#i think it’s gonna be on loop this is not looking good for my future

[pebblezone]

The Beach Boys Love You (1977) is such a questionable album I mean it’s barely even a Beach Boys album based on who contributes what but she’s so silly to me ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[narnian-neverlander]

For You, Always [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.” He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Word Count: 4,7k

Warnings: slight angst, self-worth issues (both of them need a freaking hug), internalized ableism, talk about a non-consensual relationship (nothing explicit/graphic or sexual, but reader’s ex is clearly an abusive, ableist pos)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: Jayce is playing matchmaker, because both Viktor and the Reader have such bad self-worth issues, they’re not gonna get anywhere unless he whacks them over the head with his hammer

“According to Mel, he is an absolute ass, but unfortunately one of the most influential people in Piltover, so—“

“Unfortunately, he’s also kinda, sorta my ex…” you mumble into the rim of your glass, interrupting Jayce and it is comical, cartoonish almost, how his head turns to look at you so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap. Not to mention Viktor accompanying his reaction perfectly by choking on his own drink. You watch Jayce open and close his mouth several times until he finally settles on: “That guy? Seriously? Didn’t think that was your type…”

He casts an incredibly unsubtle, overly obvious glance over at Viktor as he says this and you would’ve loved to strangle him for it; thankfully the man in question is too busy coughing up fancy champagne to notice, he does however manage to get out a “Oh please tell me you lost a bet.”

Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you shake your head. “Gods, I wish. Just… young and stupid and naive and always too eager to please and — and he’s coming this way. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” You all but flee the scene about to unfold, grabbing another glass off a passing waiter’s tray as you make a break for the nearest balcony. Your friends watch you disappear into the crowd with worried frowns; Jayce’s statement of “Probably a pretty bad breakup…” getting answered with an eye roll and a heavily sarcastic “You think so? I never would have guessed.”

The next hours are spent hopping from hiding spot to hiding spot, snatching drinks and snacks off trays whenever you manage while keeping an eye out for your personified worst nightmare. By some godly miracle you manage to utterly avoid the man and the next familiar face you spot when you dare venture back into the crowds is the Man of Progress himself, surrounded by nobles and merchants alike, polite smile on his face as he makes conversation. A polite, fake smile in danger of slipping that you spot from a mile away. Catching a glimpse of the band getting ready to strike up another song, you decide to be merciful and rescue him. It’s not entirely selfless though, as you figure if the asshole does end up spotting you, watching you dance with Piltover’s very own golden boy might be a good enough repellant.

“Excuse me, Mr. Talis?” Relief floods his features as he turns around to find you right behind him, having shoved your way through the circle of admirers. “I hate to interrupt, but you did promise me a dance. You’re not the kind of man to go back on his word are you?” Voice all sweet and coy and honeyed, batting your lashes at him; the picture perfect flirt making starry eyes at the man leading the city of progress into a brighter future. And it takes all he has not to burst out laughing, because he’s seen this from you before, except it’s usually not him on the receiving end of it, but his partner. It is charming, endearing even, he will admit. No wonder Viktor can never say no to you when you look at him like that. And right now he’s beyond elated you’ve decided to play his saving grace for some reason, so he wouldn’t even dream of turning you down.

“Of course not. If you’ll excuse me.” he states, ignoring any protests from bystanders and guides you to the dance floor with a hand on the small of your back. He leads you into a waltz and waits until you’re swallowed by dancing couples until he lets his face drop into an exhausted grimace. “Oh sweet Gods, thank you. Anymore of that and I would’ve driven the cocktail sticks into my ears.”

“You’re welcome. How did you even end up like that, though? Where’s your better half? He’s usually pretty capable of getting you both out of situations like that.” He sends you a knowing grin as he spins you. “Oh so you think he’s the better half? Ouch.” It earns him an eye roll, but you’re smiling nonetheless. “Like you don’t know I have a favorite. Now answer the question, golden boy.” There’s hesitation before he answers with, “He went home for the evening.” and you almost fumble your next steps. “Excuse me? The bastard begged me to come along for weeks and now he just ditches? The only reason I agreed to come was because he actually promised me a dance.”

Jayce hems and haws and you’re ridiculously close to intentionally stomping on his foot to get him to cough up an explanation; luckily for him he manages in time. “No, no, it’s more like… I sent him home cause if he would’ve had to be in the same room as your ex any longer, I was genuinely afraid he’d take the guy’s head off with his cane.” The laugh that bubbles up from your throat is joyful and real; Jayce has always been good at defusing your irritation with humor. It takes another few seconds and another look at his face to realize that he’s dead serious and your laughter dies on your tongue, leaving behind the taste of ashes. “You can’t be— He— What?! I left you guys for two hours max!”

“Yeah, well…” he starts as he dips you, “your ex has a way of getting under people’s skin.” No shit. But you’d honestly thought Viktor was above it. “What did the asshole do? Dismiss Hextech as an obsolete fantasy?” Shaking his head, he leads you into another turn. “No, quite the opposite, actually. He was incredibly interested, but his demands for becoming a sponsor were ludicrous, to put it mildly. Final say in the direction of Hextech, majority of the shares, unrestricted access to all stages of development and… you.” This time, you do stumble over your own feet in shock, falling straight into his chest. “Pardon?!”

The poor man looks as uncomfortable as you feel as he explains. “Apparently he saw the three of us talking earlier and one thing led to another and— fuck, I don’t know what happened between you, but that man is absolutely not over you. For some reason that is entirely beyond me, he was under the impression that because we’re friends we’d somehow be able to coerce you into being with him again. And the way he was talking about you? Gods, it made me wanna punch him in the face; it was so utterly vile I can’t even repeat it. Scratch that, I just really don’t want to.” All things considered, you’re glad for his hands steadying you, cause the room’s spinning even without the dance you’re still enagaged in and you feel like you’re gonna loose all the fancy hors-d’oeuvres from earlier on the polished marble floor any second now. “Great. Lovely. Perfect. And how exactly does Viktor fit into this now?”

He sighs. “Honestly, I can’t repeat what he said either.” This seems to ground your spiraling for a moment and you cock a brow at him. “Are you kidding? He’s usually pretty eloquent.” To say you’re surprised when he snorts in amusement would be an understatement. “I mean I literally can’t repeat it, because he was so utterly livid, he slipped into his mother tongue and while I can’t be sure, it didn’t exactly sound like he was complimenting the guy.”

Finally all the pieces click into place and when they do, you slow your steps to a stop and blink up at your friend owlishly. “He… Viktor got upset on my behalf?” The way he so openly laughs at you makes your ears burn and your fist connects with his chest in a halfhearted punch. “I don’t see what’s so funny about that!” Catching your hand as you ready yourself for another swing, this time aimed at his stupid, handsome face, he reigns in his laughter and simply smiles at you; not mean spirited or teasing, but shockingly gentle and sweet. “You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?”

The anger and embarrassment in your veins all but evaporates, replaced by something soft and warm; heat gathering at the back of your neck and the balls of your cheeks for an entirely different reason now. Your mouth drops open as you try to formulate some sort of response, only to fail miserably; incoherent stuttering and beginnings of words the only thing you manage to produce. The music finally fades out and is replaced by applause for the band as your friend chuckles and inclines his head towards the door. “You should go talk to him.” A glance over his shoulder shows you the gaggle of potential investors you’d saved him from earlier already making their way towards you again. “And you’ll survive if I leave you alone with these people?” An overly dramatic sigh is your answer. “I’ll gladly sacrifice myself for your happiness.” The ‘my hero’ he gets in return is dripping with sarcasm as he winks at you and makes a shooing motion towards the exit, then turns around to head back into the fray, giving you a clean escape.

Freezing winter air hits you as you exit the venue; bitingly cold but a welcome change from the sweltering warmth of the gala nonetheless. Starting left, you catch yourself after only a few steps to reconsider. Left would be Viktor’s apartment. Right would be the lab. You know him better than that, don’t you? So you change directions, readjusting your scarf over your nose. It’s a relatively short distance to the academy, even so your fingers are starting to go numb when you reach one of the big, heavy doors leading inside. The hallowed halls are quiet and dark, making the high ceilings and ornate walls seem even more imposing than usual as you make your way towards the lab with hurried steps. It all feels like you’re doing something illegal - or maybe it would, if all the security guards hadn’t seen you hang around the two Hextech pioneers often enough for you to know all their names by heart at this point. Arriving at the lab, first glance tells you it’s as empty as the rest of the building. Except for the tiny sliver of light peeking out from under the door. Bingo.

You gingerly, quietly press down on the handle, not wanting to involuntarily startle the man you know to be inside, just in case he’s handling something explosive. One experience like that had been enough to last you a lifetime. You’re in luck, as you instead find him hunched over one of the desks, furiously scribbling notes onto various scattered pieces of paper, muttering under his breath. The small lamp at his side casts deep shadows across his face, but you’re still able to make out the frown; thick eyebrows drawn together in irritation and lips pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t possibly still be upset about what happened at the gala, could he? No, impossible. Preposterous. Idiotic. He’s hit a roadblock in his equations, that had to be it. But seeing as you’re not in any danger of accidentally causing him to blow you both to pieces you make your presence known to him.

“I do believe Jayce told you to go home, didn’t he?” Viktor almost drops his pen in alarm, swiveling around on his stool to find you have sidled up to him, leaning against the desk, in the process of ridding yourself of your coat and scarf, an amused grin on your lips. He puts a hand over his racing heart, as he says “And a heart attack is a fitting reprimand for my crime in your eyes, yes?” You only raise your brows in return, smile slipping from your face, disapproval obvious in your eyes as they flit towards the clock in the corner of the room for just a second; it’s the same look he always gets from you when he’s working when he clearly shouldn’t be. Running a hand through his already messy, chestnut hair, he shrugs. “I simply didn’t feel particularly tired when I left.”

“So I’ve heard.” you muse and pick up a random cogwheel from the table to fiddle with. “Apparently you had some… disagreements with a potential investor?” He clicks his tongue in annoyance and all but chucks the pen still in his hand across the desk. “Potential investor, don’t make me laugh. That appalling, pathetic excuse of a man shouldn’t be allowed in a five mile radius of anything Hextech. Or a five mile radius of you, for that matter.” Humming in both agreement and intrigue, you continue with what’s really been eating you up. “Jayce said you hit him with some choice words. Mind repeating those for me?” A sideways glance your way to confirm you’re certain and then he launches into a repeat of his rant from earlier that evening. He gets about three or four words into it before you throw the cogwheel at him; it bounces off his shoulder and lands on the floor with a ping. “Oh someone thinks he’s particularly funny tonight. In a language I understand, maybe?” Try as he might to hide it, you catch the corners of his mouth tugging upward slightly. “That’s not what you asked of me, though.” Know-it-all bastard.

“Oh how dare you?” Hopping up on the table for additional theatrics, you grip your chest in mock offense and throw your head back dramatically. “Here I am, having braved a journey of freezing winds and complete darkness, to bestow my thanks upon you and you don’t even have the courtesy to thrill me with a retelling of your courageous deeds. Disappointing, truly.” A pointed cough into his fist does little to hide the laugh at your antics. “Please, the venue is a ten minute walk from here and all the streets are lined with lanterns. You’ll need to try a little harder, miláčku.”

Huffing, you run a hand over your face, desperately trying to hide how much the nickname affects you and give you a second to think. Your salvation stares at you from the other end of the lab, the golden horn of the phonograph glinting in the light of the moon that filters through the windows. And he immediately knows he won’t like what comes out of your mouth next, with the way your eyes flash and your lips curl in an absolutely wicked smile. “Well you see, I still haven’t been paid for tonight.” Confusion is clear as day in both his face and his voice. “I do not recall discussing payment for your participation in the gala…?”

“Oh but we did!” you giggle as you hook your foot around the center of his roller stool to drag him closer, very much enjoying the look of utter shock on his face and the slight graze of his hands on the sides of your things as they land on the desk next to you to try and regain his balance. “A certain someone promised to dance with me if I showed up. Guess who ditched before he made good on that?” At least he has the courtesy to look sheepish, a little knowing ‘Ah…’ sound escaping him as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck and drops his gaze to his lap. With how the night had gone, he’d genuinely forgotten all about it. And before the night had even started he’d hoped you’d forget. He really should’ve known better. A finger enters his field of vision to poke him in the chest. “You’re in luck; I am nothing if not merciful, so I’ll leave it up to you: a dance or an explanation. So what’ll it be, darling?”

He’s beyond grateful you can’t get a proper look at his face at the moment, with how pink he knows his cheeks to be, lest you realize how much the nickname actually affects him. And this shouldn’t be such a hard choice, really; the way his heart stutters at just the thought of either, he should be doing both. Besides, you deserve to know. Deserve to know that he’d told that pompous swine to go choke on his wine the moment he’d as much as uttered your name. Told him that he shouldn’t even be allowed to breathe the same air as you, much less be allowed close enough to touch you. That he could amass as much money and power as he liked, he’d never be worth even a fraction of you.

You deserve to know all of that. And yet he doesn’t tell you. Because while he did what he did for your sake, it had still been selfishly motivated. Because if he tells someone interested in you off, then at least it feels like you’re his, even for just a second. Because the irony of the situation is that while your ex might be undeserving of you, so is he. For different reasons, yes, but he feels it’s true nonetheless.

So he doesn’t tell you any of it, his personal demons are not your burden to bear after all, simply grabs his cane in silence and walks over to the phonograph. Slow notes of a gentle melody fill the air a few moments later, as he turns and offers you his hand.

And you’re absolutely shell shocked, to say the least. This is… not the choice you’d been expecting. Words are his forte; he’d always choose them over physicality if given the opportunity. Or so you’d thought. This doesn’t make sense to you; why was he so desperately trying to keep what he’d said about you a secret? Or had Jayce completely misunderstood the situation he’d recounted to you and Viktor had never said anything about you at all? Why would he bother to anyways? You and your past demons aren’t his burden to bear, after all. The uncertainty must be written all over your face, as you’re met with a concerned, “Are you alright?”

It’s a simple enough question, with a simple enough answer, yes or no, but all of a sudden, you’re a child again. Sitting bruised, bleeding, soaked to the bone and crying your little heart out in the shallows of one of the offshoots of the river, an altercation between you and some other kids having turned out to be another case of you biting off more than you could chew. And then a little pale hand holding out a dirty handkerchief had appeared in your peripheral, belonging to a small, lanky boy with a cane and big, worried golden eyes.

Are you alright?

You hadn’t known him then. But you’d taken his hand anyways. Had decided to trust him. He’d never once let you down since and you have no reason to doubt him now. So you do the same thing in this exact moment as you did all those years ago: just take his hand and trust him.

He pulls you flush against him, hands linked behind your lower back, your own coming up to rest on his shoulders. It’s nowhere near as elaborate and elegant as your waltz earlier this evening, more of a simple swaying from side to side, but it doesn’t have to be. Not for you. Not as long as it’s him.

Smiling softly, you say, “A dance with each one of the Hextech geniuses in one night. I must be the luckiest person in Piltover.” He hums in acknowledgment. “And do you have a preference?”

“Oh come now, that is an utterly unfair comparison.” And your heart aches at the way his face falls just the tiniest bit. “I’ve had my preference for years, regardless of dancing abilities; poor Jayce never even stood a chance.” It’s quiet and subtle, barely more than a deep breath in and out, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. “Don’t tell him that, it’ll break his heart.” In direct comparison to him, the bark of laughter that escapes you is loud and boisterous, only amplified by the muted, soft atmosphere surrounding you both. “Please, he knows. He’s been yanking my chain about that for a bit.” Not that you particularly mind; it’s a chain you wear proudly and for all to see after all. You’d shout your love for this man from the highest towers of Piltover if only he asked. “Besides…” you start while tucking your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m here dancing with you because I want to be. I really only danced with Jayce because I thought if… if you-know-who saw it, it might keep him off my back a little longer.”

A slight turn of his head has him nuzzling your hair; the hushed whisper of your name almost sounds pained as his arms tighten around you protectively. He isn’t sure what exactly happened between you and your ex, but he’d be willing to bet that the nature of your relationship hadn’t been… consensual. It’s plain to see that the man scares you and it makes him sick. Angry. Desperate. But most of all, he’s disappointed - in himself. The conversation him and Jayce had had with him had been one thing; the bastard knew how to behave at least somewhat diplomatically while there were people of importance present. Of course, Jayce, and by extension, you, couldn’t know that he’d had the misfortune of running into him yet again while he was leaving. He’d had to listen to that waste of oxygen in expensive clothing talk about you like you were nothing more than a filthy piece of his property yet again and this time around he hadn’t managed to remain even remotely civil. Had thrown every curse and threat under the sun in two different languages his way. Had hissed at him that he’d turn him inside out if he ever even looked at you again - only for the pig to laugh in his face, pat his cheek condescendingly and give a disgusted, embarrassed look at his cane, telling him that he was ’welcome to try’ before vanishing back into the crowd. Viktor had wanted to scream at the top his lungs; it had been a while since he’d felt so utterly livid, yet so humiliated and useless at the same time.

And here you are, wanting to thank him for some courageous, chivalrous deed he didn’t actually commit. Looking at him with the biggest eyes, like he’d hung the stars in the sky just for you, when in reality, he couldn’t even properly defend you against someone who’d clearly hurt you. He has to tell you. He’s not the hero you think him to be.

“About what I said to him—“ is as far as he gets, as you promptly cut him off with, “Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter.” Not even ten minutes ago, you were essentially blackmailing him into spilling this secret and now you don’t care anymore? “I would argue that it does.” He feels more than sees you shake your head, your hair tickling his cheek. “You stood up for me, right? That’s all I have to know. It’s enough.”

Anger and disgust come back full force, choking him like bile rising in the back of his throat, not aimed at you, never at you, but at himself.

“It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh and bitter and cold.

“It’s plenty.”

Soft and sweet and warm, the exact opposite of his own words in every way; the reassurance and comfort he’s supposed to be offering you dripping from every word. When did your roles get reversed? You’re the one in distress and you’re comforting him? He’s not just useless, he’s absolutely pathetic. And even though you might be none the wiser to his self destructive thoughts, some part of you seems to know; it always seems to know as your fingers dance across his shoulders to busy themselves with the hair at the nape of his neck, calming his nerves.

“I haven’t had— I mean, no one’s ever— Most people—“ A sigh, a clear sign of frustration as you try to get your thoughts in order, warm breath fanning over his neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. “I can count the people who ever stood up for me over the course of my life on one hand; I mean, my birth parents never even bothered to. So knowing there’s someone who has my back, even when I’m not present? It’s…” Pulling back to look at him, his breath catches at the way the silvery light from outside empathizes the affection in your eyes and the tenderness of your smile. “It’s a nice feeling. Thank you.”

His hand is moving before his brain has time to play catch up, cupping your cheek and all but melting when you nuzzle into his warmth, eyes fluttering closed.

“For you? Always.”

He’s not sure he’s ever seen you look quite so peaceful and at ease and it feels like his heart is gonna jump right out of his chest; his gaze is drawn to your lips before he can fully think about what that could entail.

He watches your lips part slightly and when he manages to wrench his golden eyes back up, he finds yours already on him, wide in astonishment and he knows he’s been caught red handed.

And you consider yourself most fortunate, cause if he’d looked up even a second earlier, he would’ve caught you staring. The air is heavy and promising and whoever makes the next move decides wether or not things between you both are gonna change irrevocably.

Tonight, you’re the one that makes that decision. The decision that you’re not ready for things to change. You like what you have and are too scared of losing it. Instead, you settle for something different, yet just as poignant and important; a clear and explicit expression of love for people from Zaun. Softly tugging on his neck, he goes oh so willingly, happily even. You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.”

He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Neither one of you notices the music coming to an end, replaced by the scratchy static of needle against vinyl, too wrapped up in the moment, in each other. A bell tolls outside, signaling the coming of midnight and just like in a fairytale, the spell you seem to be under comes to an abrupt end. With a deep breath, you step back, putting some much needed distance between you, if you want your brain to function properly again, that is, and clear your throat awkwardly. “I uh… I should be getting home. Some people still have a regular day and night schedule, unlike you.”

With a small smile, you go to gather your coat as he switches off the phonograph. When he turns back to you, his heart falls in disappointment; you’re already dressed and halfway to the door. He would’ve liked to walk you home, at least, but you honestly look like you’re fleeing from something; he apparently has imposed on you enough for tonight. Pausing with your hand on the handle, you call his name again, delicately, quietly. When your gaze finds him, you’re pleased to find his full attention already on you.

“Next time you’re pulling an all-nighter… save me another dance?”

And with the way his golden eyes start to shine like the stars and his beautiful lips quirk up into that crooked half smile you adore, you can almost believe Jayce’s words - almost.

You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?

“For you? Always.”

[keferon]

Hmmmm. New infection: Blurr/Swerve

Your writing has radioactive qualities but in a comic book super powers granting kind of way.

Merry Christmas from me to you.

———————————————————————

There was single spark of Christmas in the deepest dark of space. Far, far from the warm fire of Earth.

With the sort of warmth reserved for children’s holiday specials, Swerve and Jazz exchanged small improvised gifts.

Prowl also participated, with all the stone cold concentration of a bomb defusal.

Turns out, there was a decent amount of dropped shanix down various vents that Jazz had gotten a hold of. Swerve helped him pick up a gift for Prowl the next time they stopped at a trade depot. It was some of the most fun he’d had since waking up.

Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.

Never, never, never again.

Later, Swerve would watch as Jazz helped Prowl loop a striped scarf over his shoulders and across one half of a chevron, laughing and smiling all the while.

Swerve wasn’t jealous. No no no. He really was happy for them! He was! And maybe a little sad.

Prowl nodded at something Jazz said and took his leave to head back to his, their hab suite. Jazz jogged over to where Swerve had been slowly been drilling a pen into the drawing pad Jazz gotten for him.

“So you going to go see them?”

Swerve abruptly dropped the pen and flattened a hand over the sketch he’d definitely not made of the person he totally wasn’t thinking about.

“Whaaaat? No, no I’m sure they’re fine. Not! That I was still thinking about him! THEM.”Swerves optics darted rapidly from Jazz to the drawing, making sure any evidence was fully concealed.

“Besides, I’m not gonna leave you alone on Christmas Eve.” He said a bit more seriously, remembering Jazz’s current isolation. Unlike him, Swerve could visit Earth whenever wanted.

“Actually, Prowl was talking about some silent holovid earlier, so we were going to watch it tonight. It’s cool man, go check on your boo.”

Jazz looked, well, happy. And his field (wow, Swerve was still mind blown that humans had those the entire time) reflected that.

Swerve did a poor imitation of nonchalance. “I mean, only if you’re totally sure.”

Jazz put his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet a little, “Hmmm, you could always join Prowl and I for the holovid. You know, the one we’re gonna watch together? Inside his room?”

HA!

Hahahahhaha!

Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl.

The Christmas Shopping was enough.

With Jazz’s blessing, and Prowl’s glaring, seriously he could feel it through the wall, Swerve wished them a Merry Christmas and went to his room. Just a little bit quicker than necessary.

———————————————

Blurr’s hospital was one of those really fancy ones that looked more like a hotel room from the right angles.

There were simple decorations, extra furniture like a nightstand and a small couch, as well as fairly thick curtains framing a large clear window.

Christmas lights were strung up outside, adding to the ambient glow of the city lit up below. Snowflakes drifting through the air fuzzed the details. Made everything a little soft.

Swerve zeroed in on closing the curtains out of habit.

“Leave th-“

Swerve shrieked, nearly clipping through a wall with how hard he jumped.

Lying on his good side on the couch, Blurr merely blinked at him slowly before finishing his sentence.

“Leave the curtains open, please.” He pulled a blanket that didn’t look thick enough a little more securely over his shoulder.

Blurr didn’t resume looking at the falling snow, instead he took Swerve in with a half lidded eye.

“So are you my ghost of Christmas past, present or future?”

Swerve was uncomfortably reminded of how he looked at the moment. Colorless, grainy and mostly transparent. Slowly, he turned up the sliders on his holoform. “Heh, uh, option D? None of the above?”

Blurr didn’t have an IV in, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still on some other form of painkillers. Either way, he seemed a little more aware than what Swerve was prepared to deal with.

So why was he moving to get Blurr a better blanket?

Eh, he probably won’t remember this, but his recovery will. Swerve rationalized. He thinks I’m a Christmas ghost anyways, it’s just a dream to him.

When Swerve was almost out of sight, he was stopped by a small, “Stay?”

Swerve stayed.

He shuffled where he stood, Blurr continued to look at him. Slowly, the former racer tried to sit up.

Swerve was there right away, moving softly as he helped him up. In order to support Blurrs weight as best as possible, Swerve ended up sitting halfway onto the couch where Blurr had been laying.

Blurr placed a hand on his arm for support, and when he was most of the way upright, Swerve felt him sigh and rest all of his weight onto his holoform.

Comfortable.

Trapping him.

Holoforms can’t explode right?

Swerve was living both his greatest fanfic dream as well as his second greatest real life nightmare. He really, really hoped holoforms couldn’t explode. Fuck knows he’d put this poor man through enough.

How many layers of guilt were there again? There’s the initial parasocial idolization thing. There was the time Blurr saw all of his destroyed merchandise. So he thinks Swerve hates him. Did. He did actually hate him. Not really, but he wanted to. Oh and then Swerve left him for dead! Because he treated him like he wasn’t an actual living person who could feel fear! Or pain! Or. . . Alone.

On Christmas.

Swerve got a little more settled onto the couch, letting Blurr use him as his personal cushion a bit more comfortably. Leaning his head on his shoulder, Blurr was watching the snow again.

“When I was a child, I spent every Christmas at a ski lodge to the north” Blurr spoke quietly enough that the silence stayed resilient.

“I’d stay up late, watching the snow drift down through the mountain lights for hours. It felt a lot like this.” Blurr’s eye was fluttering more and more the longer he spoke. Each time it closed, Swerve could see the effort it took to open again.

Blurr, readjusted his body one last time me. Then mumbled. “You’re very warm for a ghost.”

Swerve, desperately, wished he could remember a single smart thing he’d ever written. “I got a slider for that.”

Swerve was going to find the self destruct button.

Blurr snorted a genuine single laugh. His eye had closed and he’d stopped fighting. Gradually, Swerve felt him breath a little slower, sinking into him and the couch. Swerve held still, until all the screaming, embarrassing panic in his mind resolved into white noise.

Swerve stayed for as long as he could. And when his time was almost up, he carefully lowered Blurr back onto the couch. Getting him a thicker blanket, and a non-Swerve pillow, for Christmas.

———————————————————————

- SSTP

"Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.

Never, never, never again."

LMAO

"Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl."

AHAHAHAJFJGMGJGKRJ WHEEEEEEZE HELP

ANON. SSTP. DEAR. MY TREASURE. MY SWEET NUCLEAR POWER PLANT OF A WRITER. I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE THEM. BOTH JP AND BLURWERS. YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS TO BE THIS FUNNY AND CUTE /J

Also The scene with Blurr is just SO cozy auughhggj I wanna wrap them both in a blanket and send to the magic ski resort where nothing bad ever happens*

[kyri45]

✨ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU Q&A (22-09)✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@spec7rejay ha chiesto: First, for the lmk au: oh my god, they were roommates. Second: this may be a bit of a stretch, but I was listening to Lindsey Stirling and her song Foreverglow made me think of the ISaT S:CotL AU Third: your art and AU’s are amazing and I hope you have a nice day! :)

Aww you're right! It is kind of fitting! :D

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hi! I have a question about your Sky x ISAT au In your au, does Aurora exist? Would she be a preformer or something closer to the version of her in queendom?

AURORA in the AU is more similar to a performer who's also a seasonal guide, and the songs they play during the concert where you get teleported and become a bird or a jellyfish are like a collective meditative experience.

da3gr3d ha chiesto: Im finishing to play sky cotl at light speed just so i can read your au comic without spoilers of the game bc im obsessed with the lmk bio parents one and now i wanna read the other one as well bc you are so good at drawing and scripting the comics

(i said it and ill say it again i LOVE your stories im obsessed)

Anonimo ha chiesto: ur isat x sky:cotl au made me pick up sky <3

AAAHHH TY!! Hope you like the game as much as I do!

Anonimo ha chiesto: god your s:cotl isat comic has been making me absolutely completely insane im so obsessed with it. it's so so beautiful and so so good and im just auugughhhh

@queenofskys5 ha chiesto: I hope everyone who came for LMK is enjoying ISAT x Sky:COTL the way I'm enjoying LMK after basically learning of its existence from here

hehe glad you liked the LMK one as well!

Anonimo ha chiesto: the. the pararel between him and siffrin. that doesn't mean anything right haha I'm proooobably looking too deep into it def and it's def not because I think the king is siffrin in some way and I'm totally not looking at the same placements of their three eyelashes and the way they both have their left eye covered. I'm going. insane. tell me I'm insane please. love your art btw! :D

Ah yes, the 2 school of thoughts about Resh in the Sky fandom: either you are team Resh is you/you are part of resh or Resh and Alef are two different beings

@melodyofthevoid ha chiesto: Since in the new COTL event there's a spell that makes you a crab... if the gang got hit with that on the island... It'd truly be their worst nightmare /j

But it would also be so fuckong funny

Anonimo ha chiesto: TEY SIAD TEH THIHGBTEHYSA ISAID TEH THING IM SCREAMING OH MY GOD how long did it take for you to think of that dialogue, siffrin being from ISAT saying that and resh being from COTL saying that, people saying their respective game title names puugghhgh I'm gonna eXPLODE

Ahah since May I knew I was gonna add the name of the game (Sky) into that conversation. As I was drawing the chapter I thought that maybe I could also add the ISAT name as well

Anonimo ha chiesto: (regarding your current update on the ISAT cotl au) I SCREAMED. I SCREAMED. LOOOOPPP. OH MY GOD THEIR FAMILY. IM SCREAMING IM GONNA THROW UP /POS

LOOP! THEY WILL SAVE THE DAY!

[foxyaries]

My Shifting Story That Keeps Me Motivated To This Day

Well hello again! I think it is time I share my own "almost" success story. I know a lot of you might not be interested in reading about my ALMOST success. But trust me... the more I tink about my own story the more I realize how silly it was of me to procrastinate actually doing it for so long. It's almost funny. But let's get into it, shall we?

As I have already mentioned it in my previous posts (please do read them if you haven't already to fill in any blanks that you may or may not have). I have been at a very dark place at that time. And I didn't wanna live the way that I had for as long as I could remember, because I simply wasn't happy.. with my life or my family. And I felt like I was a good kid. And I was! So when I discovered the subliminal world.. I saw it as my escape and a way to finally become happy. And that's when the subliminal "Wake up in your desired family" came into picture.

Like I mentioned before, there were only a couple success stories under that subliminal, but at that time our community was even smaller compared to what it is now. And those 10 - 14k views was more than enough for me to believe that it was a real deal. It's a bit funny to think about it now because these days we tend to pick subliminals that has thousands and thousands and thousands of views? Am I right? :) That's how we decide whether the subliminal works or not.

Anyways.. back to my storytime. I have already mentioned in another post of mine that those success stories that I did see all said the same thing. That for them to start feeling the results it took them a couple months. And if you remember as well as I do. Back then everyone set a limiting belief that for a subliminal message to start working you need to listen to it for at least 21 days. Even tho that wasn't true, I didn't know much about shifting so I believed it. And I also wasn't desperate enough, so since the stories told me it took THEM 1 - 2 months, I figured it'd take me the exact amount of time. And I thought it was nothing compared to the future I was gonna have.

So all that I did for those couple months was listen to that subliminal at least 1 hour a day and sometimes if I could overnight with the idea that I could wake up in my desired family any given moment. Pay attention to that. I didn't set a deadline or put pressure on myself for doing anything wrong. I just listened and knew it was going to happen. When exactly? No idea. How exactly? Not a clue, but I didn't care. Because knowing less was actually more of a blessing than I thought. I had no limiting beliefs. All it did was awaken my inner child and that whole journey felt magical to me and I really looked foward to my results.

Probably a month passed by when I started getting tired around the same time, every single day so I'd take naps. At a time a half an hour nap was more than enough to make me feel rested and I'd get in the state of being awake yet asleep at the same time. You know what I am talking about. The state during which it feels like you are in and out of sleep. When the sounds feel like they are far far away and then they dissapear. It almost sounds like I was close to tapping in the void state, no? :)

So whenever I'd feel tired I'd just have one earbud in my ear and lay in whatever comfortable position I wanted to lay in. It usually was on my side. And I had no intention to shift because I KNEW it was gonna happen either way. So I'd lay down and just have myself doze off listening to my playlist (I had a couple boosters too but then I'd just loop the main subliminal). And then I started feeling unusual sensations and feelings I have never felt before. All I did was just lay there and day dream about how I was gonna wake up in my desired room and I tried imagining it in detail. How I was gonna walk out of my room and see my best friends that I was going to shift there with. And literally all I did was just loop that scene because it made me happy :')

I keep rambling haha I'm sorry. Back to what happened. I was probably a month in when I started to get tired and naking naps around the same time and suddenly my naps were different? I would just mind my own business, think about my future when suddenly I would feel this insanely strong sensation that I was being lifted off of my bed and that my body was turning and flying somewhere?? But because I didn't know exactly what it was it'd freak me out and my body would flinch. That's when I'd recover the feeling of my body back and it felt like I'd literally fall back into my bed. And I mean LITERALLY get slammed back into my body. And this wasn't a one time thing. Same thing kept happening every single day for like 2 weeks (until I got insecure and shifted my focus somehwere else as I've mentioned in another post). What's funny is that I didn't even realize what was happening. I was just like "Oh? That's a new feeling" I was just curious and wanted for it to keep happening so I could understand it better. I only realized what it was when it stopped happening all together and for that I blame myself.

But you know what? It's okay. I've learnt so much since then. And it's insane how all I did every day was look for other success stories to convince myself that this was real. When I had my own very real success story. I KNOW all fo this is real because I experienced it. And I am done looking for a confirmation from other people. I know the truth and that's enough. And you should too. You don't need any of these methods. All you need is to do whatever makes you feel comfortable and happy and that you know works for YOU. Cause what actually matters is that YOU KNOW is gonna work for you. That's all that ANY of us really need.

I know this is a lot, but if you actually read this I hope it helped and made you realize something... anything really. Be your own success story and make your dreams come true.

I believe soon you will hear about my own final success story:) Goodbye for now. Next post will be more about my fairy companion. Do look forward to that!

Much love,

Foxy ♡🦊

[agi-ppangx]

🎄CHRISTMAS EVE WITH BANG CHAN🎄

mini series masterlist

the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies made its way through your apartment as you were looking for your jewellery to complete the outfit. you had less and less time to find it - chan and you were supposed to leave for the dinner with his parents any minute now.

“baby?” you heard your boyfriend’s voice from the living room. you hummed, rummaging through your vanity table, and soon after you noticed chan enter your bedroom. “you ready? we should leave soon,” he said, leaning on the doorframe. you huffed at his words.

“i know, i just-” you whined, closing the drawer with a loud thud. “-i can’t find my earrings.” chan smiled at you softly, taking a step into your direction. he wrapped his arms around your back, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed neck.

“are you nervous?” he whispered, swaying both of you from side to side.

you stayed silent for a moment. of course you were nervous, you were supposed to finally meet his parents after all. you wanted to make a good first impression, hoping that they’d accept you. you really loved chan, thinking seriously about your future, so his parents’ approval was madly important to you.

“i just don’t want to let you down,” you finally mumbled, playing with your bracelet. chan chuckled and squeezed your waist.

“baby, they’re gonna love you, trust me,” he responded, placing one more kiss on your head. “you have nothing to worry about. also-” he added. “-your earrings are in the bathroom. i’ll get them for you.”

when he came back to the bedroom he stood right in front of you, reaching out and putting the golden loops in your ears. chan’s touch was gentle and he was smiling the whole time.

“there you go. you look stunning, baby. but now come on, we gotta go,” he rushed you playfully, making his way to the kitchen to pack the still warm cookies. you exhaled loudly, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror and smiled softly at your appearance.

you walked up to the wardrobe, taking out all of the gifts you’d bought for chan’s parents and him as well. still nervous but also excited, you walked out of the bedroom to put on your coat and hopefully become a part of chan’s family.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby

[fandomnerd9602]

Our First Thanksgiving

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Gif belongs to @abimess

You couldn’t believe it. Halloween was a blast for you and your doe hybrid mate Wanda Maximoff. You and her had enter the ‘seasons of firsts’ as you would call it.

Thanksgiving was just on the horizon. Another first holiday for your doe and you. Honestly you loved having these firsts with her. It was like new experiences to share together, to feel the joy and elation that it allows was incomparable.

Your doe had traded her jean shorts for a comfy pair of PJ pants that she wore around the house. Her little deer tail popped out the back of the pants, in truth, it gave you another reason to stare at her perfect form.

One night, about two weeks before Thanksgiving, your mate in question came running into the living room and jumped onto the couch and into your lap.

“So what are we gonna do?” She asked, her doe tail wiggling with anticipation.

“About?” You asked her right back.

“Thanksgiving!” She exclaimed. “My family never celebrated it, you know being from Sokovia and all”

“Well it’s a feast,” you replied, “a time where we gather together and share what we’ve been thankful for over the year”

“She nuzzles you, her antlers fitting just over your head, “I think you know what I’m thankful for, my buck”

You kiss her nose in response. “I promise I’m gonna make this Thanksgiving a memorable one for you, my doe”

She giggles, “I know you will”

You had no idea where to even begin. Your mind races with ideas both good and bad as you walk down the hallways of the sanctuary.

“Hey boss,” Natasha said with a smirk, “need fuel? Your brain looks like it’s running on fumes”

Natasha, your ever loyal wolf hybrid pal guides you into the break room and pours you some coffee.

“So what’s on your mind?” She asks as she gives you coffee.

“Thanksgiving. I wanna make it special for Wanda.” You explain.

“My advice…make a few vegan dishes. She’s probably not gonna want direct turkey.” Natasha explains. “But prepare a small one for me, hey I’m a carnivore after all”

“Just inviting yourself huh?” You ask with a chuckle and a smirk.

“Am I not invited?” Natasha offers a mocking offense. “I’m your buddy, your pal!”

“Of course you’re invited Nat,” you smile at her, “you’re like my sister. Closest thing I had to a family for a long time, Yelena too”

Natasha smiles, her wolf tail wagging a little. “Make some turkey tofu for the future wife, some cranberry sauce, stuffing and a green bean casserole, you’ll be good”

“Future wife?” You look at her a little confused.

“Hey just calls it as I see it. I hear wedding bells for you and your doe in your future” Natasha laughs.

You couldn’t help but blush. You heard those same wedding bells too.

Thanksgiving had arrived. You worked on both the turkey tofu for Wanda and the regular turkey for your wolf hybrid pals. Natasha borough the green bean casserole. Yelena brought the cranberry sauce, joking that she got into several scuffles for it.

Tony handled thanksgiving dinner for the sanctuary. Doctor Strange led the festivities in your place.

You, Wanda, Natasha, and Yelena held a small intimate dinner at your apartment. You had a nice fireplace loop playing on your tv. Wanda and Yelena found themselves watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade while you and Natasha worked the kitchen. Eventually, everyone took their place at your small dining table.

Wanda sat next to you, holding your hand under the table. The dinner was nice and simple, conversations faded into something jovial. The wolves couldn’t help but embarrass you by telling Wanda all about your life before her.

Wanda couldn’t help but feel blessed. She had a small family there with her. She had two wolf sisters and the love of her life.

Little did she realize how quickly that little thanksgiving dinner set up would grow over time. Eventually Natasha had to bring a bigger fold out table.

Your first thanksgiving as a couple was also your first one as a family. And as far as Wanda could see, it was just perfect.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @aloneodi @olsenmyolsen @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23 @multi-fandom-enjoyer @moonlit-imagines

[exo-raskreia]

hey.... i wanna know your honest Thoughts on the jjk ending? Give a rating out 10. Honestly i'm ranting. I mean the good things in the chapter were sukuna's conclusion, the flashback with gojo , queen utahime being alive yay and the nice art with everyone at the end. Usually i would wait for a story to finish before ranting/judging but my god this kinda sucked. I don't want to be too critical but god I am just disappointed and kinda mad. Overall it is an okay/mid manga ;). Gege is not worst writer but ughh. Aot or mha sure they have their flaws but my god..These should never be compared to THIS. so now we could really say that gojo stayed south. With the full chapter, this does not change my opinion cause it still kinda sucks overall even with the whole north vs south meaning. Nothing really changed in the society or lessons maybe except for yuji and sukuna. The kiddos all really went back to missions huh after everything. I have alot to say with relationships and bonds, wasted potential on many aspects but that is a whole other discussion. i totally understand we can't write a backstory for every single character but that is not what i am insinuating here and yes there should be room for a little literary interpretation . That a whole different topic... Anyways I agree with alot your rants. i would like to hear your opinions. In the end we never got to see a gjhm flashback unfortunately. Ok so let say gojo is dead dead I find it hard to believe no was like remembering or acknowledging not even his comrades ( examples shoko, utahime etc_ or the students (i mean i am pretty sure these characters would but i would like to SEE it you know) and so many hints were gearing for gojo's revival but it is meaningless... and was used for pr ngl that's sad. Maybe the anime would do better at some aspects but i will be salty anyways. i will see uta's dance ;) animated so that i looking forward to and ig the maki's massacre. it looks like it's open ending but really!? They are some loop holes but HEY FEAR not we will probably see answers to our questions in the q&a segment! sigh. I lowkey do not want a "jjk part 2" it is draining. Gege when i catch you. I think gege intended this story to be short oh well. I have alot to say but this gonna be a novel lol. Sorry for errors i was in a moment and i hoped you understood what i wanted to say. Hope the gojohime fandom would not die and looking forward to see some nice content.

Thankyou

I already went on a mini rant here. If I have to rate the ending, I'd say maybe 2-4 out of 10?

JJK really did turn out kinda mid. It has an easy anime to get into (the anime carries it mostly 🫣), to recommend for newbies, but that ending will make one hesitate to recommend it now. Maybe wouldn't even bother to.

I'm also disappointed & mad. I don't even wanna consider that Gojo is fully dead (cuz Gege went about it so terribly). Gege skipped Gojo's whole month after his unsealing then killed him off-panel a few chapters later. The north & south thing was pointless. We didn't even get to see Gojo make a choice. There were so many hints about his potential revival but they amounted to nothing.

Summed up in this image:

This Tweet sums up the terrible mishandling of Gojo's character too 😡. This other short thread pretty much says that his "death" didn't make sense for Gojo either; accepting to stay at the airport is him regressing to his teen self. It doesn't properly conclude Gojo's character arc at all. He was meant to MOVE ON from the loss of his "springtime of youth" & continue to strive for a better future with his comrades & students; the future that HE DREAMED OF 😤 (oof, don't wanna rant further on Gojo; don't wanna make this longer 😅).

Honestly, the fan theories made the story seem much better than it actually was. At least with this ending, people can finally start seeing & admitting that Gege isn't a great writer. I've certainly never thought he was 😒; I once went on a rant here about most issues with this manga, one of them being how terribly fast-paced it is. This story is the definition of wasted potential. So many missed opportunities.

Whatever Gege comes up with for the databook, it'll be infuriating. He'll try to fill in the plot holes but man, I don't think it'll be satisfying. He might not even answer the burning questions everyone has (just like Kub0 never answered everyone's burning questions about the Bl3ach ED, or more like, no one dared to ask. Maybe he himself didn't allow those questions for his interviews 😒). Hope ppl don't give him any more money, especially cuz he's still milking Gojo, such as with that Hidden Inventory movie no one asked for.

I kinda wanted a Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1 ending (lol) & then on to the supposed JJK part 2, esp cuz of this sketch here but Gege fumbled hard.

Wonder if Mappa could deliver but we'll see. I only care about GojoHime's 200% Hollow Purple now. Gege made me lose most interest I had for other things getting animated. Just thinking about that ending will mostly ruin my experience... 😞

I also hope the GojoHime fandom continues to thrive. We've always lived off of crumbs... Hope ppl continue to make headcanons, fanfics, fanart, etc... I wouldn't want ppl to leave such a beautiful ship with so much potential 🥺 (I've been thru this type of thing before with Bl3ach, so despite the disappointment, I've stuck around in my ship fandoms only. I don't engage with anything else in that series. Another beloved series of mine also ended terribly but unfortunately, the fandom kinda faded or became inactive cuz it's a manhwa 🥺; if it at least had a proper anime adaptation, then...).

Let's stay strong, GojoHime fam! 🥹❤️‍🩹

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my wife to be more chill about the name we gave our daughter?

Our daughter is soon going to be 3 years old. I picked her first name, from my culture, and it means a lot to me. My wife agreed to it at the time.

However, sometimes she starts obsessing over things, and right now what she obsesses over is that we made a "Bad Choice" with the name, that it will make our daughter's life SO HARD because no one will know how to spell it and everyone will ask where the name is coming from and thus find out we're a mixed family and ALL the other kids have "normal" names like "Lisa" and "Mary" and we RUINED our daughter's life we made her a pariah, etc. And it's the husband's fault for Insisting on something so dangerous and stupid. And how could she have allowed me to do that she was blinded by how happy I was and how pretty the name was and didn't think it through. And my wife does that on a loop.

And I try to be patient with her and listen to that a couple of rounds, and ask her about her anxieties. But then I also say look, we are not gonna change her name now, are we. And she is like No of course not, and then the loop starts AGAIN. And then I say okay so you are mad at me, and at yourself for not insisting on a "normal" name back then, totally valid, and you are scared about standing out, that's okay, then just express that. And if you think it's such a bad mistake then if we ever have another child we name them something you find "normal", promise. And she protests There is no use talking to you you don't understand that this is a Problem not about my feelings or some future kid but about our daughter's NAME and Right Now it's a Problem it's a Problem it's a Problem it's Bad it's Bad it's Bad

For the record, we live in a small rural area with a reputation of being racist and so far ALL of our neighbours have been chill and the 1 or 2 who had trouble with our kid's name only took like a second to learn it (Five letters. It. Is. Not. That. Hard).

And last night I had enough and was like Okay, obviously this is something we have to work through. But for the sake of our DAUGHTER, I beg you, NEVER say any of this in front of her. She has a right to feel good about herself and proud of her heritage. As far as I am concerned the REAL Problem is that if my wife keeps going like this one day she will say it in front of the kid and scare and upset her about something she should be allowed to feel happy about. And frankly, for my wife's own sake, she should try to take a step back and look at the good instead of the bad because it looks like this is making her sick. And if there ever is trouble we'll deal with it as it comes.

And then my wife snapped at me and said talking to me is USELESS and that I am TA because I don't care about The Problem and I'm not taking her worries seriously enough. And she said this was Toxic Positivity.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Oh My, Good Lord

Day #25 - Gareth | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC), Background Steddie | Tags: Future Fic, Retired Corroded Coffin, TikTok Trends, Who Can You Traumatize If Not Your Friends?

Gareth watches the analytics tick upwards and he's getting concerned. It was meant to be a joke. Now, it's breaking containment. 

Nobody has ID'd him yet, not as far as he knows, but there are lots of comments that mention that he looks familiar. So, it's coming. His tattoos are on full display, so he might as well be showing the world his fingerprints.

They're gonna figure it out. 

And as soon as that happens, it's gonna get picked up by TMZ and then Eddie's gonna know and never shut the fuck up about it.

He should delete it. 

Quit while he's ahead. 

But, Di likes it. Says he looks good, and that she wants to show off her sexy husband. She's the one that put it to that popular sound clip and uploaded it to an account unattached to either of them. Just for fun, and it was fun, at first. Now it's threatening to really go viral and there'll be no escaping identification if that happens.

So, he's standing by. Hoping it'll have its brief moment in the algorithm and then fizzle out.

It's not like it's that racy. He's showing less than he showed every night for decades onstage. But he still feels exposed. The before, the kind of dorky kid that was in Hellfire Club, that's how he feels inside. Not whoever that slicked-back hair guy is.

Gareth's phone buzzes on his desk, and he picks it up, and it's a text from Eddie:

Got something to tell me, kid?

Gareth isn't sure what he's talking about, but then a photo is attached and yep. There it is. A screenshot of his viral video.

This you?

Well, shit.

He hovers in the text box, and he knows Eddie can see that he's dithering. Before he can make a decision, his phone is ringing. He'd just as well face the music now, there'll be no avoiding it. Not when it comes to Eddie.

He's never gonna live this down. No way in hell.

"Shut up," Gareth says by way of greeting, and Eddie just laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"Kid," he finally says, "does Di know you did this?"

"Di filmed it and uploaded it. Yeah, she knows. I was an innocent bystander."

Eddie laughs, "Just wait until Goodie finds out."

Gareth grabs a fistful of his own hair and tugs. Goodie won't ever let it go. Gareth may have to move to another continent to escape him. Eddie will make fun, but it won't be anything on what Goodie'll unleash.

"Do not tell him, Eddie. I swear to god. How'd you even find it in the first place?"

"Steve. It showed up on his for you page, and he yelped like he'd been struck by lightning."

"Do I at least look good?" Gareth asks.

"Uh, well, I had to tell Steve to either mute his phone, put on headphones or, you know, just stop watching it on a loop. One or the other. The music was driving me crazy."

Gareth laughs. He's under no illusions that Steve Harrington actually thinks he's attractive, that's absurd, but there was something mesmerizing about it. That seamless quick cut from one version of him to the other. The stats show that people are looping it, for sure. How, even to himself, it was crazy to watch how he changed how he looked. Like he might not have been the same person at all.

He was, though. Yeah, Di made him up to be extra dorky for the before, but she also did some magic on the after, both in real life and with some sort of filter on top. But both worked together to make him look pretty damn different than he does on a daily basis. He falls somewhere in between the two. Not that goofy, but not that attractive, either.

But, he can almost look like that. It's been a funhouse mirror of a weird thing to realize. 

And now Eddie knows. 

Fuck.

He finds Di in the kitchen, folding towels. 

"Eddie knows."

She looks up, meeting his eyes.

"Eddie knows what?" Di asks, folding another towel and putting it on top of the large stack on the kitchen island as she grabs the next one.

"About the tiktok," he says, and she laughs. Fucking cackles, and he smiles, because if she's that delighted there's no way he can't be, too.

"How'd he find it?" she asks.

"Steve," Gareth answers, "because the universe hates me."

"The universe wouldn't have given you that face if it hated you," she says, leaning forward and squeezing both of his cheeks between her fingers. 

He's old. A dad. Of adults. 

He was in a band, and they retired. That's how old he is. That his band stopped because they were so old they didn't want to be on the road anymore. 

Now he's a tiktok thot. 

The front door opens and slams closed, and Gareth looks up, expecting Eddie. It's not Eddie. He wishes it were Eddie.

Goodie's got his phone up, that seven-second clip of music playing on a loop.

Gareth hangs his head, "How'd you find out?"

"The kids called. Wanted to know when Uncle Gare got hot," Goodie says, "I'm traumatized. Is this a midlife crisis?"

"If it is, it's Di's," Gareth says.

"She did this?!" Goodie hollers, "She's the one that unleashed this evil onto the world?"

"Yep. Keep playing that, you're making me money." 

Goodie pauses, then slumps down onto the couch, the music abruptly cutting off, "Well. If it was Di."

"Oh, when she does it, it's fine? But if I'd done it, that'd be gross?"

"Of course. She did it, and that's funny. If you'd did it, it'd just be sad."

Gareth ignores him. Then has a thought.

"So, Uncle Gare is hot, huh?" Gareth asks, unable to resist poking Goodie just one more time.

"Stop. I beg of you. Those are my children and they both need to find Jesus for saying such things."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Based off this tiktok. It just felt very Gareth-coded to me, and, well, here we are. The fake tiktok video screen in the header is made from a picture from Gwydion's insta where he dressed up like Gareth.

[vind3miat0r]

Project Meridian Theories

brought to you my yours truly

(putting it under the cut once again)

ALRIGHT. SO.

using information from the new audio, i think we might be able to rule out time loop?? its still a possibility, but ive looked it over and i feel like other things are more likely

so far we have:

— a simulation loop/stuck in a simulation

— taking it at face value and Asset actually having gotten sucked into an alternate universe

— yknow how the brain relives moments before it dies n stuff? same thing applies. could be Asset literally about to die and theyre remembering the events leading up to their death

— past/future time travel fuckery

a lot of the evidence can still support the simulation theory, but some of the new evidence points to other directions. i think the "alternate universe" thing holds some weight, but considering that we were quite literally thrown into that ending, i think we should take it with a grain of salt. we have NO idea who this new James is, so even if the alternate universe theory is true, he still could be lying to us about his motives (you do NOT start a conversation with "im gonna save your life"). still, we can reuse the evidence from the time/simulation loop theory and slap "alternate universe" on it, and it can still make sense

the "Asset is dead and reliving their last moments" theory is quite literally a crack theory i came up with. it could be that the entirety of both SW and SR are Asset remembering the events leading up to their death, or it could only be SR. not a lot of evidence to support it, but something to keep in mind

if im being honest, im kinda iffy with the time travel theory. we know that holding people in time is a thing (Avior being trapped in the Meridian for two years from his perspective, but it actually only having been less than thirty minutes in real life), but thats about as far as our knowledge with it comes to timey wimey stuff and the Meridian. not to mention, we STILL dont know when Project Meridian takes place. im assuming its at least after Sovereign State, since "two emissaries from the Meridian" were mentioned in an audio before this whole ordeal 

i saw some people pointing out that alternate!James (as ill be calling him) sounded a lot like the James in the recent patreon teaser audio. i had read that audio as being set in the past, before James and his Spouse were married and were much younger. but, it is an interesting connection nonetheless

reusing the evidence from the time/simulation loop theory, the time travel theory can be made plausible. all the weird instances (the phone calls, the PA system, etc) could be interference from either the past or the future. again, since we a) dont know how exactly time travel would work using redactedverse logic and b) dont know when PM takes place, its not exactly a solid theory, but it does hold some weight to it

some of James' behavior could also support the time travel theory. as said by my wonderful friend Galaxy: "What if it's past James but he's from the future. Like he did the experiment, it failed, by some miracle James managed to time travel back, essentially surviving. And the past James and Spouse audio, with him freaking out, it's because he knows something bad is going to happen, but he obviously can't say that because that's crazy. Maybe that's why he's stressed out in the audio"

not to mention James seemingly brushing off Asset essentially getting bitchslapped out of the Meridian and the massive amount of new data they acquired. hes already seen it all before, so he has nothing to worry about

in the end, it think the most plausible and likely theory on this list is the alternate universe one, as that seems to be where the story is going with this. then again, we dont have all of the details, and Erik does love a good plot twist

uhh thank you for coming to my ted talk :3

[sp0o0kylights]

and STOBIN TIME LOOP EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! [vibrates at the speed of sound] i like this one a normal amount

NGL this ones in like, seven documents spread across my drive, so I might have posted this part? UNSURE

Snippet:

"I normally would never in my life even think of doing this, but this is a dire emergency situation." Robin says apologetically.

She looks around, like they're going to do a drug deal instead of somehow proving that she and Steve were time traveling, before taking a deep, dramatic breath.

"You have a crush on Steve."

Steve blinks. "Wait, really?"

Eddie's face flames so fast not even his storytelling can back him out of the embarrassment. 'What the hell Buckley, I-"

Robin isn’t done. 

"You once got so distracted by his ass in gym sorts you crashed into a door and bloodied your nose."

Steve's eyebrows are in his hair line. "Really?" 

“You guys are so stupid, Eddie doesn't have a crush on Steve.”  Dustin scoffs. 

Eddie makes a strangled noise. "I don't--I wouldn't--no?!"

"Smooth, Eds." Steve deadpans.

There’s a smile creeping across his face, some combination of smug and heated that makes Eddie’s blush darken, the red racing down his neck to his chest. 

“Ed's?" He croaks, as if the very idea of the nickname offends him.

"There's your proof, now would you maybe believe us about how we're all about to die!?" And Robin's talking, not to Eddie but to Dustin of all people. "As if that's even half of the weird shit we've seen!"

"You agreed to meet Chrissy tonight right? At your trailer?" Steve cut in, and he at least, is still talking to Eddie.

Who is currently having a hell of a time stringing two words together, torn between bolting in sheer panic and screeching several insults at Robin Buckley.

"Yes?" 

"Good. We don't have long, and I am not singing Call Me again." He motions towards Robin, who turns to face him.  

"You're telling me." She grumbles, as if they were just gonna--speed past the accusation of Eddie being queer and having a crush on Steve fucking Harrington (and who cared if it was true!?) "That song is burned into my brain."

Robin snatches Dustin by the wrist, yanking him foreward in a march down Hawkins halls.

Steve takes a step after her, before pausing to lean in and whisper conspirutually in Eddie's ear.

"In the future I had a crush on you too." He admits with a grin.

Eddie makes a noise he will later deny, with every bit of the heart and soul Hawkins insists he doesn't have, was a squeak.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 21

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Sickness be gone!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Dr. Kemp gave me this journal. I met him today. He’s a therapist. Or a psychologist? He’s a doctor and he’s going to help me.

I hope.

He told me to put my moods in here, to write about how I feel, and to set a small goal every day. 

How I feel today: scared.

This morning was scary. We went to the doctor’s office and I didn’t know where we were going. I met Dr. Kemp and was less scared. Then we went to the mall and that was scary too. I tried on a short dress and that was scarier. Now we’re back at the house and I’m still afraid.

What if this doesn’t work either? What if I’m stuck this way forever? What if Dr. Kemp can’t help me?

A knock comes at the door and you tuck your new pen into the journal, closing it as you set it on top of your tablet. You put both on the nightstand as you call for Andy to enter. He inches open the door and pokes his head around.

“Hey,” he says, “I was just thinking, it’s been a long day. We can order in for the night?”

You shrug. You’re not very hungry. The large breakfast keeps your appetite at bay. Your anxiety helps as well.

“Um, that’s okay. I’m not very hungry.”

He sighs, his hand on the door. His fingers tap on the wood as he grips his hip, “you really shouldn’t skip meals. It’s not good for you.”

“I ate a lot this morning–”

“That was hours ago. You need to eat,” he insists, “I missed a week of work, honey, I can’t miss any more. I need you to start trying. Didn’t Dr. Kemp talk to you about this?”

You wince. He’s upset. You didn’t mean to make him angry. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, “I’ll, uh… take out sounds good.”

He lets the door fall all the way open. He crosses to the foot of the bed and touches the top of one of the shopping bags. You chew your cheek as you watch him.

“Are you gonna put all this away?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ll do that now,” you get up.

He bought all those clothes, he took you to the doctor, on top of everything else. The least you can do is choke down a meal he’s also paying for. You go to the closet and open it up. You have two sweaters and a pair of jeans hung there. The rest of the hangers are empty.

“Chicken or beef?” He asks as he backs up.

“Hmm?” You look back at him with a handful of hangers.

“For dinner?”

“Oh, chicken,” you answer as you come back to the bed, “I’ll come down after I finish with all this.”

“Sure… uh, I could help,” he offers.

“No, I can do it,” you say, “that’ll be my small task today. Put this away and tidy up the room.”

He nods, both hands on his hips, “sounds like a good plan.”

You try to smile but your cheeks only twitch. You focus on taking out the clothes from the bag and looping them over the plastic hangers. He lingers and slowly slides out his phone. He turns on his heel and leaves you, thumbing at the screen with a hum.

You’re tired of letting everyone down. Amber, Andy, yourself. You’re not going to let Dr. Kemp down. You’re really going to try. You look over at the journal and take a deep breath. 

They’re just pages, but you finally have someone to talk to. Someone you can tell everything. The paper can’t answer you but it can listen without judgment. And in the end, you can always crumple it all up and forget the words.

You get everything hung, folded, and some put aside for the wash. There’s a weight of dread in your feet. You don’t want to go downstairs, you’d rather stay up here and lay down. It’s been a long day and you’re exhausted.

You find Andy in the living room. You bring your tablet to quell your restless hands. You sit on the far end of the couch as he watches a ball game. You peel back the cover and take out the pen. 

“Not a baseball fan?” He asks.

You pop your head up and look over at him. You shrug. You look at the screen as the umpire calls a strike.

“Don’t watch sports,” you answer.

“Ah, didn’t want to assume,” he leans forward, elbows on his arms as he presses his hands together, “we can watch something you like. I can catch the highlights tomorrow.”

“No, it’s okay,” you swipe the nib across the screen, “I like listening to this.”

You tuck your legs up and hunch over the tablet. You sense him watching you before he slowly leans back against the couch. You draw without thinking, a twisted elm tree with crows in the branches.

The commentators offer a steady soundtrack for your work. The crowd jeers then roars, swaying with the momentum of the game. You pick the perfect shadow of brow to add streaks to the trunk of the tree. You feel the couch shift but don’t look up. It isn’t until Andy’s right beside you that you tear your attention from your work.

He’s close. Very close. You sweat as heat radiates off of him. He stretches his arm behind you as he leans in to look at your drawing.

“Just a sketch,” you lower the pen.

“Pretty,” he says, “I’m not very artsy. Writing’s chicken scratch.”

You nod, “art is art. As long as you’re creating.”

“Pretty good way of looking at it,” he leans in closer, placing his hand on the corner of the tablet, “do you ever draw people?”

“Sometimes,” you answer, wilting at his proximity. He seems even bigger as he crowds you. You look up at the TV and drag the cover over the tablet, “why are they cheering?”

He lifts his head and exhales heavily. He retracts his arm from behind you and points with his other hand.

“Hitter just got a double and another player got home,” he says, “tied it up. If they can get another run, they’ll win. If not… well, another inning.”

“Oh,” you blink. You really don’t know much about baseball.

“We could go to a game, maybe, if you’re interested,” he offers, “they have great pretzels.”

“Maybe,” you keep your eyes on the TV, even as his head turns and he narrows in on you.

The heat between you becomes stolid. You have no space to turn over and you’re too afraid to stand up and go. You don’t want to upset him. He probably doesn’t realise how close he is. Plus, your personal bubble tends to be bigger than most.

The doorbell rings, breaking the tension, and drops his head as he grips his thighs. He stands with effort and you put aside your tablet. You listen as he answers the door and the crinkle of a paper bag underlines his exchange with the delivery driver.

He shuts the door and the smell of the take-out wafts in, stoking your hunger. You get up and meet him at the doorway, following him to the dining room. As he puts the bag down on the table, you wring your hands.

“Should I get plates?”

“Sure, sweetie,” he says as he rips past the staple in the fold of the bag, “that’d be great.”

🕊️

You can’t help but be relieved when Andy goes back to work. The house is still cold and lonely to you, but you’re happy to be alone. You set yourself a goal for each day; in the very least, you’ll make dinner, and when you feel up to it, you’ll do one other thing.

Monday, you spend most of the day painting. You make a decent amount of progress by the time Andy returns. You reheat leftovers for the night and make sure to tidy the kitchen.

Tuesday, you do the laundry. It feels like a great accomplishment as you sit and fold everything before Andy gets back. You leave his clothes on his bed. He’s pleased by your efforts and you are too.

Wednesday, you paint some more and vacuum the first floor. Thursday, you clean the bathroom, and Friday sees you so exhausted that you only do a quick sweep before starting supper. Each day, you record in your journal. Not just your tasks but your feelings; the pendulum between helpless and sad and proud swings back and forth throughout the week.

Saturday comes and you stay in bed late. You’re tempted to stay there and sleep all day until a knock sounds from the other side. You knew he wouldn’t let you.

“Dove,” he calls through, “you have an appointment at noon.”

“What?” you sit up and rush across the room. You crack the door open and peek out, “I didn’t know…”

“I mentioned it, didn’t I?” He asks.

He may have. Sometimes you forget things. You fight a frown and dip your chin.

“I’ll get ready, I’m sorry.”

“No problem. I’ll have breakfast waiting,” he looks through at you, his eyes searching, trying to see through the gloom. “Why don’t you wear some of your new clothes?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you murmur, “thanks.”

You shut the door and watch the shadow underneath. He doesn’t go right away but when he does, you flip on the lights. You go to the closet and ponder the selection. It’s a bit overwhelming. The skirts and dresses. 

You take out a pleated plaid skirt and a pumpkin coloured turtleneck. Andy didn’t particularly like it but he let you grab it anyway. You put it on with a pair of ribbed black tights. At least you’re covered up, even if it’s all a bit snug.

You go into the bathroom and get freshened up; brush your teeth, wash your face, put some moisturizer on. You’d started using more of the bottles piled into the basket. You feel bad just letting them go to waste.

You go downstairs, the smell of toast greeting you as you enter the kitchen. Andy looks over his shoulders and still the knife as he butters a slice. He turns to you fully and grins, “wow, you look… nice.”

“Oh, thanks, I…” you pull at the fabric across your stomach, “maybe I need a bigger size.”

“No, no, really,” he finishes scraping the butter across the hard bread, “you look really nice.” He grabs a plate and brings it to you as you stand by the island, “those tights look warm.”

“Um, yeah,” you look down, twisting one leg behind the other, “not really.”

He nods and clicks his tongue, “anyway, breakfast,” he hands you the plate, “enjoy.”

“Thanks,” you say as you take it, “er… are we going to see Dr. Kemp?”

“Uh huh,” he goes back to the counter and takes out another slice from the toaster, “you… you like him?”

“Sure,” you cradle the plate, slowly drifting to the door, “he’s nice.”

“Well, you know, you can always let me know if you don’t.”

“What?”

“Just… if he makes you uncomfortable or anything,” he shrugs, “you know I’m always here for you, dove.”

You don’t say anything else. You go into the dining room and set down your plate. You’re almost excited to go see Dr. Kemp. Strangely so. You can’t wait to tell him everything you did this week and talk about your new pens for your journal. It feels like you’ve actually made progress, for once in your life.

🕊️

You sit in the same chair as last time. Dr. Kemp stands by the window. His cool demeanour is a counterweight to your tense anxiety. You chew your fingertips as he turns and pace towards the wall. He stops and flicks on the electric kettle set on the polished console table.

“You like tea?” He asks.

“Um, yeah,” you clutch your hand into a fist and lay it on the armrest.

“Green? Black? I have Earl Gray,” he offers.

“Green is fine,” you wiggle your foot, the action drawing his gaze. His piercing blue eyes crawl up your legs and he considers you with calm calculation.

“New clothes?” He prompts.

“Y-yes,” you open your hand as you bend your arm, rubbing your neck.

“Hmm, cute. I liked that sweater you wore last time.”

“Oh, it was old,” you scratch along your hairline.

“It’s whatever you're comfortable in,” he says, “skirt’s nice but… I don’t know. Not quite you.”

You don’t comment. He’s not wrong. It’s too short and the pattern is cute but you find the fabric stiff. You bring your hand forward and tap your chin.

“So, did you have a good week?” He asks.

“I think… I did a lot. Exactly what you said,” you push your shoulders up, clasping your hands in your lap. He watches you intensely, not looking away as he listens. “I used the journal and uh, I made myself set goals. Erm, oh, I made dinner every night and I cleaned–”

“That’s great,” he turns and takes two mugs from the stacked tower of porcelain. He drops in the tea bags before he backs up. He crosses his arms, pacing around as he rubs his chin, “but what about things for you? Not cleaning or cooking. Those are chores. You should be doing things just for you.”

He leans on the side of the sofa. You squeeze your hands tight and teeter on the edge of the chair. Your chest sinks.

“Well, I… I guess I didn’t… I thought…”

“It’s okay, there’s no wrong answer here. But this week, I want you to focus on you. Do things for you. Treat yourself kindly,” he drops his arms and hooks his thumbs in the tops of his pockets, “you could do a face mask, have a bubble bath, or even just read a book you enjoy.”

“Oh, okay.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being nice to yourself. Self-love is important. If you don’t find worth in yourself, other people won’t either.”

“I’ll try,” you agree.

“That’s all you need to do,” he smiles as the kettle clicks off and he pivots on his heel. He pours the steaming water in the mugs and continues, “today, I think we should talk about your sister.”

“What?” You gulp.

“You mentioned her before. She seems to be a big part of your life,” he sets the kettle down, “I’d like to know more about her.”

You tuck your lip in and frown. You don’t know if you can talk about Amber. You’re still so confused about her. But what is all this for. To understand how you feel. And like he says, it’s all confidential.

“Amber… her name is Amber,” you eke out, “er…I don’t know where to start…”

“Take your time,” he coaxes, “we can take it slow.”

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

sorry for being super late to the zhuge liang time-loop party but image we're several iterations in and our boy kongming is sitting in his little mountain hut waiting for liu bei to show up like he always does but this time sun zhou yu turns up instead

oh ho this is a hilarious concept! this is the enemies to enemies timeline we all need. i think it would make more sense for lu su and zhou yu to turn up, because of the simple reason that sun quan is a duke at this point and can't leave the palace for such an extended period of time vs liu bei the one-horse warlord.

ok, the timeline needs to be super fucked up at this stage in order to bring these two togather, because in the alpha timeline even though kongming was fairly well known as a genius hermit, he hasn't done anything so extraordinary at this stage that it warrents a personal visit from the two most powerful people in the southland.

i think we can do this by making him kinda new to the whole timeloop thing, and he accidentally/on purpose reveals some future events in order to get liu bei to find him faster, and it ends up backfiring.

picture this: kongming is sitting in his thatched hut, tears in his eyes, heart all a-flutter, waiting for his beloved leige lord to turn up, and the servant is like "master, there's three important men at the door" (idk who the third guy should be but it's a nice round number. maybe huang gai?) kongming: !!!! "ok, I will play some music to set the mood. i was rude last time by falling asleep and i want to make a good impression."

not even 3 bars in and a VERY familiar voice calls out "you're flat."

kongming is so fucking outraged that for a second he forgets to be surprised because that was ONE HALF-STEP DOWN, ASSHOLE!!!! YOU trying getting reincarnated and deincarnated several times over and then meet your soulmate (he called liu bei that irl, look it up) and see how steady your hands are, asshole!!! god, this is just like wei wuxian from my danmeis...

then it dawns on him that none of the peach garden trio have musical literacy. he runs outside, takes one look at the three men in his courtyard and is like "well, this timeline is a wash. aight im gonna go out back and bash my head in. on second thought, i should do it here and freak zhou yu out. suicidal existential despair is no excuse not to troll zhou yu."

but the afformentioned takes this opportunity to stroll into kongming's bedroom, and starts tuning his qin (not a euphamism) without permission. kong ming says passive-agressively, "i see you're quite adept at tightening another man's strings" (not a euphamism), zhou yu replies "a neglected instrument is like a neglected soul" (not a euphamism), "are you offering to duet?" says kongming through gritted teeth to which zhou yu replies "oh don't worry, i can see you're out of practise so i'll be gentle and take it slow," (not a--) and it's at this point lu su grabs huang gai by the elbow and goes "wow, what a nice bamboo grove! the two of us are going for a walk! a nice LONG walk FAR AWAY in the BAMBOO GROVE for THIRTY TO FORTY MINUTES! see you in THIRTY TO FORTY MINUTES!"

huang gai: i literally spent 30 years in the army you don't need all these euphamisms.

lu su: LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE SCENIC RUSTLING OF THE BAMBOO!

*insert that scene from Flirting Scholar where zhou yu and kongming start fighting, they roll under a table, there is a brief skirmish, and they come out with their clothes swaped. they are playing doubles on a single qin the entire time.*

[bichietozier-s]

🕷️Catch You On The Web!!🕸️

An Itafushi spiderman socmed au ❤️

In which Yuuji Itadori, newly a sophomore in college who still has not a clue what he wants to do with his life, gets bitten by a radioactive spider and gains new abilities, stats and powers. He's coasting on his raw athletic ability, a full-ride scholarship handed to him despite his less-than-perfect grades, when he realizes he's got way more ahead of him than he'd ever imagined. Including, but not limited to, a newfound crush that also throws him for a loop.

you are reading: Prologue | Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2

notes: Same notes apply from the last update! If you haven't read part 1, please jump over there first before continuing here! 🫶🏻

This part is really written-text heavy so be prepared for some reading 🥰

That night, Yuuji went to bed happy as a clam. He’d checked with Nobara to see if she thought he should see the on-campus doctor, and she didn’t seem too worried about things, so why should he? Then his best friend texted him and it… kind of made his worries wash away. 

After the talk with Junpei about how his classes were going for him so far, and a far-away, future plan to see the next Human Earthworm movie together, he honestly forgot about the spider bite as he drifted off to sleep with his phone still sitting comfortably in his hand.

And yet, when he woke up, the nerves acted right back up, because his whole arm felt like it had been run over. He assumed that the soreness had to do with the bite, because what else would it be? But then again, what even really were the side effects of a bad spider bite??? 

Before he even left his room for his classes that day, he decided that he’d be seeing the campus doctor later on. She lived on the campus herself, and was on-call for when the students needed her. From what Yuuji had heard, she was friendly with one of the more well-known and higher-up professors at the school, and he fought for her to receive a higher salary since she was so passionate about helping the students complete their educations in good health.

As far as he was concerned, she was a cool lady, and he hadn’t even met her yet.

He was determined to get through his day as normal as he could manage, though. Nothing else felt off, which was why this whole ordeal was so confusing to him. His arm was abnormally sore, sure, but he didn’t feel nauseous or foggy at all like you’d think you would from something like a venomous bite.

Yuuji trudged through his classes that day, and once he finally walked out the doors of the last class at around 3 pm, he ran back to his room for a snack break, and then directly to the field for his practice that day. As soon as he got there, he was greeted by the upperclassman that he’d grown to love… in an odd sort of way. 

“Yuuji! My brother! Hope you’re ready to get roughed up today, we’re doing some tackling exercises,” Aoi Todo, who was a college senior, spoke clearly and from his chest at all times. He approached Yuuji, clapping him roughly on the back and pulling him against his side. Yuuji smiled up at the taller man. He really did admire him, even though he was a little odd at times. Upon meeting, Todo had asked Yuuji what his type was in women, and apparently he liked the answer, because he nearly started bawling his eyes out. Ever since then, he’s called Yuuji his brother.

It wasn’t like it bothered Yuuji at all, he actually found it kind of funny. It was just odd.

“Hey, Todo!” Yuuji replied loudly. “Yeah, I’m ready! I have a sore arm, but, eh…” Yuuji lifted his sleeve to show Todo his arm where he’d been bitten the day prior. To be completely honest, he hadn’t ever really looked at the bite since he received it, he only knew that his arm hurt. “I think it’s ‘cause of this, but, I’m gonna go see the campus doctor after today’s practice. Figured, can’t miss out on a day of gains, right?” He beamed up at the man beside him, who looked at him with an odd expression of disgust and worry.

“Bro, are you sure? That’s a big mark…” He leaned in close to take a better look at it. “What is that, anyway?”

Yuuji peered over the side of his arm to look at the mark himself. Yeesh… It did look kinda gross. “Ah, it’s a spider bite. At least I’m pretty sure it is.” Yuuji let his sleeve fall back down and shrugged. “I dunno, I think I’ll be okay. I’m not feeling bad at all, my arm is just sore. You even said it yourself, “who ever said a little soreness killed you?”, right?” He threw his hands up in finger-gun formation as he walked toward the bleachers to set his things down.

“Ah, that,” Todo said quietly to himself. “I did say that, and it definitely still rings true! Alright, if you’re feeling it, then let’s do this! HELL YEAH!” Todo headed back toward the rest of the group that was already there, while Yuuji ran to catch up with him, pumping a fist into the air.

Yuuji let out a large sigh of nerves as he walked into the doctor’s office. Maybe Nobara was right after all, and he would be fine. She was stressing him out more than anything, though. I mean, the boy was dumb and she was being confusing!

“Ah, hi there,” said a woman from behind the desk in a calm voice. She had long, brown hair, and very tired looking eyes. But Yuuji felt comfortable around her already.

“Uh, hi,” he spoke quietly. “I uh, wanted to come in and see if you had the time to look at a bug bite for me?” He asked, unsure of whether or not this was a stupid idea. It sounded stupid coming out of his mouth. 

As she opened her mouth to speak, Yuuji quickly spit out some more words, as if to offer a better explanation than just ‘bug bite’.

“Well, actually, it’s a spider bite. I feel like that might make it seem a little more urgent, or at least important, and not dumb. Oh, also, my name is Yuuji Itadori.” He put out his hand as an offer for her to shake it. Her eyebrows raised at his speed in not only talking, but also how quickly his hand was thrust at her.

“Yeah, I can definitely take a look at it,” she smiled warmly at the younger man, and shook his hand gently. “Here, Yuuji, you can follow me this way.” She opened a little gate-esque door between the counters for him to follow her into the back exam room. “My name’s Dr. Ieiri, but you can call me Shoko.” Yuuji walked through the little gate and the pair let it fall shut behind them.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Shoko,” Yuuji said, smiling. She nodded her head at him as they walked into the exam room together, replying in agreement with a simple, “you, too”.

“Alright, so where is this bite?” Shoko asked as she put on a new pair of gloves.

Yuuji dropped his things on the little table off to the side and lifted his sleeve once more, exposing his upper arm. “Here.”

“Oh.” Shoko muttered in quiet surprise. “Well, that certainly is a spider bite. Man…” She leaned in close, grabbing Yuuji’s arm and pulling at the skin around the bite. “Does this hurt at all?” She asked as she poked and prodded at the bite itself and the surrounding skin.

“No, if anything, the tiiiiniest bit, but really not much at all,” he spoke as he watched her examine his arm. “The only issue I’m having with it is that it made my whole arm sore. I woke up feeling like just that arm was run over by an 18-wheeler,” he said, bringing his attention now to one of the posters on the far wall. 

“Huh,” she mumbled out, seemingly in thought. She stood up straight now, placing her hands on her hips. “How long ago did you get the bite?” 

Yuuji looked up at the ceiling in thought as he dropped his sleeve down again. “Only yesterday. There was no sign to me that I needed to come here ‘till my arm felt like it was in one of those hydraulic press videos, so I’m sorry for not coming sooner. But I don’t feel sick at all, so I just wanted to be safe.”

Shoko ‘tsk’d’ at the boy’s words as he spoke. “Well, it looks a lot worse than it seems it is.” She turned to take her gloves off, dropping them into the trash can behind her. “I’m not going to run any tests, just because the soreness is a normal side effect from any kind of bite, although the way you’re describing it seems a little severe…” Her hand found her chin in thought for a moment, and Yuuji stood leaning against the exam table behind him, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“But, you said it yourself, you should be fine. I’m not going to give you anything for it, either, unless you feel like you need some ibuprofen.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” Yuuji said, offering a smile to the woman. “Thanks for taking a look at it, I was starting to really stress over it.”

Shoko pursed her lips in thought once more. “Of course, it’s what I’m here for. But, promise me that the next time something like this happens, you’ll come right away. I would hate for it to have been a lethal bite, and you die in your sleep thinking that it would be fine.” She spoke in a very flat and serious tone, about the same she’d been using the whole time they were together, but the way she said that freaked Yuuji out a little. This lady was cool, but she seemed… off. Who just says something like that?

Yuuji raised his eyebrows as he replied, “Oh, uh, yeah. Of course.”

The smile returned back to Shoko’s face as she clasped her hands in front of her. “Great. Thanks for stopping in, Yuuji. If it worsens at all, the bite itself, or any symptoms, please don’t hesitate to return. You can also call this office at any time, remember.”

Yuuji had picked his things up and began heading out of the exam room and toward the front office once more. “Right, sounds good to me.” As he reached for the front door, he turned back one last time and waved to the doctor. “Thanks again, Ms. Shoko! Have a good evening,” and he pushed his way out the door.

Her voice quietly bid him a farewell from behind as the door fell closed and he headed back to his dorm.

author's note:

YIPPEE part one complete!! i hope everyone's liking it so far! I have the next few parts already written but ill probably still post one a day or so unless i get really write-happy out of nowhere lmao 🙂‍↕️

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