#its kind. like next thing you know they take away all the post options and the ability to tag

[cheekytv]

no way back to normal - chapter one (arthur hill x f!reader) word count: 2.3k warnings: slight angst a/n: well hello!!! i said i would post, so here i am! i actually spent way too much time on that banner and i only like the polaroid section, please ignore the post its idk what the fuck those are... ANYWAY. I was originally planning on doing an arthur tv series but... i kinda got carried away now that the new ep is out so... here we are. arthurtv will most likely get his own one chaptered fic just like george!! i hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment, send asks or reblog, i'd really appreciate it <3

masterlist - next

Running in heels is never a good idea. Especially not during rush hour in London, when everyone and their grandmother are on their way home from work. 

Countless people are on the streets and you somehow manage to dodge those right in your way and continue your sprint. You’re sweaty by now, your jacket hanging over your arm, joined by your handbag. 

God, I hope the bastard is still there.

Everything kind of went to shit an hour ago. Your plane had landed without any delay and even a taxi had been easy to call over and take you into the city. Until you, well, reached the city and he let you out in front of your apartment. Or what you thought was your apartment. Because looking at the address you gave the taxi driver now, this surely was not the house you left. 

Your mum didn’t pick up and neither did your dad and you couldn’t call your brother because he didn’t know you were back. Mostly because you wanted to surprise him, but also because you weren’t ready for the news to get relayed to another person. 

Anyway. Your parents didn’t pick up and your brother wasn’t an option so you opted for your best friend Amy. She thankfully picked up - only to let you know she wasn’t in town. Oh, how wonderfully fucked you were. 

So, you took your suitcase and tried to catch another taxi. There was none around, which meant you had to either take the metro or walk. Just that, when you checked, you saw your fucking purse was no where to be seen. You had forgotten it in the cab. And of course you didn’t own a credit card at the moment, having cancelled the one you had made back in Germany. Fucking great. No credit card equaled no Apple Play. 

All that was left now was hoping for a miracle. You started walking, remembering a small Inn not far and as fate allowed you, the woman behind the counter was kind enough to take in your luggage while you went and looked for… someone to help you. Just then, your mother called, letting you know she and your dad were stuck on the motorway behind a big accident, which meant they couldn’t come pick you up and get you to their place. But they knew where Chris was and were happy to share that information with you.

Chris was at a pub. Which could mean only so many things. Either, he was there for football and you knew there was no game he wanted to watch this evening, or he was there with his friends to catch a drink. And that’s exactly what you had wanted to avoid. His friends. Or at least one of them. 

Which is how we get to now. Obviously, you swallow down your pride. Obviously, there is no other rational decision than to run to your brother and maybe face who you don’t want to see. 

You thank your own training for not being completely done and dead when you reach the pub. How utterly idiotic of you to wear heels today. Your feet are the only part of you that feels like it’s dead. 

Pushing open the door, you are welcomed by the familiar feeling of being in a pub in London, loud voices and laughter and quiet rock music in the background. People are singing along or ignoring the music altogether and you can spot your brother’s head even though he is rather small. 

Taking a deep breath, you make your way through the crowd and only stop when you reach the left corner of the room, where Chris is getting beer downed into his mouth by none other than Isaac Smith, who looks like he is having the time of his life. You spot the camera and bite down on your lip - right, there had been option three. Being here with his friends and filming. God damnit. 

You allowed yourself to look at the other people around the table and feel your heart sink. He’s here. Of course, he is here. 

He’s not the first notice you, instead it’s Arthur Hill, who blinks up a few times, unsure if he’s seeing things or if it’s really you, Chris’ sister who had left for Germany a good six months ago for an internship. 

“Am I drunk or is Y/N standing there?” He says, stretching out his arm and pointing at you. 

Even though the music and other guest’s loud conversation doesn’t stop, it somehow seems extremely quiet when several pairs of eyes are suddenly on you. 

Isaac moves his hand and accidentally pours beer all over Chris’ shirt and the latter yells in protest - that is until he registers Arthur’s voice and sees all his friends staring at the same spot. He swirls around and, indeed, there you are. 

His eyes widen and he immediately jumps over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“Y/N, you’re back!” He sounds so happy and it warms your heart, but you can’t really be as happy as him, not when your eyes are glued to who broke your heart six months ago. 

George looks just as surprised as everyone else, but there is something behind his pretty eyes. Something you can’t quite point your finger at, something that makes your stomach fall down to your feet. 

“When- what?” Chris parts from you again, his hands staying on your arms, looking you up and down.

“I wanted to surprise you,” your eyes finally move from George to your brother.

“Oh, and that you did!” He smiles and hugs you again. “When did you arrive?”

You tell Chris the story of today, the cameras turning off and you finding your way between Arthur TV and Isaac, Chris across from you, George next to him. You notice that Arthur Hill isn’t here, but decide not to ask about him. Not right now, at least.

“Well,” Chris clears his throat, “I meant to tell you about your apartment complex, I really did, but, uh, I kind of…–”

“He forgot,” Arthur interrupts him, “that’s literally all there is to it. All your stuff is safely in storage.” He smiles at you and you raise your brows.

“As wonderful at that is - where the fuck am I supposed to sleep tonight?”

“You can sleep at our place!” Chris says quickly, placing his hand on top of yours, “of course, you can sleep at our place. I’ll take the couch and-,”

“No, thanks,” you interrupt him, eyes beginning to sting (oh, how much you hate your traitorous heart).

Silence breaks out at your table. The camera men are very focused on their phones, Isaac twirls his thumbs and Arthur’s mouth is hanging open slightly. You don’t look at George and feel just a tad of guilt when you see Chris’ features change.

“Oh, I- I’m sorry, I forgot, uhm.” He scratches his head. “Maybe the first thing to do should be calling the taxi company and get your purse back, yeah?” 

Without even waiting for a reply, Chris gets up and takes his phone out of his pocket. You had told him the taxi company earlier and of course, as a big brother would, he decided to take it upon himself to solve that problem for you. 

“Y/N,” George suddenly speaks up and you feel your heart jump, “I can crash somewhere else tonight if that makes you more comfortable.”

You hate how the sound of his soft voice and the way he looks at you makes you wanna cry and beg him to take you back. Even after six months he’s still there, at the forefront of your mind, not leaving you alone even for a second. Arthur and Isaac excuse themselves, mumbling something about having to use the washroom and you feel your cheeks heat.

“Just because you’re not there doesn’t mean the memories aren’t either.” You reply and George presses his lips together. He wants to say something, you can tell by the way he looks at you. It’s scary how you can still read him after so many months apart. But then, he had been yours to look at and hold for three years, perhaps it would’ve been scarier had you not been able to read his face.

“You left so abruptly after we broke up, Y/N, I thought maybe we could-,”

“You mean after you broke up with me?” More heat rises within you. “After you broke my heart, after you threw away our future?”

George shifts uncomfortably on his seat, lowering his head.

“Y/N, I told you back then that I am really sorry, I swear to god, if I could change the way I feel, I would.”

Again, your heart shatters and leaves nothing in your chest but aching pain. Closing your eyes, you remember what he told you back then. 

“You were my first ever real love, Y/N. I loved you every second since the day I met you, but- but I don’t feel that way anymore. I don’t know when it happened, and I hate myself for it, but there is… there are no feelings left. Nothing romantic, at least. I still love you, I always will, but not… like that. I’m so sorry.”

It wasn’t fair back then and it surely isn’t fair now. Him falling out of love with you when you were ready for more, when you had planned everything in your life with him by your side. 

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t feel ready to be back in that apartment.”

For more reasons than just the breakup. But you were definitely not going to think of that right now.

In all honesty, you aren’t even ready to be back in this city, but the internship ended and you didn’t really want to stay in Germany either. Your parents are rarely ever in the city and since you planned to just go home after arriving at Heathrow, you hadn’t even asked them to come pick you up. Looks like that initial idea is now biting you in the ass. 

“They have your wallet and will bring it over.” Chris walks back in and you look up at him, relieved to move on from whatever this conversation was with George. 

“Perfect.” You sigh and get up, not giving George even one more ounce of your attention even though it kills you inside. 

“I still think you should come with me,” Chris puts his arm around you, eyes glancing between you and the table George is sitting at, “I know it’s weird, but I haven’t seen you in six months, sis, I really wanna hang out with you. You can totally take my room and I’ll take the couch and George can crash at Arthur’s.”

You understand the sentiment, you really do. And a part of you wants to be with your brother for the night, wants to be back home with him and just feel… safe. But even if George were to stay away for the night, he wasn’t… the only one you were avoiding. 

Chewing on your lip, you avoid Chris’ eyes. There was no way in hell you were ever going to tell him - or anyone for that matter. What happens in Germany, stays in Germany. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling this… thing will come back and bite you in the ass at some point. 

“Chris…,” you begin, but your brother shakes his head.

“No, no. I won’t take a no for an answer, Y/N. When the cab comes, let it take you to my place, alright? Arthur is there, he can open the door for you.”

Yeah, and that’s exactly why I don’t wanna go there.

Just that you can’t say that. With a sigh, you finally give in. 

Which brings you to the apartment door you had seen countless times before. That you have knocked on with every emotion possible. Happy, sad, angry, unsure. 

And now, as you slowly lift your arm, your freshly picked up suitcase standing to your right, you knock on the wood with your stomach turning like a washer and your heart beating at maximum speed. 

The door swings open and the man standing in front of you has damp hair on top of his head, a towel hanging over his shoulders. He is wearing a grey shirt and black joggers and your jaw tenses.

Arthur Hill looks handsome as ever. Just that seeing him now doesn’t make you happy or relieved. Who used to be one of your closest friends is something else now. It’s not like with George; George broke your heart out of nowhere, made you into something you never believed you could be when it came to him. But Arthur? 

“Hey.” He breathes out now, his eyes not able to stay on your own for long. “Chris called ahead, I, uh, it’s good to see you.”

Good to see you? You almost laugh at the sheer lie in his words. Quickly you nod and grab your suitcase by the handle, walking into the apartment past Arthur, who steps back and looks after you.

“Y/N-,” he starts, but you just hurry into Chris’ room, ignoring the door leading to George’s and pushing your suitcase inside. Heart still beating like a drum in a high beat metal song, you finally face Arthur who continues to stand in the hallway looking as lost as you feel.

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?” You ask, your voice sharp. He shakes his head.

“Of course I didn’t.” He responds, his hands finding the edges of the towel hanging over his broad shoulders. You nod.

“Good. Let’s keep it this way,” you cross your arms. 

Arthur nods, his curls slowly bouncing on his head. His hair got longer since the last time you saw him. Something stirs within you when you think about that one night in Munich three months ago. When you remember how his hands felt on your skin and how his lips tasted like that horrible cheap wine you got drunk on. 

The memory is fresh and yet seems so god damn far away. It’s like a blur but still clean as day. It doesn’t make any sense. But then - when has sleeping with your ex’s best friend ever made sense?

“We should still talk about it. Eventually, I mean.” Arthur is just too good of a guy. You knew back then and you know now. Which makes the whole encounter so much more awkward. It surprises you to a good extent he even still lives here - not just with George but also your brother.

“Arthur,” you sigh, pulling a hand through your hair, but before you can get another word out, the door opens once more and your face falls when you see George stepping in. 

“Oh.” He just says, eyes glancing between you and Arthur. Your chest tightens and you quickly look to the floor, hating the way your eyes begin to sting again.

“I’m tired. I’ll go lay down. See you tomorrow.” You say, hoping George knows you are not talking to him.

When the door shuts behind you, you lean against it and for the first time since you’ve stepped into the pub earlier, you feel like you can breathe again.

[siinlight]

My only gripe rn is tumblr staff will literally never listen to its user base like... you have the majority of the sites users against big updates that just don't fix anything and actually make the user experience Worse.... there is no effort in the sites staff to actually listen to complaints. Feel like tumblr could just lose its user base and they'd act like they don't know why

[captain-bubble-wrap]

loved your sick gf/helpful quinn post

can we get a sick quinn this time? I feel like he'd be a big baby when he's sick

THE BIGGEST BABY

Quinn had coughed all night.

It had started off small but had quickly developed into something more consistent and with a persistent wheeze alongside it. He seemed so uncomfortable: tossing and turning, trembling with the chills and cold sweats. It seemed like with each passing hour a new symptom appeared: from the cough to finally the body aches. You wanted to soothe his pain and make him comfortable but he just pushed you away, It had kind of hurt your feelings having him reject you time and again, but you were just trying to help. Best you could do was tell yourself it was just because he felt bad and that he didn't mean to be that way.

By this point, you couldn't sleep. Quinn's constant shifting and coughing had given you no peace or himself for that matter. Sometime in the night, you grabbed your pillow and went to the sofa instead, You didn't want to leave him, but if he was sick, he would need someone to care for him come the morning. If you were running on a couple hours sleep, it wasn't going to be you; you might as well be sick right alongside of him.

Even from the living room, you could hear him cough, hear the wheeze cause him so much pain with its ability to take his breath away. You probably didn't sleep any more on the sofa than you would have beside him. Every so often you'd force yourself to get up and check on him. He had a fever and was burning up yet he appeared to be asleep. Quinn needed medicine and as soon as possible but you weren't about to wake him up to take any. Instead, you'd dig through the bathroom cabinets and find some multi-symptom cough syrup. The label said it would help counteract each of the things Quinn was dealing with but would it be enough? You'd leave it on his bedside table for the next time a coughing fit woke him.

When morning came around he seemed worse. Congestion had set in and it had changed the sound of his voice to something nasally instead of its usually velvety tone. Getting him to take anything was like pulling teeth because he just wanted to lay with the pillow over his head, hidden from everything especially the morning light. Though Quinn wasn't normally the dramatic type, when he was sick, it was like the end of the world.

"Baby, please, just take this and I'll leave you alone. That's all I asking you to do."

"I'm fine. I just-- I'm fine," he said from under the covers.

"You're not and you know it. Please, just take it?"

"I just need to sleep it off."

You tried to contain your sigh but it was hard. He was being completely unreasonable and it was starting to wear on your nerves. If he just took the medicine it would help but getting him to see that point wasn't going your way. This wasn't the first time he had probably felt like this, so why was he being such a baby?

"Why won't you take it, Quinn?"

There was a long pause. You knew he wasn't asleep. Was he ignoring you in the hopes that you'd give up and just walk away? If that were the case, you were close to it.

"Okay, fine. Suit yourself." Leaving the medicine on the table, you'd leave the room defeated. What else were you supposed to do? He didn't want to be touched, loved on, or anything but left alone. At least that's how it seemed. Even simple conversations were proving to be a battle.

You shut the bedroom door behind you and went to the kitchen. Food didn't seem like the magical end-all-be-all cure to his cold but if he didn't want it then you'd just take it for yourself. Soup seemed like the best choice even if it was the cliche option. "Comforting to the soul and stomach," your mom always said when you were sick. However, a quick assessment of the pantry revealed you didn't have what you needed for soup.

Instead of sticking your head back into the bedroom to let him know you were headed out, you texted his phone saying something similar.

"I'm going to the store. I'll be back in a bit."

Short and painfully to the point. It wouldn't be until you were in Quinn's car that you felt guilty for how you had come off. You'd text him once more before finally leaving; trying to rewrite your sour attitude towards him.

"I love you."

- - -

When you returned to the apartment, you could see signs of life that hadn't been there before. The cough medicine was now on the island; the used dosing cup had remnants of the syrup still in the bottom, A loaf of bread was poorly wrapped up alongside it, and what looked like a simple cheese sandwich sat on a napkin with one bite taken out of it. And finally, on the sofa, was a bundled up Quinn, his tangled curls spilling out over one of the pillows he rested his head on.

"Hi," he said, when you walked past him. His tone was defeated, moping even. Had you hurt his feelings? It wasn't your intention to, but it was just frustrating trying to help someone who just came off like they would rather stay miserable.

"Hi, baby."

"Where did you go? I came out and you were gone." Quinn didn't lift his head off the pillow or even his eyes. When you looked over at him he was looking at your feet.

"I texted you. I went to the store to get stuff to make you soup."

"I haven't looked at my phone. You didn't have to do that." His monotone was worse now, tinged slightly with his own flavour of annoyance.

Had you been in a worse mood, you would have said something about checking his phone, but instead you were able to bite your tongue. He didn't feel good, you had to remind yourself of this fact. This wasn't your Quinn - your sweet Huggy Bear - this was someone struggling with their body fighting against them to get better. You knew Quinn would never purposefully give you an attitude or be short with you, and the same should have been said about you.

"I'm sorry I was short with you, Quinn," you finally get out. You had hoped that would have removed some weight from your chest but instead it only made it heavier. He still wouldn't look at you. In fact, he closed his eyes after you had spoken your apology. Seeing him ignore you that way felt terrible, but you felt you had earned his cold shoulder. You had been sick a few times since you had been together and Quinn had been so kind and selfless. What had given you the right to be so unsympathetic?

"It's fine," he said, snuggling deeper into his self-made cocoon.

"It's not fine." Your heart hurts as you cross the room to kneel before where he lay. "Honey, I'm sorry." You brush the sweat-matted hair from his forehead. He was burning up with fever but this time he managed to look at you. He looked like he could melt into tears at any moment.

"I'm sorry I ignored you earlier," he replied, meeting you halfway with his own apology.

"You don't feel good, Quinn, it's okay. I'm sorry I got mad. I had no right to."

Quinn sniffled, either from the congestion or just because he was getting that emotional. Either way, you leaned forward and gave him a tender kiss to his forehead. This made the faintest smile appear on his half-concealed lips.

"You probably shouldn't kiss me," he mumbles, silently thankful for the gentle affection. Deep down, he wanted it; wanted to be babied and taken care of but instead of asking for it, he just found himself coming off as hard-headed.

"It's alright," you reassure him, a second kiss finding its mark along with the first. "I'll just get sick right with you."

"I don't want you to get sick, though."

"I know you don't but sometimes it happens. At least we'll have soup." You give him a smile, the first one that day. He returns the sentiment.

"What kind?"

"Broccoli cheddar and the classic chicken noodle. Which do you want first?"

"You got stuff for both?" His little voice sounded shocked, amazed that you'd treat him to two different types of soup varieties. Sometimes it was the little things that made the biggest impact.

"Of course I did."

Quinn tried to sit but got winded halfway through, a coughing fit taking what strength he had built up.

"Oh, baby, you need to rest. How about you get a nap and I'll wake you up when I get something done?"

"Okay."

"It's okay, sweetheart, I'll manage." You wink, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay, and that you could handle some soup-making alone. When you stood up, you caught the subtle trembling from under his blanket. "I'm going to get you another blanket, okay?"

"Okay."

Those short responses you recognized were the best he could do at the time and didn't strike a nerve like they had earlier. But walking away from him still hurt like it had the first time, and you could feel his eyes on you still. From a tote under your bed, you found a heated blanket your parents had sent you after you made the decision to move to Vancouver. Hopefully this would bring Quinn some more consistent heat despite his body running his internal thermostat like a child left unsupervised.

"Here, baby, this should help you. Do you want this overtop or...?"

"I want that one," he said, pulling the original one from his body as best he could.

"It's okay, it's okay. Here, let me get it," you say, helping Quinn untuck himself before draping him with the ultra-plush heated one. "Should be nice and hot in just a few minutes."

"Thank you," he said, gripping it tightly. "Thanks for helping me."

"Thank you for letting me. I'm going to go make you some soup, okay? I'll try to be quiet so I don't wake you."

"I'll just...I'll be right here," he said through a yawn, the medicine finally kicking in and lulling him to sleep.

[just1cefor4ll]

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

—modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. not proof read, might be OOC, swearing

part one || part two || part three

‼️A/N. if anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this fic, let me know!! ‼️

‘I need someome to show me the things

in life that I can’t find.’

With a loud thud, Powder burst into the room, stumbling over her own feet and nearly causing your morning coffee to spill all over your art project—a project due in just under a week. "Powder! Jesus—slow down!" you exclaimed, letting out a frustrated groan as you steadied your coffee mug. Taking a long sip to steady your nerves, you swiveled in your desk chair to face her, one brow raised in curiosity. "So, what’s got you in such a rush?"

Powder was practically vibrating with excitement, her energy contagious enough to turn your initial annoyance into amusement. "You know that café with the whole vintage, 80s vibe you’ve been dying to visit?" she began, her tone filled with anticipation. Immediately, your ears perked up, and your confusion began to shift into hope. “Yeah, what about it? They’re always booked solid. Did something happen?” Instead of answering, she squealed with delight and shoved her phone in front of your face. On the screen was a reservation confirmation—a table for eight at 12 o’clock.

Your eyes widened as you did a double take. “No way.” Checking the time, you saw you had exactly an hour and fifteen minutes to get ready. Without hesitation, you pulled Powder into a quick hug and kissed her forehead before running off to prepare.

As you enter the bathroom you decide to style your hair in the way you always did for special occasions. It was a routine you knew by heart, and the familiarity calmed your excitement enough to let you focus. Opening your chaotic closet, you scanned its contents and grabbed the first outfit that caught your eye. You layered it with accessories that reflected your personal style before glancing at the clock. "Forty-five minutes," you muttered, impressed with your speed. Thankfully, waking up early to shower and do your skincare routine meant you had saved yourself a lot of stress—a rare victory you silently thanked your past self for.

Powder, now pacing the dorm trying to think of what to get at the café, noticed you were ready and practically dragged you to the full-length mirror she had insisted on bringing to your shared space earlier in the semester.

"Wait! Stay still," she commanded, snapping a quick picture of the two of you. You struck a playful pose at the last second, making her giggle as she added the picture to her camera roll, no doubt planning to post it later along with the many already planned ahead photo ideas she had in mind.

Powder grinned and grabbed your hand, practically bouncing out the door as you both made your way toward what promised to be an unforgettable day.

Oh and unforgettable it was.

You arrived at the subway station and met up with everyone— except Mel and Jayce who decided they’d go by car since it was the best possible option for them as they were out earlier that morning and were just 10 minutes away from your destination.

Viktor was seated next to you while the others had run off to find a place to sit in the packed space which had been a bit uncomfortable since everyone was standing body to body and god knows how many pervs were lurking around. You absentmindedly scooted closer to Viktor, bumping into his cane which almost hit the person standing next to you before you luckily caught it. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t thinking straight— shit, is it damaged or anything? I’ll buy you whatever you please at that cafe, I’m sorry.” You stuttered out, earning a teasing grin from Viktor. “No harm done, but if you’re offering..” You breathe out a relieved sigh, chuckling sheepishly; “I mean I don’t mind getting you something. It could be like a thanks for listening to me and my band play.” And with that, it was settled.

When the train pulled into your stop, everyone spilled out onto the platform. Ekko stumbled dramatically, throwing his arms up as if he’d just escaped certain doom. "Oh my god fresh air!" he exclaimed, drawing laughter from the group. “Alright, let’s go," Vi said in a commanding tone. "We’ve got twenty minutes until our reservation, so move it, squirts, and Vik." She said, Powder flipping her off as a faint; “Hey! Why’d you leave Viktor out of your pathetic try at an insult?” could be heard as all of them climbed up the stairs ahead of you and the man mentioned.

The walk to the café was surprisingly quiet, save for Powder and Ekko’s chatter. Viktor’s cane tapped rhythmically against the pavement, a sound that seemed to echo in the silence. You fiddled with your sleeves absentmindedly, still replaying your earlier clumsiness in your mind. Noticing your fidgeting, Viktor broke the silence. "I heard you’ve been wanting to visit this place since the start of the semester," he said, his tone more observational than questioning. You looked at him, caught slightly off guard by his comment. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice softening. "I’ve always loved the vibe. It’d be a dream to play there, but it’s just one of those things that probably won’t happen." Viktor frowned slightly at your words. "Why not? You’ve got the talent. And, dare I say, a very charming personality. There’s no doubt you could swoon the manager over and into giving you a gig—maybe even by next week."

His confidence in you made your cheeks flush, a shy smile spreading across your face. "Viktor, you really have a way with words it’s truly admirable," you said with a laugh. "You know, you’re the kind of person they’d write rock songs about."

Before he could respond, you giggled and darted ahead to catch up with the rest of the group, who were now gathered at the café’s entrance. Viktor watched you go, a faint smile playing at his lips before he made his way over to where Jayce and Mel were waiting.

The café was a dream come to life. Warm signs flickered gently against the dark wood walls, and the faint crackle of vinyl played on an old jukebox in the corner. Every detail—from the checkered floor to the vintage records and trinkets on the shelves.. it all felt so unreal. The stained glass also added on to the whole vibe, the colourful glass reflecting the suns beautiful rays onto the floor, walls and even booths giving it that magical touch.

You couldn’t help but smile as you took it all in. Powder was already snapping pictures with her phone, Ekko leaning into the frame and striking goofy poses. Caitlyn and Vi claimed the booth’s corner seats, their hands brushing as they shared a menu. Jayce and Mel arrived shortly after, bringing the group all together.

The energy was vibrant, the table filled with overlapping conversations and laughter as everyone admired the café’s welcoming and cozy aura. Viktor took a seat beside you again, his quiet presence somehow grounding amidst all the noise.

"See?" Powder beamed, nudging your shoulder. "Worth the rush, right?" "Totally," you admitted, leaning back and savoring the moment. "This place is amazing." As everyone placed their orders, Viktor leaned slightly toward you, his voice low so only you could hear. "Do you still think playing here is just a dream?" His question caught you off guard. You looked at him, unsure of how to respond. "I mean... yeah? It’s not like places like this to just hand out gigs to random people. I doubt they’d want a rock band playing here anyway.. especially not college students.” He let your words sink in for a while before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Who knows. Sometimes you just need the right connections to make things happen.”

Before you could press him on what he meant, the food and drinks arrived, and the table erupted into excitement. Plates of waffles, milkshakes, coffee and a whole bunch of other delicious dishes were passed around, each one looking like it had stepped straight out of a retro diner ad.

Ekko was the first to dive in, immediately stealing a bite from Powder’s plate. "Hey!" she protested, smacking his hand away with a laugh. Everyone dug in and continued their conversations, you yourself indulging in a conversation with Mel and Jayce who were curious about your career choice and major which you were more then happy to talk about. They stared in awe as you explained how you met each member and how you all formed the band, Powder and Ekko later joining in and as did Caitlyn.

At some point, Viktor excused himself, disappearing for a whole 15 minutes but you decided to let it go, indulging in whatever topic your friends had brought up.

When Viktor returned, he wore an expression that was far too pleased with himself. You raised an eyebrow, but he simply shrugged and slid back into his seat, redirecting the conversation effortlessly.

The group lingered at the café for over an hour, soaking in the atmosphere and sharing stories. When it finally was time to leave, you felt a pang of reluctance but pushed it aside, grateful for the experience.

As the group made their way out, Viktor fell into step beside you. "You might want to keep your calendar clear for next weekend," he said casually, his tone light but meaningful. You frowned, confused. "Why?" "Let’s just say you’ll need it free," he replied cryptically, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

You wanted to press him for more details, but the others were already calling for you to catch up. The walk back was just as lively as before, Powder and Ekko bickering playfully while Vi and Caitlyn walked hand in hand.

All the while, Viktor’s words echoed in your mind, sparking a tiny ember of excitement you couldn’t quite extinguish.

The days that followed Viktor’s very vague message had you up and restless all night. You tried to keep yourself busy—between classes, band practice, and working on your art project, you thought you could distract yourself with but Viktor’s words lingered like a riddle you couldn’t solve.

Powder was no help either. “You’re overthinking it,” she said casually one night as you both sat in your dorm. “Am I?” you asked, strumming a chord on your guitar. “He tells me to keep my calendar clear and then refuses to explain anything. How am I not supposed to think about it?” Powder shrugged, lying back on her bed with her phone in hand. “Look, maybe it’s something cool, or maybe it’s just Viktor being, y’know, Viktor. Either way, freaking out isn’t gonna help.”

You sighed, knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the curiosity from eating at you. Viktor was too intentional, too precise for this to be random. Whatever he had planned, it wasn’t something small.

By Wednesday, your patience had worn thin. After class, you spotted Viktor in the library, surrounded by notes and his laptop, indulged in his work. Deciding you couldn’t wait any longer, you walked over and slid into the seat across from him. He looked up, mildly surprised but not displeased. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirked, knowing exactly why you were there.

“You know exactly why I’m here,” you said, folding your arms. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “Do I?” “You’ve been playing this weird game of mystery all week,” you said, exasperated. “Come on, just spill it already. What’s going on?” Viktor chuckled softly, amused by your little outburst. “You’re impatient,” he observed. “Yeah, and you’re avoiding the question,” you shot back, brows furrowed with annoyance.

Viktor’s smirk widened slightly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Perhaps. But where’s the fun in revealing everything so soon?” You narrowed your eyes at him, torn between frustration and curiosity. “You know, not everyone enjoys playing your shitty guessing games, Viktor.” He leaned forward, resting his hands lightly on his cane. “And yet, here you are, thoroughly invested.”

You opened your mouth to retort but stopped, realizing he was right. “Fine,” you said with a resigned sigh, leaning back in your chair. “But if this turns out to be some overhyped bullshit, I swear to god Viktor I’ll smash my guitar against your head.” You said, of course not meaning the petty threat seariously since guitars were hella expensive but you definitely were annoyed.

Viktor’s chuckle deepened, the corners of his mouth twitching in a rare, genuine smile. “Noted. But I don’t think you’ll be disappointed rockstar.”

taglist: @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

[myfandomrealitea]

hi! just asking your opinion on RPF, i’m very very new to the proship/fanfic community and really don’t know how to feel abt it. i haven’t heard anyone’s takes on it so far so i’d love to hear your thoughts!

RPF is just another form of fiction. Its no different to any kind of other fictional literature, fandom space, creative action, ect. The people are, essentially, just characters. You're using them to tell a story.

A lot of people's issue with RPF comes into play because of individuals who ignore the proper etiquette behind RPF and ruin it for everyone. The general concern is that unlike fictional characters, real people are capable of seeing what you create and getting upset, offended or angry over it.

This is where its important to remember the following rules regarding RPF:

Never send RPF to the people whom it concerns, people close to them or people in reasonable contact with them. Personally, even if an actor has said they don't mind RPF about themselves, I wouldn't push it on them. Accepting something's existence isn't always the same as wanting to be invested or involved in it.

Similar to above, make sure you're not tagging them or using searches the person is known to frequent. (E.g; if you're posting ship art, don't tag the people involved.)

Where possible, keep RPF to closed-off websites like AO3 and Tumblr where the people involved would actually have to go looking for it in order to be exposed to it. (Sites like X are next to impossible to actually curate and monitor and are awful for this kind of thing.)

Ensure you are properly tagging and marking your content so in the instance it can't fully be prevented from reaching the person/people, they are explicitly aware of what it is. (Another reason why sites like Tumblr and AO3 are simply the best option.)

Anyone who is famous will be aware that there are people who view them and use their image sexually. Every single famous person knows this. In industries like kpop, even, bromances are actively marketed because they know its lucrative and sought after.

Famous people are also more than aware of how to avoid content they don't want to see. They're aware of sites like AO3 and know once they go there its a lawless (albeit well tagged) wasteland of hardcore smut and the unimaginable. They know if they don't want to see certain things they simply have to stay away from certain platforms, tags, key words, ect.

Famous people aren't helpless little ducklings accidentally stumbling upon twisted non-con fanfic of them and their colleagues on an hourly basis like some people assume.

Although RPF is just another form of fiction is does require a bit more respect, conduct and consideration. That's all.

[meglosthegreat]

"It was fun, but it got a little boring by the end" is perhaps the most common review of Veilguard's combat that I've seen. No one seems to have strong opinions about it, overall. As far as things to have beef with this game over, it doesn't even make the shortlist, really. I mean, it was fine.

But hell, I'm not above being petty, especially when it comes to this game. So amidst all the other things wrong with this game, here's my hot take: Bioware doesn't understand RPG combat, and why it's useful in, you know, RPGs, as they ostensibly claim to make.

This didn't start with Veilguard, though Veilguard is obviously the subject of this post. It was apparent since before DAI that they were gravitating towards action combat, and I had a lot of problems with Inquisition's system at the time. But Veilguard took it even further, doubling down on their pivot away from RPG mechanics. And, well, I don't think a proper RPG system could've saved this game. But it could've given the game something it desperately lacks - replayability.

RPGs are long games, are driven by the premise that most players will not follow the exact same path towards the end, and above all, are designed to be played in as many ways as possible. This is why character classes exist; why there are multiple weapons to choose from, and why there are more party members to pick from than can fit in your party at once. This works when you consider the other hallmarks of RPGs: different story paths, dialogue choices, and romance options. Variation outside of combat compliments variation within it, and this makes a good RPG something you can play several times and have a completely different experience each time.

And more than that, the mechanics of an RPG compliment a game that could take anywhere from 80-100 hours to complete. You NEED that level of choice within the game mechanics to get you through that long a game, and Veilguard's problem is that it has the length of an RPG, but the combat system of your average 30-40 hour action game.

Of course, there are excellent action games out there that are also up in the 100-hour range, but what these games do that Veilguard did not, is put the majority of focus on their combat systems. Elden Ring is probably the best example of this, but of course we wouldn't want a Dragon Age that's like Elden Ring, really - Dragon Age needs to have more going for it than just combat. And if you can't build your whole game around its combat system, then you need something that has the longevity to sustain a 100-hour runtime.

Everyone bemoaning the lack of direct companion control is absolutely correct - their lack of damage output and usefulness compared to the player renders them basically meaningless in combat. But what this also does is make any kind of customization of their abilities or their gear next to pointless. Even if you could replay this game and build them differently - which you can't, let's be clear - doing so would not make a single iota of difference in combat.

And Rook themselves - well, consensus is that the game starts to get boring about 40 hours in. That's roughly the place where you've gotten enough skill points to specialize in one thing, and though, sure, you could theoretically refund all your points and try something else, by that time you've gotten enough points to acquire all the skills in the general tree anyway. It doesn't help that the gear system is such that whichever items you happen to get early will probably be the ones you end up sticking with. It definitely doesn't help that the enemies in this game severely lack variation, and once you've fought one dragon, you've fought them all.

You know what would have helped? Giving people multiple ways to approach combat. Giving us enemies that require a different approach. Giving us companions that you can build out in interesting ways. Giving us, in short, a reason to play this game again. Because if you're going to create an 80-100 hour game that has very little else going on mechanically, then the very least you can do is make sure your combat is actually fun for the full 100 hours.

[bitbybitwrites]

I was tagged by : @porcelainmortal, @alasse9 @forabeatofadrum

Thanks for thinking of me! . . I should really do this before 2024 is up, right? 😂

BTW its still Dec 31 here where I am, so I'll say it counts.

I've done a lot more than I expected this year, as I look back. And I'm kind of proud of myself.

I started writing for another fandom - RWRB. Its been fun adding these characters to the mix.

I managed finishing 1 multi-chapter fic and a 11 shorter fics.

I'm still plugging away on 3 longer multi-chapter WIP, adding and posting chapters as I go.

I have compiled an additional WIP list of (*stops to count*) 16 other fics that are not posted yet, but are in various stages of readiness. I flitter around adding bits to each when inpiration hits.

I think that's about it for me for 2024 - still writing, slow and steady. 😊

I'm always so happy to see any of kudos and comments if you have left any . . . and I'm still really apologetic that I haven't gotten to responding to many. There's only so much time in the day. I will try to get to them!

WRITING GOALS FOR 2025: Basically write more, and write as often as I can. There are so many of my WIP I want to get into and finish . . hopefully some of you will find them interesting to read!

Wishing you all a Happy New Year and a productive and creative 2025! I look forward to seeing/reading all you create!

See links and descriptions to everything under the cut!

1.) COMPLETED FICS

April 2024

Falling For You (Klaine fic) - 26,089 words

Summary:

Kurt Hummel thought by donating his services as a florist to Memorial Sloan Kettering, that he would simply be giving back to the medical community. A good deed for the month of December. Little did he know that a few chance run-ins with an adorable doctor and a sweet little girl in the hospital lobby would change all that. Written for the Klaine Secret Santa 2023 Gift Exchange.

May 2024

Pretty Shiny things (Klaine fic) - 1,943 words

Summary:

The clangs and shrieks of the alarm system at Christie's Auction House filled the corridors, echoing through the mostly empty building. They were just as loud as the beating of Kurt and Blaine's hearts as they raced down corridor after corridor while they attempted to escape. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Kurt growled through his teeth as he ran, slipping slightly on the polished marble floor as he turned another corner. “I leave you alone for five minutes . . . FIVE MINUTES, Blaine. What on earth did you do?” **** Discovered a fun new thing on Tumblr called Ficlet Friday. This ficlet was inspired by a dialogue prompt by annepi: Prompt: Klaine - “I leave you alone for five minutes...”

June 2024

hold me close (FirstPrince fic) - 836 words

Summary:

Alex has had a rough day. It's a good thing that Henry's home to take care of him. For a Ficlet Friday prompt : "Tell me anything. Everything.”

blythe spirit (FirstPrince fic) - 1,756 words

Summary:

“I . . . I don't know why you're even interested." “Baby, I love you.  I'm interested in everything about you." Alex gave Henry a very pointed and heated look that definitely hit the mark. The flush on Henry’s face now deepened.  He worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a few moments as he considered his options. “Come on,” Alex softly cajoled.  “You can’t just say things like: ‘I played Elvira in a school production of Blythe Spirit’ and not expect me to ask for pictures . . or at least the lowdown on it all.”  Alex pouted again to prove his point.  “I’m a weak man, H.  These are the types of things I need to know more about.” ***** From a Friday Ficlet prompt: "Tell Me anything. Everything."

nightfall (Klaine fic) - 219 words

Summary:

Blaine sighed as he collapsed onto the sand. With his chin upon his knees and arms wrapped around his legs, Blaine gazed out toward the ocean, deciding that the purple-ish pink sky that stretched out before him was absolutely breathtaking. If only he had his camera with him. It would be a perfect addition to his next gallery exhibit. ***** Based off a Tumblr Prompt/Ask Game - "Create a microstory from the prompt selected" Thanks to Falles for giving me: "49 - nightfall"

i'll always come back to you (FirstPrince fic) - 504 words

Summary:

Alex will always come back to Henry . . .always Based on a microstory prompt: #32 - dust motes

July 2024

fire island follies (Klaine fic) - 3,027 words

Summary:

Blaine Anderson is off to a weekend on Fire Island - well, his good friend Santana is draggng him on one. He's not so sure it's the best thing to do - but a run-in with a beautiful performer from the Fire Island Follies quickly changes his mind. ****** From a Tumblr Friday Ficlet prompt from bowtiesandboatshoes : "We're going to Fire Island.  It's like gay Disney World." Title is from an actual burlesque/cabaret show: The Fire Island Follies

i hate waiting (FirstPrince fic) - 555 Words

Summary:

Alex needs to keep his daughter from being bored.   inspired by this adorable picture on Tumblr by wordsofhoneydew

study date (Klaine fic) - 945 words

Summary:

"Get your hands off me!" The sound of a scuffle had Kurt look up from his reading. To be honest, Divination was such a bore of a class. It's not like he needed to learn anything new about it. Kurt had all of his mother's crystals, divination tools, and journals tucked away in her old trunk up in the attic of their home. He could read tea leaves and scry with the best of them. He had long ago lost focus on the chapter Professor Holiday had assigned them for the evening, so at this point, any other distraction would be welcome. Even if it was prefect duties.

Originally this was a bit of a false start for my fic, Advanced Potions

The original prompt was "hogwarts!au + 4. meet messy + 6. "what is that?"

August 2024

what can compare with your beautiful sound (Klaine fic) - 1,183 words

Summary:

Kurt’s brow furrowed as he concentrated on the task at hand. He had to get it just right. His hand hovered just a few inches higher, and with a deft flick of his wrist, a drop of wax fell from the lit candle in his hand to his canvas below. The canvas moaned in ecstasy. “Now, darling, we don’t want to shift, now do we?" Kurt softly murmured as he leaned in close. "You've been such a good boy for me so far." ***** Based off of a microstory prompt from Tumblr : "candles"

November 2024

smutsgiving/wanksgiving 2024: rwrb/firstprince - 662 words

Summary:

Prince Henry has been given a new gift for his bedchamber. Entry for Smutsgiving/Wanksgiving 2024.

smutsgiving/wanksgiving 2024: klaine - 580 Words

Summary:

Dinner was lovely, but Blaine is really ready to go home. Entry for Smutsgiving/Wanksgiving 2024.

2.) PARTIALLY PUBLISHED WIP:

(Klaine) If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - (Klaine Reverse Bang 2023) Life in New York City and working in the restaurant industry wasn’t exactly what Kurt Hummel had expected it would be. He’s lonely, stressed out and miserable. He’s almost ready to throw in the towel and return home to Ohio when a chance meeting with a musician in Central Park changes everything. (Warning: an angsty rollercoaster of a ride. Soooo many cameos from Glee characters! 😉)

(RWRB) Puppy Love - (RWRB NYE gift exchange 2023) The cold snowy day that Henry Fox discovers an abandoned beagle puppy in an alley brings handsome, flirty veterinarian, Alex Claremont-Diaz into his life. Alex is a single dad, recently moved to NY with his young son who Henry hasn't met yet - or so Alex thought. (Fluffy kid!fic)

(Klaine) Sanctuary - (Klaine Word Scramble 2023) Crown Prince Blaine has stumbled into a secluded glade, trying to escape the horrors of the bloody war his father had brought upon their kingdom. Mourning his beloved older brother and faced with the burden of taking his place in the kingdom, Blaine yearns for a place to hid from the world to deal with the issues weighing on his heavy heart. He encounters a mysterious elf, the guardian of the magical spring that Blaine has mistakenly defiled, whose growing connection to his life the young prince can't ignore. (Inspired by an idea/ artwork by @datshitrandom and @justgleekout)

3.) WIP FICS TO FINISH AND POST

My WIP list can be found here! I keep it updated. Feel free to ask me about any of them if you're curious . . 🥰. Hoping to finish some of these in the coming year.

******

OK so ( as usual) I'm late to post - so if anyone hasn't done this yet and wants to - take my big open tag for it and maybe some of these folks might want to do one of these wrap ups as well?

Tagging ( participate only if you want to): @wowbright, @gleefulpoppet, @daisyishedwig, @spaceorphan18 @special-bc-ur-part-of-it

@myheartalivewrites, @14carrotghoul, @thighzp @tailsbeth-writes @onthewaytosomewhere

@sophie1973 @getmehighonmagic @tinyarmedtrex @henrysfox @blueeyedgrlwrites

@kirakiwiwrites @madas-ahatters-world @sarkyblueeyes @heartsmadeofbooks @iboatedhere

@little-escapist @littlemisskittentoes @kurtsascot @hkvoyage @lilinas

Psst. . . and if any fanartists see this and want to share what they've drawn this year, tag me! I'd love to see your work if I've missed some!

[soldier-lodbrok]

So saddle up kids, because @holyguardian and I screamed back and forth and she dug up a few thoughts I already had but pointed out all these nice connections, so now I HAVE to make a post about this theory. It is probably just my copium, but ya'll can't stop me. You can thank Muddy for this. She shoved my brain on every aspect.

Of course spoilers for Remake, Rebirth and Ever Crisis FS ahead.

Glenn Lodbrok is still alive theory

"Glenn Lodbrok" in Final Fantasy VII Rebirth Okay. First things first. The man seen as "Glenn Lodbrok" in Final Fantasy VII Rebirth definitely is NOT the real Glenn Lodbrok. In no way or form. It just is a black robed man that Sephiroth puppeteered to take on the appearance of Glenn. His behaviour, his speech patterns, his apparent goals, nothing fits the real Glenn Lodbrok.

Even his appearance is off.

The black robed version looks extremely gaunt. Glenn in general has a large frame and muscular built. Here his cheeks are visibly sunken in, his hair is unruly and uncut, as is his beard, which is also way longer (and more prominent above his lips) than when he supposedly was last alive.

The SRC Situation/Where was Glenn last His last goal in the world was to establish the Shinra Resistance Committee, especially in Wutai and lead it against Shinra. They took over the Wutain government and installed an interim-government. According to Yuffie it is supposed to only last until the war is over and they can have independence from Shinra; then tthe Wutain people can decide what kind of government they truly want next.

The SRC does loosely associate with AVALANCHE, but they are two different factions, with the SRC seemingly using more political and Wutai-based moves, while some splinter groups of AVALANCHE go down more extreme routes closer to Midgar/within Midgar.

Glenn wasn't alone, but with Matt and Lucia in the SRC at this time.

It is notable that in Rebirth in the side-mission "Protorelic 4" in Cosmo Canyon Matt and Lucia are name-dropped:

So they are confirmed to still be alive at the point where the Shinra HQ was stormed by AVALANCHE in Remake. Now suddenly as leaders of AVALANCHE troops for the HQ in Midgar. So something must have happened between them being in Wutai as interim-government members for the SRC and now suddenly active in AVALANCHE.

Alteration with Rufus The alteration that happened, where Rufus shot Glenn probably all cooks down to that Glenn either:

- discovered that Viceroy Sarruf is actually Rufus Shinra

- or he knew all along that Sarruf = Rufus, but had an argument with him, because he found out that Rufus was not at all interested in a peaceful solution and letting Wutai be a free state from Shinra

It is more likely that it is the second option, since in Ever Crisis Chapter 8 Glenn mentions that "he has friends in high places" and gets his intel through them. He possibly is hinting at this being Rufus. Plus Rufus in Rebirth seems to allow "Glenn" around, as if he knows him.

He probably threatened Rufus, either with revealing his identity or with cutting him off from the SRC. It had to be something that enraged/threatened Rufus enough to shoot Glenn in the back cowardly, when he turned away.

Then it gets muddy.

Rufus clearly is surprised seeing "Glenn" again in Junon, stating that he thought he was dead. It is a "thought" and nothing more certain. Indicating that Rufus had not checked upon Glenn really being dead. [Also the wikia indicates he was "left for dead", the wikia is not the most reliable though]

So there is a possibility that Glenn survived this. Possibly being rescued by his friends Lucia and Matt. They aren't shown to be present at the attack (maybe just out of frame?). But they could have been led there by:

- Refu: the dog formerly belonging to Rosen, he already proved to be loyal to its owner and 'call' others attention to when his owner was in trouble and needed help; he did so for Rosen

- Sephiroth: the man was friends with Glenn, even in the Wutai war. Glenn gave him intel to rescue other soldiers and Sephiroth would likely have done the same for him in return. It is strange that Sephiroth seems to exactly know how Glenn was shot in the back, he uses the phrase "In the back, just like good old times." when Rufus tries to kill "Glenn" a second time at the end of Rebirth. So either Sephiroth witnessed it, saw Glenn afterwards or heard about it. Sephiroth is shown to still be conflicted back in EC FS, being loyal to Shinra in a way or seeing himself forced into that role. If we mirror Glenn's "You know I can't help openly, that is why you have to do it", that could work with Sephiroth directing Matt and Lucia to Glenn for help. He is Shinra, he can't outright act against Rufus then, but he can see to get sufficient help.

Anyway, Lucia and Matt could have rescued Glenn and brought him to safety but turned their back on the SRC or fled the area due to there clearly being dangerous traitors at work within the SRC. That is how they could have ended up with AVALANCHE HQ, finding refuge there.

Where Glenn could be during Remake/Rebirth times So why are just the two of them mentioned as leaders for AVALANCHE?

Either Glenn simply is not part of that particular mission, SE didn't want us to know, he didn't want to work for AVALANCHE or he isn't able to help yet.

Last option could be likely due to the severe injury he apparently got from Rufus' bullet. When he is shot we actually see a lot of blood (the most shown in FF VII so far) splattering from relatively high up. Almost looks like the back of his head, though at least Sephiroth masquerading as Glenn claimed it was a shot in the back.

If Rufus hit his spine that high up, it could mean he needs a longer time to recover, if at all, even in magical Final Fantasy healing logics. Also explains, why Glenn did not fight back (if we consider the same FF logic in which several characters already got shot or stabbed worse and still were able to get up and fight back).

He could be bedridden or even in a coma for now. And you know what happens to people who are that immobile for a longer time? They lose muscle mass and of course don't shave their beard as often or get regular haircuts.

So the gaunt and dishevelled appearance the black robed takes on as "Glenn" could actually BE how Glenn looks currently. Jenova's/Sephiroth's abilities to shapeshift can't be that shoddy, so maybe this is actually the most current version of Glenn, who is hidden away somewhere in an AVALANCHE HQ.

And as Muddy so nicely pointed out: you know whom Glenn, a man who is wearing a long black raincoat (not to be confused with the black robes!) would contrast when sitting in a wheelchair by then? Rufus Shinra years later, a man in long white coats, in a wheelchair, when he suffers from Geostigma. We love some nice paralells, even if this now is probably beyond SE's scope of aesthetics.

[basil-does-arttt]

Devil May Cry 2. The pimple-faced teenager of the series, widely regarded as the worst game in the franchise.

While yes i agree with this viewpoint to some degree, and i think all the jokes about it being the worst one are funny... i honestly dont think the game is THAT bad. In fact, i think people give it too much shit.

Ill start out by saying this: no, the game isnt amazing. Its under-developed, rushed, and in no way is it up to the same standard as the other 4 games. Im not saying its this perfect game, but its not as horrible as some make it out to be.

Ive played through the game on the original PS2 version and the remastered version, and although im yet to complete Lucia's campaign, i can confidently say the game is mediocre at worst really.

First the gameplay: Boring? Yes. Definitely. Do you like standing in one place and shooting everything for 15 minutes untill it drops dead? This is the game for you. But you dont have to do that, it just happens to be the easiest option because the controls are so jank. I spent (some) time myself learning the combos, turns out it depends on the way you angle the joystick, and once you get the hang of it, its not that difficult to S rank combat encounters at all. Its annoying, but not impossible, and the combos can honestly look pretty cool imo.

The movement is also another thing, the dodge animation takes way too long to perform but i do like the forward dash. Its a nice alternative to using stinger as a makeshift movement dash, i wish they kept it for furture versions of Dante. (Yes i know theres the trickster dash, but he doesn't do a flip)

I also really love the flying mechanic with aerial heart, and the different kinds of core thingies you could combine as a whole. A unique feature that kinda got combined into other things in Dante's design.

A few of the bosses, if they had been fleshed out and maybe balanced a bit better, could've been just amazing too. Furiataurus for example. One boss i feel was done well though was The Despair Embodied, and although you can just stand around and shoot it to death like everything else, you do actually have to put effort in to not get hit and die. (Trismalga is also kinda in that boat too, a well(ish) done fight you actually have to put effort into, but i personally didn't like it.)

Next, level design: You have to admit they did some cool things with the level design. *some*. The whole "grungy city" vibe is something i found very interesting, and the trippy purple iteration of lower town was, while infuriating to navigate thanks to the camera and graphics (esp on the ps2 version), was actually quite neat. I also really liked the clock tower in Lucia's campaign.

And also, the music. Can i just say, i think dmc 2's soundtrack is my favorite one out of all 5 games. The ambient background tracks are almost dreamy, especially Lucia's ones, the boss themes honestly go hard and the piano track that's repeated throughout the whole soundtrack just sounds good. If you take anything away from this post, its that you should listen to the soundtrack. (I reccomend the tracks "Unholy Relics", "Cry for the Moon", and "Shoot the Works")

The character designs are another thing i think they did well in this game. In my humble opinion, Dante's dmc 2 style is the best looking one in the whole series. Lucia also looks quite cool, her devil trigger form especially.

The characters themselves, Dante especially, need work, but might i remind you the developers were rushed when making this game. They didn't have enough time to do everything they wanted to do, 6 months before the game was supposed to release they didn't even have it in working condition. It was only thanks to Itsuno stepping in as the director that we got this game in the first place, and all he could do was salvage what the team had already created and get it in a releasable state before launch.

If only they had a bit more time (and maybe resources), dmc 2 couldve been quite the cool game. Though, on that note, if it werent for dmc 2's catastrophic faliure and Itsuno's prompt pestering for a sequel so the franchise didn't die outright, we wouldn't have gotten dmc 3. Though i think Capcom would've made a 3rd game regardless of the scenario.

All in all, i dont think dmc 2 is that horrible of a game. If you have the remaster collection, or even the original PS2 version, at least try it. Give it a go, play through the first few missions and kill one or two of the bosses.

Don't take it seriously, just have fun and enjoy the game in all its janky half-finished glory. If you look at dmc 2 that way, i think you'll enjoy it a whole lot more.

Or dont. Yknow, its your choice.

[transhoverfish]

OK SO IM LATE BUT. MORE SUB3 NEWS!!!

so a few days ago, krafton (their publisher), apparently had this like presentation of their plans over the next like 2 years. and during that they talked a bit about sub 3!

and this obviously creates a LOT of questions. not to worry, though, because unknown worlds added on to this:

im honestly not surprised by this. iirc, when below zero released they said it would be a WHILE before the next game, and they only announced this back in like... january? now, the first game's release was in january, and bz was in may, so it's definitely possible early access with be in spring of 2025. those games did not have multiplayer aspections tho! its possible we'll wait until mid 2025, and full release will likely not be until 2026. but who knows? the first game took like ten to be fully finished!!

and honestly. THANK GOD. i can't imagine any subnautica game having BATTLE PASSES or LOOT BOXES. i would have just straight up ignored this game 😭

i do wonder what these updates will entail! "many years to come" is definitely something interesting to me, because other than bug fixes... i dont remember sub or bz getting many updates post full release. is this referring to bug fixes, or is it implying that it will be in a state of early access for much longer? are they going to just keep adding new things (like the building update for sub1) and taking fandom suggestions? very interested!!

maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but i actually,,,, dont want multiplayer. now i do like bz, and these games arent really intended to be horror games, but also bz is very noticeablely less scary than sub1. and some of it i think definitely has to do with all the extra characters and dialogue. its hard to feel isolated when you know al-an and marg are nearby. so im very happy that it's optional, bc i know i will probably enjoy single player a lot more enjoyable!!

so now... SPECULATION.

so the first thing im curious about that the development team didnt mention:

"uncover the mysteries on an entirely new alien planet"

apprently we are NOT returning to 4546b. which im kind of sad about!! ik the story is very obviously done there, but it feels weird that its going to be some other planet this time around. THERE WONT BE PEEPERS!!!! (well there could be but it would be weird if some other random planet had the exact same lifeforms)

now my next immediate thought is: is this a direct continuation of below zero? my opinion is: no. probably not.

mostly because it mentions up to four players, and robin and alan are, if you look very closely, only two people. now they COULD just create two new characters to go alongside them (my fanfic brain loves the au idea of marg and ryley 🥺) but im just going to assume that with the addition of a new planet, we're going to drop the old storylines. which means no more degasi, sunbeam, aurora, or ayou sisters. we might move away from architects/precursors altogether! (my basis on this is absolutely nothing and i could be wrong, this is 100% just theorizing)

also, i imagine that it would be difficult to keep the plot the exact same with two established characters and then two new ones, depending on how this multiplayer aspect works. if its another crash, it would be a lot easier to just have the extra players die/survive, then try to work in a balancing act of one guy playing al-an.

(also i like keeping the ending of bz vauge. if they show up again, they would have to mention what happened to the rest of the architects, and i think it's much more fun if thats a mystery!)

((also also, im gonna drop a bomb on u all for a second. i actually,,, dont like al-an. i have a deeper connection to probably every single other character in bz. i think they really fumbled al's character and story and he is so incredibly bland to me. it feels like they go nowhere with how he was responsible for the kharra outbreak because the game ends immediately after he confesses! it would be nice to give him another chance, sure, but i personally dread the idea of even more al-an. sorry everyone for this horrible news))

HERE'S A CONCEPT IMAGE

i hope they bring back some cut content creatures for this!! i noticed this new area looks VERY similar to the safe shallows, and several of the fish seem to be variations of ones we've already seen (im already seeing bladderfish and hoopfish color pallettes, and the shark resmbles some early concept art for the shadow leviathan, but with the ice worm's colors...)

will there be more land areas?? is it going to entirely underwater?? more kharra?? NO DISEASE AT ALL?? AAAAAA!!!!

[cyren-myadd]

Am I the only one who doesn't like the idea of ​​Spider gaining the ability to breathe without a mask/getting his avatar/kuru in the next parts? I kind of like that he has these limitations and it would be more interesting if he completely accepted them and found his way to connect with Eywa and live on Pandora instead of just removing them, I feel like that would take away all the uniqueness of his character

Don't worry, anon, you're definitely not the only one who feels this way! I personally do like the idea of Spider getting an "adaptation," but I've seen other folks raise the concern of these potential changes taking away Spider's uniqueness and I can understand where the fear comes from. It's a totally valid worry to have.

Let me share my perspective on the topic

So you listed three possible changes to Spider's character that have been rumored to occur in Avatar 3. Let's break these down first:

Spider breathing without a mask

Spider getting an Avatar

Spider getting (growing?) a kuru

There are different reasons people believe each of these things may happen and all of them are possible, we won't know for sure until A3 comes out, but as of right now, it's looking like option #1 is the only one that's happening. #1 is the most likely option because it's the one with the most evidence behind it. In Avatar 2 BTS footage, a bit of the script for Avatar 3 was accidentally shown, describing a scene of Spider breathing without a mask. The script was quickly blurred out in the BTS footage, but not before some twitter users were able to transcribe the script. Since the avatar creative team made an effort to cover it up, that makes the first option seem like it's the most likely to happen. @spider-socorro-stan has an excellent breakdown of the leaked script on their blog and you can read it HERE if you'd like to know more.

I've also noticed that Spider's official character poster seems to confirm option 1 as well. The character posters for Avatar 2 are all screenshots taken from the movie, like Jake's is from the scene where he talks to Neytiri about being too hard on their sons, Kiri's is from her first swim in Awa'atlu, Quaritch's is from Spider's interrogation scene, etc, etc. Spider's poster (center) is the only one that isn't a screenshot from Avatar 2, and in fact, he doesn't have a forehead stripe or chest garment in Avatar 2 at all like he has in the poster. Since Spider's look in the poster matches BTS footage of Spider's look for Avatar 3, most people assume the poster is a screenshot from Avatar 3 instead of 2. In the poster you can see plants and trees behind him, meaning he is outdoors, but despite this he is not wearing a mask. The poster on its own wouldn't really be sufficient evidence for such a wild theory, but when it's combined with the leaked script, it seems to make option #1 seem very plausible.

The second rumor stems from a BTS image of Jack Champion lying down in a link chamber (left) making it appear as if he is he is about to link to an Avatar, and the third rumor stems from some concept art that was shared at an Avatar exhibition in Las Vegas (right) that depicts Spider with a kuru. Since these images were shared on purpose and there hasn't been any effort to cover them up, plus they lack any confirmation in a script like the first rumor, I believe it's likely that rumor two and three will not actually happen. The image of Jack in the link pod could've just been Jack messing around, and the image of Spider with the kuru, while legitimate concept art, is most likely an old, scrapped idea because I can't imagine the creative team showing such a massive spoiler on purpose. If you want to know more about the kuru-theory, I made a post discussing it HERE.

So now that we've gone over the three potential changes to Spider's character, and established that the only change that has a real likelihood of happening is the maskless Spider one, let's talk about people's reactions to it.

I'm active in the Avatar communities on tumblr and reddit, and I occasionally peek at tiktok and instagram (I don't touch twitter with a ten foot pole so don't ask me about that), so I've seen lots of different opinions on these changes. Some people, like myself, are enthusiastic about it and curious to see where it goes, while others, like anon, worry that this will take away the underdog qualities that make Spider such an interesting and unique addition to the Avatar cast. Both of these reactions to this shocking leak are completely valid. (There's also a third party that insists the leaks are fake and nothing miraculous will happen to Spider in Avatar 3 because they really really want him to die, but we're not talking about them right now.)

When it comes to the rumor that Spider will be getting an Avatar at some point, I actually agree with the folks who worry about it taking away from Spider's character. We already had the human-gets-an-alien-body story done with Jake in Avatar 1, and we had human-gets-an-alien-body 2: The Revenge done again with Quaritch in Avatar 2. If we had human-gets-an-alien-body part 3: electric bluegaloo with Spider in Avatar 3, the trope would've worn out its welcome. We've already had the topic explored twice already; we really don't need it to be explored again. There's nothing Spider getting an avatar would add to the story that hadn't already been explored by Jake.

But the good news is this rumor seems very unlikely to happen, so unless I'm way off we won't have to worry about that.

Now the rumor about Spider breathing without a mask is where I hardcore disagree with the worries that it will take anything away from Spider's character. I understand and agree with this worry when it comes to the Avatar body, because as I said, the Avatar body story's been done before ad nauseum. But breathing without an exopack? And still being human? That's definitely never been done before.

Two things that make Spider's character so charming IMO is that he's unique and he's an underdog. Unique, because literally no matter where he goes, he sticks out like a sore thumb: among the Na'vi he sticks out because of his humanness, and among the humans he sticks out because he looks like tarzan lost a paintball fight to the blue team. He is literally and visually trapped between two worlds, and that makes for a really interesting story. He's also an underdog for the obvious reason. Poor kid's at a disadvantage no matter where he goes too. He's much smaller and weaker than the Na'vi, he can't bond with any of the cool animals, and he doesn't know how to use any of the cool human weaponry so he can't make up for his size the way human villains like OG-Quaritch did. And yet, despite constantly being the underdog, he never gives up and always fights to protect his loved ones. That indomitable human spirit is always an appealing character trait.

If Spider does get the ability to breathe the Pandoran atmosphere without an exopack, that doesn't take away from his two important character traits. He will still be an underdog, because even if you remove the breathing handicap, he still lacks the size and the ability to bond with the animals that the other main characters have. The audience will continue to see him struggle to overcome his physical disadvantages. He will also still be unique in having that caught-between-worlds quality. In fact, the breathing thing would make him even more unique than before because as far as we know, he is the only human to ever gain this ability.

Unlike Jake and Quaritch, Spider has not left his humanity behind for something completely new. Spider is still fully human, but a part of him will also be fully Pandoran, now able to survive on the planet that's so unhospitable to his kind.

Spider will always be the same goofy little underdog we know and love, even if he does get a new ability in Avatar 3. I fully understand that not everyone likes this concept, and that's fine, but I sincerely hope that everyone who dislikes it can at least come around to it by the time Avatar 3 comes out. There is a lot of evidence supporting this theory, and I'd really hate for anyone's enjoyment of the movie to be ruined because of this creative decision!

[2demondogs]

While Summer Dances | Molly/Mary-Beth

Tags: canon divergence (Molly left w the others), post-canon, pre-relationship confusion and pining <3, character study where Molly is depressed and learns how poverty works (like, for real this time), referenced VanDerMatthews Words: 2k A/N: A snippet of life. Struggling to have the drive for anything rn honestly. So kinda just working on what is striking me.

When she first came to America, Molly never thought she would find herself living in a tenement.

In fact, she turned her nose up at them any time she rode through town with Dutch. He never cared for that, either. She does not care for him anymore, but she understands why, even if he only ever saw in the poor a self-aggrandizing glory. He was the giving hand of God.

If it came to her, she'd spit in its palm.

She's grown past her own biases. Made headway in doing so, at least. Having tasted poverty, it's as difficult to stomach when it is shoved down her throat and takes root in her very own belly. How could anyone live that way? She had wondered, but came to find it was not exactly a choice.

Now that she's been forced to mend her own things, since Mary-Beth hasn't got much time, though she considers mending her things to be far less of a chore for some reason; to cook her own food, though Mary-Beth prefers to do it because she's not worth much in a kitchen, or to find a neighbor willing to spare half a meal between the two of them; to help make their money— all of which Molly had never expected to do until she found herself a husband.

Even then, what an unthinkable thing it was to have a husband who could not afford servants. Blasphemous, a husband who would make his own wife work beyond keeping what little of the house was left for her to keep so that she did not grow cabin-fevered in whatever lavish, wealthy prison such a wife might find herself in.

No, being poor should never do for an O'Shea. It certainly would be an embarrassment to her family the way she lives now, and at times Molly is thankful that they likely believe she is dead. Returning wasn't an option for the shame of failure, anyways, although it eats at her despite the fact a handful of people know the truth of where Miss O'Shea has ended up. It keeps her awake at night despite her inability to explain, when Mary-Beth asks her, what she sought in this country and apparently did not find. Love had came to her by instinct, but that was so girlish.

Always a smart kind of girl — spoken admiringly, though Molly once insulted her with it — she says maybe her failure was a lack of purpose. She thinks about that, too, when she cannot sleep.

Still, she finds herself day-dreaming of arguing her — their — case to her parents and governess. She doesn't know what needs those thoughts fulfill, but she supposes that thoughts don't really have to fulfill anything. Maybe they remind her that despite it all, she is strangely satisfied when the strain eases and she is sitting at the small breakfast table with Mary-Beth, learning to play card games and being teased about strip poker until she cries for her to stop talking nonsense. It's an old joke, but it makes the woman laugh when Molly acts a little prudish. Or maybe the thoughts just sit there, same as she does, and rot away into different ones once they've driven her sufficiently mad.

Mary-Beth says that it's normal to feel that way sometimes: a little mad. Molly doesn't understand much of what is normal, apparently.

This discrepancy between them alone is slowly chipping at the façade of superiority she finds herself clinging to. The ugliness rears its head when Molly sees something horrible. For instance, that mother in the next apartment who they cook for now and then. She hasn't got a husband to feed her baby, and can barely scrape rent together even though she sews the prettiest dresses Molly has seen in years.

The family name tells her: she is below you. Whatever, much kinder, thing that's growing in her believes only that the man who left those two babes deserves to be six feet below, and perhaps a little further down— straight into Hell. Molly knows what being left feels like, and that woman's relatability only ends because she doesn't believe she's got a talent of her own that'd even be worth wealth.

Oh, how angry being poor has made her. She's always been angry, but she's only just learned of it. Molly can't remember a day she was not angry, or mad.

The strangest part of it all is that Mary-Beth doesn't seem to mind either one as long as it's not about her. Really, she hadn't even cared when it was about her. She's probably got something very smart to say about those months after Dutch began following her tail, too, but it's been only a year on their own and Molly is less than ready to hear her wisdom. She has barely been ready to hear any of her other good opinions.

They always sting a little, which she guesses is part of what makes them true.

What strikes Molly most is that they haven't done anything to deserve this. They both work very hard. She makes nine dollars a week keeping the books at a general store; in the evenings, she does them for the landlord and is paid with discounted rent; Mary-Beth writes for the paper, though the readers only know her as Johnathan Price. And that lovely woman next door, and the families they all know by name, and the cats on the street— what have they done to be sneered at for living here?

When she is most desperate to find a reason, she even thinks of Dutch and his gang, and discards the morality she finds missing from them all by reminding herself that blood seeps through soil and colors the soles of bystanders just the same. Where did their hard work get them? That stupid old island he wanted to go to, like some child wishing to jump to the moon? She doubts it.

Molly'd been angry, yes. This dwindling sense of entitlement inside her is screaming with nowhere to run to. A familiar self-loathing is starting to take its place instead.

They are as lucky as they can be, at the end of the day. The wood may be rotting in places and it may smell a little when she forgets to perfume the air, but it is four walls — four blessed walls, and a floor, and a solid ceiling — and usually food, and so many kind folks who have been through worse and therefore do not judge. There's been no word from Karen since they left, so she can only imagine she is dead or in prison. Tilly was quite lucky to find Pierre, although she didn't explicitly say that Molly was also invited to the wedding when she wrote to tell them about it. You should come, but it was only addressed to Mary-Beth, as her letters always were.

Molly wondered, then, if it's because of how she was or if it's because of what this looks like: two women living together, sharing one bed, one working a man's job and the other, a tomboy's. Her family is argued with, inside her head, about those things, too, though she always comes up short with a way to describe how things actually are. Enough words come to her to write, when she can, but those poems are to never be read again. They are only for her journal, and Molly might die if anyone, herself included, ever laid eyes on them.

Never has she been good at holding her tongue, despite that. Mary-Beth had only blushed and told her not to ask things like if Tilly disliked inverts. Molly believed, at first, that she had disgusted her with the implication they could even be a pair of them. Then she said Dutch and Hosea raised Tilly to know better than that, which Molly once again rolled around in her head for evenings, wondering what exactly she had meant by it.

For once, she did not ask. Really, she already knew.

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster. Molly doesn't remember who said that, because she consumed far too many books in a cluster when Mary-Beth first learned she was literate but not well-read. This one and that one, and some Shakespeare, and this one's not very good but I think you'll enjoy it, it's romantic.

She never questioned where she procured all those novels, but she's certain they were stolen. Regardless, she read them and continues to read them, every now and then, because Mary-Beth is nice to her. Acting interested is the least she can do.

It felt a little more sensible to read for pleasure when she was shown just how fun romances can be. Such a concept was foreign to her in childhood, and Dutch's books were drivel. Even if romances make her a little sad, a little envious at times.

Mary-Beth won't hand over her own drafts still. Molly has tried when the woman was asleep, but apparently the empty space in the bed or the sound of the wrong papers shuffling is an instant remedy for her fatigue. She doesn't shoot up, but her voice is always sharp calling the diversion of: "What's wrong?"

Always what's wrong, never why can't you sleep. Molly wonders if these haunting dreams are also normal, and simply no one ever told her. Not a word of them has been spoken to Mary-Beth, yet she seems to understand why she wakes up so often to smoke.

Another bad dream wakes her this morning, and she feels like the green-eyed monster for it. Vague, shifting, the way dreams always are, but she remembers the terrible feeling of emptiness she felt and when she rubs the sleep from her eyes, they are damp with dried tears. Familiar faces, distorted by separation and left only to the black holes of hatred she assumed laid beneath them when she did know those women; all lacing corsets without her, all watching, all laughing at the girlchild — because for some reason she is young again in all of these dreams — who does not fit.

Molly doesn't tell her about these dreams because they feel silly, even though they ache. They ache a lot as she sits up in the bed, the dream settling into her back and spreading soreness over the shoulder blades.

She's never fit, that much is true. She doesn't even fit in her own skin, it feels, or else it wouldn't hurt like this.

Mary-Beth isn't beside her, but she can hear her in the kitchen making breakfast. It is Tuesday; they both work today.

Like usual, she looks at her spot and considers why they allow themselves to sleep this way. Studying the narrow mattress and the wrinkles in the fitted sheet, she finds there's no reason not to. It's comfortable. There is no room or money for another bed. She'd feel very bad if she kicked her to the sofa, and she would refuse to sleep on it herself. When Molly stretches across the bed to slide one of Mary-Beth's cigarettes out of the package, the pillow smells like her perfume.

Lately, it's become a little less usual to doubt this, but those dreams always make her feel so unsure.

How funny that life goes on without one's blessing. Molly thought she would die without him. Maybe it's the feeling that she will die without her that keeps her going, but it's funny how life changes, too.

Changes, and leaves her behind. Molly dresses herself and thinks how much easier it would be to have someone do her corset for her. Sometimes they do just that for one another, but usually she is unlacing Mary-Beth's when she is stiff from sitting all day or is tired because she's had to go around town for an article. Molly's job is tiring, too, but she doesn't seem to feel it the same way she does.

Women do up corsets with so much more prowess than men. Dutch had always had to let it back out some, hadn't seemed to remember she needed to breathe to keep sitting pretty for him. Mary-Beth's got practice with it. The few times she's laced Molly's, it's been the most comfortable it's ever felt; like a second skin, and not a layer of clothing.

Molly allows herself one moment to acknowledge that she takes that same sense of— something from the fact she undoes her corset, sometimes. After that moment, it's back to the shallows of her thoughts that it goes.

[suckishima]

hi guess what i'm still not done yelling about chp 298 and the serve and block, so let's talk about the actual volleyball of it and how it contributes to the impact of the moment and solidifying it as a thing that they earned together

yamaguchi goes up for his second serve in the match, after having just gotten an ace, and this time kai bumps it relatively easily

and yamaguchi is already thinking about the serve and block, bc for him that's his next goal if he can't get another service ace. he sees it as his job to disrupt the first pass so that the setter can't make as good of a set—and that's what those little flashbacks depict, botched digs from tough serves leading to the setter having trouble getting under the ball/to it in time so the hitter is limited and then gets stuffed

so yamaguchi is disappointed, he think because kai got the ball up and to kenma in a perfect arc, that he didn't do his job well enough

and while it's true that kenma does get to set off of a good pass, there's more to it than that, and tsukki knew it before the ball even left kai's hands

tsukki sees it as more than just disrupting the ball's path to the setter, it's also about taking away options of hitters to make tsukki's job easier as a blocker. and we can see in the first panel i posted what tsukki has already seen, that yes kai got the ball up, but also he took a knee, he had to get low so he likely won't be back up in time for an approach, and yamaguchi aimed it between kai and yamamoto so yamamoto also is hunched and kind of stuck behind kai and in a bad position to get going for a run up

something which, furudate takes a moment to show us again here—kai and yamamoto are nowhere near in position to spike the ball, the rotation has yaku on the court so he's not an offensive option, meaning that it's only kuroo and fukunaga that the blockers need to worry about tracking

and we get to see tsukki think about all of that on the next page too. i like how kind of quick and staccato these panels come across, you can almost read tsukki's inner dialogue even though we don't see it: "yamamoto and kai are down, not contenders. fukunaga coming for an approach on the right, kuroo coming for a quick right down the middle, kenma already in the air, which of them will he choose?"

furudate is really trying to emphasize to us that yamaguchi's worth as a server isn't just in getting aces, or making the ball wobble perfectly to botch the opposing team's receives—yamaguchi is also getting better at aiming and disrupting the court in other ways. and that in turn compliments the ways we've seen tsukki's skills improve over the series too, this type of reading the court and the players (one aspect of "total defense" as the series calls it) that he's gotten better and better at as the matches go on

and the ukai reiterates it for us too so we can read it in addition to having just seen it. "a level-headed, disciplined shield," is exactly what you'd call tsukki's style of blocking, it's why he's so consistently effective and scary as a blocker on his own, "and its bes possible partner, one that makes its decisions easy," perfectly sums up yamaguchi here too, his serves have come far enough that he can disrupt the court in multiple different ways and narrow the path for tsukki so his job can be easy.

but what i also think is important here is that neither of them started here, it took a lot of time and practice to reach this point and they both had to work hard in order to be someone that could be of use to the other and pull it off. if yamaguchi hadn't gotten better at serving he wouldn't be helpful to tsukki's blocking decisions, and if tsukki hadn't had both the aptitude for calmly reading the court and following kuroo's advice about having less wussy block form, then he wouldn't be any help to yamaguchi's serves when the other team does get a hand on them.

and because furudate makes sure to let us know that they both earned their way here with their hardwork and dedication, it makes the emotional impact of the moment hit even harder because we know and feel that it didn't just come from nothing

it takes a strong shield and a sharp spear

[aliasrocket]

tdlr : quill/rocket love triangle qna + excerpts!!

Since the quill/rocket love triangle poll one by 0.01% (literally) I’m trying to make it happen! Definitely will have at LEAST one chapter out by the end of august, maybe even two, but allow me to answer some frequently asked questions.

Quill and Rocket are in love with the reader. (Because of this, I would prefer to call it a love angle but its a lesser known term, so.)

I don’t wanna spoil the plot too much but I saw a post of James Gunn on twitter confirming Quill is on space tinder. That’s the only clue I can give you (no, it’s not a chat fic.)

It’s not poly. Sorry for those who wanted it that way.

And last but not least, here’s two excerpts—it’s not much but that’s because I just started, but hopefully you get the feel of the fic from this HAHA

so the first one’s to give you some insight on Quill, second’s on Rocket ;

Books sound so much better when you recommend them to me

Peter

It’s books

There’s so many good ones out there that I haven’t read

I can take you to a bookstore if you want

Alright, if you insist

But I haven’t finished a book since

Since I last saw my mother

And you changed that

The bubble that held these words was the face of Peter—it was his face. The flat device on your phone was supposed to make up for the fact that you weren’t next to him.

Reading that through was like looking at a sunset and speculating its feelings. Obviously it’s a pretty sight. A lot of things happen when pink meets red meets orange meets yellow. But the sun doesn’t have a face. Neither do the colors. But your shoulders sink and your bones unwind at the very thought of letting your hair brush through the mellow sunset wind.

There was something there. Obviously, there was something there.

But Peter Quill was a chat screen with feelings.

I’m glad you liked Ready Player One Peter

I feel like a damn child again

With all the sci-fi you’ve recommended me

But in the good way

Like

I can let loose

With you

Yk?

“Hey uh,” you swallowed, the slick noises from your throat somehow bouncing off the walls. “The ship’s on autopilot, right?”

“No, we’re crashing any second now,” Rocket answered dryly.

You whipped around to face the window. More clanging sounds ensued, but the stars were still sticking to the sky, fixed, not moving, not dropping to shaking about—and there was no quake in the ship, no floating feeling of your body falling and yet your heart hiccuped.

Rocket snickered. Your heart drummed somewhat distantly in your chest, but as drums are, it was loud, and it ran a careless finger down your ribs.

“Of course we’re on autopilot, princess,” he clarified a little kinder, despite the gesture being anything but kind. It was considered kinder because whatever he had done previously had made this an improvement.

He loaded his hands into his pockets, leaning against the box with a foot crossed over the other.

You groaned as your head hit the mattress, and you did this instead of offering a response, an option you actually had to weigh.

“Never got the proper meeting, by the way,” Rocket said, his boots giving away each heavy step towards you. “I’m—”

“Rocket. I know who you are,” you finish for him so he doesn’t have the chance to say anything else that would scare you.

You reluctantly sat up only to find he was closer than you had expected him to be. Your feet suddenly gravitated towards the floor in an attempt to regain some modesty.

“This usually goes both ways, you know.”

You press your lips into a thin line, your eyelids drooping to form an unamused look. You utter your name but the syllables clung to your lips when they barely left you. Rocket held out his hand, and you take note of his black nails protruding from its slender but unmarred form. You take his hand in your own, shaking it torpidly and very, very slimly moving it for a better view.

It was unmarred in a very human way—it held prominent knuckles at the beginning of each finger, and it looked so unnaturally natural; his hands were active, always on the move, always touching very hot and dangerous things—how could it possibly be unmarred?

“Now you say ‘nice to meet you, Rocket,’” he quipped.

You hit his hand away and scoffed. “Yeah yeah, okay.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said along with your name, leaving him like a cardboard box labeled ‘fragile.’ It’s an open box but it’s handled with care, something he steadily unpacked.

[cinammonelles]

Thoughts about Nea, past!Allen and the next chapter

long post, spoilers under the cut

Okay so I've always wondered why Nea gave up on Allen as his ally so quickly. Allen was one of his closest allies besides Cross and Tim till the time of his death right? He even gave up his body so Nea could execute his masterplan.

Yes, Allen did lose all his memories(or did he?) and somehow ended up in the Black Order. But we know Nea can show him his memories so he should also technically be able to show him past!Allen memories that were locked away? Or atleast memories of himself with past!Allen?

Allen would definitely be torn and overwhelmed and confused after but everyone who has known the "other side of the war" has taken Nea's side so far. And Allen even went so far as to become Nea's vessel in the past. He would definitely take his old friend's side again right? Or even seek out some sort of a middle ground?

Why didn't he do that then? Nea watched all of his memories since Cross started tailing him and Mana. Wouldn't it be easier to have Allen half-cooperate during the little time he has left, instead of having him actively work against him?

There's so much emotion in this one panel here. Confusion, worry, pain, anger, desolation, and maybe even a hint of guilt?

Its like... he just didn't wanna disturb the little equilibrium Allen had managed to create in his life? The little community he had found in the Black Order?

I mean if we think abt it Nea never really wanted to parasitize Allen in the first place(or atleast that's what I think the evidence so far implies). It was just the only option available to them back then. They needed Nea's powers to thwart the Earl & the Noahs' plans. And if Nea died then the Earl would just absorb(?) him and there would be no stopping him after that.

And I think giving up on Allen as an ally was Nea's way of being kind to him. Of returning the favour. Being his ally isn't an easy or pleasant job from what we've seen so far. And Allen would've disappeared anyway from the moment past!Allen transferred Nea's memories to himself. After seeing his attachment to the Order and the friends he made there, maybe he just wanted Allen to disappear with pleasant memories he made at the Order rather than the gruesome memories of being Nea's ally.

This panel in particular is so sad. He was able to give up on Allen as an ally so easily because he still had Tim. Tim was his last remaining ally and then he wasn't. And its particularly cruel how Hoshino pulled this off. He says that he doesn't need anyone else as long as he has Tim and just a few chapters later Apocryphos kills him. Nea must be used to losing allies by now but Tim really was the last real friend he had left(hoshino you cruel cruel woman)

Also the way Link's just bomb dropped the news abt tim?

Imagine hearing your last friend/ally died from some rando and then not even getting the time to process it because your arch enemy's ressurection shows up and somehow has your face? And then you get yeeted back into brain breakroom just as you were about to start beefing with him and the next time you wake up you're in your childhood home which you have mixed, complicated feelings for.

And that's not even getting into the whole 'tim chose allen over nea' thing.

Also if Allen goes back to the mansion and finds Bookman, he's guaranteed to find out atleast part of his past if not the whole. And he would definitely demand to know more from Nea. Will he accept Allen as his ally again now that Tim is gone? Will he accept Link as well? Will he try to kill Johnny again? Will he even be stable enough to consider future plans? Will we ever see Lavi again? We find out next month :D

Or we don't

(I also have a theory abt the Bookmen having the ability to transfer memories but that one's for another time)

Thanks for reading!!!

[behindthewox]

TRIGGER WARNING: addiction, mental health and potentially upsetting content if you're in a vulnerable state of mind. Click "keep reading" to read the post, or click HERE for some alternative fishy content :)

Anon says: I personally believe that some people need to understand that they are severely addicted to WoX. I understand that it is supposed to be a safe space for many, but people need to understand that sitting behind a screen to be on discord/WoX is not a healthy way to live life. Believe me, most people don't even realise how it drives them to insanity. I think there should be a healthy balance, which most people are missing because they are simply too young to understand. I finally left WoX behind me, but wanted to create this message to show people that life without wox can be equally as fun. Most people you talk to on WoX aren't even your 'real' friends, cruel as it may sound. I talked to MANY people, and now I only have contact with 2. Addictions like these are not even noticed that much. "Oh, but I write so it's not bad." but you are behind your screen for HOURS a day. It's simply not healthy. It can drive you crazy. It can shove you into cliques. It can make you create problems that are, quite frankly, not even real. You get stressed about other people their CHARACTERS, you get stressed about FICTIONAL relationships. You might think it's an escape, and if its simply that, then its great. However, I believe for many people it is becoming a whole new problem and adding more stress on top of the things you tried to run away from. You try to find distractions from home? Well, you managed, but now you have online WoX drama which also drives you insane. Point of this is, please, try to log of every once in a while. Try to find a healthy balance. Life is not WoX. WoX is not life. [submitted by anonymous, no edits made]

As far as addictions go, I'd argue that WoX is one of the least destructive and harmful addictions out there and if you're gonna get caught up in an addiction it's one of the safest addictions to get stuck in. That said, I agree: WoX can easily become an addiction and no matter how harmful or harmless it is, addiction is bad.

obligatory disclaimer: I'm relatively well informed on the subject but I AM NOT AN EXPERT.

I think we need to keep in mind that the WoX demographics mean that we have a lot of users who are at high risk of developing addictions, and we could do more to minimise the risks and encourage healthier practises. Being vulnerable is not a choice and it's not right to blame the users for falling victim to human nature.

Addictions are caused by multiple factors and it's often a symptom of other problems that we don't have the resources to resolve. When we can't fix the problems in our life, the next best option is to take a break from it every once in a while that's when we turn to things that help us escape and forget. It becomes an addiction when we start to rely on it in order to maintain a state of mental wellbeing and perceived functioning, which ironically often means it hinders us from functioning fully in society. The best way to solve addiction is to solve the problems that we're escaping from, and if that's an option that is the best way to go.

If WoX causes you more stress than stress relief, there is reason to be concerned. If the thought of going without WoX for a few days makes you anxious, it might be a good idea to do just that: take a break for a few days. It sucks but it's good for you. But most importantly: do the best you can with the situation you've got. Be kind to yourself and know that it's not your fault, and it's unfair to expect you to figure all this out on your own. Blame and guilt isn't going to help you pull yourself out of an addiction or mental ditch, what you need is a metaphorical rope and a good strategy. Maybe an excavator... It's easier said than done but it's worth doing and in the meanwhile, remember: as far as addictions go you could do a hell of a lot worse than creative writing.