#no idea how this can practically work but think about it

[jeongin-lvr]

🎼 ─┈┈ hubby heeseung ̩̩͙˚ ᩙ ⠀

husband! heeseung with the fattest crush on you literally ever. he worships the ground you walk on; he practically kneels before you, awaiting every need and command you bring to him. he’s so serious when he says he’d take every star out of the sky and give it to you as a gift if you asked. which also includes in bed when he has your face buried into the messed up, unkept bedsheets, whispering i love you’s as he kisses your g-spot with his fat cock. or when he has you in the shower, bent between your legs on his knees as water rushes down his back because you looked too pretty with soapy hair and skin. he mumbles against your clit as he does so, gurled by water but his point still comes across, “the prettiest girl... and you’re all mine, thank you...“

husband! heeseung who recites his vows as he fucks you in a mating press. its crazy but he does it every single time he has you all curled up, knees beside your head, too fucked out as buckets of his cum leaks out of you and stains the sheets. he’s telling you every promise he made on your wedding day and more. he’s reminding you it really is till death do you part. he doesn’t realize he’s doing it; it’s probably just because he gets so worked up, so full of love. every thrust into your flutterung hole is heaven, and all he can think about is how badly he loves you and how badly he wants to get you pregnant.

husband! heeseung who finds you the absolute sexiest when you’re wearing your glasses and his big t-shirt, bare legs, messy hair, rosy cheeks. it’s perfection, he can’t get enough. if he sees you like that fully expect to be completely ruined within the next hour. he fucks you with the glasses on, an dyou’re confused because he doesn’t get crazy like this when you actually dress up or put effort into your appearence, and all he has to say is, “this is the you that turns me on.“ he’ll pin your hands above your head and press your knees into your chest as he stuffs himself inside of you, loving the way the fabric of his shirt bunches at your hips. you weren’t even wearing any panties anyway, what did you expect <3

husband! heeseung who kisses your wedding bands whenever you two are having intimate, lazy sex. lifting your wrist and hand to his lips and pecking your knuckles, kissing on your shaky hands until his lips trace the cold metal, humming with a smile at the way your gaze flickers to his. its the cutest thing, immediately making you smile when you see the sparkles filling his gaze. its so obvious he loves you so much. he even promises to buy you more rings because, “you deserve it,“ and he never fails to fulfill his promise. the next day he somehow comes home from work with a new band, something new for your growing collection.

husband! heeseung who is the first to bring up kids and is very serious about wanting at least two. he’ll casually bring it up into conversations and its adorable... until he’s lifting you onto the counter and lifting your skirt because you’re ovulating and it’s, word for word, “the perfect time to get you pregnant.“ he says it sneakily, with a wink and a cunning grin. you can’t say no, especially since the idea of him being the father of your children was almost perfect. you’re both young but it doesn’t hurt to try does it? so he’s waking you up to his cock filling you up in the morning, or when you’re just watching a movie he ends up sitting you on his dick and filling you up. you have no complaints. just shaky legs and a nice, warm creampie.

husband! heeseung who finally gets you pregnant and is somehow even more obsessed with you. he’s doting on you hand and foot. every craving you get he’s finding every ingredient. every symptom you experience he’s researching diligently, telling you cures or remedies, scheduling doctors apointments to get an experts opinion. and on days when all you wanna do is be near him, feel him, feel sexy with him, he’s so perfect at being exactly what you need. he worships your body; praising you on how pretty you look full of his baby, how you’re glowing, kissing your ankles or your tits or anywhere you might feel a little unsure of.

[whumpster-fire]

Oh shit I got Gravity. I'm scared.

Okay, I'm assuming this works in one of two ways:

A: Object Based, i.e. I can control the strength and direction of the gravitational acceleration experienced by a specific object, with limitations on the size, range, and strength of the object.

B: Field Based, i.e. I can create a gravitational field centered on a location within range that remains fixed relative to either the Earth or me, and causes other objects to behave as if there is an enormous, compact mass in this location. Hopefully not a point mass, because creating 1 g of acceleration at 10 m from the center means 100 g at 1 meter, 10,000 g at 10 cm, 1,000,000 g at 1 cm, and 10^8 g at 1 mm. I'm scared that even if this isn't a real black hole it might be able to shred anything that gets near it and turn objects / the surrounding air into a very hot mass of compacted matter, possibly with its own accretion disc, that will put out horrifying amounts of UV radiation or worse, and violently explode as soon as the field is turned off.

Anyway: the field version has the potential to be a devastating weapon but also extremely difficult to safely use. The more entertaining version of this power is that if I can use it on myself or on a platform that I'm riding, it would theoretically be possible to put things into orbit or even interplanetary trajectories with only a spacesuit and possibly some sort of vehicle. The drawback of this is controlling it would be extremely difficult even with electronics: because anything being moved by a gravity superpower would, from its perspective, be in free fall, I don't think an Inertial Measurement Unit would be usable to measure position or speed.

It would most likely be possible in theory to make a Super Suit HUD/ Engineless Orbital Jet Ski that used GPS signals to get position and speed, but civilian GPS units have a speed limit before they refuse to give you data for reasons that should be obvious if you think about it for a few seconds, and IIRC this limit is about Mach 1.5 which is way too slow, so actually acquiring a way to put stuff onto a trajectory I want would be a "Ask the Defense Department really, really nicely for unlocked GPS hardware and pinky promise not to make an ICBM" kind of thing, as well as probably a "ask someone else who may either have superpowers or also be the Defense Department to build a navigation system in exchange for a few free launches."

In practice this is a really fucking bad idea because the National Reconnaissance Office and also probably quite a few supervillains would probably be very, very interested in someone who can put shit into orbit without the radar/heat signature of a rocket launch. If I had a superpower that could do that there is no way in hell I would let anyone know how effective it was because this is the kind of combo of not optimal for combat / very useful for other things powers that gets you blackmailed into doing shady shit / assassinated by the enemies of whoever's blackmailing you.

I'm remaining neutral, and if I used my powers publicly at all I would if at all possible lie about how they actually work and pretend I have telekinesis/flight.

You discover that you have control over a certain thing, as determined by spinning this wheel. We're talking full-on magical girl/superhero/supervillain/your label of choice control.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 06/01✨

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

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do the little monkeys on Flower Fruit mountain ever see at Wukong and Macaque bickering like an old married couple and think to themselves 'just kiss already'?

Yes. They keep doing and Wukong tries to stop them otherwise Macaque could hear them (he already does)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Been reading up on Macaque Body Language and found this: "A peculiar behaviour displayed by macaques is lip smacking. Between macaques, lip smacking is used to show submission, affection and reconciliation. This behaviour is a form of communication and is sometimes accompanied with cooing vocalisations and mild raising of eyebrows." So now I can't stop imaging Monkey King and Macaque just smacking lips and raising eyebrows to each other instead of saying "I love you" or after a fight just smacking lips and then hugging. But then I also started questioning, do the two monkeys in your AU actually use monkey body language to communicate? Or is it just human language they use? Great work on your AU btw! Loving the art and story ^^

Mm some? Like a little but not too much. But that’s an adorable trivia!!

Does macaque know about Wukong's stage fright?👀

Yes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Baby MK lives in my head rent free. If Wukong or Macaque were trappen in the calabash than their perfect world would be one where they could raise mk without him having to fight or get hurt and traumatized

I THINK the fanfiction series Squashed Apricots is just about this if it can interest you.

@abbytheslothwitch ha chiesto: In your AU or your general opinion, which monkey dad is the taller one; Wukong or Macaque?

Macaque

Anonimo ha chiesto: The way you draw Pigsy honestly is one of the best I've seen I mean just look at him!!! He doesn't have the proportions of a regular human because he's not human and it works so well! I dunno he just looks cool in your artstyle and design That all I had to say :]]]]

Thank you so much!!!♥️♥️♥️ He’s honestly quite hard to draw exactly bc of that, but it’s good practice! Him and DBK are generally harder, I’m not super used to draw animals.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: Ello! Sorry, it's me again But just had a thought, sense Macaque has died and went to Dìyù or the underworld. (I think that's were the book of death is) Wouldn't he be at least scared or nervous to go back? Idk like bad memories like their fight or the lady bone demon or something? Idk maybe overthinking or that I just like angsty :P (P.s I fricking love your art and your AU's so much!!!!)

Yes. I believe he wouldn’t like the idea. I like to think he”s actually terrified. But he wouldn’t care less if it means to protect and help his baby.

Anonimo ha chiesto: will MK try to try change his name into nobody or something form of loophole name so that can be like ohhhh nobody us in trouble! Everyone is safeeee! And nezha’s dad is like wait no

Ahah that’s a good idea! Unfortunately that isn’t the plan

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out we know Wukong made the bed because he made it bigger. It's made out of peach tree wood. And carved moon and suns and stars on the headboard.

AWWWW!!😭😭😭😭😭

@a1teruniverse ha chiesto: What's the hardest panel you've drawn

It is a panel if it’s an animation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will u ever do flash backs for shadowpeach thats “happy” like them first meeting realizing there in love a jealous mac courtnapping the monkey king just being young and in love.

Mmm yeah i wanna do smth like that. Don’t know when or how but i wanna.

Anonimo ha chiesto: does Wukong ever/will ever let glamours down and let like everything hang out like Mac would come in and his husband just causally has his boobs out and he’s like sweet my husband got hotter bc he’s pan(?) like I think you said that in an earlier post

I mean. I don’t think he has any issues dropping his glamours in front of macaque. I don’t think he would stay too much without his glamours bc still, I guess he would have some slight dysphoria. Also I mean, yeah Macaque loves him with or without boobies. But if Wukong could choose he would prefer not to have them out if he can.

Anonimo ha chiesto: which bottle is every ship in your lmk comic chugging? (I’m talking about your red bubble stickers for ao3 tags I would find it but I’m lazyyyh)

Shadowpeach is hurt & comfort (which I saw now I didn’t uploaded but yeah I got that one as well.), slowburn, enemies to lovers, and angst cause- duh.

Spicynoodle I would say is fluff, oneshot, enemies to lovers, found family.

Anonimo ha chiesto: im so embarrassed to ask about this but, later when mk and red boy r dating, who would ask the other first on a date? What would the date be? Also what does dbk and pif personal opinion of their relationship? SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN ASKED BEFORE😭

I think MK, because dates are something a little more human, and cause Red Son is a workaholic. It can either be something like a training session, a videogame session at Red castle, or just also the traffic light trio being competitive. DBK and PIF are supporting, mostly bc they know their family will be even more powerful with an union such as theirs. Of course PIF is supporting also cause MK is Mac baby.

@kandymaneuwu ha chiesto: On a scale of 1 to 10 how fluffy is macaque this is very important

10 with merits

@5hadowm0ch1 ha chiesto: When will Shadowpeach kiss? It's always head-to-head Pats (I'm trying to predict what happening)

b-b-b-b-b- but head-to-head pats are cute…

@majesticgazell ha chiesto: Ooohhh I’m just imagining Li Jing catching wind of the plan and activating MK’s fillet while he’s in the shadows… maybe he wouldn’t lose himself under normal circumstances, but with that thing tightening around his head? 👀 Just a thought

Hehe, isn’t that a possibility?

@nataszaluiz ha chiesto: So I have a few questions. First: do you plan on ending it before Season 6 releases or do you plan on continuing it and mixing it up with your AU? Second: have you heard theories that a fragment of Azure's Soul is placed in the blue flower that appears after it's sacrifice? Third: Will characters like Yellowtusk and Peng appear in your AU?

S6 seems to either happen next year or never, so I ve3ry much hope i finish my story sooner.

no i haven’t

mmmm i don’t know

@cheddarcheesebiscuit1 ha chiesto: I gotta ask, if MK would to ever get injured in his monkie form, then would Macaque/Wukong try to take him to a human doctor or a vet?

I know we all want to see Macaque and Wukong freaking out when their baby is sick, but I think we forget sometimes that, even though they aren’t medics, Wukong has a basic understanding how to heal wounds and medicine. Macaque is head-canoned many times to be an expert in fact. And I think there are demons/demonic doctors in case MK has some kind of curse or demonic sickness, which would be what actually makes them worry in the first place.

@ainnur ha chiesto: Mei and Wukong team up?! Wasabi Duo the party crasher🎉✨ Love them💕 They need more love as a duo

Their name IS WASABI DUO????????? AAAWWWWWW

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for sparking my LMK hyper fixation and I’m really curious: Will we get more Nezha? How will he react knowing that the Buddha approved this? IF the Buddha approved it at all 👀

Yes you will have plenty of Nezha. Also if youo guys really want to know, yeah, the Buddha themself approved of this. No, Li Jing wasn’t lying.

@saphstories ha chiesto: KYRI PLEASE IF I ASK FOR NOTHING ELSE I NEED TO SEE HELICOPTER AUNT PIF AND UNCLE DBK IN THAT FIGHT BECAUSE *HEAVEN DID WHAT TO THEIR NEPHEW???* And I'm sorry but of freaking course Red Son being the brat he is would call Mommy and Daddy to tattle about how mean Heaven is for stealing his Monkey before he could. 😂😂 Can you tell how insane the extended Monkey Fam makes me? 😂😂😂 I love this AU, I can't wait to see more!

When they heard the news they wanted to come to help attack the palace as well, but Red Son stopped them saying smt like “HE IS MY FUTURE HOUSBAND AND I GET TO KIDNAP HIM OUT OF HEAVEN MOM!”

@anxiousbb-witch ha chiesto: Do I have a reason to fear the possibilities of the golden headband being used on MK and all the emotions and tears coming from it?

oh year, absolutely.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just have the funny thought that MK woke up one morning in his true form and get jumpscared by looking at himself and see he has boobs again

nooouuuu poor baby! But yeah it’s a funny image

@monkieshad0w ha chiesto: HELLOO HELLOO! What’s ur opinion on sundial duo :D (if you don’t know what sundial duo is, it’s basically Macaque and Wukong being duos and besties but not lovers) :3

oohhh well I do live any pf my ships as besties as well! Platonic love is just as important as romantic one for me personally!

[nosyp]

https://www.tumblr.com/nosyp/771746556559949824/you-know-in-ss1-the-player-go-in-pair-and-play?source=share

We still wait for 2nd and 3rd year

I'm so sorry, thank u for reming me nonnie ��

First years

Second years

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is in the marble game, fighting for survival. But when it comes to you, he’s more than just scared—he’s desperate.

What Happens: Riddle tries to hold himself together, but he becomes irrationally focused on your well-being. Every time a player is eliminated, he’s filled with dread, thinking it could be you. His strict adherence to the rules falters as he becomes too emotionally invested, ready to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means breaking the rules.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie finds himself in the middle of the marble game, surrounded by tension. But he’s not just worried about himself—his attention is completely on you.

What Happens: Ruggie’s usually playful and laid-back attitude starts to slip as the fear of losing you takes over. He’s surprisingly intense when it comes to your safety, trying to be clever in the game to protect both of you. His nerves start to show as he carefully calculates his moves, desperately trying not to let the game cost him someone he cares about. Every time someone is eliminated, it’s a reminder of how high the stakes are for him.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul faces the marble game with a cold sweat running down his back. The weight of the situation sinks in as he watches the eliminations unfold, his mind racing through strategies.

What Happens: Azul's usual calm, calculated demeanor starts to falter as he’s forced to focus on you. He hates the idea of losing you, especially since he's worked so hard to form a bond with you. The fear of your loss distracts him, but it also fuels his determination. He pulls out all the stops to outsmart the other players, promising to protect you at all costs—though the fear of failure makes his words tremble.

Jade Leech

Jade maintains his usual calm but there’s a sharpness to his gaze as he glances at you during the game. He’s more focused on how you react, unsure if you’ll make it through.

What Happens: Jade doesn’t show his fear as clearly, but his concern for you is evident in his actions. He’s quietly protective, always ensuring that you’re safe as the game progresses. He tries to mask it with his usual polite tone, but there's an edge in his voice when he urges you to stay focused. The idea of losing you is unbearable for him, even though he refuses to admit it out loud.

Floyd Leech

Floyd stands, practically bouncing on his feet as the marble game progresses. His excitement’s at an all-time high, but the idea of losing you brings a rare flicker of seriousness to his eyes.

What Happens: Floyd’s usual chaotic energy shifts to a mix of worry and possessiveness when it comes to you. He’s all smiles on the outside, but you can tell something’s off. He jokes around, but his grip on your hand tightens each time someone else is eliminated. He’s surprisingly protective, his playful nature turning into something more intense as the game goes on. He might be enjoying the thrill of the challenge, but losing you is something he refuses to allow.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim looks around, his usual carefree smile fading as he realizes the seriousness of the game. His eyes are locked onto you with a mix of concern and determination.

What Happens: Kalim can’t help but let his emotions spill over. He’s terrified of losing you, and though he tries to stay upbeat, it’s clear he’s struggling with the weight of the game. He’s genuinely trying to make sure you’re okay, and will probably offer his marbles to you without a second thought. His desire to keep you safe outweighs any strategy, and he may even try to distract others or make deals to ensure you’re not at risk.

Jamil Viper

Jamil’s brows furrow as he takes a steady breath. The pressure of the marble game is weighing on him more than anyone else. His eyes flicker between you and the game’s host.

What Happens: Jamil’s usual composed demeanor cracks when it comes to you. His fear is subtle, but it’s there, hiding behind his stoic face. Every time you’re at risk, his protective instinct takes over, and he starts calculating the best ways to keep you out of harm’s way. He might not say it, but he’s willing to go to extreme lengths to make sure you’re safe—even if it means sacrificing himself. He won’t allow himself to lose you, even if it costs him everything.

Silver

The marble game is intense, and Silver can feel the weight of the situation. But the one thing weighing on his mind more than anything is you.

What Happens: Despite his usually calm demeanor, Silver becomes increasingly distracted as the rounds go on. His protective nature kicks in, and he can’t help but worry about you. His attention is split, and he becomes more anxious with each passing moment, realizing just how much he’s scared to lose you.

Third years

Trey Clover

Trey is forced to compete in the marble game, each round bringing a new wave of tension. But his biggest worry isn’t the game—it’s you.

What Happens: His protective instincts flare up, and he becomes distracted, constantly looking over at you. Trey tries his best to maintain a level head, but his concern for you makes him second-guess his moves. His greatest fear is losing you, and it's all he can think about as the game progresses.

Cater Diamond

You and Cater are trapped together in the marble game, with the pressure mounting each time a player is eliminated. The rules are clear: only one person survives.

What Happens: Cater tries to keep his usual upbeat demeanor, but his fear of losing you keeps him on edge. He’s overly cautious in every round, constantly checking on you and trying to hide his anxiety. Every time someone loses, it feels like a punch to his gut. His carefree attitude slips as he focuses solely on ensuring you're safe.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is standing off to the side, his usual lazy demeanor replaced with intense focus. His golden eyes follow you through the game, the pressure of the situation making him uneasy.

What Happens: Leona’s pride doesn’t let him show his fear, but his concern for you is obvious. He may not say it out loud, but he watches you carefully, making sure you’re safe. If anyone dares to target you, Leona will act, his annoyance turning into protective rage. Despite his usual reluctance to show affection, he’s fiercely determined not to lose you, even if it means going against his natural instincts to stay aloof.

Rook Hunt

Rook’s enigmatic smile lingers, but there’s a sharpness in his gaze that wasn’t there before. He thrives in unpredictable situations, but the thought of risking you stirs an unease he’s never quite felt before.

What Happens: Rook approaches the game with his usual poetic flair, waxing philosophical about the fragility of life and the beauty of perseverance. However, his theatrics mask a steely determination to ensure your survival. He watches you intently, analyzing every move with uncanny precision. If he senses your distress, he reassures you with soft words and unwavering confidence, though he’d secretly give up his own life if it meant sparing yours. In the end, he might manipulate the game subtly in your favor, all while declaring that it was fate or artistry at play.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil's flawless expression falters as he realizes the stakes of the game. His carefully maintained composure doesn’t slip, but his concern for you is palpable.

What Happens: Vil remains calm and calculating, but he’s noticeably more protective over you than anyone else. He’s not afraid to speak up, offering advice and checking in on you to ensure you’re okay. His obsession with perfection takes a backseat to his desire to keep you safe, even if he’s reluctant to admit how much he cares. Vil is the type to give his marbles up without hesitation to protect you, and his fear of losing you outweighs his pride.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is eerily calm, his imposing presence filling the room. However, there’s a deep undercurrent of worry beneath his still demeanor, especially when he looks at you.

What Happens: Malleus doesn’t show fear, but his actions betray his worry for you. His gaze softens whenever it lands on you, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings to ensure your safety. He may even offer his marbles or try to intimidate others into leaving you alone. Malleus isn’t the type to admit his feelings, but it’s clear that your safety is paramount to him, and he will not let anything happen to you.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia stands tall, his usual playful grin slipping into a more serious expression as he watches the game unfold. His eyes flick between you and the players, ever watchful.

What Happens: Lilia tries to keep his usual teasing attitude, but his protectiveness over you is undeniable. While he may joke around, he’s secretly terrified of the idea of losing you. His smile falters when you’re put in danger, and he’s quick to intervene if necessary, using his wit to keep you safe. Despite his playful nature, Lilia is fiercely loyal and won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to ensure you make it through the game unharmed.

[pupwashing]

i ain't even gon hold anyone anymore i lowkey need swansea rape. like... he's not that type of guy AT ALL but i need some swansea pseudo-incest rape. he's my dilf crush so i need to assign him a sleazy pervy second side

-👧🏿nonnie who's so fucking gone

oh my god nonnie.

SWANSEA RAPE? SOUND THE ALARMS! A FIRE IDEA HAS HIT THE TOWER!!!!!!!!

umm I may have gotten carried away with this,,,, TW for noncon, unprotected sex, and a creampie :3

swansea really doesn't fucking like you, has never liked you, and always tries to keep you away from him, but you won't get off his back. you're more annoying than daisuke, and daisuke annoys the ever living hell out of him.

its clear you have some type of issue that just keeps you clinging to him, and there doesn't seem to be much he can do about it.

so when you can't beat 'em, you take advantage of your situation.

you're doe eyed and naive, the perfect target for any low level sleaze to have his way with you, which he plans on doing. you trust him enough to cling to him like a damned leech, so its not hard to get you alone in utility.

even easier for him to get his hand down your pants, and before you realize whats happening, his thick fingers are already scissoring your juicy cunt open.

jesus, you're already soaking wet. he tells himself its because of his old charm, not because of basic biology or whatever. you clearly want this, even if you're crying and struggling against him.

despite being up there in age, swansea's pretty strong. you don't stand a chance against him.

once his fingers are done opening you up, it's time for the main event: his dick.

it's been a while since he's been in this position. his wife doesn't care much for sex anymore, and neither did he, until you came along.

suddenly, his libido's back and better than ever.

one hand clamps down on your mouth in case you try to scream, while the other moves your dainty little panties to the side. your pussy is practically begging him to fuck it, and so he will.

you never thought you'd get raped by a man you considered as a fatherly figure, but life has a way of throwing wrenches into the happy ideals people love to have.

his dick isn't very big, but it is wide, so it feels like theres a battering ram stretching you wide open. it's girthy enough to make your insides feel like mush, to bring tears to your eyes, to make your legs feel like jelly.

every stroke breaks your little heart, piece by piece. you don't know why he decided to do this to you. maybe you should've stayed away when you had the chance.

you don't have time to dwell on your poor judgement, because your thoughts get jumbled with every snap of swansea's hips.

a con of being old is the loss of stamina, and swansea isn't exactly the stud he used to be. gone is the man who could last for hours keeping his partners satisfied, now a bitter old man who would rather work than use his dick.

it was over as quick as it started, ending with swansea painting your gummy walls white. his pull out game isn't like it used to be either.

you collapse as soon as its over. your legs can't handle your weight.

and of course, he simply zips his pants up and leaves. no one goes to utility, so no one would come to your aid.

as you lay on the cold ground, you think. about all the times swansea told you to get lost, or how he would always shoo you away.

but the cold hard truth is that swansea would've done it no matter what you chose to do. he was going to do this anyway. it was just a matter of time.

you were a ticking time bomb, and he was the detonator.

[monsterfucker-lisa-swallows]

i think the disconnect over what doctors and society sees as "getting better" does not match up with my expectations for it

doctors define getting better as being able to work and perform in a way that is indistinguishable from the people around you. it's basically "don't be a nuisance". you are expected to do anything you reasonably can to get to a baseline where other people can't tell you're in pain and you don't require government assistance. but even when it's that, they're often going off metrics that are based on their life experiences and not ours. many are able bodied with no serious mental ailments and they live their lives in fear of becoming us. they think if they had our problems, they would focus first and foremost on "getting better" because the idea of a wheelchair scares them. the idea of needing ANY help scares them, particularly if they are boomers, because older generations were raised to believe it's a weakness and a burden to need any help.

my idea of "getting better" is being able to do my hobbies without brain fog. it's not being deterred from fun activities because of my back pain. it's refusing to meditate because it actively makes my ptsd worse. it's using mobility aids in the airport because they prevent me from being in terrible pain and suffering the worst anxiety. it's asking for help when i need it. we do not have to "deserve" "luxuries" like quality time with people we love and the ability to do hobbies by torturing ourselves and performing for others, fuck that.

i once watched a documentary attempting to answer the question if disabled people can be truly happy. the documentary was made by a disabled man and interviewed different people with different disabilities. what struck me was a man with a birth defect that left him with no arms talking about how his whole life he was pressured into wearing and practicing with his prosthetic arms even when it hurt him. he much prefers to open doors with his feet and use self driving vehicles. but people to this day still pressure him to use less effective methods that hurt him. why would they do that to a perfectly healthy man? because THEY are uncomfortable and have not examined their own horror at the idea of what they would do if they didn't have a limb. they treat it as this end of the world thing, as if everyone should have to find a way to perform in the world the exact same way as they do or else they have an existential crisis. but you know what - fuck em. do (or don't do) the things that make your life worth living.

You know what? It’s fucking hard trying to get better. It’s exhausting managing doctors appointments, doing daily PT exercises, eating better, trying to exercise, trying to meditate, and doing ADL’s. I have had a bad crash per week trying to juggle and do all of the above.

It’s easier and less acutely painful to just coast and not actively work on ‘getting better’. Is the work worth it? I don’t know yet.

But to people who’ve tried and given up, to those who don’t even bother - you still deserve care and compassion.

[joongieology]

2U | Jeong Yunho

Pairing: Jeong Yunho X Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: University AU(?), cussing, mention of violence, possessive!Yunho, obsessive tendencies (please let me know if I missed something!)

Sypnosis: You're sure that your best friend has always been kind and friendly with everyone, so when you found out otherwise, you did not want to believe it, or maybe you're in denial.

Song Recommendation: 2U by Justin Bieber

Note: I've been working on this for a while. The idea behind this story is so good but I'm not sure if I delivered it properly >_< Anyways, happy reading!!

¡Disclaimer: The following content is a work of fiction and does NOT represent the written member in any way!

You've known Yunho since, like, forever. You can't even remember how you first met him, just that you've known him since you were in grade school. Wherever you are, he'd be there too. You two were inseparable. So when you got accepted to the university you've always dreamt of attending, and he didn't, he was beyond devastated.

You were sitting side by side on the couch of your apartment when you checked the results. You squealed in happiness seeing that you got accepted. You immediately looked over Yunho with a big smile, but it slowly disappeared when you saw his expression. He was just sitting there silently, disappointment evident in his eyes, with a hint of...anger? But his expression changed right away when he heard your voice.

"Yuyu?" You called out to him slowly, gently tapping him on the shoulder. He always loves it when you call him by the nickname you made for him; it sounds almost angelic when it comes from your lips. It's as if he is an angel himself, or so you thought. He looked over to you and gave you a tight smile.

"I didn't get in. I got waitlisted." He almost couldn't get the words out; it felt like something was blocking his throat. Just thinking about you being away from him and being surrounded by other people, especially men, made him want to pull his hair out.

You hugged him from the side, slowly caressing his arm, trying to comfort him.

"That's alright; we can still meet from time to time. Every day, or maybe five times a week, or on the weekends, if we're not too busy..." You tried to sound convincing, but even you were sad with the thought of being away from Yunho. You were always together that you forgot the feeling of being alone, so the idea of not having him by your side in a new school, a new environment, tormented you.

The university was far from where you currently live, so it would be quite hard to see each other much, considering you'll also have to stay at the dorm once college starts. Unless he finds another school in the same city the university is at.

You pulled away from the hug, thinking about other ways to comfort him.

"Would you like to stay over...?"

Yunho staying over is nothing new. He always sleeps over when it gets too late while you're having a movie marathon, completely forgetting about the time. He almost always sleeps on the couch, except that one time.

You were at the kitchen, getting some water because you were parched from bingeing your current favourite TV show, when someone knocked at the door. You looked at the clock; it's currently two in the morning. Who could be here at this hour? You peeked through the peephole to find no one. Okay, now, what the fu— Your line of thoughts was interrupted when you heard another pair of knocks. "Y/N." Someone from the other side of the door whispered, so low you almost didn't hear it. Yunho. You opened the door to find a nearly zombie-like looking Yunho. He was crouching down, back towards the door. He looked up at you from his position and grinned. "Hi." He said with a smile, standing, then hugging you, practically putting all his weight on you. He reeks of alcohol. "Yuyu, can you stand properly? You're so big, and you're putting all your weight on me!" You whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake your neighbours. He giggled like a kid while you're still struggling trying to hold him up. He attempted to stand properly and started walking to your bedroom, but he ended up walking in zigzag. When he finally got to your room, he removed his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving only his boxers on, then lay down on your bed. Even when drunk, he still remembered how you dislike getting on the bed with outside clothes on. You felt your cheeks flush. You shut your eyes and turned around. Inhale, exhale. This would've been nothing to you if your friendship was purely platonic, which it was until it wasn't. You honestly don't know when, but one day, you just started to look at Yunho...differently. You're suddenly aware of every little thing he did for you that you weren't aware of when you only saw him as your best friend. Like remembering the things you like, you don't like, and doing things for you—for your convenience. But of course, you wouldn't dare confess your feelings to him, fearing that it might ruin your lifelong friendship. You faced the bed, eyes still shut but peeking a little, and you walked towards Yunho and covered him with your blanket. You stared at him peacefully sleeping on your bed, in your apartment, with nothing but a pair of boxer shorts on. He looked like a prince. You went over to the other side of the bed, lifting the blanket to get under it, when your eyes caught something purple on the side of his waist. It was a bruise. What did he do? Where was he? Why does he have a bruise like this? You took note of asking him tomorrow about this and also putting a cold compress on it, then you went to bed.

After that night, you asked him about the bruise, but he just shrugged it off and told you that he just bumped into something and not to worry too much about it. You did not press further because he looked like he didn't want to talk about it at all.

"Would that be alright...?" He answered you with a question.

"Yeah, I mean, you often sleep over anyway; it's no big deal."

He showed you a smile and kissed you on the forehead, like he always does.

-~-

It was officially the first day of college, and you stood in front of the gate, mentally preparing yourself for the new environment you'll be facing. No Yunho, no nothing, just you and the infinity necklace he had given you before you moved over to the dorm—and your things of course.

While walking, you looked around, scanning the buildings, trying to look for the building name written at the schedule given to you, which was saved to your phone.

You bumped into someone looking as confused as you.

"Are you a freshman, too?" You build up the courage and start the conversation. If you want to make friends, better make one now.

"Yeah," she answered, looking awkward.

You glanced at her phone and saw the exact same schedule as yours.

"Oh! We're classmates!" Excitement was evident in your tone. At least you'll have a friend among your classmates, or so you hope.

You looked for your building together, almost getting a headache from going around the campus. When you finally found the building, you immediately went to your room, and class started.

Lunch came, and you went to the cafeteria with your newfound friend. You were peacefully munching on your lunch—thinking about what Yunho would be doing right now—when someone placed their lunch beside yours. You smelt his perfume and instantly knew.

"Hi." He was smiling yet again.

"You—why—what are you doing here??" You don't know what to ask first. You were just genuinely happy he was here. Even when other students that were sitting near your table started to scatter away while murmuring something among themselves, you still didn't care.

You hugged Yunho around his neck.

"I go here now."

"What—how??"

"Long story. Don't worry about it. What's important is I'm here now, right?" He uncapped a drink—your favourite drink—and placed it in your hands.

You nodded, sipping on the drink. You glanced over at your friend sitting beside you, her face pale with shock written all over it, while staring at Yunho.

"What's wrong?" You asked, concerned.

"N-nothing." She gave you a tight smile and went back to eating.

Odd. You gazed at Yunho, and he just gave you a shrug with that infamous smile of his, urging you to finish eating.

The next few days went by. You were thrilled to have Yunho at the same school. You always hung out together, sometimes bringing your friend along with you. Yunho didn't seem to mind, saying, 'As long as you're happy.'.

College was actually tolerable, better than you imagined. Your friend invited you to go to a party on Friday night, insisting you bring Yunho too.

You talked about this with Yunho. At first he was reluctant, claiming your friend is not trustworthy and you shouldn't be hanging out with her too much, but eventually, he agreed.

The place of the party was not too far away from the university. It was a big house with a pool in the backyard and a beautiful garden at the front. It was packed, some people dancing, some just hanging out drinking beer or heavy liquor, some kissing, and some smoking...weed?

Is this a fucking frat party?!

Well, might as well have fun; besides, Yunho is here with you anyway, so nothing will happen... right?

Your friend dragged you and Yunho to what you assumed was the kitchen and handed each of you a beer she got from the cooler.

You drink occasionally, most of the time with Yunho, but you've never really been a heavy drinker. Him, on the other hand, has a high tolerance; that's why you were surprised when he came to you drunk that night.

You were getting pretty dizzy when Yunho snatched the can of beer you were holding. It was your third, halfway done. You leaned onto his chest, and a whiff of his perfume reached your senses, causing you to giggle.

"Gosh, you smell sooo good~~." You were still giggling, looking up at him, eyes half-lidded. He took a glance at your plump lips and gulped.

Oh, you have no idea what you do to him.

He wished he could kiss you right there and then, make you feel good like you've never felt before, claim you as his, and submit himself to you, but he held back, not wanting to scare you away, not knowing you felt the same way he did.

You stared at each other, silently relaying your love for one another, hoping the other would just snap and let go.

One...

Two...

Three...

And you pulled away, excusing yourself to the bathroom. You locked the door and stared at your reflection.

Y/N, just tell him already!!

You wanted to pull your hair out of frustration, but you tried to calm down.

What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he likes someone else and just sees me as his friend? Never mind.

You composed yourself before going out and heading back to the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you heard your friend and Yunho's voice.

"What the fuck is so special about her that you'd do all that for her?" You heard your friend's voice.

"She's everything I want; she's everything to me, something you'll never be." Yunho's tone was so low, it almost scared you.

You've never been scared of Yunho once in your life; he has always been so nice and gentle towards you. He never did something that would scare you in any way, so you assumed he was like that with everyone else.

"I wonder what her reaction would be if she finds out what you're doing behind her back." She mocked Yunho.

"I fucking dare you; I won't even look your way if not for her. She considered you her "friend" that's why I've tried to put up with you, but this fucking stops now. Stop throwing yourself at me and don't show yourself in front of us ever again, or"—you heard him step forward—"I'll fucking make you."

She actually tried to throw herself at him?

Bitch.

You heard footsteps, and then there he is, looking at you with a shocked expression, eyes as round as they can be, mouth slightly agape. Then you closed the distance between you and...

You kissed him.

You're kissing him.

You're kissing Jeong Yunho.

Fucking finally.

You had to tiptoe to reach his lips. When he recovered from the shock, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, and kissed you deeper, more passionately. He's been waiting all his life for this, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass.

When you ran out of air, you pulled away from him slightly.

"I have something to tell you." He spoke first, gulping, thinking about what your reaction would be. This is it.

He led you to the poolside and sat there, folding his pants so as not to get them wet, then dipped his feet in the pool. He removed his denim jacket and placed it beside him, patting it, signalling you to sit on it. You obeyed, dipping your feet as well, the cold hitting you immediately.

Then he confessed. Confessed everything he's been doing since he met you. Like pushing away other kids so you'll only play with him. Threatening other guys to never pursue you or even look your way. Fighting with other guys when they said something bad or sexual about you. And the most recent thing is having to beat up someone just so he'll get in the same university as you.

You tried to process everything, trying to take in the new information. You honestly don't know what to feel, a surge of emotions hitting you all at the same time. You never knew he was so possessive of you; well, of course you knew that he wanted all your attention on him, but not to that extent.

Were you so naive to not notice all that? How is he so cold towards everyone and only kind towards you? How much he dislikes it when someone tries to get your attention! All the subtle glances and hand gestures he does behind your back, trying to warn others to not disturb you? Were you really? You never noticed all that? Or maybe you did; you just never cared because it benefitted you. You never cared as long as he's with you. You never cared as long as you always got your way. You ignored everything for the sake of you and your relationship with each other. And maybe, just maybe, you are just as crazy as him.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated!!

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

4362 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴɪɴɢ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɴɪᴄᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

Jayce Talis was fresh-faced and full of ambition when he first arrived in Piltover. Accepted into the academy (19) as a promising young inventor, he was determined to make a name for himself. But ambition wasn’t enough to build the dreams he had in his mind. The academy had resources, yes, but they were cautious, slow-moving—bound by tradition. Jayce’s ideas demanded materials and ingenuity that Piltover wasn’t ready to supply.

That’s how he found himself wandering into the Undercity one fateful evening.

The narrow streets of Zaun were a stark contrast to the polished halls of the academy. Steam hissed from broken pipes, and the air smelled of oil and metal. Jayce clutched a hastily scribbled map in his hand, given to him by a fellow student who claimed there was a workshop deep in Zaun where you could find anything—if you were brave enough to look.

He nearly missed the place entirely, tucked away in a crooked alley. A flickering sign above the door read: “Y/N’s Fixes & Finds.”

Pushing the door open, Jayce was greeted by the faint hum of machinery and the clatter of tools. The workshop was a chaotic haven of gears, wires, and half-finished devices. At the centre of it all stood a young woman, roughly about the same age as him, goggles perched on their head, a smudge of grease streaked across their cheek as they worked on a mechanical contraption.

The sound of the door creaking drew their attention. They turned, narrowing their eyes at the well-dressed stranger. “Lost, academy boy?” they asked, their tone sharp but not unkind.

Jayce hesitated, taken aback by the directness. “Not lost,” he said, stepping further into the room. “Looking for something I can’t find in Piltover.”

Y/N leaned against the workbench, crossing their arms. “You’ve got the wrong place if you’re looking for shiny toys and fancy gadgets.”

“That’s not what I’m after,” Jayce replied earnestly. “I’m working on an idea—something that could change everything. But I need better materials, better tools. Someone told me you could help.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite themselves. “Big words for someone who doesn’t look like they’ve built anything that’s actually worked.”

Jayce smirked, feeling a flicker of determination. “I can prove it.”

They tossed him a battered device from the workbench—a mangled mess of gears and wires. “Fix that. If you’re half as smart as you think you are, it shouldn’t take you long.”

Jayce took the challenge without hesitation, sitting down at the workbench. The device was poorly assembled but fixable. With a few careful adjustments, he realigned the gears and connected the wires properly. Within minutes, the device clicked and whirred to life, emitting a faint pulse of light.

Y/N was impressed but tried not to show it. “Not bad, academy boy. Maybe you’re worth my time after all. Names Y/N” She holds her hand out to him.

"Jayce." He responded, shaking her hand.

They spent the next few hours talking, trading ideas and challenges. Y/N’s resourcefulness fascinated Jayce—they solved problems with a practicality born from necessity, creating brilliance out of scraps. In turn, Y/N couldn’t help but admire Jayce’s vision and his almost reckless drive to push boundaries.

When it was finally time for Jayce to leave, Y/N handed him a small pouch filled with rare components. “Call it a loan,” they said with a sly smile. “Don’t screw it up.”

Jayce smiled back, his grip tightening on the pouch. “I won’t,” he promised.

As he walked back to Piltover, the weight of the pouch felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t just components—it was trust. And for the first time, Jayce felt like his dreams weren’t so far away. He didn’t know it yet, but this meeting was the start of something that would change not just his life, but the world.

VIKTOR

The halls of the academy were always bustling, students rushing between lectures, papers scattered across desks, and the constant hum of ambition hanging in the air. Y/N was no exception, constantly moving, juggling tasks, and brimming with ideas. It was her first semester, and she was already feeling the pressure of living up to the academy’s towering expectations.

Lost in her thoughts about an upcoming presentation, her arms full of papers and books, Y/N’s focus slipped for just a moment too long. Her foot caught on the corner of a rug, and the next thing she knew, her carefully organized notes and diagrams were flying out of her grasp, scattering like autumn leaves across the polished floor.

Before she could fully register what had happened, a soft but firm voice broke through her embarrassment. “Careful now. The floor may not be as forgiving as it looks.”

Startled, Y/N glanced up to see a young man crouched beside her, already gathering her scattered papers. His lean frame was accentuated by the slightly oversized academy uniform, his posture careful as he balanced against a sturdy cane. His unruly brown hair seemed perpetually at odds with the studious air he carried. Most striking, though, were his golden-brown eyes—intense and thoughtful, but not unkind.

“I—uh, thank you,” Y/N stammered, still flustered as she scrambled to pick up the rest of her notes.

“It happens,” the young man replied in a calm, measured tone, his Czech accent thick. He leaned slightly on his cane as he handed her a stack of neatly organized papers. “You’re not the first to underestimate how much these corridors demand your attention.”

She managed a sheepish smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, I suppose balance isn’t my strong suit.”

“Balance,” he mused, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His cane tapped lightly against the floor as he shifted his weight. “An elusive concept, especially here. The academy is good at keeping everyone on edge.”

Y/N accepted the papers, her initial embarrassment giving way to curiosity. “Thanks again. I guess I owe you one.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “No debt incurred,” he said with a faint chuckle. “Just… perhaps slow down a little next time. Rushing rarely yields the best results.”

As the weight of her papers settled back in her arms, Y/N hesitated. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Viktor,” he said simply, his cane tapping softly as he adjusted his stance. He offered a slight nod, polite but reserved. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” she replied, finally feeling steady on her feet. “First semester, and clearly still figuring out how to survive the academy.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Viktor said, his tone thoughtful as he studied her. “Even those of us who’ve been here longer still stumble now and then—metaphorically, of course.” A faint flicker of amusement danced in his eyes.

Y/N smiled, her initial awkwardness fading into warmth. “Well, Viktor, thanks for the save. I’ll try not to make this a habit.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “See that you don’t. But… if you do find yourself in need of assistance, you know where to find me.” With a slight dip of his head, Viktor turned and walked down the corridor, his cane tapping a quiet rhythm on the polished floor.

As Y/N watched him disappear into the crowd of students, she couldn’t help but feel that this brief encounter was the start of something far more meaningful than a simple rescue.

JAYVIK

The flickering fluorescent lights of the lab cast long shadows over the scattered blueprints, glowing crystals, and intricate machinery. It was late—most of the academy's halls were silent, the usual bustle of students and researchers replaced by an eerie stillness. Perfect timing for someone who didn’t belong.

Y/N moved carefully, her footsteps light as she navigated the sprawling lab. Her Zaunite instincts guided her, sharp and survival-driven. The tools and devices on the workbenches were unlike anything she had seen back home—polished, cutting-edge, and dripping with the wealth of Piltover’s privileged elite.

It wasn’t personal. She didn’t particularly want to steal from anyone. But things in Zaun had been dire lately, and every stolen blueprint or shard of hextech crystal could mean another week of food, another day of keeping her family afloat.

Her gloved hand reached for a shimmering blue crystal embedded in an ornate device when a sharp voice cut through the silence.

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Y/N froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She turned slowly, her mind racing for an excuse. Behind her stood a tall man with broad shoulders, his brow furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. His piercing brown eyes bore into hers, his expression a mix of suspicion and annoyance.

“I—uh…” Y/N began, but another voice interrupted her.

“She doesn’t look like one of the academy staff,” Viktor said, stepping out from behind a stack of blueprints. He leaned on his cane, his golden-brown eyes sharp and calculating as they swept over her. “Too quiet. Too... resourceful.”

Y/N’s gaze darted between the two men. She was cornered. Jayce’s strong, commanding presence on one side, and Viktor’s sharp intellect on the other. Her hands instinctively tightened around the crystal, but she knew she wouldn’t get far if she tried to run.

“I can explain,” Y/N said quickly, raising her hands in mock surrender, the crystal still clutched in one fist. “I wasn’t going to take much, I swear. Just... borrowing.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. “Borrowing? From our lab?” His tone was incredulous. “You know, breaking in and stealing aren’t exactly the best ways to ask for a favor.”

Viktor tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “You’re from Zaun, aren’t you?” he asked, his accent softening as he studied her.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard.

“Your tools,” Viktor interrupted, nodding toward the small pouch at her hip. “Zaunite make. Efficient but improvised. And your shoes—worn from the chemical streets.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You’re observant,” she muttered, uneasy under his scrutiny.

Jayce glanced at Viktor, his frustration softening slightly. “So, what now?” he asked, clearly deferring to his partner.

Viktor considered Y/N for a long moment before speaking. “Running won’t help you. Security will catch you before you leave the building. And if they don’t, Piltover’s lawkeepers will. But…” His gaze flicked to the device she had tried to steal. “Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

Y/N frowned, her suspicion evident. “An arrangement?”

“You’re resourceful,” Viktor said simply, his tone calm and measured. “And I assume you wouldn’t be risking your neck unless you truly needed to. If you’re willing to explain your situation, perhaps we can find a way to help each other.”

Jayce crossed his arms but nodded, his earlier irritation giving way to a grudging respect. “We’re not heartless. If there’s something you need, just tell us. Stealing isn’t the only way.”

Y/N hesitated, her eyes darting between the two of them. There was no malice in their words, only curiosity and... understanding? She wasn’t sure what she expected when she’d broken into this lab, but it definitely wasn’t this.

“Fine,” she said at last, lowering her hands and relinquishing the crystal. “I’ll talk. But don’t think for a second that I trust either of you.”

Jayce chuckled softly. “Fair enough. Trust takes time.”

Viktor gave a faint smile, his grip on his cane tightening as he gestured toward a nearby stool. “Then let’s start now. Sit. We’re listening.”

As Y/N sat down, her nerves still buzzing, she realized that she might have just stumbled into something far more complicated—and far more intriguing—than she’d anticipated.

VANDER

The Last Drop wasn’t much to look at back then. It wasn’t the thriving hub it would later become, but a small, rough-hewn bar tucked into the heart of Zaun’s chaos. The air inside carried a mix of sweat, cheap ale, and the faint metallic tang of machinery. It was a refuge for the weary and the desperate—a place where even the broken found a moment of peace.

Vander was behind the bar, as usual, wiping down the stained counter with a rag that had seen better days. He wasn’t much older than twenty, broad-shouldered and already carrying the weight of the Undercity on his back. Silco sat at a bar, drinking from a glass as he writes in a journal.

The door creaked open, and Vander glanced up out of habit. He expected another familiar face, maybe a regular, or some poor soul looking for a drink to drown their troubles. What he didn’t expect was her.

Felicia strode in first, her usual swagger in place, but behind her was someone new—a woman he’d never seen before. Y/N stepped into the dim light of the bar, and for a moment, Vander forgot how to breathe.

She didn’t belong here—not in the way most people did. Zaun had a way of dulling beauty, grinding it down with grime and despair, but she seemed untouched by it. Her eyes carried a spark of resilience, her posture a quiet defiance against the city that tried to break everyone. To Vander, she was a flower blooming in the middle of a wasteland.

“Oi, Vander!” Felicia’s voice snapped him out of his daze. “Quit staring and come over here.”

Silco smirked from his seat, clearly catching Vander’s momentary lapse. Vander muttered something under his breath and stepped around the bar, doing his best to play it cool as Felicia waved him over.

“This is Y/N,” Felicia said, gesturing toward her companion. “She’s new to this part of Zaun, figured I’d show her around. Thought it’d be good for her to meet the famous Vander.”

“Famous, huh?” Vander said, his voice gruff as he extended a hand.

Y/N smiled, and the warmth in it caught him off guard. She took his hand, her grip firm but gentle. “I’ve heard a bit about you,” she said. “Felicia talks like you’re some kind of legend.”

Vander chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Don’t believe everything she says. I’m just a guy with a bar.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Felicia chimed in, slapping Vander on the shoulder. “He’s got a heart as big as this place—and fists to match.”

Vander shot Felicia a warning look, but she only grinned. Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and melodic, and Vander felt something stir in his chest.

“Well,” Y/N said, her gaze meeting his, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Vander. This place has a charm to it.”

“Charm, huh?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s not a word I hear much around here.”

She shrugged. “It’s all in how you look at it.”

Vander nodded, his respect for her growing. It wasn’t often someone saw Zaun with anything other than disdain or despair. “Can I get you a drink?” he offered, his voice softening.

“Sure,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “But only if you join me for one.”

For the first time in a long while, Vander felt a flicker of something he’d thought Zaun had taken from him—hope. He poured two drinks and joined her at the bar, Felicia smirking knowingly as she goes to Silco’s side, the two watching with a smirk

As the night went on, Vander found himself captivated by Y/N’s stories, her laughter, and the way she seemed to light up the dim room. In a city that thrived on shadows, she was a rare glimpse of light, and Vander couldn’t help but wonder if meeting her was the beginning of something he’d been waiting for his whole life.

SILCO

The night Vander betrayed him was etched into Silco’s mind like a blade carving into flesh. The cold waters of the canal still burned in his lungs, and the searing pain from his infected eye was a constant reminder of the man who had once called him brother.

He’d managed to escape, his hands slick with blood, the knife he used to fend off Vander still trembling in his grasp. Every step felt heavier than the last as he stumbled through the labyrinthine streets of Zaun, his vision blurring from pain and exhaustion.

When he finally collapsed in a dark, narrow alleyway, Silco wasn’t sure if he’d ever rise again. The city around him was a blur of muffled sounds and shifting shadows before everything went black.

==

Silco awoke with a start, his instincts kicking in before his body could fully respond. He bolted upright, only to be met with a sharp, stabbing pain radiating from his face and ribs. His hand instinctively reached for his eye, but a firm, unfamiliar voice cut through the haze.

“Don’t touch that.”

His head snapped toward the source, his remaining eye narrowing. A woman stood in the doorway, holding a small basin of water and a cloth. She looked calm, her expression unreadable, but there was an undeniable edge to her tone—a warning.

“Who are you?” Silco demanded, his voice rough, his body tense despite the obvious strain it was under.

“Someone who just saved your life,” Y/N replied, stepping closer and setting the basin down on a small, rickety table. “You were half-dead when I found you. If you move too much, you’ll tear the stitches I just put in.”

Silco’s gaze flickered to his arm, now wrapped tightly in makeshift bandages. His mind raced, trying to piece together how he’d ended up here. “Why?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his hostility. “Why what? Why did I help you?” She shrugged. “Let’s just say I don’t like seeing people bleed out in the streets, even in a place like this.”

“Charity is rare in Zaun,” Silco said, his suspicion evident.

She let out a dry laugh. “You don’t say.” Her tone softened slightly as she sat on a stool beside him, wringing out the cloth. “I’m no saint, but I couldn’t just leave you there. Now, sit still. Your eye’s infected, and if you want to keep what’s left of it, you’ll let me help.”

Silco hesitated, every muscle in his body screaming at him to leave, to get away from this stranger. But the throbbing in his eye and the sharp pain in his side were undeniable. Reluctantly, he leaned back against the wall, his remaining eye watching her every move.

Y/N worked in silence for a while, dabbing gently at his swollen, reddened eye. Her hands were steady, her touch careful despite the obvious discomfort it caused him.

“You’re lucky I found you when I did,” she said after a moment. “Another hour out there, and you’d have been done for.”

“Lucky,” Silco repeated bitterly, his jaw tightening. “That’s one way to put it.”

She paused, meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. But whatever it was, it left you in a bad way. You should rest.”

“I can’t stay here,” Silco said firmly, starting to rise again despite the pain.

Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down. “And go where? Back into the streets? You’ll be dead by morning.”

Her words hung in the air, and for the first time, Silco found himself unable to argue. He hated the vulnerability, hated relying on someone else, but something about Y/N’s unwavering composure kept him from pushing her away.

“You’re stubborn,” he muttered, leaning back reluctantly.

She smirked, sitting back on her stool. “Takes one to know one.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Silco allowed himself to close his eye and let the tension in his body ease, if only slightly. The woman tending to him was a mystery, but as the night wore on, he couldn’t deny that her care was keeping him alive.

And in the shadows of Zaun, where trust was scarce and betrayal ran deep, that simple act of kindness was enough to plant the seed of something unexpected—something Silco would carry with him long after he left her care.

JINX/POWDER

Y/N once lived in Piltover with her mother, enjoying a modest but stable life. However, when her mother passed away unexpectedly, the weight of mounting bills and the high cost of living in the gilded city became too much for her to bear. With no other options, she made the difficult decision to move to Zaun, a place she had only heard about in whispers. The contrast was stark—Piltover's polished streets were replaced by Zaun's gritty alleys and thick, smoky air. Struggling to find her footing, she spent months navigating her new reality, unsure of where she belonged.

Fate intervened when Y/N stumbled across Silco in an alleyway, unconscious and wounded. Taking a risk, she helped him, unaware that this single act of compassion would alter the course of her life. (Silco's Part) After recovering, Silco saw something unique in Y/N—her resilience and resourcefulness—and offered her work. What began as a professional arrangement quickly deepened into a bond built on trust and mutual respect, a connection that only grew stronger over the years. Their dynamic shifted again one evening when Silco arrived at their base of operations with a new addition to their unnatural family.

Powder.

She was small, thin, with wild blue hair, and bruises marring her skin. But it wasn’t just the physical damage that caught your attention—it was the hurt in her eyes. The guilt. The grief. And something darker beneath the surface. You could see it clearly, even through the panic and shock she was clearly experiencing.

“She’s... she’s alive,” Silco muttered, almost to himself, as he carefully laid Powder down on a makeshift cot. His eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with soot and grime from the aftermath. “She needs care.”

You nodded silently, stepping forward with a calm that belied the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You were no stranger to pain, and you knew what needed to be done. You had seen plenty of broken souls, but something about this girl... something about her was different. She wasn’t just another casualty of Zaun’s brutality—she was a spark, a raw potential waiting to be shaped.

You crouched beside her, noting how tightly she was curled in on herself. She was trembling, hands clenched into fists at her sides as though bracing for something. Her wide eyes, still filled with fear, flickered to Silco’s figure, and you could see the tension in her shoulders, the uncertainty in her gaze.

“Powder,” you said gently, your voice soft but steady. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

She didn’t respond, but you saw her stiffen slightly at your words. Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, and for a moment, the silence hung in the air between you both. You continued your work, not rushing, not pushing her to speak, only ensuring she was comfortable and that her injuries weren’t as severe as they seemed.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” You muttered, more to yourself than to her. “Zaun doesn’t make it easy for anyone.”

Silco stepped back, leaning against the wall. “She... doesn't talk. Hasn't since the explosion. Going to need a lot of patience with this one.”

“I can handle patience,” you said quietly, glancing at Silco with an understanding nod. There was something else there, though, that you could see behind his eyes—a recognition. Maybe even a kind of resignation. He had likely seen far too many broken people in his time, but for the first time, you saw a flicker of doubt in him. Whether it was for himself, for her, or both, you couldn’t be sure.

But the moment you looked back down at Powder, you knew she needed something more than just care. She needed someone who could see past the explosion, the destruction, and the chaos she had been a part of. She needed someone who could help her rebuild what had been torn apart—not just her body, but her heart.

“Hey,” you spoke again, this time more firmly. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I know it feels heavy right now, but you can’t carry it forever. It’s not all on you.”

The words didn’t seem to break through at first. Powder stayed silent, still as stone. But you could see the smallest tremor in her hands, the slight quiver in her lip.

The guilt was suffocating her.

"I'm a monster… A Jinx," Powder's voice was soft, barely a whisper, and laced with hesitation. "It's my fault."

You moved a little closer, sitting down beside her. You didn’t touch her, but you stayed there, just close enough for her to feel your presence, warm and steady. You understood what it was like to feel like the world was on your shoulders, to feel like you couldn’t make amends, but you knew one thing: she had to be given the chance to heal. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but it would happen.

“You're not a monster,” you said softly, placing a gentle hand on the girl's knee. "And it's not your fault. You're just a very brave girl."

For a long moment, the room was silent except for the distant hum of Zaun’s underbelly and the faint sounds of Powder’s breath. Silco didn’t respond, but you saw the sharpness in his gaze soften, just a fraction. His stance relaxed, and his lips pressed into a thin line, contemplating your words.

Finally, Powder’s voice, quiet and small, cut through the stillness. “I... I didn’t mean to...”

“I know,” you said gently, offering her a small, comforting smile. “But it’s not about what happened. It’s about what you do next.”

The weight of her past might have been too heavy to erase, but there was still time for her to change. There was still time for healing. And in that moment, you knew: whatever happened next, you would be there to guide her through it.

A new chapter had begun for both you and Powder, one where she wouldn’t have to walk alone in the shadows of Zaun any longer.

[thelemoncoffee]

shout out to the saiouma server i'm in for probably the funniest saiouma expectation subversion concept i've heard in a while

the idea is while we all know and expect people to be suspicious of Kokichi dating Shuichi for his lying and theft and general shifty behavior- that's practically a given with saiouma- it is much funnier to think about it the other way round. ie; Shuichi does stuff (likely relating to his detective work) that out of context looks super sus to all of Kokichi's friends

i can imagine like half of DICE being concerned Kokichi is dating a serial killer because of how way too much he knows about murder, while the other half is like "this guy sounds like a shifty criminal.... good! Kokichi finally found some to match his freak"

how aware of this saiouma is and how they handle it is up to y'all, i just want DICE being fidgety around the maybe serial killer Kokichi is smooching

[giggly-squiggily]

Okay you can disregard the last adk I sent for Gojo and Geto (my bad 😅)

Instead, what about the trio (Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara) getting back at Gojo for always tickling them and they succeeded

Can't wait to see what you do 💖🫶🏾

EEEE This is a bit older but YES! Gladys you always have the best prompts! I love the idea of the trio getting Gojo- my heart is so happy writing this sakjerajkejkrajkerjk I've gotcha covered! :D

“Okay guys- time to retract and regroup!” Yuji stood tall before his group, puffing his chest to exert powerful energy. Did he truly know exactly what he was saying? Not really- but he watched enough business dramas to get the idea. “Our last attempt to get Gojo-sensei was a bust. How are we gonna recover from it?”

“You mean your last attempt. I told you it wouldn’t work.” Megumi rolled his eyes, arms stretched as Nobara painted his fingernails. Their impromptu movie night turned into a salon day for the boys when her new nail polish set came in the mail. “You really should give up.”

“Never!” Yuji struck a pose, eyes ablaze. “Not after that last crushing defeat! I was so close! I could practically taste his laughter!”

“Gross- how do you even taste laughter?” Nobara nodded at her work, pride in her growing smile. “Come here, Itadori. It’s your turn.”

“Ooo, make me pretty!” Yuji slid over and stuck his hands out, laughing as she wrinkled her nose at the state of his cuticles. “Seriously though- I think it’s possible! If we work as a team-”

“Pass.” Megumi and Nobara spoke in sync.

“Come on, you two!” He pleaded, eyes puppy-like. “Think about it! Gooms- how many times has Gojo Sensei tickled you since taking you in all those years ago?”

“All the time. Relentlessly.”

“Right! Isn’t it time for payback?” He turned to Nobara next. “'Bara- don’t you love chaos? Don’t you ever wonder what Gojo-sensei looks like when tickled?”

“Hmm..that is tempting.” She mused, finishing up her work on Yuji’s fingers. “Screw it- I’m in!”

“Seriously?” Megumi asked while Yuji whooped.

“Yeah! I’ve made the impossible happen before.” She grinned, confidence radiating off her like waves. “I can do it again!”

“He’ll kill us.”

“Us?” 

“...Fine, I’m in.” Megumi resigned, earning a round of cheers. He hid his smile in his soda can. “So how exactly are we doing this?”

“I have a plan.” Yuji gestured them over. “But it’s pretty bold.”

~~~

Gojo wasn’t a simple man. He had a knack for catching onto mischief- especially when it came to his three students.

“Hey, Gojo?” Megumi was standing before him, cheeks red and hands shaking as they pressed further into his pockets. “Can I…get a hug?”

That didn’t mean his brain always won over his heart.

Gojo gaped, brows to his hairline and jaw dropped. He took off his glasses, cleaning them on his sleeve and putting them back on to make sure his eyes were working. “Megumi? Did-did you just ask me for a hug?”

The younger boy seemed to shrink on himself, looking an adorable combination of both frustrated and mortified. “Yes..?”

“Oh…Oh how I longed for this day.” Gojo cried crocodile tears as he wiped at his cheeks, sniffing a few times. “The day you see me as your dad! The day you let me love you like the son I’ve always wanted!”

“I never said that. If anything, you’re more of a weird uncle.” Megumi frowned harder, glaring at the obnoxiously delighted man. “Nevermind, I take it back. Keep your hug.”

“Wait, Goomy!” Gojo appeared before him, arms out and eyes twinking. “You can’t just go up to someone offering a hug and not follow through!”

“I didn’t offer-”

“Come here.” He did a little hop forward, brows bouncing as he gestured Megumi into his embrace. “Where my hug at?”

“Don’t say that- now you really sound like a weird uncle.” Megumi crossed the distance, wrapping his arms around Gojo and feeling the other man startle. “There.”

After a moment, Gojo’s arms down to embrace him, his cheek against Megumi’s crown and his squeeze a level of comfort the younger man wasn’t expecting. He felt bad for what was to come. “Sorry, Gojo.”

“I know. I forgive you.” Gojo didn’t sound mad, nor did he release his embrace. He simply held on as Nobara and Yuji charged them. “It was worth the hug though.”

Seconds later, they hit the ground hard.

~~~

“Gehehahhahahah! Yohoohu threehehehe! Cohoohhome on, spahahhare your tehahahhcher!” Gojo cried out, three sets of hands going to work to break him down. To his amusment- it seemed they picked up on his own tickle techniques. “I’ll gihihiihive yohhohohu ehahhehextra crehheehdit!”

“For what? You don’t even assign homework!” Yuji pointed out, pinning both of Gojo’s wrists above his head while his companions went to work. “Wait- don’t actually assign homework now, Gojo-sensei!”

“You blockhead! Now he’s definitely gonna give us homework!” Nobara gave him a look from her spot by his legs, one hand holding down Gojo’s kicking leg while the other skittered along the back of his knee. “Keep tickling him until he takes it back!”

“Yeah!”

“Whahahait, wahahahit-ahahahahhahah!” Gojo arched with a cackle, not bothering with resisting. Even if he wanted to, he doubt he could with Megumi poking along the back of his ribs. He just had to go for the worst spots. “I hahahhahte hohohohmewohohohork! Whohohoh the hehehehell asiiihihihsgn’s hihihihis stuhuhudent’s hhoiohohmework?”

“Way to set an example as a teacher.” Megumi tsked him, stretching his hands further to really get his lower back set. The action alone was enough to have him dying. “So shameful.”

“Dohohohn’t you stahhahart on mehehee-ehehheheheehehehhe, nhoohoho cohohome ohohohon!” Gojo weakly tugged on his arms when Yuji dared to tickle an armpit. “Fihihihihne, fhihihihihne, no hohohohmewhohohoohrk! Nohohohoo hhoohohohmewohohohork!”

“Yay!” Nobara and Yuji cheered, briefly stopping their ticklish antics to highfive overhead. “Wait- why were we talking about homework again?” Yuji suddenly asked, making all three pause.

Unfortunately for them, that was the moment Gojo chose to counter.

“No homework, but here comes your extra lessons!” He moved like lightning, gathering all three of them up in seconds before bringing them to the ground, tickling like crazy. Squeals and shrieks and swears filled the area as he rapidly clawed at ribs and bellies and necks. “This will teach you to tickle your dear ol’ teacher!”

“Aheahhaha! Soohoho yohohohou’re finahahahahlly admihihihiting your ohohohld?” Yuji cried out, shrieking when Gojo doubled his efforts. “I tahhahake it bahahahck, I tahhahke it bnahahahck!”

“Ehehehehhhehehe! Thihihis wahahsn’t eehehehven my ihihiheheheha!” Nobara cried out with a high pitched cackle, scrunching up as her neck was pinched at. “It wahhahhs Yuhuhuhuhuhji’s!”

“Ihihihit was ahhahahall hihihihim! Gehehhet Ihihihihitahahhadori!” Megumi cried, pushing at the hand against his stomach. “Stahhahahap!”

“Call me old and then demand me to stop? You three are rather cheeky!” Gojo chided with mock disappointment, unable to fight off his smile. “Tell me I’m a great teacher and I’ll do it. Come on- sing me your praises.”

“Yohohohu’re grhehahahahaht! Yoohohohu’re ghreahhahahhahhat!” The three of them chorused in various tones of mirth, making Gojo laugh with them. After getting one last good tickle, he finally relented.

“Okay- lesson’s over.” He stood back with hands on his hips, laughing at the sight of his students piling up on one another in giggles. “You three are adorable..say, why are you all wearing nail polish?” He blinked at their sparkly fingers, only just now registering the look. 

Megumi seemed to flush redder as he struggled to hide his hands. Nobara meanwhile sat up and gleefully stuck out her fingers to show off her work. “Do you love them? They’re holo!”

 “Wow, would you look at that? I wish I knew you were doing manicures; I’d have you do mine.”

“I can do yours!” Nobara offered, Yuji joining in gleefully at the idea.

“Yeah! Gojo-sensei, match with us! Nobara even did Goom’s toes!”

“Don’t tell him that- get off me!” Megumi fumed, struggling to shove his friend off who dived for his feet. Gojo cackled, clapping his hands as he took in the sight of his beloved students.

“Sounds good. Let me know when your next nail appointment opens up. I’ll gladly join in.”

~~~

Nanami blinked, brow furrowed. He didn’t know what it was about Gojo, but the longer he looked, the more he felt something was…different.

When the blonde caught his eye, he flashed his fingers, making the rainbow against his fingernails dance. “My students.”

“That’s nice.” Nanami nodded, turning back to look out at the horizon.

A brief pause. “Wanna see my toenails?”

“Keep your shoes on, Gojo.”

Thanks for reading!

[rey-jake-therapist]

Have you seen this before? It's the original first two scenes with Halbrand and Galadriel, named Aric and Woman here! Apparently Morfydd and Charlie used them in their auditions.

First scene Woman: Get out of here, what are you doing? Aric: Going with the better odds. Woman: You think you are more likely to fare with me than your friends? Aric: Those soldiers will find the ? next change of the guards and send out the hounds, why be a part of a larger target? Woman: You are using your people as a distraction? Aric: They are more attractive prey. Woman: That’s monstrous! Aric: They are injured, they are a thousand miles from safety, they are starving, they are practically almost already dead anyway. Woman: You could have helped them. Aric: There’s no room for mercy if one wants to survive. Besides, you would be wise to focus more on your own choice. Woman: Which is? Aric: Why, you could kick me out. If you like. Send me away or… Woman: Or? Aric: Or admit, that you stand a much better chance with an actual pair of eyes on your back. Even if they do belong to someone whose company you find as distasteful as mine. So then, where are we headed?

Second scene Aric: Any idea where those soldiers were from? Woman: There are many places in this world stranger than you can imagine, older than you ever visited… Aric: Do you ever simply just say no? Woman: Wherever they are from I fear we have not journeyed far enough to ensure they don’t catch up. Aric: They are on horses, we are on foot. No matter where we journey, they’ll catch up. Woman: Then we shall not find safety until we reach the castle. Aric: Well, that depends on which castle it is. Certainly my safety does. Woman: Mine is not guaranteed either. Aric: Is that so? Voluntarily separated from her squadron. I didn’t take you for a deserter. Woman: I had work to attend to. Aric: Oh, sure. Very important business. Woman: You hate farlanders too then? Aric: That wasn’t farlanders who threw me out of my home, left me with nothing. Woman: Do you wish to reclaim it? Aric: Well, I reckon I’m short an army. Woman: So you simply start over? Aric: Look, you didn’t cause my suffering, nor can you fix it. No matter how strong your will or your pride.

No, I didn't even hear of it! I've read on Reddit yesterday about this Eric character, but I had no idea the script was available online... Thanks for sharing! I think I like their banter even more in this dialogue than the version we had in the show...

"Even if they do belong to someone whose company you find as distasteful as mine." "Do you simply just say no?"

Gawd we were robbed..

[quibbs126]

So because for whatever reason, TFA Sentinel has been incredibly prevalent in my mind today, I decided I might as well draw him

The first big issue was drawing that goddamn face. The big chin caused problems for me because it changes how I need to draw the face. So he didn’t really end up looking great on my first try (top left)

But by the second drawing I found a way, one that stuck throughout the rest of the drawing as I had the sketch on hand to look at. This is how I had it for that last one

But yeah, scheming Sentinel probably ended up turning out the best in my opinion

I still need to work on his body proportions though, the bottom left especially is pretty wonky. But maybe with some more practice I’ll get it down more

It’s the shovel things on his shoulder that get me the most, I feel like I make them too small but also they cover too much area at the same time

The bottom left I drew because one of my references made me realize he had some absolutely huge hands

Due to proportion wonkiness, I don’t think I made them big enough to convey the actual point, but at least there’s the ref to get what I’m saying

The bottom right meanwhile I drew mostly because I wanted to draw him with big shook eyes. Then I made it a reference to when I tried to draw TFA Optimus by making him shocked by TFO Sentinel

But yeah, I think it turned out relatively well, and I wouldn’t mind drawing him more. Should probably try drawing him with Optimus in all honesty, and maybe Elita/Blackarachnia

I really don’t know why he’s a favorite of mine, but he is. He’s a little bastard and I like seeing him suffer

Maybe it was the fanfic, maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know but he’s mine now

But I’m also really sad that he’ll never get the chance to have a proper character arc. I know I’ve spoken about it before, but I’m sad about it again. Granted, the show might never have given him one (and tbh I kind of lean more on the idea that he wouldn’t) but that’s one of the beauties of cancelled seasons, you can imagine anything was going to happen if it was plausible enough

I think he needs to properly suffer before getting a proper arc though. Or I guess have that be what drives him to change his ways. Not really sure what the suffering would be though, since I don’t think getting punished for his shadiness as acting Magnus would do that, it’d be more comeuppance than anything

I’m thinking it should deal with his organic phobia, like have him be made a techno-organic or something, if only temporarily. But even if temporary, he has to properly suffer like that for a while, maybe gaining more of an understanding of what Blackarachnia’s gone through and/or more of an understanding of organics

Honestly considering Blackarachnia was going to be the villain of Season 4, it probably wouldn’t be that implausible, I just don’t know if they would. And it’ll never happen anyways, so who cares?

Ah well, I suppose. That’s what fanfiction is for. So I need a multi chapter fanfic about a Sentinel redemption arc. Maybe it could be me one day, but I don’t have the commitment for that right now, just like every other idea I had

Anyways, I’m getting carried away now. Sentinel is neat and I don’t care if people hate him, he’s special to me, even if I don’t know why

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

can i request killer sans x a reader that has body dysmorphia and bc of that they keep stressing themselves out w diets and working out and killer helps them out? tyyyy if u do <33 want to let yknow i also love ur writing!!

I hope this meets your expectations! I myself didn't ever have body dysmorphia, yet I tried my best to write this as accurately as I can.

Also, obviously not canon Killer bc canon Killer wouldn't give a fuck about anyone.

Featuring: Killer.

Masterlist

He never understood why you always stressed yourself because of diets and daily hours spent at the gym. And he never will, because for him, your body is already perfect no matter the chub on your body.

Yet you didn't think the same, and that bugged him, a lot.

Seeing you practically starve yourself willingly to fit in the society's views made him mad. He saw you always check the calories of the things you bought- leaving things you loved just because it'd make you "fat" in your eyes. It angered him.. watching you worry about your body mass like it's a broken bone and not something that exists for a reason.

.

You looked at the mirror again, barely seeing anything on the darkness of the room, your hands touching the soft skin of your almost flat belly. Your ribs and bone structure could be clearly seen being clenched by your skin, yet it was not enough..

"..I'm still fat.."

You frowned as you turned around and climbed back to bed, you've gotten sick and Killer didn't let you out of the house, that meant no gym, no working out, and he was the one preparing your meals and making sure you didn't forcefully throw up in the toilet. You had no idea how he convinced Nightmare to let him have quicker missions so he could come home, yet he didn't bother explaining to you.

The sound of a door opening and closing could be faintly heard, followed along with footsteps of the person you already expected. Turning your head your eyes met with Killer's empty sockets, a plastic bag in his hand which he put on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed and kissing your forehead.

"How are ya feeling babe? Better?"

"mm... A bit.."

Your lips mumbled softly seeing him smile, grab the bag and put it in front of you.

"Damn it's dark in here huh? No idea how ya can see anything!"

The skeleton jokes standing up and approaching the window blinds, your hands fell inside the bag taking various chocolates, sweets and snacks from it. As the sun light suddenly shined through the window, you turned a package of cookies around to check the calories on the back, only to notice everything except the expiration date was scribbled in back, no numbers or ingredients that always worried your head were visible.

"Don't worry, made sure none of these have something yer allergic to."

He assured stretching his back and getting his jacket off, tossing it somewhere inside his side of the wardrobe and jumping face into the soft mattress of the bed, letting out a tired sign before turning his face to you.

"Killer.. I..."

You paused.

"..Thanks.."

He smirked sitting and covering half his body with the warm sheets, sticking his hand inside the plastic and grabbing a packet of crispy fries, opening it and quickly stuffing a whole bunch inside his mouth.

"mm, no problem babe, love ya."

His socket winked at you as his fangs crunched the fries. Your hand slowly opened the package of cookies and took a relaxed bite out of it. Maybe covering the calories of what you eat isn't a bad idea..

[theliteraryarchitect]

Hi, this is a really specific situation, but I'm at a loss. I had an accident that left me with lasting brain issues, and my writing has taken a hit. I went from being able to churn out a 3k word chapter in a day to needing an hour to write 50 words. I have so many ideas but can't express them, and I hate writing as a result. I know practice and just pushing through are going to be the main pieces of advice, but do you have any other suggestions or resources for someone who is having to re-learn how to be a writer?

Hey there! First off, I’m so sorry this response took me so long. Your Ask really stuck with me, and I wanted to give it the thought and care it deserves.

I can’t imagine how frustrating and heartbreaking it must be to go through such a big shift in your writing process. Losing that ease and flow—especially when you have so many ideas—is a huge adjustment. It’s a testament to your creativity and drive that you’re still thinking about how to keep writing despite the challenges.

You’re absolutely right that practice and pushing through are often the go-to advice, but I think it’s equally important to give yourself permission to grieve what’s changed. Writing can feel like such a core part of who we are, and when it’s harder than it used to be, it’s natural to feel a sense of loss.

Here are a few suggestions that might help as you navigate this:

1. Try Different Mediums: If typing feels like slogging through mud, maybe experiment with dictation software or voice-to-text tools. Speaking your ideas aloud could help you capture more words without the same strain.

2. Focus on Smaller Goals: Instead of trying to write full chapters, set tiny, manageable goals—like jotting down a single image or one sentence that excites you. Those little wins can add up and feel more achievable.

3. Explore New Ways of Outlining: If you’re struggling to get the words out, focus on the ideas instead. Create bullet points, mind maps, or even doodles to capture the essence of your story without the pressure of fully fleshed-out prose.

4. Be Kind to Yourself: This is the hardest one, but it’s so important. Writing isn’t just about the final product; it’s about the joy of creating. Even if the words come slower, every step you take is progress.

And don't forget to give yourself a ton of credit! Re-learning how to write in a way that works for you now is an incredible act of resilience. You’re still a writer, and your stories are still worth telling, even if the path looks different.

Hope this helps!

Bucket

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@theliteraryarchitect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler, a writer and developmental editor. For more writing help, download my Free Resource Library for Fiction Writers, join my email list, or check out my book The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers.

[kittyit]

one of the very offputting and indigestible things about a lot of modern media is the pivot to the quality being the same experience as reading fanfiction. I've only read a little fanfiction in my life, and of course, there are always stand outs in fan works. But I feel everyone can know what I mean when I say it's like reading fanfiction. And I feel like it's a spectrum. For example, right now I'm rereading Hench, and I would say there is a distinctly fanfiction flavor to the work, in that I can tell the author has read a lot of fanfiction, I can clearly guess at some of their favorite tags and tropes, the taste of fanfiction is in my mouth. However, the work itself is compelling enough, the characters flushed out an interesting enough, and the story inviting enough that I am able to bear it with grace. This is like the middle of the spectrum. The far end of the spectrum is when reading a book is exactly like reading a fanfiction (term for this? If the other is flavor...) It's all trope. it's cheap and unearned. It's shallow. It's enjoyable mostly to people who read a lot of fanfiction because it does exactly the same thing. Fanfiction flavored is sometimes tolerable to me, but I resent it, especially when the tropes are paraphilias and fetishes in disguise, but not only then. It's distasteful. And more and more new books and TV series and movies are further and further on the spectrum of how much like fanfiction they feel, how clearly they are made by creators who grew up in fandom, "living and breathing fandom". And because fanfiction-adjacent creations are stripped down to the most appealing and easily accessible plot points and paths, characters & emotions for a fandom-steeped or fandom-ready (innocent) audience, they sell well, they test well with test audiences, they make money. I just routinely see the idea that fandom is basically a free space, it's not hurting anyone everyone's having fun, why do we need to be critical of this? And it's like well it's profoundly transforming the entertainment industry, which profoundly transforms what media people grow up on which is certainly something worth thinking about. And media literacy is a term that's now reached internet driven semantic satiation and become a meme. Instead of something that is important to moving through the world and a practice you can develop your entire life. And I hate how defensive everyone gets about this. I have no power to take away your fandom. I just want think critically and deeply about this like any other social phenomenon.

[gepm251-blog]

If I have to be honest here, I find this approach to be wrong too.

I think it is very much shaped on the idea of myths to be akin to a holy text, when they are not.

Zeus acts as he does because he is a king and that is how the Greeks thought a king acts to show his power and superiority.

We read the myths to know how the Greeks thought of the gods, through that we realize their aspects and the way they relate to eachother.

That doesn't mean that what happened in the myths is real or that it is an allegory: they were stories told for fun, for art and for politics.

The myths reveal more about the people who told them then about the gods, it's by reading their minds that we find a bit of the gods too.

Apollo is related to Gaia, for example, we know because in several myths they conspire together. Makes sense, after all many of the temples of Gaia related to prophecy then became his temples and the way prophecy works for Apollo is that knowledge in its raw form is the essence of ctonic gods (Dionysus, Gaia, Persephone...), translated imperfectly by Apollo's art and his priests.

Not an allegory then, but a reflection of a way of seeing things, of unconscious knowledge and conscious wisdom and of events forgotten to time.

Discarding the myths or rewriting them is foolish. And it is lazy. Put on the study and the scary will become known, the repugnant will become understood. Face the people that preceded us and find their gods: the gods do not change, nor our understanding of them.

Also, I do not believe there is any talking with the gods. Lucky those who can interact with them: the very idea perplexes me.

Maybe it's a fruit of the ignorance of my family, but we take a practical approach to the gods: you do build relationships with them, in the sense that you carry more favour with a god to which you have abundantly sacrificed and prayed, but it is not a personal relationship, there is very little dialogue.

If people can take that route, may they be healthy and blessed: I'll never be able to have a chat with Poti Apollo and ask him how he thinks of things, as he is not a person and doesn't have a mother or a father, nor a friend or a lover; as those are still stories we tell to understand and for art and for politics.

A conversation about King Zeus and Queen Hera's relationship. And a narrative on why we can't read the mythos and perceive them as truth.

Come with me on a bit of a journey.

Throughout modern media and historical accounts, we see that King Zeus and Queen Hera have a marriage that can only be described as tumultuous. King Zeus, a known cheater and liar, married to Queen Hera, his sister, and the Goddess of Marriage and Fidelity. Women prayed to Queen Hera to be blessed with a Marriage unlike Her own - one of faith, one of trust. One of reciprocity.

King Zeus is depicted in mythos as being disrespectful of His Wife. In Homer's Iliad, we see several instances in which Queen Hera attempts to revolt against His word, and very quickly, She is punished or shot down. King Zeus ruled over Her with an Iron Fist, as was expected of the Patriarch of the Ancient Greek Household. Especially Kings.

Not acknowledging this fact would be negligent. The Ancient Greek Household had a very particular rule of order - especially amongst royalty. A King ruled over all, his Wife was to listen, and the children were to fall in line. This was the standard for the time.

However, times have changed. With this change, the perception of their relationship must change. In the modern era, the relationship between man and woman looks much different. At least, the ideal looks different.

The newer generation values a relationship where both parties, regardless of sex or gender, are equals. There is no distinct breadwinner, there is no distinct person who "wears the pants" unless otherwise communicated. And King Zeus and Queen Hera reflect this. I have spent plenty of time with the two of them as of late, and they are nothing like the myths depict. King Zeus speaks highly of His Wife. And the few conversations I've had with Queen Hera, She sings His praises, just as He does for her.

Now, in terms of mythology itself...

Here is how I break it down.

Let us say, for the sake of examples, you have a governing document written 400 years ago. It was written based on the ideals of the people 400 years ago, what they needed, wanted, and what they thought was best. And they never changed them. Sure, the document has been translated time and time again as the language becomes more ancient, but other than this, they don't touch it.

Now, 400 years later, in a developed society with new ideals and new ideologies based on that of the old, you have two options. You can either take the document as it is, literally with zero nuance. Or, you can look at it as a breathing document and shape it to fit the ideals of the new society you live in.

This is how people tend to look at mythology. Mythic Literalists, and Mythic Revisionists, as I'll call it. Mythic Literalists will take a work of mythology and look at it as it was written. King Zeus betrayed Queen Hera time and time again, and Queen Hera made the women He slept with face Her wrath rather than confronting King Zeus Herself. A Mythic Revivalist will take this and say that, yes, King Zeus did betray Queen Hera, and She did make other women face Her wrath. What is the allegory behind this? What is the message?

Taking Mythology at face value is what turns people against certain Gods and leads to villainization. The amount of people who turn their heads away from King Zeus due to the stigma that He's a horrible God who rules with an Iron First is astounding. They victimize other Gods like Queen Persephone and may claim She is unhappy as Queen of the Underworld. This is definitively false - both of these narratives. Which is why Mythic Revision is important to understanding the Gods in our modern day.

May I leave you with a bit of homework, so to speak. What is your favorite myth, how did you view it before, and how would you view it after the modern application of it? I look forward to hearing your points of view.