ve beaten themselves before Art even has to do anything. But still he is winning and it does feel good.

He’s trying to put the idea of Patrick out of his mind. Tashi tells him every single day, “He’s never going to make it to the final. He’s gonna choke. That’s his thing.” But Art notices every round he wins Patrick wins too.

His body is sore and he always feels better in the heat but being who he is in the tennis world he usually waits till really late at night to relax in the sauna. He’s sure no one else is going to be there so he’ll get a moment of peace and quiet without any of the younger players gawking over him or asking him career questions. But as soon as he pushes open the door he realizes he’s not alone at all. Patrick’s sitting on the bench and he’s not alone. He’s got some guy kneeling between his legs. The guy quickly gets to his feet when he hears the door and Art recognizes him vaguely from the draw. Victor Grasi or Grossi. Something.

The guy wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and Patrick—very slowly— pulls the towel over himself, offering Art a smirk.

Art can feel his skin heating up. He wants to turn and run but he can’t move. His stomach is suddenly swooping around like he’s riding a rollercoaster. He didn’t know Patrick did stuff like that… with boys.

“What’s up Donaldson?” Patrick says brightly, like Art didn’t just catch him with some stupid pretty boy between his legs. “I’ve been meaning to come see you.”

Art glares at him still struggling to form words. He hasn’t seen Patrick this close in so many, many years. He still smiles with his eyes but they crinkle now with age and around the edges of that smile he looks like he might be tired(sad?). And not just from lack of sleep. His hair’s shorter, skin darker the way it always was in the summertime. It makes all his freckles that much more visible. Art hates to admit the facial hair looks kinda good on him.

His body looks good too… Art’s eyes drift downward over where the towel is covering his very hard dick.

”I am so sorry Mr. Donaldson I’m a big fan. I think you are so talented. Not many Americans can win on clay,” Whatever his name is saying with a thick accent Art can’t place. It pulls Art out of whatever daze he was in. God was he just staring? Why was he fucking staring? He looks at Patrick’s face again and he’s looking at Art, amused. Smug.

Art’s annoyed all over again.

“And your game against Padilla.” The kid is still talking. “That was so good. I rewatched it twice. You’re so—“

“Thanks,” Art interrupts, his tone clipped. He’s not sure why he’s suddenly irritated with his presence. This dumb kid, probably 24 or 25, pink cheeks, perfect body just on his knees for…

“Didn’t he beat you yesterday?” Art asks, meanly, with a smirk.

His pretty little face goes stormy and Art feels a cruel internal joy when he sees it.

He mutters something in another language but Art’s certain it’s a swear word.

“I just—it was a bad day. I’m ranked much higher than him.” The kid tries to recover but he’s clearly embarrassed.

“Sure, exactly. It was just a bad day, Grosu,” Patrick chimes in, smiling as he rubs himself idly. “Lemme make you feel better.”

“You’re no good for me, Zweig.” The kid mutters.

“That’s not what you said last night,” Patrick smirks up at him.

Art’s jaw sets with irritation. Especially when Patrick’s grabbing at the kid’s waist and pulling him closer. Art’s not trying to look but for whatever reason his eyes trail back down. Probably because Patrick is just so insistently hard. And he’s touching it, just casually touching it.

The weirdest part is the way Art can feel his own balls tightening. It makes no fucking sense. He can’t possibly be getting hard. He’s one fucking step away from talking to his doctor about Viagra because he can’t get it up for someone as fucking beautiful as his wife and right now on a random night in the middle of the sauna is when he’s just ready to go. Brilliant. It’s like the universe just enjoys finding new ways to fuck with him.

The kid has forgotten about him, mesmerized by Patrick. Letting Patrick just touch him, all over. Art feels like his blood is boiling hotter than the room. He hurries outside without another word before the way his cock is swelling becomes visible to them. Not that they fucking care.

He’s barely made it into the locker room toilet stall when he’s leaning against the door jerking himself stupid. The whole thing is so fucked because in his head he’s imagining Patrick’s hands all over him. Touching him. Fucking him. Not that stupid pretty boy loser. Fucking loser. Fucking loser. Fucking loser. His mind chants over and over, not sure if it’s about the kid or Patrick or himself. All the while his hand is racing over his dick, so desperate until he’s coming hard, spraying his load all over his hand and the toilet seat. “Oh fuck,” he gasps.

Because what the fuck is he doing? He’s too old for this shit. Mind games and lust and weird teenaged flirting. He needs to go home to his wife and kid. He’s a grown up. He has responsibilities. Patrick’s still a fucking child. Just doing whatever he wants. Just fucking whoever he wants. Like Tashi. It’s been years and it still stings. And now some stupid fucking boy sucking his dick when anyone could just walk in. It’s offensive. Art should probably complain. Tell that loser kids coach or whoever he’s working with that he needs to focus and maybe not fuck around with someone like Patrick Zweig. He cleans up quickly and hurries to go wash his hands.

He spots movement behind him in the mirror and turns to see Patrick walking from the lockers towards the shower. Naked. With only a towel on his head. God how long was he in here? Did he hear Art?

Patrick stops to smirk at him. He’s not hard anymore which means he probably fucked the kid. It’s still so fucking big even when he’s soft. Art swallows. “What do you want?” He manages.

“Nothing. You just look pretty flushed. Are you okay?” He says, grinning (like he knows what Art did). “I thought you went home.” He wraps the extra towel he’s got draped over his shoulder around his waist, covering himself and Art relaxes a bit.

“I am going home,” Art says. “Where’s the dumb kid?”

Patrick laughs, “You know he’s 27, right.”

“Well he’s still a loser,” Art shrugs. He doesn’t care. He hopes he never sees him again. (And that Patrick doesn’t either).

“God, must feel good to walk around with all that power. He got so in his head from your little comment. He wanted to go home. Didn’t even want to finish. It’s like he didn’t even remember how much fun we had last night after drinks.”

Art’s not sure how to take any of that. On one hand he’s mildly satisfied that he sent the kid into a tailspin, but still fucking irritated that he… that he what… that he got to fuck Patrick in the first place? This is so fucked. He can’t want this. He cannot want this.

“Well you’re not dressed yet.” Patrick continues, casually. “You sure you don’t want to join me and clean up in the shower?”

“I uh— uh—“ Art stammers, while he white knuckles the towel on his waist, his heart rate picking up and the distant feeling of arousal that he’d just conquered incredibly stirring again. He wants this. Fuck he wants this. “No I—“

“I’m just teasing,” Patrick shrugs, interrupting before Art can finish. An oddly melancholic expression flitting over his face. And then immediately back to being his usual carefree (careless?) self. If not a little more distant. Formal. “Good night, Donaldson, see you in the final.”

“Good night,” Art says, feeling his stomach sink just a little bit. He wishes he didn’t— but he believes it now with 100 percent certainty that Patrick is right— that they’re both going to end up there.

(Sorry anon that this took so long and also I apologize if this is what you were looking for. It’s been hectic so I didn’t have much time to get to into it— also wanted to leave a little space for canon to canon lol. Art is still so mad that he’s attracted to Patrick he needs to hurt him more 😭)

[bestanimal]

Round 2.5 - Cnidaria - Hexacorallia

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

The anthozoan class Hexacorallia contains five extant (living) orders: Actiniaria (“sea anemones”), Antipatharia (“black corals” or “thorn corals”), Corallimorpharia (“false corals”), Scleractinia (“stony corals” or “hard corals”), and Zoantharia (“zoanthids”). This class contains many of the most important reef builders: the stony corals, sea anemones, and zoanthids.

Like all anthozoans, these organisms are formed of individual soft polyps which in some species live in colonies and can secrete a calcite skeleton. Some species live as solitary polyps. Hexacorals are distinguished from Octocorals by having six or fewer axes of symmetry in their body structure, and tentacles which are simple and unbranched and normally number more than eight. Reef-building or hermatypic corals are mostly colonial, building a communal skeleton around their colony. Corallimorphs are similar to the stony corals, except for the stony skeleton, and have a tendency to overgrow reefs in a carpet formation. Most sea anemones are solitary, single polyps attached to a hard surface by their base but some species float near the surface, or can deatach to escape predators.

Hexacorals are filter-feeding carnivores, using their tentacles armed with stinging cells, called cnidocytes, to catch and neutralize plankton and draw it into their mouth. Larger polyps are able to take correspondingly larger prey, including various invertebrates and even fish. Many species have separate sexes, the whole colony being either male or female, but others are hermaphroditic, with individual polyps having both male and female gonads. Most species release gametes into the sea where fertilisation takes place, and the planula larvae drift as plankton, but a few species brood their eggs. Once the larvae settle in an area, they will metamorphize into a polyp. In colonial species, this initial polyp will repeatedly divide to give rise to an entire colony. Hexacorals can also reproduce by fragmentation, where part of a colony becomes detached and reattaches elsewhere, cloning polyps to grow the colony in the new area.

Hexacorals have existed since the Fortunian. Mackenzia, from the Middle Cambrian Burgess Shale of Canada, is the oldest fossil identified as a sea anemone. Nonetheless, many hexacorals have been declining in numbers and are expected to continue declining due to poaching, ocean acidification and climate change.

Propaganda under the cut:

Hexacorals provide housing, shelter, food, and protection for so many other animals. They are The Givers of the Animal Kingdom.

The largest coral ever recorded, a Pavona clavus colony dubbed the “mega coral” lives off the Solomon Islands. It is 34m (112 ft )wide, 32m (105 ft) long and 4.9m (16 ft) high, larger than a Blue Whale, composed of nearly one billion polyps, and more than 300 years old!

Coral is loud. It can hear and it communicates with each other via sound. We’re only beginning to discover this information and understand the implications of it, and more research needs to be done, but the amount of noise-making humans do in the ocean tends to disrupt the communication corals have with each other and other reef life.

Black Corals have historically been used by Pacific Islanders for medical treatment and in rituals, and are used in modern day for making jewelry.

Sea anemones and zoanthids are popular in the aquarium trade, however, their popularity threatens some populations as the trade depends on collection from the wild.

In southwestern Spain and Sardinia, the Snakelocks Anemone (Anemonia viridis) is consumed as a delicacy. The whole animal is marinated in vinegar, then coated in a batter similar to that used to make calamari, and deep-fried in olive oil.

Most sea anemones are harmless to humans, but a few highly toxic species (notably Actinodendron arboreum, Phyllodiscus semoni and Stichodactyla spp.) have caused severe injuries and are potentially lethal.

Clownfish and Anemonefish (Subfamily Amphiprioninae) are most famous for having a mutualistic relationship with sea anemones, receiving protection from predators by hiding in the anemone's stinging tentacles, and providing the anemone nutrients in the form of faeces. Some other animals have been recorded utilizing sea anemones in a similar way, including cardinalfish, juvenile threespot dascyllus, incognito (or anemone) gobies, juvenile painted greenlings, various crabs (such as Inachus phalangium, Mithraculus cinctimanus and Neopetrolisthes), shrimp (such as certain Alpheus, Lebbeus, Periclimenes and Thor), opossum shrimp (such as Heteromysis and Leptomysis), and various marine snails. One of the more unusual relationships are those between certain anemones (such as Adamsia, Calliactis and Neoaiptasia) and hermit crabs or snails, where the anemones live on the shell of the hermit crab or snail, providing protection from predators while being provided with transportation. Another unusual relationship is between Bundeopsis or Triactis anemones and Lybia boxing crabs, where the small anemones are actually carried around in the claws of the boxing crab as little weapons.

Look at this anemone eating an entire Mola:

(source)

[quinnkdev]

i wrote a short thing about OFF, and my relationship to it as its translator; thoughts ive wanted to put into words for a while.

you can read it here as well, under the cut.

wait! wait... there is more to be said about OFF than, at the time of my previous review, i had the bandwidth for. i had, temporarily, reached a point of saturation with it - you only regurgitate a game's text again and again so many times until you start getting a bit weary of it, after all - but now that the bomb has burst and the remake is public knowledge (i kept that stuff secret for 2+ years!), i have the peace of mind to really unpack this. OFF was my companion for the late end of my teen years and more or less the whole of my current adulthood. the better - maybe even the best parts of my life - were (at least in part) shaped by adoration for and dedication to this game and its story. OFF survived the beginning and end of several friendships and relationships (romantic or otherwise) throughout my life, and i project it will survive many more - if not me, as a living human being. and i hope you understand that this is a lot to put into writing. can you imagine? something you did at 16 years old, because you were bored and liked a video game; a text someone else made, passed through you like a pamphlet - outgrowing you like that, becoming larger than you may ever be? i wrestle with that feeling frequently. some would grow resentful of the object of this kind of ruminating, especially as a writer and gamedev themselves- but i can't find it in me to ever hate OFF, no matter how often i hear about it; there simply is nothing like it. OFF has created several core memories that i can flash back to. i remember the knot in my stomach at its ending. i remember that it was time to sleep, and i remember staring at the ceiling, closing my eyes, and seeing void behind them, with white bedsheet ghosts floating there. i remember the resolve to translate it. i remember: "i have to show this to decon" (a friend that i've long since stopped speaking to). i remember isaiah (friend i lost touch with, number 2) asking me to keep working on the translation because he loved the game and wanted to know what happens in zone 2. i remember a vacation in france i mostly spent on a shoddy laptop my grandmother owned, on slow (maybe dial-up) internet, tinkering in RPG maker 2003, trying to make more headway in a language i only barely knew better than the one i was translating from. i remember this more than the majority of the relationship that introduced me to the game. that's sad to consider, isn't it? can a story be more significant than a person? i was very unwell for large parts of the time i spent working on this translation. i had dark thoughts; i feared impossible and possible things both. i was depressed, and i made very real attempts to turn the world in the only window i know - my eyes - off. permanently. and maybe- that is why OFF is larger than me. because in the negative space of its conclusion, in the turning of the final switch from ON to OFF, there lies a question: "is all this despair, all this hurt, all this misery and all of this unsolvable injustice of this world worth it?" and OFF, in my opinion, says: yes. or at least, for me it did. i'm not letting go of these memories, or of these stories, or of my adoration for this game. i love it more by the day. i owe a lot to it. this isn't a funeral, it's a celebration. thank you, OFF, and thank you, mortis ghost. i would not be here, i would not be this, and i would not be me without you.

[numberonetacostan]

thinking about how taco and the rest of the s1 contestants would react to finding out she was practically made to win. like mephone visits the hotel post-finale talking about how he thinks they deserve to know what he planned for them to be like, and literally everyone ends up staring at taco when they hear about it. she probably wouldn’t even believe it at first. and then to think that she must have done something to ruin it for herself??

i also personally like to think that taco may have been one of the first ii contestants to break away from her programming and become her own person, even if she didn’t realize that’s what she was doing

Hello there :D!!!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in your hc!!!!! :] XD

HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE THE MOST RIGHT EVER. FINALLY A REASON TO TALK MORE ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!! THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH ANON!!!! (also sorry because I have been thinking about this a lot a lot a lot so i might deviate a bit more from your ask than i usually do). SHE. WAS. BUILT. TO. WIN. BUT SHE DIDN'T.

A little tangent before I go into Taco finding out, I think the reason she lost despite having been supposed to win is actually because of Bow. Now, I've mentioned before how Bow is literally the reason that Taco lost- Taco getting attacked by her is how OJ was able to catch up and beat her in the final footrace. But on a more meta level, Bow disrupted the original plan for the season. She wasn't part of the original cast. Mephone was forced by A.D.A.M. to let her in the show after she appeared halfway through the season!! Her inclusion was not in Mephone's plan. Her showing up threw things out of whack, culminating in her influence causing the intended winner of the season to lose.

Taco having been the planned winner actually makes season 2's existence make more sense, too. OJ won and built everyone a big shiny hotel to live in, they had a happy ending and everything they could want! Had Taco won, though, she (most likely, I have thoughts on this but I won't go on a tangent for the tangent) would have left with the money!!! The rest of the cast would have been left with squat, and without even a winner to celebrate since Taco ditches them. Perfect reason to start another season, right there in the same spot as season 1 took place!!! Give someone else the chance to win after the last winner got her prize and dipped. I can see her taking on her "iconoclast" role even better here, too. She won, but she isn't happy. She accomplished her goal, has everything she wants, but she's alone. So she goes back and works behind the scenes to try and put a stop to the game that pushed her to such extremes. She sees how it impacts and hurts everyone involved, and wants to put a stop to it. She allies with Mic more altruistically, to try and help someone being hurt by the game as she works to put a stop to it!! Truth or Flare can still happen relatively normally, even, with Taco desperately trying to convince the contestants to quit before they end up like her! Having won the money, but really ended up with nothing. Her redemption arc comes as her trying to fix her wrongdoings by preventing others from making the same mistakes she did. She can apologize to Pickle, explain herself, and they can be friends again!

But that's not how it happened. The other "meaner" characters get their redemptions as planned. Knife in season 2, Nickel in season 3, even Silver apologizes and gets to continue to have a relationship with Candle after he punches her flame out, even if it's a but strained for some time. But Taco? Her programming couldn't properly execute. She was built to win, but she didn't. So Mephone no longer had a planned redemption for her, or any plans for her, really. In Truth or Flare, in which Mephone had his memories back, he is surprised to see Taco show up. He did not realize she was still around. Still running mostly on her old programming despite her hating herself for it, and trying to break out of it, because the previous conditions to begin her redemption arc were never met. She had to get to "winning the game, but losing what really mattered" in a different way, that way being winning immunity for Mic in episode 14, but losing her most important connection because of it. Once that happens, she can finally really begin to change and be better, because the condition has finally been met, even if it wasn't quite how it was intended to be.

OH RIGHT YOUR ASK IS ABOUT HOW TACO AND THE OTHER S1 CONTESTANTS REACT TO FINDING OUT. UH. OOPSIES. I AM SO SORRY. GETTING TO IT NOW.

I honestly hadn't though about Mephone telling them outright!!! It would be some good growth for him to be the one to decide to tell them something important like this, that they have the right to know. He'd probably have to leave again soon after though. I can't imagine Taco taking it any sort of well. You're right that she wouldn't believe it first, she wouldn't want to believe it at first. That all this? Everything? The years of suffering? Because she was defective? Couldn't win, even though she was made to? Was it all for nothing? Even if she had won, she still would have been alone? Pickle could have forgiven her, if only she'd been able to fulfill her purpose? Augh, that's all so scrambled, but that's how she'd be thinking, you know? She would be so overwhelmed, shocked, in despair, mourning, heartbroken, all at the same time wrapped up into one little Taco. She'd just be quiet and just staring at Mephone and in the littlest voice she's ever spoken in says she needs to be alone. Goes to leave, Mephone steps towards her and asks her to wait, because he does feel bad and wants to apologize, but Taco is so not ready for that. She's been trying to heal and be better after the events of the finale- but every single wound has been violently ripped open with new ones torn into her, and she just can't do it. She would give that sort of raw scream you can only give when you have so many feelings that they need to get out through your mouth and make it clear that she needs to be alone, now.

And then I think she would sob her little heart out. The messiest, most brutal breakdown you've ever seen. Panic attacks, scratching, shouting, sobbing, breaking things, you name it. They'd leave her be for a bit, but Mic would get worried hearing all the crashing, and go to check on her. Taco has destroyed whatever space she is in and is still sobbing and scratching and breaking down, and Mic gives her a hug. And Taco sobs more, but she's being held and she can squeeze Mic and cry into her shoulder. It's a bad day for everyone, all around. OJ is having a bad time too, but is taking it a lot better than Taco, and also this ain't about him. She has a lot of healing to be done from here, truly.

I'm going to stop here, because i think this answers your ask and i have been procrastinating on an assignment that i really do need to get done now, but I can talk more about this if anyone has questions or just wants to hear more!!!^^ please ask for more this is so so so much i love it so very much please i want to talk about it more please ask questions anything please please

[callahanisms]

apt.

unfortunately i don't really drink so i don't know any drinking games. so this fic is based on the song's ✨vibes✨

not beta read. first draft is my final draft mentality. uhhh based on promos and nothing else so if this becomes outdated next week i'm so sorry

pairing: ash x gender neutral! reader

word count: 2.1k words

accompanying bot: 🍻

You weren’t a heavy drinker. Not like you could be one anyways, considering you were deemed the designated sober friend for tonight. Not that you minded. You were more than cautious about drinking at a frat house. It was Essex’s only Asian frat and you had been invited by your friend Myung-Jun, or “MJ” as some of your friends call her. In all honesty, Essex had little diversity—an unshocking reality for 2021’s “Most Liberal College in America” which explains why Greek life was still mostly led by the historically white fraternities. The doors to the party were open to everyone because everyone at Essex liked to party.

Except your friends, for some reason.

You wanted to go with other people you know, outside of darling Myung-Jun. She was sweet and super into this guy at the frat and you didn’t want to end up third wheeling. But all your friends had other plans.

“There’s an event tonight at the antiracist research center. And as the events coordinator, I have to go. I organized it. I’ve been working on this for months!” is the excuse your friend Apinya gave you.

“I have homework.” was the excuse you got from three of your other friends.

“I have to stay at the lab to work on this report.” was Whitney’s reasoning.

“There’s an event at the KJ house tonight. Sorry.” Multiple of your friends were going to the KJ House tonight.

So essentially, it was just you and Myung-Jun and her friends, most of which you just met. And first meetings were always a little awkward, even at parties. You’re only nursing some Sprite in the red solo cup when Myung-Jun walks over, giggling. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” She says, her arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy dark hair, high cheekbones, and pouty lips wearing a denim jacket. “Oh my god! Are you having fun?”

“Yeah. I’m doing great.”

“You looked so lonely over here, so I thought I’d bring someone to keep you company!” She pats the girl’s shoulders. “(Y/N), this is Ash. She’s Talia’s friend.”

“Talia? Like…Talia Tran the philosophy major who already has an idea for what her capstone is going to be? That Talia Tran?” You ask.

“I mean…that’s one way to put it.” Your heart nearly stops hearing her voice. You can’t describe it exactly without letting someone else hear it. But her voice is warm, smooth and there’s a slight hint of a rasp. She clears her throat. Her cheeks are pink. “But yeah. Talia Tran. She’s cool.”

“You should’ve seen her! We taught her how to play APT. She can really hold her liquor!”

Ash shrugs. “I barely feel anything.”

“(Y/N) on the other hand, is a lightweight.”

“I-I’m not!” You feel your own face heat up with embarrassment. But it was true. A lightweight and depending on the day, you either got sleepy or really giggly. The first option didn’t exactly make drinking outside of your home or a friend’s place safe.

Myung-Jun looks between you two, smirking. “Ash is also single.”

Ash looks over at the slightly shorter girl. “Okay. Outing me as single already.”

Myung-Jun only giggles before walking away, leaving you alone with the attractive girl. She looks nice beneath the blue and purple lights of the fraternity house basement. “She does this a lot. When she’s drunk, she tries to matchmake. Unfortunately it actually seems to work.” You explain. It hasn’t worked so far, mostly because you didn’t want another situationship. Your last one ended pretty badly and left you laying in bed for the remainder of the year. It being winter probably didn’t help.

“How long have you two known each other?” Ash says, raising the volume of her voice so you can hear her over the loud music and people singing and dancing to it.

“Ring Ding Dong.”

Definitely fits the vibes.

Ash glances back, slowly moving towards you. The denim jacket is grazing your knuckles. She looks at you curiously with her eyes. “Since high school. She also ended up moving from the city to the suburbs like me. So we became friends in a school where everyone’s known each other since they were in diapers.” You also raise the volume of your voice as you talk to her.

“And you both went to Essex together? That’s cute.” Ash leans towards you, glancing down at your cup. “What’s your poison?”

“I prefer weed. A good edible. Not much of a drinker.” You take a sip. “It’s Sprite.”

“Honestly smart. I think I took too many shots of soju. I started hating the taste of yogurt.”

“That’s like the worst flavor!” You can’t stop the small laugh that leaves you and your lips from curling into a smile.

“It’s not. It’s very underrated. But honestly, I had enough for tonight.” She takes your cup and presses it to her lips.

If it was a man who did that, you would hate them immediately. But here was Ash, taking your cup and taking a sip of your Sprite. It was weirdly attractive, in a drunken sort of way. Of course, she might be a little tipsy, which would explain the lack of inhibition. Sober people usually don’t take other people’s drinks. “How do you know I didn’t mix it with anything?”

Ash looks at you up and down. “MJ told me you’re the designated sober friend for today.”

“That I am. But some people don’t like being sober friends.” You take the cup from her hand. You can’t help but admire how…relaxed she is. You’d probably be a bit of a mess if you weren’t sober. Some of these parties could be overwhelming. “Some sober friends end up more wasted than the people that brought them out.”

“Okay well…you’re not wrong. That’s happened on more than one occasion.” You finish up the Sprite and set the cup down on a flat surface. It wasn’t your house. They’d clean it up anyways.

“It smells too sweet down here.”

“That’s from all the people vaping inside.”

“Do you want to get some fresh air?”

Your heartbeat picks up a little bit. “Yeah. Sure.” You swallow your saliva, letting Ash take your hand and guide you through the dancing people, up the stairs, and out of the frat house.

Her hand was soft and the silver rings on her fingers were cool to the touch. You want to look at them more closely, feel the intricate designs and study them, ask her about how she got them, how long she’s been collecting jewelry. She was a silver girl it seems.

The air outside tastes better. It’s more crisp and you’re able to breathe without issue and needing to deeply inhale for some semblance of oxygen. But the air bites back against you through your thin clothes. Goosebumps form on your skin and you involuntarily shiver. It was supposed to be warm today. But you could never trust the weather app, could you?

“Now we can talk without yelling at each other.” She says, leaning against the wall of the house besides you.

“And breathe. Finally.” Your hand slides into the pocket of your pants and you could feel the joint inside of its tube. Pre-rolled of course. You didn’t have time to roll while working on your midterm papers. And you’re tempted to light it.

“So what are you studying?”

“Is that the question we’re starting off with?” You turn your head to look at her.

“It’s college. We all start with that question. What’s your name, what are your pronouns, where are you from, what are you majoring in.” Ash puts her hand out.

You roll your eyes. But you tell her anyway. Your name, your pronouns, where you’re from, what you’re majoring in at Essex. She doesn’t interrupt you, she just watches you with curious eyes. You fail to notice how her eyes glance down at your lips while you’re talking, too busy looking at other things because eye contact was uncomfortable. You soon end up going on a small tangent. About what, you don’t exactly remember because you mostly remember the biting chill of the wind.

“Sounds rough. I’m sorry your situationship was an asshole.”

You have to stop talking, looking at her. She’s looking at you with those big eyes of hers. Beneath the porch light, they look dark blue. Had you been talking about your situationship? “Yeah…I just…wish they were better.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Your hands rub your upper arms, trying to get some friction going to warm yourself up.

Ash slowly slides her jacket off. “Here. Take it.”

“What? But aren’t you…” You look at what she’s wearing beneath the jacket. A baggy Depeche Mode shirt and a black compression shirt beneath. “Wouldn’t you also be cold?”

“I’m used to it.” She shrugs. “Come on. Take the jacket. Don’t be stubborn.”

The jacket does look cozy. So you take it, your fingers brushing against her own, and you place the jacket on your shoulders. “It’s a shame. If I was your situationship, I wouldn’t leave you for another average white guy.” She takes a step closer and you can feel her body heat.

“Really?” You raise your eyebrows. “I don’t know. People love average white guys. That’s the whole point of the white boy of the month trend!”

Ash clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “People are…shortsighted, I guess we’ll say.” Her hand cups your face. You blink. Shivers run down your spine. “They don’t realize they have someone awesome in front of them.”

“And…are you…” You lean closer. “Are you saying…you’re not shortsighted?”

“I’m just saying…I appreciate people as they are.”

Your brain can’t process the sudden physical sensation of warmth against your lips. Ash’s lips on yours, her hand holding your face in place so she can set a sensual rhythm. Your stomach churns, your heart feels like it’s going to burst from your rib cage. When you breathe in, you can smell the scent of bergamot and sweet oranges lingering on her clothes. It’s a little overwhelming actually.

The kiss itself is overwhelming.

You pull away, breathing heavy, face hot. You might collapse. Ash looks at you, your lips parted, and there’s a flash of disappointment in her face. “Shit. I’m sorry.” She says immediately, pulling back. You already miss her body heat. “I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No!” You grab her other wrist and pull her back towards you. “I…Sorry. I just…I haven’t kissed someone in a while.” You swallow. “A-And…” Ash looks at you expectantly, but there’s a sad expectation reflecting in her eyes. It’s as if she’s expecting you to reject her.

Who would reject her?

“You’re the first person in a while. And I…I liked it.”

Those sad expectations leave her eyes, replaced with a sparkle that mixed hope and suggestion. “So…do you want ano—”

You kiss her again before she can finish her question. You add more pressure to the kiss and some more passion. Ash melts beneath your touch, pulling you closer with one hand resting on the side of your neck and the other resting at your hip. She enjoys that you taste of Sprite. Her teeth gently bite down on your bottom lip and pull, causing you to gasp. Your back stiffens from the shiver that runs up along it, your hands beginning to slide along Ash’s sides. Your other hand goes to the back of her neck, gently wrapping some of her hair around your finger.

Ash finally pulls away, her breathing heavy, her chest moving up and down. “Do you…want to get out of here?” She asks.

“I…” You think back to your friends. “I shouldn’t—”

“You absolutely should!”

Both you and Ash nearly jump. You both look, seeing Myung-Jun taking a hit from her vape and blowing. “MJ! H-How long have you been out here!” Your voice cracks as you speak, only furthering the embarrassment of getting caught making out with a girl you just met.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt.” The Korean girl giggles. “Go have fun (Y/N). Just text me when you get back to our dorm. If you get back.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m…W-What about you? And being your sober friend?”

“(Y/N), I’m smarter than that. We have multiple sober friends. Besides, Kimberly and Bela are here. They can take care of me.”

You furrow your brows, thinking. “Since when…” You shake your head. “Okay. Fine. Text me updates okay?”

“Okay~” Myung-Jun winks at you, taking another hit from her vape and then sauntering back into the frat house.

You lean your head against the wall of the house, groaning a little bit. Ash can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Don’t look so embarrassed.” She says.

“I’m not embarrassed.” You look down at her.

“I think your face says differently.” Ash grabs your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. And you let her pull you off the wall and take you back to her dorm.

You ended up submitting your paper late. Thank god for having a chill professor.

[motelroomjesus]

whooo I finished ep 4 and 5 of The Heart Killers

I still don't like Kant, I'm warming up to Bison, still obsessed with FadelStyle, and I want Style carnally.

I'm also really interested in how they're using the music and soundtrack to emphasize the emotions of some scenes.

This post is about to be longer than my usual since it's covering two eps but anyway

Spoilers under the cut !

Me when I overanalyze my BL:

First and foremost, that pat down scene in ep 4 where Fadel maintained eye contact with Kant as he searched him... How do u put that there and expect ppl to not imagine things, Jojo..... 😫 Even the goofy music in the background couldn't dissuade me from thinking they should hate fuck ☝️ but anyway

It's very obvious that while Style isn't fully committed and his feelings for Fadel are just starting to bloom, he definitely wants that man. Atp where we are in ep 4 he's obviously lusting after that man (face economy, body tea). I mean he gave him, apparently, the best sex of his life in a grief meeting storage room. He let the man cut his little crop top off. The lust of it all is so real. But I think now, after the chase, after spending more time with him, especially after hearing how Fadel was asking where he was, he's pursuing Fadel with more sincere intentions and I think he truly wants to know Fadel more. And lord have mercy, that scene in the woods.

That scene in the abandoned warehouse in the woods, aside from the iconic "I don't like that I miss you", is when I first noticed the soundtrack specifically highlighting the emotions. Now, I know soundtracks are meant to do that but I think they're doing it in a really fun way IDK They put a lighthearted cute, and low-key hopeful, little tune over a heated make out and handjob. It felt like it reflected their emotions in that moment really well and how the audience is meant to see the scene. It's not just a hot and heavy make out session because yay official, it's an indicator of a turning page, especially for Fadel. It's a signal that he can get butterflies in his stomach too, even with his enormous walls and stoic mask (defense mechanism), and I'm sticking to that interpretation. I love u my emotionally and sexually repressed little hitman.

And then Kant came in and decided NOW is the perfect time to finally tell his friend that oh yeah ur new bf is a hitman. It's not even that part that actually annoyed me, it's the little quip when Style says gunman instead of hitman. Like I'll kill u with a gun Kant. 😭

I fear I may never truly warm up to him, he is so annoying to me. 😔

Okay so ep 5, I kind of warmed up to Bison. He's cute he's fun, he's totally ignoring his instincts about Kant even tho he knows better. He seems less than helpful in most scenarios though, but whatever

There were two scenes that caught my attention and they were obviously meant to:

1) Kant and Bison post coital cuddles

2) Style and Fadel's intimacy towards the end of the ep

I'm mostly talking about the music again and the intentional use (or absence) of it. During the KantBison scene, when Bison is being so gentle with his kisses and telling Kant tender words, the music reaches a subtle crescendo once Bison says he feels like his life is changing since he met Kant and the camera lands right in Kant's distressed face. It was a great way to signal that Kant is gonna face the music very soon. I found that fun and I had to rewind a couple times just to make sure I wasn't making it up in my head. Could just be a transition sound choice, but I'm reading into it.

The KantBison scene felt like a big contrast next to the FadelStyle scene to me. At this point I think they're both feeling more than they're letting on for each other. Fadel and Style's night is, mostly, quiet. There's no backtrack for the most part. Fadel is splayed out in the bed just watching Style take his shirt off, exposing himself more than Fadel, and caging Fadel in by crawling on top of him. Style is on top of him kissing him, doing what he wants to, and Fadel is letting him. Style is telling Fadel that he wants to be trusted, he wants more from Fadel and he's willing to wait for him to be ready. He means it. And I know there's the component of this all starting for some car and Style now being aware of the reality of the situation but I think that's the point. That's the point of doing this specific scene with the absence of a backtrack until Style starts getting actually frisky. When Style is saying all of this and kissing Fadel's scar, we only listen to his words, their breathing, and their kisses. It's bare bones, but that's the point. To bare it all.

Did I read into that too much? Maybe! but idgaaaaffff. I'm eating this shit up and having fun dissecting things that maybe don't need dissecting. :P

I think it's obvious I'm more invested in FadelStyle than KantBison.... zorry! They put me-targeted drugs in FadelStyle. It's not my fault. 🧍

[lightlycareless]

What are some things about having a baby/child that left Naoya feeling kinda perplexed or confused? Cuz children are so weird and interesting I’m so curious as to what things they do that just left him feeling like huhhhh????

God I feel like there's another ask that could compliment this but I haven't updated my masterlist in so long jesus—but I'll come back to this when I do hehe.

Anyways THANK YOU FOR FEEDING MY DOMESTIC NEEDS ONCE MORE, LET'S DIVE RIGHT INTO THE FAMILY FLUFF.

The first thing that comes to mind in this situation is when kids say creepy things involving imaginary friends and death itself.

But considering their involvement in the sorcery world, to hear them saying things like that don’t really spook you or Naoya that much, it’s normally taken like their first signs of having cursed energy and such. So if anything, you’re quite excited about the prospect of training them.

Yet as exciting as this was, there were moments where the two get creeped out eventually, mostly after hearing the supposed things the curses tell their kids, relaying them to their parents soon enough.

“I love you mama; I hope you wake up tomorrow!” Naomi giggles after giving her a soft peck on your cheek, a tight hug and resting back on her bed.

“What do you mean, dumpling?” you blink, debating whether to be confused by her suddenly… odd choice of words, contrary to her usual upbeat, cheerful demeanor. Or not. Maybe even take it lightheartedly too, kids are weird that way, right?

“Nothing!” She grins, before turning on her side and getting ready to fall asleep. “Just that one of my friends is going to visit you tonight!”

After a quick exorcism, you let the matter die down. It’s not something Naoya needs to know, more so since Naomi never brought it up again…

Until it was Naoya’s time to get his own dose of weirdness, through something that more than unsettled him, hurt him.

“Is it true that mama can be with someone better?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just curious, papa. Is it true?”

“…Who told you that?” Naoya frowns. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“One of my friends, the one that’s always in the garden!”

Naoya didn’t need to know more than that to understand this was the work of curses, and of course he needed to step in before that damned thing ruined his baby’s innocent mind with any more stupid ideas, which considering how curses worked, were the influence of some members of the clan’s own thoughts.

And once the situation was appropriately dealt with, Naomi’s jujutsu training finally began. The creepiness stopped altogether after that too, much to their relief… until Naori came along, and it was the same story all over again.

You and Naoya just wouldn’t be able to stop kids being weird—but such are the perks of being a parent.

Naohime isn't weird. She's just rude. So I guess you and Naoya appreciate she's different that way lol.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask; I loooooove writing about their everyday shenanigans here and there 🥺 keep them coming hehe.

Take care and hope to see you soon!!

[madschiavelique]

Is it well known that the reader loves tarot? Or is it hidden because no one wants to hear the “ tarot isn’t real!” argument. It would make sense that zaun has more spiritual aspects especially since theres the temple of janna in zaun. Then theres piltover that filled with financial bros. Viktor is gonna ruin he’s chances if he mocks it. HOLY SHIT WHAT IF TYLER LIKES TAROT

OMG THATS SUCH A GOOD QUESTION ACTUALLY

okay sO. i think that tarot readers are not that present in piltover or at least can be found rarely in certain small streets - chances are even that most of them are from zaun and moved to piltover for business.

i think this comes mostly from the fact that tarot is more present in zaun generally speaking. just taking the fact that the cards themselves are used in card games (like sevika in episode 5 season 1 with the foreshadowing of viktor's evolution) really feels like it's a practice that resides much more in zaun than it does in piltover, AND just like you perfectly mentioned, zaun has more spiritual links with jann

i think that since this is a practice mostly related to zaun, reader is being discreet. sky probably asked her once about it, because duh they live with each other obviously the question would have popped up one day or another, but she doesn't bring her deck out of her room nor does she mention it to anyone else than Selene (for additional guidance, or simply out of curiosity)

BRO OMFG if tyler knows tarot better than viktor... oof this could be really interesting (noting it down)

[antianakin]

I feel like fan reactions to Naboo and their elected monarch system and Padme's part in it is QUICKLY becoming as onerous as the way fans react to the Jedi and the Padawans.

"Naboo relies on children to run its government"

Does it though?

Two out of the four most canonical Naboo queens we've ever seen were fully adults as far as we can tell. Only Padme and Apailana are actually children, but Jamillia is very clearly adult and Neyutnee doesn't seem to be a child either. Padme makes a comment that obviously does tell us that she's not the first child queen nor the youngest queen ever elected, but this doesn't necessarily mean that Naboo REQUIRES its queens to be children or even that it PREDOMINANTLY elects child queens. As far as that quote tells us, Padme could literally be only the SECOND child queen ever elected. Just because she isn't the youngest ever doesn't mean there was any more than one other child queen elected before her and that one person happened to be elected younger than 14. That's just as accurate of a headcanon to make as the one that says that most queens are elected as children.

We also don't see children in any other positions of power during either TPM or TCW. The governor of Theed is clearly an older man, Palpatine is clearly an adult as the Senator (and Padme herself is an adult when SHE becomes the Senator), and there's nobody else that we ever see other than Padme and her handmaidens who is clearly a child in the scenes depicting Naboo's government. So it seems just a little unfair to claim that Naboo relies on children to run its government. EVEN IF we pretended that it only ever or mostly elected child queens, the vast majority of the people making political decisions appear to be adults still.

From a meta perspective, Naboo having child queens appears to be just another aspect of the message about the wisdom of children (note the clear foil between Padme and Palpatine as two politicians from the same planet, but she is the wise child and he is the corrupt adult). It comes up again in AOTC with Yoda asking the younglings to help Obi-Wan with his question about the missing planet and then saying that the mind of a child is wondrous. It's not some sort of hidden message about Naboo being a corrupt piece of shit hiding underneath natural beauty.

"Padme was raised to be a politician/child queen"

Was she though?

Her mother appears to be an educator and her father works in some sort of refugee organization, neither of them is a politician themselves nor are we ever told that they are, and in the deleted scenes from AOTC, we hear that they're actually not SUPER happy about Padme still being a politician because of how dangerous it is for her and would presumably prefer if she quit her job as a Senator and came back to Naboo to live a quieter life. This is an opinion they're so open about that Padme has to ask Anakin to lie about what he is and why he's traveling with her to try to keep her parents from getting anxious and when he chooses to reveal that information anyway, they instantly start talking about how much they don't like how dangerous Padme's job is. That doesn't sound like the kind of people who would've required or even encouraged Padme to go after a political job as a child. They clearly chose to SUPPORT her political interests early on, but that doesn't mean they RAISED HER with that expectation on her.

Padme appears to have chosen to become a politician and to campaign to be Queen all of her own free will and because she wanted to pursue that path for herself. Why do we need to take that agency away from her? Even if she says she believes she was too young for it and seems to regret the path she chose now that she's an adult, it doesn't mean it was FORCED upon her. The parallel between her and Anakin is RIGHT THERE, they both chose a career path that they believed was what they wanted, but the reality of it turned out to be something different than they thought and they both feel trapped within a cage of their own making. The whole point is that they can LEAVE this cage any time they want, that they made the choices that led them to where they are and they can MAKE DIFFERENT CHOICES if they want to, but some part of them clings to this path they're on rather than embrace the uncertainty of letting it go for something that could make them happier.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-two of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Please,” he manages again, and it’s so fucking hard to not just–to not just ride him exactly as “too much” and greedy as he’s trying not to, and so fucking hard not to think about Bernard’s mouth nipping at his chest and Bernard’s hands on his ass, making sure–making sure Tim can really see just how “inspired” Kon got him and just what they’re both doing about it, and–and–“Feels so good, feels so good, wanna come, wanna make you come, want you to do it inside, please do it inside, don’t pull out, fuck–” 

He hears Tim take a very careful, doors-blowing-in breath, and Bernard laughs raggedly and then buries a groan against his collarbone and grips his ass tighter. 

“Hey,” he says, just as ragged and sounding like he’s had the air knocked out of him, which makes Kon feel pretty good about how he’s doing, even though he’s not even really all that good at, like–riding somebody like this. “Gimme your hands, alright? Keep ‘em behind your back, just–” 

“M’kay, I–yeah, ‘kay,” he stammers, letting go of his wrist and dropping his hands down towards Bernard’s own, since he assumes that’s what the guy means and all, though he doesn’t know what he wants with– 

“Good boy,” Bernard says, letting go of his ass to catch his hands. He gives them both a squeeze, which Kon melts a little over and also feels stupidly horny about, and then he guides them down and puts them on his ass right where his own were and gives them another light little squeeze. “Make sure Tim gets a nice view, alright? Show him how much you like it.” 

“A-alright,” Kon manages, and actually fucking blushes over the fucking idea, which is fucking ridiculous, but–but he definitely does, yeah, even as he grips his cheeks just like Bernard did and lifts and spreads them up a little again and–and definitely blushes about it, fuck. “I–like–?” 

“Yeah, like that. Good boy,” Bernard says again, pressing a little kiss against his collarbone as he lets go of his hands to skim his own up his hips and sides and ribs. Kon shudders roughly, mostly in his thighs, and clutches up tighter around the other’s cock. It feels–good to. It feels really, really good to. 

Bernard maybe agrees, he thinks, given how the guy groans over it. 

“Fuck, seriously, so cute,” he says both breathlessly and feelingly, curling his fingers against Kon’s ribs for a moment and then pushing his hands up under and over his pecs and pushing them up a little too. Kon feels way too into how it feels to have someone just pushing his body around, even just in little ways like that. “Jesus, you ride dick like you want the whole thing first thing.” 

“I do want it,” Kon begs, which is maybe kind of stupid since he’s the one doing the work here and the one forcing himself not to be greedy, but–“Want it, want the whole thing, lemme have it, please lemme have it, m’tight, right? Your dick feels so good, does my ass feel good too? You like it? Like me? Really want you to, you’re so nice to me, I don’t get it, you’re so nice and you’re so fucking hot and I want you to like me.” 

“I like you,” Bernard says a lot more feelingly, and rolls his hips up to emphasize the point as he slides his hands up over Kon’s chest. It definitely, definitely does, and Kon’s gut burns and his cock throbs. “I like you a lot. And my dick really likes you. My dick is now actually seriously considering the ‘become a pink kryptonite-themed supervillain’ plan, in fact. I assume the other Supers might not be into that but I figure they’ll just let you handle me, all things considered.” 

“They would absolutely have to lock me up in the Fortress to keep me from being the one to do literally all of that ‘handling’,” Kon laughs breathlessly, feeling warm, warm, warm. Bernard’s just–he’s really funny, and he’s cute, and he maybe gives “instructions” more than “orders” but he gives them so easy, and Kon doesn’t get why he’s being so nice to him. 

He is absolutely the opposite of complaining about the “nice”, obviously, but it’s just–he doesn’t know. It’s not like he thought the guy wouldn’t be nice or anything, just–just he’s being nice to him. 

To–him. 

Kon doesn’t even really know what’s going on in his head about that right now, but . . . but there’s definitely something going on in his head about that right now. Just–something. 

“Hmmm, I might need to be a little sneaky, then, wouldn’t want ‘em doing that before I got you all collared-up and warmed-up,” Bernard says with a little grin, giving Kon’s pecs an appreciative little squeeze and then rubbing both his thumbs across both his nipples. Kon bites his lip and stutters–just stutters his hips a little, maybe. “Aw, that’s cute. Did you like that, boy? You got really tight for it.” 

“I like it,” Kon says, then bites his lip again and digs his teeth in a little harder this time, and maybe pushes his chest just a little more into Bernard’s hands. The jokey fantasy idea, yeah, but also–“I–just feels really–” 

It’s not even that the actual, like, physical part feels that good, though it definitely does, just–Bernard paid so much attention last time he was touching his chest, and he seems to, like, really like his chest, or at least keeps coming back to it, and that feels . . . 

That’s the thing that feels “really”, Kon guesses. And also the thing that makes him maybe wanna get a couple of those piercings after all, and get to wonder if Bernard is looking at his S-shield to see if they show, next time he sees the guy. Which is probably a stupid thought since it’s not like he’s even gonna find that idea hot once he’s done being gay, but also–also he just likes the idea of getting admired anyway, sue him, and also, like . . . 

Well. Bernard would still think it was hot, right? And Kon really doesn’t think he’d mind making himself a little bit better eye candy for the guy, after how fucking nice he’s been to him already. And like–maybe Bernard would think it was hot he’d gotten those piercings specifically because of him, too, and not just the eye candy part. 

And maybe Tim would like it, if Kon did something like that for his boyfriend. 

Alternately, maybe that’s weird and insane and way, way too much to actually seriously do. But–well–Tim already said he could ask once he wasn’t gay anymore, so like . . . Tim would tell him if it was too much, Kon figures. Right? Like–he’d tell hiim if it was okay to do or not. 

And if it was okay, maybe he could also tell him if Bernard would be more into gold or stainless steel. 

Or, like–if he thought there were maybe a couple other piercings he should get too.

[variouslengthsofwire]

I realize my answers to this make no sense.

I answered that I don’t celebrate Xmas, but I do gather with friends and have a feast, and even exchange gifts bc it’s the only day we all have off. It doesn’t feel like I’m celebrating Christmas™️ though. No tree or Xmas decorations, no carols, we wear sweatpants or whatever comfy pajamas (often with Chanukkah imagery bc those are the warmest my spouse and I have), etc. no Xmas colors or clothes. Idk, it’s just not celebrating Xmas to me. I also chose to work on Xmas eve (the actual night) this year.

I said I sometimes celebrate St. Patrick’s day bc I always wear green, this year I was on vacation and had a free green drink, and like 10 years ago I went to a party. My sister used to pinch me right when I got up in the morning when I was a kid bc my pajamas didn’t have green, so now I even wear pajamas with green the night before even though no one will pinch me. But it’s a rule that got instilled, this is the day you must wear green! The entire day!

I said I celebrate 4th of July, but I just go on my roof and watch the fireworks in my neighborhood. I wear earplugs, but I also put on a playlist of Souza songs for my mom who comes over, and I can hear them bc I have crazy good hearing. We can’t actually bbq, but I try to make (vegetarian) hot dogs or burgers on the stove and have other summer foods. I used to do more.

I often cannot tell you when it’s actually Easter. But if I do know, I’ll try to get clearance candy the next day.

Thanksgiving and Halloween I consider to be secular. My family has always done them both. New Years is also mostly going up on the roof, but I might have an alcoholic drink and I’ll deliberately stay up until midnight.

V-day, depends on time and energy. I got really into it one year with a now-ex. Made plans, tried to be all romantic, dressed cute, made heart-shaped food. But then the feelings didn’t happen bc stupid depression. It was a major letdown.

Like does celebrate mean acknowledge? Do literally anything? Is it a feeling? I voted based on feelings more than anything else.

(this is not any kind of judgment, rather curiosity)

[theradicalace]

my friends are starting to tell me that my voice sounds deeper hehee :3

[envolvenuances]

and I think child modelling should be illegal I'm not even joking