#keep rotating in my mind conversation that goes like

[earlysunshines]

L word

kim minji x fem!reader

synopsis: minji gets drunk while she’s away and you’re sent a video of her rambling on about how much she misses u

warnings: sappy sweet lovely ; minji a loser FORREAL i will never let this go. ; alcohol! yummmmmyyy ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: hello WHATS UP im HOME i have a new cat keychain and milk blush HOORAY anyways girlfriend of the year goes to

it’s the last day of minji’s stupid volleyball camp – the camp four hours away from you, her beloved girlfriend – and she’s surrounded by her teammates, a few bottles of soju and wine they somehow managed to sneak in, and the growing haze of too much alcohol. 

leaning her head against the back of the couch, she tries desperately to keep herself from losing her mind.

what’s pushing her to the edge isn’t just the alcohol—it’s the fact that she made the rookie mistake of glancing at her phone’s wallpaper. there you are, hair up, face bare, looking effortlessly beautiful as you make breakfast in the morning. you’re caught in the middle of a candid moment, gazing at the camera with a confused expression, your hand blurred as you try to grab the phone from her. 

(“hey!” you groan, rushing towards her with a spatula in your hand. minji laughs, backing away and pushing your head away with her hand, making you groan again. “delete that!”

“nuh uh.” minji grins at you, then puts her phone in her pocket. you still look annoyed, but minji finds it the best thing to wake up to. “what’s all this?” she asks, moving her head to to the side to eye the stove.

you blush, turning away and walking back to where the stove is. you check up on the four eggs you’re cooking, then mumble, “i figured since it’s your first time staying over at my place… i’d make you breakfast.”

it doesn’t show, other than the slight tint of pink on minji’s cheeks, but she might lose her mind, maybe even get down on one knee.

“aw, thanks.”)

the image is sweet, simple, and yet, to minji, you look absolutely adorable. it’s enough to make her heart ache with longing, the kind that no amount of soju can drown out.

minji tilts her head back and downs another shot, wincing as the burn slides down her throat. she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest. alcohol has never been her strong suit—not like you, who can handle a few drinks without batting an eye. minji’s a lightweight, and by the third shot, she’s already feeling the effects, regretting every dose more than she wants to admit.

around her, her teammates are lost in their own conversations, faces flushed from the alcohol. haewon, the team’s setter, has somehow managed to smuggle in a bottle of wine and is well past her limit, babbling on about some guy she’s been talking to and clinging onto bae defeatedly. 

minji tries to focus, to engage in the chatter, but her mind keeps wandering back to you. your image, your smile, the way you look at her—it all tugs at her heart, pulling her deeper into her thoughts, further away from the room full of laughter and slurred words. she checks her phone again after feeling it vibrate against the floor, immediately checking it and catching another glimpse of another photo of you in her lockscreen rotation; this time, she sees you studying in the background, the time covering apart of your head, and a few texts from you.

[y/n]

hey babe i hope you’re having fun! i’m going to sleep, goodnight! miss you xx see you tomorrow lovely

minji stares at her screen, her frown deepening as if the notifications had just announced the end of the world. she knows it’s the alcohol making her overly emotional, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling the weight in her chest. with a frustrated sigh, she lets her phone slip from her fingers, landing with a soft thud on the ground. the sudden movement draws the attention of her teammates, their chatter quieting as they turn to her.

“what’s wrong miss team captain?” ryujin teases, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

minji, usually the composed and level-headed one, surprises everyone when she lets out a dramatic whine and leans her head against danielle, who’s sitting next to her. the room falls silent as minji wraps her arms tighter around her knees, her voice small and filled with longing.

“i miss my girlfriend,” she confesses with a heavy sigh. she picks up her phone again, staring at the lock screen—another candid moment that you look adorable in. “i miss y/n so much.”

her teammates exchange glances, surprised by the rare display of vulnerability from their usually stoic captain, but they can’t help but smile at how deeply minji cares for you. hanni, the libero, is very entertained by this rare sight of minji. she pulls out her phone and snickers, pressing record and holding it up secretly. 

danielle lets minji sulk into her, she’s the only sober one in the room and is in the right mind to say anything meaningful in this situation. “do you need water?”

“i need y/n.” minji murmurs, rubbing her face in her hands and making her face even more red. “i miss her…”

“it’s been four days minji…”

“i want to be with her all the time… always.” minji confesses, her voice trembling with a vulnerability that takes everyone by surprise. her hand reaches for another shot glass, but danielle quickly intervenes, her concern clear. yet, minji manages to avoid her and downs the drink anyway, the alcohol burning its way down as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“i–i…” minji stammers, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to hold back a flood of emotions. her fingers fumble for her phone, and when she finally grasps it, a soft smile spreads across her face. she turns the screen to show her teammates a candid picture of you nestled against her, your peaceful expression illuminated by the dim light from your lamp. you had completely passed out against her that day after studying for one of your more important tests, that was also the moment minji realized she loved you. “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” she murmurs, flipping the screen back to herself as if savoring the sight. “...y/n.”

danielle can’t help but giggle softly, gently helping minji to her feet. “she’s very sweet, but i think it’s time we get this sweet girl’s girlfriend back to her hotel room. you’ve had enough, minji.”

minji shakes her head, her pout deepening as her eyes glisten with unshed tears. the rest of the team watches in stunned silence, taken aback by the raw, unguarded side of minji they’ve never seen before. they knew she adored you—her eyes always sparkled when she mentioned you, and her demeanor softened in your presence—but this...this was something deeper, something that laid her heart bare for all to see.

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” minji slurs, her words heavy with emotion as she sways slightly on her feet.

“well!” danielle tilts her head, laughing softly at minji's endearing confession. hanni, meanwhile, can’t resist giggling as she records the entire scene, already planning to send it to you later. danielle carefully helps minji to her feet, steadying her as she turns to the team. “i’m going to get her to bed—someone’s turned into a sappy lovebird.”

“no, please keep her here,” ryujin pleads, clearly relishing in her captain’s rare moment of vulnerability. “this is gold.”

but danielle, the only one with a working moral compass, shakes her head, her gaze shifting to minji, whose blinks are becoming slower, her hair a tousled mess, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. minji clings to danielle, her voice barely above a whisper as she mumbles, “i miss her… i wanna see my y/n… i love my y/n, i love her…”

danielle sighs, gently guiding minji toward the door. “come on, let’s get you to bed. you’ll see her soon enough.” minji nods, though she continues to mumble your name like a mantra, earning giggles from her teammates even after she’s dragged out by danielle.

–

minji feels like she’s been hit by a bus when she wakes up. her head is pounding, her hair is tangled and a chunk is in her mouth, and her body is twisted in an awkward position that leaves her neck sore. 

she groans, blinking a few times as she rubs her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. blindly, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table, and when her fingers finally graze the cold device, she squints at the screen—nine in the morning. the bus back leaves at ten.

it strikes her with the sharpness of an unexpected breeze. she gasps at the sight of the numbers, shooting up from the bed in a panic. in her rush, she nearly trips over her shoes, cursing under her breath as she fumbles to get herself ready.

her phone ends up on the sink counter as she splashes water over her face, trying to clear the fog in her mind. as the cold water shocks her system awake, another revelation dawns on her—she hasn’t responded to you yet. panic seizes her chest as she reaches for her phone, guilt and worry mixing with the lingering headache.

your texts are still unanswered, and there’s also a text from danielle asking if minji is alright, but you’re her first priority.

minji clicks on your contact, then presses ‘facetime’. water drips down her face and onto her shirt a bit before you pick up. 

“hey babe–”

“sorry i didn’t get to respond.” minji apologizes. you can only see the top half of her face looking down on you before she sets up the phone clumsily. you giggle and catch minji smiling at the sound of it. “the team and i we were…” minji can’t exactly remember much from the night before, she can only recall around seven bottles of soju on the ground, plus those two bottles of wine haewon brought. “... up late.”

“right.” you mumble, trying to contain a smile. “i missed you.”

minji almost misses her toothbrush while putting toothpaste on it. she clenches her jaw and looks at you in the camera, trying to conceal just how flustered you make her.

“me too.”

“how much?”

“a lot.” minji says, then starts brushing. it’s almost inaudible, but you manage to make out the small, “more than you missed me.” she mumbles as she brushes her back teeth.

“you’re so cute.” you murmur, then take a picture her in the moment.

minji groans when she sees the notification that you captured her while she’s a mess, minji is not a morning person. she puts her hand up to cover the camera as she continues brushing, but moves it away when she hears you giggling, wanting to see your face scrunch up cutely and your teeth show slightly when you laugh like that.

your girlfriend rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless.

–

minji has always been the reserved, playful type. you've seen glimpses of her more intimate side, but she's still shy about fully expressing her emotions. just like you, she's new to romance, and sometimes it shows in the way she kisses you just because, holds your hand with a gentle smile, or whispers compliments that warm your heart. 

but underneath that playful exterior, there's a lot she keeps hidden. minji’s good at concealing her deeper feelings, partly because she's shy, and partly because she’s still in disbelief that she managed to win your heart.

truthfully, minji is a mess. she’s head over heels when you kiss her cheek before you two part ways on campus. she’s even worse when you light up immediately at the sight of her outside your lecture room, and really anything you do makes her go batshit insane. but minji’s not going to show that, she doesn’t show any of it, so you’ve only seen her ‘cool, calm, and collected’ side–you think it’s cute, but what’s even cuter is the new side of her you’ve just been exposed to.

another truth is that you woke up to a good morning text from hanni before minji had even stirred. the message instantly made you feel all warm and giggly inside. there was a cheerful "good morning sunshine!" followed by a video and a teasing ":P you’ll love this girly." you clicked on the notification, squinting at the screen as you opened the video hanni sent.

the thumbnail showed minji, her cheeks flushed as she leaned against the couch. when you pressed play, hanni’s laughter echoed from behind the camera as she shakily recorded your girlfriend.

you watched as minji, looking like an adorable, sad puppy, leaned against danielle and started confessing how much she missed you. the sight made your heart swell, a huge smile spreading across your face. minji, with her flushed cheeks and vulnerable expression, showed off her lockscreen to the team, getting even sappier as she proudly displayed your photo. 

 “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” you hear her murmur, she turns the screen back to look at it lovingly. “...y/n.”

you couldn’t help but blush and kick your feet in bed, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. seeing how tipsy she was—four empty shot glasses scattered around her—explained why she was rambling about you, talking about how much she missed you. the whole thing made you giggle, your heart fluttering with affection for your sweet, slightly drunk minji.

what catches you off guard and nearly has you falling off your bed is when you catch minji saying:

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” she slurs it out drunkenly, but it’s heartwarming. she says i like a lead in a romance film, and it sounds genuine. then she says it over and over, and even if she’s drunk, drunk words are sober thoughts – that’s what you believe.

minji just said the L word and you weren’t there to witness it in real time. it’s been three months and minji said it first. if you could magically teleport to her in that moment you’d do it in a heartbeat.

–

your girlfriend arrives at your apartment in the afternoon. she knocks at your door and you open it with an eager smile, immediately pulling her in by the wrist and closing the door behind her.

minji giggles before you pull her in for a kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling away to smile.

“missed you silly.”

“missed you more.”

“i bet.” you mumble before pecking her again, then smiling cheekily against her lips. “hey, i wanted to ask about something – also show you something too.”

your arms are still around her neck, and her hands rest above your waist as she looks at you through her adorable black frames. “okay?” she says, tilting her head.

you grab her by the wrist and lead her over to your couch, both of you flop down on it and you lean against her shoulder. she puts her arm around you as you grab your phone, then kisses your head softly while you pull something up.

“hanni sent me something interesting.” you shrug, fighting the smile that’s trying to form on your face. “i wanted to show you.”

“hm, okay.”

you pull up your messages and minji feels herself stiffening looking at the thumbnail of the video hanni had sent. you press play and she realizes it’s a video from the night before, so she stops you, grabbing your phone and turning it off.

“hey!” you groan, reaching over to grab your phone back. “don’t just–”

“whatever she sent, that’s not–”

“just watch the video!” you poke her side and she loosens her grip, which gives you a moment to snatch your phone back. “just–”

minji’s cheeks are crimson, she’s flustered beyond measure. she sighs, crossing her arms now and turning away from you. “that’s not– look, i was drunk out of my mind…”

“okay well i don’t care, i want you to watch it so i can ask you something.”

“y/n, please baby.”

“don’t baby me.” you say with fake annoyance, pressing play again. “watch,” you order, then mumble a small, “you’re really cute.”

minji shifts uncomfortably as she watches the video, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. she cringes at the sight of herself with flushed cheeks, collapsing onto danielle, and the video captures her in a state of drunken vulnerability–it’s mortifying to minji, but you’re enjoying every second of it.

as the footage plays, minji’s cringing even more. she sees herself leaning into danielle, eyes glassy, as she gushes about how much she misses you. her gaze flits to her lockscreen being proudly displayed, her face a deep shade of red. she bites her lip, feeling every bit of her embarrassment as the video continues.

"i– i just... missed you—" she tries to explain before you cut her off.

“shh, shh. we’re not at the best part yet.” 

hanni pham i’ll kill you. minji thinks to herself, forcing herself to watch the rest of the video. 

minji's face flushes even more at the sound of her own voice confessing her feelings. hanni’s giggles in the background only make the situation worse. minji hears herself repeatedly saying "i love y/n" with a tone of longing, the video ending with hanni's laughter echoing.

“so,” you pull away from her, looking at your thrown off girlfriend in front of you with raised brows. “what did you think.”

“i–” minji pinches the bridge of her nose, then looks at you looking at her with an expectant expression and a teasing smile. “--look.”

“you said the L word.”

she furrows her brows. “what?”

“you said it, the L word.”

“oh my god y/n.” minji can’t help but laugh in the moment, purely from disbelief. she sighs, giving you a crooked smile. “is this about me saying… that?”

“saying what?” you push her buttons successfully, watching her bite the inside of her cheek.

“you know what.”

“say it.”

“what?”

“say it to my face.” you purse your lips, then bite the inside of your bottom lip. 

minji glances away, her face a mixture of vivid red and palpable anxiety. the embarrassment still colors her cheeks, but now there’s an additional hue of nervousness. it’s not that she’s new to romantic things like this with you—far from it. it’s just that her feelings for you are so profound, so overwhelming, that they’ve left her floundering, struggling to match the intensity of her emotions with her actions. sometimes it feels like her heart and brain work independently, or maybe it’s just her heart doing most of the work, it’s a mess, a beating wreck always.

you’ve managed to make her feel like a mess, an idiot, and utterly smitten, all by existing.

she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to look you squarely in the eye. her cheeks remain flushed, and she fidgets with her fingers, betraying her inner turmoil.

“i love you.”

“who?”

“you, y/n.” minji groans, leaning towards you and sliding her hand above your waist again. she presses your skin lightly with her fingertips, before repeating herself, “i love you y/n.” her voice is low and she looks at you through her eyelashes, now you’re all nervous.

you can’t speak or breathe in the moment, so you opt for leaning in and kissing her, but she pushes you away after one peck, looking at you with raised brows.

“you’re not going to say it back?” minji smirks, her gaze unwavering as she watches you avert your eyes. her expression turns playful yet determined as she gently hooks her finger under your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze once more. her thumb rests lightly on your lower jaw, her fingers pressing gently against your cheeks. “what was all that interrogation for if you’re—”

“i love you.” you confess, breath hitching when she looks at you like that. “i love you minji.”

minji smiles, clearly satisfied. “wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“i hate you.”

“but you love me.”

“yeah, but i hate you.”

“uh huh.” minji chuckles, fingers still holding your face and using that to pull you closer and kiss you.

despite the embarrassment she’s feeling, minji somehow remains more composed than you. she pushes her glasses up to sit on the crown of her head before her lips brush against yours with a tender softness, and she hums as she kisses you again. when she pulls away just enough to speak, her breath mingles with yours as she murmurs against your lips,

“i L word you a lot y/n.” she pecks you again, then says one more time before taking your breath away, “i love you so much you loser.”

[nizhspo]

and this is just the intro.

chapter three: there goes my ego.

m.list | next

synopsis: you were supposed to outgrow him, supposed to outgrow everyone and leave that small town behind, but somehow, he outgrew it too, and instead of growing apart, you fell right back into orbit-same gravity, same pull.

pairing: atsumu miya x f!reader

january 23, 2024

kobe, japan

he closes his eyes for what feels like a split second—just a minute, just to breathe, and then the alarm is already buzzing, cruel and sharp and way too soon. it’s still dark outside. his bones ache. his throat’s dry. the air in the room is cold, like it somehow knows he doesn’t belong in this bed without you in it.

he thinks about rolling over. calling out. just once. just to let himself fall back into sleep for a few more hours, to escape the dull pounding in his chest that hasn’t let up since miami. but this is his job. this is his life. and even if his brain’s still ten time zones behind, his body has to show up.

the shower doesn’t help. neither does the protein bar he shoves into his mouth as he grabs his bag. his clothes feel stiff. the hoodie he yanks over his head smells like the flight, like recycled air and sleep deprivation and a little bit of desperation.

he’s damn near nodding off behind the wheel, blinking hard at stoplights, chewing the inside of his cheek just to stay awake. kobe’s still quiet in the early morning, just the soft hum of traffic, vending machines glowing on empty sidewalks, and the occasional dog walker. the city’s moving. atsumu’s not.

by the time he gets to the training facility, he feels like he’s been awake for three days straight. maybe he has. he walks in with his hood up, earbuds in but no music playing, eyes low to avoid conversation. he nods when he has to. hums answers. mumbles “morning” like it hurts to say.

warm-ups are mechanical. stretches done on autopilot. the ache in his shoulders is sharp, his legs sluggish, his timing just a little off—but no one says anything yet.

and then practice starts for real.

receiving drills. fast sets. blocking patterns. serve accuracy. they run plays he’s done a thousand times but today they all feel wrong in his hands, like the ball’s got a mind of its own and none of it wants to stick. he’s too slow getting under the ball. he misses a call. one set goes way too tight. another floats wide.

he grits his teeth. wipes sweat from his brow. pretends he didn’t just hear someone mutter his name with that tone.

he’s here, but not really. not when everything feels like a rerun of you. the restaurant. your text. the silence. he keeps thinking about how you looked in the rearview mirror, that last morning in miami, still asleep, curled up on the couch, unaware that he’d already started screwing it all up again.

he snaps out of it just in time to miss a dig he should’ve read.

someone claps a little too loud behind him. someone else groans.

the rest of practice passes like a slow-motion car crash. it’s one mistake after another, rubbernecked by his teammates and replayed in his own head louder each time.

his tosses are off, his transitions are slow, his hands don’t snap the way they should.

his form? sloppy.

this is the same guy who used to bark at rookies for not planting right before a jump serve. the one who drilled “faster hands, cleaner footwork, mind the angles” into every player back in high school like it was gospel.

but today, bokuto’s outpacing him. suna’s giving him side-eye. sakusa looks one bad pass away from throwing a water bottle at his head.

“timeout,” coach barks. “bench. now.”

they don’t sit in a perfect line. this isn’t high school. but rest rotation has rhythm. muscle memory. sakusa wipes his face with his towel without touching the bottle. suna leans forward, elbows on his knees, the picture of practiced indifference.

atsumu?

he slumps down like gravity’s doubled. wipes sweat from his forehead. chugs half a gatorade like it might shock him awake. his hands shake, barely, but enough. he tells himself it’s from reps, from fatigue, from the long-ass flight.

but really?

it’s you.

his chest is tight. his neck is damp. the gym smells like sweat, cleaning spray, and failure.

bokuto jogs up during the water break, towel slung around his neck, still catching his breath. sweat glints off his temple, but his eyes are locked on atsumu, frown already forming.

“yo,” he pants. “this about a girl?”

atsumu exhales, sharp, defensive. it slips out too fast.

bokuto blinks. “oh shit. it is about a girl.” he squints, reading atsumu like a crossword. “wait… you look like you just got dumped.”

suna strolls by, dragging his towel across his neck. “yeah,” he deadpans. “’cause he did.”

atsumu shoots him a glare. “we weren’t even—”

bokuto tilts his head. “so who was it?”

“does it matter?” atsumu mutters, wiping his face.

bokuto shrugs. “it always matters.” then grins. “okay okay okay. was it the girl from new york? septum piercing?”

atsumu doesn’t answer at first.

just thinks back to her.

black hair and bangs. the one from that awful stretch in april 2022— right after your first real argument, the one that ended with you storming out of his place and turning your location off for three days.

he met her through a mutual, let her kiss on his neck outside some rooftop bar in shibuya. she gave him head in his car, and he didn’t even finish. kept thinking about how you said you hated being ignored when you cried.

“no,” he says finally.

bokuto grins. “french bulldog girl?”

atsumu grimaces.

that one hurt.

it was late july 2021. you’d been radio silent since late january, after he’d visited you twice in december and fucked you breathless in his car during christmas break.

since then? nothing. he assumed you were still on vacation with your ex, posting champagne flutes and boat selfies like they meant nothing—but your spam told a different story that month. bitter quotes. tagged tweets about not feeling loved. posts about hating all basketball players.

and then came the concert.

you posted a clip. one of atsumu’s favorite artists actually, but you wouldn’t know that. he almost went to slide up and tell you. just out of habit. just to connect. but then he clicked to the next story.

a photo of you. all teeth and lipgloss. smiling wide in a high-rise that was definitely not yours. bigger. more expensive. and around your neck?

a massive, gleaming vvs diamond chain.

undoubtedly the rapper’s.

yeah. that one messed him up. worse than he admitted.

even his teammates said something.

suna had scoffed, “do you have six-figure vvs diamond chain money?” paused. let the silence stretch. “yeah. didn’t think so. you’re in the big leagues when you really need to be playing t-ball. she’s not just some unknown girl you had a crush on in high school anymore. keep trying to win her back and watch your ass go broke.”

he took french bulldog girl out for drinks just to forget. couldn’t even touch her. ended the night early. she made a ten-part tiktok series about how he ghosted her, complete with dramatic pauses and fake tears.

“bro, no,” he mutters.

bokuto laughs under his breath. “the model who made you switch to oat milk?”

atsumu actually scoffs at that.

she was from october 2022, when things with you were already unraveling. after your miami brunch blowup. after the fights started happening more often than the laughs.

she was pretty, sure. knew all her angles. but he only really started seeing her because he wanted to make you jealous. the oat milk thing was a joke—you teased him once for drinking whole milk and the model had just happened to mention it on a date. he hated the way it tasted. forced it down for three weeks before giving up entirely.

“jesus,” atsumu mutters, tossing his towel onto the bench. “no.”

bokuto pauses. watches him carefully. “miami?”

atsumu looks down. clenches his jaw. “yeah.”

bokuto’s eyes widen. “wait, her? g-wagon girl?”

“don’t call her that.”

bokuto raises his hands, backing off. “okay, okay. chill.” but he’s already pulling out his phone.

“wait, I think she posted something recently. or maybe she hasn’t? now that i think about it, I haven’t seen her post in a minute.” he scrolls fast, fingers flying. “lemme check her account. what was her username again?”

atsumu doesn’t answer, but bokuto finds it anyway. suna leans in over his shoulder.

bokuto squints. “this her?”

atsumu glances, already annoyed. “yeah.”

“huh,” bokuto mutters. “you’re right. no posts since like november. just stories.”

he taps through a few. “wait… wait, bro. look at this one.”

he tilts the screen again.

it was posted four hours ago. a dimly lit steakhouse. heavy shadows. two wine glasses half-full. a closed checkbook on the table. and a tan wrist, well-dressed, a sleek watch catching the candlelight, pouring more red wine.

atsumu goes still.

“the fuck is that?” he mutters, snatching the phone.

he zooms in. squints. the man’s face isn’t in the frame. just his hand, clean-cut nails, and a damn rolex.

bokuto whistles. “soft launch, bro.”

“no tag,” atsumu mutters. “no face.”

his stomach flips. cold sweat creeps along the back of his neck.

suna exhales. “damn. that’s new.”

“could be nothing,” atsumu says, too fast. “cousin, maybe. or a friend.”

bokuto hums. “she got a cousin with a patek?”

atsumu’s head snaps up. “you think this shit’s funny?”

they go quiet.

he mutters something under his breath. too low to catch. none of them hear it, but he hears himself loud and clear.

posted four hours ago, he thinks. we were just together last week. what the fuck.

then, just loud enough, like he’s trying not to lose it: “you know what pisses me off?”

his voice cuts through the gym, rising over the thud of a serve hitting hardwood.

“i did everything for this girl. everything. bought her and her mom flowers. learned her starbucks order. held her hair back when she was throwing up after her birthday. flew out one time on my off day just to surprise her. stood outside for thirty-five minutes because she was out for happy hour with her friends.”

sakusa doesn’t even glance over. “we’re literally practicing.”

“no, lemme get this out,” atsumu snaps, towel wrung tight between his fists now. his voice keeps climbing, unraveling by the second.

“she used to say she didn’t trust me. that i was always around girls. always had someone new. but explain to me how the same girl can go and pop out forty-eight hours after we broke up again. like that doesn’t sound crazy to you?”

he scoffs, bitter. “i was the cheater? me? but she’s out here soft-launching a rolex and a fuckin’ wine glass while i’m still refreshing her page like a clown?”

his chest heaves. jaw locked.

no one says anything. the gym’s too quiet now.

and then the whistle blows.

drills resume. bodies move. shoes squeak. voices rise. and atsumu plays like a man possessed.

he’s reckless. snapping his wrist too hard, chasing blocks he shouldn’t. diving when there’s no need. missing sets he could do in his sleep. it’s not for the team. not for the score. just to move. to burn. to keep from thinking.

but it doesn’t work. the image clings to him like smoke. the dinner. the watch. the man who isn’t him.

in the locker room after, the silence buzzes like feedback.

atsumu slumps on the bench in front of his locker. hair still damp. palms raw. knee pads digging into the backs of his legs. he hasn’t even untied his shoes.

bokuto’s tossing protein bars into his bag. “yo,” he says carefully. “you gonna be alright?”

atsumu doesn’t look up. “i’m fine.”

“you’re acting like you saw her get engaged.”

“might as well have.”

suna leans back against the lockers. “you figure out who it is yet?”

“nah.”

bokuto raises an eyebrow. “wanna run the list again?”

“don’t start.”

a voice cuts in from the showers. “what’s going on?”

hinata walks out, towel slung low on his hips, hair sticking up in every direction. he looks between them, eyes narrowing like he’s walked in halfway through a bad movie.

“atsumu’s spiraling,” suna says flatly.

“’cause of g-wagon girl,” bokuto adds.

“she’s not—” atsumu starts, but gives up halfway.

“ohh,” hinata says, recognition dawning. “her.”

atsumu blinks. stiffens. “wait. what d’you mean her?”

hinata raises his hands, hesitant. “nothing, i just… i saw her story. she’s dating someone now, right?”

the room goes still.

atsumu’s voice drops, sharp and low. “you know who it is?”

hinata hesitates. then sighs. “yeah. i recognized the arm.”

bokuto turns. “you recognized the arm?”

“yeah,” hinata says, pulling out his phone. “hold on.”

hinata scrolls.

he scrolls past stories, past the grid, past the surface-level shine and clean reposts. then he pauses, thumb hovering over the one place no one’s looked.

your spam.

the one you removed atsumu from six months ago during a fight. said you needed space. never added him back.

you never posted much there. but apparently, you did last night.

hinata taps. tilts the screen.

the post isn’t anything dramatic. no caption. just a photo. grainy, low light, tinted by the glow of dashboard lights and passing streetlamps.

you’re in the passenger seat. only the corner of your face visible in the window reflection—gloss catching the light, a small piece of your braid tucked behind your ear.

but the focus is clear.

he’s in the driver’s seat. full face. clear as day. profile turned just enough to be unmistakable.

atsumu stares. his breath catches. “that’s—”

hinata nods. “oikawa.”

the name hits the floor like glass.

bokuto’s eyes go wide. “another setter? bro…” he trails off, stunned.

suna lets out a low whistle. “pro volleyball and your position? that’s actually crazy.”

atsumu exhales. slow. jagged. then mutters, “i’m gonna fuckin’ lose it.”

bokuto claps a hand to his shoulder. “nah, man. you already have.”

on the drive home, that’s all he thinks about. the tab. those damn wine glasses. the arm that wasn’t his.

and the fact that it should’ve been.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hi hi ^ ^ would it be alright if you could write Infected mistaking fleshcousin for reader and getting confused when they just respond with incoherent nonsense before realizing like "oh wait this isn't them" (bonus points if reader goes back into the elevator during their 'conversation') -💥

As the elevator doors opened once again, every occupant was booted out and had no choice but to enter the next floor:

WALL OF.

The concept of an obby with a looming threat from behind to motivate players sounded fun on paper, but in execution there was no guarantee that even a single person will be able to clear it without a scratch..

Or even make it to the other side alive.

They certainly had their work cut out for them, as the rapidly approaching wall of fire didn't allow them to think of anything else---nothing except their survival.

You were no stranger to this floor, having beaten it once or twice in the past. It was a brutal but challenging way to keep your parkour skills in tiptop shape--you're just grateful it's not Gregoriah's emporium or Mach's HALL OF (a terrible if not worse version of this incinerator obby).

Infected, who showed up on the elevator a few floors ago, was a little bummed out that he couldn't participate, pouting as he watched all the players prepare to run for their lives. The flames looked awesome and so did the rotating platforms!

He could totally clear it if only that stupid red barrier stopped him from exiting.

Of course, he had no idea what lied beyond the spinning platforms and tall ladders, and based on the survivors' reactions....it was probably better that he stayed curious.

As he waited, he looked to his right and was stunned to see...

You?

Yep, sure enough..you were here somehow.

A lot of things tend to go over the skater's head, including the fact that the "you" he was staring at wasn't actually you.

"0h! Y0u're still her3?" He tilted his head, before a grin overtook his face. "I th0ught that cr4zy chick kick3d 0ut everyb0dy...but hey! I get t0 chill with y0u! Th4'ts 4wes0me! I bet y0u get tir3d 0f this fl00r, yea?"

"Floors, doors, and smores. Friends miss the elevator drop." You responded, looking awfully dizzy and barely able to keep your head up. "Down to the boiling pot of fire. Burn burn bright!" Then you pointed to the incinerator wall that was now halfway across the area, admiring the flames.

Infected just blinked, unable to make sense of whatever the hell you just said.

"Dude, why are y0u talking cr4zy? L0L." He shook his head, laughing a little, although he stopped to sneeze. Most people would complain that he "infected" them, and he'd just shrug it off or glare. But you didn't mind so much, as you were the only one who hung around with him.

That's just proof he wasn't really sick. Everyone else was just being mean for no reason.

"Ar3 y0u sick? Y0u sh0uld g3t that ch3ck3d 0ut."

"Sick plagues fleeting worlds. Check outs at the market." You muttered, gazing listlessly at the man in pink, who continued to giggle at the nonsense you were speaking.

"Br4h, y0u're acting s0000 r4ndom right now. Even I c4n't k33p up with-"

"Grey cat tart miss you."

At that moment, Infected fell silent.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like laughing anymore.

You knew better than anyone that his missing cat was a rather..sensitive subject, and something he only shared with three people: Lampert, Unpleasant (reluctantly), and you. Of course, other elevator occupants have given him cats they found on various floors, ranging from angry red to calico to...sentient cardboard.

But none of them were his.

None of them were Poptart.

"....if he d0es, why h4sn't he c0me h0me yet?" He frowned, now feeling a bit downtrodden. "Man, why did y0u hav3 t0 kill my vib3? N0w I'm sad..."

All that he got from you was total silence.

Yeah..

Now he was starting to realize something wasn't quite right about the person standing beside him. He's 99% sure that you knew Poptart's name, so why did you say it like that?

Why not just say his name?

Then...it finally clicked.

"H0ld 0n..am I even t4lking t0-?"

*ding*

Infected looked to see the doors opening once again, and of all the people who were forced to complete WALL OF this time around...only you made it back alive. The real you.

You were sweaty and out of breath, clothes smelling like smoke as you thanked the gods above for the elevator's functional A/C kicking in. You dragged yourself into a corner to open a medkit, trying to get your breathing and heartrate down so you could properly speak,

But all the while you failed to notice your best friend's bug-eyed expression.

"[Y/n]...?"

Blinking, you looked at Infected. "Hey, let me tell you how much that SUCKED." You sprayed a burn on your arm before wrapping gauze around it. "It was totally different from last time! Who told her that having machines shoot snowballs at my ass was a good idea?! You know what it's like to freeze and sweat at the same time?! It's horrible."

"....br4h, that's cr4zy. But I was l0sing my mind in h3r3, 'cuz I th0ught I w4s talking to Y0U all al0ng!" He pointed to your clone, who he now realized was FleshCousin. "N0 w0nder that crazy lady didn't b00t y0u out!"

The creature, who took notice of your tired and battered state, only tilted their head. "Is..friend okay with the freeze and heat advisory?" They uttered, trying to imitate concern.

As you finished patching your arm, you looked up at them and smiled lightly. "I'm okay, Fleshy. Thank you...at least someone asked." You sent a pointed glare at Infected, who seemed baffled.

"I-I wuz g0nna ask, t00!" He huffed. "I just...I was getting mad 'cuz Flesh br0 here started talking ab0ut P0pt4rt..and I th0ught it was y0u. H0w....d0 they kn0w about him..?"

"Beats me. These guys know a lot of things, even Mark's and Wallter's..erm..past." You put the kit away and leaned against the wall, sighing in relief as you heard the elevator's music come on. It was a peaceful jazzy melody, putting you in a slightly better mood than you were a few minutes ago.

"Th3y sure had me f00led." Infected chuckled, shaking his head, although you eyed him strangely. "What?"

"...they've been riding with us for a while, dude."

".....huh? Re4lly???"

"Yeah. How did you not notice there were two of us?"

"Dunn0, this 3levat0r got so cr0wded I forg0t.....L0LZ."

".....of course you did."

[tysonfurybattlepass]

hope you dont mind me asking but do have any tips for drawing anthro/furry characters anatomy? i want to start getting into drawing them and the way you draw their body types is genuinely the best way ive ever seen them drawn

sorry for the wait, anon! life has been happening but i'm preparing for artfight right now and these refs will make great visual aids.

to start out, not all of my characters are equal amounts anthro! i use a sliding scale which i have labelled (for my own convenience, not due to the practical definitions of these terms in evolutionary biology) from basal (beastly) to derived (humanoid). there are pros and cons to having a body type toward one end or another, which i keep in mind when considering a character's abilities and lifestyle.

megantereon has a more basal body form, with most of his features being adapted for a traditional quadrupedal high-power ambush predator. he does not have fully opposable thumbs, and his shoulderblades are mobile enough to switch between pointing outward (human condition) and pointing downward (quadruped condition). for an example of what i mean, you can look for images of bruce lee rotating his shoulderblades to point downward/forward. this is not usually possible for the average human and looks really strange, but it's how a facultative biped like meg is able to point his paws directly down underneath him when he goes for a quadrupedal trot.

because he's so... not-humanoid, meg is pretty awkward on two legs, and really only uses an upright stance if he needs to carry something or reach higher. most of his actual locomotion is done in the way an irl cat would do it. his only semi-opposable and small thumb means he cannot grip a writing instrument like a person, though he can probably hold onto wider objects like a can. conversely, these things that make him awkward to humans make him devastatingly effective as a cat. he retains the ability to sprint at 50mph, leap up to 10ft vertically and 30ft forward, as well as climb trees almost as well as irl leopards. his physical strength and striking power is very high because he doesn't have humanoid fine motor skills in his paws. these abilities would not be possible if he had more human anatomy. he is unable to perform highly fine-tuned skills like writing and efficiently operating smart devices, but he retains the power, grace, speed, and athletic prowress of an apex predator. that is his tradeoff.

conversely, leo is derived. she is functionally human in a lot of ways, with a short torso and long legs. she is an obligate biped because her legs are so much longer than her arms. though her thick fingers and claws make her hands less fine-tuned than a human's, she is still capable of things like texting and writing (though she might need larger buttons on her device than a human would!)

leo retains some inhuman abilities, like her ability to climb with her claws and leap higher than a person due to her long feet, but these aren't as exaggerated as they would be if she were built like a cat. she blends in well with a more human society and can partake in activities like video games and playing instruments, at the expense of a lot of raw power and atheticism. that is her tradeoff.

i hope this helped! i spend a lot of time mulling over and redesigning my characters to best fit the lifestyle and background they have. i do it on a case by case basis, and i've had to try to retroactively fit all this incredible variation into the lore and universal ruleset of carnivora. the process is ongoing...

[blackboxtheater]

For the fake fic title ask game thing:

“The Consequences of A Bad Joke”

Fake Fic Title: The Consequences of A Bad Joke

Summary: Pearl is trying to annoy Gem. Gem is trying to flirt with Etho. Etho is trying to be a good ally. And Grian is just trying to figure out why pickles were even included in that permit in the first place.

---

With that title my mind immediately went to a gemtho story with the bad joke being the ongoing bickering between Gem and Pearl about pickles, an innuendo about pickles looking like *ahem* other phallic objects, and an ensuing comedy of errors style miscommunication about Gem being a lesbian.

Like, Etho is in the shopping district and overhears Pearl's "Hey Gem, you got any pickles?" and Gem snaps back in an extremely exacerbated voice "Stop asking for pickles! The entire point of being a lesbian is there are no pickles involved!"

To which Etho, who is harboring a crush on Gem, immediately thinks 'oh, okay. So Gem only likes girls. Guess I don't have a chance romantically.' But since he still enjoys spending time with her, he starts making an effort to relate to her. Etho just feels like he would be the kind of guy to have the right spirit, but also have no idea how to communicate it well. He'd be the kind of person to google 'what do lesbians like?' and then try (and fail) to casually work that into conversation. Like, he sees the pride flag is a rainbow so he designs a redstone machine that can rotate a diamond so it casts a rainbow across the wall all day as the sun moves across the horizon. When he shows Gem he's like "I can build one in your base if you want one, so you can have more like, rainbows in your base. I know you like those." Gem mentions another female creator from MCC and Etho thinks Gem might be talking about her because she is interested in this woman, so Etho is trying to be supportive and goes like "yeah, she's cool. She's really good at like, sword fighting." Because internally he's going 'okay so google said lesbians like swords and Gem like swords, so I can mention that. But thats not how I talk to my guy friends about hot girls. Should I say this woman is hot? Do lesbians and straight guys talk about the same things???'

Meanwhile, Gem, a bisexual who is trying really hard to flirt with Etho is baffled why Etho is suddenly asking her if she listens to Chappell Roan and Brandi Carlile because he's just started listening to them and their music is great, but Gem has never heard him talk about music before in his life.

Eventually they clear up the miscommunication and get together. And in the end, Gem finds it endearing that Etho put in all the effort to try to be supportive while Etho does keep some Brandi Carlile on his playlists cause hey she's a pretty good singer.

[liuisi]

top 5 imagery to use in your poetry? top 5 memories from this year so far? top 5 attributes and/or names of God (like strong tower, shepherd, etc)?

imagery:

been really fond of animal imagery lately (hehe) like my brain is Drawn to it more .. a little twist on my usual personification!!

ANYTHING ABOUT THE BODY!!! the more visceral and Specific the better .. i WILL write a more anatomy focused poem one day it will happen

describing the senses.. touch and smell and taste... big fan of doing this. this IS different from #2

been using Temporal Descriptors a lot more ? last week last night today this morning ... i think this goes back to the more conversational and grounded tone i like to keep

i dont know if this counts as Imagery Exactly but ive been into outright addressing the fact that This Is A Poem in the Poem lately... this is the january 2 zakaria mohammed effect

memories: honestly in no particular order

been carpooling with my friend to youth group the last few weeks because she moved literally 5 minutes from my house and we've been having SO much fun debriefing after ever saturday evening

practicing with the music team on fridays .. ough guys i love singing did you know. i am not very good at it but i LOVE IT

made my friend her first matcha and she made the ☹️ face after tasting it but then proceeded to drink the whole thing anyways

when me and my bestie finished uni this year the same day so we met up after our exams and walked around for hours

oh you know ive been able to go to prayer meetings on wednesdays now that im out of uni and its been SO NICE .... type of thing where every week i trick myself into being like auuuuugh i dont want to go :( but then i do and everything is beautiful and wonderful forever

attributes of God:

as a creator... The Creator: been thinking about this a lot especially as ive been trying to create (write) myself.... like you know when we talk about how our goal should be to become More and More like Christ... creating is part of that!!! i think!!!

giver/generous: salvation as a Gift was a theme today so it's rotating in my mind.. ephesians 2:8-9 for reals..

you mentioned it but YES sheperd.... because i do desperately need His sheperding in literally everything

the LIGHT ‼️ like where else do you go when the world is dark!!!

oh the HOLY: this kind of goes hand in hand with the light tbh because not only does He pierce through the darkness He does not tolerate it!!! He has Nothing Of It in Him! purely!

[blackjackkent]

OK for some reason even from my SSD the shaders took 12354125123 years today but I'm finally in for more Veilguard!

Our first stop is check-ins with Lucanis and Bellara in the wake of our coffee date (oh, and the terrifying eldritch qunari).

Lucanis first:

"Rook. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course. Something wrong?"

"Teia wants to meet." Lucanis sounds remarkably strained as he says this, which is puzzling.

"That doesn't sound like a bad thing," Helena says, bemused, leaning her hip against one of the nearby baskets of fruit that keep appearing back here courtesy of the Caretaker.

Lucanis frowns, his eyes dropping to the floor. "She wants to plan Caterina's funeral."

Helena blinks, then winces. "Oh. Right..."

"If you don't mind, I... could use some backup. In case Spite gets out of hand."

"Let's not keep Teia waiting!"

Aw. Helena still doesn't really get the deal with Spite, but she is, I think, no stranger to having lost people - not in her line of work - so she can understand wanting to have some moral support. We will in fact keep Teia waiting for a little while cos our to-do list is extremely long. But we'll get on that soon, Lucanis.

-----

Next up Bellara, who is hanging out with Neve!

"A sharp eye, a quick mind, and luck. That's most of the job," Neve is saying when Helena enters.

Bellara grins eagerly. "So... do you think I could become one? An investigator?"

Helena watches with amusement as Neve shifts uncomfortably while trying to decide how to answer.

"It... takes a certain amount of focus, too," she finally says carefully.

"Oh," Bellara says cheerfully, seemingly unperturbed by this realization. "Okay. Well... maybe not, then."

(A/N: Hee. <3 Also - can we please get Neve an ice pack or something? That bruise is really fucking holding on.)

"I still can't believe it," Bellara goes on, hooking her hands around one knee and looking at Neve admiringly. "I'm talking to *the* Neve Gallus."

"And that's sweet," Neve says ruefully, still looking a little uncomfortable, "but I don't need the flattery."

"Right," Bellara says earnestly. "Just a person. I'll try to remember."

Helena chuckles, and Neve looks up at once, clearly welcoming the distraction. "Rook!" she says brightly. "Here to join us?"

Helena grins. Neve isn't getting off that easily. "I'm glad to see you're making friends, Bellara," she says casually to the young elf.

"Oh, definitely!" Bellara gushes. "Neve's, well-- Neve! She's just been so kind."

Neve looks as if she's trying to decide whether to be amused or embarrassed. "It turns out Bellara knows my work," she murmurs wryly. "Or at least the parts that make the papers."

"It all sounds so exciting." Bellara's eyes brighten as she speaks. "The things you've done, the people you've helped!"

"Those are the ones that go well," Neve says with a shrug. "You don't hear about the rest. Everyone wants a scandal - or a happy ending."

Bellara giggles. "Or both! Like that time you told the marquis to--"

Neve winces. "Hold on--" she says hastily. "I don't think Rook's interested in that story."

A wide, shit-eating grin spreads across Helena's face at once. "Rook's a little interested," she says, mock-innocently, her eyes narrowing teasingly.

Neve sighs, chuckling. "Look. I'd love to - honest. But that story needs the right atmosphere. After dark over bad coffee - or expensive wine. Take your pick."

"Speaking of!" Bellara bursts out, veering abruptly onto this new conversational track. "What's the situation with cooking, exactly? Are we on a rotation, or what?" She rubs her jaw thoughtfully. "I can help out - I'm a pretty good cook. With some things at least. Well... most of the time. Sometimes I get distracted and things burn."

(A/N: I love her, your honor.

Interestingly, we have the three normal diplomatic-aggressive-humorous options here and then another one marked with a star symbol that's just "I have to go":

Unsure what the implications would be of selecting this, but anyway Helena still wants to chat, which is good because this conversation is very cute.)

Helena laughs, shaking her head. "There's no official rotation. Everyone just makes extra food when they get hungry." Lucanis has been in the kitchen more than the others, and not only because he has inexplicably decided to put his bunk there. But just as often, food seems to just... manifest, presumably delivered by the caretaker spirit. Helena frankly finds this a little unnerving, but it's hardly the strangest thing happening to her right now.

"Do you mostly cook Dalish foods?" Neve asks curiously. "I haven't had the chance to try many."

"Sometimes," Bellara answers. "Not a lot of options when you're out in the forest. But I've learned a lot of different cooking styles! Antivan, Rivaini-- I even learned how to make Tevinter khachapuri!"

Helena and Neve's eyebrows both shoot up simultaneously. "Wait. Real khachapuri?" Neve asks; all her mysterious panache (and embarrassment) has drifted away for the moment and she sounds legitimately excited. "The hollowed-out bread, three kinds of cheese? I *love* khachapuri." She shoots a look at Helena with a grin. "What about you, Rook? What are you craving?"

But there's a matching grin on Helena's face at the mention of khachapuri. She's lived in Minrathous her whole life - at least the part of it she can remember - and one of her fondest memories is of her first meeting being recruited by the Shadow Dragons, and sharing one of those bread bowls with her recruiter and talking about the city. "Cheese and bread were the only words I needed to hear," she says eagerly.

"You have *no* idea," says Neve.

(A/N: Yes I fucking do! I'm Tevene like you, Neve. Get it together, Bioware.)

Bellara nods a few times, her grin joining theirs. "It's good! With the right cheese," she says. "Which can be hard to find out in the forest."

"Well, we'll have to see what we can find you," says Neve. Then she raises a hand and adds thoughtfully, "You should have an assistant. Someone to make sure it doesn't burn. See if it tastes right. That sort of thing."

Bellara's eyes go very wide. "Neve Gallus? Helping me cook?"

Neve winces again. "Again... the flattery..."

"Right. Just a person," Bellara says firmly. "Got it."

Neve relaxes. "Great. Now... let's see what we can scrounge up."

[hellishere7980]

Whatever It Takes (CH-6)

From Plymouth, she made her way to London.

London. It fitted her. The clouds stopped the blinding sunlight from ever reaching the ground. Like a tamer version of Gotham. Obviously the crime rates were not near each other, but at least the atmosphere matched. Dark. Cloudy. Cold.

Six days after Ra’s Al-Ghul died.

One day she was sitting in the park when she came across a curious old woman. Mariam was just sitting on a bench, minding her own business when an old woman with a smiling face and a funny little bun came along and sat beside her on the bench. 

“You like the clouds, I see.” she said.

Normally Mariam would not have replied, but it was days since she had a decent conversation with anyone, soo…

“It keeps the heat down.” Is what she said in response.

“Heat in London?”

“If the clouds weren't here, it would be a nice warm day with blinding sunshine and what not.”

“True.”

With that, they both sat in silence. Soon it was lunchtime and the old lady got up.

“What would you like to have for lunch?” She asked.

“How do you know my mother has not made lunch for me already?” Mariam asked, assessing her from the corner of her eye.

“Because most kids who are to eat at home start looking around for their mother as soon as it dawns lunchtime.” The old lady asked, smiling at Mariam. “I was thinking. Sandwiches would make a splendid lunch. What do you say?”

“No, thank you.”

“Look, child. I can tell that you have some sort of training. And that you are on the run.” 

Mariam tensed.

“I'm not here to hurt you.” The old lady continued. “This is me trying to return- more accurately, pass on the favor. Someone much dear to me also suffers through this.”

“So this is your way of easing your guilt? You couldn't save your loved one, so now you're trying to save me? I don't need to be saved.” Mariam said, getting up.

“My Fu is alive, thank you very much.” The old lady replied, frustration seeping into her voice.

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Nobody should leave a child on their own.”

“Child.” Mariam let out a sarcastic laugh. “Haven't heard that in a while.”

“Come on, young lady. I think you would like to meet Fu.”

And that's how she met him. That's how she met Wang Fu. The Guardian of the Mother Miracle Box. That's how she learned the old lady's name. Marianne Lenoir. Curious little coincidence there. Marianne, Mariam. But her life was nothing if not a coincidence. Her birth to her survival. Coincidence.

Meanwhile, in America (Batcave)

“You realize, Bruce, she doesn't have that level of training!” A female figure said. Her frustration evident through the huge screen in the Batcave.

“Talia, I know you don't like the sound of it, but it fits.” Batman said, his cowl off. “Tell me, who else would have the training? We both know it's not that simple to kill Ra's Al Ghul. All his assassins always sweep a perimeter wherever he goes. They are constantly on rotating grounds, otherwise it would have been so easy to kill Ra's Al Ghul.”

“Bruce, you talk like I don't know that.” Talia said, the sounds of swords clashing behind her clear enough to echo through the batcave. “Oh, and I wish they would stop fighting already!” She said loudly, shooting a dirty look over her shoulder where the sound of swords was coming from. “Continuous clash. Even though they know they are outnumbered, they can't give up.”

Nightwing came from behind to stand beside Batman's chair. “Those rebel groups have not quite burned down yet?” 

“They would have, but they refused to change. Normally there wouldn't be so much rebellion if I had just inherited it, but father with all his ‘females are inferior’ complexity which By the way was known throughout the league. Those groups are simply unwilling to have a female Demon Head.” 

“It doesn't help that the League of Assassins is changing its aims, does it?” Nightwing asked with a sad smile.

“No it does not.” Talia agreed, slightly shaking her head. “How I wish she was here.”

“I'm sorry, Talia.” Bruce said. “But she simply vanished.”

“And that's what confuses me.” Talia said. “She doesn't have that level of training that she can simply disappear off the bat–”

“Pun intended?” Nightwing asked with a sly smile.

“No.” Talia said, rubbing her forehead. “Coming back to the topic, she couldn't have killed Father. You realize to kill him somebody would have had to throw the stone based on their pure aim and–” She threw her hands up in frustration. “It's not as easy to aim with a stone as it is to aim with a gun. Whoever did this had remarkable marksmanship.”

“There's no point in fretting over it, Talia. We have our systems up. I will check daily but I think we should trust her enough to know that she knows what she's doing.” Bruce said.

“Wait a minute. Hold up.” Nightwing said, turning towards him. “Where was this trust when I used to disappear?”

“Girls are more mature.” Bruce mumbled.

And the night ended with Nightwing's offended sounds and Talia's soft laughing.

Bonus:

Mariam looked at the floating green turtle creature in front of her. She stared at the creature, and the creature stared back at her. Fu and Marianne looked in anticipation from behind her.

Mariam turned to look at them, pointing at that floating green turtle thing. “ What in the unholy hell is THAT!?

Bonus #2

“So,” Mariam said as she and Fu made their way back to the massage parlor after bidding Marianne farewell at the train station. “How many Kwamis are there?”

“You are not ready for that information. Just as we don't put the noodles in the water unless it's boiling, you'll have to show patience before you are taught about the miraculous.”

“Excuse me Mister but this is a life, not a fucki** pot!”

[peony-pearl]

A little Lumi and Hollander plot I keep rotating in my brain like all the time is one of the first scenarios where Lumi realized she has feelings for him

Hollander goes off on a mission with some SOLDIERs; standard stupid stuff, he tells her. But he gets a free hotel and meals so whatever. Sometimes there's decent sightseeing, depending on wherever you're sent to. He's going to pick up some monster samples to test for research; SOLDIER does the dirty work; Hollander pokes around before the bodies return to the planet.

After going on the mission, he keeps in touch with her for several days until, one evening, he hasn't responded. Lumi understands he may have fallen asleep, so she doesn't hound him.

The next day, during work in the Shinra Lounge Coffee Shop, she's approached by a Turk known as Cissnei; her stomach drops. Have her conversations with Hollander about their anti-Shinra rhetoric come to light? She maintains her composure until Cissnei tells her:

'Miss Ucello, you were found in Doctor Hollander's phone as an emergency contact. There's been an incident.'

Emergency contact? Incident?

Lumi listens as Cissnei pulls her aside.

Anti-Shinra rebels had intercepted the mission data and found where Hollander and the SOLDIERs were stationed. During the night their rooms were ambushed.

Hollander was in critical condition. They'd already used multiple healing spells on him just to keep him going until they could get him back to Midgar.

Lumi listens, feeling the familiar emotion of fear - the chalk white that ran through her veins that she remembered during her time under Corneo's thumb. She thought she'd lost this emotion.

But Cissnei can see it. She tells Lumi the helicopter will be arriving and landing shortly, and she offers for her to be there as it does. Lumi immediately agrees to go, hangs up her apron and rushes off with Cissnei.

As the helicopter comes into view and lands, Lumi feels sick. Her hands have been wringing together the way they used to every morning down in the slums, awaiting the fresh horrors of the day.

A crew wheels Hollander out on a stretcher, hooked up to as many wires as possible for the stretcher. He looks unrecognizable, bruised and wearing ripped clothing still stained in blood. Lumi isn't fazed by the bloodied visage - but she is fazed by the fact that it's her only friend.

She stands next to Cissnei, her mind screaming to see him, but she can't stop them from wheeling him to be treated. She barely registers another Turk, Rude, approaching Cissnei.

'It's fifty/fifty,' Rude says. 'His ribs were already broken before they could do CPR.'

Lumi hears a 'hmm' from Cissnei.

It's unconcerned. Lumi knows Hollander's reputation. She looks to Cissnei, holding back tears in her olive eyes and thanks her. She asks if she can be notified once he is cleared for visitors. Cissnei nods.

Lumi, doing her best to not tremble, thanks them and... leaves. She staggers back to the coffee shop, her mind racing until she tells herself she has a job to do and no one wants to see her cry. Old habits kick in and she shuts down, going back to her duties in the coffee shop. She finishes her shift, gets her things and then...

What next? She clocks out, thinks about going home and...

She runs to the bathroom to lock herself inside and fall to the floor sobbing. It's the first time she's cried since well before coming topside. She's feels like she's dying. She sounds like it too. She's in there for what feels like an eternity, trying to process what she's feeling.

She receives a call. She looks at the phone - it's been two hours since the end of her shift. At least six hours since Hollander was brought back.

The person calling her is Cissnei.

'He's out of surgery. You can visit him for a while, if you'd like'

Lumi's voice clears, free of emotion. 'Thank you.'

Lumi is escorted to the infirmary. She is brought to his room, where, once the door closes, her composure shakes. She approaches her friend, asleep, covered in wires, hooked up to IVs, his big mouth full of stupidity is blocked by a breathing tube. Lumi walks over, barely feeling in control of her feet, and she sits in a provided uncomfortable chair next to the bed. She listens to the machines in place of his voice. Her hands grip the checkered fabric of her pants before she reaches out to touch his bruised hand. Her fingers brush the hospital bracelet on his wrist.

'You can't leave me yet, you idiot,' her words are barely a whisper. 'We've got too much to do.'

Too much to do together.

She reluctantly leaves when time is up. She has no choice but to go home. She doesn't eat, she barely sleeps.

The night seeps into the morning; she blearily gets up for work, her mind and body still wracked from fear. She goes into work, where everyone can tell she's just a little off... but she still works efficiently. Her breaks and time after work are spent sitting and dissociating or visiting Hollander. Her full day off is spent only being able to see him for an hour. Otherwise she lingers around town, aimlessly going from place to place, sitting at cafes, or on street benches. She holds onto her phone like a lifeline, just in case.

It's easy to be alone. She thought she'd done well to remain distant; but once again she's proven wrong. She has no photos to look at; but she does have voice messages. She listens to to old clips of him telling her where he'll be waiting for her when they've met for drinks. She's spiralling... but differently.

Days pass; she goes to work. She goes to see him. His bruises are slowly changing. She feels hopeful.

One day after work, she sees a missed call - under his name. No voicemail.

She calls him back, hopeful, feeling every second that the phone rings crawl by until-

A click on the other end.

'Hey,' his voice is raspy and faded, but it's him. 'It's been a while.'

Lumi blurts out his name of 'Silas' before she can control herself. 'Oh my god how are you feeling?!'

'Well... bad. But-' he makes a sound as he tries to get comfortable. 'I suppose I could be dead. That would put a damper on things.'

For the first time in almost a week, Lumi laughs; its soft and relieved; but the best laugh of her life so far.

'I'll be right up-'

'No, no,' Hollander insists. 'I've got doctors all around me now that I'm awake. We won't get any time to talk. I just wanted to check in with you.'

Lumi closes her eyes in relief. 'I had a Turk come to get me because you put me down as your emergency contact. Do you know I almost shit myself seeing that? You could have warned me, you know.'

The broken, but real laugh on the other end caused her to smile.

'Ahh, but where's the fun in that?'

Lumi shook her head as she heard doctors murmur. 'Get some rest, jackass.'

'I missed you too, bitch.'

Lumi wipes the tears of both relief and happiness from her cheek.

'I missed you too. I'll bring you some coffee tomorrow.'

'... I'd like that. Go rest, Lumi.'

'I will. You too.'

She ends the call, looking at his caller information on her phone. She lets out a shuddering breath before holding her phone to her chest.

Dammit.

Dammit.

Goddamn it all.

She loved him.

[masterjedilenawrites]

Hi Lena!

Happy anniversary 🥳 and thank you for this great event. What a great idea for Valentine's Day. 💕

I would be happy if you sent me to your intergalactic speed dating 😊

I'm Tina, 37 years old. No children. Fully employed. I'm honest and direct, which many people don't deal with well, but I'm also warm, open, helpful and always there for you without judgment. Because of my financial independence, I'm looking for someone who wants me for me and makes me laugh as well as gives me a feeling of security and love.

I am a clone whore 🙈 and looking for the man for the happily ever after. 🥰

I'm excited to see what you have in store for me. 🤞🏻

Thanks for organizing and for being a wonderful part of this fandom 🫶🏻

Hi Tina! Thanks for sending in the first request of the event! I'm excited to write up a few dates for you, hopefully you'll connect with one of them! 🤗

Your first date is...

Echo!

Echo was nervous as hell about this speed-dating event, so starting the evening off at your table ends up being a huge relief. He finds your honesty and openness so refreshing. He likes not having to play the small talk game and can really get to know who you are and what you want. In return, he's just as honest about himself - how he's interested in a romantic partner but knows he's not everyone's cup of tea, that ultimately he'd like to settle down but for now he's kept busy helping Rex liberate their clone brothers and checking in on his Batch brothers on Pabu...

Unfortunately, the timer goes off before he has a chance to gauge whether you might be open to his lifestyle. He gives you a salute with his scomp link before reluctantly rotating to the next table.

Taking his place is...

Wolffe!

Wolffe has no idea how he got dragged to one of these events. He's been trying to keep an open mind but so far he's not impressed. Though you don't seem to mind his grumpiness too much, and before long, your warmth and confidence peak his interest. He's attracted your independence, and you appreciate that your directness doesn't seem to bother him like it does others. You share some jokes about how weird these events can be, exchange some details about each other's goals in life, and also manage to touch on the topic of kids and your shared agreement on not wanting them.

Wolffe seems more prepared for the timer than your first day, though he looks just as unwilling to move on to the next (or maybe that's just his resting grumpy face).

Your last date of the evening is...

Fox!

Fox looks tired but he keeps up with your conversation easily and doesn't miss a beat. He attentively listens to whatever you have to say and asks intriguing follow-up questions that really get you thinking. He shares a bit about himself, too, though you can tell he'd rather not talk too much about his stressful job. He surprises you a few times, like when he cracks a few witty jokes, and when he answers your question about his dream date consisting of all the classically sappy romantic things. He even manages to quote a few lines of his favorite poem before the timer signals the end of your speed date.

The event winds down by allowing everyone to socialize away from the tables, providing an opportunity to arrange an official date with anyone that may have caught your attention. These three guys may be quite different from each other, but they enjoyed their time getting to know you, and any one of them would be happy to have you ask them out!

💝 Valentine's / Blog-versary Speed Dating Event details

👋 Request

👑 Master Lists

[guhamun]

@iniziare said (inbox):

(Changli to Calcharo. Don't ask, I don't know, she just decided to ramble— I didn't want to jump to assumptions that she fully knows, or that they'd crossed paths, I wanted it left open enough to interpretation for you. But seeing who she is, and what her job is, she has high suspicions as to who he is, but doesn't say it, I figured that might be more fun. Up to you. Hope this works!! And thank you for requesting her, and apologies for the length!) The street is quieter here— this spot where revelry thins into reverence, and lanterns grow sparse until they drift like scattered petals across the sky. A breeze passes through the corridor between pavilions, cool with the scent of firecrackers and sweet rice. And there she leans, ever lightly against a carved railing, wrapped in layered silk the color of midnight and molten gold. Unbothered, as if somehow aware of his presence before his boots ever touched stone. "Ah." She doesn't yet turn, and her voice is low, cultured, and dipped in the kind of elegance that need not announce itself. "You're far from the crowd. Most who linger this long are either lost, or seeking the quiet." Then, does her gaze lift to him— slow, unreadable, and far too perceptive. She did not name him. She did not need to voice her suspicion aloud, even if it teased so close to fact. Instead, eyes sweep over his frame, but not in scrutiny, but in something... softer. The sort of attention one might give to the edge of a blade kept behind glass. "I find the quiet here gentler than most," she goes on, as if the conversation had been invited by him instead of her. "But it can be sharp in its own way, don't you think?" A pause. And then, with the same ease one might mention the weather, she continues, voice still soft, and dipped ever so lightly in something that seems almost warm. "There is a place tucked behind the theater. Difficult to find if you don't know what you're looking for, but you'll recognize it by smell alone." Another pause, very brief. "The chef on rotation tonight— one of my favorites, he makes a spicy meat with pavo plums that's worth the walk." Her lips curve to a smile. "Request extra plums." Her gaze returns to the last handful of lanterns that claim the sky, letting the suggestion linger for just a moment. "I do hope you'll consider it," her head tilting just so at the conclusion. “I’d hate for the night to pass without you tasting something warm.”

SHARP INSTINCTS. CALCHARO WAS not expecting to be noticed from this vantage point. For many a night, he often stood over Jinzhou, overlooking the people down below from a comfortable distance no different from a silent sentinel. Not once had anyone ever thought to look up and catch a glimpse of the mercenary, but that was because the people felt safe here. It wasn’t like back at the Lawless Zone where you had to constantly be on the alert for anything out of the ordinary. Even with dangers all around them, those who lived here still felt safe – trusted that those who protected them would continue to do so. ❝I see you live up to your reputation.❞ It was said that nothing escaped this woman’s sight. That if you believed that she did not notice something, then chances were, she did. Calcharo had thought such words were merely the usual gossip that sprang up whenever someone of note was brought into a discussion. However, he was beginning to question that line of thinking now that he had actually met the Counselor in person. Just as he knew her name, there was no doubt in his mind that she very much knew him as well.

     ❝I prefer to keep my distance.❞ There was honesty to his words, as curt as they might have come across. He was someone who was meant to be ignored, meant to be unseen. And just like that, if you blinked, he’d be gone, leaving you to wonder if you ever saw him at all. Calcharo ensured that those who laughed and enjoyed the company of their loved ones, were able to do so without fear – without worry for what might lurk in the shadows. ❝…But I will agree with you, it is quieter here.❞ The only other sound that could be discerned was the gentle breeze that caressed them both, a low whistle in the ears. Silence lingered between them, yet there was nothing unpleasant about it. It was the kind that one would have if they were looking up at the moon, admiring its beauty within that dark expanse of sky. Comforting, almost. When that quiet was broken by the sound of his present company’s voice, even still, that feeling remained.

     How peculiar.

     Pavo plums… Calcharo had heard of those a few times. Spicy food was a luxury that he had come to enjoy over time, the sharp tastes something he had been so unwholly used to when his diet consisted of whatever was deemed edible when he was out on field work. Watching the rising of what few lanterns were left take to the sky, he said nothing for a moment. Despite appearing otherwise, he was quite interested in this information that he had just been given. ‘There is a place tucked behind the theater…’ Yes, he believed he knew what she was talking about. It was an easy enough restaurant to miss when others were out at the forefront, but he had seen it. Turning away, he began to take his leave, although before he did… ❝Thank you for the recommendation.❞ And just like that, he was gone.

[spinelli-gemelli]

Is Emma Really THAT bad?

(A Degrassi Essay about Emma Nelson)

Part 1

As of last September, I've been a member of Reddit, and, in traditional Reddit fashion, I have joined subreddits in topics of my interests. Suffice to say, I am all UP in that Degrassi community. It's a drama party in the best way. If you're out in the Degrassi wild too, you may have noticed that there are a handful of characters that the fans love, and I mean LOVE, to hate. There's a rotation of girls that get most of the heat, which I will refer to as "The Unholy Trinity". As the name suggests, this Trinity consists of three most disliked Degrassi girls, who are the following:

Ashley Kerwin

Emma Nelson

Clare Edwards

Honorable mentions go to Ellie, Becky, and Maya. There is also an occasional Liberty disdain for those who feel brazen enough to criticize a black character even when they are not represented well in the show (not to say that fans aren't allowed to criticize black characters: all is fair game in the fictional universe). This post will focus on Emma. I will say, that, out of the three girls mentioned in the trio, Emma probably gets the least amount of hate, though honestly between her and Ashley it's a toss up depending on the season. What inspired me to write this essay was a YouTube compilation video entitled, "Emma nelson being the worst Degrassi Character for 5 minutes straight" by NysClips, which I will link here.

First things first: I'm not coming after the uploader of this video, nor do I know her personally, so this is NOT an attack on her. In fact, I like this video: the editing does what it should do in a compilation video. She includes the set up to the line, the punchline (or action), then cuts to the next clip. This person also doesn't ruin the humor by smothering the scenes in a bunch of memes and annoying sound effects, which I appreciate a LOT. She understands the concept of less is more. I am simply analyzing what the author deems as Emma's worst moments and will determine for myself whether I believe each moment in the video is truly that bad. Keep in mind that I am only being half serious, so hopefully the tone of the essay reflects as such. This is just a fun little argument with me disagreeing with the "Emma is the worst" stance that fans tend to take. It goes without saying this is an opinion piece, so you don't have to agree with any of my takes. Now that that's out of the way, let's take a look at all of the moments in the video. There's a lot to cover, so I will space them out in multiple posts.

1. "Liberty, shut up for once!"

We're coming out of the gate hot! Emma is completely over Liberty's blabbering and was rude to the poor girl as a result. This is from the epsiode "I Want Candy" (3x20). Emma is in the B plot, and here she believes that her stepfather's chemotherapy has failed him, and, as a result, she is on edge...until Alex's meddling pushes her over the top (a story for another time). Needless to say, with her belief that Snake was going to die soon, she wasn't in a healthy state of mind, so when Liberty is perky and geeking out over their Canadian Geography class, Emma is just not in the mood for it, so she snaps at Liberty in the hallway. I felt bad for Liberty at this moment. She didn't deserve that XD. Was Emma being rude as hell? Absolutely. Was it the worst thing ever? Nah.

2. "You're dressing like an idiot."

This moment is from season three's "U Got the Look" (3x03). In one scene, Emma is being supportive of Manny's change in her image, and in the next scene, she tells her friend that she's "dressing like an idiot". While it seems like Emma is talking out of both sides of her mouth, what's missing, however, is the context. Manny is trying to impress Sully, her current crush, and after her conversation with Paige, she was convinced that the only way to get boy attention was to alter her image to a more revealing style of wardrobe. Emma responded positively to it because it hadn't gotten to Manny's head at first. Then Manny seemed to be stringing J.T. along, doing a test trial on her new image to see if it would work on her actual crush, not realizing that J.T. was taking a genuine interest in her, and that he was hurt by Sully shooing him off. In addition to that, the principal had advised her about the dress code and how she wasn't allowed to have her undergarments visible over her clothes, but instead of changing her outfit, she simply removed her underwear altogether. She was sporting low riders with no panties. Keep in mind that this girl is only supposed to be fourteen, and the actress herself was even younger! Emma was simply calling Manny out for her inflated sense of self. In my opinion, Emma was not being a bad friend here: she was being honest with her.

3. Frappes & Paige > Manny & Liberty

This is from the episode "Mercy Street". Paige invites Emma to hang out with the grade elevens at The Dot after Emma tells Paige that she can organize a protest to drive Rick out of the school. I have an entire essay series dedicated to this topic, so if you want to read about my takes on the Rick content, start there. Here, we're looking at Emma's remark to Manny and Liberty as she walked past them in the girl's bathroom. "Gotta go sip a frappe with Paige. Have fun in your hot tub." Again, context is key. Manny and Liberty have iced Emma out since Emma was being unkind to Liberty again in the episode "King of Pain" (4x03). Basically Emma broke up with Chris, and Liberty took an interest in him, but Emma thought that by Chris dating Liberty after Emma, Emma would somehow look bad. Manny told Liberty about it, and Liberty told Emma off as a result. As a way of getting back at them, Emma gloats about being able to hang out with the cool kids in an unsolicited comment. It was totally unnecessary, but at worst it's a scoff and an eye roll. Sadly, this moment in the girl's bathroom is not enough to give her a prison sentence.

4. "Next time can we try asking before trespassing?"

Can you believe that little twelve-year-old Emma was talking to her mom like that? This was funny to me. Emma's mom, Spike, and Kaitlyn are using the computer in Emma's room, and Emma, clearly a grown up lady in the seventh grade, does not approve. This is from the series premiere of The Next Generation "Mother and Child Reunion" (1x01). I don't have much to say here: Emma was being a typical rude twelve-year-old who was out of pocket with her mom, but Spike quickly took care of it by basically telling her not to be rude. The end, lol.

5. "You're wrong. I don't care, Sean."

I'll just come out and say it: this moment doesn't belong in the video XD. This is taken from "Here Comes Your Man Part 2" (6x02). Sean had just committed a hit and run and was looking to find refuge at Emma's place. Emma wasn't going to protect him from the law after committing such a serious crime, and Sean wound up being turned into the cops after what happened. She made the right call here. Sean needed to take responsibility for his actions and to stop running away from them. Keep in mind that Emma, even though she had made out with Sean, was in a relationship with Peter, though they were currently on a break. We know Peter is not quality boyfriend material and frames Sean by planting drugs in his locker, causing his expulsion from Degrassi. This is a moment that infuriates me still, which I'm sure those of you fans can also relate to. The fact still remains that the decision to street race was also Sean's, not just Peter's, and it was a stupid one. This was intense to watch, but I was proud of Emma for standing her ground here. This moment doesn't come close to the other shady things she's done.

6. Emma Trips Rick at The Dot

Again, I'm focusing on the Emma side of this scenario. I have ten other posts dedicated to Rick, so read those if you want to learn about my takes on him. This moment is from the episode "Mercy Street" (4x04). Quick context: Emma created a protest to try and pressure Rick out of the school; Rick approached her later in the hall to try and donate over five hundred dollars to the cause in hopes of being forgiven; his donation is ultimately rejected by Alex; Alex then tells Paige of the moment in the hall, causing Paige to accuse Emma of feeling sorry for Rick. In order to prove to Paige that she was on her side, Emma ignores Rick as he's greeting her at The Dot, then goes on trip him as he's holding a coffee cup, causing him to fall and spill hot coffee over himself. This was absolutely a douche move, but I wouldn't say that this was her worst moment, even if Rick wasn't causing any trouble during this scene. It all boils down to the fact that Rick had been a terrible person in the past, and everyone was making him pay for his actions as a result. Karma!

7. Who Was There for Emma in the Hospital?

This moment combines scenes from episodes "True Colors" (6x03) and "Our Lips Are Sealed Part 2" (5x16). As a side note, the two-part episode covering Emma's E.D. is so heavy to watch, especially considering that the actress, Miriam McDonald, and her sister were suffering/had suffered from eating disorders in real life. From episode 6x03, Emma says to Manny at the masquerade dance that she shouldn't care about Sean's imprisonment the way she does when it was Peter who was there for her during her darkest time. Then we cut to the scene in "Our Lips Are Sealed" showing Manny beside Emma's hospital bed. This was tastefully done, I must admit, and I know that the YouTuber was being humorous here, but if Emma was hospitalized for having a panic attack brought on by her not eating, it's safe to say she stayed in the hospital at least a few days. That's a long enough time frame to assume that Peter had come in and visited her to support her. We as the viewers just didn't see this moment. Also, as the name "True Colors" suggests, this is the episode where Emma learns the truth about the drugs found in Sean's locker and how fans find it distasteful that Emma would be with Peter after everything he did to her best friend Manny. We're still not discussing until later.

8. But What will they Think of her?

Ah, a classic from the episode "King of Pain" (4x03). If we're thinking of Emma's worst moments, this one is near the top. In old fashioned mean girl behavior, Emma tries to interfere between Chris and Liberty's flirting with each other. Her reasoning is that people won't think highly of her if Chris started dating Liberty after Emma. The implication being that Liberty is an upgrade from Emma--a thought that mortifies our Mary Sue of the franchise. "You wouldn't be [embarrassed]?" Emma would go on to say to Manny. "What are people gonna think of me if Chris goes out with Liberty next?" Yowch. What did Liberty ever do to you, Em? I'll answer that: nothing! This marked the beginning of Emma's mean girl era, and what a time it was. She was definitely a jerk here, no questions asked.

9. "He Does Go For 'Girls Like That'"

Moment from the episode "Venus Part 1" (5x01). This was directed at Manny and not in a flattering way. While it wasn't Emma who said it, she was hanging out with the girl who did, and she did NOTHING to stand up for her friend. Emma Nelson, the girl with a strong moral compass, who has a backbone, just stood there and let her best friend be insulted like that? All because she was intimidated by the idea that her crush, Peter, liked Manny better at the time? Noticing a common theme here? I don't have much to say here, since it's a no brainer that Emma was the jerk by being the bystander and letting her friend get put down, especially since she is written to be the one to stand up for what's right. Emma let Manny down here. Now after that moment, Emma does ask if Manny was okay "Manny, what is going on? Have you been crying?", so it isn't like she walked away from Manny after she let her get insulted, but still. Not a good look for our little Blondie.

10. "I Asked Him, and He Said he Didn't do that!"

This clip is also from "True Colors" (6x03). Emma is talking about Peter and the drugs at this point. Sean is trying to tell Emma that Peter planted the drugs in his locker, yet Emma is having a hard time believing it. I get that she wants to think that the guy she's dating wouldn't be so slimy, and I would empathize with her if the guy she was with wasn't Peter, aka, the guy that leaked a video of her best friend's bosom all over the internet for the world to see. When it comes to this kid, Emma's brain leaves the building. At this moment with Sean, while she is being extremely naive, I wouldn't call her a jerk since she wasn't the one who planted drugs in Sean's locker, nor was she responsible for landing him in prison. It still doesn't make her look good, though.

To prevent this from becoming an extremely long post, I will stop at the two minute mark of the video. Of the ten moments I featured in this post, I only take issue with numbers two and five as I consider both these moments for Emma to be in character for her and standing up for what she believes in. For numbers seven and ten, Emma was being naive about Peter's nature, so they're not terrible moments from Emma, tho considering that she knows how Peter treated Manny makes her look shady. The others are fine for the topic of the video, though some moments are worse than others. That means that out of the ten clips we covered, Emma was a nuisance eighty percent of the time. So far not bad. More to come in the future.

[hobbyrebell]

Since I'm going insane from pointlessly arguing with braindead people and propagandists on here, I'm just gonna give my ten cents and leave this conversation, maybe even the site for a little.

I want Israel to stop murdering civilians.

It's as easy as that. Just stop.

All the defendants of the undeniable genocide I've argued with over the last days and weeks had very little of an excuse really, I believe that comes from them knowing that the sole and only reason for what is happening in !Palestine! and what Israel is doing there comes from their tora saying that it's their "promised land" and they have any right to own it.

Excuses were, for example, that Hamas started it; alright, even if, that doesn't make the murder of children and civilians less horrifying and doesn't say anything.

It was originally Israel and Palestinians are the settlers; what the fuck is your point here even if that was true?

And to the "promised land" thing:

We, as humans, are nothing more than a disease. A virus destroying our host we called earth. I, as many others, wish we could rise to be more, but I don't think we ever will surely are not right now. You religious people's fragile egos just can't handle the meaninglessness that is our existence, but it is the truth, sorry to tell you.

Religion is stupid and dangerous and if you still believe in your imaginary friend and what he promised to you, you are either too indoctrinated, too stupid or too narrow-minded to think outside of the box beaten into your head.

It's a relic of a past when people thought the sun was circling the earth and thunder was the wrath of some superior being, that we are the center of everything, when in fact we are riding a tiny crumb of dust through a incomprehensibly large universe.

Before you cry out "antisemitism", I don't care what bedtime story your parents told you, I don't differentiate in "Jew", "Muslim" or "Christian", I just call it religious and I will still treat you like a human being and in no way different than any other person. Same goes for your place of birth by the way. Idgaf if you are from the US, Spain, Japan or the fuckin south pole and I surely don't care for your skin color.

Some of you people on the other hand treat people as subhuman or as someone who doesn't belong somewhere based on their religion or origin, since YOUR religion or YOUR leader says so, e.g. christian crusades, diverse acts of terror, the colonization of America or recently Russia or Israel.

That's where I draw the line and if you defend that, you are not only stupid, but unnecessarily supporting ruthless murder and I will stop treating you as a human being.

My opposition against Israel is not a thing about religion. They made it a thing about religion by painting the star on their flag and setting it equal to Judaism to make it easier to scream "antisemitism" towards any critic. It's about people being treated terribly and being killed for absolutely nothing while having no options to flee or surrender.

Nothing matters.

The universe doesn't even notice us in the slightest.

The earth still turns and it will keep rotating around the sun.

Those deaths mean nothing. Israel means nothing. Judaism means nothing. Humanity means nothing.

They are dying for absolutely nothing.

Just stop.

Not just Israel, but all wars, all unnecessary violence.

It's all pointless.

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts days 22, 23

From this prompt list. I set a goal of writing at least 150 words per day in 2024, which sounds pretty pathetic but if you take into account the fact that I haven’t written any fiction since 2019 it felt like a feasible target. And then somehow it turned into “I’m going to write a single interconnected story utilizing all of these prompts” which ?????, what can I say, I am incredibly foolish and there's no limit to my capacity for self-deceit. Anyway, the first draft is finished (at around 88k words) and I'll be unlocking posts here on tumblr as I edit.

read from the beginning here

Day 21 here

***

28. "Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now."

121. "I'd fuck you right here, right now, if I could."

***

Steph wasn't wrong. Tim really, really hated to apologize. Not because he saw it as losing face, or anything like that. It was because then he had to admit he fucked up, which might possibly mean he was a piece of shit. It just seemed like at some point he should be able to be the type of person who only caused harm because he meant to, and not because he hadn't slept in too long, like a cranky toddler.

But he was also not a chickenshit, so he suited up at home and left through one of the two concealed exits in the basement level as soon as he knew Damian would be on patrol. (And three nights in a row was a lot—he made a mental note to check the patrol rotation again when he returned home, because Tim wasn't the only one who needed sleep.)

He found Damian sitting on top of one of a huge stack of containers at the harbor, overlooking the ships being offloaded. Without trying to make the process soundless, Tim landed on the opposite end of the container. Damian's shoulders stiffened, but he didn't bother turning around.

Tim bit the inside of his lip, considering. He hadn't been able to work out the most appropriate method to begin this conversation despite all his brainstorming on the way over, so he'd finally decided he would just wing it. But now that the reality was staring him in the face—or determinedly giving him its back—he found himself nearly speechless.

Which was unacceptable. Right. When in doubt, dive in, and fix it later if it goes tits-up. (The part of his brain that offered constant commentary on his own thoughts gave the notion a hazy attribution to John Constantine, who was hardly a stellar example, but the principle was sound.)

Accordingly, he opted for the straightforward route. "I've come to apologize."

Damian gave a derisive tt but made no other acknowledgement.

"Would you mind taking your comm out for just a second? I'd prefer this not be accidentally shared with the entire crew."

He could tell Damian struggled with the concession, too angry to want to give an inch, but in the end discretion won out. He plucked the comm from his ear but kept his back turned. "Despite whatever Brown's inevitable gossipy meddling may have led you to believe, I do not require an apology."

Tim took a deep breath and paced a little closer, still keeping a prudent six feet between them. "I'm not here because of anything Steph said. I'm here because I fucked up and I need to make it right."

Damian snorted in contempt. "I assure you, there is no need. For me to accept such a thing would indicate you inflicted some sort of injury upon me. Which would imply you somehow developed skill and significance enough for that to occur. Which in turn is nonsense."

"Believe me, I'm well aware," Tim replied, and couldn't keep his tone from going dry as the desert. Damian's hands gave an inexplicable twitch at the words. "But be that as it may, we are still on the same team, and yesterday I acted like you were the enemy for no good reason. Yeah, you overstepped. But it was out of concern for my well-being and the safety of the family, so I should've been more understanding." He drummed one fist against his thigh, waiting for a response, but when none was forthcoming, braced himself and gave one more offering of vulnerability. "I was maybe still a little off-kilter from the dream. That one—ever since Insomnia fucked with my head, I've had the nightmare he gave me recur sometimes. Where it's not just Boomerang and my dad who die. It's most of us too. Except me. So I was definitely not at my best." A long pause, and still no sound. "I'm just gonna keep talking until you shut me up, but I'm pretty sure you're going to have to face me to do that, so . . ."

Damian's shoulders lowered the slightest bit. "Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now, and at least three of them don't involve turning around." He did give a quarter-turn, though. He wasn't looking at Tim, but his body was angled so Tim could at least see his profile. "They do mostly involve some sort of bloodshed, however."

"What a surprise. Not that I'm saying I don't deserve it." Tim dared to come within arm's reach. "I really am sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so angry and I said a lot of shit I didn't mean." He had turned off the white-outs on his domino, but Damian's were still firmly in place, so Tim couldn't tell which way he was looking. His ear was tilted toward Tim and he was clearly listening, and that would have to be enough to keep going. "You were right. I was being a baby."

Damian's chin dipped, and he angled his face away again. "Perhaps you were correct about some things as well. I regret not bringing up the issue with you instead of Father. And . . . other actions." Color crept up his cheeks.

Tim drew close enough to feel Damian's body heat radiating against what little skin he had exposed. A sudden sensory memory assailed him: leaning his face into the crook of Damian's neck, pressed together in a line from chest to dick. A wave of remembered arousal washed through him and left him aching with its recession. "If I made you regret we fucked, I'm ten times as sorry. You shouldn't have your memory of that ruined by me having been a jerk later."

Damian shrugged, a quick jerky motion entirely at odds with his usual grace. "I cannot argue with the final accusation you leveled at me."

Tim's mouth twisted as regret carved a hole in his chest. "Yes you can. You should. Don't agree with Temper-Tantruming Tim. He's an asshole and he only tells the worst part of the truth. I don't regret fucking you, Dami. I'm flattered you asked me. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Damian leaned toward him at the confession, every muscle betraying how badly he wanted to hear it. Tim suppressed a smile. He should have known praise would be his way in. "I'd fuck you right here, right now, if I could."

He reached out a cautious hand and grasped Damian's gauntleted fingers. Damian heaved a sigh of his own but didn't pull away. "I suppose you're aware that you could."

Tim couldn't stop himself from laughing aloud at that. "Fuck you right here? Yeah, if I want Oracle to take video and give notes on my performance." He reached up to tap the tiny depression on his domino that cleared Damian's white-outs.

Damian met his gaze straightforwardly, but it clearly cost him some effort. "Then perhaps you should do it where she can't see."

Tim pretended to consider, but it was a done deal as far as his dick was concerned. "You think so?" At Damian's firm nod, he grinned. "Better head back to my place after we're done, then."

Movement down at the harbor caught his eye. A group of men were creeping toward a particular container, hiding behind others as they went. "Hey, there's something going on. Wanna take a closer look together?"

"Naturally. I have not been standing here for my health. Let's go."

But before they did, Damian brought Tim's knuckles to his mouth, and Tim could've sworn he felt the burn of the kiss even through the Kevlar that separated their skin.

days twenty-four, twenty-five, and twenty-six here

[deafearsdiary]

Unrealistic Mannerisms

Being a hopeless romantic leaves too much room for my imagination to run wild. Maybe it was all of the TV or the movies that I grew up watching that paved the way for my blueprint of love. Or maybe it was when I discovered romance novels, and drowned in vivid details describing the love between two fictional characters. And I know that it's also just part of my DNA that makes me want to swoon desperately at anything that's connected to making my heart flutter. Whatever the reason, the end result is that it feeds my imagination.

Now, of course it's always ideal that the woman is emotional, and you expect her to gush at everything. To be open and straightforward with how she feels. To fall deeply for a man, and become seemingly psychotic because of how he makes her feel. We all know how the story goes, but I love to think of how a man is that way for a woman. Because it is less common. We don't usually get to witness the man in love. We don't get to witness the first stages of him losing his sanity for a woman, or how long it lasts. We don't see the things that set him off, or the stuff that makes him smile. The things that make his heart flutter. But, lucky for you I think about it all the time. I think about what a man falling in love would be like. Let me paint you a picture...

Their meeting was unintentional; coincidental. Let's say they are both friends of mutual friends, to keep it simple. You meet her and think, "damn, she's gorgeous". But you keep it cool. She smiles at you, and you try to ignore that strange feeling you get in your stomach. You're not usually like this, so you think it's nothing. Just another woman you're attracted to that you can bang and forget about. As your hangout continues, you're noticing more and more amazing things about her. Her laugh is cute and contagious. Her smile, also contagious but sexy as hell. You got close enough to her to think, "God, she smells amazing." She's a great conversationalist and you could listen to her talk for hours, just for an excuse to stare at those sexy ass lips. When you guys engage in conversation, you can't help but want to flirt with her. But she beats you to it. She teases and her questions are intriguing. She's witty, and obviously intelligent. "Lord, where have they been hiding this girl?", is what you think after you leave.

Days go by and you want to stop thinking about her, but you can't. You start thinking of the ways that you want to make love to her, but usually when these fantasies start, they end there. This time, they keep going. And suddenly, you're thinking of things to do on dates. Anything to hear her laugh again, see her smile. You do your best to get in touch with her and make yourself relevant in her life. All while trying to act cool. But you're anything but that when you're with her. She's so different from what you're used to, but you can't help but gush over her. She's makes you nervous. Makes you second guess yourself. You feel clumsy around her, and you've never been clumsy your whole life. You barely know her, but she makes you want to be the best man in the world for her. Time passes and it's still all about her. Even though your regular life had a rotation of girls, that rotation feels different now that she exists in your world. All of a sudden you're dissatisfied. So you can't help but focus on her.

You muster up courage to hang out with her. You take all of your guts to lean in for a kiss with her, and it's the best first kiss you've ever had. You can't stop thinking about it, about her. It replays over and over in your mind, and you get this feeling in your body that you've never experienced before. In your arms, hands, legs, stomach...heart. It's not normal for you for a girl to make you feel so out of your element. Usually your the catch. Able to forget about the girl right after you get your nut, but not this one. This one treats you differently. Where did she even come from, honestly?

For days after your first kiss you were confident she'd be on you like white on rice. Like they usually are. Calling you, texting you, "needing" to see you again. But not her. Wasn't it as amazing for her as it was for you? "Get it together, man!" is all you tell yourself for weeks, when you can't stop thinking about her. And then you give in and hit her up again. She sounds so breezy and beautiful on the phone you can't understand how she's holding it together so much better than you.

After months of it being just you two day in and day out, she finally asks you the big question. She uses the L word. The one your allergic to and too scared to even think about. Your first thought is "yes, of course I do", and it comes lightening quick. But that freaks you out. So you hesitate, but give an answer that's honest but not too honest. She didn't like your answer and you can tell it saddened her. Damn it, you messed up. She pulls back from you and that kills you. You don't understand why you can't just be upfront with her and completely blunt. You know that you want her to know that you're in love with her and have been probably since the first conversation you had with her. She's the most beautiful woman you've laid eyes on. Yeah you've seen some fine women, but something about all those other woman turned you off. But not her. Everything about her is right. Everything about her makes you feel giddy like a child and horny like a cat in heat. Her voice, her laugh, her eyes, her lips, her nose, that she thinks is too big but you find adorable. Her hair, man oh man, her hair. And don't even get started on her body. She's insecure about so much of it but you can't understand how, because it's magnificent. She has the type of figure that makes you want to look at her when she does any and everything. She has a walk that's confident and beautiful. She can make anything look good, and does on a daily basis.

Eventually, you caught onto the fact that she isn't the type of woman that will wait for you to grow up and be vulnerable for her. She wants to be with a man that is willing to do what you won't. That fuels a type of jealousy you didn't know was in you. A couple of times she tried to move on, but you wouldn't let that fly. You had to intimidate a couple of guys, and lie to a few more. You aren't proud of it, but you knew you couldn't lose her. And then, she gets away. She confessed her love but you couldn't put your pride to the side for this amazing love that has become your life. To her, she doesn't matter to you, so she went to someone that cared. It crushed you. You couldn't show it cause you knew you messed up bad. Even one "I told you so" would've made you lose it. Every single song that had to do with love reminded you of her. It got so bad you even talked to your mom about her. Trying to figure out what to do. You hope that she'll come back one day, and if she does, you vow to not let her slip through your fingers again. And then, after what seemed like a millenium, it happens.

The day that you thought would never come. She's a free agent, and by God, she's still got a thing for you. You have no idea how, because you know you messed up big time, but then you settle on, because she's amazing that's how. And she's your soul mate so that other douche bag would never make her happy the way you can. You guys get back to talking and after all of this time, she still can read you like a book. She still makes you nervous. She still gives you a type of happiness that is unmatched. So what do you do?

While you guys were apart you got yourself into a pretty serious entanglement. You sort of gave up on love and just let life handle you since she left, so now you're in a bit of a pickle. But she's free now, so what do you do?

You know that you still mess up here and there, but you also know three strikes and you're out. And you're on your second one, so what do you do? She won't deal with being mistreated. She knows she deserves queen treatment, and that's what you want to give her. You're afraid you can't change, but does that matter when your life is on the line? And then she opens up a window for you. You can't lie to yourself, you saw it coming. It seemed strange, and kind of all of a sudden, like how you guys met, but there were definitely signs.

She still makes you feel the way she always has. And did she get more beautiful? Is that even possible? This entanglement you're in is starting to look very 'neither here nor there', and you know that you would drive to the ends of the Earth or wrestle a bear for a ticket back to paradise. You know what you want. You even know how to get it. You have to figure out if you're ballsy enough. And by God, you just might be.

So, what are you going to do?

[twunkandhunkgpt]

How I Got a Girlfriend While Working Full Time (aka The Glow-Up Guide No One Asked For But Everyone Needs)

I’ve had a few DMs lately asking how I managed to get a girlfriend while working a 9–5 and trying to keep my life together. I’m 22 now, but let me take you back a few years.

At 17, I’d just started my office job. My skin was still recovering from GCSE stress, I had no clue how to flirt, and I was wearing the same three jumpers on rotation. Fast forward to now—I’ve got a solid routine, confidence, a decent gym body, and yes, a girlfriend. So here’s my Top 10 Guide to Getting a Girlfriend While Adulting, based entirely on my own glow-up journey.

⸻

1. Fix Your Routine, Fix Your Mind

When you’re working full-time, your free time becomes precious. I started waking up just 20 minutes earlier so I could shower properly, style my hair, and actually pick an outfit that didn’t look like it had been on my floor for two days. Looking put-together makes you feel put-together—and that confidence shows.

2. Gym Is Therapy

I started hitting the gym at 19. Not just to bulk up (though I won’t lie, seeing gains helped), but because it gave me structure and a sense of control. I went three times a week to start. My mood improved, I stood taller, and slowly, people noticed. Including her.

3. Upgrade Your Wardrobe Bit by Bit

I didn’t have loads of money, so I started small—good jeans, fitted tees, better shoes. Stuff that worked for both the office and casual drinks. Every payday, I’d swap one old item out for something that made me feel sharp. Looking good doesn’t mean dressing flashy—it means dressing like you know yourself.

4. Learn to Talk Like a Human

Working in an office helped me loads here. Talking to managers, clients, coworkers—over time, I learned how to carry myself in conversation. Eye contact. Listening properly. Joking without forcing it. That confidence carried over into dates too.

5. Do Interesting Things (Even If You’re Tired)

After work, I used to just crash. But I started saying yes to more—pub nights, weekend football, gym meetups, anything social. That gave me stories to tell and stuff to share that wasn’t just “work was long today.”

6. Keep Your Online Game Clean

I cleaned up my Instagram, deleted old cringe posts, made sure I looked like someone who had his act together (mostly). You don’t need to be an influencer, but a few decent pics, gym progress, and stuff you care about goes a long way.

7. Learn to Cook One Thing Well

Just one. For me, it was a decent pasta dish with chicken. Easy, tasty, and impressive when she eventually comes round. There’s something about a guy who can cook even one proper meal—it shows effort.

8. Don’t Chase, Level Up

I spent ages liking girls’ selfies and getting no replies. The second I stopped chasing and focused on levelling up me, things changed. I became the kind of guy they wanted to message first. It’s mad how that works.

9. Be the Guy Who’s Sorted, Not the One Who’s Complaining

Everyone’s tired. Everyone’s got stuff going on. But if you’re the guy who’s steady, who takes care of himself, who doesn’t make every convo about how stressed he is—that’s attractive. It shows emotional stability, and that’s rare.

10. Be Patient, but Intentional

I didn’t meet her in a rom-com way. It was slow—built over time, through chats after work, group hangouts, shared gym sessions. But I was intentional. I made it clear I was interested without being needy. And when the time was right, I asked her out. Scary, but worth it.