#kind of suggestive but at the same time not

[comicaurora]

You mentioned in a previous ask about Arcane that wanting to do something better can be a great motivator, but recently I've seen a lot of discussion about fanworks created out of "spite" like Spiderman Lotus or that Transformers fan film. Do you think these come from different feelings, leading to their end result, or that the motivation just needs to be handled carefully?

Ah, I see the confusion. When you have ideas for what a story could do, and then the story goes in a different direction and bypasses what you thought it would do, that can be an incredibly useful motivator for using that unused inspiration for telling your own story. Taking someone else's completed artwork and saying "move over, idiot, I'll show you how it's done" is a recipe for hubristic self-immolation.

Setting out to "fix" someone's work has to be approached very carefully. Artistic criticism is a complicated skill, but it isn't treated that way. Especially in the age of the internet, several wildly different things have been conflated under "criticism", and I think that's why spite-motivated "fixes" almost always end up tripping on their shoelaces and falling flat.

Art critique - "fixing" someone's work - is about figuring out how to make the art the most effective version of itself. Determine what it's going for, and make suggestions for how the artist could improve the execution of that goal. Clarify a confusing moment, change the score a little to be more emotionally impactful, break up the pacing with moments to breathe, tighten up the pacing to maintain the frantic vibes.

However, the broad perception of what art critique is has been bundled together with several other forms of criticism, including snarky reviews (a judgment of quality rendered after a work is completed and aimed at prospective audiences so they don't end up wasting their money), general knee-jerk mockery (it is easy and fun to score points off of other people's sincerity via a little casual bullying), critical analysis (taking apart how a story works to learn from it, a useful approach for other artists trying to improve their own skills) and, of course, fanfiction.

Ahh, fanfiction! If you don't like a story, you can just take the characters, setting, premise, worlbuilding, and the general shape of the plot - ignoring the fact that at this point you've borrowed about 80% of the work that went into building the original story already - and then you can just make the characters do what you wanted instead. If you think Spider-Man would be better if everyone was miserable and grieving a dead buddy the whole time, you can do that! Two hours of misery for everyone!

This approach is ostensibly trying to accomplish what art critique does - to make a better version of the story. But in practice, it's almost never interested in interrogating what the story was actually going for. In fact, it's actively scornful of what the story was going for. It doesn't take it apart to see what did work, it just says "I didn't like that and I could do better" and produces something trying not to be like the original it disliked.

I kind of think of it like this. If you ate a meal and you were like "there's not enough salt in this," you would not produce a better meal by focusing exclusively on loading it down with all the salt you could find, even if you were starting with all the same ingredients. Do you understand how they were put together to begin with? How the meat was brined, how the vegetables were cooked, what seasonings went where? Do you think all it needed to make it work was salt?

So you get fanworks that do indeed focus on the part that the fanartist thought was missing. You get Spider-Man Is A Sad Jerk For Two Hours. It accomplished what the fanartist wanted, but it fails in its true goal of being Like The Original But Better, because it never actually made the effort to understand what made the original tick. Why do people like Spider-Man in his other movies? Well, there's lots of reasons that work for different audiences - he's funny, he's good-hearted, he's graceful and well-choreographed, his fight scenes are fluid and exciting, his dynamic with the people of New York is lively and comedic, he's hapless and hurting but he always tries his best, he gets knocked down but he always gets back up-- there are many reasons to like these stories. But if all you can focus on is what you wanted them to add, you'll have a lot of trouble parsing out what functional elements you'll need to carry over into your fanfiction to not lose the core of what made it actually mostly work.

If all you focus on is accentuating the bits you wanted them to do without recognizing the parts that were working fine, you end up with a heaping plate of salt.

✨ as the ask states, this post is very specifically about spite-motivated "I can do it better than the writers" fanworks and not fanfiction in general ✨

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 30/12✨

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

@pandorainabox ha chiesto: Hope this isn't a dumb question,but do you plan to/already are posting the bio parents ah anywhere where it can be viewed all in one piece? With the between posts in tumblr,it gets confusing and I still don't quite know how to navigate it so I was curious if I could binge read it anywhere all in one clean read? (I constantly want to re-read it lmao,it brings me so much joy,its so damn cute!!) Anyway apologies for the random question!! I love your work,you're doing so good and I hope you have an absolutely wonderful rest of your day/night! Thank you so much for taking your time to read and respond if you do so!! 💚💚🌙

i mean… I THINK the masterpost is the easiest way to read it for now (and once you read one chapter you press “NEXT” at the end of it.)

if I would put it, let’s say, on Webtoon (which I can’t) it kind of would be the same thing. A list if chapters, when you click on one it opens the chapter with the 10-20 panels and then you click the “next” to go to the next one.

i don’t think putting all chapters from one part would be nice since it would be a super duper long list of panels (and the page would take a lot to load with so many medias) and one Part of the comic contains multiple arcs.

i’m open to suggestions though!

@robinpika ha chiesto: I was just wondering why is wukong kaiju form unstable? What inspired you to go that route

it was an headcanon of my of why we never see it in the show, even though it is present in JTTW AND war forms are… well normal in LMK, so I figured he must have a reason why he didn’t use it, considering it could have spare them a lot of trouble giving its power.

@imafluffycupcakey ha chiesto: I can't find the option to ask anonymously oof— Enyway this is Tumblr and that's what I'm here for. Ever made a design for a Red son and MK kid? From your AU I mean (ignoring every nature law for a second). Also, where did you got that name for MK from? Is something from Jurney to the west? Mainly thanks to your AU I am going to try and read that book (has more them a 1000 pages :') )

we all subconsciously agreed that the spicynoodle lovechild is Kai from lego ninjago and MK real name is his name in the chinese dub.

@avencaeheng ha chiesto: Can you reccomend any websites to watch lmk? 🙏

You can find MOST of the episodes on youtube. BUT you need also the specials to understand the story. If I link you a site in 2 weeks it will be down. The best is that you join the Lego Monkie Kid Fanspace discord. They have links to see the show and they update them every once in a while.

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Another silly headcanon <3 Since MK unlocked he’s monkey form he started teething like a baby monkey but… adult. I don’t know how baby monkey teethe but when dogs teethe they get a lot more bite-y and the bites hurt a lot more than before teething. I can imagineMK getting a lot more bitey with things, like chewing food longer then needed be and maybe when he’s play fighting with the baby monkeys he bites one and it chirps and Wukong is like: ! One of my children is in need! And he discovers MK is teething and does something idk yet. After having given my evidence… Do you think this would happen? Does MK have fangs in his human form like how some people draw him?

hi! I guess he did have a period in which he had a little teething.

no, his human form doesn’t have fangs, because his human form is just a kind of glamour/shapeshift. In the AU the monkey form became his normal form (since it always has been his original form to begin with)

toomanylegos ha chiesto: Hey, I just want to say I absolutely adore your ShadowPeach comic and the beautiful art with it. I went through nasal surgery on the 19th, and seeing an update from you really helped soothe my nerves about it, so thank you! I can't wait to see more updates throughout my recovery :D burry-penguin ha chiesto: As a spicynoodle shipper I love your work sm and what ur doing for this community KEEPING US FEED FOR DAYSSS!! 🔥🍜 🔥🍜 You’re so amazing and keep doing what you’re doing because you’re a damn good story teller and artist. You’ll go so far someday! You’ve helped put a smile on my face on my best and worst days just from seeing each new update and going absolutely fuckin feral over it and I thank you for that 🫶 imafluffycupcakey ha chiesto: Not really a ask. I would just like to say I inhaled your AU comic like a vacum cleaner in less them a day, also big fan of the art style. Anonimo ha chiesto: I'm recovering from a toxic relationship and the shadowpeach bio parents au is helping me think through everything ,, The love these monkies show me how relationships are supposed to make you feel good... thank u

turtlewearingclothes ha chiesto: Howdy! I just wanted to say thank you for making your amazing comic, and being the reason I got into Lego Monkie Kid. I've heard of the show, but I never watched it. Then I came across your comic like, 2-3 weeks ago? And after binging it, I decided to watch the show, and now I'm obsessed lol. Thank you!

AWWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE!!!♥️♥️♥️

@selfdestructivecat ha chiesto: Hey so I recently binged your LMK comic because I absolutely fell in love with your ISAT x COTL comic and knew anything you made would be amazing. I’ve never seen LMK though so I’m sure I lost some of the context (it was still so good though, I’m really rooting for everything to work out for the characters!) But I decided to give the actual series a try because of the comic! And here was where I planned on writing you a message after a few episodes to thank you for getting me into a new series, but… I’m on episode one. I only watched the intro. Dude. IM ABSOLUTELY HOOKED. THE ANIMATION! THE STYLE! THE CHARACTERS! I’m so so excited to watch more (which I’m gonna do now!) but thank you so much for bringing this series to my attention!!!

ahaha welcome to the club!, now you can enjoy both comics!

@therivergirl ha chiesto: I remember back in the beggining of eclipse arc you mentioned that Mac feels insecure about his body being part of the reason he's hesitant to take of his clothes even in front of Wukong and it being part of the reason (aside from basic decency) that Wukong looked away. And now in this part Mac appears butt-naked to help Wukong out, adding yet another layer of vulnerability...gah! (Maybe I should finally watch LMK because I feel I would be doubly obsessed with this comic then...)

For Mac being exposed was the last of his issues considering that what he was seeing was Wukong at his lowest and most naked. Now excuse me while I cry.

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: You probably know Chang’E’s story from LMK, but did you know there is a second version of her story that I like better? In the second version Chang’E and her husband(I forgot his name), are getting used to living as mortals after being kicked out of heaven. But someone hears of the immortal elixir they have and try to steel it while Chang’E’s husband is out hunting. After getting beat up a bit she decides to drink the elixir so the robber couldn’t get it. But she instead went to the moon so she could be closer to her lover. Her husband dies because he’s still mortal, and Chang’E is left be herself. I have silly little headcanon the day MK and the others went to the moon was her and her husband’s anniversary 🙃 Bye <3

AH. OK.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you think that wukong and macaque act like cats?

as in they would purr? I moslty think Wukong wants to cuddle and stroke his head on Mac neck like a cat, while Mac is that one cat that sometime is annoyed when people touch him but eventually let them do it.

Anonimo ha chiesto: ✨Hear me out :3✨ MK can hear the past. He heard the fight of of prentice and held his eye like he was getting hurt by Wukong and not Macaque. So now picture this: MK has a vision again, his this time it is about how the monk used the circlet on him :3

AHAH. NOW HE CAN’T SEE TANG THE SAME WAY AGAIN. FUCK.

Anonimo ha chiesto: When I first found your comic in your TikTok account, I thought it was something very silly... How very VERY wrong I was.(As I get shot 57 times.) I hope you are taking very good care of yourself because when I downloaded Tumblr to keep myself updated to your comics(which was somewhere around 13-16 December probably) there are a LOT of panels. I enjoyed the newest and most recent parts of the shadowpeach bio parent au and can't wait for the next!!! Don't work yourself to the bone too much! Remember to take mental and physical breaks.

AGHDMHSMFYS THANK YOU!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Are there others who flirt with MK ? He looks good, is very powerful and has a sunshine personality. I bet there are others who are interested in him

I guess there haven’t been any for NOW.

Anonimo ha chiesto: After reading the post about swk's circlet, I srsly want him to look at mk and say "oh, hey we're matching!" ... "OH SHIT WHY ARE WE'RE MATCHING?!"

NOOOOOO!!

@delightfulcupquakequeen ha chiesto: Hey there!!! Been awhile sincenI've written an ask, just wanted to send love and being greatful that you are doig this amazing AU!!!! Appreciating ever pannel you make and gosh dammit hitting me right in the korokoro!!!! Keep being your fabulous self!!! Until next time!

THANK YOUUUUU

@l1br4rycrypt1d ha chiesto: Feel free to ignore this if it's spoilers for the comic, but are we gonna get to see the Gold Star of Venus? Just curious, since you reblogged the meme post that mentioned him during the takeover

There will be a small space for them as well, yes.

@kaothedemon ha chiesto: Fun fact, while I doubt Pigsy has all of Zhu Bajie's powers, his ancestor did have a kaiju form, which he could use if he ate a fuckton I'm sure it's not gonna appear in the story, but the idea of Heaven having to deal with 3 Kaiju dads (+ theoretically a sworn uncle) is extremely funny to me (picture courtesy of OSP's latest JTTW episode cause even when I read the book there weren't any illustrations of this)

I SAW THAT!! Man now they must add it to the show. Yeah I don't think he has ALL of Zhu Bajie's powers (I don't think he would ever want to have them) but it would be interesting if it was a high stake situation

@roseltelle ha chiesto: I think Macaque would actually enjoy working/ volunteering at the playhouse specifically doing shadow plays. But he does regular plays as well. His favorite days are when classes of children come in for field trips. Wukong often paints the backdrops, scenery, and other items for plays. They both enjoy their hobbies.

Awwwww yeah I think Macaque would totally love that.

@lmk4ever ha chiesto: Can you imagine Wukong just being out of it after he distracted the celestials for too long in his war form?

I think that as soon as he sees Macaque again he immediately switch back and become behaved again.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: I think I know the answer but theoretically... Who's war form/kajiu is stronger Wukongs or Macaque's and how would it go? I don't know it started as a thought. Now I can't stop laughing.

Wukong's is stronger.

blbllblblblll ha chiesto: do you know the pronunciation of xiaotian? ive been stuck on how to say his name for so long 😭

I know that the "Qi" is pronunced "Chi" and I think "xiao" is pronunced the same as you would read it, while I THINK the "t" in "tian" is more of a mix between a t and a c/k? I aint chinese and the way I pronounce things or read them is probably different from u cause I'm italian.

eerieqloss ha chiesto: Okay question, is Wukong's war form bigger/taller than MK's?

it's taller.

@elliboom ha chiesto: I was wondering, will Erlang Shen ever appear in the Shadowpeach parent series? (And questa domanda la scrivo in italiano giusto per levarmi un’altra curiosità in futuro, preferisci che le domande vengono scritte solo in inglese o vanno bene anche in italiano? So che non ci sono molti italiani ad essere fan di LMK e JTTW, posso capire la scelta di scriverli solo in inglese per rispetto e far capire ai altri fan, e generalmente per scrivere le domande uso google translate, perché faccio pena con la grammatica inglese, mi scuso se in futuro farò domande con qualche errore 🥲🥲)

Si apparirà. Manda pure in italiano shalla ahah.

[seokmn]

pairing: joshua x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k words

warnings: mentions of drinking, brief moment of shirtless joshua, suggestive moment if you squint reaaally hard

joshua took a sip of his drink and pointed his index finger at you, “what do you think of me? no sugarcoating”. you also took a sip of your drink and gave him a small nod before speaking, “i think youre cool”

“seriously? cool? just ‘cool’?”

you shrugged your shoulders, “what else do you want me to say?”. joshua looked away and pouted, his voice was as quiet as a whisper, “i thought you were going to say a little bit more”

you rolled your eyes, “i think youre really polite and kind with people. hm… i dont like the way you always find a new song to obsess with and sing the same verse for days every single time, but at the same time, i love your voice, it gives people comfort. your voice is like a hug after a stressful day.” you took a long sip of your drink before continuing, “i also like when you smile and how your eyes disappear. let’s see… i like when you always try to reassure me that everythings fine when i mess something up and when you look at me when im looking at you and your dimples come out. oh and-“

“i think thats enough” joshua cut you off and chuckled. he shook his head slightly, finding funny how you started yapping about the things you like about him. that being a sign that you were starting to get tipsy. “if you keep going ill think i like me or something”

“okay, my turn now. look at me” you leaned forward, your chest glued to the table as you looked at joshua’s face intensely. joshua smiled a bit and leaned forward as well, looking at you. “‘kay, im looking”

“do you see someone looking back at you or do you see someone thats in love with you?” you asked, eyes narrowing as you tried to analyze his reaction. on the other side, joshua’s smile died and he suddenly got shy. he drank all of his drink in one sip and rubbed the back of his neck. “so… youre in love with me?”

you just nodded with an affiliative smile on your face, “yes. very much so”

joshua could feel his cheeks heating up. he stood up and walked towards you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and looked down at you, “im afraid youre getting drunk so i guess its time for us to leave, i dont want to keep saying things that you might regret about tomorrow.”

“but its your birthday and i just confessed to you… dont you feel the same?”

“maybe…” he chuckled, “ill only admit it when you tell me about your feelings while being sober. now lets go, ill take care of you”

you huffed, “fiiiine… but you know, that is so not fair!”

“its my birthday, so its fair if i say so and im telling you thats soo fair”

he paid for the drinks and food you two consumed and went back to his place with you. he let you sleep on his bed while he slept on the couch.

you could hear the birds chirping and feel the sun on your face. you slowly sat up, frowned and placed your hand on your head, feeling it hurt. “gosh…” you looked around and noticed the obvious, that wasnt your bedroom. panic was slowly starting to increase, but it died as soon as you heard a voice singing in the background. you knew that sweet voice too well. you were at joshua’s home.

you walked towards the voice and you found him shirtless and cooking. you blushed a little and cleared your throat to make your presence known, he turned around and looked at you, giving a smile that warmed your heart. “good morning, did you sleep well?”

“morning.. yea, i slept very well, but now my head is killing me” he chuckled, “that wont be a problem anymore” he said as he placed a bowl of hangover soup in front of you. you mumbled a thank you and started eating it, enjoying the taste.

“is it good?”

“ah, yes. its really good! you know what else would be good?” joshua raised his eyebrow, waiting for you to tell him. “a shirt”

the man laughed and smirked, “cmon, i know you love it. but okay, ill put on a shirt”. you watched him put on a white shirt, but you were with a puzzled expression on your face, why would he say that? was he only being extra or did you say something last night? “what you mean? i dont love it!”

“oh, so you dont remember about last night?” he had a cocky smile on his lips and your eyes widened. last night? what did you do or say last night? you looked at him with a blank expression for a few seconds, trying to process everything. once you thought you got it, you immediately gasped and placed your arms on your chest and on your lap, as if you were trying to hide your body.

joshua’s eyes widened as well and he shook his head, completely in panic. “no! its not what youre thinking!! i even slept on the couch!” he said as he pointed at the couch with some pillows and a blanket. you looked at the couch and let out a deep breath you didnt know you were holding.

“then why would you say such a thing?!” you looked at the soup and muttered while mixing it with the spoon, “saying like we did something…”

“so you dont remember what you asked me last night? whoa… you really cant drink alcohol”

“what i asked you…?” you tried your best to remember about the night before. a few memories started to come together and your jaw started to slowly drop as you remembered the stupid answers you gave to his questions and the even more stupid question you asked him. you hid your mouth with your hand and looked at joshua in complete shock.

“looks like someone remembers now” he said with a smirk on his face, crossing his arms as he leaned on the kitchen counter. “i-uh…”

“was it true or just drunk words?”

“why do you wanna know?” you raised your eyebrow. you were getting defensive because you didnt know what to answer. would he dump you? would your friendship with him be ruined because of your feelings?

joshua tilted his head and smiled gently, “i think i deserve to know, dont i?”. you scoffed while looking away before looking back at you, “maybe it was true, so what? huh? its not like im gonna chase you or try to make you fall in love with me or some shit like that!”

he just let out a calm sigh and took the bowl of soup away from you. “hey! if you dont feel the same just say it, you dont have to take my food away!”

“get your coat”

“woah-“ you scoffed, feeling offended, “youre kicking me out? is that it?”

“nope, im going to take you on a date. your feelings are reciprocated and as a late birthday gift we’ll be enjoying a really good time together. and who knows, maybe in three months you wont have to pretend to not like to see me shirtless anymore”

you rolled your eyes, not being able to hold back your smile. you grabbed your coat and ran to him, interlocking your arm with his. “that sounds good, i like it. and just to let you know, i never said i dont like to see you shirtless” he chuckled as he opened the front door, “i know. but its nice to tease you”

you playfully hit his arm and he laughed. “lets go?”

“lets go.”

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

I loved not again<333 would you think about making a part 2!?

IT TAKES A MESSAGE

a/n: I hope you like this part too!

jude bellingham x exgf!reader

warnings: okey this one has a (little bit of) angst.

summary: After months of holding strong, resisting the temptation of breaking the promise you two swore you’d keep, one hand gripping your phone, and other holding a glass of tequila, is just what you needed to silence the voice of reason. You told yourself not to press send, but the moment your thumb hovered over the screen, your resolve crumbled. And now, here he is, standing beside you so real that regret is nowhere to be found. You shouldn’t have sent that message, but maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you were meant to end up.

PART 1: NOT AGAIN

The music in the bar was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the sound of your own thoughts. The dim lights cast everything in a haze, but that didn’t help either. You swirled the drink in your hand—a cheap tequila you didn’t even like—staring into the amber liquid as if it held some kind of answer.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to go this way.

You had a date. A proper one. A guy from your coworker’s circle—smart, funny, attractive enough. He’d suggested dinner at a cozy little place uptown, and you’d agreed, hoping for another fresh start.

But when the time came, you couldn’t do it. You’d stood outside the restaurant for fifteen minutes, staring at the entrance, your heart pounding. The idea of smiling politely, of pretending to care about someone who wasn’t him, had made you chest ache in the worst way.

So, you walked away and felt like shit.

The cab dropped you off at a bar you’d never been to, somewhere far from home, far from familiarity. You told yourself you’d just have one drink. Maybe two. But as the hours passed and the alcohol dulled the edges of your misery, you found yourself slipping.

Your phone was heavy in your hand.

You shouldn’t. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t. For months, you’d kept your promise—no texts, no calls, no accidentally running into each other.

It had been a long time. Months. You’d blocked him everywhere, and he’d done the same. You hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard his voice. You should’ve been proud.

Instead, you felt hollow.

The tequila burned you throat as you took another sip, your finger hovering over his name in your contacts. You’d unblocked him just minutes ago, telling yourself it didn’t mean anything.

But it did.

And then you did the unthinkable.

“I hate you.”

Your thumb hit send before you could stop yourself.

The moment the message left your phone, panic set in. Your stomach twisted, your heart raced, and you cursed yourself under your breath.

What the hell were you thinking?

You stared at the screen, breath catching in your throat. Maybe he wouldn’t reply. Maybe he’d hadn’t blocked you or he had changed his number, or maybe he’d—

Your phone buzzed.

“What did I do now?”

Your breath caught. The sight of his name on your screen sent a jolt through your chest. The words stung with their casualness, as if no time had passed. You stared at the message, your heart pounding, your hands trembling. You could leave it. Ignore him. Pretend it never happened. But that wasn’t who you were.

“Existing. Leaving. Coming back.”

The three dots appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared.

“You drunk?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Tipsy wasn’t drunk. You wanted to throw your phone across the bar. Instead, you typed back:

“No.”

Another reply, almost instant.

“Where are you?”

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. The smarter version of yourself—the one who’d spent months trying to move on—screamed not to answer. But the other part of you, the one that had sent the first text, the one drowning in whiskey and regret, won out.

“Blue lights. Why?”

He left you on read and thirty minutes later, he walked into the bar. You didn’t look up immediately. You felt him before you saw him, even in the dim light, he was unmistakable—tall, sharp jaw, the leather jacket fitting perfectly... You hated how your pulse quickened.

He spotted you immediately, his dark eyes locking onto yours as he crossed the room, approaching you slowly, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. His dark curls were now longer than you remembered, he had a beard now, and the faint scruff on his jaw made him look rougher, more tired. Your stomach twisted, and you hated the flicker of relief that coursed through you.

“You look like shit,” he said, sliding onto the stool next to you. It was a lie, of course—a flimsy one at that. The sight of you, even in the light light of this rundown bar, hit him like a sucker punch. Months without you, and now here you were, disheveled but infuriatingly magnetic. His pulse quickened, and he shifted uncomfortably as the denim of his jeans grew uncomfortably tight.

“Wow. Thanks,” you muttered, staring into your glass. You didn’t look up, but the faintest twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed a flicker of amusement—or maybe irritation. It was hard to tell with you, and Jude hated how much he loved that about you.

The bartender gave him a questioning glance, but Jude held up a hand. “Just water,” he said, before turning back to you. “How many have you had?”

“I’m fine, Jude,” you snapped, hating how small his concern made you feel.

“Sure, you are,” he said, his tone softer now. “So, what’s this about?”

You looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. The truth sat heavy in your chest, too raw to voice.

“Don’t do that,” he said, leaning in slightly. “Don’t shut me out after summoning me like a bloody genie.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t summon you.”

“No? What would you call unblocking me to send that?” He gestured at your phone, his voice quieter, less biting.

“You had me unblocked too.” you tried to avoid his questioning, but he did not bite.

“What is going on, Y/N?”

The whiskey burned its way down your throat as you struggled to meet Jude’s gaze. His presence was suffocating and grounding all at once, the familiar pull of him as inescapable as gravity. He didn’t say a word as he reached over, his fingers brushing yours as he slid the glass from your hand. His movements were calm but firm, the unspoken message clear. You glared at him, but he didn’t flinch, setting the drink out of your reach with deliberate care.

Then, you took a deep breath, the words clawing at your throat, desperate to be spoken yet terrifying to release. You didn’t look at him as you said it.

“I had a date,” you admitted, the syllables falling like a fragile confession.

The air between you shifted instantly. Jude froze, his body going rigid as the words landed. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, his face schooled into a careful neutrality. But the tell was there—his jaw tightened just a fraction, and his fingers twitched, curling slightly against the counter as if trying to grasp something solid in the room.

“A date,” Jude blinked, his brows knitting together as the words sank in. The faintest flicker of something crossed his face—hurt, maybe anger—but he quickly masked it. “And you left him to come here?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I didn’t even make it inside. I just… couldn’t do it. It felt wrong.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter. The muscles in his shoulders tensed under his jacket, and you could tell he was biting back a hundred different responses.

Wrong. The word echoed in his mind, carving into him like glass. He didn’t want to care about what you’d done or who you’d almost been with, but the thought of you sitting across from some stranger, smiling in that way that made the world feel brighter, or laughing at someones stupid jokes, was unbearable.

“What do you want me to say to that?” he asked finally, his voice low and rough.

You shrugged, staring into your hands. “I don’t know. Nothing, maybe. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I hate that. I hate you for still being in my head.”

Jude exhaled sharply, running a hand through his curls. He wanted to say something cutting, something to push you away before you dug any deeper into the fragile balance he’d spent months trying to maintain. But he couldn’t.

Because the truth was, you’d never left his head either.

“You’re drunk,” he said finally, his tone gentler than before.

“I’m not drunk,” you shot back, your voice sharper now. “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. That’s why you’re here, texting me that you hate me instead of… what���s his name? The guy you were supposed to be with tonight?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

His voice was firm, but not harsh. There was something else there, hidden beneath his words—a need to understand, to place blame somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t on himself.

You shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’m not doing this, Jude.”

A charged silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. His hand brushed yours on the bar, a fleeting touch that sent shivers down your spine. His voice, when it came, was quieter.

“You deserve better than this,” he said, his words softer but no less piercing.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”

His lips twitched, almost into a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He studied you for another moment, as if debating whether to push further, before letting out a resigned sigh. “Come on,” he said, standing and holding out his hand. “Let’s get you home.”

You stared at his hand for a beat too long before taking it. His grip was warm, steadying, and you hated how it made you feel grounded.

The night air was crisp as you stepped out of the bar, the coolness biting against your flushed skin. Jude walked beside you, his hand hovering near your back but never quite touching. It was a strange kind of intimacy—protective, yet distant.

The cab he hailed arrived quickly. He opened the door for you, his hand brushing yours again as he guided you inside. He slid in next to you, his presence filling the small space.

You leaned back against the seat, your head buzzing not just from the alcohol but from the sheer weight of the evening. The silence between you was deafening, filled with words neither of you dared to say.

The driver glanced at you in the rearview mirror but didn’t comment. Jude gave your address, his voice low and steady, and the car lurched forward.

The streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. You caught yourself staring and quickly looked away, focusing on the city lights blurring past the window.

“You’re quiet,” he said, breaking the silence.

“I don’t have anything to say,” you replied, your tone sharper than intended.

“Since when?” His voice held a hint of amusement, but it was tempered by something softer, almost tender.

You didn’t answer, crossing your arms over your chest and sinking further into your seat.

When the cab pulled up in front of your building, Jude paid the driver without hesitation. You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you cold—firm, unyielding.

“Let’s get you inside,” he said, stepping out and waiting for you to follow.

The short walk to your door felt longer than it should have. You fumbled with your keys, your hands unsteady, and he reached out, gently guiding them into the lock. The small action made your chest ache, a reminder of how easily he could slip into the role of protector, of something more.

The door clicked open, and you stepped inside, the familiar scent of your apartment wrapping around you. Jude hesitated in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame as if he wasn’t sure he should follow.

“Are you coming in?” you asked, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

He didn’t answer right away, his dark eyes scanning your face. Then, with a sigh, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

The tension in the air was palpable as you set your purse on the counter and turned to face him. He stood near the door, his hands shoved into his pockets, watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

You turned to face him, suddenly unsure of what to say. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I know,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “But I’m not leaving you like this.”

The space between you felt smaller. The air felt warmer. And when you turned to face him, his eyes met yours with a mix of frustration and something softer, something that made your chest ache.

“Jude…”

His name slipped from your lips like a plea, and before you could stop yourself, you were closing the distance between you, your hands fisting in the leather of his jacket as you pressed your lips to his.

For a moment, he froze, his body stiff beneath your touch. Then his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer and the kiss deepened, your bodies pressing together, the heat between you building like a tidal wave. But, suddenly, his hands came up, caressing your arms till they gripped your shoulders firmly but gently as he pushed you back.

“No,” he said, his voice rough, breath uneven after the short kiss.

Your chest tightened, your lips missing the warmth of his. “You don’t want me anymore?”

His eyes darkened, his grip on your shoulders tightening slightly. “That’s not... Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” you asked, hating how your voice cracked.

“Because you’re upset. You’re tipsy. And you’re not thinking straight,” he said, his tone softer now. “And if we do this, you are not going to like it.”

“I always like it with you.”

His eyes softened for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. A small, suppressed smile tugged at the corner of his lips and a “Me too”. Instead, he let out a breath, his hands still resting on your shoulders, steady and grounding. “Y/N, I’m not going to let you regret this in the morning,” he replied softly, shaking his head slightly.

His words settled over you like a cold weight, and you hated how right he was.

“You should…, you should get some sleep,” he said, stepping toward the door.

“Jude?” you called, your voice barely above a whisper. He froze, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white. His shoulders stiffened, his heart thundering in his chest as he begged silently—prayed—that you wouldn’t say something to make this even harder.

“I hate you,” you said, and though the words spilled from your lips, they were hollow, stripped of the venom they once carried. Your smile followed, soft and heartbreakingly familiar, the kind that struck him like a blade, carving through the walls he so desperately tried to keep up. He felt his resolve shatter. You didn’t mean it. God, you didn’t mean it.

Slowly, he turned to face you, his gaze locking onto yours, raw and aching. He lingered, looking at every detail of your face, so he could sleep tonight. “I know,” he murmured, his voice trembling as his smile returned—a shadow of itself, fragile and fleeting. “I hate you too.”

And then, he left, closing the door behind him, carrying the weight of everything that was unsaid, but known.

[otaku553]

do you have any tips for thin (anime-style) lineart? I always tend to end up with much thicker lines unintentionally X-x

It depends a lot on what exactly you’d like to achieve, but my biggest recommendation would be to change brushes if your lines are naturally coming out too thick. Not just because of brush size, but because the kind of brush you use will change how you line things, technique-wise.

As an example I’ve tried lining a sketch using two different brushes here:

Though they’re both from the same sketch, in the first I used a thin brush with high stablization and almost no pressure sensitivity. As a result, I’m forced to line slightly slower, and it looks slightly stiff but achieves the sort of clean anime look you usually expect to see— almost no line breaks! This is the standard for anime I think because you have to have clean and closed line boundaries so that coloring and shading can go quickly.

On the other hand, on the right, I’ve used one I’m a bit more accustomed to, a round textured brush with a lot of pressure sensitivity. It’s also got lower stabilization, meaning I work quicker, my strokes are a lot more spontaneous, and you see a lot more natural variation in line width. That’s what I mean also by it depends on what you want to achieve— though this is also an anime style you wouldn’t find it as a screenshot anywhere because that line width variance would probably look really inconsistent in animation.

I als only switched to this round brush relatively recently, about half a year ago now??? Previously most of my lineart was done with a rectangular brush which also tended to yield thicker lineart than expected.

I would suggest playing around with different brush shapes and settings, especially in stabilization and pressure sensitivity, since I think those are often what affects my drawing style the most! You can do a similar exercise to this and try lining the same sketch multiple times with different brushes to test which feels best for you. Hope this helps!

[defectivevillain]

chatterbox

pairing: Deadpool/Reader

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: You get threatened at gunpoint, meet a vigilante clad in red spandex, and get a concussion all in the same day. At this point, it seems like the universe is spiting you.

word count: 1.7k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence, robbery, murder, etc; hospitals, suggestive remarks

You’re having a relatively uneventful day… until you find yourself being held at gunpoint in the nearby convenience store. You’re nothing more than an innocent bystander—you just wanted to buy some snacks before you left. It appears the universe had other plans for you, though. The robber—a guy dressed in all-black—yanks you towards him by the collar and holds a gun to your head, demanding the cashier hand him all the money in the register. For a moment, you’re terrified that they won’t give it to him. Then they snap out of it and shakily hand him the money. 

Somehow, that’s not enough for the intruder—as he proceeds to slam your head against the counter in frustration. You immediately feel a jarring pain searing through your temple and traveling down your face. Suddenly bolstered with a renewed fear for your life, you manage to stun him with a harsh elbow to the gut and escape his grip. Head spinning and heart racing, you run away from the register and duck down one of the aisles, frantically looking around for something that could help you survive this encounter. Unfortunately, the gas station is painfully small and the robber catches you quickly. You’re scrambling backwards through hazy vision as the guy points his gun at you… And you come to the unfortunate conclusion that this is it. You’re going to die here, in the candy aisle of this cramped and grimy store.   

It happens in a blur. There’s suddenly a katana impaled through the robber’s chest, making him drop his gun and fall to the floor as he gurgles in pain. The newcomer is wearing red and black spandex, with numerous weapons scattered across their form. Somehow, you’re on the ground now—your back to the wall as you stare at your savior in disbelief. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, sounding concerned. You stare at the man in shock, still struggling to process everything that just happened. You think the robber’s blood may be splattered across your face. And despite this new guy’s seemingly kind demeanor, you can’t bring yourself to trust him. Your adrenaline is still pumping, leaving you breathing hard and staring at him warily. “I know this is probably a lot, getting saved by a sexy vigilante and all.” You’re entirely unable to comprehend what he’s saying, through the ringing in your ears and throbbing in your temple. 

“Do you normally talk?” He continues, tilting his head curiously. “You need a throat lozenge? Just cough a few times, get the frogs out of your throat. Or maybe some water? Don’t sweat it, even I get shell-shocked sometimes. You should’ve seen me when I came across-”

“You talk a lot.” You interject before you can stop yourself. This guy’s constant rambling isn’t helping your growing headache. Not to mention, he’s speaking so fast that it’s impossible to comprehend what he’s saying. 

“Oh, so you can talk!” The man exclaims. “And wow, rude. I guess that means you’re fine, then.” He huffs, actually seeming a bit offended. You immediately feel guilty for the remark; you’re about to apologize when another bolt of pain runs through your forehead and down your cheekbone, breaking you from your thoughts. 

You wince and bring a hand to your aching head, frowning as you find blood splattered across your skin. “Need a hand?” The masked guy asks. You take his hand and allow him to pull you to your feet, surprised at how easy the feat seems to be for him. “Easy does it.” He warns, evidently noticing your unsteady footing. Your vision spins tauntingly around you as the walls of the store twist and morph in unnatural patterns. Something doesn’t feel right. You blink and suddenly your knees are crumpling under you. The last thing you see before your vision fades to black is a crimson blur. 

You wake to find yourself surrounded by nondescript beige walls. There’s something digging into your arm and you frown, reaching out in an attempt to remove it. You’re stopped by a nurse, who introduces themself and explains the situation. You’ve been unconscious for several hours now, on account of everything you experienced at the convenience store. You don’t have any serious injuries, aside from a concussion. 

As for the man who saved you… his identity remains a complete mystery. You attempt to ask the nursing staff, but they all seem to be just as confused as you are. They claim that the paramedics who arrived on the scene didn’t see anyone who matched his description: red and black suit, katanas… Safe to say, they think your head wound conjured up some mystery hero who saved you. But you know what—or more accurately, who—you saw. After all, your imagination isn’t that inventive or creative. You can vividly remember the gruesome sight of the katana piercing through the robber’s chest; and the rapid-fire sarcasm of the man who wielded it. 

As if summoned by your thoughts alone, you hear a familiar surprised voice. “You’re awake.”

“Jesus!” You instinctively hiss, your chest lurching as you look around the empty room. The heart monitor at your side is beeping like crazy. You have to squint in the dim lighting; then you catch a glimpse of a familiar crimson suit and your panic begins to subside. It’s the guy who saved you—he’s crouching in the window. Isn’t this room pretty high up? You frown. 

“Nope, just me,” he responds cheekily.

“I don’t even know who you are,” is somehow the first thing that falls from your lips. Perhaps you should’ve asked why he’s here… or how he got here. 

“I’m Deadpool, obviously,” he answers, breaking you from your thoughts. “Remember? The convenience store? I saved your ass; then you fainted into my arms. It was pretty embarrassing for you, but it made me look badass. So… thanks, I guess.”

“…What are you doing here?” You decide to ask, your voice slightly raspy. You cough a few times; in the blink of an eye, the guy is standing at your bedside and handing you a glass of water. You thank him and take a few sips, before he places it back on the nightstand. 

“Making sure you don’t snitch,” he says sincerely. “Snitches get stitches and end up in ditches. We clear?” You’re staring at him in disbelief, struggling to process everything that’s happening. The guy speaks almost inhumanly fast and it’s hard to keep up. 

“I won’t say anything.” It takes you a few moments to utter the words, your tongue feeling strangely thick in your mouth. The guy—Deadpool—looks relieved, his shoulders visibly relaxing. 

“Good.” He huffs, crossing his arms. 

“Also, I’m sorry,” you say. The vigilante stares at you in evident confusion. You’ve given up on trying to rationalize what’s happening, or the words that are coming out of your mouth. Blame it on the concussion. “For earlier.” You supplement. He had been kind enough to save you and inquire about your wellbeing… and you returned that kindness with an insult, and then promptly fainted in his arms. Embarrassing. 

“No prob.” He brushes you off. “I’m annoying, I get it. Not the first time it’s happened, won’t be the last.” And maybe you’re imagining things, but you swear you can hear the slightest hint of vulnerability in his voice.

“You’re not annoying,” you reassure him. “You saved my life. I just couldn’t really process anything you were saying.”

“Oh.” He remarks. You can’t discern his facial expression through his mask, but he sounds a bit surprised. “Oh! Okay then.”

A very awkward silence suffocates the room. “Thank you.” You hear yourself say. Because despite the absurdity of the situation and the man standing in front of you, you are truly grateful. “For… you know.” You struggle to say the words. 

Deadpool seems to understand regardless. “Don’t mention it,” he says easily. Then his tone turns more sincere. “Seriously, don’t.” He looks at you pointedly.

“I won’t,” you promise. “But thanks. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there. You’re… a pretty good guy.” And wow, you must’ve gotten hit harder than you thought. 

“God, how can you just say those things?” Deadpool mutters to himself, almost sounding embarrassed. Your suspicions are confirmed as you watch him awkwardly climb out the window, the movement far more stilted and clumsy than the previous stealth he’s displayed. He remains crouched in the frame, regarding you for a moment. “I’m glad you’re okay though. Just… let me know if you ever find trouble again. I’ll stab a bitch. Or several bitches. And I mean bitch in the gender neutral, non-misogynistic sense. Obviously. Okay, I really need to go now. See ya!” He blows you a kiss and promptly leans back as he dives out of the window. You stare in disbelief, admittedly a bit concerned for his safety. But judging from the fading sound of footsteps, he landed just fine. 

You suppress a laugh at his dramatic exit, before thinking back to what he just said. “Let me know if you find trouble again.” You appreciate the offer, and you can only hope you won’t have to use it. But… How are you supposed to find Deadpool, if something ever were to happen?

You muse on the thought as you stare at the open window, before sighing and pushing yourself to your feet. The effort is laborious and takes a bit longer than it should, but before long you’re able to walk over to the window and close it. On your way back to the bed, something on the nightstand catches your eye. It’s a card. You frown and grab it, opening it to find a simple message written in unmistakeable red ink: 

Get well soon! Signed,  Your Favorite Mercenary  PS: Here’s my number.  PSPS: Not in a weird way. Just in a friendly, heroic way. I mean, not heroic… I’m not a hero. And I know I said not in a weird way, but I also wouldn’t be opposed…?  Jesus, what am I saying? Right, contact me if you’re ever in trouble.  PSPSPS: Is “PSPS” a real acronym? Probably not. It sounds like something I’d say to a cat to get it to come closer. Anyways, bye! :P

You stare down at the card for several moments, before finding yourself laughing in disbelief. Moments later, you’re saving his phone number under a new contact named “DP⚔️” and smiling foolishly. 

Deadpool is quite the interesting guy, to say the least. You almost hope that, as time passes, you’ll get to know him better. Although, at the same time, you hope you don’t ever need to contact him for his work. But regardless, you’re overwhelmingly grateful to the talkative, sarcastic vigilante who saved you.

author's notes: I have a bad headache as I post this, which feels like poetic justice somehow. lol.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[postmoe]

Can you do a Yandere ZZZ men getting rejected. like the genshin version same reason that they just weren't their type and misunderstood. Also I saw this art about Seth older brother.

https://x.com/yougei_/status/1872198958057169238

omg pls if Seth's brother isn't something cool like that. They bring him up slightly in Harumasamasa story and I was so O.O tell me more.

Happy new year everyone! Welcome 01/01/2025!

Wise, Ben, Billy, Anton, Seth, Lycaon, Lighter, Harumasamasa - drugging, fighting, suggestive themes, I think i made it pretty gn so it could go either way, knocking out.

.

Wise:

It takes a lot of courage for someone introverted like him to speak up about his feelings. He goes through all the possible scenarios before even bringing this up, deciding that if he's going to be true than he will shoot his shot in person and not message you the dozens of deleted texts he had initially typed.

That's why when you say 'no', it's very disheartening but he's not all that scared about the consequences.

"The city is a terrible place, you know? Generic crime is the least of its worries, not when corruption is rampant in every security and business corporation that exists."

You're not really listening to his rambles, shoulders shaking as you cry through the gag in your mouth, saliva ripping down your chin. Your arms are tied tightly behind you, around the back of the chair you're sitting on and preventing you from moving freely. When Wise finally removes the blindfold from your eyes, the room around you is blurred by your constant tears. He has the generosity to wipe them for you, seeing your a concrete room with a few necessities. A bed in the corner, a small couch, a television with some movie tapes (nothing too scary), a small, wooden coffee table. You see a mini fridge ahead and the bottom of a staircase. There's no windows, though a mirror behind a plastic sheathe in front of you shows a room behind you with a toilet and possibly a shower.

Despite your spit coating your face and the hyperventilation through your nose, he tenderly cups your chin and kisses the corner of your mouth, almost shyly if it weren't for the heated glint in your eyes, "Humans can adjust to anything, with time. Don't worry, you know I'll always keep you safe, with or without your consent."

+-+-+-+-+

Billy:

"What do you mean?! It's because I'm a robot, isn't it? That's low, starlight, suuuper, suuuuuuper low."

You shake your head, smiling innocently with your hands up to indicate that that's not the case at all. "Billy, you're one of the most charming people I know-"

"- Then date me! C'mon, I promise I'll be the perfect partner for you. I'm your knight in shining armour, after all! Literally," he taps against his chest to make a 'ding ting!' sound.

You refuse the laugh that bubbles up, thinking back to all the times he has 'coincidentally' been there when you needed it most. "Yeah, about that... I wanted to talk to you..." How do you say this? 'Billy, be honest, have you been stalking me?' It is probably best to just be out with it, "Have you been following me, Billy? It's kind of weird that we keep running into each other all the time, especially whenever you seem to think I'm 'in danger'." Which could literally be you mis stepping and having him rush over to you in worry from seemingly nowhere.

As a robot, you'd think one of the better things he was capable at was lying. However, the animated nature of his gives him away too easily. He knows that all too well, deciding it was easier to just come out with the truth. Billy nervously rubs the back of his neck, "Ah, Anby said it would come across as creepy... But, you have to understand from my perspective, starlight! You're made of breakable materials. Flesh, bones, muscles, meat, it's all something that can be so easily taken advantage of."

With a sigh, you shake your head, hoping to get through to him since he obviously has the wrong idea about your species, "No, we're not that fragile. Humans-"

"-No, but, see, you are!" He's too into it now, grasping your wrist with little effort. You step back in shock, wincing at the pain, asking him to let go but he doesn't. Billy's voice is softer, the yellow lights of his eyes narrowing in on the pained expression your face so easily portrays, "I'm not even using a lot of pressure here. If you listen closely, you can hear the splitting of your bone. No, seriously! Put your ear to it," he holds up your wrist when you start to cry, looking around desperately for anyone nearby. It's late, not even a bangboo in sight.

With a loud 'snap!', your voice chokes and your crumple to your knees, except Billy doesn't let you fall to the ground. He picks you up in his arms and holds you to his cool, metal chest. He's cooing over you as you cry and cradle your wrist. You look up with such a hurtful expression, "W-Why did you do that? I need a hospital."

As if something clicks, he quickly changes mode and started fretting, holding you tighter, "Oh, shoot! Dammnit, starlight, why'd'ya make me do that? I didn't mean to go that far. Hah... Come on, let's get you home and fix you up. No more late night escapades, 'kay?"

+-+-+-+-+

Ben:

The guilt riding him when he takes you is immeasurable... He knows it's for the best. Statistically speaking, you're more likely to get hurt without him around to protect you. It's just unfortunate it had to go this route.

At the moment you were in a cage in the corner of his home office, shaking with anger and cold as he had stripped most of your clothes in punishment, your arms restrained behind your back and a blindfold to keep you more sensitive. He checks the time on the corner of his computer; it's only been 20 minutes.

Once you rejected him, he had seemed to take it in stride. It wasn't meant to be, sometimes you see a juicy fish just too late and miss it, he had to move on.

But he couldn't.

Your fiery attitude and boisterous laughter filled the calm void inside him. You are everything to him.

So one night, when he's walking down the street to clear his mind, he sees you getting off work late. When salmon travel upstream to go home, it's the bear's job to catch it. Or, something like that. With the way his mouth salivates and his body jitters in excitement, he can't help but compare you to a delicious meal, even if he doesn't want to devour you - in that sense.

Once you wake up, you fight, of course you do. He doesn't necessarily blame you for it, but, bad behaviour needs to be punished. It's when you tried to bite through his thick fur did he snap. Intentionally hurting someone is a no-go. Though, it is your first offence. Another ten or fifteen minutes and he'll let you out.

"I don't want to keep you trapped here forever. I'd like if we could go out together, too. We just need to be civil about this," he states, hoping to appeal to you with calm incitements.

Instead, you grit your chattering teeth and curse, "Fffff-uck yo-ou."

His shoulders sag, his frown deepening as he turns back to his monitor to continue working.

+-+-+-+-+

Anton:

He and his bro had spent countless hours rehearsing and none of the answers to come out were negative. So, how is it that you say anything but a resounding YES?

"I dunno," you say, shyly rubbing your arm as you avert your eyes, "I just always thought I was one of the guys. Whenever you introduced us it was always 'Anton and his two bros'."

His jaw goes slack as his brain catches up. It takes a moment of cogs turning and mathematical calculations as every moment he's ever 'friend-zone'd you comes flashing in his mind. Then, he bursts out laughing, his large hand coming to land on your shoulder, "Dude, no way! Okay, I can see where you might think that." In a completely different display of affection, one you haven't exactly experienced from a man like Anton, he runs his hand down your arm and catches your own hand in his, collecting your other as well to intertwine his fingers and hold you close. He swallows the lump in his throat, as though saying it a second time is harder than the first, - though in his defense, he and his bro had concluded that you would say yes after the first confession, this wasn't in the script. "I really do like you, (Y/n). A lot. I'd do anything for you."

Anton truly is one of the sweetest people you know. However, "I'm sorry, Anton. I think our lifestyles are just too different to begin with. But hey! I'll always be your bro!"

It's getting awkward, and you have to tug a few times before he lets go. With a small farewell, you turn on your heel to leave and give you both some time to think. He will be okay, Anton always bounces back, no problem!

Except, he doesn't. In another turn of events for someone like him, he zeroes in on a nerve near the back of your neck and hits it hard. Immediately, you collapse into his arms, unconscious.

The drill on his hip shifts from the adjustment he has to make to carry you, causing him to look down before averting his gaze with a guilty conscience, "What? Don't look at me like that, they were getting away! Besides," the smile of his is unparalleled as he stares at your sleeping face, "We just need to show them their place with us; they'll come around."

+-+-+-+-+-+

Seth:

He knows it's wrong, it's so wrong. The stalking. The lying. The manipulation. Saying something as, "Wow! What a coincidence, I didn't expect to see you here, (Y/n)." is enough to make his heart hurt with deceit. You deserve better, you deserve the word.

But you just won't listen.

You run down any empty alley to help someone who calls for help and have been scammed and attacked four times this month because of it. Yes, he knows he does it too, but, he has the skills to deal with it! It also means your money gets stolen easily and you're left with cup noodles every night for a week because you can't afford a proper meal. Not to mention your sleep schedule taking a toll because you refuse to close up shop if a customer is taking their time because you don't want to 'hurt their feelings'. Or what about that cat bite that struggled to heal because-

Seth takes a deep breath, calming his racing and distraught thoughts. His superior Zhu Yuan said it herself, "If someone I love kept putting themselves in danger, then I'd step in, no questions."

He's offered countless times to handle things, to get you to call him in any sort of emergency, and wishes so badly that you would accept his feelings rather than saying something stupid like you'd get in the way of his goals.

Why is he so scummy?

The sound of the lock to your shop is loud in the empty street. It's 11pm, you usually shut at 9 tonight. You're so tired and unconcerned that you don't even jump at his presence when you finally turn around. Your parted lips spread into a smile, tired eyes crinkling as you greet him, "Officer Seth! What a lovely surprise, are you out patrolling?" When you step forward, you notice that he's hunched in on himself, a prominent frown on his usually cheerful face, ears back and looking solemn. You come even closer, unaware of any possible signals he could be giving you to stay away, "Seth? Are you okay, what's happening?"

Instead of saying anything directly, he just walks forward until his body meets yours, collapsing into you for a hug. You let him melt in your embrace, hands coming up to rub his back gently and pet the soft tufts of his hair, murmuring how you're there for him. He has to stop his hand from shaking when he holds up the injection pen, calmly moving your hair away from your neck as though he was simply returning the favour of comfort. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into your skin, his own tired eyes closing to shut out the world, allowing it to be only him and you, "It'll only get worse if I do nothing, and it's already so bad now."

You don't have time to ask him what he means, the sudden pressure in your neck causing you to yelp. The sting comes after the shock, you try to pull away but he doesn't let you move, only continuing to squeeze you against him as your legs buckle and go numb. "Seth...?" You whisper his name, looking up with such a worried expression that he can't help but smile softly.

"No, dummy," he lifts you up when your arms go paralysed next, walking in the direction of his car, "You're supposed to scream for help when something happens."

Your lips wobble as you begin to cry, unsure of what your dear friend is planning by doing something like this. His car comes into view and you shift your head against his chest, voice weak, "Help."

"Shh," he hushes you, savouring your warmth in the quiet night, "It's too late for any of that now. You'll be safe with me."

For weeks he had been dealing with this dark, malicious substance oozing through his veins at the prospect of doing something so criminal. Now, though? Now, as he holds you and feels you and sees you in front of his, he feels like everything is suddenly right with the world. He must've been overthinking everything like usual.

+-+-+-+-+

Lycaon:

You shouldn't be so surprised to see that Lycaon has such a nice apartment. His job isn't exactly middle class and he rarely spends money outside of his fur upkeep products.

Still, as you sit the wet umbrella in its plastic sheath - curtesy of the building staff - next to the door way, you can't help but look around in awe. There's no a lot going on, a large lounge that has enough space for at least ten people, accompanied by a larger tv that is currently off. An open kitchen, hallways to the left and right, an upstairs with a balcony over half the floor plan.

And a lovely table and chairs by the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over the city of New Eridu, which was currently pouring with rain and being illuminated by lightning.

Lycaon was standing by the lovely table, placing down the teapot down after pouring two cups before turning to face you. In an unusual turn of events, he wasn't wearing his signature uniform which you have grown accustomed to seeing, instead, he was in a simple black, buttoned down shirt and long pants. He hadn't changed the patch and belts on his face, however, which he regards with a tender touch and explanation, "Apologies, I barely had time to change before you arrived. Even though I invited you over, it's unforgivable of me."

You purse you lips at him, walking towards the set-up and stating, "You said you had feelings for me and yet you still talk to me like I'm one of your clients."

The corners of his lips tick up in a dejected smile, "I suppose it's habitual at this point. Besides, I'm still a little unsure how to go about this."

He pulls out the chair for you to sit, your body resting in the comfortable cushion on the hard seat. It takes you a moment to realise that what you said probably wasn't the best call right now. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that... I was just trying to lighten the mood."

This time, his smile is a little more sincere, "Please, do not worry about it. Our previous meetings have been a tad awkward so I understand."

This relaxes you greatly, your shoulders sagging in relief. You turn your attention to the hard rain hitting the windowsill next to you, the home is warm but you're close enough for the cool air on the window to still hit you, "It's really coming down, huh?"

"Indeed," he agrees, not that he could really argue against it. Lycaon takes your cup and opens a small sugar bowl, taking a spoonful and stirring until it all dissolves, "I believe the forecast stated that it would be storming all week."

"I hope the outer circles are okay, they tend to flood easily," you mindlessly pray, accepting the teacup once he's placed it back on the saucer. You both enjoy a silence of words as you sip from your respective beverages, the rain soothing your mind.

Lycaon's ears flicker every-so-often to the sound of thunder, an endearing attribute to witness. You wonder if days like these would be common if you had said yes. It would be nice, but, you know now just isn't the right time for something like that.

Lycaon considers differently.

He clears his throat after a while, once you both had enjoyed a substantial amount of tea, "I must admit, my reasons for inviting you over are not quite... honourable."

You finally look away from the drowning city lights and to your friend, "What do you mean?"

He sets his palms in his lap and takes a deep breath, exhaling from his mouth to steady any unease, "I'm afraid I won't be allowing you to leave here, (Y/n). I've contemplated back and forth about my actions and decided that this was the most favourable outcome."

Confusion hits you before any sort of fear or anxiety, "Huh? Are you going to kill me?"

When Lycaon stiffens at that, you can't help but feel like your joke wasn't exactly off the mark. It's only until he shakes his head, almost exasperated, that you finally remember to breathe, "Goodness, no! I would never entertain such a thing. I merely mean that unless supervised by myself, you won't be leaving the premises."

You roll your eyes and play along, "Okay, so, do I have to find a hint to unlock the door? Is this a new thing for your business-" everything suddenly blurs and you double over in exhaustion. What the heck? It takes a moment to recover but when you do, you stand abruptly from the table, both hands steadying you as your body is overcome with unease, "Actually... I don't wan'na to play anymore..."

One step turns to two, and perhaps you get another half in before you're knees are collapsing beneath you and Lycaon is holding you up. He's kneeling, carefully monitoring your condition to make sure you go down as simply as the drug entices. He's talking calmly, saying something to soothe the process, perhaps, but you'll never know beyond the jumbled noise being muffled by your own hearing.

+-+-+-+-+

Lighter:

"You're not taking this seriously!" You shout at him, charging forward to get one good, hard punch to his cheek.

Lighter easily sidesteps you, grabbing a hold of your arm and twisting it backwards. You yelp in pain as he pins you down, finally doing something other than dodging your attacks, "Oh? Is that better or, do you want me to punish you more?"

His knee rubs suggestively between your thighs, your eyes tearing up in frustration as you thrash and kick. Mercifully, he retreats off of you and you you're quick to stand in another defensive position, "What is your problem?! If you're going to fight me than fight me properly!"

"I think you've forgotten that you're the one who issued this challenge," he pushes his sunglasses up his face nonchalantly, refusing to take them off despite the fact it's nighttime.

You growl and rush in to deliver a swift kick to his shin - which he artfully evades, "Only because you won't leave me alone! I'm fine by myself, I've always been fine by myself! I only ever started having troubles when you came into my life!"

He tuts and shakes his head, jumping back from another attack, "You know Big Daddy says it's not okay to tell porky pies. Little pigs like you who do get in big trouble for it."

That makes you falter, stepping back in bafflement and frankly a bit of discomfort, "What?"

Lighter is quick on his feet, stepping aside you, kicking out to trip up your ankle and catching you from behind. He spreads your legs with his own and holds your wrists behind your back, "If it weren't for me, nobody in the outer ring would look twice at you before robbing you blind and leaving your body dead in a ditch. Vulnerable city folk like you aren't exactly welcome here."

"Why go through all that trouble for someone like me, then?" You try to get out but this time, he isn't faltering, so you relinquish yourself for a moment of clarification, "If you guys hate me so much then why did you step in?"

"Because I like you. I really, fucking like you. And all I wanted was a bit of thanks and appreciation," he leans down to mumble in your ear, biting the lobe not all that gently. Again, you're pushed to the ground, his hips easily keeping you down without so much as breaking a sweat, "I win. Now, as per our agreement, this time you have to say, 'yes'."

+-+-+-+-+

Harumasamasa:

You're hands are shaking so badly that you can't hold a cup of liquid without spilling it. Your head is swimming with nausea and you seeing double of everything. How long had he been doing this without you knowing? Was this why your back didn't seem to ache the same way anymore, or your knees or your shoulders?

The door to your cell opens and you're greeted with the man himself. It's amazing how easy it is for people with power to abuse the system. "So, how're you feeling, honey? Changed your mind yet?"

"Y-You're a monster," you spit, stuttering not because you're scared or cold, but because your teeth won't stop chattering from withdrawals.

Harumasa laughs, closing the cell behind him and crouching down so he's at the height of your quivering body on the bench, "Awh, I never claimed to be a good guy! But, I wouldn't go as far as say 'monster.' Still," he reaches out and gently tucks back some of your hair, "In this scenario, you might not be wrong."

You jut your head back, smacking the brick wall with the back of your skull, 'thud!', "Fuck off."

"Oof," he winces, eyes cringing, "That had'ta hurt. C'mon, baby, just say yes and I can make all this disappear."

You're swaying from lack of balance, gods you think you might throw up, "Can't you find someone else to force your love onto?"

He stands abruptly and the motion makes you fall back, only being supported by the construction that was now the cause in your skull, "Nope! I want you. I have since I started dosing you with these." He pulls out a baggie of colourful tablets, his medication for his rare affliction. Sighing wistfully, he cradles the rainbow meds against his cheek, "If it weren't for these bad boys than I wouldn't have been able to get you do addicted to me. No one else can help you now, honey. I'm all you've got."

"Someone will come," you wish under your breath, body falling forward while you clutch your stomach in pain, "Someone will notice."

Harumasa purses his lips at you, humming in thought. With a defeated moan, he pockets the medication and stretches his arms above his head, "Welp, let's see how strong your will is after another day in the cell." Striding to one corner of the room, he grabs the little, plastic rubbish bin and brings it between your legs, "Here, you're gonna need this. The next 24 hours will not be fun for you."

You only notice he's gone when the shutting door echoes through the room, too lost in trying to keep your withdrawing body from keeling over.

[queenvhagar]

Does questioning why someone would record the chosen king as a rapist in the history books disprove the claim that Aegon wasn’t a rapist in Fire & Blood?

May I also ask how you would respond to the question: ‘Why would you side with King Aegon, a rapist?’

"Even though none of the sources in the book say he did it, I'm going to headcanon that he probably did in fact do it, and every single person in history worked together to hide this fact because he was king briefly before being poisoned and this story being written. This fundamentally redefines his whole character in my mind and should also in yours, and this characterization I ascribed discredits the entire Green cause."

Some next level gymnastics of trying to hate on a character 🤸🏼‍♀️ 🏆

Breaking down the sources by the way just one more time regarding Aegon:

Septon Eustace, sympathetic towards royalty in general but more favorable to the Greens, present in KL at the time: Aegon had a cared-for paramour

(likely Green biased)

Mushroom, Rhaenyra's court jester, favorable to the Blacks, tending to tell outrageously unbelievable and sexual stories to entertain his audience, who had been on Dragonstone for years preceding this point: Aegon likes child fighting pits and little girls

(likely Black biased)

Grand Maester Munkun, Hand of the King to Rhaenyra son Aegon III, who came to court during the Hour of the Wolf: Aegon was at his revels on the Street of Silk, known area of wine sinks, brothels, and pleasure houses (similar to Daemon's and other Targaryen men's previous solicitations of the street in their youth)

(he wasn't there, but the account doesn't necessarily sway either way in terms of bias, likely a deliberate decision to placate the post-war court, but if anything, he would be more sympathetic to the Blacks as Rhaenyra's son now ruled)

Given the three sources, if any of these stories are accurate, it would be Munkun's account.

Regarding how he was characterized before this moment, Aegon is described by sources as being interested in women at court and prone to fondling serving women. Obviously by modern stories this in inappropriate and considered sexual harassment. In the ASOIAF universe unfortunately this is not some extreme outlier behavior that indicates willingness to commit sexual violence towards women. In ASOIAF, there are various characters who fit a type of a Westerosi man who enjoys sexual encounters with women, including prostitutes, serving girls, and common folk. Robert Baratheon and Theon Greyjoy are two such characters who are described in this way. While this aspect of their characterization doesn't a send a very positive message about who these characters are and is generally seen as a flaw, it's considered overall acceptable behavior in Westeros and is described as such in the source material. These characters aren't considered particularly evil or deviant for being given these traits. It's quite a far step, then, to say that all the men described in this way in the book are automatically rapists, especially when there is no explicit evidence indicating such violence occurred. Like sure, you could headcanon scenarios where these characters are capable of that kind of thing, but in the text there is zero indication of this.

The same is true of how Aegon II is described and characterized. You could headcanon that he was capable of something like that, and you could rely on the show's account which solely accepts Rhaenyra's fool's heightened, hyper-sexualized/perverted version of the event that he made up despite being away from the city for years at this point. But textually there is little reliable information to suggest that Aegon is an outright violent rapist and abuser of women. This is why many reject the show's characterization of Aegon and are able to not only support him and have sympathy for his character but also support the Green cause and/or oppose the Black cause.

And I honestly doubt that GRRM would have purposely set out to have one side of his Targaryen civil war led by a violent rapist, since it would distract from his real intentions with the Dance: portraying a morally gray anti-war story of a family destroying itself, lead by two ideologically opposed factions. Making one side obviously good and the other obviously evil goes against his whole system of creating characters and contradicts what he's said about his stories in the past. He would not have the Greens figure-headed by a violent rapist, as he knew that would tilt the scales in favor of Team Black and encourage side-choosing, which would erase the moral ambiguity of the conflict and lessen its intrigue. As Shireen said about the Dance, it was the choosing of sides that was bad. That was kind of GRRM's point. Neither side was entirely correct or wrong, and both were responsible for tragedy and death. He was intentional in creating his sides, the characters, and the motivations they had for doing what they did.

[gyllenhaalstories]

FOOL — RUSTY SABICH 🍷

summary: rusty has a very normal and appropriate reaction to your selfie.

warnings: food & alcohol, reader is drunk, cheating, fade to black/brief smut (masturbation). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2100

gif credit: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/saradika-graphics

notes: (not so) quick little quickie that was inspired by @sizzlingcloudmentality's comment on this post. this is a continuation of FETISH, i suggest reading it first to understand the dynamic of this fic. i really wanted to write 15 fics this year, so you guys can have whatever this is happy new year <3 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

Rusty ate out at the bar, that night. He was not in any state to go home.

He made up some excuse about needing documents from the office to finalize a case. Half a truth, he had work that needed to be done. Half a lie, he needed to get things off his mind.

The holiday schedule kept Rusty booked and busy. One second he drove the kids to visit relatives, on the next he was cooking up a storm in the kitchen and, in between all of that, Barbara reminded him of the countless things he pushed off his to-do list during the whole year. He needed to change a light bulb or two, he needed to move a piece of furniture, he needed to fix the chain of his son's bike before springtime. There was also a long list of conversation topics Barbara pressed him to address without walking out of the bathroom and shutting her out.

It felt as though he laid to bed with more worries now than during the rest of the year. Rusty was desperate for a break. So, he went to the bar.

He ordered a drink and some food that he barely touched. He preferred to toy with his glass and to watch the ice cubes follow the ripples of the amber liquid.

The phone vibrated in a frenzy, he received a series of messages.

The messages came from you. You were texting him.

Since you had started working at a different firm, all thanks to Raymond Horgan's impressive network of connections, you kept in touch with your former colleague. Upon your departure, Rusty had insisted time and time again that you could reach out to him whenever you needed help. You exchanged emails every now and then in the search of advice about your job. You shared text messages about the length of the queue at the coffee shop Rusty and you frequented. Friendly, helpful, appropriate.

Rusty was proud of himself. He thought about you a lot less, since you quit to work somewhere else. The quick and easy interactions with you kept him going, they fed him enough crumbs to avoid going hungry for more. He managed his impatience fairly well while waiting for the next time you would reach out. You did not have the habit of making him wait too long. That was before the holiday break, anyway. He understood you were busy on most days, on most nights too.

It was a different kind of busy, that night. You attended a work party with your colleagues. The second to last day of the year turned out to be the only moment everyone had available in their schedules. So, you found yourself at a bar you never frequented, with people you did not hang out much outside of work.

Rusty unlocked his phone and checked the first photo you sent him: an array of fancy liquors and spirits. He recognized a brand or two.

"Can you believe Raymond sent all that? It came in a giant box. I'm sure that all these bottles are worth more than a month of salary." You sent the explanation after the pictures.

No wonder why Rusty recognized the labels, it made sense now. He quickly replied that good old Raymond definitely felt generous when he ordered the assortment to, once again, thank your superiors for hiring you.

A few minutes later, he received another message. You told him you tried one of the bourbons, it did not taste worth the elegant gold foil of the label. After that, you sent a photo of the glass of wine you held up along with a handful of your colleagues who did the same. You commented that only the people from your work occupied the bar, that a couple walked in and left when they realized that a party was happening.

Rusty did not know why you felt compelled to share all of the little details of your evening. You granted him with a chance to witness a side of you he had never seen. He would be a fool to tell you to stop.

You were too tipsy to think of your behaviour as annoying. You enjoyed having an excuse to be on your phone for a little while and listen to the office gossip rather than participate in it. You learned a whole lot about the guy a worked in HR, not that you would remember much about this story tomorrow morning.

You stayed silent for a moment, twelve minutes to be exact. Not that Rusty was counting... He was. He had typed several messages that he erased before sending. He had a tendency to be insisting, he wanted to avoid scaring you off. He did not want this moment to end.

You took a few more photos: of the menu and the funky cocktail names, of the tacky paper umbrella that hung off your friend's drink, of the neon blue liquid you received after you ordered something else. You had accidentally flipped the camera and, low and behold, you liked the lighting. You suggested to take photos of the people around you. Everyone squeezed close and showed you funny faces and pretty grins. Then, you took a selfie. You dragged your fingertip on the screen, attempting to send the photograph of the blue cocktail you had been sipping.

Rusty's entire body buzzed when he felt his phone vibrate again. Finally, you replied. He opened the picture you sent him. Your eyes sparkled, your smile beamed. Maybe it was the brightness of his phone that adjusted itself, or it was your beauty that shined through. He could not tell, he wanted to believe it was the latter.

You realized, too late, that you had sent the wrong picture. You tried to justify yourself, but instead you watched the text bubbles dance.

Rusty felt his cock twitch at the sight of your face. He shifted on the bar stool to spread his legs a bit more. He looked at the photo again, with a sigh and furrowed brows. It seemed as though the vein on his temple pulsated. His restraint melted away like the ice cubes in his glass. "You're amazing."

You read the message. Confusion painted the features of your face. You did not dislike the unexpected compliment, but it remained exactly that: unexpected. Perhaps he had too much to drink too, just like you. You did not ponder any longer about it.

"You look like you're having fun." Rusty sent another message after you left him on read.

You responded that you had a good time so far. "Are you having fun too?"

It was Rusty's turn to leave you without an answer. He chugged the last sip from his glass, then he paid for the steak and roasted vegetables that he picked at all evening long. He gave the bartender no time for Happy New Year wishes, Rusty jumped off the stool and grabbed his coat.

You had put your phone back in your purse, thinking it was the end of your conversation with Rusty.

Little did you know he basically ran to his car, unbothered by the cold and humid air of the night. He slammed the door shut, adjusting the car seat to give himself more space. Rusty pulled out his phone that he held in one hand, while the other expertly unbuckled his belt. The noise of the zipper going down blended with the swoop of the notification from his next message. "I'm having fun too." He opened your selfie, groaning with relief when he palmed at his bulge. It gave him a sense of déjà vu, to touch himself because of you. Except that, this time, he would not only think of you — he would admire the beautiful features of your face that had showed up one too many times in his fantasies.

*~*~*

Rusty got startled with the loud sound of his phone ringing. He furrowed his brows when he read the name of the caller, instinctively answering and putting his phone on speaker. He noticed something on the screen. "Fuck." He cursed at himself.

"Well, hello to you too." You answered before he could say anything else, grimacing at his attitude. You did not understand why he threw such bitterness at you, Rusty had been nothing but pleasant all evening. You squeezed your phone between your cheek and your shoulder while you tried to fix your scarf and jacket. "Am I calling at a bad time?"

Rusty's heart started to race. "No, no, you're good." He answered, his voice sounded strained for a moment when he reached for the glove compartment and pulled out the package of cleaning wipes. "It's all good."

You shrugged. You did not care much anyway. "Do you remember when you said you could help me with whatever I need?"

Rusty's ears perked up at the way you slurred your words, clearly you had more to drink than just the one glass of wine you showed in your photo. "Uh huh." He cleared his throat, pulling out a wipe. He started vigorously cleaning the steering wheel.

"Sooooo..." You dragged out the word, taking a look around. The street felt eerie and empty, it was so unusual for the city. "Wanna give me a ride?"

The bluntness of your question took him by surprise. He folded the wipe neatly, then he used it to scrub the screen of his phone. The frenetic motions managed to switch the screen to what it previously displayed. Now, Rusty stared at the zoomed-in selfie you sent earlier. Drops of his cum covered your cheeks and your chin. You looked so perfect like that...

You filled the silence with unnecessary explanations. "You're cheaper than a taxi and you're much better company than Uber drivers." You hoped the flattery would work.

And it did, you stroked his ego just the way he liked it. He let out a shaky breath, soaking in what you said. You really did like him.

"I'm not bothering you, right?" You asked. Both Rusty and you were unsure if you played it coy intentionally or not. "I assumed you had time to spare tonight to hold on to your promise since, well, you know..." Surely, if he had been at home with his wife and kids he would not have texted you back so quickly every time.

Rusty wanted to blame your bold assumption on the alcohol, but he had a shadow of doubt that there was more to it. You guessed correctly, even worse, you did not seem to mind it too much. Perhaps the blame rested, again, on the intoxication. Still, something stirred inside of him. Desire renewed easily at the sound of your voice, at the implication that you needed him — that you chose him.

Your words hung in the air, the silence spoke for itself. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you began to feel cold. Your movements did not distract you from the noise you heard on the line. Rusty received a notification.

He pushed the notification away when he saw that the message came from his wife. "You're not bothering me at all, I'll pick you up. It's no problem." He blabbered. He pulled his shirt out of the pants, hoping to cover most of the reaction you gave him just by talking. Just by being so sweet to him. Just by showing him that he's on your mind too, albeit in different ways. "Where are you?"

You gave him the address while failing to hide the smile in your voice. Rusty commented that he was just a few blocks away, he would be there in five or ten minutes. "Great! That gives me plenty of time to order one more drink." You giggled, making your way back to the bar. You remembered that most of your friends and colleagues had already left, but that did not stop you from getting your favourite cocktail.

He reminded you to be careful, you blissfully ignored him so you could recite your order to the bartender.

"Oh, Rusty?" You realized you had not hung up the call yet. The music resonated loudly, but he could still hear your voice, as sweet as ever. "Thank you. I knew I wasn't a fool for believing that you would hold up to your offer." A little bit more ego stroking never hurt anybody.

And just like that, he made a sharp turn and sped up as the light turned red before his eyes. Rusty was off to the races.

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

I have thoughts about the traitor perk in eden's garden, for how just vicious it was. Did she knew it had a time limit for her own death going in? did she accept it and only have that sprung on her after? It's so cruel, so so cruel, and the fact Tozu doesn't even PRETEND to deny it. There's a bit of "well she chose it" but there's not downplaying of like "well i only implied so actually not my fault" hes just like "Yeah i did say she'd die lmao, funny huh?"

It FULLY sets up that unlike the canon games, Tozu isn't pretending like he's fully above the game, that he has to be hands off, and that makes him stronger. He's fully admitting right off the gate that he's not above lose lose situations or playing favorites, he's fully brazen about how obvious it was set for Eva in a way that fully suggests that you cannot break this game by exposing the machinations behind the rules for being forced or lies. Tozu isn't as separate from the players like Monokuma pretends to be, he was fully down for casually showing up on command, fucking with Damon's head, and then leaving, and apparently several others did the same.

You can't even call out Tozu as being an unfair game master because he never really says he is. If he saved a stunt like this for the end it would have been a whole thing of unraveling, but he didn't, he did it in the first real murder and didn't even hide it like Tsumugi did. He's setting himself up as a player on the board immediately, he's not the student's and thus can only go so far, but he's very open about making exceptions and being loose with what he's allowed to do or not do. This isn't the kind of game that requires strict rule following protocol, because Tozu's a player too.

Tozu isn't some far away watching mastermind laughing but required to stick to a script that could break the whole game if taken advantage of, he's right there in the action, he's not pretending he's above the game or that the game isn't inherently biased or weighted, he fully embraces that he's a player as well, just a different player with different rules. Him targeting Eva so heavily isn't a violation of the social code, no more then Wolfgang isolating Eva and Damon was, players are allowed to target each other.

He delights in it even, he loves being the game master not despite being a player, but because of it. Tozu has very little thought that he's built different or untouchable, Grace showed that in the prologue by getting some damn good hits in. Tozu isn't pretending to be the person controlling the pieces, he knows he's also a piece and revels in it. Giving him a kind of power that other masterminds lacked.

He will set traps beyond just motives, he will bait, he will come when you call and adjust the rules to make sure you can do your murder that would totally otherwise break it, he is a potential ally, he is a rival player, he is tangible and real and cannot be just brushed off once he hands over the motive. If you can't figure out how to talk to Tozu, how to appeal to Tozu, if you fail to keep him in mind as a player instead of just a watcher and judge, you will be at an objective disadvantage over those who do, because Tozu knows he is fallible, that rules are imprecise, and instead of pretending otherwise, he uses that fallibility to make himself even more dangerous by embracing it and using it against the group.

[meanderfall]

Been watching the 2003 tmnt show, and obviously I went in with some knowledge of who the turtles are and their roles and personalities, but it's been kind of fascinating to notice how Leonardo is actually pretty restrained in acting as a leader, at least in the more traditional sense (and from what i've seen so far in the first 2 seasons).

The moments where he actually directly takes charge of a situation and tells his brothers what to do, or puts his foot down on what he thinks is best, are actually few and far between. It usually only really crops up in life-or-death situations, or if his brothers are arguing over a course of action and he has to intervene.

To be honest, I think his more common leadership moments are understated to the point of barely being noticeable, and it's whenever they have a problem or situation to deal with and he turns to his brothers for suggestions on what to do. And the reason i consider this to be leadership moments are threefold:

First, by doing so, he's actually helping direct their focus on possible solutions or weak points, because his questions to them are never "what do we do" but more like "how can we distract the guards" or "is it possible to take down this machine", and like, listen. Listen. As someone who works with the general public and is one of the "leaders" of my department and has to guide my co-workers, the ability to assess a situation and even just know what kind of questions to ask to reach a solution is genuinely an underrated skill that far too many grown ass adults have not cultivated.

Second, he's actually keeping the line of communication open between him and his brothers. Sure, Don is usually the turtle who provides an answer, but Raph and Mikey are always welcome to speak up too and sometime they go with their ideas! I also think this makes them comfortable enough to speak up during more high pressure situations that aren't going great when they have a plan, bc they have full confidence that Leo and the others will back them up bc Leo really is always encouraging them to think and help him figure out what to do,

Which brings me to my third reason. By asking them for their thoughts and advice, it shows that Leonardo is willing to admit that he doesn't know something and he isn't afraid to look for them for help (at least in this regard lmao). And idk about yall but I'm much more willing to follow someone who won't pretend he has all the answers and is willing to seek advice, over someone whose ego is so big they can never admit to being wrong or humble themselves to ask for help.

And, like, I don't really know what came first, if, growing up, they were so close and good at working together that it never occurred to Leonardo to be more authoritative with his brothers now that they're a team, or if because Leonardo spent so much of their childhood more concerned with running after them and bailing them out of whatever scraps they get into and low-key knew telling them what to do wouldn't work that he just naturally fell into a more communicative and "we're all in this together, let's figure out what to do together" style.

But it does give off the impression of the brothers being a tight-knit team that pretty much work as one unit. Any friction between them is minimal at best (with most of it actually being between Mikey and Raph who take any opportunity to mess with the other). They don't really need to outline plans bc they're usually on the same page in the first place, and they have complete trust and faith in one another in getting the job done. No one is really in charge until it's necessary.

And, finally, all of the above combined is why I think his brothers usually listen and respect Leo on the rare occasions he does put his foot down on something. They know he wouldn't do it unless he was serious about what he's saying. Pretty much the only times they don't are when all 3 of them are united on wanting to do something and Leo was already kind of wavering on what to do, so they know they can rush ahead and big brother will rush after them to make sure they're okay. Or if they are also absolutely serious and fully believe in their own opinion on an issue (see the City at War arc where Leo and Raph are on complete opposite sides of the issue at hand).

but i still got 2 and half seasons to get through so maybe that changes!

[whatsthemadder]

You too

Bakugo Katsuki x reader

Word count: 4.8k

Hi! This is my first ever fanfic (welcome to me making my own history and thank you for being here :’)) it’s very rough, very self indulgent, very much a blur of incoherent thoughts all struggling to make a complete story. Umm what to tell you about it, you and bestie Bakugo confessing your feelings, reader described is female and she/her pronouns mentioned, lots of cussing cause duh boom boom boy, mentions of w33d and alcohol, slightly suggestive at times, lots of cringey, cheesy, fluff. Please let me know if I’m missing or should add something! (Seriously guys pls send help🥲🙏) anywho enjoy! AND ITS COLLEGE AU! SORRY

The music was loud and blaring through the various speakers in the house, sending vibrations through your body. You were right on the dance floor, maybe five or six shots in (fuck if you could remember). Somewhere after number three is when you stopped counting. You originally didn’t plan on drinking so much, but that’s to be expected when you’re best friends with Mina. She always knew how to push your buttons and get you to loosen up a bit. Not that you needed much help, in fact, you kind of loved the little games and shenanigans you and her both pulled together and tonight is no different.

Your school beat their rival team today and the boys decided to throw a party to celebrate. That’s how you ended up at your friends’ house, home to Denki, Sero, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki and your childhood best friend, Katsuki Bakugou. His parents are the main reason they live such a nice house, wanting to give him the best and set him up for success as much as they can. It was so cute and heartwarming to see how they supported him, and deep down he appreciated it even if he would tell you to “stop saying corny shit” if you brought it up.

You hadn’t seen the explosive blonde yet, but the night was still young. He was probably in the basement playing some drinking game with his teammates or making out with some new girl for the night. The idea turned your stomach. You’ve had feelings for your best friend for what feels like forever. You don’t quite know for sure when you realized you were in love with him and for the longest time you rejected those feelings (shocker) for fear that he didn’t feel the same way. You love the relationship you have and don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it, so you’ve been keeping your feelings to yourself deciding having him at all is better than nothing.

A pretty pink hand, holding yet another glass out for you brings you out of your daze. “Stop thinking so much for once and have fun girl,” she pouts at you. With a roll of your eyes you take the glass and giggle, protesting, “I am having fun. are you trying to make me black out?” She grins mischievously only saying “tits up” before downing her drunk. You quickly follow suit. She grips your shoulders and shakes you slightly, making you extra dizzy. “Y/n you’re my best friend and I want- no NEED- you to have the best time of your life. Unless you’re gonna find some balls and jump that man’s bones, I hereby order you to,” she unceremoniously burps in your face making you cringe, “get out there, shake some fucking ass and have the best. Fucking. Night. Ever! Make your future grandchildren proud!” She threw her head back to tell the last part. How she was able to get through all that is beyond you but Mina has always had a strong tolerance to alcohol, unlike you. While you felt your heart twist a little at the mention of Katsuki you decided she was right. It’s time to shake some fucking ass.

Katsuki was downstairs in the basement as predicted playing a game of cup pong with his friends. Currently him and Kirishima were getting their asses handed to them by the biggest dipshits known the man: denki and sero.

“Drink up, bakubro. Man who would’ve thought our quarterback would be so shit at beer pong?” He laughs and Bakugou wants nothing more than to slap that stupid fucking smirk off his face. He does as he’s told though after giving a tch and flipping the yellow haired boy off. “I’m not shit, dumbass, just thought I’d take it easy on you two jackoffs.” No one is convinced

“I didn’t realize you knew how to take it easy,” the black haired man on the other side of the table teased, taking a lazy hit off his blunt. He passes it to Denki.

“Yeah, I think that’s a lame excuse to cover up the fact that you keep getting distracted looking for a certain someone,” denki wiggles his eyebrows knowingly and Bakugou is seriously considering punching his face in.

“Fuck off, dunceface before I punch your shitty face in.” He gruffed. He felt his cheeks start to heat up at the mention of you. Truthfully, whether he’d want to admit it or not, he did want to see you. Was excited for a chance to glimpse at you again. Sure you both see each other and hang out all the time outside of parties but he can’t stop himself from getting giddy thinking about being with you again. How your hair always smells so sweet. How your skin always looked so soft and smooth. Your laugh that makes him feel warm and dopey inside. Or the way your eyes will focus wholly on him like nothing else matters. He didn’t know when it happened but one day he just started being softer with you. Not yelling as much when you were close, sharing his food with you when you forgot (after getting scolded and lectured for forgetting your food like a dumbass of course), complaining about doing something half heartedly when you both knew he’d comply with what you say regardless. Fuck he was whipped, huh? Not that he was complaining. Dammit he wished he grew some balls already and ask you out. He’s too scared omg Bakugou scared?? to admit his feelings for fear that you wouldn’t feel the same and reject him. He’d rather accept his unrequited love and keep his friendship with you than go fuck it up by sharing his feelings and shit. The only problem is he doesn’t want you being with anyone else. The thought of someone else holding you, making you laugh, touching you, looking at someone else in that dreamy way that’s only for him, pisses him the fuck off.

Bakugou is immediately brought back to reality by a cloud of smoke blowing in his face. He coughs a little, startled, before glaring at the idiot next to him who’s smugly watching him. “Whatcha thinking about kacchan? Could it be another wet fantasy about a certain someone getting you all worked up?” Prick. It was then that bakugou realized he had crushed his solo cup in a death grip.

“Tch. Shut the fuck up asshole before I kick your ass.” Bakugou snarled. “Fuck. I need to clean this” he mumbled to himself. “Oi! Icyhot! Get your ass over here!” The two hair colored boy in question looks up from his spot on the wall with a blank stare where he’s talking to a pretty little brunette. Then flips Katsuki off. The fuck?? That fucking bastard. He made a mental note to kick his ass too after dunceface. Midoriya comes up shortly and claps his hand on his back, “just go bro, I’ll take over.”

“Thank god!” Kirishima yells. “Finally someone manly. Was tired of paying the price for your shit playing.” Kiri let out a sharp toothed grin. God he hated his insufferable teammates sometimes. Assholes.

“You’re all gonna fucking get your sorry asses kicked later!” The angry Pom shouted before storming for the stairs. He faintly heard one of them say “ooh we’re so scared” followed by snickers as he walked away.

Getting to the stairs proved to be a bit more challenging than he expected, but honestly because of his towering 6’3 body, beefy frame, and scary repetition, the crowd parted easily for him, but not without some random extras trying to talk with him or grubby hands that definitely didn’t belong to you attempting and failing to grab hold of him. There were people all up and down the stairs but that didn’t stop him from bulldozing through. Once he reaches the top he beelines for the kitchen to wash his beer soaked hands. He’s on his way to his room to change his shirt when he emerges into the living room and sees you. His eyes widen slightly and gloss over a bit. Holy shit.

You wore a red and black football jersey that you modified to cinch your waist better and had a neckline that accentuated your chest more. Your low waisted pants hugged your ass just right and exposed the cute little belly ring you have, twin to Mina’s. It was an impulsive decision you both made one random Tuesday night that you don’t regret. He didn’t need to see the back of your jersey to know that it was his name there. Fuck he loved when you showed off his number. It made him feel like you were his.

All of a sudden he’s drunk at the sight of you. The way your hips are swaying and your body is moving. You look so angelic but somehow sinful too. He wanted nothing more than to hold your body against his, feel you grind and dance on him and show everyone that no one else is allowed to have you. He’s currently in the middle of an internal debate deciding whether or not to act on his impulses when some fucking extra comes and puts his hands on you. You don’t realize that you’ve been moved away from Mina and are now in the arms of Neito fucking Monoma, happily and carelessly dancing to the rhythm. The fuck was that dipshit doing here? He plays for the rival team they beat today. He should be somewhere fucking crying like a child and throwing a tantrum, not here in HIS home putting his filthy hands on HIS your pristine body.

It takes bakugou all of two seconds to get his feet moving. Another three and he’s standing right in front of you gently, yet firmly, pulling you out of Monomas grasp and letting you fall into his chest.

It doesn’t take you long to realize whose body you just crashed into, that familiar warmth and Smokey, caramelized scent wrapping a comforting blanket around your drunkened senses. Immediately you melt into his body. You look up, surprise lighting your eyes, and find him with the meanest, nastiest look on his face you’ve ever seen, but it’s not directed at you. Thank god. He looks really pissed as fuck. Damn. Has he always been this hot when he’s angry? I wonder if he’d ever try taking that anger out on m-

Piercing crimson eyes were staring down at you, stopping your perverted thoughts in their tracks. When did he start looking at you? Maybe you’re more fucked up than you thought, but his eyes looked softer as they gazed at you. Your cheeks started heating up under his undivided attention. You couldn’t help the dopey, stupid smile that began to split your face in two. “Katsuki!” You squealed. Youre arms circle his waist, holding him tight, while you lay your head on his surprisingly soft chest, nuzzling into him. His arms immediately came up to wrap around your shoulders, pressing you unbelievably closer to him. God you were so happy. So unapologetically happy. Maybe you’ll say fuck it and tell him you want a relationship more than just friends. At least you’ll know you tried. For now you were content.

Bakugou couldn’t help the blush that erupted on his face. His cheeks rivaling the color of his red headed friend’s hair. He had never heard a sound so sweet than the way you just said his name like he was responsible for making the sun rise everyday. He knew right then that he’d be spending the rest of his life chasing after that sound again and he has a good idea about to make it happen. He almost forgot why he was so fucking mad in the first place when you started clinging onto him like you’d melt away if you were any further apart. He just wants to hold you like this forever.

A grating noise breaks him from his bubble and he looks up, remembering exactly why he was so upset. Monoma stands there with cocky smirk on his face, his eyes scanning your body. Oh hell no.

“The fuck are you doing here asshole. First beating wasn’t enough?” A smirk danced on his face, but his voice was anything but amused. The growl and vibrations that rumbled through his chest startled you, causing you to regrettably pull away from him. You looked over your shoulder to see Neito Monoma standing right behind you looking at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. Is that who you were dancing with just now? Now that you’re thinking cap is starting to come back on, you wonder where Mina went. One minute you were dancing together, giggling like school girls and the next you were sandwiched between two really huge guys. If you weren’t so tipsy and slightly crossed, you’d probably be more concerned as to how you ended up in this situation in the first place, but how could you when the way Katsuki’s biceps moved under his sinful tight shirt was all you could focus on. You don’t even realize that you’re now looking at his back until you see hands start to grab for him. You sober up long enough to realize that the hands belong to a couple of his teammates- sero and Kirishima- holding him back. You notice his breathing turned ragged and his fists are clenched at his side. Monoma is standing a couple of feet back, cradling his jaw that’s starting to sport an ugly shade of purple. He spits out some blood mixed saliva and looks like he’s about to murder the angry headed Pom. After a brief glance at the quick assembling team of giants, he decides against starting anymore shit and just scoffs. “You’ll be fucking sorry you ever touched me asshole.”

“Get the fuck out of my house. Stay away from me and stay the fuck away from her. If I catch you even breathing the same air as her I’ll make sure that’s the last fucking breath you take, you got that shithead?” Unlike his usually loud, brash demeanor, Katsuki’s voice was deathly quiet when he said that. Even over the music you could hear every word he said. Fuck why is he so hot? you think. You shouldnt be feeling butterflies about promised death, but damn did your knees go weak at the threat. It wasn’t just any threat but one he made on your behalf. If it wasn’t for the slender pink arms holding you up you might’ve collapsed. Wait pink arms? Mina!

Her worried eyes meet yours and she looks you over making sure you’re alright. “Are you okay?” You’d never seen her so concerned before. It doesn’t sit well with you so you flash her the brightest smile you can muster and say “yep! You’re here now why wouldn’t I be?” She gives you a small smile and kisses your head. “I cant believe that bastard had the balls to show up here like that and start dancing with you of all people.” She laughs at the way your eyes bug out of your head. “What?!” Fuck so I did dance with him. You cringe at the thought and she laughs again. Now the situation with Bakugou makes sense. Shit! Where’s Bakugou?

You turn back to where you last saw him and found him staring at you, his breathing more controlled. You can tell he’s still tense. Ready to snap at a moments notice if provoked. You don’t think about what you’re doing as you walk up to him and take his hand, planning on leading him somewhere out of here. You don’t think about all the eyes that watch you two, fearing that you’ll lose your nerve if you pay them any mind. Honestly, with the way he’s looking at you right now it’s not that hard to do. He’s watching you like his life depends on it, ready to jump in head first at the first sign of trouble. You don’t notice monoma’s absence or how everyone else tries to act like nothing happened for fear of upsetting the angry blonde.

He lets you lead him to the stairs to the second floor where the boys rooms are. They each have a lock installed so no unwanted visitors find their way through their safe spaces and belongings. You of course were one of the exceptions for Katsuki’s room. He had given you the passcode to his door as soon as they moved in saying you could use it if you ever needed a place to crash or get away from extras. You’ve definitely taken him up on his offer, much to his delight, especially after finishing those so called dates with those fucking losers. One time this guy tried following you home so you showed up at the boys house who all conveniently happened to be home at the same time and waiting for you outside, making the creep think twice about his actions and ultimately giving up. Thankfully you didn’t see him after that and good thing cause Bakugou would’ve knocked his teeth in if he ever tried. He doesn’t understand why you give those shitheads the time of day anyway. Don’t you know he’s the only one for you and no one else will come fucking close to him? No of course not because he’s been too fucking scared like a wimp to confess how he truly feels for you.

You’re at his door before you know it (it wasn’t hard when everyone avoided you like the plague) entering the code and stepping inside when the light turns green. He silently follows you in and you usher him to his bed, gently pushing him to sit down. You’ve started sobering up a bit more when you saw Mina and are now fully aware that it’s just the two of you in his room. It’s not like this is a new occurrence- not by a long shot- hell you’ve even slept in his bed before on nights when being out with the girls went on longer than you expected. Other than Mina, he was your emergency go-to contact, there for you whenever you needed him even when he’d tell you to figure out your shit on your own you knew there was no weight behind his words. He always showed up for you, however you needed him.

He carefully watches you from his spot on the bed seeing you roam around his room picking out fresh comfy clothes for him to change into and gathering items to help prevent a monster hangover in the morning. Now that his adrenaline was wearing off he started feeling the beginnings of a pounding headache building behind his skull. Fuck. He wishes he could just discard his head until it went away. “Katsuki!” He blinks and realizes you’d been talking to him. He lets out a grunt of acknowledgment to which you roll your eyes. “Do you have any more water bottles in here?” He looked at his empty mini fridge remembering that he’d used his last bottle yesterday, forgetting to restock. He shook his head. “Hold on” you say and you disappear back into the loud house, presumably to go get more. He wanted to tell you not to worry about it and that he’d be fine without it, but words suddenly became too much. Why couldn’t he seem to get his shit together anymore? What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn’t think he drank that much but damn if he didn’t like he lost his grip on reality.

You come back moments later, fresh bottle of water in hand, to find the giant ash blonde man sprawled on his bed. He looks so peaceful and handsome like this you think. His pretty face free from its usual scowl making him look angelic in the soft glow of his rooms lamps. “Katsuki,” you whisper. You lightly nudge his leg. “Katsuki,” you repeat but a little bit louder this time. You go to give him a little jab in his side when giant hands all of a sudden grab you and pull you down. You squeal as you land on top of him. His body hard beneath your soft one, but warm. So so warm. You do your best to at his face but his arms are holding you so tight to him that it’s hard to manage. His face buried in between your neck and shoulder.

“…you.” Is all you hear when he speaks into your skin. “Katsuki I can’t understand you.” You tentatively bring your hand up to card through his hair and he nuzzles into your touch immediately. EHEHEHE internally you’re dying. How the hell is he so cute? “I need you,” he repeats. It’s still slightly muffled but you understand him clear as day this time. You freeze for a moment, hand slowly slipping from his hair. He stops you just before you pull your hand away entirely and holds onto it. His ruby red eyes bore into yours as he retreats from his hiding spot in your shoulder, looking at you intently. He had glossy, drunken eyes earlier and now he’s staring at you with such intensity and clarity in them. It’s enough to make you momentarily forget how to breathe.

“I need you.” He says again but with more confidence. “I’m tired of pretending that being your friend is enough. Tired of acting like it’s not you who I want to spend the rest of eternity with. Tired of watching you go out with fucking extras who aren’t worth your time. Tired of trying and failing to find someone who compares to even an ounce of you. Tired of fucking being the biggest dumbass to ever walk the fucking planet and missing chance after chance to tell you how I feel all because I was a scared little bitch. I’m tired of us dancing around our fucking feelings and-“ Katsuki was cut off by your lips suddenly crashing into his. They were slightly chapped, but so sinfully soft. When’s the last time you heard him ramble like that? Doesn’t matter. All you can think about is his lips on yours and his proclamation of wanting- no needing- you. How long had you been dreaming of this moment?

He gently rolled the both of you so you were under him. One of his hands came to hold your face while the other gripped your exposed waist. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You lightly tug at the hairs on the base of his neck causing him to softly moan. You can’t help but smirk at the sound, already thinking about all the other noises he might make for you. Buuut that’s for another time.

Much to his your dismay, you pull away from him. As much as you wanted to jump his bones and take him for all he was worth (he definitely wasn’t opposed to the idea) you knew this wasn’t the time. You could get to that later. You had eternity after all, right?

You’re both panting, catching your breath, when Katsuki places a chaste kiss to your cheek. You give him a sweet smile that has him falling for you all over again. You motion for him to get off and soon pulls you up with him. He watches you grab the clothes you chose for him earlier- shorts and his signature black skull shirt- and lets you place them in his awaiting hands. “Strip.” Is all you say. A cocky smirk graces his handsome face and you have a sudden urge to smack it off of him. You roll your eyes. “Just change you idiot,” you giggle.

He shakes his head, that smirk still there. “Nah I’m good.” You narrow your eyes and pout at him.

“Why not?” You ask, arms crossed.

“Because I sleep in my underwear dumbass.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hmm. I guess that’s fair you think.

His voice is teasing. “Here. Strip.” You stare at the clothes presented before you.

“Fine.” Bastard. One minute he’s declaring his feelings for you, making you weak in the knees, the next you wanna body slam him.

You go to the bathroom and change, suddenly a little nervous about him watching you. When you finally emerge his eyes nearly fall out of his head along with his tongue. The hem falls just below the top of your thighs and you look so fucking cute like a mini version of him. He immediately notices you left the shorts. You look at him and shrug. “You go to bed in your underwear, I go with a shirt but also underwear if that wasn’t clear.”

“Here” you hand him the glass of water and some meds to help lessen the hangover effects. He surprisingly complies and you do the same thing. You brought crackers and a granola bar for you both to eat. Hoping to soak up some of what was in your system.

Sitting criss crossed facing each other on his bed, him at the head, you both munch quietly in peace until he clears his throat, catching your attention. Looking at him expectantly, you wait to hear what he has to say.

“So.. about what happened earlier and what I said..” he’s not looking you but rather focusing on the wrapper in your hand. Raising an eyebrow at him when he doesn’t continue, you drawl out, “yees.” When he continues avoiding eye contact you realize it’s cause he’s shy. Holy shit. Bakugou Katsuki is shy? Omg he’s so cute I just wanna squeeze his pouty face and kiss him. You don’t though :( not right now at least.

“Oi stop staring at me like that creep. Can’t fucking concentrate,” he mutters. Shit when did talking become so hard? And why the hell was he so fucking nervous. He’s always been confident, even if he didn’t particularly feel like it at times. Hell, he didn’t even feel this way for championship games. That’s because he knew this wasn’t a game. This was a serious matter and something so important to him he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

“I need you too.” His head nearly snaps off from how fast he turned to you. You keep going. “I need you in my life, more than a friend, and I was trying in vain making myself believe otherwise. I didn’t think there was a possibility of something more between us, didn’t think that was something you’d want. So, I tried distracting myself. Going on stupid dates, talking to random people and seeing how and if they compared to you too. No one ever did, of course,” you say softly.

You look at him and he feels his breath slip away for a moment. You’re looking at him again like he just made the sun rise in the west. Like he was one of the seven wonders of the world you just had to experience and explore. You looked at him like he held the world in his hands and as far as he’s concerned, once he’s holding you again he will be. “I’d like that… spending eternity with you I mean” you finish when he gives you a confused look.

He flashes you that signature smirk of his that usually meant trouble. “Eternity, huh? I guess I wouldn’t mind putting up with your annoying ass for that long.” He laughs when you lean over to smack his shoulder. “Asshole,” you saying jokingly. He grabs your hand again and pulls you into him, leaning you both back against his pillows. You melt into him without hesitation, immediately finding ease and comfort. Amusement still danced in his eyes as he kissed your nose. “I’ll only ever want you, dumbass.”

“Damn straight.”

You giggled when he starts pushing you off of him, rolling his eyes. “No! Wait, I was kidding!” You laugh.

“What I fuckin’ thought,” but he’s smiling too. Soon you’re snuggling deeper into his chest, his arms locking you in place. He hears your breathing start getting more even and heavy, easily being lulled to sleep by his warmth and the feeling of his heartbeat. You don’t even fully register the chaos of the party still going on outside of your little bubble.

He looks down at you and watches as sleep slowly overtakes you, his hands mindlessly drawing on your back. He kisses your forehead and he can’t believe how long it took him to get to this point with you. He wasted too much time before and now he’s ready to make up for it. “I love you,” he whispers.

Before he joins you in dreamland he can’t help but veryyy briefly think thank god for Neito fucking Monoma’s dumbass.

[wolfofcelestia]

oh, i didn’t really think about that. but yeah judging by what we know from the main story, sylus seems well liked by people who know him.

the mechanic he takes MC to talks about how sylus is often scapegoated, and implies sylus is a much kinder man than the impression he gives

the fact that the defected branch of onichynus created unnecessary casualties and bombed civilian areas show that some of the criminals within the organisation didn’t agree with sylus’s management style, which suggests they just didn’t like how he sort of played by a code of honour and wasn’t actually greedy for more power. like they think he’s not doing enough to “dominate” the city.

sylus’s biggest asset is mephisto—who he uses to watch over the N109 zone like a protector. he’s just sort of in the shadows watching over everyone, making sure things are going smoothly while keeping an eye on the EVER group

which reminds me, i think he watches over MC for the same reason. like ofc that’s his soulmate he’s been searching for through space and time but i think he also does it because MC’s life truly is at risk and he keeps tabs to make sure she isn’t exploited or taken as a test subject like tobias was.

we’ve only ever seen sylus kill corrupt people. so he clearly is an antihero with a moral code. he killed the EVER guy to send a message because these people are literally enslaving and abducting innocent people (including the almost extinct lemurians) and doing experiments on them to prolong their lifespans. sylus has seen firsthand what happened to the twins and i’m sure he’s seen even worse. the other guy he kills was a defected member of onichynus who was double-crossing him and was using the onichynus name to bomb civilian areas. i don’t think he killed the man because of betrayal, but rather because he was a threat to innocent lives and was absolutely shameless about it. like you said, he’s not a cop so he takes justice into his own hands. very antihero behaviour.

sylus also repeatedly has said he doesn’t like picking on the weak. in his anecdote he frees the captive beasts and returns the treasures back to their rightful owners after killing a tyrannical overlord.

you’re definitely right. he’s not only distrusting of the law, he’s been burnt by the law system. he’s been treated unfairly and he knows the real criminals are the people in power (like the story he mentioned in Lost Oasis of the seven gods that were beheaded for being capricious and exploiting their followers). every aspect of his story is so heavily connected to corruption in power, greed, and exploitation of the weak by individuals and organisations who want to “play god”. and he’s at odds with such people because these people are the kind who wiped out his entire species in a genocide, trapped him in an abyss for centuries, are directly related to the EVER group who successfully managed to prolong human life and move to philos, etc etc.

i’d love more anecdotes on sylus and his life and yes! more companions. i’m almost entirely sure that he was imprisoned in the space-time prison for going against some corrupt person in power, or he was scapegoated.

Yeah, we don't actually know the reason why he was in that top security prison huh? I wouldn't be surprised if it was Ever behind it all, either using him as a scapegoat or sentencing him harsher than normal. Even in one of the first glimpses we saw of Sylus, when he deliberately walked past the flower struggling to grow in an unnatural environment, it was clear that he isn't one to hurt or destroy anyone/anything that didn't warrant it

Even though we have his myth, we still don't know much about him in the present timeline. They really need to step up with giving us his lore before he gets overshadowed by Caleb entering the game

He was definitely keeping tabs on MC to keep her safe. We know a lot of people are after her aether core, but I also like to imagine him letting her do her own thing to see how brazen and strong she can get without him. If she had failed to become a hunter, I feel like he would step in sooner when she began investigating her past. And I feel like he would train her himself so that she could protect herself from people tracking her down and so she could come along to some of his "deals"

[siaclaw]

YOU WON'T SHIFT: THIS IS WHY AND HOW TO SOLVE IT.

Normally, in this type of post, you might expect an insufferable and endless list of methods or changes that are supposedly recommended to achieve reality shifting. And we've read enough of that already. At the same time, I am surprised that no one—or at least not that I've observed in my nearly five years in this community—has addressed the fact that our greatest enemy is the version of Shifting that has been imposed on us. YOU are not the problem, nor is your method, your subliminals, or even your level of hydration. The issue is your CONCEPT of Shifting.

Our body consists of different systems that work simultaneously to ensure its proper function. It’s NORMAL to have doubts and not fully believe in the practice until you experience it yourself because this indicates that you’re healthy, and your body is doing its job of protecting you from potential threats. Our defense mechanisms help us avoid, as much as possible, deception, disappointment, or any trigger that could lead to a negative individual reaction. Therefore, it’s healthy to have doubts, and truly, you CAN’T FIGHT them. However, you can reprogram your brain to understand the “threat” as an ally.

This process can be as complicated as desired, involving meditations or daily exercises. Nevertheless, I have found success simply by reframing the concept of Shifting with something that brings me stability and a sense of security.

For this reason, I will introduce my way of theorizing Shifting in a more scientific or rational manner, beyond the idea of literally "traveling" through realities—or even using that term—which unconsciously projects an impossibility because we view it as fiction or a physical process when it is not.

It is believed that the Universe is composed of three types of substances: normal matter (or common matter, the kind we are used to), "dark matter," and "dark energy." In other words, our Universe is formed by matter and ENERGY (among other unexplored concepts such as time). Normal (or common) matter is made up of the atoms that form stars, planets, humans, and all other visible objects in the Universe.

In quantum physics, there is a theory known as the interpretation of "parallel universes" or "multiverses." According to this interpretation, every decision we make creates a split in reality, forming a new branch of the universe where alternative outcomes occur. This suggests that infinite versions of ourselves could exist, living different variants of our lives. Different universes would be distinguished by their vibrational and energetic frequencies, which, when materialized, account for a situation different from the one we live in within our Universe.

Everything in the universe has a molecular vibration; nothing is at rest. Everything moves, vibrates, and circulates at different "frequencies" that interact with each other. You VIBRATE because you are made of atoms and molecules that respond to ENERGY.

Our brain operates through patterns of electrical activity that generate brain waves. These waves are classified into different frequency ranges.

An interesting hypothesis is that consciousness is not confined to our brain or body but is part of a universal unified field—a kind of energy network that transcends the barriers of space and time. It is an abstract concept and not a quantifiable property.

This field could act as the "bridge" that connects our different versions in parallel universes. In this model:

You are not your physical body but an expression of this field at a specific frequency.

Your "other versions" in different universes are manifestations of the same consciousness, tuned to different frequencies. Thus, although they seem separate, all versions are united on a fundamental level beyond time and space.

If we assume that each reality has its own "frequency," we could theorize that certain mental states, such as those achieved through deep meditation or technologies like Hemi-Sync, could allow the brain to align with a specific reality, popularly referred to as the "desired" one.

These vibrations create a sort of "universal energy field" in which everything is interconnected. Our consciousness, as part of this field, also has a frequency.

Our consciousness could act as a receiver, similar to a radio. This radio does not physically move from one place to another but adjusts its frequency to capture signals already present in the environment. These signals are the different "realities" of the multiverse, and we experience the one corresponding to the frequency we are tuned to.

Situation one.

Situation two.

By tuning to a specific frequency, your consciousness "collapses" that reality as your current experience, much like how the observer in quantum physics influences the collapse of the wave function.

Intention plays a crucial role. If our consciousness acts as both an emitter and receiver of frequencies, directing it with clear intention could help align our perception with the desired frequency. Therefore, intention is needed, much like someone who wants to change the channel on a radio. However, without faith, the change does not happen because if the intermediary does not believe they can change the channel or that the desired channel exists, then the proposal arising from the intention does not take place. This is simply because your brain does not perceive it as viable.

Understanding that Shifting is a part of us—because we are parts of the Universe—leads us to the idea that it is not fantasy, and certainly not impossible. Instead, it all depends on you, as the intermediary between the antenna (your consciousness) and the radio channels (the parallel realities, already confirmed, by the way), truly seeing yourself as capable of interfering and changing. And it is as simple as that. The complexity arises from how you perceive Shifting. If you continue to see it as travelling (concept that our unconcious mind interpret as difficult or complex) rather than a simple choice between listening to Taylor Swift or the latest news (under the radio metaphor, of course), don’t be surprised if you remain without shifting for many, many years to come. With this being said:

HAPPY SHIFTING!

[campbyler]

i'm wondering if your miscommunication in this fic is based upon a theory for byler's miscommunication in the show itself? i.e. mike understood will in the van and was therefore gutted when will told him 'youre the heart' in the pizzeria etc (seemingly telling mike to say i love you to el).

i'm trying to piece together things but i've forgotten if will has ever mentioned why their relationship went tits up before. they both are not on the same page at all regarding what happened in the past, but as of this chap... mike now knows how he feels AND will! its really interesting that the hesitance is based around them both thinking that they put themselves out there once and got shot down (or so i gather so far). which means something had to have happened in the past where a third party was involved and made things unclear? because their actions currently strongly suggest mutual attraction like mike said in 10.2

so im wondering if you were inspired by the show in this way, if indeed you DO believe that mike understood will's confession of feelings fully in the van? :)

i would say that it’s not necessarily inspired by that particular interpretation of the van scene, but the miscommunication trope in general is absolutely inspired by the show! mike and will are canonically incredibly passionate characters — that passion often leads to emotional outbursts, and they’re passionate about each other and their friendship, hence why they fight a lot lol. because they have trouble pausing and giving each other the space they need to communicate. when they do manage that, they’re besties for the resties 🤎 which is what we are trying to capture in acswy!

though i will say that acswy is the result of what would happen if they didn’t give each other the time to explain themselves and talk their feelings through 😗 plus obviously with it being a modern au, they’re in different circumstances than they are in the show, so their experiences have shaped them differently. i understand the ooc allegations about acswy, but i’m not really bothered by them because i do think we have done a good job of staying true to how mike and will would react if they grew up Now and had the influences they had. for example, will is for sure sassy on the show — he’s kind to his core, and never genuinely mean on purpose, but the sass is There. i think if he grew up with max as his closest friend versus mike, lucas, and dustin, she’d bring that side out of him more than it is present in the show. max is kind and never genuinely mean either, but she hides it as a defense mechanism, and will would probably be influenced the same way. it’s the same concept where, given the circumstances mike and will are in leading up to and during acswy, the miscommunication of it all has been exacerbated by those elements. and miscommunication is Theeee byler bread and butter.

neither will or mike have mentioned why their relationship is the way that it is — that will be revealed at some point in these final few chapters, but i won’t say when for spoiler reasons of course 😇 i will reiterate what we have been saying since ch01 though: mike and will are Both unreliable narrators. neither of them have all of the info and are just going off of what they perceive to be true. that doesn’t make either one of them right or wrong — they can Both be right based on their interpretations of their situation — but it does mean they lack perspective that is necessary for them to move forward. tee and also hee.

all of that rambling done, i personally do not think that mike understood will’s confession in the van, but support anyone who does interpret it that way!! i’d have to ask suni what her thoughts are on it so we might edit later with her thoughts!!

[yangqism]

[teaser] we can't be friends | liu yangyang

actor!liu yangyang x actress!femreader

synopsis. yangyang is born to be a star, the kind of talent that lights up the screen. you, on the other hand, is a nepo baby who everyone believed got the lead role because of your family’s influence. he fought all these years to be the man that he is while you are still busy proving yourself to the populace. you believe you’re more than just your parents. he believes he’s less than without his fans. when your lives become intertwined, things get messy–one has never tasted consequences while the other lies awake at night, haunted by the thought of it.

genre. romance, angst

warnings. there's pretend kissing then there's real kissing where yangyang doesn't ask you, he just goes for it, i do not know the difference between drama and series so sorry <3

words. 8,812

eternal sunshine. masterlist

a/n. i got CARRIED away because i felt like i was getting away from the plot? idk but this is a long ass fic so i hope u guys read it <33 thank u so much!!! but i'm pretty sure the other fics won't have the same words as this bitch <333 HAPPY NEW YEARRR YEAH

post date. January 1, 2025, 10PM KST

It started with the kiss scenes then the lovey-dovey shootings then came the drive-you-home extravaganza. Everything about Yangyang screams boyfriend for you. When he’d smile at you like you’re his most favorite thing in his world or when you’d be the only one he’d give techniques and advice on set, you knew what Chenle said about the man is right. 

At first, you were in-denial about it. Thinking that maybe you’re thinking this way about Yangyang because you can’t get your shit together and that you’re acting unprofessional. But, you know yourself. All this time, you are professional and diligent but his acts towards you aren't. 

Now, you’re here watching his character meet up with a new character the director added on a whim, saying something along the lines of ‘I’m sad Yangyang’s character didn’t have a partner.’

“Cut!” The director shouted, “That was a good run! Thank you, everyone!” 

The moment your eyes locked in with Yangyang, he immediately walked your way, not minding the new female character in his vicinity. 

“You were great out there,” you complimented. 

“Thanks,” he looked up before looking right into your eyes again, “But that’s just an act you know, what you saw earlier.”

“...I know?” You laughed. Of course, you know. You’re an actress for god’s sake!

“Just… saying,” he responded. “Anyways, are you free? Do you want to hangout with Sicheng and the rest?” 

You thought he’s about to ask you out on a date but Sicheng’s name flew out of his mouth and made your mood a bit down. 

“Sure, I’d love to,” you replied, opening your SMS app to message your manager about the said gathering.

You were about to sit beside Yangyang when the new actress beat you to it and told you to sit between Sicheng and Hendery. 

“It’s more fun if we sat beside our partners in the drama!” She suggested but you knew she just wanted to sit besides Yangyang. 

The table was tense, with the actress giving Yangyang a lot of food on his plate while you and the rest were quietly looking at the both of them. 

“I told Yangyang not to invite the newbie,” Hendery murmured. 

“Wouldn’t that be bad?” You asked, surprised he even talked to you. 

“So what? He could tell her I’m the one who suggested it.”

“That would be bad for you, then.”

"Everyone knows I’m bad. Much better for her to experience it sooner."

You wanted to continue the conversation with Hendery more but he was clearly preoccupied with his ramen.

“That’s Hendery for you,” Sicheng smiled. “Here, get some of the beef I cooked.” 

“Thank you, Sicheng,” you thanked him as he put some cooked beef into your plate. 

From time to time, Yangyang kept on glancing at you while the new addition to the crew kept on pushing herself to the man. He was being uncomfortable because even though they rented a private section of this restaurant, rumors can still go and he can’t afford to have that. 

“He’s looking at you, Y/N,” Sicheng said, as if you hadn’t noticed it earlier. 

“I know, oppa. It feels weird.”

“Miss Y/N, you haven’t been touching your plate. Is everything alright?” Dejun asked rather loudly and everyone’s eyes on you now which made you feel small, especially when Yangyang’s gaze turned concerned. 

“Yes, Dejun-sunbae. I just feel full now,” you smiled at his direction which is a bit to the left whereas you were in the middle. 

“I’ll finish your food, Y/N. Give it to me,” Yangyang suddenly said, his right hand in your direction, waiting for you to give him your plate. 

“But–”

“Sicheng-ge, give me her plate,” you swear you could hear the newbie disagreeing with Yangyang but he didn’t mind.

Sicheng, being the biggest shipper of you and Yangyang, gladly followed the younger’s request. 

“Thank you, Yangyang-sunbae,” you said, eyes glinting with affection that everyone on the table didn’t miss. 

Of course, the both of you may not notice your deep fondness towards each other but everyone around you can feel it–they just don’t want to meddle with it. 

After everyone finished eating, you guys decided it would be better to part ways with each other and when the cast vanished into the busy streets of Seoul, you found yourself alone with Yangyang. 

“At last,” Yangyang jokingly said, nudging you playfully with his elbow while grinning from ear to ear. “At last, I can be with you alone!” 

Your heartbeat raced as you tried finding a reasonable response to him. “Don’t say that, sunbae!” 

“Why? Don’t you want to spend time with me?” 

“I like being with you, Yangyang-sunbae,” you responded, your tone was heartfelt but your execution was shy. 

Yangyang glanced at you for a while before forcing you to look back up at him, his fingers found your chin, racing it up so you could meet eye to eye. “I’ve been meaning to tell you this, Y/N.” 

“Mhm?” 

“You can stop calling me sunbae, you know,” he continued, “Just call me Yangyang, like everyone does.”

“But I don’t like calling you the way they do,” you argued, your lips forming a firm line. 

He just laughed at your stubbornness before ruffling your hair. 

“Okay, nepo baby. Just call me whatever you want,” he smiles at you genuinely, never getting tired of your little habits. 

“Okay, my dearest sunbae,” he laughs again this time but you truly meant what you had said. 

Sure, you might have other sunbae than him that you look up to and respect the most but none of them is Yangyang. None of them can make you feel the way he makes you feel. To you, he’s irreplaceable.