#like the: we should be lovers! line
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utterlyazriel · 9 months ago
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SKSJHDFJ the way i chickened out bc i couldn't decide on one!! can't believe u recognized me by the vibes alone this is so embarrassing 😭
come what may oh my heart... Listen to my heart / Can't you hear it sings is sooo wtssf-core </3
and on that note, i will leave you with my fav fav fav olympic routine ever, my roman empire https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOEKdWrtz6U
- 🌑
it's the pictures!! ur the only one sweet enough to leave little pictures for me to enjoy <3 and the vibes as well :')
AND THE WAY I KNEW WHAT ICE SKATING VID IT WAS WITHOUT EVEN OPENING THE LINK LIKE TRUST I KNOW IT I'VE SEEN IT I'VE DEVOURED IT i actually love the elephant love medley more than come what may but its not on spotify.... :/ big moulin rouge fan if you couldn't tell HAHA
also yes feel free to apply all the pining from those songs to wtssf because it's likely inspired a lot of the work!!! ily thank u for talking to me <3
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karleksmumskladdkaka · 5 months ago
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RukiYui (+Mukami fam) scans from the Vandead Carnival Official Fanbook (*´ω`)♡
Spoilers for Ruki's route below!
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writer-room · 2 months ago
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I think the best thing about Arcane is that it proves fanfiction can really be legitimately some of the best written stories so long you have people who are REALLY ill about the content. Because that's what it is. Arcane is literally taking League of Legends and saying "my lore now". It's taking the preexisting lore it DID have and expanding upon it in a "wouldn't it be crazy if..." sort of way. It's erasing canon it thinks is stupid (Ekko's hair), it's confirming the underscored gay shit (Caitvi) while also making canon that one niche ship the author really likes (Timebomb), it's creating a found family trope (everything around Vander & Silco's kiddos), it's got original characters that get close with the main characters (Mel, Sevika, Isha, etc), it's got everything.
Arcane is a 100k+ longfic and I mean this in the most awe-inspiring way. All terrible media has a few people who are deathly insane about it and say "I can fix it" while opening up a word doc, and League of Legends got the pure LUCK of those people being legitimate film industry professionals. GODSPEED
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danandfuckingjonlmao · 7 months ago
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rewatching dead poets society for the first time in 4 years and i had to pause to make this it came to me in a Vision:
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holopossums · 11 months ago
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Love Bites~💗
Original sketch
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itspileofgoodthings · 1 month ago
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Random thought but I do think that fun can be such a good marker of whether or not something is healthy for you or even sometimes if it’s just good in general.
#of course not always! because we can be really blind#and stubborn#but also I mean over the course of time if something is still#fun#and it’s GOOD fun pure fun TRUE fun. the kind that bubbles up like joy and surprise and delight#and a bit of soda pop fizzle#that’s such a good sign that it IS good and it is good for you!!!#anyway I’ve been thinking a lot about investment in celebrities’ personal lives#and yes yes not a weakness of many but absolutely a weakness of MINE#I was thinking about how it often happened that at the height of an obsession of mine with a celebrity/their life it would stop being fun!!#And I would become absolutely miserable#because I was expending emotional energy where I didn’t need to be#and so I would have to draw way back. and when I did time would pass and life would unfold#and now it’s like—-I hope Taylor and Travis get engaged#it would be sooooo fun for me as a long time swift stan and care-abouter of Taylor’s happiness#and as a lover of romance and engagements#and also because engagements are front-facing in nature! they belong to the public a little bit!#in some small measure! so it would be appropriate to care and rejoice#and also I couldn’t take it very far or for very long until it was (again) no longer my business#but I guess my point is: fun is a good indicator of where that line is#it will stop being fun when it stops being relevant/personal/applicable/news I can actually participate in and rejoice in honestly#on another note sometimes in my teaching I will hear students discussing who I should marry#and it is—for a brief moment—so fun for me actually. it’s pure and funny and a reminder that THEY believe I could find romance#and should. and also if I were to take them seriously for a second. if I were to be like ‘hey can you guys set me up’#it would instantly become Not Fun anymore for them AND for me and that’s just !!!!!!!#idk i think it’s super important (and also super important to have a well-honed sense of fun I guess) (but that’s another conversation#ANYWAY#some THOUGHTS
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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spiritual sequel to this for our favorite local goober My Friend
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rainingmbappe · 11 months ago
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The rise of "let people enjoy things" is single handedly the backbone of the rise of anti intellectualism
#i need to talk about this#disclaimer : im beyond terrible at putting my point across#so with that being said let me attempt at it#let's take look at the hate and misogyny women receive for liking a certain genre of books#that is so often simply countered with let people enjoy things#but we cannot let that narrative take over a whole as if critical thinking is “bad”?#booktok has made it so that disliking a popular books makes you the person with the superiority complex who should just let people enjoy-#-things#but when did criticizing actively target audiences who like that peice of literature? When did that become the narrative?#its all mindless consumption without a second thought to the actual material which can easily be credited to the tropification of books#the enemies do turn into lovers and the best friends do fall in love 10 years down the line#classifying books into tropes and then fulfilling that promise gives books an illusion of being “good” since it checks those boxes-#-that the reader picked up the book for in the first place#the act of reading has kind of been substituted by the act of being a reader and just owning stacks of books#we have turned away from any form of analysis or criticism#if it scratches the itch then its automatically the perfect book without further thought#i cant help but contribute the mere existence of that “itch” to how mordern books are classified into tropes with set plotlines#intelligenctualism is almost always looked at as elitism#reading only classics doesn't make you an intellectual individual but looking at any book with a critical lens may it be a classic or a rom#-com does#criticizing certain aspects of your absolute favorite books is intellectualism and not bullying people who like anything but classics#that distinction is so far lost in translation that talking about how a popular book is objectively bad is being a “hater”#well then im a hater#this is not a hate post for people who actively enjoy booktock or the more popular books#im just trying to introduce any amount of nuance into the conversation thats all#i can honestly go on forever but i think ill end my ranting here#literary criticism#literature#books#anti intellectualism
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prolibytherium · 1 year ago
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Absolutely death gripped clenched trying not to comment on reductive posts on ancient greek homosexual relationships
#It is neither wholly '0mg two gay guys in love!!' and 'I am humiliating and debasing a lower man by making a woman out of him'#There's heavy elements of that in how they conceptualized penetrator vs penetrated but the erastes (lover/protector) and eromenos (beloved)#relationship was significantly more complex than that#Like it is conceptualized as sort of a mentor/mentee relationship and a positive element for an adolescent's development#It was the subject of romantic plays and you get things like people in antiquity in heated debates over who is the#erastes and who is the eromenos between Achilles and Patroclus (to better depict them in plays)#The bottom line is more 'the socially accepted m/m relationships were (what we would now consider) an adult and a child#(or young man) with the age difference being a fundamental element to the dynamic.'#And more broadly being penetrated in sex assigned a 'lower' or 'womanly' role and it would not be conventionally accepted#for an older/more socially powerful man to recieve penetration (which certainly DID happen though)#So absolutely a moment in the history of male homosexuality and not something to just go 'ew ew bad evil ewwie' about but also#not something you want to project modern conceptions of LGBT identity upon#Also we know relatively little about relationships between women in ancient Greece due to lack of sources due to being a#highly patriarchal culture but we can't actually know that they did not involve similar power dynamic#Certainly not to the same extent or in such a well socially defined way (bc they conceptualize sex almost entirely through a lens of#penetration) but I think you should be treating relations between ancient Greek women with the same degree of#historical distance from our lives and identities today.#Ok death grip failed I just typed an entire rant. Fiuck it
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artheresy · 1 year ago
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Thinking about how Wingweaver Xili implied the Foxians of the Zhuming have a qualities that look more akin to the Borisin
Praying to god we get to go to the Zhuming and they actually give the Foxians more pronounced animal features PLEAASSEE
Also very very interesting to observe the difference between the Foxians depending on what ship they come from… I need to research this more because I would love to show that off in some redesigns/my own designs ig for some of the Xianzhou characters we already know and potential oc designs as well
So many Zhuming thoughts, my brain is full of them
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nozomijoestar · 11 months ago
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Took me a while to realize but I can see similarities in how Asuka seems to process grief and how Guts from Berserk also processed his grief after the Eclipse. They both get so overwhelmed by the wrong that happened to them (father's hospitalization vs the Eclipse and a lifetime of misery) their reaction isn't to seek comfort in others or help/protect their loved one who needs them after the tragedy, it's to go off and inflict their pain on others to self soothe, as if that'll release the feeling from their minds.
The difference is that Guts was called out for this by Rickert and Godo. He needed to snap out of wanting to prioritize ridding his own pain to remember Casca needed him, and that Casca even in the state she was in was all the good in his life who went through the same experience with him. Guts had to remember he loves Casca more than he wants to self destruct. Like Godo told him he was a sword called fear with cracks in it. He feared sitting with his pain and grief and seeing it on the person he loved after so much violation. He feared vulnerability.
Asuka doesn't do this reevaluatation and has no one to call her out for her self destructive coping canonically. She can't sit with anything bad or face looking at it on a loved one either. That's too bad and helpless of a feeling. She's just as much made of fear (primarily from any helplessness as much as violations of her inner ethics) which fuels her anger, but her one personal attachment to her father who needs her isn't enough to make her want to reevaluate what she does at all. Instead his tragedy is the permission she needs to self destruct and destroy in the process, not like Guts who always told himself everything was for Casca and the fallen Hawks, who always reminded himself of the pain to justify the bloodletting.
Unlike Guts I think she'd be stubborn even accepting to listen to someone pointing her behavior out. Though her anger toward Feng did start out carrying a reminder this vengeance is for Dad even if it kills her in 5, even in 5's branching narratives that excuse falls apart when she continues in the tournament for her own pleasure during her route. The moment vengeance is achieved critically injured Dad is out of her mind. Her behavior during 6 repeats this process, preferring to hurt herself and others rather than sit to process a shitty feeling over her and the world's situation. Like Guts in this state she pushes away anyone and everyone else including any comforts because the anger isn't resolved, the fear isn't resolved, the pain isn't resolved.
They're both used to everyone being against them and having to fight for survival until they found joy in it as a side effect. And because of that independence born from isolation when something like the tragedies that happened takes place they put resolving their pain not on sharing with others but into scorching the earth along with themselves.
I don't say this either to imply they're exactly alike or that they have enough similarities to make a true character comparison because they absolutely don't. There's also some stuff I'm leaving out simply because Guts is a far more complex character in ways where there's nothing from Asuka to compare against (I would say Kazuya is the closest, more fitting Tekken comparison for substituting Guts vs Asuka style notes). I just find it interesting that even across wildly different stories the outline for an angry, self destructive, terrified person who thinks self destruction makes them strong and puts them in control uses a lot of the same foundation. And the contrast in their depths really shows how far you can push the concept depending on what you want or need for the character.
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cat-clawz-art · 2 years ago
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Couldn't decide on whether I liked it better with the words or without, so have both!
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ashmp3 · 1 year ago
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just finished meeting with my taurus friend and the serbian slash finnish architect we are working with for this competition and while in the meeting i got a text from my TA that everyone loved this little video my colleagues and I made with our projects (video which i narrated lmfao!) but why are my thoughts just like. Whatever that’s cool. Need to be put down
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sunni-stuff · 3 months ago
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Part 1 This is part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
With the train ride now over, the sergeants ran, scouring the market for two familiar faces. Their footsteps in sync, crunching delicate mounds of white snow. Soap broke through the crowd first, then Gaz and Gary were right with him.
“Where the hell are they?” Gaz pants out, his breaths misting in the cold air.
“You said the marketplace,” Soap huffs.
“Yeah, I said the marketplace, but it's not like I know exactly where they went!” Gaz snaps back.
While the two sergeants bicker, Roach quietly breaks away, scanning the area until he spots the familiar figures they’d been hunting for. Price and Ghost stand outside a cigar shop, deep in conversation. The satisfied grin on Price's face tells Roach everything—he got what he was after.
“They’re over there!” Roach exclaims, snapping his partners out of their lovers' quarrel.
Gaz and Soap go silent, their eyes following Roach’s line of sight until they, too, spot their Lieutenant and Captain.
In a heartbeat, the three of them are sprinting toward their unsuspecting targets. Soap grins like a madman, practically buzzing with mischief, while Gaz shakes his head, both amused and slightly wary of what might unfold. Roach, meanwhile, is simply thrilled to be along for the ride.
They skid to a stop right in front of the two men, chests heaving as they catch their breath in the biting winter air.
“The hell is wrong with you lot?” Price’s voice cuts through, laced with a mix of annoyance and bemusement as he shifts his attention from Ghost to the winded sergeants.
Ghost, arms crossed, eyes them with quiet scrutiny. His winter coat does little to conceal his bulky frame, a silent reminder of his imposing presence as he stands beside Price.
Price and Ghost waited for an explanation, knowing well everytime those three got together, they were definitely up to no good.
Like how they put semi-permanent green dye in Ghost's shampoo for Halloween.
“We… we saw. A kid with your face,” Gaz manages, still catching his breath, pointing straight at Ghost.
Ghost raises a brow, baffled. A kid with his face? What the hell did that mean? Did they think he looked like a baby?
Soap huffs in mock disappointment, shooting a playful glare at Gaz. “Oi, I wanted to say it!”
Predictably, the two dive into another back-and-forth. Gaz isn’t one to shout, but Soap has a talent for riling anyone up.
Price lets their little show go on for only a moment before his stern voice cuts in, slicing through their bickering. “One of you properly explain, or you'll be walking back to base.”
Roach steps up, eager to clarify. “There’s a kid, probably about two, and she looks exactly like the Lt. Scowl, glare, and all!”
Price and Ghost pause, their expressions twisting as they both try—and fail—to imagine a little girl with Simon’s permanent scowl.
Price shudders, shaking the thought from his head. “That is not a face a kid should have.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Gaz chimes in, nodding emphatically.
Ghost throws him an offended look, his usually hardened eyes showing a glimmer of hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing!” they all exclaim in unison, even Price, who quickly averts his gaze as Ghost’s glare narrows on him.
Ghost huffs, then crosses his arms. “Did you take a picture?”
Soap snorts, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Aye, right, 'cause that wouldnae be creepy at all.”
Ghost stares daggers Into Soap, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the wall. “Okay, then where is she?”
The three stooges lead the charge once again, this time with their Captain and Lieutenant in tow. They weave through the crowd toward the train park, where Soap eagerly scans for the woman and kid he’d spotted earlier. But the line they were in is empty, the pair nowhere to be found.
“Shite. I think they’re gone,” Soap mutters, his Scottish accent thickening in his frustration, the words rolling out with a clipped bite. 
“So the imaginary woman and kid don’t actually exist,” Ghost deadpans, unimpressed.
“They exist!” Gaz insists, voice edging on exasperation.
“Sure,” Ghost replies, his tone flat and thoroughly unconvinced.
Roach snickers, then glances over at Price—only to see him staring slack-jawed through the window of a nearby café, his cigar dangling from his mouth, forgotten.
“Cap?” Roach says, touching the older man’s shoulder.
Price doesn’t look away, nodding toward the café. “Found them.”
Everyone turns toward the café, eyes landing on you and Adira. The little girl is happily weaving between your legs, her tiny hands gripping your coat as she entertains herself, all while you order hot chocolates to fend off the winter chill. A soft smile touches your lips as you watch her play, blissfully unaware of the audience gathering just outside.
The barista, with a warm smile, hands over two cups, one with a little extra marshmallows for Adira, her voice bright as she wishes you both a merry Christmas. You take the cups with a grateful nod, handing one to Adira. She immediately takes her drink, sipping eagerly, her small feet bouncing on her heels from the sugar rush.
“Yummy?” You ask, glancing down at her with a soft smile, a wave of motherly pride swelling in your chest as you watch her delight in the simple joy of her drink.
Adira nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she pulls away from her straw with a satisfied sigh. “Yummy.”
With a soft chuckle, you both leave the warmth of the shop, stepping out into the crisp air. Hand in hand, you walk back toward the park, the world around you feeling peaceful despite the cold. As you reach the crosswalk, you stop, waiting for the light to turn. Adira looks up at you, her little face filled with contentment as she swings your joined hands back and forth, her sugary energy still buzzing.
Across the way, the team stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before them. Everyone but Ghost was struck by how much Adira looked like him—her features unmistakably mirroring his, save for the color of her hair and skin. The resemblance was uncanny, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world had stopped around them.
“She looks nothing like me,” Ghost stated plainly, his voice cutting through the stillness as though it were fact. His expression was unmoving, a wall of stubbornness in his eyes. He was ready to die on that hill.
Then, as fate would have it, a woman walking her dog passed by, and Adira’s cherub-like face hardened into a cold, calculating stare. It was subtle, but unmistakable. 
“Nevermind,” Ghost muttered, his earlier conviction faltering as he watched her shift before his eyes.
“So… you’ve been having fun these past years?” Roach asked, his gaze flicking between Adira and Ghost, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Not that I know of,” Ghost grunted, his eyes still locked on you and Adira, a mix of unease and something else flickering across his face. He couldn’t pull himself away.
“Let’s get closer,” Price commanded, already making his move. Soap and Roach exchanged a shrug, falling in line without hesitation.
“Excuse me?” Gaz sputtered, though his body had already begun moving before his brain could catch up, unable to defy the Captain’s order.
Ghost fell silent, teeth gritted. This wasn’t a situation he was used to, especially not one where he was forced to go in blind. He stood stiffly at the crosswalk, trying to hide his glances, his focus split between the team and you.
Soap ended up the closest, standing just next to Adira. The little girl paused, her big, doe-like eyes lifting from her drink to catch sight of him. The recognition was instant. Her lips pursed into a small line, and her gaze grew heavy with annoyance. 
“Ugee…” she whispered, scooting closer to you.
Soap froze, his mind stuttering for a moment. Did she just—? Did she call me ugly?
Gaz, standing behind him, couldn’t contain himself. A muffled laugh broke through as Soap turned to look at the others, wide-eyed and speechless, completely taken aback.
“Do ye lot think I'm ugly?” Soap asked, his voice thick with disbelief, clearly thrown off by the little girl's words.
“Not the time, Mctavish,” Price said, a tiny laugh tugging at the corner of his lips despite the situation.
The streetlight flickered green, signaling it was time to move. You adjusted yourself, ready to cross the street. Each member of the team started mentally preparing, unsure of how—or even if—they should approach you. Ghost, however, was the first to make a move, determined to intercept you. But Soap, ever the opportunist, beat him to it.
Ghost wasn’t exactly subtle, and having him try anything would probably send you running in the opposite direction.
“Excuse me, aren’t you the lady from the train?” Soap called out, his voice light, though his intentions were clear.
You paused at his interruption, recognition flickering in your eyes. You remembered the man who bumped into you earlier. “Yes? Is something the matter?”
“Do you happen to know where I could find Leslies?” Soap asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice, though he tried to mask it.
“The pub?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Soap confirmed, his face lighting up with a mix of relief and surprise at your easy response.
You look around for a moment, trying to remember and see the street names of your current location. “Uh…it should be about a couple blocks south from here. They have a big sign, you can't miss it.”
Thank God for Soap, because that one question was all he needed to keep you trapped in a conversation, his charm working its magic as you giggled and chatted away easily, the awkwardness of the situation melting away.
Meanwhile, Ghost’s attention shifted to Adira. He looked down at her, and she, almost instinctively, looked up at him. Their eyes locked in a silent staring contest, each of them studying the other. The intensity in their gaze was undeniable, both sets of eyes reflecting the same quiet, unwavering strength. It was like looking in a mirror—a mirror that mirrored back his own hardened stare and no-nonsense attitude.
Adira was, quite literally, his mini me. The resemblance was impossible to ignore.
“How old are you?” Ghost asked bluntly, his voice low as he kneeled down to Adira’s height, his gaze intense but trying to soften.
Adira paused for a moment, glancing up at you for help, but you were still caught up in conversation with Soap. She turned her focus back to Ghost, her small fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat as she murmured shyly, “Two…”
She was two. Two. Ghost’s mind raced, trying to piece together the details, but nothing clicked. Nearly three years ago… what had he done three years ago? He kept everything categorized, stored in his mind like a well-organized file system, but this was something that didn’t fit.
Then, Soap’s voice broke through his thoughts. 
“You don’t seem like the type of lass to frequent Leslies.”
You giggled, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks at Soap’s question. He wasn’t wrong… at least, not entirely. “I’ve only been to Leslie’s once, and, well… it’s how I ended up with my little blessing.” You glanced down at Adira, the warmth of your smile radiating as you spoke.
Everything shattered in that moment. Ghost’s stomach twisted painfully, his heart skipping a beat as the realization slammed into him like a freight train. Leslie's. Almost three years ago, during that stupid holiday.
His mind began to piece it together, the hazy memories from that night slowly coming into focus. He remembered the bar, the laughter, the way you had caught his attention. You were easy on the eyes, easy to make laugh, and most importantly—unlike everyone else. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, you just let him lead, let him slip into the night with no strings attached.
But now, as he looked at Adira, everything fell into place. The way she stared at him, those familiar eyes, the resemblance he couldn’t ignore. His breath hitched, and the weight of the truth crushed him—she was his daughter.
A knot formed in his throat as he tried to process the fact. Adira. His daughter. The little girl standing before him was his flesh and blood, the result of a moment he'd long since buried in the depths of his mind.
---
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thanatoseyes · 9 months ago
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Damn Damien. "if she's half as cute as you, that's good enough for me"
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ode2rin · 9 months ago
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new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)
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You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 
And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.
Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.
Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.
Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 
He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.
The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 
There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.
“Are we… alright?” he drawled.
What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 
He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.
Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.
“Okay, Rin.”
That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.
“Are you mad at me?” 
“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?
“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.
You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)
“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”
“You so are!” 
“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”
There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.
“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”
“Not to you, it’s not!”
A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 
Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”
“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.
With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 
“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.
“I’m not childish.”
“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”
Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.
“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 
“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.
The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 
They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.
He was now something more, something special.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.
It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 
Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 
It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 
You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.
Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”
“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.
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note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.
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