#maybe just keep using that thing and hope for the best.

[artemisiasmuse]

always known | CH.2

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem! kook reader

CW: 18+ mdni, smut eventually, angst, mean rafe, jealousy, possessive rafe, kook typical classism (not from y/n tho), abusive family dynamics, not really canon/au, swearing, drinking, no coke tho, ward cameron, mentions of eating issues, anxiety

SUMMARY: rafe’s childhood best friend y/n returns to figure eight by herself and finds rafe hates her for some reason, their friendship has gone down the drain and they can hardly remain cordial, and there’s one thing causing all of it: why can’t rafe just move on?

TROPE: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

< previous next >

the next time you run into each other, or really reluctantly meet up, is at the golf range. topper and kelce had conveniently left out the fact that rafe would be joining and you think from the sheepish glances they exchange as you spot the buzzcut they did it on purpose. you know you’re technically the odd one out, but you expected them to figure out that wasn’t a good idea after the last time you saw each other. like the mature 20-year-olds you were, you both ignored one another again. you thanked the sun in your eyes for allowing you a valid reason to not stare at him. rafe similarly thanked the sun for staring at you unabashedly with your back to him. your hair was up in a high ponytail, donned in a familiar light blue skirt and crop top. your legs glistened from sweat and the curve of your ass was barely concealed by how short your skirt was. yeah, suffice to say he was grateful. he caught himself in the thought, finding himself smiling.

“you’re still here huh? tryna prove something to daddy back home?” the voice rang clear in the tension filled silence stretched between you two, you still couldn't get used to the sound. you probably should by now. you know the sweeter lilted version he used to reserve for you would never be back, and while his voice wasn’t this deep before the edge is still there. a knife that keeps digging into you, bleeding you dry, slowly and consistently.

“despite your best efforts, i bought a place, you dick.” rafe hates that you don’t turn towards him when you say it, he hates how far away you sound. the words come out without any vitriol, but he relishes in the childish way you insult him.

“you’re actually staying?” an exhausted sigh leaves your mouth as you finally turn towards him, your brows furrowed, and his gaze traces your features. he could probably draw them with his eyes closed, but then he’d give up a chance to see them himself.

“yeah i always wanted to move back, i didn’t really have a choice before.” there’s that tone again, neutral and unfeeling, he hates it. distantly rafe knows he’s heard it before, you used to talk like this after you got yelled at by your dad or your parents got into a fight that you had to be subjected to. you’re trying to disassociate yourself from your own feelings and rafe knows that this time he’s the one to blame. his stomach turns and his throat suddenly feels dry, he has to make this better for both of you somehow.

“right, well you stay on your side, i’ll stay on mine.” as soon as the words come out rafe knows he’s messed it up further, your face falls slightly before your mask is back.

“really? what are we twelve?” rafe wants to laugh, but he can’t let you have that. the words are out now, he can’t take them back. maybe this is the only way for him to move on. he knows that’s a lie because even your annoyance is a benefaction.

“i was probably nicer at twelve.” there’s no humor in the statement, you feel like crying, there’s a horrible curl in your stomach and your heart is beating out of your chest. rafe is really ending it, you might be sick. you realize you’d rather bleed to death slowly than the knife be pulled out all at once, at least before you could hope for survival. the humid heat of outer banks does nothing to help the cold sweat coating the back of your neck. you feel sick.

“you definitely were, we were friends back then.” the whole conversation is pointless by now, both of you know it, but there’s something invisible holding you in that space, staring at one another with blank expressions and speaking nonsense just to keep talking. you’re tracing each other’s expressions with fervor, both of you know this might be the last time you can do it. it’s painfully familiar, you’re almost hit over the head with how similarly this echoes your childish fights before. you’d always give each other the silent treatment only to give in hours later. that wouldn’t happen this time.

“listen, i don’t know what your problem is with me, rafe, but i'm sorry if i-“a last-ditch attempt from your end. rafe cut you off quickly, ridding you of any hope for reconciliation.

“don’t, it’s fine just-we don’t need to be friends again, and honestly i just want you to stay away from me. if that’s too hard for you then-“

“i can do that.” there it was, the end of it. a lump formed in your throat; you had both long forgotten your game of golf. topper and kelce were returning, wondering what was holding you up. your legs might as well have sunken into the grass with how much effort it took to move. you tore your eyes away from his when you remembered them.

“oh one more thing, i can still hang out with topp and kelce right?” rafe didn’t have to punish you for his own problem. he took one look at his idiot friends and nodded at your question.

“yeah why would i care?” you gathered your golf bag, setting it on one of the golf carts as you avoided his gaze. rafe took you in, for maybe the last time he let himself, and tried to memorize every inch of you. you still had that scar on your knee, he’d cried with you when you got it, his dad had yelled at him to act like a man, he was 10. he should feel embarrassed by the memory or even sad but instead he relishes that he is a part of your skin somehow. that’s all he might have left now.

“cool.” it was the last thing you said before taking off and leaving him completely numb.

as it would happen, obx isn’t big enough for you to run in the same circles and avoid one another. especially when the camerons love you like their own daughter. rose had called you daughter-in-law for about two years of your life before you both started blushing and getting shy about the title.

and rafe does in fact care because it’s about two weeks since your little truce and he’s seething at the fact his friends have been hanging out with you and not him.

no, it’s more so you’re hanging out with them and not him, but he won’t admit that. rafe’s coming back from topper’s place, pissed off beyond repair that his friend keeps mentioning how funny you are like rafe doesn’t know it. but even topper, despite his general asshole demeanor, knows that you’re off limits. no one has dared to talk about you in any slightly untoward way since childhood because rafe always dealt with it. the last time someone had commented on your body in middle school you had to clean up rafe’s bloodied knuckles. even now years later the silent understanding stands.

he can’t believe his misfortune luck when he sees you hanging out with wheezie in his backyard. you’re both lying on your stomachs on a picnic blanket, hunched over wheezie’s phone. you’d always been protective over his little sister.

“lil cameron you sure know how to pick em.” you look at her unbelieving that the creature on her phone screen is the crush she’s been gushing over. wheezie had texted you that she needed advice, and you had a hard time saying no to her. she’d also mentioned/threatened that she would have to ask rafe if you didn’t respond because sarah was too busy with john b. that made you rush over immediately, knowing if rafe got involved the kid would be in for hell.

“oh come on he’s not that bad!” he hears you two giggling and while he could easily ignore you it’s starting to get under his skin. rafe walks past and you both look up; wheezie giving him a small smile and wave while your smile just seems to disappear. he tries to not let it sting, his expression blank as your eyes briefly meet and he goes inside. you both return to dealing with the message her crush sent. wheezie, ever the perceptive teen, picks up on your little interaction immediately. “what’s that about?”

“ask your brother,” you try not to touch the subject, it’s been hard to ignore it when you’re alone. you’re doing your absolute best to live in the present.

“oh please you know he won’t tell me anything.” wheezie looks at you with her big bright eyes and you can’t say no to her. you still see her as the little girl who’d ask you to play with her when sarah didn’t.

“okay fine, he doesn’t want to be friends anymore and we kinda agreed to ignore each other from now on.” your eyes fixate on the picnic blanket, picking at the threads that are coming out, you’re sure you can see the feelings flash across her face, they mimic the ones you’re swallowing down.

“what?!” it’s as shocking as it should be, you know if rose found out she’d be giving rafe shit for it. for some reason she favored you over her own stepson and that only made you dislike her more. your relationship with ward and rose had always been complicated just as rafe’s had been with your own parents.

“we stopped talking while i was gone, i guess he just moved on.” wheezie, much like anyone else who knows you two even a little, knows that your statement is categorically false. rafe hadn’t moved on even an inch. in fact, she could bet he was watching you from inside. her earliest memories of you had always been by rafe’s side. rafe was always softer with you like he was softer with her, that side of him was her favorite. that was the rafe she knew, not this petulant manchild who was pretending he didn’t care about you.

“i’m sorry.” there was nothing else to say. if rafe was willing to give you up, no one would make him see reason.

“thanks wheeze, now back to your creature.” you painted on a fake smile, hoping at some point it’d feel real.

then there’s the club, you’re still a member even now and you look like a dream in a sundress. rafe showed up with topper, kelce was already there chatting with you at the bar. you were quite the sight, your textbooks splayed across the bar as you worked on your biology homework. he wondered how his friends had managed to get you to come. rafe kept his distance, his body angled towards the bar. topp and kelce had caught on, giving up on getting you two to be friendly. there wasn’t anything he could do when your perfume lingered in the air, the breeze plotting against him and blowing it his way. being taller than his friends also meant he couldn't really avoid seeing you when he looked over. the amusement of seeing you steadfastly studying while nursing a drink was making it hard for him to ignore you.

“wanna grab dinner? i’m feeling burgers.” topper suggested after the sun had gone down and the bar was starting to fill.

“i’m good.” you hadn’t felt hungry in a while. you felt behind in your classes from all the chaos of moving and having little time for your homework. your laid-back friends kept inviting you out and while you missed them and wanted to make up for lost time you were feeling stretched thin. the constant reminder of your lost friendship didn’t help the already sickening anxiety churning in your stomach.

“you sure?” kelce asked, noticing how you didn’t look up from your textbook.

“yeah i’m not hungry.” rafe could see it in your face, your cheeks weren’t as round as he remembered. he started to feel panicked at the thought he might be to blame, so he rallied the boys to leave. you walked home by yourself, still trying to finish your homework while walking, of course unsuccessfully. when your doorbell rang a few minutes after you got home you didn’t expect a bag at your front door. a burger and fries. you knew who it was, but you refused to acknowledge it. topper and kelce would never do this. after that you eat normally, rafe didn’t deserve your thanks and you were too proud to let him think it was because of him.

you catch up on your classes after hunkering down for a week and refusing any socializing. your home is finally moved in, your furniture fills the space, and you don’t mind being home. the realization that you can finally feel comfortable at home is bittersweet, the absence of your parents is welcome, but another isn’t. his absence is a curse that you just can’t lift.

a/n: the pain is almost over i swear! (i can’t handle too much angst) also this series won’t be too long i think five parts max!

taglist: @clar2aa @ggraycelynn @rafestoothbrush @woweewoowa @mattyskies @always4tuesdayss @ashy-kit @chalahyung01 @rafeysslut @beabogsims @someoneisreading

[lucygraysboy]

“you’ve always been my favorite singer, even back when you used to force me to be your back-up dancer or part of the choir,” he laughs at the memory, picking up his sled and making his way back up the small hill. “why, thank you. i just want to make you proud. now you can say things like, my best friend is an actor. and doesn’t that sound cool?” he always feels a little weird watching a new episode of his western show every sunday, seeing himself on the screen, but still hopes lucy gray will want to see this week’s episode with him. “nope, that one’s mine, that’s why it’s a little too big.” hers is tucked away nicely in the pocket of his jacket, snow slowly melting. “mhm, of course, i can. this is my most effective weapon.” these kisses. besides, he just can’t refrain — she smells so good and her skin tastes so sweet, just how he remembers it. funny how it was snowing too the last time they were making out in front of a target… “i’m addin’ this to my resume. billy bonney twerkin’ king. maybe i’ll land a role in some gay show next time.” he laughs, happy and proud because he’s managed to make lucy gray giggle like this. “do you want to keep goin’? slide a few more times? or are we comin’ back home?” he wonders, taking her in. they’re both soaked by now, and he’s got no hat on, but he doesn’t mind. he’s having so much fun.

“aw, well thank you darlin’. for thinkin’ such.” hard to be mad at him when he lifts her up like that. “you’re still a super star, too. comin’ so far like you have and getting these impressive roles.” letting him know she’s proud of him, despite hating what happened in the process. “that still got snow in it?” the beanie, she means. “alright alright, you can’t butter up with a million kisses to the face just to get out of things.” lucy gray is scoffing despite wanting to die of blushing; cheeks heating up, her heart rate speeding up as she feels his lips touch every inch of her face. his mouth brushing so close to her lips, that sends goosebumps up her spine and a flood of bashfulness. “oh, i will. i won’t let up either once i get you.” flopping over on her back when he shoots up, hands pushing herself up and starting to slowly walk down the hill. her finger tips starting to hurt quite painfully in her snow soaked gloves, curling them into her fists, going slow to watch where she’s going but MOSTLY just to annoy him— since he ran off without her. unfortunately, she can’t hold back a laugh though at him twerking, dancing, shaking— whatever he’s calling it that he’s doing.

[goosewriting]

Could I get a scenario for joaquin x reader: where the reader is an avenger (she was like a protege to clint and natasha) but her main job was designing the suits and gear for other superheroes that works better with their fighting styles. Sams nickname for her is Sketch.

Sam introduces her to joaquin at Isaiahs gym (she trains there but looks after him on sams behalf). She starts to study joaquin to better understand how to equip his suit. After one of their cases, joaquin wanted to make a note in their sketch book where their designs are but ends up finding a different notebook that are not suit/gear sketches, but sketches of everyday things and most of the sketches are of him. Reader walks in to see joaquin found their personal sketch book and freaks out and becomes a stuttering mess. They end up confessing to each other and please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or two lol. Sorry if this is long, but I had some inspo and your work has been lovely 😊

Sketch

summary: Joaquín discovers that reader’s sketchbook features a lot of drawings of himself.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: none, fluff! kisses, maybe secondhand embarrassment lol

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i decided to use ‘sewist’ here as a gender neutral term instead of seamster/seamstress. i also changed it a lil bit so that Sam hasn’t seen the green suit yet. and i added a lil bit more at the end to lead up to the kiss, which i hope you’ll like!<3 tysm for requesting, this was such an adorable ask,, it took form in my mind almost immediately and i kept squealing at how tooth-rottingly fluffy this one would be 🙈🙈

[all masterlists] 🪶 [mcu masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

For years, you’ve been in the Avengers’ orbit, helping out by designing their costumes and fighting at their side. After coming back from the blip and getting the news that many of your friends were gone, you decided to fully go into the designing side of helping out all heroes. You’ve made countless garments and weapons of all shapes, sizes and materials.

So while you still keep up with your training, these days you consider yourself more of a sewist and tinkerer than anything else. You mainly hang out with Sam, who introduced you to Isaiah Bradley, one of the few super soldiers still alive from back in the day. He’s let you claim one of the empty offices of his gym as your workspace. You like working there while there’s background noise, be it music or other people training in the ring or with the equipment.

In exchange for using the gym as your base of operation of sorts, you help Sam take care of Isaiah by taking walks with him and making sure he’s eating properly. He may not be physically frail for his age, given the serum, but he’s as stubborn as he’s strong. Since he’s gotten a bit of a soft spot for you over time, you try your best to keep him busy and content. 

One day, Sam comes in with someone new. From where you sit in your office, which has a window to the main training area, you see your friend approach with someone you don’t know, so you get up and approach them. Immediately you come to the realisation that this new guy is extremely handsome and charming. 

“This is Joaquín,” Sam introduces him. 

“Joaquín Torres, Air Force Captain,” he says, stretching out his hand to you. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“And this is Sketch,” Sam continues, pointing to you. 

“Sketch?” Joaquín asks with a slight tilt of his head. You chuckle and tell him your name, shaking his hand. 

“That’s just what Sam calls me,” you explain with a smile. 

“Yeah, well, you’re sketching in your book all the time,” he says and elbows your side playfully, then turns back to Joaquín to tell him how you’ve helped design most of the outfits everyone has worn over the years, including his new Captain America suit. 

“That’s impressive,” Joaquín says with raised brows and looks at you. A slight heat erupts on your face at the earnest look in his eyes. “Sam was so kind to let me have his old Falcon suit. You think I could run some ideas by you?”

“Of course,” you offer, pointing to your office. “Come by any time.” 

From that day on, Joaquín drops by the gym several times a week, with or without Sam. He mainly uses the time to train with Isaiah, but he also enjoys visiting you and watching you work, chatting about anything and everything while you sew away. 

One morning he comes in to train, and from where you sit at your desk, you can see Joaquín at one of the treadmills. Despite your best efforts, your eyes keep drifting to his figure doing some cardio, with his back to you. At one point he changes to another machine, where he pulls a bar up and down, with the weights lifting and sinking behind him, sitting so that he’s facing your office. Again, you find your gaze drifting to the window instead of focusing on the work on your desk. Risking taking a proper look, you lift your eyes and look to the side. To your surprise and shock, you find him looking at you as well. Both of you are quick to avert your eyes, cheeks prickling with heat. 

That afternoon, you come out of the office to take some measurements. Sam puts on a mock-up of his new suit you’ve made, and you diligently measure everything, taking notes in your sketchbook that you use for designing. Joaquín stands next to you, arms crossed over his chest, following your movements curiously. As you finish measuring Sam’s arm in different positions, you turn back to your book, using some piled up boxes as a table, and jot down the numbers. 

“Do you have all designs in there?” Joaquín asks, pointing to your sketchbook. You pause momentarily, caught off-guard by the question, then you turn to him.

“I mean, not all of them,” you explain. “There’s probably at least forty more books, all with previous iterations and ideas for everyone’s suits and gear.” 

“Wow,” he says, looking at Sam and giving an impressed nod. But then he turns back to you with a mischievous smile, and Sam rolls his eyes, knowing what he’s going to ask. “Do you also have sketches of Ant-Man’s suit?” 

You narrow your eyes at him playfully, then look over to Sam. He merely shakes his head with a chuckle. 

“Unfortunately no. It wasn’t me who designed his suit,” you say, and Joaquín looks a bit disappointed at that. Now it’s your turn to look at him with a glint in your eyes. “That’s oddly specific. Don’t tell me, you’re a fan?”

“Of course I am,” Joaquín retorts, and Sam laughs, giving him a pat on his shoulder.

“I’m still not introducing you,” he says, and Joaquín pouts. 

You laugh as well, then clasp your hands together, giving your sketchbook one last look.

“Okay, Sam, you’re all done, now it’s your turn.” You turn to Joaquín, who’s looking at you expectantly. “Your suit is in my office, there’s a changing room, you can go put it on there.”

“Hell yeah,” he says, starting towards the office, turning to Sam as he walks backwards. “You’re gonna love this.”

Sam looks at you with confusion and suspicion. 

“Just wait and see,” is all you give him. 

A couple minutes later, Joaquín comes out of the office donning his Falcon suit. Sam looks him up and down, recognising the design.

“Is that…”

“Yep,” Joaquín says with outstretched arms to show off his new look, doing a twirl. 

“The new colour was his idea,” you say, walking all around Joaquín to check if the suit sits properly. You come to a short stop when next to him, and lift your eyes to meet his. “And I think green really suits him.” 

As you continue checking him over, you miss the knowing look that Joaquín and Sam exchange. 

“Oh, this doesn’t look quite right,” you say, noticing how there seems to be extra fabric at his waist, instead of sitting flush. You grab your fabric marker, drawing some lines where you’ll need to take in the sides. Only when you’re done do you realise how close to Joaquín you’ve been standing, and how his gaze is cast to the side, a flustered look on his face. You’re quick to take a step back, thinking you might have made him uncomfortable. 

“So, how does it feel? Any pinching? Can you move properly?” you ask him, perhaps a little too quickly in an attempt to change the subject, and he starts moving his limbs in all possible angles, trying out the suit. “If there’s anything at all, please let me know.” 

You pick up your sketchbook to take some notes as he continues trying out the range of motion. 

“Nope,” Joaquín finally says, coming to a halt, and his smile makes your heart hiccup. “It’s perfect, really.” 

You look away, feeling the heat prickling at your cheeks, and the look Sam is giving you is certainly not helping.

“Well if there’s anything at all, or any ideas you might have later, feel free to add them to the sketchbook,” you say, showing him the page where the Falcon suit design is. “Even if I’m not around, there’s post-it notes in my office. Feel free to write down any ideas you might have.” 

“Will do,” Joaquín says.

“Alright, we’re done then. Thanks to you both,” you say, turning to Sam and then to Joaquín. They both nod in acknowledgement, and you walk back to your office with Joaquín to drop off your sketchbook and materials, leaving it all on your already cluttered desk.

You walk out again so that Joaquín can change in peace, and you see Sam get his phone of his pocket. He reads a text and announces he has to go, so you accompany him outside for a moment to see him off. 

When Joaquín comes back out from changing, he finds the two of you gone. Since he’s still holding the suit, he leaves it on the bench in your office, where there’s piles of fabric and other materials. He lets his eyes roam over the space, strangely endeared by how much it contrasts with the rest of the gym. This corner really feels lived in, he concludes. There’s hints of you everywhere. 

He scans the desk next, seeing little figurines, varying from various animals to faceless wooden people, probably used to design the suits. There’s also several bobbins with coloured thread, post-it notes all over, and the sketchbook. 

A thought occurrs to him of a change for his suit that he wanted to ask about earlier, but then promptly forgot when you ended up so close to him. Since you offered earlier for him to write down his ideas, he decides to do that before he forgets again. Without really looking, he grabs the sketchbook and opens it, his other hand going for the post-it notes and a pen. However his movements come to a sudden stop when his eyes land on the open book. He flips to the next page and realises that is is not your sketchbook. Well, it is, but not the one he meant. 

Joaquín quickly shoots another look to the desk below, only now seeing the other sketchbook peeking out from underneath some other materials which you had used earlier when he was trying on the suit. He knows he shouldn’t snoop, but when his eyes land back on the drawings in his hands, he can’t look away. 

This seems to be your personal sketchbook, full of ink and pencil sketches of different daily objects, landscapes, the gym. He recognises the ducks in a pond to be the park nearby, there’s a couple of sketches of Isaiah, Sam, and then him. Joaquín’s heart flutters as he flips another page. Him again. His mind is screaming that he’s very much intruding in your privacy right now by looking at all of these, but he just can’t stop himself, as he finds that the more pages he flips through, there’s fewer and fewer landscapes and animals and almost every sketch is of him. From the back, pulling weights, smiling, laughing, focused while reading something. The strokes around his face start out a little unsure, a bit squiggly even, like they were drawn in a rush. But with every new sketch, your hand seems to have grown more and more sure, flowing over the page until you knew the shapes by heart, his eyes, the curve of his nose, where each and every mole and freckle sat on his skin. He swallows thickly as he flips one more page, his eyes landing for merely a split second on an unfinished sketch of him from behind with no shirt on, the contours of his nape and shoulders marked over again repeatedly, the lower half only sketched out softly, like you hadn’t had a chance to–

Joaquín looks up at the sound that leaves your throat, something between a shriek and a horrified gasp. You’ve appeared in your office again, but he didn’t hear you approach at all. Your eyes dart between the book in his hands and his face, your own beyond flustered as you realise what he just saw. With quick steps, you shorten the distance and snatch the book from his hands, snapping it closed with a forceful thud. He opens his mouth to apoligise profusely, but you’re quicker.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” Your voice is squeaky, and the embarrassment and shock on your face shift to something closer to anger. “What were you doing?”

“I swear I didn't mean to snoop!” Joaquín says, raising his hands in defence, then points to his suit still on the bench as he rambles. “Sam and you were gone and I wanted to check the notes on the suit again, but I guess I grabbed the wrong sketchbook, and I’m so sorry, I swear it was an accident.”

You groan, your anger dissipating and making room for the earlier emotions again, and you lift your closed sketchbook to cover your face, shoulders tense as you hide behind it.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a creep or something” you say in a small voice, and he chuckles. That’s not the reaction you expected, so you open your eyes and peek over the book to look at him. An adorable blush starts dusting his cheeks.

“Of course not,” he says softly, fidgeting with some clutter on your desk before bringing his eyes to meet yours. You hide behind the book again. “I’m flattered, truly. I get why Sam calls you Sketch, there’s a lot of them. They’re really good.”

There’s a pause, and your hands tighten around the book. Surely he’s just teasing you.

“You really think so?” you risk the question.

“I do,” he says. You’re still not looking at him, and you think you hear Joaquín take somewhat of a sharp breath. “You know, I’ve been stealing my own fair share of glances at you too, I just lack any artistic skill, otherwise I would–” He stops himself abruptly. You dare peek over the book again, and he looks just as flustered as you do, which you find reassuring, but doesn’t really help you calm down. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you hold his gaze this time.

“What I’m trying to say is that some of the sketches seemed a bit rushed. I wouldn't mind it if you… took your time.”

“Are you offering to model for me?” you say after a moment. His blush darkens a bit, and he nods sheepishly. You need to force yourself to breathe normally. “I’d like that,” you add in a small voice.

In that moment, Isaiah enters the gym and calls Joaquín over. He excuses himself and joins the older man while you sit down at your desk, finally letting go of your book, and find your hands trembling. Did that just happen?

After a moment of just sitting there and looking down at the book, now slightly bent from your grip, Joaquín comes back to your office, and you look up.

“Isaiah is going home, and Sam already left,” he announces, then seems to think something over. “Would you like to grab some dinner? Right now. With me, I mean. Or in a bit. Whenever you have time.”

“Let me just finish up quickly here and I’ll be right outside.” The words leave your mouth before you can even process his request. 

“Okay,” he shoots you a smile so radiant that it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and you hold onto the edge of your chair out of his sight, fearing you might collapse to the floor right then and there.

Without wasting a second once he’s gone, you’re quick to put everything away and place Joaquin’s suit on your desk so that it would be the first thing you work on tomorrow. You put the sketchbook with the design notes in the top drawer, and the one with your personal sketches you pack into your bag. Another wave of heat prickles at your cheeks when you hold it, thinking back to how Joaquín had seen your many drawings of him. 

After you join him outside, Joaquín and you walk to a nearby restaurant, it’s small and there aren’t many people there yet as it’s still pretty early in the evening. Sam and you come here all the time, the atmosphere is cosy and the menu is really good. You guide Joaquín to one of the booths at the end and order some food, a pleasant conversation taking place while you eat.

Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands on the napkin and take out your sketchbook and mechanical pencil, clicking it a couple of times to get the lead out.

“Oh, right now? Okay,” he says, and leans back into his seat. “What should I do?”

You flip the pages as quickly and nonchalantly as you can magange until you land on the last sketch, and you clear your throat.

“M-maybe we’ll leave this one for another time,” you say in a small voice, flipping to the next blank page. Joaquín unsuccessfully tries to bite back a smile at the proposition. You scan the room around you. “Just, uhm, lean your head onto your hand and look to the side for now, at that picture with the flowers for example.” You point to the frame on the wall. 

“Okay,” he breathes, leaning his head on a propped up elbow and lifting his gaze to it, but it flickers back to you. “Should I like, smile, or something?” 

“Whichever you prefer,” you say, and start sketching on the paper. Your eyes dart up to him and then back to the page repeatedly. 

After a moment, when you look up, you find him with his face still tilted like you indicated, but his eyes are on you. Your movements stop and you feel a shudder climb up your spine, but it’s not entirely unpleasant, it makes your skin tingle. You hold your pencil to the page, unable to look away from him.

“You’re supposed to look that way,” you say, gesturing to the side with your chin.

“I like this view better than the flowers, though,” he says, seemingly completely unfazed, while your face is set ablaze. You can’t think of any good comeback, so as you look back down to your sketchbook, you mumble, “Suit yourself.”

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, save for the music and background chatter, where your flustered face shifts into focus, and you work diligently to translate his handsome features onto the page. All the while, he watches you work, enjoying the different expressions you make when you get something wrong and erase it, or when you finally figure it out and confidently place stroke after stroke onto the paper. As he comes to the conclusion that he could watch you forever and never get bored of the sight, another blush spreads on his cheeks, and he has to look away for a moment. 

Once you’re done, you add final details here and there, then place down your pencil and hold up your book, checking the drawing over. He drops his hand onto the table, expectantly waiting to see the finished product.

“It’s done,” you say, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, and for a moment you consider not showing him. But after he sat so still for you, how could you not? So, gathering some more courage, you quickly turn the sketchbook around, placing it into his waiting hands, and you bring your gaze down to the table while he inspects it.

“Wow,” Joaquín breathes, and warmth spreads in your chest. “This is… This is incredible.”

“You like it?” you ask, daring to bring your eyes up to meet his.

“Of course!” He looks it over once more, pink still sprinkled on his cheeks, then gives you back the book. “You’re a fantastic artist. Thank you for drawing me.” 

He looks like he wants to add something else, but then decides against it. Your brows furrow slightly.

“What? What is it?” Your mind immediately goes to negative comments, like he was about to follow up with a ‘but’, saying that it didn’t even look like him, or that you brought out all his worst features and insecurities. 

“How do I put this,” he says more to himself than you, propping up his elbows on the edge of the table and bringing his closed hands to his chin. It takes him a second to find the right words, and when he looks up to meet your gaze, your heart skips a beat. A warm smile starts spreading on his lips as he talks. “Compared to the ducks in the pond, I feel like you put more care and attention to detail into drawing me. Seeing myself through the eyes of someone who… You know. Someone like you. I kinda feel invincible right now.”

You can’t help but laugh heartily, not in a mocking manner, but more so in relief, as you feel exactly the same. 

“Well, I’m glad I could give you a glimpse, then,” you say, and for a moment, you’re so lost in each others’ eyes, you don’t see the waiter approach. 

“I hope everything was to your taste,” the guy says in a practiced customer service voice, and you both jump slightly. He starts taking your empty plates that you pushed aside. “Would you like to ordersome  dessert?”

Joaquín and you decide to share some ice cream, and once you’re done, he pays for the meal despite your protests, insisting that it was him who invited you to dinner after all, and you walk back to his car. 

“I’ll make sure to have your suit done first thing tomorrow,” you promise when you arrive, and your hand reaches out to open the door, but he takes it in his instead, interlocking your fingers, and you turn toward him with big eyes.

“I may not be an artist,” he says seemingly out of nowhere, stepping closer while still giving you enough space to back off if you wanted to. “But I can give you a glimpse of how I see you in other ways.”

Your brain short circuits for a second, taken completely off-guard by his comment. His other hand comes up to your face, softly brushing his knuckles over your cheek, which surely feels much too hot to the touch. You’re now somewhat trapped between Joaquín and the car, while he’s still making sure you can step aside, but you have no intention of doing that. So your own hands come up, trembling a bit, and you place them on this chest. He takes that as a sign to get even closer, and you can feel his racing heart through his shirt, matching your own erratic heartbeat. 

“For example?” you demand, but your voice is so weak, you're not entirely sure if he heard you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and his hand fully cups your cheek. “I’ll admit I've been wanting to for a while now.”

Unable to produce a single word, you merely nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he leans in. It’s still pretty early and there could be people walking by and see you, but you don’t care. Once his lips are on yours, the whole world around you disappears. You’re glad the car holds part of your weight and you can partially lean onto it, since your legs seem close to give out underneath you. The hand on your face cradles the back of your head while the other snakes around your waist. Joaquín kisses you slowly, tenderly. He gingerly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a slight tug, and he swallows the shaky breath that escapes you, his mouth on yours again. 

The kiss lasts forever and not nearly long enough at the same time, and when he pulls back, you blink a couple of times, looking up him.

“Wow,” is all you manage to say, and he chuckles, backing off you so you can stand properly again. He opens the door for you and you take a seat, still unable to form a single coherent thought.

Joaquín walks around the front of the car and climbs in as well, turning on the navigation system.

“Where to?” he asks, and when he turns to look at you, waiting for you to tell him you address, you grab the collar of his bomber jacket, pulling him close to you once more to give him another kiss. But before he can fully melt into it, you let him go, and quickly sit back.

“Sorry, oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, and he chuckles again. He gently pries your fingers away so you look at him, and gives your hand a squeeze. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing your hand to his face and placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

The way his eyes glisten in the dark, only illuminated by the street light outside the car, sends an explosion of butterflies straight through your gut and you have to look away. To distract yourself from the erratic pace your heart is beating at, you bring your attention to the console and enter your address, starting the navigator. Joaquín starts the car and you take off. 

“Will you come back by the gym again tomorrow?” you ask after a while.

“If it were up to me, I’d be there every day,” he says, and you feel even more heat spread on your face, if that’s even possible. “I’ll try my best to come by, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay…” 

“Maybe you can finish that one sketch of yours,” he says with a smug grin, and you playfully hit his shoulder with an embarrassed groan as you remember the drawing of his bare back you had started on a whim but couldn't bring yourself to finish. 

As Joaquín drives you home and you sneak another looks at his side profile, you realise that at this rate you'll need a new sketchbook, dedicated entirely to him.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @f1-tennisgirlie @magikdarkholme @tsunchani @Chuchu8293 @bitchy-bi-trash @guynamedaurel @crumbledcastle28 @sarahskywalker-amidala @crazy4lyricb

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

MR. CHU!

❤︎‬ sol wonders if you're interested in him after you ask about his piercings ❤︎‬ solivan brugmansia x gn reader ‪ ❤︎‬ wc: 2k ❤︎‬ content warning(s): yandere ❤︎‬ solivan brugmansia is from the kid at the back being developed by fantasia-kitt

Like everybody else in the school, you never used to pay much attention to the quiet kid in your art class. It really wasn’t until recently, when you had no choice but to shyly ask him if he’d like to be your partner for a class project, that you finally acknowledged Solivan Brugmansia’s existence. 

You don’t think too much of him. Even now, as he tries his best to pose for you as naturally as he can, your mind is preoccupied with the far-more colorful personalities at Olympeius University while you absentmindedly sketch the details of his face. You wonder what Crowe might be up to right now, or if Jess has made any progress with her ginormous crush on Brittney… 

Your eyes flicker up to where Sol is, and you try to pay close attention to the bottom half of his face. He’s a physically attractive young man, but aesthetics aside, you’re more worried about drawing Sol well so you can wring a good grade out of your insatiable art professor. You squint your eyes a bit, leering at Sol’s lips to try to make out all the details. It’s no biggie in your mind, since you need someone to model for you and you’re simply trying to make your drawing as accurate to life as possible, but Sol?

Sol thinks he’s going to asphyxiate from how fast and hard his heart is pounding.

He can’t believe his luck. It took him all the self control in his body not to start panicking and freaking out when you had approached him and asked him to be your partner, and now he got the honor of hogging all of your attention while you used him as a model. Would it be foolish of him to hope that you like what you see? He knows his fashion sense and style isn’t for everyone and tends to make him a target more than an object of admiration, but… you’re different. You’re understanding and compassionate, and maybe you’d find something worth loving in him.

“Hold still… I’m almost done here…,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out just a little bit as you scribble furiously onto your sketchpad. Sol’s heart skips a beat, and while he can feel a rush of dizziness immediately hit his brain at your cute tongue peeking out from between your lips, he doesn’t want to disappoint you ever. 

After a few determined strokes, you nod at him. For the first time since class started, Sol finally lets himself relax. His tense muscles groan as he finally allows himself to shift positions into a more comfortable seated position, and he looks expectantly at you as if he wants to see your creation. You’re like a mind reader, and without him having to say anything, you gingerly hand him your sketchbook. 

“I’m not an artist like you are, but… I tried my best,” you shyly admit. Sol’s breath hitches audibly when you scoot your seat a bit closer to him to explain to him your handiwork, but you don’t seem to notice. “I- uh- don’t know if I did your piercings justice since you have a lot, but I gave them a shot.”

You could have spat on the paper and handed it to him, and Sol would still treasure and revere it as if it were a masterpiece deserving to be displayed in the finest of art museums. Of course, he would never hand it over to anybody and keep it only for his personal viewing, but in his perspective, everything your hands could create was nothing if not holy. 

“It’s beautiful. You should give yourself more credit. You’re not a bad artist at all.” He thinks he’s going to pass out after class from just how happy he is. A shudder creeps down his spine as he relishes the thought of your eyes all over his face and body, him being the only thing to take up the forefront of your mind. What he wouldn’t give to know what you thought of him as you sketched his face. Just knowing that you cared enough about him to draw him makes him feel as if he’s on top of the world, and he can feel a warm flush overtake his pale cheeks. “Don’t worry too much about my piercings. I know metal can be hard to draw.”

“Yeah, but… I just feel a little bad. They look so cool on you.” You flash him an innocent smile, completely unaware of the mental anguish you’re putting the poor lovestruck boy through. “I’ll keep practicing! That way I’ll be able to draw you perfectly by the end of this project.”

His piercings? Cool? Sol’s heart genuinely can’t take this barrage. What is it about you that has him acting this way? What is it about you that makes him want to drag you away from everybody else and keep you all to himself, to worship and to love? The others around you don’t know how to fully appreciate your generosity and light, how you’re kind to everyone, even misfits like him. He’s the only one who knows how to properly care and cherish you, and he can’t let anybody else steal that role away from him. He’s spent so many sleepless nights chasing after your warmth, eating away bit by bit at the safety of the boundaries you’ve put up. 

Nothing can keep you safe from him. 

You don’t know anything about how he feels though. You’re pure and oblivious to his mental turmoil, completely unaware of the sheer effect you have on him. You keep looking at him as if he was nothing more than an eccentric classmate rather than someone you were fated to, just without your knowledge. You peer closely at his face, before lifting a delicate finger to point at his lips.

“Say Sol…,” you ask him, clearly absentmindedly based on how casual your tone is, “How do you kiss if you have lip piercings?”

…

…

…

Why did you have to ask him something like that?

Sol thinks his brain might have ceased functioning the moment you threw him that question. Nothing—absolutely nothing—has been able to reach him as he plays that memory over and over again in his head. Even the jeers of the school bullies or Hyugo’s incessant chatter couldn’t yank him out of his lovestruck reverie. Sol was on cloud nine, replaying the melodic cadence of your voice over and over and over again within his memories. He could never get sick of you or your many details. Every little bit of information he could glean from you was so precious that he could spend the rest of his life in sheer ecstasy at how perfect you were. 

Hyugo was used to it at this point and knew not to question it. But whenever Sol entered into these almost drunken stupors, it was hard for Hyugo to not worry about him a bit. Sol’s cheeks are dyed a ridiculous shade of bright red, and his hands tremble uncontrollably as he fidgets with his fingers. There’s a lopsided grin on his face, and if Hyugo really pays attention, he can make out a lovesick sigh escape the eccentric young man every now and then.

Sol just wishes he could actually peer into your mind and figure out what you thought of him! What made you ask him such a risque question? Were you interested in him? You had to be somewhat, if you initiated the partnership with him and even called his style cool… Nobody else talked about him that way. Nobody else, save for you, found him interesting. What if you had a crush on him too? Was that why you asked him about kissing? Was this your way of encouraging him to amp up his advances?

It meant that you had to be thinking about his lips. About kissing him specifically. Sol could feel his heart rate pick up dangerously again as he imagines your sweet face approaching his, closing the impossible distance between the two of you bit by bit. How many years, grueling moments, had he waited for this to take place? Maybe you’d be shy and only leave him with a quick peck to his mouth. Or maybe you’d be more gutsy and press your lips fully onto his, making out with him in a way that leaves both of you breathless and gasping for air. His heart squeezes almost painfully inside of his chest at the thought of you being so close, doing something so mundane yet so intimate, showing him a kind of romantic affection that nobody else could share with you…

He wants so badly to be the only one in your eyes. Each minute of class with you feels like torture. He wants nothing more than to close that gap. It doesn’t have to be anything big: placing his big hand on top of yours, poking your nose whenever you get distracted, all the small things that come so easily for normal couples. Kissing would just be the first step. What else could come after? There was a whole myriad of things he could dream of. He’d escort you dutifully to every single one of your classes so that everybody in this school would know that you were his. 

You’d spend more and more time together, and surely, one day you’d invite him over to your apartment that he’s secretly grown so familiar with… Just thinking about it makes his skin bristle with excitement. If everything went as planned, as easily as his daydreams made it look, then he could finally have you in the way that he wanted most.

You had to reciprocate somewhat. You just had to be interested in him as much as he was interested in you. That was what that quick question meant to him, your words construed and twisted beyond belief inside of his delusional thoughts. 

Hyugo puffs one of his cheeks out and peers at his daydreaming friend with a bit of concern. “Are you gonna eat your lunch, Sunny?”

Sol doesn’t respond at all. Hyugo sighs and shakes his head before tapping the side of Sol’s arm. 

“I asked you a question!” The shorter man points at the untouched food in Sol’s lap. Sol bristles to life, the hearts in his eyes melting away as they refocus and Hyugo enters his field of vision again. Hyugo points once again at the abandoned food and raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

Sol deadpans. If Hyugo’s presence wasn’t so convenient, he would have sent Hyugo flying to his death from the rooftop for interrupting his precious time with daydream-you. He lets Hyugo take the food before letting his mind wander again, wind blowing through his air as he wonders what you might be up to right now. Were you thinking of him too? Would you be thinking of him even when he’s not within your immediate vicinity.

He wants to see you so badly right now. He wishes he was in class again, for the first time in his life, so that he could have you right next to him and monopolize your time as he pleases. But Sol knows he has to be patient. One wrong step would have his great expectations come toppling down, and he would rather die than live in a world where he can’t have you anymore.

So he makes up his mind there and then. There was no room for hesitation. You had finally noticed him after all of his time lurking in the shadows, and these passive moments weren’t enough to satisate the brutal appetite you had awoken inside of him. He needs more. He needs more of your time. He needs more of your love. 

If you were so curious about him and his piercings, so curious about the way he kissed, then he’d make the answer as simple as it could get.

He’ll kiss you tomorrow and show you just how he does it.

x

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi i have a request! Like reader gets injured—do you know the 'do you have any ibuprofen? I got a headache' meme so thats readers injury a severe injury on the head and have all the boy toons react?

Various toons when reader gets a head injury

Max amount of characters per request is 4, sorry!!/nm

Characters: cosmo, goob, looey, astro

Notes: gn toon reader, written on mobile, post game, partly lighthearted joke post partly serious, like dark humor kinda?, short post

CWs: mentions of injury and gore (duh/lh)

COSMO

He's basically throwing cookies at you- he's hoping to god that it's enough to patch you up. Or at least to hold you over until a plan can be made...

So so so much panic- sure this isn't the first time a toon has been injured in a run but he's never wanted you to get hurt. Not like this... your current situation is on the worse side too

He doesn't even really take in your request for ibuprofen, maybe it's panic... maybe he just chalks your request up to senseless rambling caused by the nature of your injury

GOOB

Its... almost funny how he tries to hold your head together with his hands. As if that would do anything to help you... it'd probably make things worse because of how tightly he's holding you together

Wraps his arms around you... rocks you back and forth. Is it to comfort you, or himself? It's hard to tell

He starts asking everyone for ibuprofen the second you request some... even if you clearly have more than a little ache

LOOEY

When he turned around and found one of the twisteds he was distracting missing... he's obviously nervous. And it turns into horror when you casually stumble to the elevator with a chunk missing from your head

He genuinely can't tell of your request for ibuprofen is genuine or not... but regardless of if you have a history of trying to break tension he's going to be freaking out

DEMANDS everyone calls the run quits to bring you back up to treat you as best as possible. He doesn't know what to do... can a bandaid really fix this? He doesn't pick up healing items for himself... he's nearly begging everyone else to cough something up for you.. not a good time- he can't keep up his optimism :(

ASTRO

He knows he's always urging you to get some rest... but he's going to keep you awake until your condition is stabilized and sorted out

Oh he is definitely going to be taking you to sprout as soon as he's able to.. until then you're not going to be leaving his side. He's genuinely considering using his blanket to cover up the bleeding if there's no bandages on hand. It's not the best solution but it's something to slow it down.. he has more blankets anyway...

He gets this scrunched up worried look as you causally ask for ibuprofen. Yeah.. you're definitely going to sprout as soon as the elevator opens again...

[karikitdemonrp]

It did take about ten minutes for Core to come back with a hum, still clearly frazzled. "Ah, bath's ready." He chirped, moving to get Kohaku and pick the demon slayer up. "Before you protest that you can walk, I wanna carry you. So I'm gonna carry you. Also I've been kinda working on this for a while now as a sort of side project." He muttered shyly. "It's kinda like a hot spring but inside and just for us." He hummed softly. "Not the biggest but it's enough to fit us at the same time with a bit of room." Core informed with a grin, kissing Kohaku's forehead then began walking a small way from their hut.

Not too far away a new hut came into view, but it wasn't like the usual huts. It was clearly too small to live in comfortably, no room for a kitchen area and barely any room for anything aside from a few bed rolls and maybe a fire pit. However, on the inside was a large pit filled with water, upon closer inspection it was clearly a large pot that had been repurposed into a tub that was put into a large pit. Core did a decent job making this, it clearly took a while of working in secret, though it probably helped that he could use his abilities on most things.

"With you working so hard and getting hurt, I thought warm water on a more regular basis would help you relax. So I built this when you were away. I was worried you'd find it so I used my abilities to hide it as best as I could." Core's tail wagged happily as he sat Kohaku down at the entrance where there was a place to set their clothes and items to get later and some towels for the two to use after.

"There is a fire pit underneath the tub underground to keep the water warm, I'll have to add wood every so often so it doesn't get too cold. I'm still trying to figure out a better system for that. But for now it'll do." Core chirped, hoping Kohaku liked this little get away. "If you'd like I could add some herbs or something so the bath smells nice. I picked some to have a few days ago." The kitsune purred softly, moving to start getting undressed slowly in front of Kohaku, once again trying to give the demon slayer a show like earlier. This time, because he was in a good mood, he looked a bit more flirtatious. Still nervous and shy, but not as much.

Kohaku watched Core rush off, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned back, resting his weight on his hands. “A bit of a show, huh?” he murmured to himself, his grin widening. “You really are adorable, Core.” The blush on the kitsune’s face was burned into his mind, and Kohaku’s heart fluttered at the thought of Core being so flustered for him.

He’d been about to suggest going down to the river, letting the cool waters wash away the grime of the day. But it seemed Core had something a bit more luxurious in mind. The demon slayer couldn’t help but feel a bit spoiled, a warmth spreading through his chest at how dedicated Core was to taking care of him.

Kohaku fell quiet, his playful teasing subsiding as he thought about how far they’d come. He was always the one on the move, always fighting, always pushing through pain. But Core made him slow down, made him feel safe enough to take a moment to rest. It was nice.

He looked around the hut, eyes lingering on the things that had become so familiar. This was home. Not just because of the four walls, but because of the person who occupied it with him.

“Guess he’s in a pampering mood today,” Kohaku muttered with a small smile, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned back further. He knew even with magic it would take Core a bit to get everything just right. The kitsune was nothing if not meticulous.

So, Kohaku waited, his heart steady and his mind calm. He knew Core would come back soon enough, probably fretting over him again. The thought was comforting, and he closed his eyes, letting himself soak in the feeling of being cared for.

[archivalofsins]

I'm doing Mikoto and Amane together since Amane's thing is just a reiteration of what was said with Shidou and Mahiru,

So, let's start with Amane,

"Prisoner No. 008: Amane Momose. Your judgement was “innocent”, and as such, her ideas were affirmed. Hehehe, she truly did outdo herself, really messed with the situation. She murdered Shidou because his actions went against her beliefs. Because of the death of Shidou, she also caused the death of Mahiru. What a little brat we’ve got! Maybe that’s the reason for her success. She’s even promulgated her religious views. We could even call it, Amane-ism, this religion she’s created. It’s perfectly suited to MILGRAM. She’s successfully made Futa a believer. So, what will you do now, Es?"

I love how Jackalope states that Amane's new religion is perfectly suited for Milgram. Because sir what? It is? That makes me really curious about what her religion entails for Jackalope to make such a bold claim.

The commencement notice is also harping on how much damage Amane has caused and continuing the trend of displaying her as a threat. Jackalope keeps this same energy with Mikoto as well. Now one could say they're doing this in order to pull the rug from beneath our feet later but I doubt it.

This is the last trial through how Jackalope discussed the deaths of Haruka, Shidou, and Mahiru it seems Milgram is diving right in to how all of the audiences assumptions and shows of good faith have enabled the situation it currently finds itself is. It is tempting to double down but ultimately what the prisoners do with the lives they live are their business and we can't stop anyone in fiction or in reality from living how they wish to live.

Unless one were to stop them from living entirely. Now I'm not going to highroad anyway and say it's important to be the bigger person and live and let live. That would be disingenuous. I have no defense for Amane killing Shidou other than the fact that I don't particularly care that she did that because she told us she was going to do that and I voted with that outcome in mind.

I know shocking some people do choose how they're going to vote while taking into full consideration the consequences making that statement can have. Instead of coming up with a myriad of excuses later when it doesn't go the way they want because they just couldn't fearmonger hard enough or hold a fictional characters life over other people's heads well enough.

Sometimes and most times people should before they give their input reflect on how helpful that might be to the person they are giving the input to or themselves. Possibly reflect on if saying anything at all is the right course of action for them personally. Simply so they don't end up doing something that they can't take back and will regret.

I'm not going to do mental gymnastics to defend the murder of a fictional character who was also a murderer or excuse the deaths of those characters. I'm just gonna do what's the best thing for me personally which is vote and behave how I want to in my best interests until this ends.

Amane isn't the first person to attack someone within this prison. She won't be the last sure her attack was the only one that killed someone causing the death of another involved party in the process. Yet I'm pretty sure a lot of people don't care about the details of how the second death occurred and will take this caused Mahiru's death as Milgram stating Amane went up and stabbed Mahiru too.

See look that middle-schooler is evil and should be burned at the stake on some Backdraft shit,

Count me out I'm not dealing with that energy in 2025 if that's how some people want to spend their time behaving I hope it works out for them. I hope that brings them joy but that is not how I want to spend the last trial of Milgram. A lot of people in this fandom need to mature and recognize that they are not just a safe space for others simply because they say they are.

Also that maybe harping on the youngest person here for being a bad individual who committed murder like everyone else here then going in other cases that's a minor is odd. It's weird. That makes some people some weirdos. I'm sick of hearing about this hat girl and Mu's case where people bring age constantly but then dogpile on someone younger than both of those people. Simply because her bad actions actually impacted them.

Because they lost something from it. It doesn't matter that everyone else here has killed someone. Has also killed kids and admitted from day one. Because those victims don't exist in the eyes of the audience as people so they don't matter. Their lives don't matter because they aren't characters who entertained the audience that the audience grew attached to.

Those characters are just side characters nameless faceless unimportant dead side characters. They are just bodies to set the scene. Speaking of which let's go into Mikoto now.

Let me tell you they learned from last trial on showing more than two of these guys with how the fandom tried to spin that. Because they flipped that bitch like a coin they are not playing anymore.

They split that first one in half and turned that shit over. The front and the backside is right.

"Prisoner No. 009: Mikoto Kayano. Your judgement was “innocent”, and as such, his ideas were affirmed. Hmmm...... What a change from before, so coy! Such a disappointment! I was thinking he’d show us another rampage. It is so boring when one has to go without.... He’s like a shell of a person. He’s been found “innocent”, even after butchering all those people. Doesn’t it make him happy? I wonder why? Maybe he lost something precious?"

"Why, hey why, I’m nowhere to be found?"/ "Just the two of us, relieved, aren’t you? I’ll protect you (us)."

Mikoto Voice Line 3

Mikoto: It’s like something’s disappeared from inside me, and I’m… I’m scared. I’m tired. I just want this to stop. All of it.

"He’s like a shell of a person."

Mikoto Voice Line 1

Mikoto: Kayano Mikoto. I think. That’s who I am, right…?"

"I’m DOUBLE (MeMe)."

Mikoto Voice Line 1 continued,

Mikoto: Ahaha, you’re probably wondering what I’m talking about."

So, I'm downright loving this to be honest.

"I wonder why?"/ "Why?"

"I just want this to stop. All of it."

Fuck it let's do Kotoko too,

"Prisoner No. 010: Kotoko Yuzuriha. Your judgement was “guilty”, and as such, her ideas were rejected. There, you see? I made sure she’s carefully constrained so she wouldn’t wreck havoc. Your fangs... her vigilante justice wasn’t imparted, right? What? Are things different now? It almost makes me feel sorry for her, being at the mercy of your whims...... Obviously, she now views you as her enemy. Don’t think for a moment that you can now communicate with her effectively. "

"But, I must say, the current situation within this prison is directly influenced by the fact that she was once found “innocent”. "

"Evil done against evil, can that ever be justified......? Go on and settle the matter to your satisfaction."

In all things Jackalope remains fair I said it earlier while watching through the video still and I'm glad he hit the nail on the head. The first domino that lead to all of this was Kotoko. All from those first verdicts. It didn't hit us fully until we were almost at the end of the road but the repercussions for everything the audience has said, all its enabled, all it was able to turn a blind eye to.

It's all coming back around now.

"......hehehe. I did tell you, MILGRAM allows for sensibility, morality, ethics, legality, preference, taste, or sexual inclination as the basis for judgement. You really did act in accordance with that. That makes me so happy. And the result is this. Take a look at the prison. What do you think, Es? Do you think you’ve been able to carry out your standards within this prison?"

"Can you really say that you were able to find “innocent” the ones you truly wanted to forgive, and find “guilty” the ones you truly wanted to punish? What? It’s not something to shy away from. Take pride! This is your prison, those feelings that you carry and all."

This prison will happen just once, and it was chosen by you all. If it wasn’t for all of you, the results would have been different, I’m sure. Well now, is it not just beautiful, Es?"

Jackalope and Milgram once again showcasing if the audience and Es did not engage the situation would have been different.

"I am just enthralled by this prison that you all have created. Teeheehee...... hehehe...... Let us now enjoy MILGRAM until it’s finale together, shall we?"

I would be remiss to not point out this looks similar to the light we see in Double at 1:48,

To touch on Jackalope's question real quick,

"Can you really say that you were able to find “innocent” the ones you truly wanted to forgive, and find “guilty” the ones you truly wanted to punish?"

I can't say for certain if there was one right answer for any of the prisoners. However I can say through everything in Milgram I made the decisions I believed in wholeheartedly. Regardless of if they lead to the outcome I wanted or not is irrelevant. I am happy to have been able to have enjoyed and been involved with this once in a lifetime media experience.

I don't know how it will resolve of course and I have been let down in some regards but would I say I regret being involved with it at all at this point? No. I will continue to enjoy the prisoners being the most of themselves until Milgram draws to a close those that are still here now and those that are no longer here.

But I didn't like the subtle implication that the prisoners were dead or going to die before this occurred. Mostly because why even have us vote on any of this at this point. Furthering that implication just makes it feel like a non-issue. I'm also just not particularly interested in stories with that sort of twist. When stories have done things like they were dead from the start or not real twists I just feel like it's taken away the weight of certain points retroactively.

Since from the beginning we were told to vote as though we were choosing whether to let them back into society or not I always liked that framing more. That sort of plot point would really make me go so the deaths in Milgram don't matter and should not impact the decisions on the prisoners still here because they're all dead anyhow so what's the point on harping how they died a second time.

You get what I mean. If it is that I'll be disappointed like with Mahiru but if it is that then no one can really hold anyone dying within Milgram over anybody else's head because they were all dead when they got here at that point. So, what does it matter?

There's a time in the commencement notice when Jackalope is speaking of Mahiru that implies this,

"Well now, don’t get down on yourself. As I’ve said many times, they are all already goners. It’s not a huge point of concern whether they live here or not."

Along with this imagery as well,

Though it doesn't have to mean that it did make my ears perk up. Because there's two ways this go they could all be dead which would be boring for me. Or like the ending implies they are all about to die regardless. Because the ending of the commencement notice shuffles through scenes from milgram with all the characters taken out of them.

So maybe regardless of the last trial verdicts the prisoners are still slated to be executed which would explain why Jackalope is being so flippant about the deaths. As well as why there was no new point added onto this trial. He didn't say if you vote them guilty they're gonna die and if you vote them innocent we'll spare them. No talk on how it would impact things after this just said well let's enjoy it before it's all,

Over,

"Let us now enjoy MILGRAM until it’s finale together, shall we?"

[Route: Your (Curtain) Call]

For all of them.

"They are all already goners."

Side note this thumbnail was sick as hell he looks so mad~ But he's so thrilled in the video.

[kerink]

I hope it’s okay to just drop some thoughts I was having about Dipper and Stan for your au here! I was just thinking about them isolated in that little apartment and how I’m sure they weren’t provided with any like entertainment. I think it would be a really rough adjustment for dipper who would want to immediately be working on an escape plan. But I think Stan would probably be the best equipped of the family to handle the situation. He’s been to jail and eaten his way out of the trunk of a car. Like, he’d know how to plan escapes under a warden’s nose and keep himself somewhat entertained in the process. I think they’d argue at first but eventually dipper would realize that Stan is also trying to help them escape, he’s just going about it more subtly.

To pass the time maybe they play games that don’t need too many pieces for. Maybe dipper comes up with like an augmented D&D&MD that’s mostly verbal or maybe Stan gets his hands on some cards. They’d probably feel guilty if they start having too much fun though.

I know they are being watched but Bill is distracted by other things so maybe they can get away with a little more than the others, especially if they play up giving up. But it’s a real panopticon situation. They could come up with some kind of code that they can communicate through the games they play. Like playing a certain card means something or they use the plots of D&D&MD to talk about what’s going on in real life.

Thanks for letting me ramble and for making this au it’s so fun!

i seriously love this!

i was also thinking about what they could do for fun too, and was thinking about stan trying to teach dipper to box lol not just because it's something they can do and it fits in with stan and dipper's existing relationship arc, but also because it calls back to dipper's previous character development: him thinking he's useless without the journals, but once gideon kidnaps mabel he's like i don't need magic i can just beat your ass. so dipper already knows the value in having a good left hook, knowing he can be smart and strong, cunning and violent.

i love stan seeming like he's flippant, like he's given up, like he doesn't care about what's going on when it's really just a facade he's putting on to keep everyone calm and relaxed. he's trying to be the stable rock the kids and ford can cling to. stan believing there isn't much he can practically contribute in this situation, so settling for the emotional home base, the place where busy minds can rest.

but i hadn't even considered what you said about stan having been to jail before and how that would impact him. it's sooo incredible it has me feeling a bit crazy. because you're RIGHT. he knows what it's like to sit in a box and stare at a wall. he knows what it's like to play verbal chess with a mob boss. he knows what it's like to be two-faced with an unjust warden. as much as ford is teaching mabel to steel her heart and have a poker face and dance along with bills game, stan can teach dipper the exact same thing

[spillthepuckingtea]

Hi sorry if this is a tad bit long, but

Toxic relationship anon here, so this is how I see this relationship with Sammy and Jack: in the beginning it most definitely was good, and you could tell at family skate he was happy and he genuinely looked happy, but after he got his shoulder surgery he was in a very vulnerable place and his mental and emotional health wasn’t the best, and Sammy knew that and took advantage of it, and in a way he feels like he owed it to her to at least try a relationship. Being in a toxic relationship with a manipulative narcissist is not easy, they gas light you so much and you don’t even realize it because it’s normal behavior. They blame you for fights and anything they can to not take blame theirselves. You’re friends and family can tell you they don’t like the person and they aren’t good for you because you see someone different than they do, you don’t see the toxic manipulative things they are doing to keep you around , because around you they are a totally different person. A person you think you’re happy with and a person you love . When reality they are the complete opposite.. they make you feel insecure no matter what it is but you don’t see it as that. They will make your confidence shit. But once again you don’t see it as that because you have rose colored glasses on and a part of you chooses to believe they aren’t a bad person but they belittle you like no other and you just go through a toxic cycle. Until you for yourself see someone for their true colors and intentions no one can convince you to leave the relationship.. your friends and family are going to be civil for your sake but they don’t like your relationship and how you’re treated . I finally for myself saw after 2 years, he wasn’t good enough for me and I was worth so much more.. with that being said Jack most definitely had rose colored glasses on , but I believe he’s slowly but surely figuring out the relationship isn’t what he thought it would be. He felt like he owed it to her, but to him it was never going to be anything long lasting.. I think he’s finally seeing her toxic behavior and her intentions. And maybe he’s a routine guy and doesn’t want cause more problems before playoffs so he’s waiting the relationship out… but him not getting her a wag jacket and not publicly claiming her is one thing I most definitely took notice of, because I was a wag in that relationship and he always made sure I had a jacket or whatever was made for said games.. so for him not to do that really speaks volumes… and just his playing lately has not been the potential of him as a player; people don’t realize when you’re in a toxic relationship it does affect your everyday life even if you try and not let it; and I think he’s going to notice that eventually.. I know everyone wants this relationship to end, but believe me he will get tired of the toxic behavior eventually… if you have any questions I’ll be happy to answer them ❤️

first off I’m sorry you even know any of this. It’s something that nobody should go through. What causes me the slightest bit of hope is that he did not get her a jacket which like you said speaks volumes it shows that slowly he’s starting to realize that she is not in this relationship for the right reasons and I don’t like to call people, toxic, or manipulative when I don’t know them, but all the signs are pointing to that because what kind of dies a human being goes for the brother of the guy that rejected you to spite him. I just hope he starts playing like he used to because I know when he’s back on his grind it’s gonna help so much with his internal turmoil and his confidence that he might actually have the confidence to realize what’s going on.

[tech-luver]

A little drabble that was very much inspired by the love at first sight with mer!drift by @ blueraspberryrodimus

Pining transformers always get to me and Drift can pine with the best of 'em. He really likes convincing himself that you could never love him.

Warnings: angsty but only cuz Drift is being dramatic

The longing was beginning to engulf him, make him take risker moves to get close to you. Last week he had worked up the courage to float under the dock right beneath you and try to catch the title of your latest read. Four days ago you had dropped a pen and warmed his spark the next day at your pleased gasp, surprised when it had appeared where you normally sat. He wondered if you puzzled over the light blue scrap of cloth tied around it or the Old Cybertronian he had shakily carved into the side, large servos trying not to fumble the tiny pen. Two days ago he had almost reached out to graze your ankle idly kicking in the swelling of waves, before realising how awful of an idea that would be. He wanted to woo you, not creep you out so you never return to these docks again.

The thought made his spark clench as he peeks around a strut and glances at the dark blob of your body, where you block light from reaching through the boardwalk slats. Your mass shifts and he ducks underneath the surface on instinct, helm falling into his servos at the battle raging inside of him. Get closer to you with the risk of scaring you away or stay underneath this pier and keep watching you read before you get bored and pick somewhere else to relax.

You would leave either way, one part of him said, so why not get one final closer look? He exvents and rises back to the surface, droplets sliding down his faceplate as he hears you turn another page. His tank churns, risk wasn't his thing, it was Roddy's, but to let you slip away without even a good look would break his spark. So, Drift made a plan, he would quietly pull his upper body onto the dock behind you when he knew you were absorbed in your book, admire you for a bit and slip away, maybe quenching this awful yet brilliant pull in his spark. Maybe enough so never seeing you again won't leave a burning ache.

He glances at your blob and eyes the land for any nosy humans before stretching his servos into a slow reach towards the ledge. He tests how much force he will need, if the dock will creak or even be able to support his weight, maybe using the strut would be better?

Servos adjust and audials strain for sounds of movement from you or the dock and there are moments where he freezes at the shifting of wood. It is a slow process but the thought of getting to see you up close, more than just carefully distanced glimpses, keeps him going.

The clink of Drift's chassis against the pier is lost in the hush of waves and he can't help the growing smile on his faceplate as he settles into his crossed arms.

There you are.

The setting sun paints a golden light down one side of you, highlighting that…hair? He had listened in on Hound's enthusiastic conversations about humans once, the way they differed from Cybertronians, and he had said something about hair.

All of this organic stuff was new to him but Primus would he try, he was trying, practicing running his digits through sea grass to see how gentle he would need to be for your strands. He wanted to know how you feel, your clothes that sway in the gentle breeze, your skin that glows in the evening light, your hair that waves to call him closer. There were parts of you he wanted to know more of like the sound of your voice! Gasps, huffs, chuckles, the occasional comment were all he got, he wondered what you sounded like laughing.

Oh and your eyes, he barely knew those, the way they sparkled in the evening light and contained such depths of colour none of his kind had. He tried to memorise them, pick apart all those shades and their Spectralist meaning, hoping one links to sparkmates or love. Now they were widening, showing more of that pearly white and telling him you were…

You were looking at him. Shocked. Scared.

Drift throws himself off of the dock, chassis scratching the wood as he tumbles into the water and darts away, spiralling down into the comforting darkness, the only thing that would welcome him.

He had ruined it, but he knew that wasn't going to stop him from returning to that dock every day, imagining that quiet time with you, again and again.

[one-lucky-day]

What do you think would’ve happened if sangwoo actually went home with gihun? What do you think their relationship would be like after everything they've been through?

Hi, anon. Thanks for the ask! I have so much feelings about Sangihun and the most prominant one is just me wondering WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN!

And here's my headcanon for that:

I don't think their relationship would go back to the way it was before, but I am hopeful that once they work through all their issues, their bond will be stronger. They have seen the worst in each other, and the only way forward is by finding the best in each other. I think Gi-hun would choose to forgive Sang-woo for everything he's done because Sang-woo needs him, and Gi-hun is the type of person to set aside his own feelings for the sake of others' well-being.

I also think they would still have their own trauma to deal with. Gi-hun with his PTSD and Sang-woo with his suicidal tendencies. They would help each other through it, but their respective issues wouldn't be immediately fixed by one another. As it says in Heartstopper, "Love can't cure mental illness." The only thing they can do is be there for each other and offer support when things get tough.

They would also face external problems, like their debt, but I think they could work through it. Sang-woo knows the system, so he would be able to figure out a loophole to keep himself out of jail and save his mom's house. He could negotiate a plea deal, offer to cooperate in an investigation, or use his knowledge of high-level financial corruption as leverage.

Gi-hun is resourceful and adaptable, so he would find a way to keep the loan sharks from coming after him. Maybe he would offer to work for them, becoming their errand boy. We know that Mr. Kim would eventually warm up to Gi-hun, and while money plays a part in that, it's not hard to imagine that Gi-hun's personality also plays a role. He knows how to break down people's walls, so it wouldn't be difficult for him to get on his loan shark's good side.

With a proper plan, they would be able to figure out a way to manage their financial issues.

All in all, I think the two of them would be fine. They're both smart, they're both strong, and most importantly, they would have each other.

[strangetomato]

Mental Health Update

I thought I would update on my mental health, since I've done so quite a bit here over the years.

As I mentioned before, its been over 5 years since I've been symptomatic. That's huge. I take an arsenal of medication, and I'm going to keep that just the way it is.

I try to keep up with the lifestyle stuff, too. Sleeping (I think it's the #1 mental health thing), exercising, and eating (not the best at this, but trying). I still attend a peer support group almost every week. My best friend does as well. We met there, and we both attend it like its church to us (for me, it feels that way--sidenote: I was raised in a very religious family, and I'm now thoroughly and extremely "non-religious").

Since my wonderful psychiatrist moved away, I have floundered around. I was referred to one who I will describe as simply "vile" and leave it at that. Her takes on adhd and autism were atrocious, and she was both belittling and beligerent. After that, I kept agitating my family doctor for another referral, perhaps in a neighbouring town. Finally, this worked.

This new psychiatrist was okay. He seemed amused that I was there to see him proactively, without any crisis, but I think that speaks to our struggling mental healthcare system. There was a moment where he mansplained (doctorsplained?) mania and hypomania to me, as if I havent been doing this for 25+ years, but I listened politely. I did like his distinction that the only real difference is that with hypomania you can continue to function. Yeah, I've gone on some wild rides (especially in my 20s), but ultimately I have kept it on the rails.

He also said that bipolar depression is somewhat different from unipolar depression. He said it's a lot worse. And the suicidality is a big part of that. And maybe it's in the contrast. There's something so desperately evil about plunging from euphoria to suicidal all in the span of a day or two, sometimes mere hours. And every time you cycle it gets just a little worse.

Fortunately, once you finally bring the wheel to a stop, your brain starts to right itself, too.

This psych also stated that lithium treats suicidal ideation. Since my wonderful former psychiatrist had brought this to my attention, when nobody else ever did, I feel I can trust this guy, too.

If I need him, that is. I'm being proactive. I need to know I have someone competent on the line if/when I need it.

So that's it. I'm doing well. I'm very much "in recovery" because I know that if I stopped my meds, it would knock me over with how fast it would all come rushing back in. But I'm okay with that.

Anyway, hope you are having a good day. I hope you are taking care of yourself, and if you are struggling, keep fighting. There is always hope.

[adventuresofanunrulygirl]

@radfemcroatia Thank you, YES! I am extremely sick of that argument too. Men have behaved the same way across the millenia and in all cultures of the world, even back when those cultures had no interaction with each other. It has to be partly biological, and socialization has to come from somewhere. I believe many radfems use the "saying it's at all biological absolves them of responsibility" argument so they can futilely hold onto hope that men can become better if they're socialized properly, and what evidence is there of that? To the contrary, we see that males are raised primarily by women right up until adulthood and come out the same way in every single society: violent, predatory trash. There is something in them that WANTS to victimize everything in their path, especially females.

I don't reject obvious deductions based on their "implications" anyway. If the evidence points to a logical conclusion, that's where I'm following it. When better telescopes began to come out and we discovered other solar systems, we didn't say "Well if we have to acknowledge that our sun and our galaxy isn't the largest, then it implies that we aren't the center of the Universe - so we're just going to pretend those things don't exist because the alternative is uncomfortable for us." (Some people may have said that, but we recognize how backward that way of thinking is.) Rejecting evidence because of "what it implies" is medieval, unintelligent, and dishonest. I refuse to go through life that way.

It doesn't absolve men one bit to say that they have biological tendencies toward abusive, sexually perverse behavior. Even people who reasonably could be said not to be able to help their toxic condition - diagnosed psychopaths, for example - are held responsible for their actions. We see them and recognize a pattern in their behavior, and we warn people that they're not going to change and to keep your distance because they're very dangerous people. Most men aren't diagnosed psychopaths, so why wouldn't we hold them responsible as well? Both the average male and the psycho have restraint. They calculate how and when to victimize someone. Of COURSE they have free will and are responsible for their actions. But it doesn't change that they're evil, and whining about what it would mean if we acknowledged that maybe there's something about BEING an XY that's at the bottom of these inclinations just keeps women from accepting that men are best left alone.

I made a post about how males are aligned with demonic energy (meaning their behavior is demonic; it veers toward destruction, sexual perversion, and all things hurtful and evil) and that they're barely human, and I even got a reblog on that saying that I was absolving men. 🤣 It feels like it's the favorite pet rebuttal of many radfems when we get very real about how deeply rooted men's evil is.

[randomrambles3nonsenseetc]

Lukola; 'like sands through the hourglass, these are the days of our lives'

Its turning into a soap opera from the 80s. I love it 🤪🥰

I've been quiet and just looking at what others post and the types of comments on posts because people can be downright cruel and mean and im not interested in engaging with any of that. Most of the shipping and comments have been positive so I'm being brave and sharing my take. mostly because after the SAG awards, it has become far too entertaining and halirious and I'm here for all of it.

I've been firmly seated on the viewing deck of the SS Lukola, probably since the beginning of the PR tour early last year. I just keep topping up my cocktail and hold on to my deck chair when they try to steer the ship into a storm. I like storms, I thrive in chaos. I have had a moment or two where I've almost gone inside to the restaurant, but each time I take a breath, waited for those that analyse and research to post their findings and I secure myself back on the deck chair.

It also helps that I'm in Australia and usually asleep when the waves get high. By the time I've woken up or had a minute during a busy work day to check in the storm has settled or passed.

After trying to catch up on all the chaos from the SAG awards, I'm feeling a little drunk. Its been delightful, amusing, halirious and filled my pessimistic little heart with hope.

Perhaps its time to put the cocktails down and sip something non alcoholic, because I get the feeling that the high we're all riding may rock the boat in to a mild storm to try and divert the increased attention they're getting. ..or perhaps they'll pleasantly surprise us by docking the boat in some beautiful tropical bay and give us a little more of the truth... wouldn't that be delightful!

My interest started out as admiration for Luke and Nic's (and most of Bridgerton cast) acting skills and the magical chemistry portrayed by Luke and Nic on the show that quickly turned into a huge appreciation for their natural charisma and chemistry during PR, especially on the world tour... that also amplified the oh so obvious and natural chemistry, attraction, spark, electricity they have with each other that was for those not blind, in our faces during the WT.

Individually they seem like lovely people and good at their craft but together, they are a powerhouse. It reminds me of the scene in Stardust where the boy hugs the girl, the star, and she shines so bright enveloped by each others love that they implode and break the spell of the witches and become 'stardust'.

That is what Lukola remind me of.

They are stardust.

Shining brightly with and for each other but also on the world and oh what an absolute delight for those of us who see it.

While no one knows the truth of what exactly is going on between Luke and Nic behind the scenes and in their very private personal lives, what we have seen and the delicious crumbs they have given us to view, review and analyse, assuredly, fervently, loudly declare that there is more going on than have openly said, in my opinion.

Anyway, c'mon, the hugs, the smiles, they way they look at each other, their entire beings light up when they're together. I've watched enough clips of them to see that they have a type of intimate communication or secret language with each other, in interviews they use words and phrases denoting them as a pair, a couple "us", "we", "our". They unconsciously mimic or mirror each other.. everyone on the ship knows and sees this...

I don't know about the speculated bundle of joy, possibly delivered by golden stork earlier this month. In my mind, some things point to obviously, some things say hmm maybe andnother things have me questioning my eyesight and sanity... so I don't know.

What I do believe is their relationship goes way beyond "just" friends, in my personal opinion. I have never in my life seen good or best friends interact the way they do. Its also incredibly rare to see two people have the type of connection they seem to have, and again while we don't know the truth, my eyes, my heart, my intuition and my analytical observations say there is something more.

I'm so thankful to those fans and shippers that have the time, knowledge and skills to do all the analysing and sharing, including from other platforms because I dont have the time or know how to do that and the SS Lukola journey has kept me entertained and hopeful through some challenging life shit.

What I do know, being an empath and a pretty good observer and critical thinker is that there IS something more going on than what they are outright telling us.

Yes, the crumbs and clues are delightful and Nic herself has said she loves the drama of reality TV. So I wonder if part of their plan to divert or distract has been to some extent to purposely amplify the drama with the other people who have been bought in? Which hasn't necessarily had the desired or intended effect and is why perhaps they keep popping their heads up like little mere cats or that arcade game where you have to hit the crocodile heads to win. Lol that image just makes me laugh. And im not gonna be mean... but the analogy kinds fits, teehehehe.

Going back to being serious... Im saddened and disgusted by people who have made horrible comments about the other people involved in this game. We may not like them or agree with dissenting views on the how's and why's and wherefor's, but there is no need to stoop to their level and spit out hateful, unkind, derogatory comments... they are, at the end of the day also human beings, doing what they think is best for themselves. That might include some kind of legal arrangement or other type of reciprocal arrangement or wild card arrangement or it could be a much simpler answer.

Im not condoning their actions, I'm just saying they're human. At the very least, just ignore them and the dissenters and let's continue to enjoy the trip on the ship and sail on past.

We won't know the truth until Luke and Nic or someone from their team/s directly makes a statement.

Until a statement comes directly from them or their tem/s I'll keep my seat on the ship. Even if their statement isn't what I wanted, I'll still have a reserved ticket because I think they're end game...for eternity. Their souls are like North and south of the stardust that binds them together and makes them shine even brighter when they're together.

For those on the ship, its been a bloody brilliant trip so far. Full of wild twists and turns, some big waves and storms, and beautiful calm seas and almost crystal clear waters... whatever happens next I'm locked in and intrigued to see where the ship goes next.

Im also open to being proven completely wrong and watching the ship hit a deep sand bar and run aground, forcing everyone to disembark into the wet and sandy shores as we wipe our tears and drag our luggage behind us.

But ha! I don't think we're wrong!

I hope and pray to the universe, the gods, guardian angels, greater universal power that the magical stardust from the etherial connection and effervescent energy they exude with each other and on the the world is as true and real as we all feel and believe it to be. I hope their light and love will continue to strengthen as they feel safe and confident in themselves, their careers and their relationship to share more of their truth with the world and that we, the fans and shippers are respectful of their privacy and give them some space to just BE.

Full steam ahead captain!

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 18

Author's note: And we've made it to the end ☹️ I hope you've enjoyed Inés and Pedri's love story, and as always, thank you very much for reading! 💜

Previous chapter

Masterlist

“Inés, the boss wants to see you.”

“Me? Now?” 

“Yes, once you've showered and gotten dressed. He'll be waiting for you in his office.”

“I… Ok” I nod. 

“What was that about?” Carla asks me as we watch the staff member leave the changing room.

“I don't know… I haven't done anything wrong, have I? Like, I know today I was late for training, but so were others because of how bad the traffic was.”

“Him the first one” she says. “Maybe he wants to congratulate you because of how well you've been playing all these months?”

“Has he ever done that with anyone else?”

“I don't know” Carla says. “But I'm sure it is nothing important.”

“I hope so. Things are going so well…” I sigh.

And not only with football, where I've kept playing at my best and gotten to be player of the match a few more times, one of them during one of our toughest Champions League games.

After finally talking with Pedri and telling each other everything we needed and had to tell each other (or almost because I still haven't been able to tell him I love you back), we've been living on cloud nine, and everything is so perfect that at times I cringe at ourselves because of how cheesy we are. But we are happy, in love, and finally together after years or being simply stupid, so… you know. 

But besides that, things with my parents and my sisters have improved too. I don't know what has happened, but since Christmas it is not just Jules checking on me after a game. Now all of them text me or call me, and they've actually been at a couple of games. My dad has been at some home games here in Barcelona with his girlfriend Minerva (who has become my number one fan), and my mum and Matt went to watch me in London when we played against Arsenal in the Champions League. That is the game where I was named player of the match, and now my mum proudly has the little trophy in her living room next to my first official photo with Barcelona's first team for everyone to see. 

And when it comes to my sisters, Irene has already started to plan her wedding (she isn't getting married until the next spring but apparently starting to plan things now is late), and I am going to be one of her bridesmaids. She came over to visit me one day by surprise (or maybe not so much, because that day I had a date with Pedri and he had canceled last minute with the excuse of Mario being sick and wanting to keep an eye on him), took me out for lunch just the two of us, and asked me if I wanted to be her bridesmaid, gifting me the cutest bracelet when I said yes and promising that I would wear a dress I like and am comfortable with as long as she can pick the colour.

And Ingrid… Well, she's Ingrid. She's texted me a couple of times asking me if some of my teammates are single, which means that she at least knows the team I play for, something I've always suspected she had no idea. Until now.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Are you home alone?”

“Hello to you too, Inés” Pedri chuckles.

“Yes, hi. Are you alone or not?” 

“I am. Mario is…” But I don't let him say anything else. I just throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him, closing the door of his apartment with my foot. “Woah” he laughs when we break apart to catch our breaths. “What did I do to deserve a kiss like that?”

“We are celebrating.”

“Are we?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Yep” I nod. “Because I got the best news ever, Pedri. Like… I still can't believe this is happening. I've been dreaming about it since I started playing football.”

“Are you signing for Real Madrid?” he says with a teasing smile.

“Idiot” I reply, rolling my eyes. “But I will actually be playing with some Real Madrid girls.”

“What?”

“I've been called up, Pedri. I've been called up by the senior national team for the first time!”

“No!” he gasps.

“Yes!”

“No!” he says again, raising his voice.

“Yes!” I repeat doing the same.

“Oh my God, Inés. Oh… my… God!” 

“Pedri!” I laugh when he lifts me in the air and starts spinning us.

This was the reason why my manager had called me to his office earlier today. He had gotten a call from Spain's manager asking about me because they wanted me to be part of the team during the next international break. Me… playing for the national team. Can you believe it? Because I still can't. I still feel like any moment now I am gonna wake up and that it all has been just a dream. 

“This is fucking amazing, Inés” he says when he finally puts me down. “Like… aaahhh!”

“You are gonna break me in half if you keep squeezing me like that” I laugh.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But ugh, Inés. This… I… I am so proud of you, Inés. So fucking proud” he says before kissing me, my heart threatening to burst inside my chest after hearing his words. 

“And there is more.”

“More?”

“During this international break there will be two games, one home and one away. Guess where we are playing the home one.”

“Here in Barcelona?” 

“Cold.”

“Cold because it is somewhere with that weather or because my guess was too bad?” he asks.

“Tenerife” I smile.

“What?”

“We are playing in Tenerife, Pedri. I will probably play my first international game with the senior team in Tenerife. In your hometown.”

“Wait, really?”

“Really.”

“Oh my God, Inés!” he says before spinning us again.

“You are gonna make me dizzy, Pedri!” I laugh. “And if we are dizzy, you are not gonna be able to show me how proud of me you are” I smirk when he puts me down.

“True…” he replies with a matching smile. “Do you have anything in mind?” 

“I do have a few ideas, yes. But we'll be more comfortable in your room to do them than here.”

“I see… Is that why you asked me if I was home alone?”

“Maybe” I shrug. 

“You are such a naughty girl, Inés” he whispers, the way he looks at me while saying it making my knees feel weak. “Let's go.”

“Pedri!” I laugh when he lifts me in the air again. But this time he is carrying me in his arms as he walks us towards his room, something that is very welcomed if we keep in mind the way my legs were feeling a second ago.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Inés… Inés, are you laughing?”

“No.”

“Then why can I feel your stomach moving under my kisses?” Pedri says, moving up and now kissing me between my boobs.

“That's called breathing, Pedri.”

“That's called laughing, Inés. I just ate you out…” he says, biting one of my nipples and making me gasp. “And you are laughing” he says, doing the same on the other.

“I'm not laughing” I manage to say.

“You are” he whispers when he makes it to my mouth, now biting my lower lip before kissing me. “See? You are laughing!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” I say, trying to stop my giggles. “But I'm just… happy.”

“That usually is what you feel after having an orgasm, yes.”

“Idiot” I say, hitting his arm. “But it's true. I'm happy. I'm really happy.”

“Because of the call up?” he says, caressing my temple and gently putting away some locks of hair. “Is that making you feel so happy that you are laughing while having sex with your boyfriend?”

“Pedri!” I say, now pinching his arm but only managing to make him laugh. “But that's the main reason, yes. Though if I'm being completely honest, I'm happy because of everything in my life right now. My football career, the way my studies are going, the relationship with my family, with my friends… You… Us…”

“Do I make you happy?” he says, now caressing my cheek.

“The happiest. I… I love you, Pedri.”

Boom! There, she said it!

“I love you too, Inés” he smiles before kissing me. And maybe I am exaggerating a bit (or a lot), but that is the fucking best kiss of my entire life. Like… the way it has made me feel… Wow. Just wow. “I love you” he whispers before kissing my jaw. “I fucking love you, Inés” he keeps saying as he kisses, touches and caresses me everywhere. 

And he keeps whispering those three magical words, sometimes adding my name, sometimes another word (may have moaned just be hearing “I bloody love you”), as we become one, as we melt into each other. And if that kiss from earlier was the best of my life, the way we just made love... I know I don't have anything to compare it to since he is the only guy I've been with, but we've made love before. For example, that's what we did the first time we slept together. And none of those times have felt like this. 

None of those times I've felt real love. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

I'm on my way.

That's what Pedri's last message said, that he was on his way to the hotel where I am staying with the national team in Tenerife. But that was twenty minutes ago, and he still hasn't shown up, so I am obviously starting to worry. One, because I only have an hour to meet with him and his family before having to go back with the team, and two because… what if something has happened to them? What if they weren't allowed to close the bar and they aren't coming? What if…

“Inés!” a familiar voice says behind me, stopping me from imagining the worst scenarios you could think of.

“Fer, finally!” I sigh. “Where were you?”

“Uh?” he says, giving me a hug.

“Pedri texted me saying that you were on your way twenty minutes ago and I was starting to worry.”

“We…”

“We are late because of me” his mum says behind him. “I wanted to make this for you and the girls.”

“Croquetas?” I say, looking at the tupperware she just opened. They smell so good…

“Pedri's favourites” she smiles. “I don't know if you'll be allowed to eat them before the game, but they'll still be good tomorrow.”

“Thank you very much. I'm sure they won't mind if we eat one tonight for dinner” I smile back. “But wait, speaking of Pedri… Where is he?” I ask them. 

“He's on his way, don't worry” his dad says. “Now, tell us, Inés. Has the gaffer told you anything about making your debut tomorrow? You already got qualified after winning the other day, this game isn't that important in that sense.”

“He…”

“Inés!” someone screams. 

“What the…” I say, looking at the person running towards me. “Irene?”

“Inés!” she screams again before hugging me and almost making us both fall. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too” she chuckles. “And I'm obviously here to watch you play, you silly!”

“You… what?”

“We couldn't miss your debut with the national team, Inés.”

“Jules? You are here too?”

“Did you think I would come without him?” Irene laughs. “I need someone to explain to me how football works.”

“See? I'm not the only one” Pedri's mum says while looking at her husband, who as a reply only rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, hi! So rude of me to not introduce myself! I'm Irene, Inés’ sister” she smiles, introducing herself to Pedri's parents and instantly starting a conversation with them as if they had known each other their whole lives. 

“Blink, Inés. And close your mouth” Fer laughs next to me. “If you don't, I fear your eyes may pop from their sockets and end up eating a fly.”

“I'm sorry, but… Is this real?”

“Very” Jules smiles. “And there is more” he says, nodding behind himself.

“More? What do you… Ingrid?” I gasp when I see her walking towards me.

“Hello, little sis” she smiles.

“What… what are you doing here?”

“What do you think I am doing here?” she says, pinching my arm like she used to do when I was a kid to tease me. “I've come to watch your debut with the national team!”

“You too?”

“All of us” Ingrid says.

“All of…”

And then I see them. My parents. Together. Here. They… what the fuck?

“Mum! Dad!” I say, running towards them and hugging them at the same time. “You came! You are here!”

“Of course we are” my mum says.

“We couldn't miss your debut for anything in the world” my dad adds.

“I just… I… I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have anything to say, Inés” my mum says, wiping away a tear from my cheek. “We are the ones who have to tell you something.”

“What?”

“We're sorry, Inés. I am sorry” my dad says.

“What?” I repeat, looking even more confused than before. 

“We are sorry about never being there for you, Inés” my mum says. “About never supporting you and your career, about missing all those important moments for you.”

“We all are” Irene says behind me, Ingrid nodding in agreement next to her.

“You… I…” I mumble, looking from my sisters to my parents.

Is this really happening? Are they all here? And how did they know? How did they know that I had missed having them with me in moments like this? That I needed them? There is only one person I've told about it, about how I've felt all these years. Only… No.

“Where is Pedri?” I ask, looking at everyone.

“Here” he says. He is standing behind my parents, his hands in his pockets and an innocent smile on his face. Him. Innocent. Ha!

“You did this, didn't you? You brought them all here.”

“Maybe” he shrugs, his innocent smile turning into a cheeky one.

“You… you… urgh” I say, letting go of my parents and throwing myself at him with the same strength Irene had done earlier with me. 

“Careful” he chuckles, hugging me back.

“Let's give them some space” I hear my mum say before she starts introducing herself to Pedri's parents and, like had happened with Irene, starting to chat with them as if they were old friends.

“I can't believe you did this” I say, moving to look at Pedri. “You've brought them all here. My whole family.”

“I have, yes” he smiles, wiping away my tears. Now I am properly crying. “But there is more.”

“More than this?”

“Vic, Ander, Nacho, Lucía and Mario are flying tomorrow and will be at the game too, and your cousin Daniel is trying his best to catch a last minute flight. But if he can't make it, know that he will be cheering for you from his living room. And my friends have already made a huge banner with your name to show during the game to hopefully be on tv” he chuckles.

“They all are coming?” 

“All of them” he smiles. “None of them wanted to miss your debut with the national team, Inés.”

“I can't believe it. I…” I say, looking back at our families, at how they all are talking to each other, Ingrid actually laughing at something Pedri's dad has said. “How have you done it? Have you bribed them with bananas or something?”

“Maybe” he laughs. 

“Maybe?”

“I may have told them that tomorrow we are having lunch at my parents’ bar. And they all have tried my mum's food before, so…”

“Oh, so you've bribed them with food. Clever” I chuckle. “And my family? I can't remember the last time I saw my parents together in the same room.”

“I may have had a chat with all of them after the New Year.”

“After… wait, wait, wait. That was you too?”

“Yeah” he shrugs. “After what you told me, I just knew I had to do something. I couldn't bear to see you like that again, to know that you were hurting so much. So I did some phone calls, went on a few coffee dates... And here we are.”

“Pedri, I just… I… I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything, Inés. Just seeing your face right now is enough” he says, caressing my cheek.

“I love you, Pedri. I fucking love you.”

“I love you too” he smiles. And when we are about to kiss…

“Oi!” Ingrid says. “Can you please leave that for later? There are miserably single and not stupidly in love people over here!”

“Exactly!” Fer adds.

“Urgh” I groan.

“We'll sneak out later and have a proper make out session, don't worry” Pedri winks. 

“Does it really have to be later?” I say, already feeling… things. Will seeing him wink ever stop turning me on? Probably not. 

“It has, Inés. But it will be worth it, I promise” he smirks. “Now, let's go join the others. I fear Ingrid and Fer may end up becoming bffs, and we do not want that.”

“We don't, no” I chuckle. “But Pedri… Thank you. Thank you for bringing them all here today. Thank you for caring about me like this, for loving me. I… I don't deserve it.”

“You deserve the world, Inés” he smiles, forgetting about what he had just said and kissing me in front of everyone, Ingrid and Fer booing behind us. 

But we don't care. I don't care. 

Because in that moment, even if I'm surrounded by both our families (mine finally together for a good reason), probably feeling the happiest I've ever felt and about to achieve one of the most important goals of my career… it is just us. 

In that moment, is just me and him. Two people who, after years of loving each other in secret, are finally together. Pedri and Inés. Or as some people like calling us… that girl who plays football and the canary boy. 

My canary boy. 

━━━━❃━━━━ FIN ━━━━❃━━━━

[karikitdemonrp]

Kirara had been keeping an eye on their surroundings ever since Kari was taken off the demon cat's back, making sure nothing else was coming.

Kagome watched the little girl and the half demon interact with a bitter sweet smile. Kari could feel the tears starting to flow when Inuyasha said it was okay. She hiccuped softly, clenching her jaw tight while trying to keep herself from crying. The moment she could, Kari tried to hide her face so no one could see, tears now falling down her cheeks and onto Inuyasha's back. Soft whimpers and whines escaped her as she tried to keep quiet. Her small hands trembling as they clung to Inuyasha's clothing as if her life depended on it.

While still scared, the praise Inuyasha gave the child helped her feel a bit proud. She had protected Kirara from getting more hurt. She had helped. She did good. While still terrified of the situation and of her life as she knew it flashing before her eyes, Kari felt an odd sense of pride deep down. Overshadowed by her onslaught of negative emotions and bustling thoughts, but it was there.

Kagome frowned and gave a sigh. "I don't like the sounds of this either... Tainted god... the way those demons acted when Kari used her barrier... I'll talk with Kaede, Sango, and Miroku on the matter when we get back. Maybe they have some information or a lead of some kind. You should..." Kagome paused, not sure what to ask of Inuyasha or suggest of him. "I'm not sure. This whole thing is really weird and I'm also getting a weird feeling. But I'm not letting Kari face this alone either." Kagome smiled kindly at the half demon and the child on his back. "Kari, do you wanna do anything in particular?" The teenager asked with a sweeter tone, trying to help the child focused on something else.

Kari looked up, swiftly wiping her eyes. "Uh, I..." The child paused and thought for a moment. "Um... I just wanna get back to the village... Have a look around, explore a bit. I mean... I haven't had the time to do so on my own given my feet." The child muttered and Kagome clapped her hands together.

"Good idea! Inuyasha, while I talk with the others why don't you show Kari around the village with Kirara? Introduce her to everyone and all that, make her feel welcome. It'll help time fly faster too. Sound good?" The priestess suggested with a grin, trying her best to keep things a bit lighter while around Kari so the child didn't feel worse.

However, it didn't stop Kari from feeling the way she already did. It just stopped things from getting worse. Kari sniffled and whispered softly to herself; "somethings wrong with me... I'm not... normal..." Hoping Noone heard her.

The child's thoughts were vicious, tearing at her from the inside and festering into a horrid black abyss. Kagome could tell Kari wasn't doing well and hoped getting her mind off things would help at least a bit. "Let's get going." Kagome hummed, her chipper voice wavering a bit as she climbed onto Kirara's back to head back to the village.

Inuyasha sheathed Tessaiga, his expression hard as he watched the last of the demons fall. But his gaze softened when he saw Kari trembling, clinging to Kirara like her life depended on it. Her scent had changed—confusing, a mix of demon and something… else. And those symbols on her skin… they gave him an uneasy feeling.

He looked at Kagome as she approached, holding the kid out to him. Without a word, he took Kari into his arms, holding her securely against his chest. She was shaking like a leaf, eyes wide and glistening with tears she was stubbornly trying not to shed. “Tch, stubborn kid,” he muttered, his voice oddly gentle. “Ya don’t gotta be strong all the time, y’know.”

He crouched down, letting her rest on his back once again, making sure her grip was tight before standing up. “You did good, squirt. Keepin’ that barrier up like that… you protected Kirara. Nothin’ wrong with bein’ scared after somethin’ like that.”

He could feel her clinging to his hair, her tiny fists trembling. Inuyasha huffed, his ears flicking. “Feh. Those idiots didn’t know who they were messin’ with. They’re gone now, and they ain’t gonna hurt ya. Not while I’m here.” His voice was gruff, but there was a softness to it, a promise that no harm would come to her.

He looked over his shoulder at Kagome, his eyes serious. “We need answers, Kagome. Those demons called her… a Tainted god. I don’t know what that means, but it can’t be good.” His eyes narrowed, his grip on Kari tightening protectively. “Whatever she is… whatever’s goin’ on… I ain’t lettin’ her face it alone.”