#i think i had more of a point to make here but I lost it in the swan rant mb

[ofbatsandballads]

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[avelera]

(Arcane Meta) Zaun Died with Silco

I want to open this by saying I understand people who are upset that there isn't more Piltover/Zaun conflict and resolution in S2 of Arcane. However, I'm going to argue here that the reason it's not in S2 after 2.03 is because the conflict is over. Piltover won. There is no more Zaun anymore as a potential political player and, ultimately, this comes back to haunt Piltover in their hour of need.

Overall, while I am invested in the Piltover/Zaun conflict, especially in S1, I'm less focused on Caitlyn and Vi's story which is our main lens for the conflict, or rather the end of the conflict, in S2. Still, I hope to offer my more Arcane worldbuilding-focused perspective. And just to get it out of the way, here are a few things I had trouble with:

I too was puzzled that anyone from the Undercity would join Piltover in the defense of the city.

I also thought it was strange to have Jayce focus on the threat that Viktor posed with his robots while soliciting help from the undercity, instead of on Ambessa, the more clear and understandable threat that would have made a better rallying point and allowed for a final discussion about the Noxian occupation of the undercity and how Noxus turning on Piltover was just them reaping what they sowed.

I was certainly taken aback when everyone was given Enforcer uniforms for the final fight.

That said, I believe there are answers to all three of these. From there, I want to dive into what exactly happened in S2 with Piltover vs. Zaun, to my eyes. Short version: there is no more "Zaun" as a potential nation or political player by 2.03 when the Chem Barons are taken out by Cait's forces, but it really died before that with Silco, who was already in a precarious negotiating situation himself and he knew it.

Very few people from the Undercity joined Piltover's defense of the city. Maybe a half dozen. I felt that was our moment of "you reap what you sow" for Piltover. A few passionate idealists who could see the bigger picture that saving Piltover does mean saving the undercity joined, but there were no hordes of volunteers. Piltover had lost the right to them and was substantially weakened for it.

Jayce choosing to focus on Viktor as the threat makes sense for him, but it was a poor political move and probably lost him volunteers he would have otherwise gained. The robot army threat is too esoteric and fantastical. "The Noxians turned on us and plan to conquer the city," is a threat that would have been better for rallying the troops, Jayce is just too single-minded to think of it. He's a bad politician.

The Enforcer uniforms are an odd sour note, but they do make sense as protective gear. Piltover doesn't have an army. There are no uniforms to give people. All they have is Enforcer uniforms. It is an odd note symbolically, but practically speaking it shows how little time Piltover had to prepare. Piltover is a civilian city going up against a military force like Noxus. They are woefully underprepared and really only have their status as defender in urban fighting to give them a prayer of even stalling the Noxian forces. Ironically, Piltover's only hope against Noxus mirrors Zaun's only hope against Piltover if they had gone to war: the difficult nature of urban fighting against an entrenched, motivated opponent on their home turf.

Now, to get into, "What happened to the overall Piltover vs. Zaun fight?" I get why people think it's lacking in S2, and I get why people find it horrifying that there is no independent Zaun at the end, all we've got is Sevika with one seat on the Council, as far as we can tell but I would point out:

Zaun is dead at this point. It's been dead since 2.03. Arguably, it really died with Silco.

As Jinx said, she didn't just destroy her own family, she cursed an entire society when she launched that rocket into the Council Chamber.

Here's the thing, Jayce was actually right when he said Zaun wouldn't stand a chance in an outright war with Piltover.

Yes, Zaun has a lot of brawlers. They have Shimmer and the Shimmer berserkers.

But Zaun doesn't have any sort of organized fighting force beyond the guards of individual Chem Barons and their factories.

What Zaun has is the fissures. It has ugly, difficult urban fighting in dangerous spaces. But as a counter to that, we have the fact that their ventilation is controlled from Piltover. In a true all-out war, Piltover could in theory just flush out the entire undercity using the Gray. Having your infrastructure entirely dependent on an enemy oppressor is what I would call a "fatal flaw" in any defensive military strategy, particularly when what they can cut off is the air you breathe. That's easily game over right there unless Silco has a way to circumvent that.

In a guerilla war, Zaun could probably hold out for a long, grinding, ugly civil war made up of mostly guerrilla attacks, in which a great number of innocent civilians will die, even in an all-out conflict with Piltover. But it would suffer catastrophic losses and probably still lose in the end.

Now, Jayce is I think somewhat naive in his claim Zaun doesn't stand a chance. Maybe Zaun wouldn't stand a chance in the long run, but they'd make Piltover pay for every inch with blood. They'd grind Piltover down into a shadow of its former self, force them to sacrifice all of their principles. To some extent, I think Jayce gets that, he gets that he doesn't want more kids to die, but I think even he underestimates just how ugly that war would be and how long it would go and how unrecognizable his Piltover would be by then.

The moment that gives Silco pause in Jayce's assessment of how easily Zaun would be crushed isn't the fighting. Silco is pretty confident that they could make Piltover pay and he's arguably looking forward to the chance on some level.

What gives him pause is when Jayce says the Council doesn't care.

To some extent, Silco like any revolutionary against an oppressive "civilized" society (heavy, heavy emphasis on the air quotes there) is that a certain point, Piltover is so soft-hearted they will get tired of the bloodshed.

What Jayce just told Silco is that the Council is more barbaric than even Silco maybe appreciated, for all their vaunted principles. There isn't necessarily a limit to how many Zaunite children will die before Piltover decides to cease hostilities. Knowing what Silco knows of Piltover's brutality, I think that is a sobering moment for Silco. That's when he decides this really is the best time to negotiate.

(Aside, this is by the way where Vi is wrong about Silco, driven by her emotions. Silco is willing to set aside the feud to get his nation of Zaun, he can be negotiated with. He's just not willing to give up his daughter (something Vi can't possibly understand at this point).)

Here's why it's the best time for Silco to negotiate and it ties into everything else:

Without Shimmer, which has been severely hampered by the raid on the factory, Zaun doesn't have anything to counter Hextech.

Jinx's wild attacks against Piltover has helped put the pressure on them that Silco capitalizes on. But it is a paper-thin threat. She is a lone albeit devastating terrorist. She makes Zaun appear more dangerous than it is but that can't last forever. Silco has leveraged her attacks into a pressure campaign against Piltover, but a serious response from Piltover (as seen in 2.03 with the strike team corners and very nearly captures her) could reveal just how fragile that threat is.

Basically, Zaun has some champions, arguably a league of legends lol, but it doesn't have an army. It doesn't even have Enforcers of its own. It doesn't have a concerted force of any kind.

The money is running out. As "Sucker" shows us in 2.02, each Chem Baron that gets taken out means less money on the table, and we're down 2 by the beginning of S2 with Silco and Finn, who arguably both fell to internal fighting.

As the Chem Barons say in 2.02, even if they got total unity in Zaun, they're outnumbered.

However, they don't have total unity in Zaun. They can't even get the Chem Barons to agree on what to do on one topic, with Jinx.

Silco basically has to accept the deal with Jayce when he does, while Zaun appears to be at its strongest. Because if he had waited any longer, the fact that they don't have the strength or money to back it up would have become apparent.

Furthermore, once Jayce resigns from the Council, which he was planning to do anyway regardless of Jinx's attack, would mean Zaun would lose its one champion with the political capital to give them independence. The window for Zaun independence is actually extremely narrow.

With Silco's death and Jinx's attack on the Council, then the subsequent eradication of the other Chem Barons, their resources, their money, including Shimmer which was the only thing Zaun really had to match them against Hextech in that arms race, there really isn't a Zaun anymore.

There's no one to negotiate with. No one to hand power to. No force that can govern itself. Zaun is completely fractured with the eradication of the Chem Barons. By taking them out, Cait removed the need for Piltover to negotiate with Zaun. And the reason Piltover chose not to was because of Jinx's rocket and then the attack on the memorial, which was orchestrated by Ambessa.

This is all according to Ambessa's design, by the way. She divides Piltover/Zaun against themselves by capitalizing on Jinx's attack. She leaves both severely weakened to make it easier for her to take over, and Piltover walks right into the trap. They would have fallen to Noxus if not for Mel's love of the city, even if you remove Viktor and Jayce's plotline entirely.

TL;DR Zaun is gone, guys. It's a distant dream. Sevika is the only person with an interest in making it happen anymore and she can't even get the Jinxers to listen to her. All the factions are easily arrested at the rally. Piltover has no reason to negotiate with any of these people. As the lone torchbearer for that cause, it makes sense for Sevika to be on the Council but beyond her, there is literally no one else to give a voice to (since Ekko doesn't appear to have an interest).

At least, until the Noxians turn on them, and then there's an interest in Piltover and the undercity joining forces, but as I referenced at the beginning of this, Piltover has now lost the right to the undercity's help AND lacks the undercity's resources too. Now Noxus has Shimmer instead of Piltover or Zaun, in addition to their sophisticated and expertly trained military force. As Jayce said, they were meant to lose this fight. Arguably, they never had a chance of winning if not for Mel claiming the loyalty of the Noxians in the wake of her mother's death and everything Jayce did to stop Viktor and the Hexcore.

[nomie-11]

Street Racer!Vi x F1 Driver!Reader - VI

masterlist!

Vi felt like she was way out of her league. Formula 1 was a whole new world outside of her little bubble of street racing and fast cars. 

Your blue and white Hextech Racing race suit was a stark contrast to her leather jacket and cargo boots, and it seemed like everyone she passed by in the paddock stared at her like she had stolen her VIP pass (not that she blamed them, Vi had a face tattoo and a pink undercut that never looked perfectly clean). 

Vi tugged at the lanyard around her neck, feeling a little out of place among the rich, polished rows of the Formula 1 paddock. The chatter of engineers, the hiss of air guns, and the low hum of the engines created an atmosphere that was entirely foreign to her. She was used to the smell of burning rubber in back alleys and dingy garages covered in oil and grease, not high-tech pits and champagne bottles that probably cost more than her rent. 

And then there was you. 

You stood by your car, laughing with your race engineer—Viktor, a Zaunite who just happened to be a genius, as you said—as you adjusted your gloves, exuding a confidence that had Vi completely mesmerized. Your Hextech Racing suit hugged your frame perfectly, and the way you carried yourself screamed that you belonged here—on the world's biggest stage for racing. 

When your eyes finally met hers, you broke into a grin, passing a quick goodbye to Viktor before jogging over as if she wasn’t standing there awkwardly trying not to look like a lost tourist. 

“Vi!” You called, your voice cut trying through the noise. “You made it.”

“Of course I would make it,” her familiar confident smirk took place on her face despite her own racing heart. “It’s not everyday you get to see your girl in a Formula 1 car.”

You laughed, and Vi felt the familiar heat of a light blush dusting her cheeks. 

“I race almost every other weekend, Vi,” You grinned. “You could come any week.”

Vi shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Yeah, well, your world’s a bit… shiny for me.” 

You tilted your head, giving her that knowing look that always made her feel like you could see right through her tough exterior. “Vi, you’ve literally stared down enforcers mid-race and didn’t even flinch. You think these people scare me more than you?”

“It’s not about them.” Vi’s gaze flicked around the paddock as though searching for the right words. “It’s just… I’m not exactly ‘team sponsor material.’” She made air quotes, her tattooed fingers curling as she gave an awkward, lopsided grin. 

You reached for her hand, ignoring the bustling engineers and photographers just a few steps away. “You’re my material, and that’s all that matters.” Your tone softened. “Besides, I kinda love seeing you here. Makes me feel like I’ve got a little piece of my world cheering me on.”

Vi ducked her head, her ears turning pink. She muttered something like “yeah, yeah, okay,” which you knew was her way of agreeing without getting all mushy in front of your pit crew. 

Just as you were about to slip on your helmet, you hesitated, turning back to her with a playful smile. “Wait. Kiss for luck?” 

Vi blinked, her brows shooting up. “What? Now? Here?” she gestured around. “Babe, there’s cameras everywhere!”

You pointed at the bottom line underneath your visor on the left side of the helmet, where the roman numeral VI was subtly embedded into the design, perfectly matching her own tattoo. “You’re seriously telling me you’re worried about a little PDA when I’ve got this on my helmet for the world to see?”

Her lips parted in surprise, her cheeks reddening. “That’s… cute as hell,” she muttered. 

“Damn right it is,” you teased, slipping your helmet on over your head and flicking up the visor so she could still see your eyes. “Now, kiss it. Like I do for you before every race.” 

Vi hesitated for a beat longer, glancing around the bustling paddock. But then she exhaled sharply, muttering something about how you always managed to get your way. Stepping closer, she cupped the sides of your helmet with her calloused hands and pressed a quick kiss to the top, her lips brushing over the crown of the helmet while her thumb lightly scraped over the VI on the side.

“Happy now?” she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching up in a smirk. 

“Ecstatic.” You grinned, slipping into the cockpit of your car. 

As the mechanics swarmed around, checking the final setups, Vi stepped back, folding her arms as she watched you settle in. She didn’t notice the flash of a camera in the distance or the way your team principal—a tall, buff guy named Jayce who Vi remembers you saying she would get along with—grinned knowingly. 

Later, when she saw the photo on your lockscreen—her kiss captured in perfect clarity—Vi groaned, burying her face in her hands. 

“You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

“Nope,” you replied, grinning as you held up your phone. “Best lockscreen ever.”

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[subtlyeuphoric]

So, I know this is about forest horror and not video game horror, but I was playing FOREWARNED with my friends and had a very weird 'just let it follow you' moment.

FOREWARNED is a horror co-op game where you're graverobbers going into Egyptian tombs and are rightfully being hunted down by the spirits within who are pissed that you're grave robbing. Every tomb is protected by a random spirit that will hunt you after a certain point. Your game objective is to find a bunch of archeological artifacts and then treasure if you're brave enough. The spirits all have different things they do in order to try and find and then kill you.

We can all recognize this game's premise and go into it to be scared because I can be jump scared by a properly timed breeze.

What is very important to this is that it has an in game communication system. If you're killed, you can't talk to anyone any more, but you can hear things. Talking after a certain point can help the game spirit find you and kill you. If you die, you can come back as a mummy and either kill your other players or try and point them in the right direction.

So, this is about my third game and we're in a relatively big tomb and I am still so insanely unsure about how this game works. I get separated from my friends and can't hear them any more. I am lost and just want to get out of the tomb and back to the jeep. I keep asking my friends where to go with absolutely no response. I turn a corner and then I see one of them. Relieved, she starts to follow me and I feel so much better. I try to ask her how to get the fuck out of here, but she says nothing.

That makes me worried, but I think I'm being a newbie and should just shut up and so I stop saying anything. Instead, I sort of juke left and right to indicate where I want to go and what I'm doing.

Every now and again, a mummy runs up to me and I freak out and throw torches at it and run in the opposite direction. Eventually, I find scaffolding up. My friend refuses to come up, but the mummies come dashing after me and I run up terrified. The game ends.

Finally, I can hear my friends again. The spirit took on the form of one of the players and would follow you around until you spoke and then it murdered you. Apparently, my voice was glitched the entire game, so my friends couldn't hear me and were killed instantly by the spirit, so they came back as mummies to warn me. I just led this creature around asking where I should go and it didn't kill me because it could not hear me. However, when it was with me it was such a comfort.

What, the forest-dwelling entities with imperfect human mimicry who insinuate themselves into groups of hikers? Yeah, we had one of those. Clocked it immediately, of course. Honestly it kind of fell in that so-inept-it's-kind-of-charming range. We just played along until it'd had it's fill of marshmallows and shambled back into the treeline. We might have been violating some kind of killjoy wildlife contact best practices but what the hell, can't plan around every little thing. Why, what happened to you guys

[milkoomi]

⋆˚࿔ a new canvas means a new you 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

a mini series on the art of becoming a better you

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

chapter four — THE ART OF SELF RESPECT

when you live a life where you don’t respect yourself, your boundaries, your health, your mind, your emotions; just anything about you, you’ll end up living a life where you’re walked all over, where people take advantage of you, where you’ll find no successes or achievements— you live a life feeling lost and feeling empty, feeling like your mission in life is to be meaningless. we’re taught to respect others, but we’re never taught to respect ourselves. we, as individuals, need to have the highest level of respect for one person. that person being us.

ᥫ᭡. where to start

decenter men

i was talking about this the other night with my best friend, but way too many people (women, men, trans women/men, literally anyone) center their lives around men. the patriarchy has stolen so many people’s individuality, stripping them of finding their own personality, their own interests, opinions, hobbies, etc. and that is one of the main reasons people don’t have any self respect. decenter men.

a man should not, and never define who you are as a person. a man should never make you feel like you are undeserving of your own successes. a man should never make you feel any less than what you truly are! men should never be a source of validation for you as a person. it doesn’t matter if you’re a man yourself (cis or trans), it doesn’t matter if you’re a woman (cis or trans), and it doesn’t matter if you’re nonbinary/gender-nonconforming; you should never ever— and i mean ever— center your ideals, thoughts, opinions, hobbies, interests, and your entire self and life around a man.

too many people are so focused on men and what men think about them. and let me just give you some food for thought: when have you ever done something solely for yourself without the back thought of a man’s approval? i’ll admit, back in high school i spent all four years thinking about men and seeking validation from a man. from my freshman year all up until my senior year i was in back to back relationships because i couldn’t even fathom the thought of being without a man. and you know what that did for me? it made me miserable, it made me more insecure, and it made me put myself into situations that the person who i am now would be insanely repulsed by because what the fuck was i thinking? majority of my teenage years were spent centering my life around men, and i was miserable.

now, at my current age at this point in my life, i am so unbelievably lucky to be engaged to the man of my dreams, but! i remember when my partner and i first started dating, my therapist asked about 5-6 months into my relationship, “do you feel like you depend on him for your happiness?” and it made me think, “oh my god, what if i am? what if all the anxieties i have about my relationship are because i rely too much on him for my own happiness?” while my relationship with him is the healthiest, happiest, and most healing relationship i’ve ever been in, i had to learn to be okay with being by myself; with being in the company of my own, without him, because i can’t depend on him for company or happiness or peace— i have to depend on myself for those things, and he’s just my wonderful partner that i get to enjoy and experience life with. he’s not my entire life. he’s only a part of it.

you have to learn to be happy and to find peace with being by yourself. your whole life can’t be surrounding the idea of a man.

here are a couple posts that i’ve found to be really helpful with how to decenter men:

“decentering men and recentering yourself” by @honeytonedhottie

“how to decenter men” by @femmefatalevibe

stop seeking validation from others

not only do people seek validation from men, they seek validation from literally anyone. parents, teachers, bosses, friends, classmates, colleagues; people are looking from validation from all the wrong sources. you, yourself, should be the only person you seek validation from. you should be setting your own standard from yourself.

again, looking for validation from any outside source only makes you lose yourself more and more in the process. you forget all about what you want and need from yourself because you’re so focused on what other people need and want from you. validate yourself, affirm yourself, just be there for yourself. you don’t need anyone or anything else telling you that you’re doing something right. you’ll know what’s right for you because you should know yourself better than anyone else!

set boundaries

chapter three was all about learning how to say no and how to set boundaries, so i highly recommend going back to that chapter and reviewing it since i go more in-depth on that topic!

setting boundaries for yourself is one of the best things to do to regain your self respect. knowing what exactly you want from yourself and from others and setting that line will not only protect your happiness and peace, but it will also show an immense amount of respect that you have for yourself to others who may think that they don’t have to respect you.

ᥫ᭡. self respect as a whole

respecting yourself means respecting your peace, your privacy, your thoughts, your opinions, your emotions; you as a person. it protects you from things and people that could potentially harm you, whether it’s physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.

protect your peace. protect your happiness. protect your mind and your body. when you disrespect yourself by partaking in an overuse of harmful substances, having unprotected sex with someone you don’t even have a genuine connection to, or accepting behaviors from someone who’s constantly hurting you or betraying your trust you become a doormat for people to walk all over you in life.

i have known too many people, myself included, who disrespected themselves and faced one too many hardships in life. it makes us miserable and that misery turns into so many mental health issues that can sometimes cause too much harm that it makes it 100 times more difficult to recover.

self respect doesn’t have to be hard. you can always start small by just taking care of yourself! this has been a recurring theme in this series, but here i am to say it again: prioritize yourself! respect that you have needs and wants and do things for yourself that make you feel good and that benefit you. self care is vital, and respecting the fact that your own health needs to be in check is a wonderful first step towards gaining more self respect.

you have to show up for yourself, you have to immerse yourself in activities/hobbies/media that’s actually good for you— not what you think is good for you, you have to be kind to yourself, and you have to love yourself, babes. seriously, self respect can be a really simple thing at the end of the day and it can come so easily to you if you just let it be. don’t make your life harder by disrespecting yourself.

ᥫ᭡. final notes

we’re nearing the end of this mini series! chapter five will be the final chapter! i’m so thankful that this series has been shown so much love so far and i hope that it’s been able to help you guys as much as it helped me! i know i’ve been writing all of these, but something about creating content like this really motivates me to keep moving forward with my own self improvement journey.

i hope you guys always know i’m with you every step of the way in this journey. you never have to walk it alone, trust me! i know i always talk about being there for yourself, but other people (who are genuinely worth it, of course) can be there for you too! we’ve all got the same goal: to better ourselves. it’s going to be a difficult and long journey, but we’ll make it together!

with lots of love, juno 🌷

[lexosaurus]

One Giant Leap for a Ghost

Hello @charmingcritter so sorry I was late!! The days really got away from me. Anyway, happy truce! I chose to focus primarily on your space core prompt, though there are sprinkles of other prompts in here!

One Giant Leap for a Ghost Characters: Danny + his Mars crewmates (OCs for the plot) WC: 3275 Warnings: None

****

"I found you!" Danny yelled, springing out from the wall.

"God damnit, guys, Danny vented into the lab again," Mike Burlak, the crew's doctor, said from his place against the wall.

Tyron Cooper, the chemist, clicked his tongue. "Always knew that kid was the imposter."

"Yeah, you wish," Danny rolled his eyes and swooped around to see what sorts of mad scientist experiments Cooper was running today. "Between the two of us, you're definitely the imposter. I mean, who knows what kinds of poisons you're making with those."

"I'll have you know I'm completing my task, Fenton," Cooper said.

"That's what the imposter would want us to think. For all I know, you're sabotaging the mission."

"Pointing fingers now, aren't we? That's exactly what the imposter would do."

"I mean, Coop's right. You literally flew in from the air vent," Burlak said.

"Next to the air vent. Commander Stewart would have my head if I hung out in the air vent unnecessarily," Danny retorted.

"Fair point," Cooper said, returning his attention to the flasks on his lab bench. "What are you up to?"

"Gonna go do an EVA soon. It's a scheduled inspection." Despite trying to suppress it, Danny felt his aura intensify with the acknowledgment that he would get to go outside of the spaceship today, shimmering as a few hazy-looking planets threatened to form in the glow.

That moment was not lost on his crewmates, who both glanced at the faded green planets and twinkling stars around him. As much as he loved it, his core could be so predictable.

Cooper chuckled. "Well, it looks like you're ready to go."

Cool embarrassment prickled Danny's cheeks, but he couldn't fight off the smile that overtook his face as he said, "Yup!"

Burlak stepped off from the wall. "I'll be on standby, then."

Standby in case something happened that required Danny's immediate medical attention. Even though as a ghost, nothing in space could hurt him like it could to the rest of his human crew, NASA was taking no chances. Not that Danny could blame them. They didn't exactly have a plethora of ectoplasmic astronauts to pull data from.

"Let's head out! Commander Stewart's waiting."

Some days, it was difficult to believe he'd come so far. Danny remembered sitting in class in high school ready to give up on his dreams because he wasn't brilliant like Jazz and there was no way that a space agency like NASA would ever accept a half-dead teen in their program anyway. But then, his space obsession wouldn't let him throw that dream away.

Literally. 

It wouldn't let him.

After all, he had a space core. His eyes reflected the stars in the Universe and his aura shone with constellations and planets. When he looked at the sky, he didn't just see the stars, but also their characteristics, distances, temperatures, and so much more.

He was born to be an astronaut.

Which is why, despite half-dying when he was fourteen, he couldn't let that dream go. And instead of wallowing in despair, he decided to do something about it.

****

"And how old are you again?" Hugo Davis, director of the Mars missions, asked.

Phantom straightened his spine as if gaining an extra inch would magically age him ten years. "Old enough to be here."

Davis's eyes swept over him, narrowing as he scratched his fingers over his scraggly mustache. Beside him, NASA's senior executive Director Moore sat with his hands clasped before him, his face as expressive as a sheet of paper.

"I received a recommendation from Wilson," Phantom explained, though Davis would have already known this. It was in his file after all.

"And you're applying because..." Davis's voice drifted off, the silence echoing off the cavernous white walls of the conference room. 

The answer to that, too, was obvious. So obvious, that Phantom wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer the question. But it was an interview, so he responded as if he didn't notice the awkward air. "Yes, I'm applying for the Artemis program as an astronaut. Between my education and career experience, I believe I'm qualified to join the Mars mission."

Davis glanced at Moore, who decided now it was admissible to take over. "Yes, I think your qualifications are of no question. Of our applicants, you might be one of the most...uniquely qualified, I'll say, to join."

Anticipation jolted through Phantom's spine, but then Director Moore opened his mouth again, and any hope was squashed instantly. 

"However," Moore said, "I think I speak for the whole of the space program when I say there are some rather apparent concerns we need to discuss."

Those concerns were ones that Phantom was perfectly ready for, he tried to convince himself as he refrained from squirming in his seat like he was back in high school sitting in the Vice Principal's office yet again for cutting class. 

"Primarily, your...appearance." Moore swept a hand out before him.

"You mean the fact that I'm legally somewhat dead," Phantom filled in, glancing at the black, glowing jumpsuit he'd shown up to the interview wearing. Better to rip the bandaid off at the start, his father always had said.

Davis and Director Moore caught eyes once again.

"Well," Phantom continued, "technically, I'm not really dead. I'm also alive, you see, which is why I think I'm perfectly qualified for this job."

The two men remained silent at that.

"I mean, think about it. I don't need to breathe, so therefore I won't need a spacesuit. And I know how you all are about cutting costs. Well, that and less mass in the spaceship."

Director Moore scratched his chin. "Yes, cutting costs with the lack of an EVA suit is quite tempting."

"And since I can fly and wouldn't need a spacesuit, I can do repairs on the exterior of the ship far more easily than any of the human engineers could. Not to mention I can cover far more ground in a sol than any rover could. You’d have far more exploratory reach around your Martian base with me on the team."

The men nodded, lips pursed in deep contemplation. Phantom could tell that he was winning them over. He just needed one final push.

"And, if you needed any more convincing..." He flared his aura, pushing the power from the deepest part of his core into the men's visible spectrum. The white glow was replaced by the swirls of an aurora, and speckled stars shone out from the light, twinkling and grouping into constellations. "Well, I'm sure you've been filled in on my file, but it's all true. My powers really do let me locate any star or planet in the Universe. All I need is a name, and I can tell you its basic features, gravity, and coordinates."

"Do you mind if I test you?" Davis asked.

"Go ahead."

"Kepler-1b."

Phantom pointed his finger in the air, and an ecto-hologram of a black planet surrounded by the light of its sun formed above them. He closed his eyes, and the words appeared behind his lids like a textbook. "Kepler-1b, otherwise known as TrES 2b, is the darkest planet known to humankind and is located 750 light years away. It orbits around GSC 03549-02811, it's got a gravity of 1.4 g's, and its right ascension is 19:07:14.035 with a declination of +49:18:59.0." He opened his eyes and grinned at the two men who were currently looking at him like he'd grown a second head. "Will that suffice?"

"I'd heard the rumors, but I wasn't sure if they were true." Director Moore's shocked expression melted into an approving smile. "I think we got what we needed. That'll be all. We'll be in touch soon."

****

Space was silent.

Space was expansive.

Space was incredible. 

Magnificent. Amazing. Utterly breathtaking, and every single other word that Danny could pull from his mental dictionary.

Space was beautiful. And it was his. Not in the sense where a ghost lair belonged to a ghost, because even Danny's space core recognized that no one could dare lay claim to such a beast, but when Danny closed his eyes and smelled the metallic particles that dusted around him, he knew that he was truly home.

They called it an EVA for the sake of consistency, but Danny was not wearing a spacesuit. He didn't need one. He was a ghost. Not just any ghost, but Phantom, the ghost that haunted Amity Park's observatory. He was born to do spacewalks.

Convincing NASA's top worrywarts that an EVA suit was unnecessary was a challenge in itself, but somehow, he managed to do it. And thank goodness for that because, without the suit, he could truly experience everything that outer space had to offer: the bone-setting cold, the lack of atmosphere, the lack of air. 

His ghost core adored it. The feeling, the silence.

"Don't get lost out there," came the amused, tinny voice of Commander Stewart through his bone-conduction CCA earpiece.

"Sorry," Danny responded, squinting into the distance. "It's just that the sun looks so small from here." He twirled around and grinned at the approaching red planet before him. "And Mars looks so huge. It's hard to believe we're still so far away when it looks like I can reach out and touch it."

"Well, it's only half the size of Earth," said Burlak. 

"I don't know if you knew this, but the Earth is pretty large," retorted Cooper.

"Oh, shut up."

"Boys." Commander Stewart's voice was sharp. There was a moment of muttering apologies before she took an audible breath and tried again. "Phantom, how is the inspection going?"

"It's...going." 

"That's code for Space Ghost over here has spent the entire time ogling Mars again," the engineer, Merissa Chase, joked.

Well, could anyone blame him? Mars was just so pretty and red and...and...

"Finish the inspection and report back," Commander Stewart said.

Danny blinked, turning back to the huge spaceship in front of him. "Yes, Commander!"

****

Danny felt the edges of the folded paper pressing between his palms. Despite his best intentions, the paper was slightly wrinkled, a casualty of his tight grip. He loosened his fingers, took a deep breath, and began. "I need you all to sit down."

Jazz eyed him curiously, her red hair slipping off her shoulder. "You okay, Danny?"

"Yeah, dude, you look pale," Tucker agreed.

"I'm fine," Danny replied, perhaps more curtly than he'd intended. He took another breath, forcing his heart to slow. "I have something to tell you all."

"What is it, son?" Dad asked. "And why did you make us take off all our weapons earlier?"

Danny glanced away. "I just don't want you to be mad at me."

Maddie stopped before her seat, her instincts seemingly kicking into high gear before she had a chance to sit down. "What is it?"

Danny shrank back, then before he could list any of the nine-thousand reasons why this was a bad idea, he unfurled the letter and passed it to his mother.

"Dear Mr. Phantom," she began, her voice catching. "Mr. Phantom? As in the space-themed ghost?"

"Just keep reading."

"We at NASA are pleased to extend an offer of employment as an astronaut on the Mars Mission team. Despite the lack of ectoplasmic entities in our employment, we feel as though the unique skills you bring as an individual are unmatched by any human. Throughout the interview process, we have enjoyed getting to know you and appreciate you letting us test the advantages that your abilities offer. We were especially impressed by your navigational abilities as demonstrated in your interview, which is a power that we believe will put your team at a huge advantage when traversing through space. It is for these reasons and many more that we are extending this position to you."

Danny tasted the words on his lips, mouthing along subconsciously as he pictured the words in his mind that his eyes had hungrily soaked in hundreds of times since he'd received the letter in the mail.

"We are eager to begin discussing the details of your position with you soon.  Should you choose to accept the offer, you will be expected to relocate to Houston where you will begin training. Your expected starting date is June fifth, and you will be asked to sign a confidentiality contract at the start of your employment. Please contact me if you have any questions in the meantime. Welcome to the NASA team."

His mother finished reading the letter, letting her final words hang in the air like dew on fresh-cut grass. Danny kept his eyes downturned, unable to bear to see the looks of confusion or—worse—realization from his parents.

This was it. This was the moment when he finally told his parents that he was a half-ghost.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Jazz said, breaking the silence. She jumped from her chair and swept him into a hug.

"Holy shit, you got the job?" Tucker asked.

"Yeah." Danny finally broke out in a grin.

"Congrats, Danny!" Sam cheered. "That's awesome!"

"I don't understand. Why is this addressed to Phantom?" Maddie asked.

The cheers died in the room, and Danny's stomach plummeted once again. He finally looked up to see the distress of his parents, and he knew that it was time. Finally, after years of avoidance, he had to stop running.

"Mom, Dad, I have something I need to tell you..."

And he began. He told them about the portal, about how in his last moments, he thought about the future he'd never have. How he woke up in Phantom's body with ectoplasmic planets swirling above him. How he tried to forget about it, pretend it never happened, but he couldn't because every time he'd look up at the night sky, all he wanted to do was transform and fly to the edges of the Universe. How he'd worked so hard all these years, doing all the right things, to set his career down this road. How despite being significantly younger than most of the applicants, he still pursued this path because he knew with all his steadfast heart that this mission, this legacy was one he was made to have.

And now, he was willing to risk it all. Applying for the Mars mission meant that he would need to reveal his secret to the world. And that was something he was ready to do.

When he finished speaking, his throat was sore with thirst. He hadn't realized how much there had been to say. And even still, he knew that was only barely scratching the surface of his life since his accident. He hadn't the confidence to meet his parents' eyes throughout his long-winded speech, but now he finally forced his head to lift, he forced himself to see the teary-eyed stares of his ghost-hunter parents before him.

But where he expected fear was nothing but love.

"Son," Jack said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm so proud of you."

"We're both proud of you, honey," Maddie said.

"I can't believe it. My brother, Danny, a future astronaut." Jazz beamed. "Congratulations."

****

The descent vehicle slowed.

"Adjusted thirty kilometers east," the pilot, Parth Chadha, said.

"Right above target," Commander Stewart responded.

"Lowering now."

There was a jolt as the boosters switched off, and then they were descending again at speeds that would have had Danny's parents covering their eyes in fear. But not Danny. He was a ghost, after all, and these speeds were just another Tuesday for him.

"Slowing our descent."

Danny slammed into his seat as the boosters re-engaged, stopping their free-fall and slowing them until they reached Martian soil.

"And we've landed on Mars."

But Danny already knew that. He could feel it. And the moment they hit the ground, the air sparked with an electric anticipation that his core couldn't help but soak in like a sponge.

It took everything in him to not phase out of his seatbelt, shoot through the side of the descent vehicle, and take in the sights of Mars. But these missions had an unspoken etiquette, and so he waited. He waited for Chadha to turn off the descent vehicle, he waited for the rest of the crew to get out of their chairs, he waited and waited until he thought his core was going to explode. 

"Alright, crew, this is it. Outside those doors is the Elysium Planitia, our home for the next two months. Our priority is setting up the Outpost. Fenton and Chase, you're both on solar panel duty."

"Gotcha, Commander," Merissa said. "We better hurry it up, though, because I think if we wait another minute, Danny over here is gonna have an aneurysm."

"Jeez, I've never seen him glow like that before," Cooper said.

"Sorry!" Danny said, though he really wasn't. Because he was finally here. He was on Mars. 

"Alright, I guess we better get to it, then." Commander Stewart turned for the door. "Artemis crew? I'm ordering us off the descent vehicle."

Depressurizing took forever and a half. But finally, finally, the door swung open to reveal a sea of red dust and rocks below an orange sky. As is tradition, Commander Stewart stepped out to the soil first, and one by one, the crew followed.

And finally, it was Danny's turn.

Obeying the laws of gravity was typically a challenge in ghost form. But to obey the laws of a gravity only a third of Earth's while also battling the excitement of being on Mars was an entirely different level of challenge. But he forced his tail to form legs, and he forced his feet to descend the stairs of the descent vehicle because he wanted his first entrance on Mars to leave a real footprint. One that was his. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the elation that could come from the Martian soil crunching beneath his boot. Nothing. It was pure, unfiltered joy. One that he didn't think he could replicate for as long as he lived.

His core took over, and green tinted his orange vision, sparkling and glittering with ectoplasmic constellations and energy. He shot into the air, laughing into his CCA system and not caring who heard because he'd made it! After all these years, all the nights of studying and gazing into the night sky and thinking and hoping and wishing that he could be up there, up here, and he was finally here! 

He inhaled deeply. Mars's air was thin compared to Earth's and smelled sweet and dry like a desert. He took another breath, and hints of sulfur and chalk wafted through his nose. The smell was foreign compared to what he was used to in the sterile Artemis aircraft, but it spoke of an ancient planet, one untouched by the paws of humanity, and he couldn't help but breathe in again, and again, soaking up every inch of the air that his nose could handle.

The air was cold, too. Though, compared to the cold of outer space, it felt like Florida in July. But compared to Earth, it was frigid. Not that he cared. With his space core, he was able to handle any temperature thrown at him. So despite the fact that he'd previously reported surface temperatures to the team of -20C, to him, the air was perfect. 

"Oh no, Fenton's lost it," Cooper joked.

"You wish," he responded, feeling a grin spread across his cheeks. 

"Alright, come down here. We have to get to work setting up the outpost or else we'll all be sleeping in the MDV tonight," Commander Stewart said.

Danny scanned the distance once more, taking in the sights of red rock against the orange horizon. This was it. This was everything he'd worked for.

And it was so worth it.

"Now, Phantom."

"Coming!"

[artinventor]

Ok let’s break it down shall we:

In season 4-5 I could already see the shipping potential with the concept of an angel pulling a faithless man out of hell, and said angel who is a robotic soldier suddenly starts to feel emotion after interacting more and more with said man.

Insane foundation already but I did think of how castiel seemed to already have a fascination with humanity after I saw his chat with uriel at the park where he tells dean that not only does he think all humans are works of art but that he already has doubts in heaven and in his absent father. Dean IS the one to inspire him to ultimately rebel and discover free will but I could excuse it as mainly a personal journey that you could certainly just say is a budding friendship. Setting aside the fact that they would constantly look at each other for long moments in a really charged way (for castiel I could say he’s a cosmic being that is unfamiliar with social norms or human emotion so staring intensely can be a byproduct of that but I don’t have an excuse for dean’s reactions to it, you can tell he wants to be threatened but my guy looked enraptured, if not ignited by it)

It wasn’t until season 6 and the episode The Man Who Would Be King that the “oh they’re so gay” hit me.

You’re telling me that this angel has been around for eons, witnessed the creation of everything on earth and observed it’s many big events, but did not start to feel emotion or act out until he met dean?? And he champions dean’s mission of free will even when he doesn’t fully understand it himself when the other angels ask him. I can say this is still apart of his personal journey but at this point I cannot deny that dean is the one that really spearheaded it forward. He starts a whole war in heaven so that he can maintain dean’s mission and so that his sacrifice (his brother) was not for nothing. The fact that cas’ bad decisions were all based on the fact that he just didn’t want Dean to be involved because he was finally retired and at peace so he had no one else to turn to except crowley. He really cares about dean’s happiness THAT much, that is a mighty intense feeling to have for someone to me.

Then they emphasize the fact that dean is the one who feels the most betrayed by cas after struggling to even accept it in the first place. There’s a lot of intensity within the dialogue in the scene they confront him about it, and they’re sure to give me a close up on only dean to make sure I know how he feels about it. The eye contact in that scene really goes crazy because there was so much there on a deeper level, It was like you could see how they both realized the betrayal was breaking the trust between them but they were still wanting to hang on to that connection because it was something they both cherished, the way dean looked back before leaving? Insane.

That episode was the main hit for me, but it was largely mainly on castiel’s end. The main hit from dean’s end for me was when I saw the purgatory flashbacks in season 8.

In season 7 it seemed to me that dean was very effected by cas’ death and handled it in the classic dean winchester way of internalizing it all, but we get lines here and there about how bothered he is by it whenever his concerning behavior is somewhat addressed. Before Cas even had a chance to redeem himself after what he did, Dean seems to have already forgiven him, defending him once cas re-gains his lost memory and says he deserved to die. This showed me that the connection they had meant as much to dean as it did to cas.

And he really shows how much it means to him with how he fights tooth and nail to get cas out of purgatory. Cas literally disappeared once they got there, making it look like he abandoned dean, and then actively ran away from dean because he thought he belonged there. Yet dean was so insane that he hunted down cas’ location, caught up with him and dragged him to that portal. He literally had a way out that he chose to ignore until he found castiel, and was willing to die to get him out. Dean very desperately wants cas to be around when he gets out, he did not like how it felt when he previously wasn’t. Again, that is a mighty intense feeling to have for someone to me. Especially with how his memory literally changed what happened because he couldn’t handle that cas was left behind??

I do think a big part of this storyline is showing how dean thinks everything and everyone is his responsibility because of the way he was raised by his father as a hunter and protector. But we’ve seen this in dean since the beginning, while not fully addressed until now, it’s not new, so the fact that they used castiel to further show this side of him is very insane. Leaving Cas in purgatory would effect nobody on the outside except Dean, Dean made it his personal mission to get that angel out even after everything he had done, and that level of intensity was another major hit on the Destiel train for me. That and the gay ass reaction dean had when cas walked out of the bathroom when he got back from purgatory???

anyway, I’m only on episode 8 of season 8 rn so that’s all I’ve seen so far.

y’all I am so sorry for years I assumed that gay ship in supernatural was just a delusion that people overanalyzed and claimed queerbait for no reason cuz I’ve seen that happen a million times but now that I’m actually watching the show they really were gay as fuck LMAOOOO

[chrypir]

FOR THE BEST

in which two past lovers meet again when they needed each other the most. 🎐

after 2 years of letting go the dream she once lived Yu Jimin now faces the hard time of living a life she doesn’t deserve. as she navigates through herself and her emotions she stumbles back apon Choi Su Bong. a childish man that she once called hers. however, now unable to call their relationship something in the present, the two split due to difficulties in life. but a man in a suit and a silly offer to play some games can change everything for these two.

hi everyone! this is my first fanfic so i hope you guys enjoy! this will be chapter one and i’ll try to send more chapters asap! this is a past lovers fic with angst and a hint of smut eheh, but this will be a choi su bong x oc fic since i dont really like doing xreader fics hehe. but i might do one in the future who knows! nws enjoy!

CHAPTER 1: the lies i tell myself

YU JIMIN

“Uhm excuse me?”

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, turning around a small kid came eye to eye with me. “Yes can I help you?” I was exhausted, working here in a children’s play area was not for the weak. The amount of shit I had to clean up (literally), the moms coming an hour later to pick up their kids, and don’t get me started on the married fathers hitting on me. “Unnie can you help me find my toy? I think I lost it in the area over there..” I let out a sigh, ‘It doesn’t hurt to help a kid out..’, I thought to myself. “Sure kiddo, just lead me to where you think it might be.” I crouched down and ruffled his hair.

-

“You sure it’s here?” It’s been 15 minutes and I’ve been scrambling through the ball pits to find a car toy for the kid. My knees were about to go numb. “Oh unnie!” I turned around, sweat dripping through my forehead, it was a hot day already and going through thousands of plastic balls did not help. “Yes?” I replied. “It was in my pocket the whole time!” My a small smile formed, “Was it now huh?” I teased him, standing back up as I told myself he’s just a kid. “I’m really sorry for bothering you…” My smile faded as the little boy looked down. “Hey it’s alright! I can be kind of careless with my stuff too. No biggie!” I send a reassuring smile to the kid, hoping it was able to make him feel less guilty.

An hour later I closed up the shop and started my way to the race track. “Ajussi, mind turning the power on?” “Isn’t it past your bed time?” “Just turn the power on.” I laughed. Ending the day by going on the race track was always something I looked forward to. Putting on my gear I signaled the ready sign and waited for the track to be complete. As I close my eyes I felt the breeze of the wind. Gripping onto my steering wheel.

As soon as the gun went off I let go of everything and drive.

-

“Aigoo, look how skinny you are now. Here I bought some jjajangmyeon. Let’s eat” “You’re my favorite ajussi!” I giggled as I wiped the sweat off of my face. “So, how’s the investigation? Have they found her yet?” I sighed, disapointment plastered all over my face. “No, they say it’s gonna be harder since the last time I was with her she was still a baby.. But I’m sure they’ll find her someday.” As I chew the noodles in my mouth all the negative feelings start coming back, and without knowing tears start to build up in my eyes. “Hey, hey,” I look up at the old man, feeling his hand cover my own, “They’ll find her.” he reassured with a smile. I look at him without saying anything, my eyes still teary. I smile. It was great having someone to still lean onto. Someone I could still find positivity from during dark times.

Money was growing tighter, my fairytale of a life was taken away from me, I didn’t have any hope for life at some point. I remember walking up to the bridge to jump. I was so tired. So tired of how everything was being taken away from me one at a time. Until this Old Man caught me. The way he stood by me no matter what. Gave me a place to live, fed me, and took care of me. Coincidentally he was an owner of a race track, however it wasn’t being used so as soon as I came in it was mine to borrow.

Looking at the old man as he continued eating I smile, “Ajussi,” he looked up, “thank you.” “Aigoo just eat your noodles.” I laugh, and the world grew quieter.

CHOI SU BONG

“Ya, Choi Su Bong!”

Fuck this bitch is killing me. As I stepped out of the apartment my head was aching. Alcohol was still in my system and I wasn’t entirely sobered up yet. “Ya! Choi Su Bong!” “What? Can’t you see I’m trying to go home?” “You still owe me 3 more sessions! What makes you think you can just run away after fucking me without aftercare huh?!” I lit the cigarette in my palms, taking a big huff as my whole head felt like it was gonna explode. “I’ll come by next week.” and with that I was finally left alone.

The truth is I didn’t wanna do sex work. It was the last option in my list. However, after that fucking crypto scam my whole world fell apart. Things were going great at first, my career was sky rocketing, hit after hit released in my rap albums. I felt like I was on top of the world. Until the crypto shit started.. When I lost all my life savings I was done for. I couldn’t afford rent, couldn’t make anymore music, I was in the dumps. Till a friend told me about sex work. I’ll be honest at first I was intrigued, my dumbass totally thought I could actually earn shit by making some girls cum. Turns out I was wrong, I’m stuck with debt and annoying girls trying to pull on my dick.

As I kept walking trying to find my way back to the motel I was staying at my phone started ringing. “The fuck..” Checking my phone I realized it was mom. “Shit.” My hands started shaking, the last time I talked with my parents (especially my father) was when I got kicked out of the house after they found out I wanted to pursue a career of rap and music. I let out a sigh before picking up the phone call, “Hello?” Complete silence. “Su Bonga..” The voice of my mom came out, and all of a sudden I felt tears pool in. “How’ve you been? You doing okay? Sorry for calling so late, your father’s out of town and I was wondering how you were..” “I’m comfortable mom, no need to worry..” I slipped out a lie. Lie number 1. “Ah I see.. Hows Jimin? Is she still having trouble sleeping?” My mind was racing at this point, her name started ringing in my ears. “Yea she’s doing better, I try to help her out sometimes and I just bought her some medication.” Lie number 2.

“Okay well.. I see you’re doing well. That makes me relieved, please tell Jimin I said hello… Goodnight Su Bong.” “Night mom.. I lo-“ and with that the phone ended.

At this point I was lying to everyone I loved. Lying to myself was also part of the deal.

END OF CHAPTER 1

[iminyourwallsbabe]

Hey I'm back with more arcane thoughts and they're sad! Because god forbid we catch a break in this fandom, right? Anyway (spoilers ahead)

MEL DOESN'T HAVE FRIENDS :(

I know that's gonna sound crazy. You're probably saying, "oh but she's so cool and lovely" and I agree but I really need y'all to think about this. Who does she talk to for any reason except political intrigue? Nobody but Jayce and Viktor. You could make an argument for Lest but she was also spying for her, so we don't know the nature of that relationship. It may very well have been another political thing.

Now I just wanna say upfront that I don't think any of this is really her fault, I mean you've seen how the council is and she probably doesn't know anybody else in Piltover. I mean think about it, she's a whole princess, her life IS politics. Her existence is political. Anyone she knew before her exile is probably a noble of some kind and it's very hard to remove politics from those relationships. That's probably how she ended up on the council to begin with. Jayce and Viktor are the only people who aren't nobility that she talks to. Jayce is a part of a family that was only just starting to gain significant wealth and respect, he's new money. Viktor is from the undercity. All of his money is coming from whoever's paying for him to be there. They're the only people who exist outside of the politics of the council. They're also dead now.

So let me summarize and put it in perspective. Mel lost her brother, was exiled from her home and whatever relationships she had there (which was probably with a whole bunch of nobles), went to Piltover and became a politician, thus becoming surrounded by nobles once again, she then had to kill her mom, and the only people who didn't want anything from her and didn't pressure her are now space dust. Let it sink in.

It makes this scene right here just that much sadder. She's really doing it all on her own now. Once again, her whole life will revolve around politics and there's nobody to give her a break. Nobody she can trust enough to be vulnerable around. She has more power than ever before but I don't think that's ever what she wanted. She knew she'd get it, I don't think this was a surprise, she knew she didn't have a choice.

I'm also thinking about how she didn't even have time to process her grief. They just cleaned up the aftermath of the war, which took a few weeks if not a month. They're probably still wondering what happened to Jayce and Viktor, did they figure it out yet? Can they even figure it out? She's probably still waiting on that news here. She probably already assumed they were gone in some capacity. That must be hurting her like you wouldn't believe, especially considering that she and Jayce never officially ended their relationship. They got separated, argued a little bit but made up, and then just went to war. There was no time to break up even if they wanted to, and honestly I'm not sure that they did and I'm saying this as a Jayvik truther. And don't even get me started on the guilt she probably feels about her mother. That could be a whole other post in itself.

Anyway, point is, Mel needs a hug so so badly oh my GOD

[anincompletelist]

2025 wips!

hi all! :D

very low pressure tag to everyone (open tag as well!) to share what you're working on in 2025! I've hit a bit of a wall and need to get organized, and even though most of my fics are impromptu 4am ramblings, I figured I'd hold myself accountable here and make it into a game of sorts for anyone who might be inclined to do the same.

I hope you've all had a lovely new year so far! x

*obligatory slightly nsfw warning*

ex-marine henry

after being dishonorably discharged from his position in the royal marines that he never truly wanted in the first place, henry finds himself adrift, hoping to start anew in the states. he meets alex, a younger, freshly divorced lawyer with whom it appears at first he has nothing in common with, but soon finds much more than he bargained for as they embark on an at times tumultuous but ultimately fulfilling fifteen-year relationship, navigating the threads of vulnerability, grief, friendship, and love.

rejected soulmates support group

the world has begun to move past the singular thinking that one is incomplete without their soulmate. henry knows that many people live long, fulfilling lives on their own or with a partner that might not have been fate's first choice for them. but at heart he's always been a hopeless romantic, and when fate decides to take his soulmate's life before they've even met one another yet on the tail end of the still-raw grief of losing his father, it feels as if the world is against him. lonely and lost, henry reluctantly seeks out support in the form of a small group that meets once a week, each member bringing their own perspective of loss to the circle. he'd thought he'd decided on staying alone for the rest of his life, but alex, a kind, curious empath with plenty of baggage of his own, might be the fresh perspective he needs to give love another try.

the simple life au

as part of their damage control tour, alex and henry are forced to take part in a reboot of the show 'The Simple Life' with a twist -- they'll spend five episodes between texas and washington and five in the uk, taking turns learning what each other's day-to-day looks like. between the press junkets and lazy rivers in the states and the ballrooms and etiquette training in london, both of them find themselves with more empathy for the other than they'd anticipated. the cameras capture not only their fast friendship but the beginning of a burgeoning, unexpected romance as well, defying their initial objective and sparking tentative optimism for a previously impossible future. they're still far from free, though, as both countries have their best interests in mind and full control over what narrative is aired to the world. it's going to take a leap of faith to make it work, but alex is more than ready to show henry how to jump.

speak easy

alex, a computer science major, has never met a number he didn't like. until he starts failing the poetry section of his mandatory english course. encouraged to seek out a tutor, his professor points him toward henry, a known writer and fellow student that always seems to evade alex's attempts to get to know him more deeply. henry leads him through his own self-proclaimed five step program to becoming a 'poet', strengthening his voice and ultimately helping him pass the course. but finding his voice means visiting parts of himself that alex had previously kept locked up tight or hadn't even known were there in the first place, and sharing his realizations with henry forms a bond between them that not even the journals-full of prose passed back and forth can scratch the surface of. that won't stop him from trying, though.

+

detroit become human inspired au

henry and pez run a safe haven for those who were once machines, deemed faulty for having developed genuine humanity and facing imminent decommission if found out. the next evaluation is in less than 24 hours, and alex's humanity is at 94%. luckily, he makes it to henry just in time.

midnight cowboy

alex, the lead singer of the widely known and highly acclaimed band midnight cowboy, is henry's biggest guilty pleasure—which is saying quite a lot. as a professional escort for the rich and elite, almost none of his pleasure is guilty these days. it feels like a fever dream when he gets the request from alex himself asking to spend a night together. he's long since being anyone's experiment, but with alex, unfortunately, henry finds he enjoys the idea of being some kind of first. (is 'only' too much to ask for?)

gynecologist henry

alex has done the college thing. the dream job thing. the casual, short term relationship thing. on paper, he has everything he ever said he wanted. it'd just be nice if he had someone to share it with sometimes. it'd be even nicer if his sister would stop trying to set him up with her gynecologist, who evidently finds himself in the same position.

+1 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry attends therapy in brooklyn once alex has moved in and things have slowed down a bit. it's predictably difficult but for the better, until they begin to cover the topic of his past relationships -- more specifically, sex. facing realizations that can no longer be shoved away, henry confides in alex and they reevaluate what intimacy might look like for them in the wake of healing from trauma.

+2 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry has to switch antidepressants and worries that his decreased libido will cause issues with his and alex's active sex life.

+3 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry arrives home early one night to find alex touching himself, which prompts a conversation about alex's past partners, misplaced shame, and self-pleasure within intimate relationships.

chauffeur alex

alex is the personal driver for henry, secret writer and infamous royal who'd abdicated and come to the states in his 20's to live freely and to marry his husband. now in his near-forties, the glamour and novelty of his story having long since worn off alongside his failing marriage, henry finds that alex is the only one he can confide in without fear -- and who is convinced that henry deserves so much more than he's getting. the last thing either of them need is to get feelings involved, but neither can say they tried as hard as they should've to have stopped them.

+

texan slang +1's

henry's been learning spanish already for the last few years in an effort to connect more with alex and his family. he did not, however, prepare for the myriad of texan-ism's that he encounters once they're back in austin, which is beginning to seem like a language all its own.

aftercare (+4 for the let's talk about sex! series)

neither alex nor henry have been in a serious relationship before and are unfamiliar with aftercare since it isn’t something they had with their previous partners. after a particularly intimate and intense round of lovemaking, they find themselves both feeling a little lost and restless, leading to a conversation about how they can best be there for each other after sex going forward. 

bottoming 101 (+5 for the let's talk about sex! series)

alex wants to bottom for the first time post-canon. henry walks him through the process—even the not-so-glamorous parts—and alex experiences a newfound appreciation for the previously unknown efforts that they go to to express their love.

dom bottom alex

self explanatory, really.

.

plus probably a lot of random ideas and/or add-on's to current series!

.

.

.

tags (no pressure!):

@kiwiana-writes @rmd-writes @everwitch-magiks @run-for-chamo-miles @firenati0n

@zwiazdziarka @miharaikko @littlemisskittentoes @judasofsuburbia @anchoredarchangel

@suseagull5914 @porcelainmortal @nocoastposts @clockwrkpendrxgon @sophie1973

@iboatedhere @getmehighonmagic @smc-27 @cha-melodius @tintagel-or-cockleshells

@caterpills @eusuntgratie @inexplicablymine @happiness-of-the-pursuit @sparklepocalypse

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @wordsofhoneydew @cricketnationrise @whimsymanaged @myheartalivewrites

@junebugclaremontdiaz @hypnostheory @blueeyedgrlwrites @futureseaempress @ninzied

@tinyarmedtrex @dizzymisslizzie @clottedcreamfudge @kj-bee @largepeachicedtea

@miss-minnelli @bananzie @starrypiscesao3 @fairflowered @4rthurfox

+ OPEN TAG please feel free to join in, and also if you're an artist feel free to modify it to include what art you're excited to make in 2025!

see you all soon! x

[absoluteocellibehavior]

THIS IS THE ONE I'VE BEEN WAITING FORRRRRR!!!

NOEL AS JUDGEMENT!! LET'S TALK ABOUT IT!! Ok, so Judgement is the second to last card in the major arcana. You are nearing completion with this card. Judgement is all about taking the past experiences you've had and moving forward positively with them. It's also about undergoing a period of healing from past negative experiences. Both of these Noel has going in spades. Noel's life has been less than easy. Hell, his life has been turmoil since the jump. Between losing his best friend in the war, to seeing the last remains of his private investigating partner ripped apart before his eyes, to being tortured by the King in Yellow for 10 years, Noel would have every reason to be cynical and hateful towards life. However, Noel is not this way. While his over-social tendencies could be argued as a part of Noel's persona of his best friend, it's very clear that Noel is a compassionate and caring person from how he treats Arthur and especially through how he treats John. He is using the hurt and pain from his past in order to move forward positively. In a more direct way, Noel in past had promised Lorick that he would help Arthur now in the present. So, that in of itself is using experiences in the past to proceed in the present. Noel is characterized as being quick witted, clear-thinking, and experienced which is why he is such an asset to Arthur and John.

Which is why his depiction in this is so tasty... <3

Take a look at him. Does he look certain to you? Does he look decisive to you? If you said no, then you're on the right track. Murky waters and foggy skies are clear indications in Reiki sessions that the person is feeling conflicted, confused, apprehensive, unclear, nervous, etc etc. Both of these are depicted in this card. Clouds appear the most in the Suit of Swords in the minor arcana which represent thoughts, intellect, and generally the Mind. When you have clouds, you have foggy/cloudy/unclear thinking. As another fun detail, clouds generally represent imagination, thoughts, and DREAMS! Yes, dreams! You know who else has a lot to do with dreams? Well, let's take a look at the water there. Water in tarot generally represents the emotions, intuition, and the subconscious. Yes, sure. Noel has been able to move on from the King in Yellow and has attempted to put together a resemblance of normalcy in his life afterwards in the City that Never Sleeps. But! But <3. Take a look at this quote from Season 4 Part 40 I:

Up until this point, Noel has been confident, guiding, and focused. However, when he is confronted head on with his past with the King in Yellow, all of that is lost. He becomes unsure, nervous, and irrational. He puts on a display of still being able to think clearly but it is obvious that he is not based on their encounter with the Grand Vizier. I do give him the credit that he becomes more confident later on, but we can't discredit how this is affecting him. That is why he see this in the card. He's focusing on the murky waters. He's focusing on the King in Yellow dipping into his subconscious with those tendrils closing in on him in the depths. That past coming back to haunt him. As we know in Part 40 II, The King in Yellow is able to take over Noel's weak subconscious at this moment and causes him to leap off of the balcony. He can't see the light of the Moon or the Sun. His trust that things will work out and his hope is slipping. He's wrapped up in the cloudy, murkiness that surrounds him.

Throughout this entire season, Arthur has eclipsed John shown by the Moon eclipsing the Sun here. It's an Arthur heavy season with Arthur growing and reaching out for allies and help beyond John. However, this also left John in the dark leading to some... unsavory decisions (*cough* *cough* nearly killing Oscar *cough*). However, Noel is the one that breaks that in this season. He talks directly to John. He makes John feel heard. To feel like a piece in things again. Most importantly, Noel forgives John in Part 40. While he doesn't have the knowledge that John was in the book while Noel was being tortured by the King in Yellow, Noel has an intimate understanding that John is something wholly his own and attempting to work towards good. You know what's another big association with Judgement? Mmhm. Forgiveness. Remember who is ultimately able to save Noel in Part 40? That's right. John. John is able to shine forth against Yellow and grab onto to Noel to pull him and Arthur back onto the balcony. He is able to shake Noel from this cloudy, dark thought and provide him with clarity. That's why you see that little shine of the Sun breaking forth from the Moon <3. However, the moment that Noel is able to gain his clarity and hope back... he's shot in the neck by Larson. As much as I want that star shape on his neck to be some sort of representation of Oscar... it's representing that impending shot to the neck (Potato Lord, when I get you! When I get you, Potato Lord- /ref).

LET'S GET BACK TO THE FUN STUFF BECAUSE I AM NOW SAD-

Color schemes, my dears. Color schemes. You notice that Arthur and John's cards are warm toned, while Noel's and Oscar's are cool toned? THAT'S RIGHT! JARTHUR AND HOLY GHOSTS!! However, you see their relationships, these color schemes tie those characters together. Arthur and John's ties are clear. Noel and Oscar are bound by their help that they provided for John and Arthur in addition to a popular thought that they two continue their work together after the events of Season Four. In addition to all of this, The Star, The Moon, The Sun, and Judgement are all cards that appear back to back. They are close to one another and therefore their meanings are in addition in relation to one another. The previous three seem clear but without the experience and delving into those three cards, you don't have the fullness of your past experiences to move forward or the reveling in how far you've come when reaching Judgement. Remember that the Major Arcana tells a story of the journey of the Fool, the first card. The cards echo the stories of the ones that come before them and influence the experience of the next. Those four are tied to one another. Oscar kick-starts Arthur's journey in Season Four. Noel is one of the last ones that Arthur is with at the end of Season Four. His... disappearance happens right before the completion of Season Four and the beginning of another arc. Remember how Judgement is the second to last card in the major arcana? Well, the card that comes next is The World. A completion. A finalization. A close. And then the narrative begins again with The Fool. Again with Faroe. Carrot and Stick, remember? One of the motivations for the search for the Black Stone in Season Five. This narrative has finished. And another one begins again…

From the top, shall we?

XX Judgement

Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see

[quitealotofsodapop]

Macaque WOULD be pissed. Moreso about the fact Wukong had known this whole time and not told him and instead had snuck it into his food like he's some sort of fussy kid who refused to eat his vegetables. He absolutely kicks his ass before pulling him into a bone crushing high because this here is actually proof his love had NEVER forgotten him and had been thinking of him this entire time even as he was lost to the perceived madness he had been in during the War.

Macaque: Why hadn't you TOLD me about this!?

Wukong: When I found out, it was right after that whole mess with Havoc. There was so much to still rebuild, and so many enemies lurking around corners. And with the Brotherhood it was just so dangerous that I didn't want you to have to worry about THIS on top of everything else and it was just plain too dangerous because what if Heaven found out about it!?

Macaque: *blinking because that is a LOT of fear and insecurity that Wukong had apparently been hiding for literal centuries* You're an idiot. So you burdened yourself with it instead!?

Prev.

Hehe. A core trait of Wukong: doing everything in the world for someone without being asked.

Not to mention, if Macaque was discovered to be "sickly" than it could have been used against him when he became a member of the Brotherhood and a partial ruler of FFM. Demons back in the day were a lot more ruthless toward their rivals, and Wukong didn't want his best friend and mate to face such discrimination.

In Wukong's mind; he would tell Macaque once they were in a safe, secure point in their lives after the war. But that didn't go exactly to plan...

It's not an excuse, esp if Macaque ever got super sick before they were on speaking terms again. But considering the monkeys were punching each other across the country a few months ago, it makes sense that Wukong dragged his feet on the issue.

Macaque def gets some clarity why he got sickly again during the Jttw era, esp when he was away from FFM. He had originally chalked it down to travel sickness, but now he has an explanation.

[pan-kojiwa]

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠?

𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 -> 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡.

CW: Sfw. (A little bit a tension)

WC: 2k

Waffle’s Note: Rin is aged up here, even this it’s not mentioned. It’s my first time ever writing for Rin so he might be a little ooc. A bit of self insert. Also you have a pet owl? Kinda proofread. (I literally had to stop cuz I kept changing/adding things)

You sigh, lost in your thoughts.

You and Itoshi Rin have been acquaintance for two years now. Yes acquaintances. It’s ridiculous right? You’ve been trying to convince him ever since but he just ignore you every time.

You two are friends— if not even best friends because clearly, if it wasn’t the case, how could he explain why ‘acquaintance’ are constantly glued together like you two? How could he explain how well you two know each others so well, to the point where he could see when you were faking a good mood? And come on now— what sensible person would crash at their acquaintance’s apartment out of the blue just to see their pet owl? 

Still, no matter what proof you could possible give him, he simply refused to acknowledge the truth. Yep. Even after two years of friendship—or should you say “acquaintanceship”, you still are a lukewarm nuisance.

Actually, he said pest at first… But you like to think of it as an auditory hallucination on your part. You know— for the sake of your ego.

To be fair, you do annoy him on a daily basis anyway, so you kinda see where he’s coming from. But whatever, he likes to yap about how much you annoy him but never takes action. That man loves your company.

You giggle, your eyes drifting to the ceiling, while your fingers idly tap one of your thigh. Lazily slumped on the couch you sink even deeper into it, your head resting against the armrest as you yawn. Yep, you’re bored.

Last week you needed cleaning supplies for your apartment. So you decided to go to the mall. But you don’t have a car. And you hate the lack of space and the pace of public transportation. So you asked you so generous and awesome friend that happens to have a car to drive you there. But of course he said no. You weren’t surprised though. That’s why you innocently mentioned needing to buy bedding and food for Hoo’ster your pet owl. And of course, as soon as you mentioned your pet, he changed his mind— begrudgingly but you didn’t care about that! 

Terrible mistake. Like people say karma’s a bitch, because you got yourself a ticket to a Friday movie night. Again. ‘Yaaay…’ You keep forgetting about the local video store on the way to mall, that for some reason, always have a display of their most recent arrival of horror movies. Seriously, how it’s only the horror section that gets displayed??

Oh, of course Rin immediately went to buy a copy. 

‘We’re watching in next Friday. You better show up.’ He said. You facepalmed.

A movement to your right jolted you out of your thoughts, making you turn your head. Rin, sitting beside you slightly shifted in his seat, slowly leaning forward. Eyes a little bit widened and the tip of his tongue sticking out. His head is even moving along with the scenes shown on the TV screen. 

You blink. ‘Wow…’ you were definitely used to this sight by now— yet you still look at him with the same fascination you’ve had over the year, dripping in your eyes.

The first time Rin invited you to watch a movie with him, you were ecstatic— well at least until you realised it was a horror movie. But anyway, at first you thought that he was finally warming up to you! You thought that you could ask him a bit more about himself and his hobbies! That you two could chat while watching the movie, even! Oh boy, how wrong were you. It’s also when.. you discover this— quirk, of his? You remember being a bit weirded out back then. You even tried to punch him. You know… to bring him back to reality.

Yet now…

Now, seeing him so fully immersed in the movie this way is… quite endearing.

“ - Rin?” You called out to him.

He doesn’t answer. 

… And that’s all you’ve been waiting for. The game begins.

In this game, you just need to shift Rin’s attention on you. Even if it’s for one second. The moment his eyes leave the screen, you win.

A cunning smile creeps up your face as you gently bite your index finger while trying to contain your excitement. When Rin is in this state, you can do pretty much anything you want to him and he won’t mind. Well not that he won’t mind— he’s just so focused on the movie that he’d basically ignore or let most of your shenanigans slide. 

It’s only fair anyway. Since Rin seems to have a passion in forcing you to watch movies that bore you to death, you’ll certainly enjoy your new passion: annoying the hell out of him when he’s hyper focused.

Of course at times it was pretty challenging, because the movies he chooses are generally pretty good, so nothing you did could really break his focus. But right now you’re confident. A gut feeling tells you that you can do it. 

You shifted on the couch straitening up yourself back into a sitting position. Your lips pressed together in a suppressed smile while your right hand discreetly makes its way to Rin's head, poking it.

“- Rinrin?” 

Of course he shows no reaction. You knew he wouldn’t. It takes more than that.

“- Rinrin~ I’m bored…” You say poking at his left cheek again and again.

“- Rin?” Poke. “- Riiin!” Poke. “- Rinrin.” Poke, poke.

Nothing.

Rin’s eyes are still glued to the screen. It’s as if nothing happened, like you’re not even here. Normally he’d have already smacked your hand away, scowling at you to stop that. But you refuse to let his lack of reaction stop you.

You raise your hand again, about to poke at his side, but he stops you before you can do it, simply grabbing your hand before placing it back on your lap.

‘Hehehe… it’s working’

You start to poke his side again, changing location often to avoid hurting him. And you even shamelessly move closer to him, little by little as you poke him. Until there’s no space left between you two. Then, you place your right hand on the back of his neck.

His head twitches slightly at the touch of your cold hand.

Now, now you just got a big reaction. A sly smile tugged at your lips.

Okay. So now you have to be careful, because breaking someone’s concentration could get them mad somtimes— like really mad. And in Rin’s case, it always result in a fight— not a physical on though. He would just spend days ignoring you, and you didn’t want that.

So to make sure that scenario doesn’t happen, you try to ease him a bit by gently rubbing his back. Your hand slipping further down tracing a line along his spine until you reach the small of his back, making him shiver.

You tilt your head a bit. It’s the first time he’s reacted like this— then again, it’s the first time you touch him like this… ‘Did that tickled?’ you ask yourself. 

Without pulling your hand off his back, you use your left hand to poke his shoulder repeatedly, letting it slide down to poke at his side again.

With a low rumble, Rin slaps your hand away. ‘Oh! There you go!’

You stare at him, trying to meet his eyes, but they’re still glued on the TV. It’s usually at times like this that he gets mad at you and demand you to stop. But right now he just slapped your hand away! You totally have a chance in winning! You almost want to get up and bounce around the room.

When you glance back at him, you immediately notice something. Something important. His tongue. He tucked it back into his mouth! Oh~ You are so winning this little game of yours! And for the first time ever!

Now, you just have to deliver the final strike.

 ‘A kiss on the cheek.’ You thought, internally cheering your victory already. 

You never kissed him on the cheek before— for obvious reasons, it’s Rin duh he won’t let you— so you’re hoping that this bold action would be enough to break the remaining bits of his already thinned concentration. So you went for it, placing just a little peck on his cheek.

But, the second your lips brushes his skin, he spins around, grabbing your arm with his left hand while shoving you a little bit roughly on the couch. You closed your eyes due to the impact.

When you open your eyes again, the first thing you see is Rin on top of you, pinning both of your hands above your head with his left hand, while supporting his weight with his other hand, placed right next to your shoulder. Suddenly, time freeze as you lay there, completely stunned. How are you supposed to react to what is just happening now?

‘What the hell is he doing??’

And what the hell is this situation? Rin Itoshi currently has you pinned down on the couch? This is completely new to you. Rin has never been like this— like grabbing you and shoving you against a wall to cage you between his arms? Never. Why would he even do that? Rin never really touch you. And if he does, it’s to push you away. So yeah, never. You almost thought he was playing a prank on you, for some reason. That is at least, until you meet his eyes.

His gaze on you is cold. Chilling you to the bone. Yet, you can feel the intensity of his stare burning a hole your face.

‘What—’ From then, you desperately try to look for a hint that he’s messing with you. You search desperately in his eyes some form of anger caused by your little game. In vain. There’s not a single drop of hostility or even his usual annoyance in his eyes. Just an intense and fiery gaze piercing through your defence, leaving you speechless.

You try to steady your breath as your eyes start to water from being open without blinking for too long. Your senses went numb yet at same time, you can still feel his hand slightly brushing against your shoulder, his knee pressed on your hip, and every single pore on your face, trying to regulate the rising temperature of your cheeks.

You can feel Rin’s shallow breath matching the rise and fall of your chest.

All the noise in the room disappear, filtered by the intensity of the moment. Your heartbeat is going crazy as he lets go of your hands, still staring you down. His, now, free hand makes its way to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb on your jawline.

He’s still looking at you, with the same burning intensity, which is now way too intense for you as time passes— intense to the point where you’re no longer able to withstand his gaze.

You avert your gaze, turning your head away from him. You feel dizzy, as if the room is spinning. Seeing your reaction, Rin’s hand slowly stoking your cheek, leaves abruptly, making your breath hitch. You got used to its warmth and now the cold sensation of its absence bites your cheek painfully.

You desperately want to say something. You want to ask Rin what has gotten into him, however the lump in your throat is forcing you into silence. It’s the first time that you’ve ever been this shy in front of him. But it’s also the first time that you can’t figure out what he’s thinking at all.

You just know that him pinning you under him this way, makes you feel so tiny— like a little mouse trapped in the paws of a cat. All you can do is to pray that he doesn’t eat you whole.

You finally muster up the courage to face him, turning back your head to face him. And right at that moment, you catch him staring at your lips. Your eyes widen instantly and your breath hitches. You try to say something. Anything. Yet nothing but a quiet squeak comes out, which makes him look back into your eyes.

Though, it’s too late. Your brain has already crashed.

You’re no longer present, well yes, you are because your body is here, but your mind? Long gone—literally evaporated.

Rin just looked at your lips…

You’ve never imagined yourself with him before. It never even crossed your mind once. He’s just a friend, that’s all he’s ever been to you. A friend— well okay a fucking good looking one. You can’t lie about that. And even if his personality can be quite the challenge, once you get to know him he’s not that hard to deal with. So… why does the idea of being in a romantic relationship with him doesn’t bother you at all? Like at all. If he asks you to go out on a date with him, like right now, you’d definitely accept right away.

Now that you think about it… since when did you even started to feel this way about him? Since when do you want to him to hug you and kiss you so badly?

And Rin? Does he feel the same way as you do? Does he feel something more than friendship for you. Is it for this very reason that constantly refuses your hugs and your affection? Was it why he looked at your lips?

As those questions swirl in your head, Rin gets up and turns off the TV, making is way to the kitchen. You bite the inside of your cheek, hearing him sigh softly while one of his hand runs through his hair.

“- Let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry.” He says.

You only nod, still a bit shaken up by what just happened.

In every movie nights, you’re in charge of the food. Rin tells you what he wants to eat and you either make it—when you feel like it, or you order it. But this time you didn’t even ask him what he wanted to eat. You can’t verbally face him yet, a ton of question still spinning in your head making it impossible to focus. Well, to be completely honest, you’re also being too shy to voice any of your questions. Which is really not like you.

Rin sits down on the dining table and looks at you briefly. It’s quiet. You’re quiet. Too quiet. You’ve never been this quiet ever with him, and that seems to bother him deeply. He tsk in annoyance, a frown tugging at his brows as he seats down at the dining table.

“- For someone who’s always pestering me, trying to get a reaction out of me, now that you’ve got it, you’re this quiet? How tepid.”

Your heart begins to race again as he brings up what has just happened. You never expected him to be the one to mention it first.

“ - I was just… It’s weird! You’ve never done that before, that’s why!” You blurt out defensively.

“ - Keep messing with me like that, and I’ll do it again.”

There’s a brief silence and you blink, processing what he’s just said. Did he just...? You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, well you were used to Rin being bossy— but not like this? Feeling more confident thanks to him, you smirk, your true self slowly coming back out.

“ - I’ll just have to get used to it.” You retort with a challenging tone.

Rin locks eyes with you, and for a brief moment, you spot that same intense look he had earlier when he pinned you down on the couch. And, just as quickly, his gaze shifts to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“ - I’ll just have to shut you up.”

Rin’s phone suddenly rings, cutting through the silent stare down, the building tension between you two had created. And not without glancing at you one last time, he gets up, heading out of the kitchen to answer the call.

You’re left sitting here, heart racing like a wild horse in your chest. A big but dumb grin plastered on your face, your cheeks and ears burning hot, as you couldn’t help but think out loud.

“ - Guess we’re still not friends then.”

GOD… this took longer than expected. I KEPT ADDING STUFF THATS WHY 😭 I yap a lot when i write. I swear it was supposed to be a 700/1K drabble . But anyways I really had fun writing this!! I Got inspired by my interaction with the Rins RP blog! (I love them so much! Shout out to the mods!) I might do one for Sae but Idk yet.

Well thank you if you read till here!

[dammit-tazmuir]

It's also coming from a Pyrrha who knew Wake died with a baby that Pyrrha believed for two decades was hers.

Hers or G1deon's, I guess, but honestly? G1deon was "legendarily unamorous", and coupled with Wake's "later I kissed him before I knew what you were", I personally get the impression G1deon was aroace-spec of a recipro-variety, where the sheer intensity of Wake's attraction and confidence with which she acted like they were already intimate sparked something in him. (Even then, I have to wonder if he might have been more chaste than Pyrrha?) Point is though, from Pyrrha's perspective, there'd be a solid case to see any conceived kid as still hers regardless of who was fronting, even if the body sharing wasn't already enough to nullify any distinction.

Pyrrha spent nineteen years grieving a child she thought was hers only to find out the kid was alive (and now isn't, but kind of is, but it's complicated) but not hers, but she's still Wake's child and that still means something. And also, far more than Pyrrha realized, this kid is the thing Wake died for. The thing she and G1deon were ordered to kill Wake for. The Bomb with which she'd wanted to damn near literally rig the universe to explode, that she was so determined to procure she grew it with her own body for nine grueling months. Gideon is the single most Landmine People thing Wake ever did incarnate.

And then when Pyrrha does meet her (but she's not who she thought, but also not as dead as she thought, but also holy shit she's WHAT now? and JOHN'S?) they get all of a few minutes to actually talk as they're trying not to die (again for real this time, or maybe worse in the River), and THEN, for all Pyrrha knows, she might have lost her AGAIN, IMMEDIATELY. And she spends six months "playing mother and father" to a kid who does not look like Wake and is not the young woman she so briefly met but may or may not have part of the same soul? And it turns out she doesn't (unless), and she loves Nona as Nona even when she grows to understand she's Alecto, but Gideon is still around and once again sporting that fiery red hair.

AND FROM GIDEON'S PERSPECTIVE...

:/ Some dead chick who apparently could hijack her necro's body used that to bang her mom (who was not only apparently a huge dick but managed to betray Gideon's trust beyond anything she could have ever imagined despite having been dead for all but one day of Gideon's entire life) and for some reason thinks that gives her any kind of connection to Gideon. Like, okay??? Even her mom didn't see her as a daughter, why the fuck is this bitch trying to all of a sudden? Plus she just got one new parent and frankly he kinda sucks but he's God and he actually makes her feel special and important. At least he didn't know she existed! Pyrrha can't say the same! Hell, Pyrrha basically killed Gideon once already (or might literally have but ya know, Jesus). And she wants to, what, just be buddy-buddy now? Because she had the hots for Gideon's mom? Shut the fuck up.

As we the audience sit recognizing how insanely good and healing for each other they could be if they really got the chance and not knowing for sure if they ever will. I hate it here.

the miscommunication between Pyrrha and Gideon is killing me. when Pyrrha brings up Wake, she is saying "your mother was important to me, I wanted to be someone important to you too. I still do". but Wake is a sore spot for Gideon! the very first thing we learn about her is that she loves her mother, she goes down to talk to her bones one last time. Gideon survived the Ninth believing that at least her mother loved her

and then she is proven wrong! Wake had her just to kill her, didn't even name her, instead calling her Bomb! she is mourning the idea of a mother and every time Pyrrha brings up fucking Wake, an awkward way to show she cares, it's just another reminder that her mother never loved her. I need to hug her so bad

[phightingheadcanons]

i compiled a bunch of subspace and medkit headcanons because they plague me. they plague me. they anyways . uhjjmmm subspace headcanons r. im not gonna lie i got some of these from deadplate. but. THERES!! a lot of these. be prepared 1. I don't think he can eat properly. Not only because of the rot, but because not being able to taste things irks him, so he has to make a smoothie out of it 2. I thuuink i think he already. was struggling with an ED before the disaster. and not being able to taste/the rot makes it. way worse 3. I think! I think he has bipolar and audhd. 4. He keeps his hair short on the side of the rot so it doesn't irritate it 5. hes. extremely touchy. not to be affectionate. he's just always in peoples personal space 6. Often chews on his fingernails and/or picks at his skin. bad habit of his methinks 7. i think he listens to like. metal. specifically freak on a leash and rotting in vain by korn really reminds me of him 8. scarring and burns. like. everywhere. coupled with the rot obviously. i think in his line of work he gets injuries pretty easily even when trying to be careful 9. EXTREMELY tone deaf. but also sometimes ignores social cues on purpose because he knows it annoys people 10. hates the rain. he hates the sound of it. he hates the water. it ruins his day. heres medkits ... 1. Also can't eat very well but its mostly from. after the disaster. he completely lost his appetite and also lost a lot of weight just because it was. really hard for him to find the energy to even get up let alone eat 2. generally kind of. not able to take care of himself very well. even if he can take care of others 3. extremely depressed. like. really bad seasonal depression + chronic (it gets worse when he sees snow though. reminds him of blackrock) 4. during his blackrock days he would straighten his hair. he can't afford to do that now though because its too expensive + too much energy 5. god AWFUL doctors handwriting. scythe hates it. nobody can fucking read it except for medkit 6. He has generalized anxiety, depression, and PTSD, as well as autism 7. hates being touched except for in very specific situations. he also hates being close (physically) to people 8. adding onto the last one, he HATES when people touch his back or his shoulders. IMMEDIATE fight or flight response 9. extremely bad posture. shrimp posture. im telling u 10. painted his horns teal because they were originally green. he doesn't like the color green very much. nor does he like that pinkish-red color (reminds him of subspace) 11. (somewhat canon? not the indie part) usually likes classical music. sometimes dabbles in indie music. he's not into the loud shit 12. violin and piano player .... 13. tried to sand down his fangs at one point. why? i dont know! 14. his sarcasm is crazy. if he's not being sarcastic its not him 15. loves the rain. he likes the quiet and being alone but when it's deathly silent it spikes his anxiety. so the background noise is nice. it also means he has an excuse to stay inside AND!! combined headcanons. things i have that i hc for. both of them 1. both of them have hand tremors. subspace's are a little worse though 2. even though they both have separated (and medkit really tries to stay away) they both still have habits that they got used to from being around the other. medkit still makes extra of things by accident because subspace would always steal it. subspace still keeps a blanket in the lab because medkit would always fall asleep at the desk. i could keep going on im so serious. they are so horribly intertwined in the worst way possible and even if they hate each other that red string is still there. its still there. do u get it. in this essay i will- anyways! thats it for today. sorry guys i needed to YAP

"Looking. Respectfully. Peak as always. This fits them so well that I can't even explain. I would yap more, but I'm tired, and my shoulder hurts from a shot I had recently, so another time TwT"

[deluluass]

Reception: Squid Game AU

Content warnings: rape/noncon; canon typical violence; pregnant sex; mommy kink (kinda?)

[ANON PROMPT: The dynamic between player 388 and 322—the former protecting naive vulnerable pregnant you in the games, thinking of him as your reliable “brother” but unfortunately, he wants something more between you two.]

"What- what if," you choke. "What if they make us kill each other?"

Thick layers of tulle burn against your scabbed knees. The gown isn't made of starchy fabric, like the ones they sell at the flea market for half a price because it tends to itch anyway, but it still stings every time you move and graze your barely healed wounds. So you don't.

You sit still, not even letting your spine touch the wooden vines intricately carved on the back of the chair. The delicate cream lace spanning along your chest to your wrists might as well have been worn by a corpse for all the breathing that you do. 

You don't even touch your food.

Bokuto, on the other hand, is ravenous. 

Sitting on the opposite side of the long table, he tears through chicken leg, then venison, then the boiled potatoes. He chews and chews and washes it all down with wine, chugging noisily as it drips past the edge of his mouth.  

"They won't," he finally replies before wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You pass him your table napkin even though he's yet to use his, absently reminding him to keep his elbows off the table unless he wants ragu all over his suit.

He follows you, but not without a toothy beam and a, "Seriously, trust your big bro, 'kay? This is our last meal in this hell hole, so just relax– relax ! And eat!"

Big bro . You snort. He really knows how to lighten the mood, this guy. 

"Alright," you sigh, not quite slouching. "What do they want us to do then?"

"What they want?" Bokuto tilts his head, like he's really thinking about it, as he picks at his molars with the tip of his tongue. "Well, they wanna be entertained."

It was a rhetorical question. You don't tell him that. You'd long lost the urge to actually ask him how he knows what he knows about the games, having learned much earlier that it's better to just shut up and do what he says, because between the two– asking or following, that has been the only choice that has kept you alive.

You didn't ask why he had to stop you from picking the pyramid. You didn't ask why he had   to make you hide and sleep under his bunker at night. And you certainly didn't ask why he had to bash that man's head when he could've just easily pushed him out of the door.

Repeatedly. As if that first one didn't already do that man in. Smack, smack, smack, until he'd sprayed blood and bits of white-pink flesh onto the cheery, lemonade walls. 

He could say that the man wouldn't have left on his own, even though you both heard the room next to yours desperately searching and shrieking for another player to meet the count. He could even say that he'd done it because the man had grabbed and tried to drag you out first, that if it hadn't been him then it would've been you: you and your bits all over those walls, but, still, why –

"Hey."

You look up. 

Bokuto was staring at you. Irises ablaze, cheery lemonade under the crystal chandelier. 

“Eat,” he says, eyes smiling, all teeth, blood splattered lemons. “You hafta eat.”  

Holding your utensils with trembling fingers, “Junior’s havin’ a tantrum in there,” Bokuto suddenly taunts, pointing at your stomach with a parfait spoon. 

Your jaw drops. 

To hell with your anxiety. You prioritize making a face at him.  

“ Mommy, mommy ,” he cries in response, cackling, pitching his voice up and making you groan. “ Stop being so stubborn! I’m so sick of the rice balls! I want ham now! Waaa! Ham!”

“Idiot.” You grin through the first bites of pasta. “She could be a girl.”

“Then hurry up ‘n eat!” Bokuto slams his fist on the table. “Eat so we can scram outta here. Baby girl has got a princess' life to live!” 

Glass and ceramics clatter, prompting the masked guards to bark a warning. Both of you stifle a chortle, leaning forward into each other and shifting in your seats like reprimanded fourth graders.

You finish your plate one morsel at a time, rubbing your bump as you do. It’s paste and wet scrap paper in your mouth, but you force yourself to swallow. He wouldn't stop looking at you if you didn't. He was right anyway. You do need to be more mindful of the baby, especially after everything you've been through.

Then, reaching for your drink, the folded napkin next to your plate glints. You gnash your teeth. That's why you’d asked him. Because if you weren't there to shove that thing at each other’s necks, then what in the world were you supposed to do now? 

Just…eat?

“Bo-kun,” you mutter. He pauses from scraping vanilla out of a crystal bowl. “They gave us a knife, you know.”

“Hm?” 

You know he heard you. 

“A knife. We both have a knife.”

“So what?” The thin stem of his spoon clangs with a bite. 

Same set of teeth that could rip and spit out a grown man’s ear like watermelon seed. It was dark and the lights were flashing, but you saw . 

“Hm? You gonna kill me?” 

Stocky gray brows clash in confusion. You think that this is the last thing field mice see when they come into contact with a barn owl. He pops the strawberry in his mouth.

And before you know it, he blurs out of view, and you sniffle and feel the overwhelming need to hide your face.

Bokuto leaves his seat. The guards close in on him.

“Shit, hey, man, look– I’m not doin’ anything funny– look , I’m not– fuck .” He goes around the table to your side, panting slightly as he bends down and props his hand on his thighs.

“Hey, don't cry, don't cry,” he murmurs softly. “I’m sorry, got my foot stuck in my mouth. You know your big bro. I’m a freakin’ airhead, yeah? I was being a fool, shoulda been more sensitive given your- you know-” drawing an imaginary (far too large) arch over his tummy, “-situation.”

Your sobs stumble into giggles. He drops to his knee, the other supporting his arm, as he sighs and glides a large hand over his gel-slick hair. Bokuto shakes his head.

There was once a time in your life when you would’ve given everything in the world just to see something like this. Be in something like this. Praying for your ex to, one day, come home and finally– after all that you’d sacrificed for him, offer this to you.

Man in a dapper suit on bended knee. The pretty white gown. Food that only the rich people in your phone could indulge in. Hundreds of roses in full bloom that it boggles the mind.

Life has a way of giving you what you want: wrapped and tied with a big, fat knee-slapper. 

Well, whatever happens now, it finally got the reaction that it’s been asking for. 

You laugh. 

“Gosh.” You wipe your tears. “We look so weird. Is that the game? Eat while looking like.. like this without breaking. In that case, we lost, Bo-kun.”

He doesn't seem to agree. And he's not laughing with you now.

You don't know if you like that he’s not. It doesn't look right. He even laughs with his thumbs pressed to a living, breathing human being’s sockets.

“I’m not with you on that one.” Bokuto shrugs. “I think you look beautiful.”

“Ugh, don’t make me cry again.”

“Wha- at ? It's true.”

He’s still kneeling. The idiot.

“You too,” you sniff, hand out to fix his bow. “You look beautiful too.”

You feel your smile wobble. Now, he's the one who’s on the verge of tears, but the moment is interrupted by the sudden glow of the tile under his oxfords.

Heart in your throat, you watch wordlessly as the one behind it follows. Then another. And another. Once translucent, some of the tiles now form a warm orange path leading to a–

“That a pond ?” Bokuto chirps.

This is it. The guards start to flank you. Bokuto helps you stand. Warm hand spans your waist, guiding you to your destination. 

This is it, you believe. This is where you die.

The baby.

You halt. “It's okay,” Bokuto whispers. “I’m with you.”

The path does not lead you to another arena. 

There, water trickles. Out of nowhere, unseen strings play a sweet, languorous melody. 

Light shines down on the middle of the pond, revealing a broad, rounded grassy meadow. Flowers, real ones, have sprung along its circumference, almost like it's a fancy cake. 

All that's missing are the–

Beside you, Bokuto takes off his dress shoes. You’re about to ask him what he's doing but seeing the couple of feet going to the center, you remove yours too. 

The pond is nice and cool when you dip into it. Tiny fishes brush your ankles as you wade through the water. You carry the skirt to your calves, tail end still managing to get soaked, while Bokuto holds you close all throughout.

You land on a marshmallow field. The grass is plush, and you try your best not to give in to the temptation of just lying down, wiggling your toes through the trim, pillowy blades instead. The light pulls your eyes to the ceiling.

You gasp.

They’ve poked a massive hole through it. Above your heads, wispy clouds drift along the bright, open sky. There are migratory birds forming a V in the distance. 

“Bo-kun, look…!” 

You twine your fingers together, pulling him to you. His are much longer, firmer than yours. 

He is looking. Just not in the same direction as you.

When you meet his gaze, neither one of you could have prevented the other from being reduced into tearful, boisterous laughter. The music rises higher and higher, like those birds flying out of reach, and you recognize it as the same one folks usually play when the bride marches down the aisle.

“I guess… we dance?”

Bokuto whistles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He is warm, Bokuto. If you could make a home out of this, you would. He spins you around, gently, causing you to wheeze. “You’re such a sap,” you tell him with a grin.

“Mhm”

A syrupy kind of ache seeps from deep within you as he sways you in his arms. Treacly sugar and cloying, like the junk you’d stuff into your mouth when you were a kid and making silver bands out of soda pull-tabs; veils out of moth-eaten blankets. It gathers at the bottom of your heart, sticking to its fragile walls and reminding you that there’d been nothing worthwhile to fill it with ever since you turned your body into a work machine. 

Not until that day, sitting inside a cubicle that other women had also lined up for, as you stare at the test that’d come out with two, undeniable pink lines.

When the music fades, you convince yourself that it’s perfectly normal to be overtaken by panic. Because, what now? Is this the part where they blare their instructions through the intercom? What will it take? A knife? A shove? The one that falls off the edge dies and the last one standing wins? What ? 

You search for the guards, only to find them at the edges of the room, shrouded in darkness.

“Bokuto Kotaro,” you gasp. “That- that is your actual name, right?”

He looks at you like you’ve sprouted another leg. But, picking up on the hurried cadence of your voice, he says nothing and runs a comforting palm on your back. His gaze softens, before stooping down to touch your forehead with his.

Your eyes flutter close. 

“I would never lie to you,” he answers. 

You nod. 

His breath scorches to the point of being feverish. Worry besets you when he suddenly releases a stabbed groan, thinking maybe he’d been sick this whole time and just didn’t tell you.

“Are you okay? Bo-kun, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“S’nothing,” he rumbles, leaving a brief, soft peck on your cheek. 

Your breath hitches. 

Then, he goes for your lips. 

“What the hell–” you cry, turning away, but he manages to capture it in his, molding them together, moaning at your taste. You feel it reverberate inside the caverns of your mouth. He glides his tongue inside, sliding over yours, and, not for the first time, you begin to wish that this is something that would be over if you could only just wake up . 

It doesn’t, however. And you don’t.

You stay here, in this moment, with Bokuto’s kisses trailing down your neck. He laps at your sweat, then traces the tender spot that makes you gasp and buckle.

“H-hold on, Bo-kun– wait– Bokuto, stop…! ”

You wriggle out of his arms. He grabs tighter. 

“Shh, shh , it’s what they want,” Bokuto murmurs, the bridge of his nose nudging your chin. “They want a good show. We gotta give it to ‘em. Gotta get outta here.”

To your horror, the man has already bunched your gown in his hands. You feel a squall trapped in your throat as the calloused tips of his fingers move, creeping like vines between your legs.

“No, no, no, please– ”

He touches you through your cotton panties, rubbing your clit as something hot and hard bump against your leg. “This won't take long,” he grunts. “Been like this ever since you came out lookin’ like that. So lovely. My lovely, lovely wife.”

You’re brought down to the grass, carefully, even with all your pleading and squirming. Tulle piles at your waist like a cloud as Bokuto sets you on your side. He’s spooning you, one large arm trapped underneath your torso, supporting your head, as he bucks his cock between your ass and rambles madly into your ear.

“We’ll get hitched for real after this, alright? Take care of you– Gonna make more so they're not lonely– Won’t ever, ever leave you like that motherfucker , you hear me, darlin’? This one's mine now too, got it?”

He’s grasping softly at your bump like somebody might steal it from him. Your child. Your baby.

You shake your head, sobbing, but he doesn't hear you, too rapt picking at the lace covering your chest with his other hand. Without a warning, he rips it apart.

The air is ice cold on your breasts. You hiss out in pain. 

Bokuto guffaws. “ Fuck me. ”

He cups them slowly, his heated, wet gasp hitting your nape. Goosebumps rise all over skin. He’s giggling like a child, and you have never feared him more in your life.

“They're really swollen, aren't they?”

You whimper, pushing your ass back into his cock in surprise, the hardened thickness of it rubbing snugly into your clothed pussy. Layers of fabric separate you from each other, but you realize, terrified, that the gusset of your panties are now becoming wetter, and wetter, as he groans and grinds his hips, calling you sweetheart, darlin’, baby . Saying please as if he's not already taking from you. 

He brushes your nipples with his fingers. You claw at his wrists, fingers digging into his corded by veins, but he doesn't even budge. 

“Bo– too much– ”

You wail as he starts tweaking them. It zaps through your entire body. Live current straight to your core, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and drowning the world in white. You think you’ve kicked his shins. That only makes him gyrate more fervently into your cunt.

“Fuck, these tits ,” he sucks in, practically inhaling your cheek. “These perfect fuckin’ tits. I dreamt about ‘em the moment I laid eyes– Oh my god, I wanted to grab ‘em so fuckin’ bad. Could see your nipples poking through in this dress- almost went nuts–”

Bokuto squeezes them together, sluggish and deliberate, oohing and aahing as he kneads them apart, then squeezes them together, and pinches your nipples. You don't know if he's being mindful or if he wants to savor your humiliation at being manhandled. With him, it's probably both. 

“Can't wait till they get so heavy with milk– Gonna help you– Gonna suck it out for you like a good husband should– I can't wait anymore–”

Zipper comes undone behind you. 

You thrash out. Bokuto tuts as he pins you to him. 

“Careful, mommy,” he coos, his fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. “Don't move too much. Don't wanna hurt you.”

The tip of his cock stretches your pussy lips, fat head dripping, sliding back and forth into your hole. 

“Oh…! Bokuto, no, no..!” He pushes in and you already feel like bursting. His thrusts start shallow, not even shoving half of him, but then they stop staying shallow, and you cringe as you feel him edging close inside. “Not too deep p-please, please, the baby– not too deep not too deep not–”

You’re bawling, almost tasting your snot as you grasp at his arms, and all he does is laugh .

“M’sorry. Too big? You're alright. Won't go too deep. Promise.” 

He does keep his promise in the end, oscillating between “ please, please, wanna fuck you so bad” and “can't, can't, can't ” until he's growling nonsense; until he's no longer recognizable from the man who’d called himself your big brother, his hold on you dangerously close to choking you into unconsciousness. 

“ You feel so fuckin’ good, ” he mumbles fervently as he twitches inside you. “ So fuckin’ good you're such a good mommy we’re gonna be mommy ‘n daddy soon I love you so much I love you I love you I love you– ”

The pressure builds like water– the higher it rises the faster you sink, as you spasm and contract around him, then falling apart in the dark without a single sound. 

You finally open your eyes as you feel him shoot thick ropes inside you. Bokuto thrusts his cum, making sure it doesn't spill out, he says, and you turn to the sky. 

It's gotten dimmer, you think. 

Wispy clouds drift along. Migratory birds flying into a V in the distance. And you wonder if god has many faces, and if, maybe, they're all grinning down at you.

  –

The first game ends with a card.

Bokuto buys everything he’s ever wanted. He dines at the places where everything’s pint sized and complicated to eat. He gets fast cars and even faster motorbikes that almost kill him. He gets himself limited edition sneakers. He gets himself a model and a stripper and an actress and someone who's all three.

He goes around the world and dives out of a moving plane and does everything that makes his blood sing, then he comes back home and he buys himself a place that has a pool and a jacuzzi and a court and a private theater and a game room and when he's alone at night he thinks about the people he stole it all from and he throws up in his big, big, brand spanking new house. 

  –

The second game ends with an invitation given to him in the limo going back, which he turns down because, “ Your mask is creepy, dude. I’m not wearing that .”

He doesn't know why he came back, even when he finds out, eventually, why they allowed him to. The last dinner was shared between Bokuto and two other people– a man and a woman, both older than him, both ex-military. It gargles out of them, after Bokuto has them under his knees, that they've been here before too, just like him.

Their audience is getting bored, Bokuto figures. 

He returns to that big, empty house wealthier than before and with a clearer idea on what he wants to buy next. 

He may know jack shit about the specifics of putting his money into things that can double it, but Bokuto knows a lot about deals. He knows how to smile at the people that look at him and only see another set of limbs that’ll keep their plates full. The rooms may be different this time around, nicer and with a lot less killing, but it's all still the same game. He knows about luck and getting a crowd going and most of all he knows a lot about hunger. 

So he gets himself a seat at the tables that he never even would’ve been allowed to get close to all those years ago. He gets himself teams that have molded their bodies into playing games, big ones where luck and crowds and hunger flow like blood off gutted arteries. And he doesn't really have to, but he gets and handpicks the players himself, because he knows best the kind of animal that possesses the audacity to stand in the middle of any court, any arena, any stadium, and bring its spectators– every last insatiable one of them, on their feet.

And as he watches from the sidelines, he imagines a world where the circumstances are different and everything goes as planned and survival does not have to come at the cost of destroying yourself. And he imagines that in that world, it is him– Bokuto Kotaro, that hits the ball and makes the score and brings the crowd to its feet. 

  –

The third game ends with an encrusted ring in the pocket of his suit. 

It takes a couple more years until the audience gets bored again. He comes back mostly because, well, why not?  It's not so bad, playing.

The kicker this time around is that most, if not all, of the players are of the same breed as Bokuto– animals who have the strength to get whatever they want and the desire to get it however they want. 

Except for you.

You come waddling to Bokuto with your head down, hands over your belly, and jacket zipped up to your chin like a hen protecting herself from the cold. 

The cutest little thing to have ever existed.

You ask him if you could join Bokuto’s team because, of course, nobody wants you. The woman next to him– the first one who manages to put a scratch on Bokuto much later in the game, says that he shouldn't, because she could tell that you’re at least six weeks pregnant and you’ll hold them back and no good mother would ever put herself in this kind of situation in the first place. 

Bokuto keeps you anyway. 

Pregnant girl. All on her own. Nobody to rely on. Somebody’s gotta look out for you, he decides.

After that game, he knows that he made the right choice. You’ve got blisters on your palms from all the rope pulling and you’re thanking him for saving your life. He tells you not to sweat it, and to call him Bokuto from now on. 

You say, “Okay, Bo-kun,” while caressing your bump, pretty eyes begging him to protect you and guide you and put another one inside you, and that’s when it dawns on Bokuto–

He's the only thing standing between you and this world’s bottomless stomach. 

And ever since then Bokuto just couldn’t stop thinking, “ What will happen to you if he's no longer there?” So he runs faster, and strikes even harder, and, for the first time in a long while, he feels like all of this– running, hitting, staying alive – now, isn't it all just so much fun ?

Bokuto smiles at the memory as he fishes out the ring from his pocket, then tosses it to the other side of the pond.

“You’re not keeping it?” Game master guy’s words filter through his mask, stripping it of all feeling.

It kinda bums him out. For all he knows the dude might actually be sad that there's not going to be a fourth time.

“Not her type,” Bokuto tells him. “Diamond’s too freakin’ large, man. Could poke somebody's eyes out.”

He closes his fly, dusts off the blazer to cover you with it, then carries you in his arms. There's a ceaseless drumming in his chest that only gets louder seeing you sound asleep, tucked safely into his chest. He doesn't even bother with combing his hair.

The pink dudes have got their guns ready behind game master guy, index to the trigger. Bokuto wets his lips, and he doesn't miss the way they all flinch. 

“It's a shame, Player 388. Our valued guests were looking forward to your proposal.” 

That makes him snort. “Tell ‘em I said sorry.”

“Quite unnecessary,” he says. “We should be thanking you. You always deliver.” 

“Yeah, well, not really hard to put two and two together.” 

Fancy ring. Suit. Gown that still gives him a boner looking at you in it. Bokuto might be a genius.

The pond soaks his slacks again as he walks through it. He frowns. You won't like that. Bokuto ignores his socks since Game master guy accidentally kicked the other pair into the water with his big feet. Bokuto wears his shoes without them, itching for a shower that’ll scald the grime off of him. And you. 

A nice, hot shower with you. Now, that's heaven–

Game master guy doesn't move out of the way, though. He doesn't budge even as Bokuto very politely says, “‘Scuse.”

Bokuto then looks at him. He looks and he laughs. And he dares them.

He stands there with the mother of his children in his arms and begs, “Go on. Do something fuckin’ funny .”

They part for him. 

“The offer still stands,” comes from Game master guy.

“Dude,” Bokuto whines, not even looking back. “Just tell me you’ll miss me like a normal person!” 

    –

The house feels warmer when he returns. It feels smaller, too, which he does not mind at all, especially now that there's a happy family of three to fill it.