#even though i work under like 3 different people

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓖𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝓑𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝓑𝒐𝒚. WRIOTHESLEY ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 1.4k ノ gn reader — sweet intimate celebration of his birthday. subtle flirting (a failed attempt at doing so). established relationship. comforting fluff with hugs and giggles <3

The atmosphere in the Duke’s office is rather light-hearted and joyful, unlike the usual stern reputation of the Fortress. The steady hum of machinery beyond the thick walls buzzes along with the quiet crackle of a small, ornate heater placed in the corner — a luxury in the underwater prison.

The tea table is neatly set, the gleaming silver teapot releasing curling wisps of steam into the air, mingling with the earthy, spiced aroma of Chenyu Adeptea — a new blend being a part of your gift. Though muted in tone, you two celebrate this day with the gentle clink of porcelain teacups and muffled laughter. The sharp tang of the sea breeze and metallic rust replaced with a delicate sweetness that hints at the rare delight.

“Mittens, huh?”

It’s the low timbre of Wriothesley’s voice that breaks temporary silence, testing out the lovely other part of your gift, fingers examining the texture. He takes his time making sure they fit snugly, the pair of fine-woven mittens. Albeit he couldn’t care less about how they look.

“Well, it’s cold here in the Fortress, and the humidity makes it unbearable sometimes…”

“I will make great punches in these.” He says with a note of chuckle at the end, all while testing his grip in the fluffy covers on his hands. “Look at them, my new gloves to punish lawbreakers!”

The very image of Wriothesley imitating boxing punches with the fists wrapped in the softest of fabrics makes you giggle loud. Loud and clear, a sound he adores so much when it reverberates from the stone walls and metal pipes like delicate chimes in the wind. The sound he misses every single minute when you have to return above the sea waves.

His place has never felt this warm before, with the candles flickering on the curved desk, the tea table heavy from the gifts from the staff, and — last but not least — his heart is about to melt, a glowing cauldron of fondness for you. You are simply there, smiling back at him, raising the teacup in a silent toast for his birthday.

For someone who took this post in selfless service to the people and their safety, the fact that they all care so much — but none as much as you — makes him want to serve them twice as much. Maybe working in the Fortress, in this new home of his, isn’t that bad after all. No, not in the slightest. No worse than if he were to restart his entire life on the surface, in the society he doesn’t remember from his early years.

“Do you like them?”

You seem to notice the pause, the thoughtful gaze he shoots at the pair of mittens on his knuckles.

“A lot.” He responds softly, rubbing his thumb against the soft fabric. “They will serve me well.”

Butterflies dance in your stomach with each passing moment of admiring the way his hands seem so much more gentle than they appear to be, the touch not as hard and coarse as he puts it across. Though there is a hint of sadness, a lingering melancholy at the thought of how the roughness of his fingertips was created, the callouses on his palms a result of years and years of fighting.

“I’m happy you like them.” You say, leaning forward. “I was worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Enough?!” Wriothesley raises an eyebrow under the tuft of his cobalt bangs, perplexed. “Never in a thousand years could I ever deserve what you give me!” He holds his mitten-wrapped hands up just to make a point. “These? These are cute! I have never received fluffy gloves from anyone before. Not even once. This is so fun! You are the sweetest for coming up with this idea!”

The tenderness of his voice, almost desperate to show how much it all means to him — it’s silly, hilarious even that a small gift can make such a difference — the fondness pouring from his eyes, like he’s pouring liquid honey over your soul. You find yourself moving closer, drawn to him, craving his closeness. Craving to wrap your arms around his waist and find the steady thumping of his heart amidst all other background noises.

“Should we get you a pair for every winter month, then?” You joke, shyly leaning against him, carefully observing his reaction. “Who would’ve thought that the Duke of Meropide is such a sweetheart, hm? A good boy under those scary looks, all giddy over a colourful yarn.”

Wriothesley doesn’t answer at first, fighting off a boisterous laugh. His mind is racing in several different directions, struggling to form coherent thoughts under your touch. He sighs, gently enveloping you into his embrace and letting himself indulge in this feeling just for a little while longer. It is not enough to have these small moments when you visit him here, but he gladly accepts anything you offer him, secretly hoping there’s a chance you will stay with him longer this time.

Anything, a glimmer of hope.

And now you are saying all these sweet things…

“Why would you want to get me more when I can have you wrapped in my arms every winter?” He asks in the same tone you used earlier, with a barely audible chuckle at the end of the sentence. “You’re much warmer, you know.”

“Ah, you and your flirting out of nowhere! Just when I’m least prepared.” You shake your head, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips to shake off the fire running to your face at his comment.

“Are you embarrassed now?” He smiles softly, his eyes glinting mischievously in the candlelight.

“No!” You pout, unwilling to admit how you do melt a little under his gaze. “I can flirt back too, if you wish.”

“Please.” He begs, chuckling as he says that. “Entertain me with your wits.”

He seems amused by this idea. Not in a teasing way, but rather playful, genuinely interested in what you are about to say. And so you give it a try, breathing in slowly to think of something… well, witty. Or at least funny enough to make him smile.

Obviously, as if asked to show your skills on request, your head is empty. This is embarrassing, not funny at all. But you cannot let him see that, trying to appear cool and nonchalant about it.

“Well, perhaps you’re right—” you begin, “you may have those fluffy mittens on your hands, but you will still need someone to warm up your heart.”

“I think I may be infected with a cold by now,” he replies, barely holding it together as he leans in for a bear hug, the entire lump of his large self covering you in hearty embrace. “I might need some extra cuddles.”

You squirm in his hold, pretending to struggle as if your plan is to run away — yet he knows well enough that it’s a playful ruse to get more affection out of him. He snuggles against your cheek, gently rubbing his nose against your skin. There is so much he wants to say, so many things that swirl in his head, and yet no words are uttered. He feels content to enjoy this moment with you.

No interruptions, no reminders that you have to return to the surface soon.

When Wriothesley lets go of you, his eyes fixate on the lines of your face, and your lips curl into a warm smile. His hands cup your cheeks gently, not wanting to ever let go. Your skin is soft under his touch, warm against the wool of the fluffy mittens. He traces the curves of your face with the gentleness of someone who is seeing you for the first time, every minute detail captured and studied. Every subtle feature — the glint in your eyes, the slight twitch of your mouth as you bite back a grin — he’s committing it all to memory.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathes out, his words hanging in the air between you like a thin thread of golden light. “I—”

“I love you more.” You interrupt him, stealing the kiss that was on the tip of his tongue, along with the confession.

Wriothesley lets out a pleased sound, almost like a low purr. The soft blush creeping onto his cheeks makes his face seem softer, somehow less threatening. The Duke of Meropide no longer towers over you like a mountain, but he is the most tender of the men. And you couldn’t have fallen in love with anyone else.

No, only with him.

“Happy birthday, Wriothesley.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I interpreted the "adaptation from the manga" thing to imply that they'll animate the 3 Yuus (like you said) but my partner proposed smth to me that raised my concerns... what if they only animate Yuuka? or like- default to a female Yuu? I could see that bc it would be probably easier for them to have only one protagonist.

don't get me wrong I like Yuuka and I know a lot of TWST fans are women but since the studio involved is apparently known for shojos I'm scared they'll make it seem like the story is romantic/the game is an otome... Which I mean- we do have SOME fanservice stuff but it's definitely not a romance story. That's why I'm scared 😭 if they do go that path... I much rather prefer the disconnection (?) of having 3 different Yuus than the possibility of this...

Also I'm just 🥲 I'm scared ppl will see that and say ahhh So Yuu has always been a woman!! Because as a trans guy, one thing that rlly made me feel valid in a way was seeing that in the game Yuu has no gender at all... I don't go by they/them but I'd much rather be referred as that than to be misgendered. It's a small thing but it's such an important detail for me (the fact that Yuu is gender neutral/can be whatever u want them to be) that it being erased in the anime would make me pretty sad... even more if ppl take the anime as "confirmation" of Yuu's gender, which it wouldn't be regardless if they end up giving us a girl OR guy Yuu- it would just be another Yuu interpretation different from the game.

But yeah, personal stuff aside, I'm more scared by the possibility of them making it seem like it's a romance story 😭 or ppl calling TWST an otome... which I mean... some people already have that misconception, even some fans...

[Referencing this post and this news!]

I definitely think they're probably leaning towards a new Yuu every season; otherwise, there would be a very uneven distribution of screen time for one Yuu over the others, and that leads into the problem of one Yuu being "more" canon than the rest. Yes, it will probably be easier logistically speaking to keep the same Yuu for the entire anime--but I also said the same thing when we only had the Episode of Heartslabyul manga, and look what happened with that. We ended up getting Yuuka and Yuuta following Yuuken, regardless of the logistical inconvenience of it all. I think if the anime intended to have a singular Yuu to follow for the main story, they would have chosen to adapt the light novel (which has Yuuya across multiple volumes) instead of the manga. The conscious decision to adapt the manga (with changing Yuus) says something to me. So really, I don't think we have to worry about one "kind" of Yuu dominating the anime. I took a look at the portfolios of the two studios collaborating for the Twst anime and didn't see a ton of shoujo myself. There was definitely a handful of them, but overall there was a spread of genres. I think Yumeta Company (one of the studios) has Tokyo Mew Mew New under its belt, which is probably one of its better-known works and maybe that's where the "they're known for doing shoujo" allegations are coming from? Don't quote me on that, though. I'm not someone who closely follows anime studios.

I would, however, like to point out that we shouldn't put all our stock into the studios behind the anime. Yes, they are obviously animating the project and thus have an influence on how the final product is. However, there are tons of other people involved (like the script writer) that will dictate how the anime looks and feels. (In fact, the script writer for the Twst anime, Kato Yoichi, is not known for writing shoujo.) I highly doubt all the staff involved at every possible level of production are conspiring to make Twst a genre it's not. (Related: I blame socialization for this, but it's a little sad that most of us by default think one woman + a bunch of men in a cast must be romantic.)

Now, to your main point. I understand the initial fear of people misunderstanding Twst as a dating sim/otome from how it is presented. Really, I do. I also understand the frustration that comes with people claiming Yuu's identity or gender or what have you is "confirmed". But to that, I ask you: so what? And I don't mean that in a "your feelings aren't valid" way (because your feelings are very valid!) I mean in like... Do these misconceptions others have truly impact your own enjoyment? Do the people believing in these falsehoods erase what you know is the truth? I would wager it doesn't. There has been and always will be those who see Twst or interpret Yuu as something they are not. Lots of us (myself included) thought Twst was an otome game when they first heard of its concept. People claimed Yuuken was the definitive Yuu when the first chapter of the manga dropped. That's fandom, especially the larger they get. If we fixate on those sore spots, it will ultimately make us unhappy because there will never be an end to misunderstandings. I would advise that you try and detach from those worries and just focus on having your own fun in the fandom rather than worrying about how others are consuming or reacting to Twst. Yes, we want Twst, a franchise we've seriously been invested in and love, to be seen a certain way--but I don't think that should come at the cost of your enjoyment. Fandom is meant to be fun, and we don't want to make ourselves miserable by stressing over the "what ifs", you know? Please focus on yourself!!

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

Meet my sister P.2-Jude Bellingham

Part.1, Part.3

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

wearnings: +18,handjob

Jude returned home that evening with a strange feeling, a tension he couldn’t shake off. He had faced plenty of people in his life: opponents on the field, critics in the press, even stubborn teammates. But you? You were different. Not only had you dared to challenge him openly, but you had gotten under his skin in a way he couldn’t explain.

He let himself fall onto his couch, phone in hand. He tried to distract himself by scrolling through notifications and messages, but your face kept popping into his mind: the way your eyes sparkled with sarcasm, the provocative smile that seemed to say, "You’ll never have the upper hand with me.”

“Ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

With a resigned sigh, he opened Instagram and typed your name into the search bar. It didn’t take long to find you; your profile was verified and had millions of followers. Jude scrolled slowly, studying one photo after another.

There were pictures of you on red carpets, flawless in high-fashion gowns. Shots from ad campaigns, where your intense gaze and bold poses grabbed attention. Then, more personal images: you on a beach, the sun lighting up your skin; you in a recording studio with a satisfied smile; you laughing with a disarming naturalness.

His eyes stopped on one picture in particular: you were seated on a couch, wearing a red dress that hugged your curves perfectly. Your hair fell over your shoulders, and your smile was both sweet and mischievous.

Jude smirked, an arrogant grin reflecting his thoughts. “Sexy, no doubt about it,” he muttered to himself, leaning back into the couch. But then his smirk turned into a grimace. “But insufferable. Thinks she knows everything, always has to have the last word.”

Despite the irritation you caused him, he couldn’t look away. He kept scrolling, discovering more aspects of you that trapped him in a mix of attraction and annoyance.

“How does Federico put up with you?” he wondered, though a part of him knew that your personality was exactly what drew him in. You weren’t like the other women he knew. You didn’t try to please him or impress him. If anything, you did everything you could to challenge him.

“I don’t like you. You’re just a challenge,” he said out loud, almost as if trying to convince himself. But he knew there was something more. Maybe it was the way you never backed down, or maybe it was how your laughter managed to irritate and intrigue him at the same time.

Before he realized it, he had spent over half an hour on your profile. He abruptly shut his phone, almost annoyed at himself. “Ridiculous,” he muttered again, standing up and running a hand through his hair.

But as he headed to his bedroom, your face kept resurfacing in his mind. Jude didn’t want to admit it, but he already knew this wouldn’t be the last time he searched your name on Instagram. And that realization irritated him more than anything else.

He had just laid on the bed, his hands behind his head, trying to shake off the annoyance. But that annoyance had a very specific name: yours. He was convinced that it was enough to ignore you to stop thinking about you, but it did not work. The more he tried to drive you out of his mind, the more your sarcastic smile and intense eyes came to haunt him.

After a few minutes, he snorted frustrated, grabbed his phone and almost without thinking, went back to your Instagram profile. It was an impulsive gesture, one he knew he should not have done, but it was too late.

While scrolling through your photos once more, he found one that struck him more than the others. You were sitting on a balcony, with a breathtaking view behind you, but he didn’t notice anything around you. All his attention was on you. You wore a black dress with a dizzying slit that let your smooth skin glimpse. Your legs were crossed with natural grace, and your gaze, directed into the room, seemed to challenge anyone not to yield to your charm.

Jude stared at the picture for a few seconds, feeling his breath getting heavier. He felt his cock harden. Your body was amazing, she had already noticed that, but there was something more. Your attitude, that combination of sensuality and pride, was an open challenge. It seemed you were saying, "I know you want me, but you won’t have me easily."

«Damn...» he muttered to himself, feeling a wave of heat passing through him. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to regain control, but it was useless. His mind was filled with dirty thoughts about you, and that character which irritated him and fascinated him at the same time.

He dropped backwards on the bed, phone still in hand. With his right hand he threw his cock out of his boxer shorts and began to saw himself while his gaze returned to your picture, while a grimace was drawn on his face. «You think you are untamable, don’t you?» he said in a low voice, almost as if you were there to hear it.

The image of you gave him a shiver down his spine. He felt tense, stiff, as if the thought of you had taken over his body. He was used to having control over everything: in the field, in his personal life, with women. But you were another story.

He started to stroke his cock faster as he thought you were bent like a slut in front of him while you took his dick.

«I would tame you in a second,» he muttered, almost with anger.

But he knew that the real problem was not to tame you physically, but to tame your character. Because even though he thought you were incredibly hot, your strong temper and sarcasm drove him crazy. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to challenge you or win you over.

Jobe kept looking at your picture and continued to cut himself quickly, then came with a moan.

He closed his eyes for a moment trying to catch his breath

When he opened his eyes again, Jude closed the click phone and threw it on the bedside table. But your smile kept tormenting him. He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that irritated him more than anything. Because, deep down, he knew you’d find a way to sneak into his thoughts once again.

«I hate her»

---

The next morning, Jude arrived at the training ground still irritated with himself. He hadn’t slept well, tormented by thoughts of you. Every time he closed his eyes, your face resurfaced, along with the memory of that photo. He tried to shake off the tension, but it wasn’t easy, especially knowing that Vinicius and Kylian would be eager to ask how it went.

As he tied his cleats in the locker room, Vinicius walked in with his usual sly grin. Kylian followed closely behind, just as curious. They exchanged a knowing glance before approaching Jude.

"So, Bellingham," Vinicius started, slapping him on the back. "Federico told us you met his sister yesterday."

Jude let out a sigh, pretending indifference. "Yeah, so what?"

Kylian chuckled, leaning against the locker next to him. "So, tell us. How was it? Federico seemed so excited about the introduction."

Jude stood up, adjusting his training shirt. "Not much to say. She’s... irritating."

Vinicius raised an eyebrow, amused. "Irritating? Really? So, you didn’t like her?"

"It’s not about liking her," Jude replied, annoyed. "It’s that she has an unbearable personality. Always ready with a comeback, always provoking. She thinks she’s funny, but really..."

"But really, she made you lose your mind, huh?" Vinicius interrupted, a sly grin forming on his face.

"Stop it," Jude warned, shooting him a cold look. "She didn’t make me lose anything. She’s just another girl with a huge ego."

Kylian burst into laughter. "Yeah, sure. That’s why you’re talking about her, right? You know, Jude, when someone doesn’t really bother us, we don’t mention them at all."

Jude clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool. "I’m not talking about her. You’re the ones who keep bringing it up."

Vinicius sat down next to him, watching him with an amused expression. "You know, Jude, I’ve seen his sister a couple of times. And I gotta say, Federico’s right: she’s a bombshell. Beautiful, talented... and with a character that doesn’t go unnoticed. Maybe that’s what bothers you."

Jude turned to him, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean maybe you’re not used to a girl who doesn’t fall at your feet," Vinicius replied with a smirk. "Admit it, she stood her ground, and that pisses you off."

Kylian nodded, adding, "And let’s be real, someone like her isn’t exactly easy to ignore."

Jude sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’re making a mountain out of nothing. I’m not interested."

"Right, sure," Vinicius countered, laughing. "We’ll see how long it takes for you to come up with an excuse to see her again."

Jude stood up, heading towards the field with a neutral expression. "It’s not going to happen."

But as he walked, their laughter and words continued to echo in his mind. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he knew there was something about you that intrigued him. And that irritated him more than any provocation.

---

The night at the club had just begun, and the atmosphere was electric. Federico, Jude, Kylian, and other teammates had gathered there to unwind after an intense week. The dance floor was crowded, colorful lights flashed in every corner, and the music vibrated in the air, making everyone's heart beat to the rhythm. As always, Jude was the center of attention, surrounded by girls trying to catch his eye, but he seemed distant, as if something was distracting him. Maybe it was the thought of you, or maybe it was the irritation he still felt toward you, but he couldn't focus on anything else.

Vinicius and Kylian were more relaxed, chatting and laughing, while Federico was enjoying himself with some friends. But the atmosphere changed abruptly when the door to the club opened, revealing a figure walking in with confidence, turning everyone’s head. It was you, of course. Your entrance was theatrical, your radiant smile, and the energy you exuded from your presence seemed to be the only thing capturing everyone’s attention.

Vinicius and Kylian's eyes lit up. "Look who's here," Kylian said, impressed by your entrance. "You can't miss her."

Vinicius nodded, watching you with admiration. "It's impossible not to stare. Beautiful, confident... and that personality that makes her even more intriguing."

Meanwhile, Jude, who had been trying to ignore you until that moment, let out a visible sigh, feeling that annoying pang of irritation grow inside him. You were moving on the dance floor with natural sensuality, effortlessly, as if the music was a part of you. Every step, every movement, drew attention, and the girls around Jude seemed to forget about him, all focused on you. Jude, however, couldn't stop watching you, despite his irritation.

"Do you like her?" Vinicius asked with a smile, noticing Jude’s fixed gaze on you.

Jude shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "No," he replied curtly. "It annoys me how she stands out like that."

"Though you can’t take your eyes off her, right?" Kylian teased, with his usual knowing grin. "Are you sure you don’t like her?"

"I don’t like her," Jude repeated, but his voice betrayed a slight uncertainty.

Meanwhile, you continued to dance, unaware of their comments. Your energy was contagious to everyone, but it seemed like it wasn’t sitting well with Jude. Every movement you made made him more tense, and every glance he threw at you made him feel strangely uneasy. He couldn’t understand what it was, but there was something about you that irritated him and at the same time attracted him, a contrast he couldn’t settle.

Vinicius and Kylian kept making appreciative comments, laughing between themselves, while Jude distanced himself from the conversation, trying to deflect the attention. But the truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the fact that he was so irritated by you made him even more annoyed.

[boobav]

I'm not ready for act 3 😚

People go missing sometimes.

It's a part of modern life. Even in a city as enforced as Piltover, a city as patrolled and watched as Piltover- it happens. There are still monsters that roam alleys, or wear uniforms as camouflage. There are still tragedies in everyday life. Despite seeming so very distant when they're plastered on newspapers, or milk cartons, they happen. They're real.

But people like Jayce are not supposed to go missing.

Maybe it's selfish to say that. Maybe it's something that's meant to go unspoken, the fact that some people are considered more important by society. That some people have more privilege, more protection from the uncaring nature of catastrophe.

And yet, despite Jayce's renowned status, the man of progress, despite him holding the gaze of Piltover itself- he's gone missing.

You're not sure how long it's been. How many sullen days have passed, searching, even in the unlikeliest of places, for a sign. A message. A murmur would do. The weeks have simply collapsed into each other, a sinkhole of hours.

You too, following the hours, have collapsed into yourself. The days spent wrapped in cloak roaming Zaun for information have little difference to the days spent curled in bed like a discarded child's toy. Every minute is one, bound together by pure desperation, utter confusion, and endless despair.

Because how could he have just... Vanished?

Just like that, a man of yesterday. It seems that the city is too caught up in political tribulations to care about his disappearance. Some haven't even noticed it. On your endless quest for information, more than once you've received the response, Jayce Talis? I didn't even know he was missing.

But you haven't given up. Not yet. Despite the circles under your eyes, the new strain in your shoulders. Despite the ever-growing pit in your stomach. For what else is there to do but search? Even if you 'gave up', you'd be looking for his shadow in the street, searching for his image in the crowd whilst trying to wipe it from your memory.

You run a hand down your face, curl into the covers that bit more. A knock at the door forces your tired eyes to re-open. Fatigue in your very self argues against moving, and for a a few moments getting out of bed seems the most difficult task in the world. But the knock comes again, harder. With some garbled noise you crawl out the covers as though emerging from a cocoon, movements lethargic like those of a dying animal.

The first lock comes undone with the work of your fingers. Then the next. Your hand hesitates, though, as it grasps the doorknob, your mind considering the swathe of potentials, an unwanted bouquet of sorts. A sales pitch? A concerned visitation? An enforcers questioning eye?

Or- maybe, a new lead. Unlikely, but it's enough to force your hand.

What greets you is none of those things.

You don't recognise him at first- what, with the tattered clothing, the deep-set frown, the beard as messy as his hair.

As soon as he looks up, though, when those terribly familiar eyes reach yours, the confusion evaporates. Boils away to unearth a passion you can hardly hold; it makes your hands shake, your eyes line with tears, your mouth dry in wordless ecstasy. His name leaves your lips as a whisper, and his gaze falters from yours, the soft reality at complete odds with the one he's settled in. The one with sharp edges, with blood and steel as key elements, not butter and affection.

Jayce's face twists, the onset of tears, and all at once he reaches forward to pull you into himself. Hides his sadness in the crook of your neck, his hammer clunking to the ground beside him. You hadn't even noticed he was holding it. His hands run to your waist, pulling at the fabric to ascertain its reality, but he finds it inadequate. He reaches under your shirt, his warm hands against your skin, and he sighs instead of sobbing.

He's not sure if he can anymore. If that part of him survived the Arcane.

But he's here, now. With you. His hands roaming your back, your arms thrown around his neck. Like the pose from a romance novel. The thought drags some whimper of humour from him, and he thinks that's a good sign.

He smells of oil and iron. Earthy. He mumbles about how much he missed you, right into your ear, breath hot. You think you're crying, though you're not entirely certain. The sensations in your body, your mind, overlap into something abstract to the point that crying seems like a spiritual experience. Like the word crying is unable to describe the motion, the true feeling.

You pull him inside, the door slamming shut a reminder of reality, the loud noise binding you to earthly sensation. The questions that fall from your lips are boundless, piles upon piles of vocalised mysteries that Jayce can't seem to answer coherently. You sit him down, push his hair from his face and cup his jaw tenderly. Tenderly as though he could break any second, but from that newfound fire in his eyes, from the dirt staining his skin, you know such a thought is ludicrous. Peeling off his tattered overcoat and the flimsier shirt underneath reveals bruising you could never even picture before now. The curves and hard muscle of Jayce now stained purple, now scarred in places that'd been smooth perfection beforehand.

A part of him, he thinks, should perhaps be insecure of your wandering eyes, your wandering fingertips. He's changed. His body has been torn, battered, bruised. No longer made of marble, but of flesh.

But your eyes are gentle. Concerned, but gentle. When you settle into his lap to hold him close again, to press desperate kisses against his lips, against his neck, he feels he can never leave your side again. Feels an avalanche of guilt for doing so in the first place, despite the decision not exactly being his own.

Whatever comes next, he knows he'll have you. You know you'll have him. And in this moment, your foreheads together, eyes searching each others for the things that can't be felt with words, you both know that it'll be enough.

[rei-ismyname]

EXCEPTIONAL X-MEN #3 FTA

After a pretty disappointing week of X-Men comics it's a delight to read and analyse Eve Ewing's Exceptional X-Men. The repeated issues I have with the other titles are just not present here and after three consistent bangers Ewing and co have my trust.

Emma is right

We pick up exactly where issue #2 left off, and this opening scene of all the main characters makes me realise how tightly the execution is. We know where each of them is at and (at least broadly what they want) - we're getting to know the kids organically. Where the other two books feel like action figures isolated from each other for no good reason, Kate Pryde's need to get away from the X-Men was established before the title even began. She just wants a normal life, to date girls and process her trauma. Emma Frost showing up to answer the call she refused throws her off immediately and they briefly scrap. The kids aren't just saying nothing because they didn't get a script today (hi Jubilee) - they're frozen by Emma. It's a small thing, but it's purposeful and flows elegantly.

Priti, Kate's housemate/friend from school, breaks up the fight for the most relatable reason - she doesn't want to lose the security deposit. Perhaps a sign that Kate doesn't fit into the 'norma'l world as much as she wants...or Emma just really knows how to push her buttons. I think Emma is hurting too, though she hides it under her usual scene-stealing exterior. I can't wait for more of their dynamic. Yeah, they'll almost certainly figure out a working relationship but their pain isn't being dismissed either. I feel like the pair are a successful version of what Gail Simone is doing with Rogue.

They stop fighting and have a little tea party, then Axo asks the question I'd been dreading the answer to - 'do you trust Emma or not?' Kate grew up being terrified of Emma with good reason and never let her forget why she did not trust her. Emma spent decades earning that trust and proving herself a hero, leader and teacher - but the First Krakoan Age had them grow closer than ever before. They worked well together and became friends, they were a force for good on Krakoa (mostly.) It's a shame that this is a metric, but two thumbs up for not rolling any of that back. These feel like the members of the resistance who were there for each other in Fall of X. Kate herself is regressing a little, but it's believable as a trauma response.

Kate doesn't want to train young mutants and Emma does. Prito even has a space they can use and the kids are keen! Everyone is happy then, right? Well, I think that's going to be the core tension for a while. Everyone except Kate wants this, but I think Kate needs this.

This 'getting to know you' circle does a lot of work in centering the young mutants, reminding us they're here to stay while showing us who they are and the beginning of their social dynamic. I haven't been a teen for a long time but their voices sound authentic, even to the point of highlighting that Bronze/Trista is a bit younger than the other two.

Agreed, do not read the comments.

They want to be doing this! One of the most challenging parts of being a teen is navigating peer groups. Solidarity in experiencing the same kind of otherness plus scary body changes is healthy, and it's lovely to chalk up a W despite the fact that 'people hate us.'

This issue also asks the question Rogue did in Uncanny #1, but as organic dialectic. It introduces the tension between self defense and being a superhero when you have powers - the difference between Emma and Kate externalised. Kate is excited despite herself until Emma shows up with costumes, and I think she's right to push back or at least be wary. But is this about her or the kids? It's not the most admirable contradiction but it's very human. They're both right that the old ways were flawed and they need to try something new.

Is she talking about Colossus? MF is not that gentle. Their costumes look amazing.

Unsurprisingly, Emma and Kate are a great team. There's tension underneath there, but they wouldn't be doing this if their friendship didn't run deep. New kids in relaunches past have often had their powers explained by Cerebro or a nosy telepath. Learning about it from their mouths as they're starting to use them in a controlled environment achieves the wiki entry, shows them learning to use them, and importantly gives us more of their personality.

Emma conjures up some Brood-like baddies and everyone freaks out but some growth is evident. It's Axo that figures out they're not real. Kate is not impressed. I doubt they'll throw down, but her sending the kids away feels like an extreme reaction. Good, she's got shit to say and hurts that need to be spoken. The kids don't leave, but we're left with all this tension in the air to be resolved next issue.

I LOVE that the three kids cuddle/huddle in the background.

Who better to break the ice (sorry) than Bobby Drake? Having him just fly in the window and cooling down the tension (sorry again) could feel random and silly but it works. These two have a lot of history and it makes sense that he'd seek her out. Kate has been turning her back on anyone X-related - will she freeze Bobby out too? The kids are awed by him and it's half the Marauders back together, so I don't think he'll get the cold shoulder.

I feel very confident in calling Exceptional X-Men the best X-Men book in From The Ashes. It's got an honesty and sincerity to it while remixing the hits of first arcs and adding plenty of new. The art style is colourful and emotive which adds so much to a book taking people's feelings seriously. If you pick up nothing else, this is the one.

[ckret2]

I just wanted to say a few things.

#1 you are an amazing writer, and your work gave me a reason to pick up a book again.

#2 If Bill can disasozeate (pardon my spelling) for millions of years, why does he simply not do that in The Void? Perhaps it is the feeling of control. He cannot leave the void unless he is let out and that is terrifying to him. Perhaps it is that he is waiting on nothing. I remember it was stated in that same chapter that he feels as if he is waiting on nothing.

#3 how to I view your older chapters on this fic? I am extremely new to Tumblr and I just got here from your A03. Do I simply have to keep scrolling? Thank you very much and please have a truly wonderful day! :D

-Vivian

vivian-za-determined-luna-moth asked:

'Ight so nvm, I am dumb and did not read your pinned comment.

I cannot wait to read more of your fantastic work!

:D

hey, you found it and that's what's important lol. God it would be such a dick move if i forced people to even just scroll back through all the posts I've tagged about this fic, considering uh,

... that's a lot of tagged posts.

Re: #2: I think you asked me the same question on AO3, but as far as I know AO3 doesn't send email notifications to guest accounts, so you probably didn't see my reply over there! So I'll copy-paste it here. (If you DID see my reply... lol sorry for copy/pasting at you.)

Humans can meditate for hours on end with no serious long-term psychological effects. But total sensory deprivation can make it impossible to tell whether your eyes are open or shut within 10 minutes and can induce hallucinations within 15 minutes. There's a huuuge difference between not much stimulation and NO stimulation.

And I don't think Bill ever once in his life experienced a pure void before Theraprism. OUTSIDE the Nightmare Realm, realities come and go, and his options are limited when there's no nearby dimensions for him to contact; but the Nightmare Realm is always, always there, never empty, and Bill's always in it.

Even if Bill HAD been in total voids before—voluntarily dissociating vs being locked in the solitary wellness void is like the difference between swimming underwater and being held underwater by your throat. Sure, you could just hold your breath to cope with being held underwater—after all, you can probably hold your breath for 30-60 seconds! Why would you panic in under 5 seconds?

But in reality you probably WOULD panic in under 5 seconds. You wouldn't simply calmly hold your breath and wait to be let up. Not unless you agreed to be held underwater, knew how long you'd be held under, and trusted that you'd be let up—and even then, you'd probably have to consciously suppress the instinct to struggle. If you had NONE of those reassurances? You'd panic, flail, and fight. Even though you COULD "simply" hold your breath.

Bill did not agree to go in the water, and he has no way of knowing when or if they'll let him up for air.

[fandoms-writings]

I need a new job, i hate it here

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[hecksupremechips]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

[doctorweebmd]

HELLO

i have emerged from my baldurs gate 3 coma and a week on service to return in glory and bring you that good, good sskk porn

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ newfangled technology ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader ��� xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ logan finds your vibrator and discovers a wonder of modern technology┊1k words

contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊implied age gap, established relationship, vibrators, overstimulation & mentioned multiple orgasms, receiving oral

➤ author's note: first logan smut!! i’m a bit burnt out of writing it actually so idk if there will be more, but i couldn’t let this idea go <3

logan likes to believe that he understands modern technology for the most part even though you can often hear him muttering curses under his breath at the stupid machine that isn’t working. if most parents and grandparents are struggling to figure it all out, you can bet that this two-hundred-year-old mutant does. it feels like yesterday when people were using rotary phones in their homes, then hand-held flip-phones, and now smartphones that could show you anything you could dream of at the tap of a button— he feels as though the world is growing much faster than an old man like him can keep up with too many gadgets for too many different purposes getting too many upgrades.

any attempts to get him to understand the internet fail for the most part, so he uses his own phone for nothing other than calling, texting, photography, and occasionally googling some sort of questions. he finds advertisements about the latest devices annoying, but he’s very appreciative of motorcycles, kitchen appliances, and other simple machines that make life so much easier compared to his time.

he’s learning about new tech every week, new and pre-existing, both ones which make him wonder if he should get it for himself or ones which make him furrow his brow at the fact that such a thing actually exists. tonight is one of the times when he has both reactions, but more than anything, an intense curiosity had been ignited in his soul.

you asked him to look for something in your bedroom drawers, something that he can’t recall at the moment after he found something that piqued his attention: an egg-shaped item coated in pink medical-grade silicone neatly hidden under layers of clothing and tightly wrapped in a bag. it was tiny in his massive hand and he didn’t have the foggiest idea what it was or what it was made for until you walked in to see what was taking so long, hearing you gasp and turning his head to find you covering your face with your hands looking absolutely mortified. you struggled to stop yourself from stuttering when you had to explain to him what it was, a sex toy that you bought sometime in the first year of college and buried once you got together since it was no longer needed. it was the only one you’ve ever bought and you’ve honestly forgotten about it until now without any idea of how he would react.

while you were humiliated about it, you could see a sparkle of intrigue in his eyes which quickly led to finding yourself in bed with your clothing removed and his new discovery against your aching cunt. it wasn’t difficult to figure out how to change the intensity of the vibrations with a press of a button, but did he need to put it at the highest setting when you’ve practically lost feeling in your legs at this point? it felt so strange at first now that you’re so accustomed to him pleasuring you personally, yet that foreign sense melted away with the familiar memory of taking care of your needs when lonely— except now you had your handsome lover holding it for you with your hands gripping the sheets instead. 

he’s amused at how such a small little thing was so powerful in reducing you to a moaning mess as it pulls another orgasm from your spent body, feeling his neglected cock twitch with every blissful moan past your lips louder than the humming of the toy. you mutter something along the lines of asking him not to stare out of embarrassment, but it all falls on deaf ears since the view that he has is downright mesmerizing, watching intently as he presses it into your puffy folds with a focus on your sensitive clit. all the while, he’s holding your legs open to stop you from closing them instinctively when it felt like too much, his large hand being a comforting weight on your thigh as you squirm in place.

your body trembled in sync with the pulsating toy, walls barely able to clench around the head of the vibrator while leaking like a faucet and dripping all over logan’s fingers. “it’s too much-!!” you whined, throwing your head back into the pillows with glossy eyes and drool starting to seep out the corner of your mouth from the electricity coursing through your veins. it’s surprising that you were even able to utter a coherent phrase when your brain had essentially been turned to mush.

“you can give me one more, can’t you doll?” there’s a hint of sadism in his voice detectable to even your ecstasy-fogged mind where you knew that he was getting off on your reactions alone, an arrogant smirk plastered across his handsome face that was so slappable and sexy. he can almost feel himself drooling too, craving a taste of the sweet nectar making a mess everywhere. “such a desperate and needy little thing,” he tutted, observing your greedy pussy trying to pull the vibrator deeper within you. “go on, cum for me.”

as if his words commanded your body, the tight coil twisting in your abdomen finally snapped, making you writhe and cry out in relief. your heart was pounding in your chest and you gasped for air, feeling sweaty and exhausted as that must have been your third or fourth climax. you stared at him through half-lidded eyes trying to determine if he had had enough of using the vibrator for torturous pleasure until he suddenly pulled you closer to him to bury his face into your soaked heat. he just needed a taste of you, to lick you clean and make you tug on his hair.

watching you become undone when he doesn’t even need to lift a finger seemed to awaken something in him… it’s definitely a piece of modern technology that he would like to invest in, he plans to buy more of different types, shapes, and sizes to try out on you (the definition of “spectacular, give me fourteen of them right now”).

[dalishious]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Familiar Faces and Factions

The trailer for Dragon Age: The Veilguard has dropped, and I couldn’t be more excited. It’s like a new breath of life has entered my lungs!

Within the trailer, we now have confirmation of who our seven companions are going to be, and among them are a few familiar faces from the book Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights. We also have some name-droppings of a couple factions featured in the same book and the comics, Dragon Age: The Missing. So, here is what knowledge is established about these faces sand factions.

Neve Gallus & The Shadow Dragons

Neve Gallus was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Streets of Minrathous”. She comes off as a no-nonsense and a little intense kind of person. Neve is a Tevinter mage who works as a private investigator. For example, if someone wants some detective work done but doesn’t want the public to know, they would hire Neve. On occasion, she’s even been hired by the templars, who act like just regular cops in Tevinter – and yes, that includes their corruption and primary goal of simply protecting the elite – but Neve prefers to work alone because of that corruption, and has a personal grudge against the order for taking bribes to cover up crimes.

Neve has a prosthetic leg below the knee, made of dwarven-crafted metal.

In The Missing, Neve says she is friends with the Shadow Dragons. In the article shared by EA, as of The Veilguard, she is officially a member. The Shadow Dragons are a group of concerned Tevinter citizens who help those in need. This includes supporting escaped slaves, for example.

Emmrich Volkahrin

Emmrich Volkahrin was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “Down Among the Dead Men”. He is a necromancer from Nevarra, and therefore naturally a member of the Mortalitasi – specifically, a professor in the Mourn Watch. The Watchers serve as elite guardians of the Grand Necropolis. Emmrich is on the eccentric side, personality-wise, but kindly and informal.

Emmrich has a skeleton assistant name of Manfred, who helps him with different office tasks. He also has friends in Myrna, a fellow Watcher, and Audric, a dead guardsmen who looks after the library.

Lucanis Dellamorte

Lucanis Dellamorte was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Wigmaker Job”. He is the favourite grandson of Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon (leader) of the Antivan Crows. As such, he was raised from birth to be the perfect assassin in a ruthless and torturous environment, knowing only cruelty from his family. This has led to him feeling less like a person and more like a living weapon – and he is treated like one by everyone who knows of him. He has “the Demon” as a nickname.

I know a few people are curious about the “mage killer” title in the trailer. Rest assured that Lucanis specifically kills evil blood mages. In his own words: “If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I’m not going to complain.”

Where his cousin Illario has a “silver tongue” as Lucanis puts it, he himself is a lot blunter. His reputation of a killer is spotless, except for one small problem: He has a heart under all that black leather.

Lucanis and Illario get along quite well, except for the fact that Lucanis is destined to be the next First Talon, after Caterina dies. Illario wants the job far more than Lucanis, but Lucanis isn’t sure he’s capable of making a decision for himself that goes against the wishes of the Crows.

The Veil Jumpers

The Veil Jumpers were first introduced in The Missing #3. They are a group made up of primarily Dalish elves, though also inclusive of other folks of any walks of life willing to help, working to try and control the new threats within Arlathan Forest. The forest has become a ground of chaotic magic, with the Veil so thin that time and place is jumbled together. Thus, the Veil Jumpers move in and out of the spots that bleed into one another.

The Veil Jumpers do have a headquarters called “The Sanctum”, but we know nothing else about it.

The Lords of Fortune

Despite the Lords of Fortune being mentioned in more than one Tevinter Nights story, as well as the show Dragon Age: Absolution, we don’t know a lot about them. The only concrete information provided is that they are a loose group of people who collect trinkets and glory. They come out of Rivain. They typically wear a lot of their collected trinkets like badges of honour. That’s really all there is, so I can’t wait to learn more.

[moonstruckme]

rooomate james. 😭😭 literally obsessed w himm!!

Me too I love him (and you!) sm <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 808 words

You don’t recognize James’ car until he shouts at you. 

“Hey!” 

You give a little jump, turning midair to find James smiling out the rolled-down window. 

“Want a lift?” 

“God, you scared me!” You backtrack and open the passenger door. The seat looks to have been tidied in a hurry, receipts and takeaway containers tossed into the backseat. “How’d you even know I’d need a ride?” 

James refrains from responding to give you an expectant look. You roll your eyes and buckle your seatbelt. Satisfied, he puts the car in reverse, setting his hand on your seat to look behind him as he backs out of the parking spot. 

“You weren’t home when I got there,” he says, “and then I remembered on Sundays you usually get off at eleven, so here I am. Is Art not with you?” 

“No, he wasn’t working tonight.” 

James doesn’t seem too disappointed by this. He pulls onto the street. You watch him, looking almost unconsciously for signs of wear and tear. 

Now that rugby season is in full swing, he’s gone not just during the day for training but sometimes overnight for away games. You’ve been alone in your apartment for the whole weekend while he played in London and then Bristol. It was weird. You think you’ve accidentally grown used to having James around. You don’t fancy yourself a very tactile person, and the urge to hug him isn’t terribly strong, but it’s there. 

“How was work?” he asks you. 

“It was fine. How were your matches?” 

“They were fine,” he imitates you, grinning. “No, it’s like I said. Winning the second one’s always better than winning the first and losing the second. It’s nice to end on a good note.”

He’d texted continual updates while he was gone. You sat on your couch, pretending to yourself or perhaps to some invisible, judgemental observer that you were watching TV when really you were entirely focused on James’ texts. You imagined him sitting in his hotel room doing the same, or maybe in a pub with his teammates, smiling at his phone each time you responded. 

Your imagination has become terribly overindulgent lately. 

“Honestly, I was pretty disappointed you weren’t home when I got there,” James says, a familiar teasing lilt to his voice. “I was hoping to come in and catch you wearing one of my jumpers and staring tearily at a framed photo of me.” 

You roll your eyes, but your face burns. You did use his shampoo, once. In your defense, you’d run out of yours, but you thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to smell like him, nice and fresh and comforting. It had foamed more than you expected. It did smell really nice, but it made your hair feel dry (boy shampoo always does that, you’ve no idea how James’ curls seem to thrive under such poor treatment) and you felt silly about it for days, lovesick in the most derogatory sense. 

Didn’t stop you from sniffing your hair occasionally, though. 

“You weren’t gone to war,” you reply. “And where would I get a framed photo of you?” 

James looks affronted. “I assumed you already had one. How did you get through the weekend without even a photo? You brave, brave girl.” 

“I actually threw a rager,” you deadpan. “Rented out your room to six people traveling through with the carnival and let them invite over all their friends. Did loads of hard drugs.” 

“Well, we all have different ways of coping.” He reaches over to squeeze your shoulder consolingly. You pretend goosebumps don’t skitter all the way down your arm from the brief touch. “And what a marvelous job you’ve done covering up your escapades!” He exclaims as you pull up in front of the apartment. “I haven’t come across the cocaine dust on our bathroom counter yet, so you must have really done a thorough cleanup.” 

“Keep looking, it’s around there somewhere.” 

James laughs. You’re slower getting out of the car than he is, and by the time you emerge he’s in front of you, pulling you into a hug. You think your bones liquefy. He’s warm and strong and he smells like his shampoo, both arms squishing you heartily before he lets go with a little laugh. 

“Sorry,” he says, bringing his hands to your upper arms, “I didn’t even ask. I just missed you, you know?” James has this look on his face, smile brilliant and eyes wide open. So saccharine sweet you almost can’t look at him. “Guess I got used to having you around.” 

You do your best to smile back. “Yeah, me too.” 

He squeezes your arms before turning to go inside. “You smell like Italian food, too. I don’t suppose you’ve cooked anything recently that’s still in the fridge? I’m beginning to think about second dinner.” 

[calmlb]

It’s been clear that the Tanizakis aren’t siblings from the very beginning

here’s some evidence now that it’s been confirmed canon…

everyone who’s read irl Tanizaki’s book knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves

BUT just because the Tanizakis aren’t siblings doesn’t mean you can’t feel uncomfortable about them. if you feel uncomfortable, GOOD. that’s exactly what they want

the Tanizakis, Mori— they all use these disturbing ruses to disarm or distract people in order to protect themselves, or to accomplish their goals. this is a writing device that asagiri commonly employs as a way to parallel the irl literature (it’s actually ingenious)

there are 4 main indicators that have always made it clear to me that Junichiro & Naomi are not siblings:

1. most obviously— their character designs. Harukawa is extremely intentional with character designs, & she very intentionally made Naomi & Junichiro look nothing alike

their eye shapes are purposely different

their color palettes are contrasting

even their differing styles of clothing have meaning

this was all done so that the audience could PLAINLY see that they’re not related— so that WE know that they’re lying when they say they ARE related

2. how the people around them respond to their act.

the general reaction is “don’t question it”— which is exactly what they want. “be distracted by how uncomfortable you feel so that you look away from what we’re hiding” (this is likely a protective measure)

3. most importantly, this is meant to parallel irl Tanizaki’s book “Naomi,” where the main character Joji picks up Naomi to raise her into his ideal woman, but since she's so young (& a minor) they call each other cousins (Joji makes no sexual advances on young Naomi btw)

however, his plan backfires because when Naomi gets older & they get married, she flips the script on him & manipulates HIM so that he's under her thumb (which is why bsd Tanizaki is at a domineering Naomi's mercy). Joji let her have her way because of his masochistic tendencies

4. lastly is the emphasis that Asagiri and the Tanizakis themselves put on calling each other siblings.

over & over, it’s “my brother this” & “my sister that”

like they’re desperately trying to convince us that it’s true (“don’t let your lying eyes deceive you”)

here are just a few of many examples from the light novels…

again, if you’ve read “Naomi” you knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves

just like if you’ve read irl Mori’s works, it’s clear that bsd Mori isn’t a pedophile

just like if you’ve read No Longer Human you know that Dazai’s an unreliable narrator. he makes you think he’s a bad person bc he believes he’s a bad person, but those around him see him differently (btw this doesn’t mean he’s never done anything “bad,” though bsd isn’t about morality— but that’s another discussion)

anyway, i’m so excited for the Tanizakis backstory to be revealed so that we can better understand why they use this defense!!

also let this be a reminder to READ THE LITERATURE if you’re able to!! even reading synopses & analyses of the coordinating books makes bsd make much more sense 🥹

reminder that this how you’re supposed to react while reading bsd:

also, if you’re interested in a post explaining how Mori isn’t a pedo, i wrote this analysis on twt. OR you can read this document that one of my moots sent me (remember: analyzing a character does NOT mean you condone any actions they may or may not commit!)

[awrkive]

Idk I must have some problems I need to talk about with my therapist, but I NEED the #3 lmao

summary: jungkook is usually a nice guy from the way he interacts with other people – but the only exception comes to you. and you can't figure out why.

w/c: 3.5k

note: aurkayyyy general consensus says write # 3 and that post got 40 likes idk so here it is ig.. unedited cos its 3am but also i tried my very best awrkive nation 😞💔 under the cut cos its long asf for a drabble crying

People always gravitate to you. You have this sort of unbreakable and contagious energy around you that just pulls people right into your orb – your classmates in middle school through college, your cousins, even the cashiers at the cafes you like visiting downtown every here and there. 

And it is why Jeon Jungkook from your Environmental Science class baffles you. Because while everybody in the lecture hall – even prof Nam – likes to give you a smile or even just a nod of acknowledgement when you walk in, he does the total opposite and will just do about anything to avoid you. 

It had been during the first week of the term when you realized this fact. When Jungkook seemed to have abhorred the idea of sitting next to you because somebody had “stolen” his seat. 

Of course he knew the fact that you technically could not “steal” a seat in college – there are no such things as assigned seats in college, after all – so you had kindly offered the empty chair beside you, then, but he just looked at you with his knitted brows, like he couldn’t believe you had asked him that in the first place. 

In the end, he chose the free seat at the back of the hall – even though as far as you know him, he’s the type to like sitting in the front rows to engage with the class better. 

However, that did not deter you from trying to befriend him. In fact, it just made you want to get closer to him more. 

You like Jeon Jungkook. Not romantically, of course! You just like the fact that he is extremely smart and listen, he seems nice. The girls always have something good to say about him, and he’s friends with one of your closest friends, Namjoon – whose judgment you trust most of all. He’s acquainted with most of the people you know and you’ve seen him interact with others – he’s charming and doesn’t exactly look broody and uninterested when he’s with them. 

So when Prof Nam partnered you both in a presentation for your final requirement for the term, you were over the moon to have been given the opportunity. 

“__,” Jungkook calls, but you’re way too busy admiring the strands of his hair that had now been dyed to gold – a contrast to his previously dark brown locks. It’s mostly hidden from the beanie he’s wearing. Something you’ve noticed he’s been wearing a lot these days even though it’s not that cold. 

You think it’s because he’s not too keen on getting attention for his newly dyed hair.

Jungkook calls your name one more time, and this time it snaps you out of your trance. 

“Hm?” You look up, blinking at him – only to be met with his knitted brows again. At that all too familiar look by now, you frown slightly, knowing the tell-tale signs of his annoyance. 

“I’ve been asking you about biofuels for the past two minutes.” 

“Oh!” Your eyes widen for a bit, quickly looking at your iPad. “Uhm… it’s here…” you slide your device over to his direction and he’s quick to read over your work. With him seated beside you, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and you don’t even think it’s cologne in the first place. It just seems like his natural smell – like fresh laundry. Downy or something. 

Ever since you started working on the project, you’ve been going to cafes and the library to work on it – for at least an hour – and you’re starting to get accustomed to everything Jeon Jungkook. He’s smart – and that’s a given – but he also smells really good; that’s what you noted specifically.

But most importantly, he’s dyed his mid-length hair blonde. And he looks different but somehow… really handsome. With his prescription glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, you just can’t help but to look. 

“Where is your citation for this?” He says, pointing to a certain part of your work. 

At that, you grow anxious. Jungkook’s really serious about his academics. And even though he looks distracting with his blonde hair right now, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous. 

You’re not dumb or something! You’ve survived three years of college just fine – you’re just not the likes of him, or Namjoon, for that matter. But you do well for yourself. 

But Jungkook, reading over your work with furrowed brows, you can’t help but second-guess yourself.

Especially when the next thing you can say is just, “Oh, uhm… I thought citations would only be after every four sentences?” 

“Did you not read the instructions?” Jungkook says. It’s not harsh but there’s a certain lilt to it. A bit pointed that you visibly recoil. As if noticing you do that, Jungkook clears his throat and looks right back to your iPad. With a tone that considerably sounds gentler to you this time, he says, “You should put a citation every three sentences.” 

“Okay…” You say. You look at Jungkook and you give him a tight-lipped smile when he meets your gaze. “I’m sorry.” 

His gaze lasts longer than necessary – he almost always doesn’t really look at you but this time he does, and just when you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, he peels his eyes away from you and turns to his computer, not saying anything. 

You sulk in your seat, revising your paper while Jungkook acts like a stranger beside you again. 

“Kook…” you say after awhile. You watch as Jungkook visibly stills at the nickname. Nonetheless, he hums, but he doesn’t stray his eyes from his laptop. “I really like your hair.” 

Nothing. 

“Kookie…” This time, you poke at the material of his purple hoodie. “I said I like your hair.” 

He doesn’t budge. 

When you make a move to poke him again, he finally says, “I heard that.” 

You turn back to your google doc with a pout. 

You don’t know what you’re expecting from him. A thank you, maybe? But that would be unlikely for him to say to you. He’s just always so quiet around you. Annoyed, irritated—

“Thank you.” 

At first you don’t quite catch it, but you kind of got the gist. Unbelieving, you turn to him with a confused look. “What?” 

“Isaidthankyou.” 

But it was spoken so fast that you just grew more puzzled. 

“What…?” 

“Nevermind.” He says, hacking away on his laptop again. 

You pout the whole time writing your paper. 

———

You’re just about to approach Jungkook to talk about your recent development for your project when somebody beats you to it first. 

It’s Han Hyorin from the same class. You made friends with her from another minor you’ve had in the previous semester and she was a really nice woman – sort of similar to you. A big ball of sunshine, all smiles and cheerful and full of energy. It’s why you clicked instantly a few months ago. 

But that’s also why it surprises you when you see her talking animatedly with Jungkook and him listening to her attentively – smiling and laughing. 

Certainly not his vibe when you’re the one in conversation with him. 

Listen, you’ve been so accustomed to his behavior to you all this time that you just don’t mind it now. But for the record, you just thought that maybe – he just can’t quite level up to your energy. You’re too bubbly and he’s too… calm. And you get that! You certainly don’t hold it against him. 

But as he catches a glimpse of you his mood turns completely different, no longer smiling ear to ear. It makes Hyorin stop speaking, turning her body to look at your direction as well. 

“Oh, hi __!” She greets, grinning. “I was just talking to Jungkook here.” 

“Hi, Hyorin.” You wave at her, mirroring her smile. You walk towards them, hugging your iPad tight to your chest. “Hi, Jungkook.” 

He just sends you a timid smile. 

Weirdly enough, it makes your heart twinge. 

“Anyway, are you two gonna work on your project? Sorry for keeping him up, if that’s the case. I’ll be off then.” Hyorin says as she picks up her bag. She looks at Jungkook once again, saying, “I’ll send the link to you later, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook only nods before Hyorin walks out of the lecture hall.

You watch her disappearing back before you turn to Jungkook. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.” 

He shrugs. “We talk sometimes.” 

“Ah.” You nod. 

“Anyway, you got my text, right? Hoseok said it’s too crowded at 556 right now. And my laptop’s dead so I can’t use it either. Left my charger at my place,” he says, starting to put his stuff in his backpack. 

“Yeah, I got it,” you say, stepping out a bit to let him out of his row. You follow beside him when he begins to walk. “Well, where should we do the project?” 

You see Jungkook wince. “I have no choice but do you mind if I just suggest my place? I have a roommate but he’s not around this time. Or we can just call it off for today and resched.” 

You blink at him. “Your place?” 

He arches a brow. “Yeah. Is it okay? Do you have something else in mind?” 

Shaking your head, you look straight ahead. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s just a three minute walk from the campus. Do you mind?” 

“Nope.” 

“Alright, then.” 

——— 

Jungkook thinks you’re strange today. 

You’re usually so full of stories. Never ran out of things to say. His silence never deterred you from sharing something and even though Jungkook would deny it to you and to all his friends – he actually secretly enjoys your blabbering. Finds most of them funny.

But right now, you’re all quiet on your iPad and notes, focused on doing your work. The last thing he’s heard you say something was when you commented earlier, “This is a nice place,” when you stepped inside the threshold of his and Taehyung’s apartment.

No comment about his hair. Or his hoodie. Or the stupid occasional, “You look handsome today.” that makes his heart perform backflips against his ribcage and makes him all nervous that he can’t really look straight into your eyes for the rest of your interaction.

He finds it strange that he finds you strange today. He should be… happy about this right? He always tells his friends that you’re too… loud when they ask why he doesn’t seem to like you. For the record, he does not not like you. Jungkook just thinks you’re too much. 

Or that you make him feel too much it drives him insane.

“Are you alright?” He breaks the ice after a few minutes. He couldn’t help it. This isn’t like you at all. At this point, you should have already told him twenty different stories that includes your breakfast and the bird that keeps knocking on your window every 5am. By this time, you should have already asked him if he likes your outfit or some stupid shit like if he likes your nails. 

For the record, he likes all of them. Your blush pink nails and your pink skirt that stops above your thigh, exposing your smooth thighs that Jungkook always berates himself not to look at. You always wear skirts. He hates them. 

He hates that he doesn't really hate them. At all. 

“Huh?” You turn to look at him, blinking. Meek and pouty and puzzled. You look so cute it confuses the hell out of him. 

“I asked if you’re okay.” Jungkook says, leveling his voice. Lest he gives himself away. What would he give away, though? That he’s weirdly worried about your silence? That he’s starting to think maybe you’re getting fed up with his constant avoidance of you and you’re starting to realize he’s a shit person and he doesn’t deserve any of your time? 

That he’s putting way too much meaning into this? 

And what for? 

“Oh,” you utter. A bit taken aback. You nibble on your bottom lip and Jungkook tries hard not to focus too much on the way your gloss makes them look so plump. You had pretty lips. Jungkook’s not that prideful to admit that. Just to himself, though. “Yeah. I am fine. Why do you ask?” 

He clears his throat. “Nothing.” 

You look at him with furrowed brows but don’t really say anything further. “Okay.” 

When you go back to working in silence simultaneously again, Jungkook finds himself not being able to focus on the words of the journal article he’s reading. There’s a sentence to it he’s been going right over and over again. Everytime he reads it, it’s like the point just crosses right over his head and his efficacy in the language degrades every single time he repeats it internally.

All the while, you’re still quiet. 

And Jungkook’s had enough. 

Why weren't you saying anything? 

“__.” 

“Hm?” When you tilt your head to look at him, Jungkook nearly falls over his bed. You’re across the room on his computer desk while he’s on the mattress. 

God, you are so unbelievably beautiful without trying it makes his head ache. 

“Are you –uh. What’s with you today?” He finally asks. He watches as your face contorts into an expression of confusion once again, which he can’t really blame you for feeling the way. 

“What’s with me today?” 

“You’re just…” he tries to find the right words. “Quiet.” 

You don’t say anything for a while that Jungkook was about to take his words back. 

“Oh… I’m just not feeling well today, I think.” 

His brows furrowed. You looked perfectly fine today. You were your usual sunshine shelf when you stepped in class – all big grins and pretty laugh Seo Jihyun as usual was trying too hard to get your attention beside you all day. 

“Really?” He asks. “Do you need something?” 

It takes you by surprise. But you recover fast. “No, it’s fine.” 

“We don’t have to do this today if you’re feeling under the weather.” 

You laugh. And Jungkook thinks that’s a win. He thought he wasn’t getting any of that for today. 

“It’s fine, thank you, Jeon.”

Jeon?! Jeon, like his surname? 

He chooses to ignore that. But then a few minutes passed and he spoke again. God, he couldn’t stand any of this.

“How’s the bird?” 

“The bird?” You parrot back. 

“The bird at your window.” 

“Oh!” A flash of recognition goes through your face. “That. Well – as usual it knocked on my window again.” you giggle and it’s the first time Jungkook feels a little light ever since you entered his place. 

Good. This is good. 

“I didn’t know you’d remember that.” You say, giving him a small smile. 

Jungkook feels his cheeks burning so he had to look away. “You tell me about it everyday.” 

There’s a pout he can feel you’re sporting when you say, “But I thought you don’t care.” 

Jungkook frowns at that. 

But he realizes… he gets it. He doesn’t exactly show the opposite.

When he looks at you, your eyes are solemn and your downturned lips look so sad that it makes him feel like shit. 

See. This is why he’s always confused when he’s with you. You make him feel so much all at once and he can’t quite put it. 

“You tell me a lot of stuff everyday.” Is what he settles with. 

“Fair.” You say after awhile. “But uhm…” 

“Yes?” Jungkook immediately says, intrigued. You’re about to speak when his phone rings. You both look at the small device lying on his bed. When Jungkook picks it up, the caller ID says Han Hyorin. “Sorry, I’ll just pick this up.” 

Pressing on the green icon, he hears Hyorin’s voice at the end of the line. 

“Hey, Kook,” 

“Hi, Hyorin. What is it?” 

“What was your student email again? I can’t really find it on the roster.”

Jungkook recites it and then that’s the end of the conversation. He finds it strange because she could’ve just texted him but anyway, he turns to you again after the call ends. 

“Who was that?” You ask curiously. 

“Hyorin.” 

You still in your seat. Then nod. 

You don’t say anything again. 

And that stretches into another few minutes that Jungkook is once again confused. When he looks right over to you, you’re all up in your device. 

He stands up from the bed, leaves his laptop on the mattress, and then walks right over to your direction to stand behind the chair you’re seated on. Ducking down a bit, he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re doing. 

“You’re almost done?” 

When you turn back, your faces are so close to each other that his swivel chair creaks a little when you get taken aback. Jungkook steps back. 

“Yeah. I think so. You?” You say, looking up at him. 

Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair, inserting his hand on his pockets as he looks straight ahead on your screen. 

“I’ll finish up later.” 

You nod then turn back to your iPad. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows meet once again and he sighs. 

“__,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you mad at me?” 

You turn to him so quickly. “What?” 

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks because he can’t take any of this anymore. You’re so… distant. And it makes him feel like he’s on edge. “You’ve been so quiet since we got here. I want to apologize if I did something wrong. But even if I didn’t, then I’m still sorry.”

Jungkook watches as your lips part, surprised to hear the words coming out of his mouth. Jungkook’s not the one to shy away from apologies – if he’s done something wrong, then he makes sure to take accountability. 

It’s different when it’s with you, though. He knows he isn’t exactly his nicest and his best to you… but it’s his complicated feelings that get in the way. He doesn’t know how to handle them. He doesn’t know how to handle you. 

“N-no!” You say. “You didn’t do anything.” 

He sends an arched brow your way. 

You shake your head vigorously. “It’s just… uhm… I thought…” 

“You thought…?” 

You look away, and it’s the first time Jungkook sees you seemingly shy. 

“I thought you’d like my company more if I didn’t talk much.” 

Now Jungkook’s just perplexed. 

You. ibble on your bottom lip before you say your next words. “I know you don’t exactly like me that much – that you’re just putting up with me because of this project and all that, but I really like you. Uhm. As a friend. I’d like to be your friend but I’m realizing now that I’m probably just annoying you with all of my blabbering and it’s unfair to you that I just keep on imposing myself on you even though you make it very clear that you’re not keen on befriend—” 

“__?” 

“— hm?” 

“Stop that.” Jungkook says because he can’t bear to hear you say things that aren’t the least bit true at all. “It’s not true.” 

“Which part?” you pout.

Jungkook would like to wipe that off your face with something. Like his lips. And that thought sends him into overdrive. He needs to get a grip of himself, seriously. 

“Everything.” 

What he doesn’t expect is for you to just frown. 

“You’re a liar.” 

“What?” 

You burst. “Well, for one– you always avoid me! You don’t even greet me in the hallways. And even in the same class you don’t smile at me or anything and the only time you ever acknowledge me is when we do this stupid project and okay I get it, you only like bubbly girls when they’re Han Hyorin, but why not me?”

Jungkook, puzzled, asks, “How’d Hyorin get into this?” 

Your shoulders deflate. “I don’t know.” 

“Can you—” Jungkook inhales a sharp breath. He closes his eyes before opening them back again. “Can you listen to me?” 

You plop back down on the chair with an indignant huff. Jungkook lets out a low chuckles but you only glare at him. 

So goddarn cute, he thinks to himself. 

“You’re just… you’re just too much okay?” He sees the way your face falls and he nearly punches himself for how he worded it. “Wait no– that’s not right. I meant, you’re just – you make me feel a lot of things, __.” 

“Things?” 

“Yeah. You confuse me.” 

“Why?” You look so confused it melts Jungkook. 

“I don’t know how to explain it either. Just that… you need to know I don’t not like you. I like your little blabbering. I look forward to your breakfast stories. I like your nails. I like your skirt. And I like your new apple pencil case.” 

Jungkook watches as your face turns soft. And suddenly, you have that million dollar grin again on your face. 

“Really?” 

“Hm.” 

You squeal and the next thing he knows you’re onto him, arms wrapped around his neck, locking him into a hug. 

“We’re friends now?” 

Jungkook takes the opportunity to encircle your waist around his arms, noting the size difference. And how easy it was for him to snuggle his nose subtly into your hair to smell your sweet shampoo and perfume in that position. 

You always smell so good. 

“Friends.” 

Jungkook doesn’t really think he can take both of you as just being friends, though.

[fudgecake-charlie]

"They think I’m the least dangerous person in this car, do they? Well, they’re about to learn very differently."

Decided to redraw a moment from On the Getaway Mile by Odaigahara on AO3/ @droidofmay !

This may have taken a ridiculous amount of hours condensed into a few days and I went through it drawing cars and car interiors, but this was an absolute blast to do :D I hope I've done the fic sort of justice.

Process shots and long comparison rambles under the cut!

Welcome to my secret lair!!

I spent roughly... 18 hours working on this, the majority during this week and over the past three days, so I need to share my toils with people <3

Character/car references and page thumbnails! Featuring an incorrect scene placement and bad camera position. I reread the scene and placed it properly in the actual page. I hate drawing cars!! I was actually the most worried about panel placement when I started this— I was a guy who only did non narrative/illustrative panel pages and layout-less comics, but it wasn't that bad with a script! I could separate beats into panels, note which panels should be emphasised/larger, and assembled that into a page.

If you compare the fic with this comic, you can see how much dialogue I edited and moments I cut out. I couldn't fit it all on without having to draw even more pages, I wish I could though! Poor Mumbo only gets one line here. I'm so sorry my darling man <3 I also gave him a slight cyborg design because his implants are really important for his character and I needed some way to visually show that, even if it's not canon/mentioned.

The colouring method for this was really fun! It's similar to my aggie rainbow painting method but with less steps, hence narrow value range. It looks pretty and gets the vibe across well though.

Rapid fire points!

I was planning to do 3 different fic comics! Not anymore!!!

This is absolutely for the hotguy comic zine applications. <3 "Can I try rizzing you up // PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE" /ref

I drew page 2 first, then 3, then 1. I think you can tell!

Mumbo is sitting on the wrong side and should have his seatbelt on. He's also not carrying the stolen laptop as described.

It's explicitly noted that Mumbo cannot scan Grian like he can with Scar. Whoops!

Transmissions from the Foundation are via Mumbo and Scar's implants, but I couldn't think of a good way to portray that.

Despite guns and weapons being mentioned, I somehow didn't get the opportunity to draw a single one.

I love hand lettering. I also hate it! I will continue to do it.

Here are the no colour pages as a thank you for scrolling <3