#he did not make the best decisions in his life

[whumpster-fire]

Someone in the notes said:

and he makes sure that his (also grumpy) daughter feels safe loved and self assured

Okay, like... I think he gets marginally better in the 11th and 12th movies (which I'm not rewatching to confirm because "The series actually finally addresses the fact that Cera's mom is dead and that his dad rekindling a relationship with someone she doesn't even know is hard" is pretty much the only thing those two films did well and is very much a B-plot that doesn't actually get enough screen time to justify sitting through the rest of those movies) but Topps doesn't do a very good job of this for at least the entire first half of the series.

Original Film: taught his daughter to be racist. Which to be clear was not working nearly as well as he hoped and the whole reason Cera got separated from her herd is because she snuck off to play with Littlefoot in the middle of the night. She got worse after the whole Sharptooth Attack / giant earthquake separating her from her family thing but, like, Cera started imitating her father's racism more after ending up in a very traumatic situation as a result of disobeying her dad's order to not play with Littlefoot.

Second Movie: Cera makes an incredibly stupid and reckless decision that nearly gets the entire gang killed. Cera, later: "I suppose you all got the same lecture I did? Don't hang around with longnecks, beakfaces and spiketails." (everyone else is shocked because their safety lectures did not involve racism). Just to be clear, the gang tried to cross a lake of quicksand over some stepping stones. This was entirely 100% Cera's idea, nobody else wanted to try it, and her friends putting themselves in danger trying to help her literally saved her life. She would have died before any adult could even get to her. Topps proceeded to try to blame this on her friends being bad influences and is racist about it. Anyway Cera then proposes the group run away from home to prove to the adults that they can take care of themselves, which is also a horrible idea but like. Reading between the lines here Cera is acting out because her idiot father is trying to isolate her from her support system.

Third Movie: this is the one where Topps sings a cool song that some people in the notes mentioned. This moment is somewhat undercut by the fact that this happens while he's trying to bully the rest of the Great Valley into accepting an incredibly stupid water rationing plan and attempting to justify it with the "I'm a parent too and I'm just doing what's best for my child and all our children" card. His plan seems to have been to give every species a set time of day when they were allowed to drink. Nobody else expected him to be stupid enough to include the children who are probably like <1% of the adults' body weight in this, but then it turned out he was that stupid. He then tried to isolate Cera from her friends again, and capped it all off by almost getting himself and Cera killed because he started a pissing contest over not wanting to follow a wildfire evacuation plan because Littlefoot's grandparents came up with it.

Fifth Movie: okay so the Great Valley got hit with a massive locust plague and the entire interspecies herd was forced out of it to look for food. The herd discovers a skeleton of a dinosaur of Ducky's species out in the desert. Topps proceeds to say they can't make any deductions about there being no food in the direction the corpse was traveling from because this species are infamously stupid and the dead one probably got lost. In front of several members of said species. He then instigated such a massive fight that the herds decided to re-split up by species although it's not totally clear if everyone was doing this individually or if it was just the Threehorns. In any case the gang actually runs away this time to avoid being split up with the idea that if they all obviously ran off in the same direction their parents will be forced to search for them in the same direction.

Sixth Movie: Cera is stuck babysitting her much younger niece and nephew (she presumably has an adult sibling that we've never seen) and is sick of it. I do not know what any of the adults involved in this was thinking making the kid who is consistently some random location with her friends instead of hanging out anywhere near her herd and also has run away from home like four times by this point responsible for supervising two gremlin toddlers.

Seventh Movie: Topps is finally right about something: not trusting Petrie's sketchy con artist uncle. Nobody in the friend group except Cera trusts his opinion at all because usually when Topps doesn't trust someone it's because he's racist.

He's not, like, abusive and Cera loves him and is trying to have a good relationship with him, but also his daughter is the one kid in the friend group with a kind of messed up home life, and Topps's role in the adult community of the Great Valley is basically "The worst guy on the HOA board."

Cera's dad in the Land Before Time movies is called Daddy Topps

i need to make sure you all know that

[zreamy]

things i know that i can't have (teaser)

jake's life was hard enough before he fell for you—balancing uni, football, and being a good christian son. in some cruel twist of fate, sleeping with you has only made things harder—and, according to sunghoon (and scripture), damned him to hell the first time he thought about it.

genres: college au, (established) fwb to lovers, smut, fluff, angst

teaser warnings: minors dni, smut (yn sends nudes and jake jerks off)..........extremely dramatic (jake is going through it basically)

teaser word count: 1,125 (chose peace)

fic word count: probably around 35k???

post date: apr 3 !!!

message from zo: yeah uh huh zreamy finally finished a jake fic.. yeah uh huh (i say as i'm still writing this fic.. im affirming #lawofassumption ..sigh whatever whatever) the wip page is literally cursed !!! it is it is it is .. anyway.. jake nation will always win accept me please jake nation.......

r/Christianity 

u/footballfan1511 | 2m

How bad is premarital sex, really? (Need quick answers!!!)

I (20M) have been having sex with my friend (20F) for three weeks now. I knew it was wrong, but she’s everything (very hot, totally, completely sexy), so I didn’t care. BUT I just saw this verse (Matthew 5:28-30) and apparently it’s a sin just to THINK about it??? 

The last time we did ‘it’ was this morning before church (sorry), and I was supposed to go over there tonight, but I’ve been freaking out about that verse all day…….. idk what to do but I really like her, so much, and I still want this, with her. Please give me advice .. 

Every Thursday night. Ten p.m. sharp. Almost no exceptions. You call Jake, talking shit for as long as it takes one thing to lead to another. Tonight is an exception—you had friends over, rescheduled for midnight. Jake lies in bed, hair still damp from his post-football training shower, counting each minute as it passes. 23:55. His leg is shaking. 23:56. He sits up straight, jolting as if waking from a nightmare, nerves sharp and restless as his thumbs fly over the keyboard, texting Sunghoon. 

Jake: What about phone sex?

Jake: Like if I don’t think about her while I do it? 

Sunghoon’s groan reaches Jake through the thin walls of their shared flat. Drawn-out and long-suffering. Read receipt. 23:57. Three dots. 

Hoon: I can’t tell you what to think, but if you’re asking me then you probably alr know

Hoon: Also..??? Do you think you can jack your shit on the phone without thinking about her 😭😭😭

Jake snorts despite himself, much too loud for the quiet. Echoing as if even the room disapproves. He closes his eyes, shakes his head. Palm to his cheek. A low smack, half-joking, half-sincere. Guilt snakes around him, a hot, unwelcome coil that won’t ease. Jake gets the sense that the choice ahead — to answer or not to answer — might drastically skew his life one way or another. 

A minute early. 23:59. Your name on his screen. Phone humming in his hold, pulse lashing his throat. On the other end of the line, before he has the chance to weigh his options, you dead the call—making his decision for him. 

Jake’s heart stumbles, clumsy in his chest. He thinks of the verse, sharp and prickly—crown of thorns on heavy head. He has been thinking about it since Saturday morning. Extra training with Team B, avoiding you, six-thirty wake-ups to join Sunghoon at the rink. Ice-cold mornings melting into afternoons. No matter what he tries, it always comes back. Lustful intent, adultery, with her. And despite his best efforts to pray for rapture, Thursday has come, and Jake has lived to see it. 

A minute late. 00:01. Your name on his screen. Hovering thumb. He knows that phone sex and sex-sex aren’t the same thing, Matthew didn’t even have a phone—but if he could’ve, and he could’ve known you, and you wanted him? Jake sighs. He should answer. If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off, and throw it away. The words sink their senile claws into him, holding on for dear, frail life. His phone stills in his palm. 

You don’t call again. You never have. If this phone call is going to happen, it’s up to Jake to make it so. This knowledge and its weight multiply by the second. An itch he doesn’t try to scratch, knowing he won’t be able to reach it. Another agonising nine minutes trudge along. 00:10. His phone buzzes on his chest, and he knows it’s you before he looks. Two texts.

YN: Said you’d stay up for me Yunie :((( 

YN: You don’t think I’m worth the wait?

Reading your messages through the notifications, he’s having a hard time convincing himself not to reply. Not to tell you he waited, that of course, you’re worth it. His guilt loosens, making space for his desire to reassure you—he cannot rule out the possibility that this desire outweighs his guilt. Silence settles in his room, stretched thin and strange around him. He sighs. 

YN: Attachments: 2 images

YN: Wanted to hear your reaction, but you can tell me when you’re up ig.

YN: Night, loser :P 

Butterflies, sudden and bright—teenaged. Foolish. Tucked under the notification, the photos dare him to look. His curiosity clicks it, and the first picture fills the screen, yanking his breath from his lungs. 

Most of your face is cut off, showing only your lips—pouty and glossy and pretty. Pulling at him in a way he’s not quite equipped to name. This would be enough for him, an innocent selfie, you and those pretty eyes, that smile. More than enough—pulse quickening just thinking about it. His gaze lingers on your lips, stuck for a while. Then, unintentionally, his eyes flick lower. Hair fanned over your pillow, breasts peeking out from under black lace. Fuck. A sight he’s seen a million times, but somehow, each time feels like the first. Jake gulps. Holy shit. He ignores the throbbing in his pants, how much tighter they are—he won’t give in. No matter how badly he’s craving it. He’s stronger than that. With his eyes, he traces your lips. Ogles until his screen dims, locking the picture away again.

Picture two. Fuck. You on your stomach, grainy in your webcam. Arched back, black lace panties over your hips. Fuck. The lingerie, the shape of your body.. Seeing you like this, so perfect and all for him—it’s taking every last shred of his self-control not to get in his car and rush over to you. Want, need, tugs at him. A tether he can’t break. His phone locks. 

Enough is enough. He drags his feet all the way back to the shower, oppressive cold water hitting him. Doing absolutely nothing for his revolting need. This isn’t working—not the water, not the attempt at self-control. Not when he’s already hard and aching against his stomach. Soft breasts. Round ass. Wet—his hand moves instinctively, forehead resting on the cool tiles. He closes his eyes, your body clear in the dark. Full lips. Arched back. He’s breathless when he finishes, head bowed as heat coils low in his stomach. The water carries his release away. Nose crinkled as it swirls around the drain, cringing at the sight—guilt, shame curling around him.

Again, he dries off, pulls on clean pyjamas, and drags his feet to bed. On his side, he closes his eyes, your body like a brand behind his eyelids, thoughts filling the quiet in his room. Exhaustion however, is its own kind of mercy, and eventually, pulls him under.

[arciam]

Underrated JayVik moments/lines (15/∞)

"You had a vision?"

This entry is very loosely inspired by a post I saw about how Jayce really ought to be more bewildered by the fact that Viktor just told him he had a vision while tripping balls on his own lung-blood inside the HexGates. /paraphrased

I know on this blog we like to lovingly rip into Jayce for being a serial fumbler at supporting the casual love of his life (or no, I don't really like to do that - I love both my boys and just wish they didn't have to stay miserable until two minutes before annihilation is all), but this made me think of how there is one way in which Jayce is actually much "better" at supporting Viktor than the other way around.

See, Viktor - by virtue of being a person of uncompromising principles - is prone to the pitfall of... not being very generous with regards to other people's perceived failings or weaknesses. Or his own, for that matter.

Jayce isn't exempt from this - furthest thing from it, in fact.

Yes, Viktor does always quickly forgive (and doesn't forget) Jayce's numerous blunders. But that doesn't negate the fact that anytime Jayce ventures outside Viktor's expectations of who he is - or who he could be, ought to be -, the dissatisfaction is immediate, sharp and unfaltering. While Viktor's love for Jayce is unconditional, his approval most certainly isn't.

That's not a bad thing in itself; Viktor is (generally speaking) entitled to his disapproval, and as I said, it is merely the flipside of his strong convictions.

However, compare this to Jayce, who doesn't seem to have any set expectations whatsoever as to who Viktor should be. Or the decisions he should make. Jayce will happily go along with any twist and turn in Viktor's thought processes and actions, not only because they are fascinating to him, but because he trusts and admires Viktor implicitly.

(To my knowledge, the only time Jayce expresses discontentment with an action taken by pre-Herald Viktor is during their argument on the bridge, which is driven by immense worry and fear on Jayce's part, and he also backpedals immediately.)

Here are some examples of Jayce not beating the golden retriever allegations embracing Viktor unconditionally:

You're suggesting we should amplify the power of the thing that blew up half a building yesterday? Let's roll!

You're snapping at me for taking my new job too seriously? Yeah, guess I deserve that...

You had a vision? (While tripping balls on your lung-blood?) Tell me more!

The thing that came to you in said vision is making plants scream now? You're so cool, Vik.

You carved runes in your skin and started experimenting on yourself in ways your mentor said would make everyone hate you? "I did my best using the notes from your leg, recorded everything!"

Those experiments pulverised our only assistant? ...We can fix that.

You're leaving because affection isn't holding us together anymore..? Well, I'll stay and sleep here in case you come back, I guess...

You've lost your mind and got me in the exact position where I already saw my future corpse? Eh - I'll close my eyes and trust that you'll come to your senses in time.

The fact that - for however subject to change most of everything else about Jayce was - the love and acceptance Singed told Viktor he would have to forfeit in order to live never once wavered for even a second... it just kind of gets to me, okay?

Part 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15

← Prev | Next →

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: [MH Wilds Erik x GN Hunter/Reader]

Erik ropes you into assisting him with his research, but there's more to this little project than meets the eye ...

Genres: Romance, fluff, humour.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

The hefty tome slammed down on the surface of the table in front of you, raising a small cloud of dust. Waving it away with one hand, you glanced up at the eager face of Erik, dedicated handler of the Astrum Unit, and offered a nervous smile.

He was wearing that look. A reason to be wary indeed.

"Erik?"

"Listen."

He stepped over the bench you were seated on, straddling it as he flipped through the book. Pale hair fell forward across his brow and he brushed it back impatiently.

"I've been thinking. We've got this handy guidebook that you hunters compile with the research commission, right?"

"Yes?"

"But we can hardly call this a complete guide when it's so lacking."

You shuffled around to face him.

"Lacking in what way?"

"Arthropods. The insect life, specifically. Think about how many hunters may be carted away in the field because they didn't think to collect bitterbug broth, or snatch up a handy vigormantle bug?"

"And what's your solution?"

He waved a hand, cutting decisively through the air.

"We make our own guide."

"We?"

He leaned forward, peering wide-eyed into your face. Long lashes grazed his cheeks, his expression expectant. 

"Of course. Who else would I ask?"

You cleared your throat and nodded.

"Me. Naturally. So ... what kind of information are you after?"

"The kind that lurks close to the earth, or on the trunks of trees. Whenever you see a new form of insect life on your hunts, I'll trouble you to make a small sketch of the creature, along with noting some of its properties. Not that I expect you to gather all of this at once."

He raised his hands in cheerful surrender.

"Only where you're able to. And make sure to note down the location of where you found it."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Is that a good idea?"

"What do you mean?"

"Providing you with the location of ... anything."

Across from you, Alma buried her nose in her own notebook, mouth twitching suspiciously.

Erik seemed confused for a moment before realisation struck home.

"Oh ... oh. You think I'll go running off to find them, with no protection or preparation of any kind?"

He slapped at your shoulder, laughing, and you narrowed your eyes. You tapped a finger on the table.

"At least you're self-aware."

"Oh, come on. Right ... here."

He took your hand between both of his, grasp always surprisingly strong.

"I promise I will not get myself in unnecessary trouble."

"Define 'unnecessary'."

"You don't trust me at all?"

"In the pursuit of arthropods? No. No, Erik, I don't."

And so began the great insect compendium, the fruit borne of both your labour, and Erik's. Through the months that followed, you did your best to follow through on your promise to him, taking time out of each hunt to carefully jot down the insect life you found. 

Granted, you had never been the kind to appreciate such things before. Bugs, as useful as they were, were all too often shunted to the side in a hunter's mind to make way for faster and more effective means to use the environment.

They were useful, no doubt about it, but they were certainly one of the myriad things you took for granted on your many forays into the wilderness in search of much larger (and more dangerous) game.

You started to find ways to make your insect studies more interesting.

Along with the notes, diagrams (and suspicious stains that came with the territory of hunting), your weekly reports to Erik contained little doodles of your palico and amusing anecdotes of how you'd found particular species. They also contained some of your terrible puns, the ones that made Alma look at you with long-suffering pity and Gemma offer to place your head on her anvil to 'knock some proper humour into you.'

You never knew whether he actually read them. The moment you showed up with the report, he'd snatch it from your hands with a hurried 'thanks' and scuttle off to his den to pore over them. The little footnotes to your many-legged adventures may have to remain in your own memory for posterity.

At least your palico laughed at your jokes. Most of the time.

A sad state of affairs, but you'd survived worse.

It was some time before you saw any actual progress on the insect compilation. Erik impressed on you the importance of proper research and hypothesis testing, of statistical analysis and prediction of potential pathways, of peer-reviewed critique on his scientific writings by learned scholars of the research commission, before anything could be ratified as fact.

Sounded like a great deal of work, but you understood the necessity of it.

One wrong point of information, and a hunter could very well find themselves the prey, under certain circumstances. If this work was to be a hunter's resource, it had to be a reliable one.

So it was with a certain degree of anticipation that you entered Erik's research base one afternoon, having been called over by a message through your palico.

Was there finally some kind of solid outcome?

Erik was standing at the table, hands placed flat on its surface, back hunched, eyes trained on the bound collection of pages before him. He glanced up briefly before his face broke into a sunny smile of genuine pleasure.

"Ah, there you are. Come and have a look. We're finally making some headway."

Approaching the table, you saw that the bound pages were covered in his sloping hand-writing, with diagrams obviously fashioned directly from those you'd drawn, smudges of colour added here and there.

"Is it finally ready?"

"I do think so, yes! Of course, a scholar's work is never truly done. We keep etching away at the frontier,  discovering new ideas that may put our previous ones to shame."

He spread his arms wide, as if to encompass the room, your joint research on the table, you.

"But this is a start. And a great one too! Just look at all the data we've managed to compile."

You glanced at the thick sheaf of paper and gave a rueful smile. Now that the majority of the work was in, you doubted that Erik would have much further use for your time or services. You supposed you should be thankful, but you had to admit, on some level, that you liked being useful to him.

You'd long since given up scant hope that Erik would take notice of your charms. You were just so ... different.

He was compelling to you, yes. With the soft fall of his hair, the gleam in his eye when new knowledge was to be gained, the deft fingers with which he pried open the secrets of the world and the rare occasions when he displayed the part of himself that showed exactly why he had been chosen for Astrum unit, the gall, determination and sterling professionalism, it was no wonder that he'd anchored himself so firmly in your admiration.

And you, well, you were a hunter.

In spite of your many accolades, you'd never considered yourself above average when it came to personal charms. You gave yourself to your work, and it defined who you were.

Signing, you placed an elbow on the table, chin cupped in one palm.

"I suppose you never included all of those funny stories I put so much time into."

Erik's reaction was not one you were expecting. His demeanour was suddenly evasive, eyes darting to the old steel cabinet that stood in a corner.

"Ah, well. Hm. Those were entertaining, of course! But in research terms they - "

You mouth curved down at the edges, rather exaggeratedly.

"Ah. And after all that effort."

There was something definitely off about him.

"Erik, what's in that cabinet?"

"Which cabinet?"

"The one you're eyeing like a Gypceros with a shiny trinket."

"What? Nothing at all. Just an experiment I'm running. Needs to be kept closed."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Is there something you - "

"No."

He waved your concerns aside, already bustling about the table where his research notes lay scattered like chaff. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing that you were still unconvinced.

"Oh? You really want to see my Congalala dung anaerobic fermentation experiment? I could open it up for you, but the smell - "

You raised your hands in swift surrender.

"No need. Only the fresh stuff gets a ride in my slinger."

He nodded, looking rather relieved.

"Oh, good. Because it's anaerobic, you know. If I did have to open it up, the whole thing would be ruined and - "

At that moment, Olivia strode into the tent, brisk and confident as always. She gave you a cordial nod of greeting before making her way to the steel cabinet, past Erik, who was suddenly looking a trifle panicked.

"Oh! Olivia, wait, you can't just - "

She shot him a slightly puzzled look.

"I'm just getting my cup. Athos is brewing us some coffee."

"Not now! Just hold on, you - "

Supremely unconcerned, she stared right at him while casually slinging open the door of the cupboard.

"No, I can't wait. My coffee's getting cold."

The door knocked against a nearby shelf, swinging slightly on its hinges. On the inside you could see, pasted in painstakingly careful chronological order, every single humorous note you'd left for Erik since the start of the compilation, complete with palico doodles and scratched out puns.

Squinting, you could even make out the discarded ration wrapper on which you'd once sketched a stick figure illustration of Werner forgetting your name again.

Following the line of Erik's mortified gaze, Olivia raised an eyebrow and grabbed her cup before turning to you, jerking her thumb at the evidence.

"You should probably get him more insect stories. I swear, the way he hordes these things, you'd think they were actually funny."

Having delivered this crushing judgment, she strode back out of the tent, humming slightly.

Her departure left a highly awkward silence in its wake.

You fiddled with the scabbard of your dagger.

"So ... "

"It's not - "

" ..., you really think I'm ... "

" ...at all what it looks like, I - "

" ... funny?"

You both spoke at the same time, but he heard you clearly, coming to an abrupt stop. A faint flush chased over the bridge of his nose. He brushed his hair back and straightened his posture a little.

"Uh ... yes. Yes, I think you're funny."

"Even though nobody else does?"

"Um, well, humour is sort of ... subjective, isn't it?"

"And mine is ... to your taste?"

He scratched his cheek.

"You could say that, yes."

A grin spread across your face and his mouth twitched in response, curving into an irrepressible response.

"Shall we test that hypothesis further, do you think?"

He tapped at the thick stack of papers before taking a bracing breath and meeting your gaze.

"If you're willing, hunter, then I guess ... that science demands more answers."

Tagging a few who might be interested, based on previous notes: @mrs-potatocat @maxdotmp4

[delight-angelsbliss]

ik you did a knuckles hcs alr but if you don't mind revisiting this topic I'd love to see your hc takes on Boom Knuckles x a thick girly... I feel like he'd be rly sweet. Even if he is a bit confused, he'd try his best ;-; i love that beefy bimbo sm

Precis: Boom! Knuckles with a thick female! Reader

Warnings: one mention of starving yourself but it isn't about actually doing it

Notes: Everytime I force myself to write smth through a writer's block and then see no notes, but the one who stole my prompts get more notes than me, an angel loses its wings... Also sorry for the late post and I got a bit off track when writing

Boom! Knuckles is already beefy himself, so he doesn't mind people with a little more meat on their bones. He doesn't see the issue with it at all. Knuckles thinks it's a good thing to be a bit more thick than others, it isn't a problem and shouldn't be seen as one! This meathead (in his words) can also be a feminist who believes in body positivity (unlike Clara dao) so he tries to show you just how beautiful you are in his eyes. Since boom! Knuckles is quite literally the dumbest guy you'll ever meet, he doesn't quite understand the severity and the fact that most insecurities stay as a mental state. When you first explain it (I don't think he'd understand because of how he's portrayed but wtv) he tries to show this better understanding of your predicament he has now, pointing out when you look radiant and/or put together, he loves uplifting you, it's just the kind of person he is

Knuckles knows how judgemental people can get, and he understands how you feel since he also gets many insults his way about how stupid he is. Obviously he'd defend you, you're someone he loves and truly cares for, so it only makes sense for him to defend your peace and dignity. Knuckles would always rant to his friends about how many insults are said to you just existing, he hates seeing you sad, he wants to see you confident, but these people are just wrecking that. Knuckles loves seeing you confident about your body, he also loves the way you look and he thinks you should do the same! Knuckles is a lover boy at heart and that won't ever change

He loves seeing you confident, wearing stuff you like, not letting comments get to you etc. It brings him happiness knowing you're well off with your looks. He thinks it's important to have self confidence and not be afraid of the opinions that other people may have towards you, there will always be people to resent you for no apparent reason and it's ok to care about it to an extent, but that doesn't mean you should let it rule your life like a tyrant. Since boom! Knuckle is more of a meathead, he isn't the best at comforting, but he still tries to! Trying to get advice from friends, searching on the internet, etc. He always wants you to be happy and healthy life.

Knuckles is someone who prioritizes comfort in a relationship, he wants to make sure you're fully comfortable with him. If you seem uncomfortable wearing smth tight around him that show off curves, he won't pressure you to do so, he wants you to trust him fully. I can't stress this enough. Knuckles adores it when he's able to give you compliments or talk about how cute your body rolls are, it's not only a boost to his paranoia about being bad for your confidence, it's a boost for moral and confidence. He doesn't see a reason to buy stuff like fat blocker, cut calories, ⭐ve yourself, etc. You're perfect as you are to him and you shouldn't harm your body over anything. Knuckles will always support and love you through out any decision you have

[momentomori24]

If the P: EG universe had an Afterlife Theater and Wolfgang got to watch everything that had happened after his death, from the discovery of his body to Diana’s speech after the trial, how do you think he would have reacted to it all?

Horrified, to put it lightly. Like, very lightly.

First off, the state of Wolfgang's body is nothing like how he presented himself as at. Wolfgang has always made an effort to appear elegant, professional, soft and composed, from the way he dressed to the way he conducted himself. But after his death, he's left completely unrecognisable. His tears and drool leak on to the concrete floor where he lies in an almost compromising position, expression permanently twisted in terror. His clothes are drenched and wrinkled and his hair is completely disheveled-- he would be absolutely appalled at the sight of himself, because it's everything he didn't want to be. It's everything he wouldn't have wanted his last impression on his friends to be.

To add insult to lethal injury, it'd be the most horrific evidence of the cruelty his classmates are capable of. Wolfgang spent the whole game believing in them, encouraging them, making the decision to trust them despite being scared of as much as everyone else. Even though he was nervous about someone abusing the drugs at the pharmacy, he still decided to trust the group. Even though he took the knife, he still went to the boiler room to try and meet with whoever sent him the note. But seeing his body, and the sheer brutality inflicted on it, would probably crush whatever hope he clung to that no one here would kill to escape. And I feel like the reveal of Eva being the culprit wouldn't bring him much relief either. Because her murder completely proved him right about her being dangerous and not having their best interest in mind, sure, but at what cost? What good would that do him now? Grace wanted her dead the most for what she'd done, yet even she was stunned to horrified silence after witnessing Eva's execution and I don't think Wolfgang would react any better. Because Eva was selfish, and she was egotistical, and too caught up in her own victim/superiority complex to see the error of her (and Damon's) ways and ended his life in such a cruel way as a consequence, but she was also a teenage girl who felt isolated and afraid and helpless and whose vulnerability was targeted by Tozu. I think listening to her excuses, however unjustifiable and clearly warped, wouldn't make him feel less mortified about her tragic end.

And Diana's speech-- that one is conflicting. Cuz I feel like hearing her still talk so fondly of him, of his kindness and the way he cared for them even after he attacked her would touch his heart a lot. He died thinking he was a failure, likely would still think he is a failure, and probably believes his actions and death would tarnish whatever respectable image of him they had, so hearing that from Diana could give him some semblance of comfort. On the other hand, I can also see him not agreeing with her speech because of that self-loathing. That he doesn't deserve for her to still speak of him so fondly after what he did to her, no matter how unintentional it was. Her declaration to follow in his footsteps, despite the way that ended for him, probably wouldn't make him feel great either (especially considering Diana's a lot more naive and trusting than Wolfgang was and therefore more vulnerable). And I think the miserable silence that followed afterwards and everyone's blatant lack of hope after the trial would be his first warning of the bloodshed that's inevitable now, and the fact that he's completely powerless to stop it.

Then there's Damon's speech about him. This one's interesting cuz I don't know whether or not Wolfgang would call bullshit on it. Cuz Damon was absolutely NOT being entirely genuine, and I think Wolfgang could absolutely recognise that. There's also the fact that Damon lied to his face and hid his blackmail from him, the only reason he even went down to the boiler room. Damon claims he wouldn't harm Wolfgang, but he contributed pretty heavily to the circumstances that got him killed. However, Wolfgang's a pretty empathetic guy, and despite him not having a great opinion on Damon he's still willing to banter and tease and engage with him in a friendly and patient manner during his FTEs. He's willing put their differences and Damon's more asshole-ish behaviour aside to treat him like a fellow classmate and friend when he sees that Damon is trying. So while I think his feelings on Damon would still be sorta complicated, I feel like he would still try to be appreciative and accepting of the way Damon tries to steer everyone in the right direction and the way he offers respect to his memory, even going as far as to praise him despite it definitely bruising his ego XD

I feel like something he would feel utterly guilty about is Grace. He told her that they'd go to the tournament together but ended up making up an excuse not to go, and now he never can again. She trusted him-- she trusted him the most-- and he lied to her, and now he'll never be able to explain to her why. We see the way his death impacted her, the way it deeply hurt her because of how much she cared about him, and that hurt is something he'd feel responsible for. Her grief over him are proof of the fact that Grace is clearly capable of trust and vulnerability and affection, that whatever he saw in her during their time together was genuine and that she's is just as affected as everyone else by the killing game, but seeing the way she was struggling and the vulnerable position she's left in by the end it'd be easier if she didn't care at all. She's heartbroken and grieving, and he can't even offer her comfort or reassure her that it'll be okay. I can imagine him being really distraught and muttering quiet apologies and explanations to her in that empty theatre knowing they'd never reach her.

[honeyjars-sims]

Part 2 1.08 Meddling

10 Years Ago

The next morning, I was feeling kinda guilty about the discussion Paul had with Danica. I hadn't talked to him about it yet, but I hoped my interference hadn't affected their friendship.

Once I heard him stirring in his room, I decided to ask him about it.

"Hey, you're up early," Paul said. He was right; it was quite unusual for me to be awake before him, but I couldn't sleep much.

"Yeah, maybe you're rubbing off of me." Typical of me to break the tension with a joke.

"Maybe my cleanliness will rub off on you, too," Paul teased.

"Doubtful. Trust me, my parents already tried that. You'd better get used to me leaving dishes in the sink."

As lighthearted as our conversation was, we both knew we were avoiding the elephant in the room. I decided it was best to just address it.

"So, I take it you overheard my conversation with Danica," I said.

"I heard some of it," Paul admitted. "Mostly you telling her to let me live my life."

"Yeah, I guess I'm not really that much better when it comes to meddling in your business."

"No," Paul replied firmly. "You didn't say anything I didn't already know. My conversation with Danica was a long time coming. You might've given me the push, but it was bound to happen eventually."

"I'm glad to hear that. How did it go?"

"It was awkward at first, but I told her things had to change if we're going to continue our friendship. She has to trust me to make my own decisions."

"That sounds fair. How'd she take it?"

"She seemed genuinely remorseful. She acknowledged she has some anxiety issues she needs to address. I told her I need some space for a while, and she agreed to that."

"Sounds like it went as well as it could have."

"Yeah, hopefully she sticks with our agreement. I'd hate to end our friendship after all these years, but I'm prepared to maintain my boundaries."

"Wow, look at you being all mature," I smirk.

"Well, one of has to be! And I don't think it's going to be you."

"I'd argue with that, but you're right."

I walked away from the conversation feeling pretty good about everything.

What I didn't realize was Paul was trying to get over me, and hearing me defend him against Danica didn't exactly help him move on.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[haeiheart]

LEE DONGHYUCK | NOT A BIG DEAL

LEE DONGHYUCK

SUMMARY: You and Hyuck have always been inseparable. Best friends who stick together through every minor inconvenience, every 2 AM fast-food run, and especially every party. Their little deal? If they’re both single and drunk at a party, they make out for a good time and purely to avoid awkward hookups with strangers. No feelings, no complications. It’s a good deal no? But when a new guy, Jeno, enters y/n life just like that. They both feel that for the first time, their “not a big deal” deal feels like it might’ve always been something bigger.

GENRE: friends to lovers - kind of fwb hyuckyn - jealous avoidant hyuck! - sweet jeno - minimal angst - slight reader x jeno.

NOTES: first time releasing a full written fic… bye im scared pls be kind (◞‸◟；) also first time making a header? design?? hehehehe. I hope you guys enjoy this though, i personally enjoyed written it so i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed making it for you guys!! :3 THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD SO IM SORRY IF THERES ANY ERRORS >_<

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

BEFORE THE PARTY

You and Hyuck have always been inseparable. The best of friends. The kind who finish each other’s sentences, send texts at the exact same time, and know each other’s go-to orders at every café on campus. It’s always been easy with hyuck. You don’t overthink things with him.

That’s why your little pact made perfect sense.

“If we’re both single, and we’re both at a party, and we’re both drunk, we find each other.”

It wasn’t some deep, life changing agreement. It was just a way to keep each other from making bad decisions with strangers. A safety net, nothing more. It always worked. Every single time. It was the perfect deal after all, you both get the pleasure needed in a fun night out. No commitment, no feelings.

Until tonight. But let’s rewind back a couple of weeks.

The day you met Lee Jeno.

3 WEEKS AGO @NCU CAMPUS

College life has always been a blur of assignments, late-night food runs, and whatever chaos Hyuck drags you into. Between classes and parties, your days feel like a well-balanced mix of stress and fun. Thank goodness you had your best friend to keep you sane right?

You first met Jeno during an elective course, one of those random classes you picked to fill credits unfortunately. He was the kind of guy who didn’t talk much but somehow made every conversation feel important. You sat next to him out of convenience, and it wasn’t until the next few classes that you really spoke to him, which was currently right now.

“Do you always write your notes like that?” he had asked, glancing at your mess of shorthand scribbles and little doodles in the margins. You could tell he wanted to laugh at it.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah?”

He grinned. “It’s interesting. You do know this is a literature class, right? Because your notes look more like a doodle coloring book for toddlers my baby brother's age rather than actual notes.”

You snorted. “Well, you look like you should be in an engineering class, not here.”

“I was forced to take a humanities elective,” he admitted. “But it’s not bad. I like the class.”

“Because of the material or because of me?” you teased, raising a brow.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

And just like that, Jeno slipped into your life.

The thing about him was that he never tried too hard, he didn’t force his presence, didn’t demand attention the way Hyuck did. He was just… there. Reliable. Easy to talk to. It was easy to get hooked on a guy like Jeno.

You started walking out of class together, grabbing coffee before your next lectures. You studied together, shared snacks, exchanged casual texts that eventually turned into daily check-ins. Somewhere along the way, you got comfortable with him. But it wasn’t until one particular afternoon that you noticed something else.

OPEN FIELD STUDY AREA @NCU CAMPUS

It was another dreadful afternoon, pilled with assignments you swore just appeared in front of your face. You and Jeno were sitting outside on campus, reviewing notes. Though half the time you guys were mostly making corny jokes and laughing at shared interests. That was until Hyuck showed up unannounced, like he always did, dropping himself onto the bench next to you with a dramatic sigh.

“What’s up, losers?” he greeted, snatching one of your fries before you could react, looking as happy as always to mess with your little head.

You rolled your eyes as a faint smile appears on your face. It’s been awhile since you saw him. “Hyuck, this is a study session. You know, where people focus?”

“Sounds lame,” he deadpanned, then turned to Jeno. “So, how do you put up with this one?”

Jeno smirked. “I think she puts up with me.”

Hyuck’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the slight pause—the way his fingers drummed against his knee a little too fast, the way his jaw tightened for just a second. It was so quick that you almost missed it. Almost.

But then, as fast as it came, it was gone. Hyuck smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “Well, good luck, man. She’s a handful.” You smacked his arm, rolling your eyes again, but the feeling lingered. Hyuck only stuck around for a short while and you never questioned it, but the odd part was he was too quick to leave the setting as well. Feeling lost as he suddenly got up and fled the scene after saying his byes and ruffling your hair.

After that, things felt… different. Not drastically. Not in a way you could point to and say, this is where everything changed. But the subtle things. Like how Hyuck stopped crashing your study sessions with Jeno as often. How he’d make jokes about you “ditching” him but never say it outright. How he seemed to drink more at parties, getting reckless in a way that made you worry.

It wasn’t obvious, but it was there, buried beneath layers of laughter and banter. And maybe you noticed it too late.

@NEOCAFE - 127 DISTRICT

Hyuck doesn’t text first anymore.

That’s the first thing you notice.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, you’ve been busy anyway. School, assignments, late-night study sessions with Jeno. But the silence sits in your chest like a weight, pressing down heavier each day. You truly did miss your best friend, nobody else was as much of a dork loser like he was.

You still see him around. In class, at parties, in the spaces you used to share. But it’s different now.

No more texts that say where are you? when you take too long to respond. No more arms slung over your shoulder as he drags you out of the library for a “much-needed” break. No more late-night walks, just because neither of you wanted to go home yet. God you truly did miss lee donghyuck.

The worst part? You know it’s your fault. You were the one who stopped looking for him first. You were the one who let the space between you grow. And now, you don’t know how to close it.

Jeno Notices “You’ve been quiet lately.” Jeno’s voice is gentle, his eyes scanning your face as you stare blankly at your untouched coffee. It’s the third time he’s caught you zoning out in the past hour and he was getting worried.

You blink, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

He doesn’t buy it. You can tell by the way he tilts his head, studying you. “It’s about Hyuck, isn’t it?” The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. You exhale, looking away. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything right away. He just nods, as if he already knew. And maybe he did. Maybe everyone did. You’ve spent so much time pretending things are fine that you almost forgot Jeno sees right through you.

So when he reaches out, fingers brushing over yours, you don’t pull away. Infact you allow yourself to get embraced by his comfort. Was Jeno’s comfort what you needed all this time?

@YOUR APARTMENT

The thing about Jeno is that he never rushes anything.

Not his words, not his movements, nothing. He lets things happen as they are, as if he trusts time to work things out on its own. Which is probably why being around him feels so easy, you always had a smile on your face when you were with him.

Like now, for example. You’re both sitting on the floor of your dorm, backs against the couch, a half-empty bag of chips between you. You’ve been talking for what feels like hours—about everything and nothing all at once.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jeno says, holding up a hand to stop you mid-story, his eyes already crinkling in amusement. “You mean to tell me you climbed a tree to save a cat, but then got stuck yourself?”

You groan, covering your face. “Okay, listen—”

“No, no, no, I need to process this.” He grins, resting his chin on his palm. “How long were you up there?”

“Like… twenty minutes?” you mumble, cheeks burning from embarrassment clearly…

Jeno loses it. He tilts his head back, laughing so hard his shoulders shake. You gotta admit that laugh of his does wonders to girls. He was a real catch. A once in a lifetime cutie, you should consider yourself lucky to have him around right?

You huff, crossing your arms. “Are you done?”

He wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “Oh man. I- yeah. Yeah, I think I’m good.” He snickers again. “Twenty minutes. Amazing.”

You try to glare at him, but his laugh is infectious, and soon enough, you’re giggling too.

Jeno turns to look at you, a soft smile lingering on his lips. “Y’know, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk about yourself.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“I mean, you’re always talking about Hyuck or your friends, but I like hearing about you.” He leans against the couch, watching you. “Your dumb little childhood stories. Your love for cats. Your terrible decision-making skills.”

You snort, nudging his leg with your foot. “You’re such a menace.”

“And you love it.”

You shake your head, smiling. “I might.”

Jeno tilts his head, studying you for a second. His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Are you okay?”

The question catches you off guard. You consider lying, but Jeno has always been good at seeing through people. So you exhale, looking down at your hands.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I just feel… lost.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything right away. He just shifts a little closer, his knee bumping against yours. You don’t realize how much you needed that until it happens.

“I get that,” he finally says. “Sometimes it feels like you’re walking through fog, and you don’t know where you’re going. But…” He nudges you lightly. “That doesn’t mean you’re alone.”

You look up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, warm and genuine. “I’m here.” You don’t know what possesses you to do it—maybe it’s the way his voice is so steady, so sure. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re important. But before you can overthink it, you lean in.

Jeno’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his lips quirk up in amusement.

“You’re not about to kiss me mid-existential crisis, are you?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “Shut up.”

But he’s still grinning when he finally closes the distance. The kiss is soft, almost hesitant at first. But then you feel him smile against your lips, and suddenly, it’s all laughter and warmth and the taste of leftover chips.

You break apart for air, and Jeno chuckles. “That was—”

You groan, covering your face. “Don’t say it.”

“— surprisingly nice for two people who just ate sour cream and onion chips.”

You swat at him, laughing. “You ruined it.”

He catches your wrist, grinning. “Nah. That made it better.”

You shake your head, still breathless, still here. Jeno doesn’t fail to make your day once again, as he leans in, continuing where you both had left off as if it was almost natural.

And for the first time in a while, you don’t feel so lost.

PRESENT TIME

And this is how your weeks have been spent. With Lee Jeno. Full of kisses, laughter, playfulness, and comfort. Jeno arrives with an armful of snacks, two sodas balanced precariously on top. “Alright, before we do anything, I have to ask…why do you have like, seven different cat towers in your apartment? Are they that spoiled?” as he takes in his surroundings once again.

You shut the door behind him and scoff. “Excuse you, my children deserve the best.”

Jeno grins, setting the snacks down. “How many do you have again?”

“Three.” You sigh dramatically. “But honestly, I think my oldest cat hates me.”

He snorts. “Why?”

“Because I accidentally stepped on her tail when she was a kitten, and she’s never forgiven me.” You flop onto the couch, pouting. “Now every time I call her, she looks at me like I owe her child support.” Jeno bursts out laughing, nearly knocking over the bag of chips. “That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”

You nudge him with your foot. “Oh, shut up. You’ve definitely done worse.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Doubt it.”

“Oh really? What’s the dumbest injury you’ve ever had?”

He thinks for a moment before admitting, “I once tried to jump over my couch but tripped, hit my head on the armrest, and passed out.”

You gasp. “Wait—like, fully unconscious?”

“Yup.” He sighs. “Woke up two minutes later to my mom yelling at me for being stupid.”

You’re already laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “Okay, okay, once, when I was seven, I thought I could ride my bike down the biggest hill in my neighborhood with my eyes closed.”

Jeno’s eyes widen. “No. No.”

“Yes,” you wheeze. “Flew straight into a bush. My mom had to pull twigs out of my hair for an hour.”

He practically collapses against the couch, laughing until his shoulders shake. “You’re actually crazy as a kid.”

“Thank you,” you say proudly.

The laughter fades into a comfortable silence. Jeno leans back, staring at the ceiling. “You know, I never really asked—but what was Hyuck like when you were kids?”

You hesitate, but the memories come easily. “Chaotic. Loud. Got us into trouble, like, every other day. He would drag me into the most ridiculous situations and it wasn’t even my fault.”

Jeno smirks. “Sounds about right.”

You smile softly. “One time, we thought we could build a pillow fort. We barely even got the first pillow up before the entire thing collapsed and we both fell.”

He laughs. “Did you get hurt?”

“Surprisingly, no. But Hyuck cried for a full hour because he swore it was sabotage.”

Jeno shakes his head, amused. “He hasn’t changed at all, has he?”

“Nope.” You pick at a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s always been… Hyuck.”

There’s a pause, but Jeno doesn’t push. He just watches you, waiting.

You clear your throat. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

He hums, tapping his chin. “Alright. You know how everyone thinks I’m all sporty and serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Well.” He leans in like he’s about to share a top-secret confession. “I used to write fanfiction.”

You choke on your drink. “No way.”

“Oh, it gets worse.” He sighs dramatically. “It was about superheroes.”

“What kind? Marvel? DC?”

“Neither. Completely original characters. I had a whole series.”

You clutch your stomach from laughing so hard. “Jeno. Are you telling me you were a self-insert superhero fanfic writer?”

He groans, covering his face. “Look, I was twelve—”

“NO, THIS IS AMAZING.” You grab his arm. “Did you give yourself powers? A tragic backstory?”

He peeks at you between his fingers. “…Both.”

You collapse into the couch, wheezing. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever learned about you.”

He grins. “Alright, your turn. What’s your cringiest secret?”

You pause, then admit, “Okay this might not be cringy… but i had a harry potter phase.”

Jeno gasps, clutching his chest. “What house were you in?”

“…Slytherin.”

He high-fives you. “Respect.”

The conversation keeps flowing, lighthearted and easy. You talk about everything, old childhood memories, embarrassing moments, ridiculous hypothetical scenarios (what would you do if you woke up as a worm?), and somehow, even the meaning of life.

It’s fun. It’s comfortable.

But beneath it all, there’s something bittersweet.

Because you both know this is goodbye.

Eventually, the night slows down. The laughter fades, leaving only the quiet hum of the TV in the background. You shift, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “Jeno…”

He already knows. You can see it in his expression.

Still, he lets you say it.

“I have to go find him,” you admit softly.

A beat of silence.

Then he smiles? He smiles. A small, knowing smile. “Yeah.”

You swallow hard. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” His voice is gentle. “You never had to say it, y/n. I knew.”

Your throat tightens. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He reaches for your hand, squeezing it lightly. “But… can I ask for one last thing?”

You nod, already knowing what it is.

“One last kiss,” he murmurs.

So you kiss him.

It’s soft, lingering. A silent thank you. A quiet goodbye.

When you pull away, he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well. That was a solid 9/10.”

You snort. “Only 9?”

“Could’ve been a 10, but my foot fell asleep.”

You smack his arm, laughing. “Shut up.”

He grins. “Go. Before I change my mind and challenge Hyuck to a duel.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re already reaching for your shoes.

And as you step out the door, heart racing, you realize—

This time, you’re going to run toward Hyuck.

Because he’s always been the one and it’s about time you told him.

@HYUCKS HOUSE

You don’t know why you’re nervous.

Actually, scratch that—you do know why.

Because this is Hyuck.

Because it’s been weeks. Because you let the distance grow, and now you’re about to do the most humiliating thing possible: show up at his door in the middle of the night, probably looking like a disaster, and pour your heart out.

Great plan. Really solid. No notes.

Still, you knock.

And the second the door swings open, all your thoughts evaporate.

Hyuck stands there, hoodie slightly rumpled, his hair sticking up like he was asleep before you interrupted. His face is groggy, blinking at you like he’s trying to make sure you’re real.

“…y/n?”

You open your mouth.

And immediately start crying.

Like, full-on tears. Embarrassing.

Hyuck panics. “Wait, huh, are you okay??”

You sniff, waving your hands wildly. “I— hiccup— I don’t know why I’m crying!”

His hands move without hesitation, reaching for your arms, steadying you. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” His grip is warm, grounding. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head rapidly, but the tears won’t stop. God you really missed him.

Hyuck makes a helpless noise before sighing and tugging you against him. His arms wrap around you, firm but careful, like he’s worried you might break.

You bury your face in his hoodie, gripping the fabric tightly.

Hyuck rubs your back in slow circles. “Okay. Just—breathe, yeah?”

You sniffle, nodding against his chest. His warmth seeps into your skin, comforting in a way nothing else has been these past few weeks.

And then, before he can say anything else, the words just spill out.

“I just— Hyuck, I missed you.”

His hold on you tightens for a second before he pulls back slightly, just enough to see your face. His brows furrow, but he stays quiet, letting you talk.

“You’re— you’re so important to me, okay? And I hate that I let us drift apart. And I hate that I didn’t realize sooner that you are—” You hiccup again, rubbing at your face. “I don’t even know what I’m saying, I just miss you so much, and everything sucks without you, and I—”

Hyuck suddenly squints at you. “…Are you drunk?”

You freeze. “What?”

“You’re being so dramatic right now.” His lips twitch like he’s holding back laughter. “You have to be drunk.”

You gape at him. “I am not drunk, you absolute—”

“I dunno…” He crosses his arms, pretending to analyze you as he leans closer to your face. “Messy hair, teary eyes, emotional confessions in the dead of night… this is very intoxicated behavior.”

You groan, shoving at his shoulder. “I swear I’m sober—”

“Alright, c’mon, Crybaby.” He snickers, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. “At least cry in my room instead of my doorstep.”

You let him drag you in, still sniffling as he kicks the door shut behind you.

And just like that, you’re home.

Hyuck flops onto his bed, patting the space next to him. “C’mere, you baby.” You roll your eyes but sit down anyway, pulling your knees to your chest.

Silence settles between you. Not awkward, not tense. Just… there.

Hyuck sighs, tilting his head toward you. “You really missed me that much?”

You swallow, nodding. “Yeah.”

He watches you for a moment, then scoffs lightly. “Idiot. I was always here, y’know.”

Your heart clenches. “I know. I was just—”

“Being dumb?”

You groan. “Yes, okay! I was being dumb.”

Hyuck smirks, but it softens as he nudges your knee with his. “It sucked without you, too.”

Your breath catches. “Yeah?”

“Obviously.” He huffs, looking away like admitting it pains him. “Who else was gonna make me leave my apartment and go on stupid 2AM snack runs?”

You let out a small laugh. “You love those snack runs.”

“Yeah, but I love them with you.”

You freeze.

Hyuck doesn’t seem to notice what he just said, or maybe he does, because he clears his throat quickly and sits up straighter. “Anyway. What was up with that dramatic monologue outside? You really that miserable without me?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Yeah.”

He blinks.

You sigh, rubbing your arms. “Hyuck, you’re— you’re my person.” You glance at him, eyes searching. “You always have been.” You meant it.

Something shifts in his expression.

For the first time all night, he’s quiet.

Your heart pounds. “I—”

“Wait.” He suddenly lifts a hand, stopping you. Then, deadpan— “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

You groan, shoving his face away. “Hyuck!”

He bursts into laughter, eyes crinkling at the corners.

And even though you’re this close to smacking him, you realize—

This is why you came back.

Because no one makes your heart race and your soul feel alive like Lee Donghyuck. You don’t even realize how close you’ve gotten until his laughter fades, leaving only the soft hum of the night around you. His gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes.

A beat of silence.

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he leans in.

And you meet him halfway.

The kiss is warm, slow— like a quiet understanding. Like something that had always been there, waiting to be noticed. It wasn’t like all the other kisses, the party hookups. This was real.

His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss just a little, enough to make your breath hitch.

When you finally pull away, he exhales, pressing his forehead against yours.

“…Yup.” He grins. “You definitely weren’t supposed to kiss me like that if you were drunk.”

You laugh softly, still slightly breathless. “Shut up.”

He hums, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Not a chance.”

And this time, when he kisses you again, neither of you stop to think.

Because for once, nothing else matters.

NOTES: I wouldve wrote longer but my brain fogged oops but i hope you guys enjoyed!!

[artist-issues]

Man... just saw your "Captain America: Brave New World" post, and I gotta say I'm definitely disappointed. Unlike many, I actually liked FaTWS, and was hopefully for what they'd do with Sam as Cap. I'll probably still see the movie because I like the character and want to see if for myself, but I'll definitely be tempering my expectations....

I like FaTWS too! I didn’t find it… “disappointing” so much, maybe because I couldn’t help but feel less invested than I did with Steve. Sam just has not been built up and written with the same level of confidence and care that the writers had with Steve.

The first half of the time (Winter Soldier through Infinity War) they were just writing him as Steve Rogers, if you lifted the burden of “symbol” and “man out of time” off of him. Think about it. Sam’s whole tagline was “I do what he does, just slower.” And he’s okay with that.

When we meet Sam, he’s living a normal life despite the fact that he used to be in the “superhero” category. But he’s not in that category anymore, his wings are retired, so we find him still doing good on a more mundane, normal-person level. He counsels vets. Which is a foil to Cap’s baggage. Sam is Steve, freed. Sam is the good guy with the ability to help everybody, who does his job and has everyone’s back…but then he feels the freedom to go home at the end of the day and do good as a normal guy, too. Steve doesn’t have that. Steve can’t have that, until he learns his lesson at the end of Endgame.

In fact, Sam is so free from being The Symbol of Hope when Cap is around that he doesn’t feel bad being antagonistic toward enemies, or being a little petty with friends in moments of high tension. He does have the seeds of “I’ll see good in everybody,” too: he gives Iron Man a chance to help Steve, and he works with Bucky when Bucky’s still freshly brainwashed even if he’s a little snippy about it.

But the thing is, if you have Sam strive to “live up to” Steve, you kind of undermine his relationship with Steve. He’s no Bucky, but he did know Steve. After Winter Soldier, the audience gets to see that Steve trusted Sam before he trusted anybody else. Steve did not have Natasha out looking for Bucky while the Avengers trained. He had one guy doing that: Sam Wilson. Because he was close with Sam, and trusted him. Heck, their first conversation was written around a moment where Steve was just treating Sam like any citizen, politely leaving after their run, until Sam proved he could talk to Steve like a normal, relatable human. “It’s your bed, isn’t it? Too soft?” They could connect.

Sam is also the only one Steve had conversations with about normal, deep issues. “You can do whatever you wanna do. What is it that makes you happy?” Steve isn’t shown having those conversations with Bucky. He briefly starts that conversation with Natasha in Endgame. But the point is that it’s Sam who’s his second best-friend, and their relationship is based on trust, mutual respect, and understanding.

So having Sam suddenly see Steve as a hero-figure to idolize and emulate and compare himself to puts distance between Sam and Steve. Makes them more like fan-and-hero than brothers-in-arms and honest plain friends. Sam didn’t think everything Steve did was perfect or awesome. He was on his side, but he clearly had doubts about the value in trusting or trying to save Bucky, which Steve was committed to doing. So this thing they have Sam doing (and even Bucky doing in FATWS) where he compares himself to this idea of Steve the Perfect Captain America was not a great move, to start out with.

But they made that decision, so let’s talk about how poorly the follow-up was handled. When you take Sam and give him the shield, he can only worry about living up to the symbol for so long. Eventually he has to become our new symbol.

I mean, this is the first example we have of this in the MCU, right? This is the first “one hero audiences love goes away and we have to accept that he passed the mantle down to a different hero.” So they really needed to stick this landing.

Captain America, very specifically, is supposed to be the selfless one. All heroes are selfless on some level, otherwise they wouldn’t be heroes, but the whole tension of superheroes is “I’ve been given incredible responsibility, so what do I do with it?” Iron Man makes it about himself, covering up past wrongs. Spider-Man, too, on a more empathetic level, because of Uncle Ben (in this universe, Aunt May.) There’s a little ego always fighting to break in and ruin selfless assumption of responsibility.

But not with Cap. The Captain America Symbol is supposed to be just that. The guy behind the shield disappears into the symbol—which is, selflessness.

If you have Sam make everything about “I gotta prove myself” and “am I ever enough” then the symbol becomes about him. So it’s ruined. We need him to not care about “living up to” anything. We need him to eventually get over that.

But they like…can’t drop that victim mentality bone they have him gnawing on.

And it just wasn’t one that Sam had before picking up the shield, which is what made him so endearing, and such a good choice, in theory, for Cap, in the first place.

[somegrumpynerd]

Actually it turns out I had more thoughts about that post that I forgot about lol

Would Nightmare actually give up his boys? Yes and no

If it was just a black and white situation of they're miserable, they don't wanna be here, they have somewhere better to be, then yes. He would leave them out to wherever they needed to be despite his own feelings and very quickly realise afterwards just how much he'd gotten used to the noise and company. I think he would get a little clingy with Dream about it, which I'm sure Dream would find very weird after everything but not unwelcome, he did miss his brother after all.

(If he couldn't attach himself to Dream's side for whatever reason, I think he might just sit in his castle and go insane. Or maybe he'd just spend all day at Ccino's trying really hard to project that he just likes the atmosphere and isn't lonely as hell)

But the thing is, most of them don't have somewhere better to be. Horror has his au, and Nightmare would keep up the supply of food even if Horror said he wanted to quit at this point, so he would understandably let him return home. Killer, Dust and Cross effectively don't have aus anymore though, and they tend to get into self-destructive habits when they're left to their own devices. (Obviously bringing Color and Epic into the mix to make sure Killer and Cross are taken care of eases matters, but Dust doesn't really have any friends outside their group he could go stay with - that Nightmare knows about at least).

The flipside of this is that his boys may not necessarily want to be given up. I think if Nightmare got really in his head about this he could easily end up convinced this is the right thing to do without ever asking them if it's what they want, with potentially terrible results. He's established such a pattern of always returning to find Killer when they get seperated, that if he never showed up Killer might just keep sitting there and waiting for him greyfriar's bobby style, refusing to leave because he's certain his boss is coming back.

[nicorobinphd]

stg, being an enjoyer of jane twdg is like being forced into an expert-level course on the way misogyny manifests in video game spaces.

god forbid a woman be complex or difficult or provably mischaracterized (see tags) at the end of her arc to service the culmination of a man’s storyline.

[add1ctedt0you]

[rustedleopard]

So you guys remember how after Hinawa was announced as dead, Flint was immediately tossed into jail after he (very understandably) lashes out in his grief. And then by the time he breaks out of jail (not released by a fellow Tazmillian, breaks out with a nail file), the service is already over and she's buried six feet under the dirt with no proper goodbye from her husband or even a glimpse at her or anything???

That was fucked up

[getvalentined]

Thinking about Angeal in DFFOO apparently throwing himself in front of a sword to protect Sephiroth, even knowing that he's unrepentantly evil at that point and has no goal except to hurt people and fuck with Cloud, because he just cares about him so much—

But in CC, Angeal is only upset about Genesis' alleged death because he didn't manage to kill him before Zack did. Even though he's completely aware that Genesis is doing all this in an attempt to either 1. not literally rot to death, or 2. take the company down with him in recompense for ruining all their lives from conception.

The only point that he gets genuinely upset after Genesis "dies" is when Hollander calls Gillian by name. That is more upsetting to him than the death of someone who he's known basically since birth. The only issue with his oldest childhood friend being dead is that Angeal didn't get to kill him.

But Sephiroth, openly malicious, violent, abusive—he is worth defending. He's worth protecting. He deserves every possible chance to prove that he's better than he was made, even when he's stated outright that he made his choice and doesn't intend to change.

Absolutely mindboggling that so few people seem to realize the extreme difference in how he feels about them, even when it's on full display.

(Also, I feel like it's more proof for my theory that Angeal is in love with Sephiroth too and the reason he treated Genesis the way he did is because if he wasn't good enough, then Genesis certainly wasn't, and couldn't be allowed to think otherwise. I don't think this was intentionally malicious, but I think Angeal was actually extremely immature and so self-righteous he'd rather they all be miserable than see someone he loved find support from someone he found unworthy.)

[shaolin-spin-doctor]

MKX old Liu Kang is Like That because he's a redeemed revenant like Lao. It's Totally canon. you heard it from redeemed revenant CEO (me) :)