#so anyways!!! things are going GREAT here

[sunnylucy31]

Some asks I got for these in discord, reposting my answers here:

Pierce is on the spectrum, though she does a good job of masking most of the time (until you get her talking about her special interest which is stars and astrology (fun fact she can tell your star sign just by looking at you, very useful power)).

Frieda has BPD, and she handles it by not handling it (that is, she bottles up everything related to it, The Queen must not show weakness to subordinates). Her people don’t say her name and only refer to her as “the queen” out of respect, but a large part of her believes it’s because they disapprove of her (RSD will have you making logical leaps like that, it’s a bitch).

20. Frieda is often jealous of how tight knit her peoples’ bonds with each other are; as the queen she’s often excluded from that since everyone else puts her on a pedestal (as noted previously, they refer to her by title rather than name). More specifically she’s jealous of Hunter’s ongoing thing with Siren, as she’s been yearning for his attention for years and never received it (not in the way she wants, anyway). Again, she handles this by bottling it up, as the queen cannot be distracted by such trivial emotions. Good thing glass bottles are famously sturdy, this practice will surely continue to be a sound one.

If Maya is jealous of anything, it’s her peers’ ability to be content with tedium. With a perfect memory, she’s painfully aware of how much repetition the average day has, but her fellows don’t seem to notice, or if they do, don’t seem to care. Hell, some of them appear to find comfort in the routine, the normalcy. She attempts to shake this feeling off, but like everything else in her flawless recall, she can never entirely put it away.

25. My favorite aspects of both are going to be the angsty parts because apparently I’m a sadist.

For Frieda it’s the dehumanization. The Titans made her to be a living weapon. The gods branded her as an abomination for existing. And her own people turned her into a martyr, a Messiah figure that could prop up their fragile hopes. At no point does Frieda get to be Frieda; She’s Zero, or Priority Target One, or The Queen. Max will be the first person to treat her as human in a long time, and that’s going to be a profound moment for her that I really look forward to.

For Maya it’s going to be exploring all the detriments to a flawless memory and how the human psyche wasn’t meant to handle having that sort of ability. Imagine every mistake you’ve ever made, every abuse you’ve suffered, every pain you’ve felt, as crystal clear in your mind as the moment it happened. How do you heal? How do you move on? I do so love a good “your great power is really a curse” trope.

Frieda certainly wouldn’t think she could get away with it. Tenet Two of the demititans’ code is to do no willful harm against a fellow demititan, and to her mind she isn’t above the code. Her people on the other hand would feel differently. As I said above, they’ve turned her into their Messiah; all their hopes for survival rest in her. While it would be a deeply unsettling event for many, they’d find some way to justify it if only to keep her at the forefront, to keep her trying to save them.

4. Frieda’s innate instinct when scared is to freeze, followed by flee. Years of training have embedded a fight response in her, but part of her still feels the urge to run and hide when shit gets scary.

9. “Most gods throw dice, but Fate plays chess, and you don't find out til too late that he's been playing with two queens all along.” -Terry Pratchett

19. Rage makes Frieda’s calm and collected queenly mask fall away entirely. It’s the one emotion she’s never had much practice at containing, so when it comes out, it really comes out. Violence is basically a guarantee at that point.

Edgy/misc OC ask meme ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Send me a number and an OC, and I'll answer.

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

Is your OC more cold and detached or up close and personal?

How does your OC behave when enraged?

Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

[adimouze]

post-las vegas WDC max/daniel, rated M. ~1300 words. @girlsdads mentioned something about a lil bit of LL hating in a fic so. I did a lil bit of LL hating too.

-

A face floats into Max’s field of vision probably three hours into the fifth different party Max had been shepherded to since the race ended. He’s about ninety-percent sure he’s still in Las Vegas. He blinks blearily at it, hoping at least it’s pretty enough to look at. It has been a while since. Since.

Liam Lawson blinks back. Not who he was expecting. Gross. 

“Max,” he says, sounding too sober for whatever time it is. The club is loud but Max can still unfortunately hear him. “Are you okay?”

Max attempts a sweeping gesture, he’s carrying a glass of something and it hits someone’s back, making Max drop it with a smash. Liam cringes, looking like he’s about to complain. “This is my party, mate,” Max says, cutting off whatever Liam was going to say. “I’m fucking great.”

“Christian just left,” Liam says, and Max kind of hates how he talks but what can you do. Maybe he just doesn’t like Liam. “I think there’s another party happening a few blocks from now, do you want to join me?”

If Christian left that means Max can leave without theoretically offending anybody, even though it is his party. Half of the people around him don’t seem like people he knows anyway. “Nah man, you go on ahead, I’ll head back to the hotel –”

“Oh then I’ll head back with you,” Liam’s probably the most cheerful he’s been since Max met him. “Yuki scored and left me here.” 

Pity isn’t something Max feels often, but he does feel a bit of pity now. In his first year he was never left alone in clubs, either Carlos or Daniel were always there making sure they were around to get him back to wherever before they took someone home or to their hotel rooms. More often it was Daniel, and more often Daniel didn’t take anyone home, because they were sharing a room and more often it was just fun to watch onboards together, side by side. 

No one else but them. 

Then again, Max was a teenager in his first year and Liam’s twenty-two. He wouldn’t need babysitting. 

“Alright,” Max isn’t sure where he is. He doesn’t know how to ask Liam without sounding like an absolute idiot. 

“I have a car waiting,” Liam adds, after Max stared off into the distance for a few seconds, willing someone to appear with a car. Maybe Max isn’t being as subtle as he thought he was. 

_____

Red Bull and VCARB drivers are often put up in the same hotel, usually the standard room but Helmut had finangled him a penthouse upgrade on Thursday, telling Max that he deserved a proper room to party in, like Max was going to bring home an orgy. 

He’s pretty sure Liam couldn’t possibly have gotten a penthouse upgrade too. He’s sure hotels only have one penthouse? He’s sure. If he was less drunk he would be surer. But Liam makes no move to push any buttons. 

“Mind if I come up for a nightcap?” Liam asks, smiling. This is the most Max has seen him smile ever since he got Daniel…ever since Daniel left and he jumped in the car. Max does not want him to come up for a nightcap but Max is feeling generous tonight. 

“Sure, why not.” Someone had spilled what seems like a bottle of champagne on him at some point in the night and his shirt is sticking to him. He’s too tired to shower. Meh. It’ll be a problem for hungover Max tomorrow. 

The lift goes up insanely fast but still feels too slow for Max tonight. He’s WDC, four times WDC, he’s used to faster things, sue him. Liam is still staring at him. 

“Good driving tonight,” Max says, for want of anything better to do or say. He has no idea where Liam finished to be honest. 

“I finished 16,” Liam says flatly. Yikes. Well. 

The door dings open onto Max’s floor. And. 

Daniel’s sitting on the giant sectional of the penthouse living room. 

He looks gorgeous. Max wants to stare forever. He looks broad and good and tanned, his beard has filled in a lot more than when Max last saw him in Monaco, his hair thicker. The sweatshirt he’s wearing looks less oversized than usual, fitting his shoulders instead of drooping over them, and his trousers make his thighs look great. 

He’s smirking. He looks like a frat guy. He looks like one of those men from Victoria’s magazines that Max definitely didn’t jerk off over. 

Max is probably drooling, and Liam runs into him as he’s stepping out of the lift. 

“Oh sorry mate I – Daniel, hello.” Liam’s voice is a bit high. Confused. Probably scared. “Didn’t realize you were in Vegas. Red Bull didn’t…”

Daniel stands up and comes over. Max is still staring. Daniel moves like an apex predator and Liam’s just the runt of litter in this.  “Hey Liam. Well. Red Bull doesn’t own me anymore mate, do they? I can be wherever I want.”

He claps Liam on the shoulder in greeting then grabs Max’s limp hand. “Came to see my boy be the World Champion again.”

Liam’s probably saying something but Max doesn’t care, because Daniel’s pulling him in, arms going around Max, sticky shirt and all, and Max is going to swoon because Daniel smells good, good, good, their lips meeting after ages, Daniel’s lips and tongue the best, most refreshing thing Max has tasted all night. Someone’s moaning. 

It’s him. 

“Um…”

Liam’s still there. 

Max tries to pull back but Daniel’s got his hands on his ass, lifting, lifting, and Max’s legs going around him in response, and Daniel’s got them on the sofa in a second, Max perched on Daniel’s wide wide thighs without even separating their lips once. It’s the hottest thing Max has ever felt. He’s going to come just from the thought alone. 

“Liam,” Daniel’s saying, pulling back a few centimeters to give Max some breathing space. “I’m going to fuck my husband on this sofa right now, and he’s going to be screaming loud enough to be heard from the moon. So like,” he pops the k, and Max’s dick twitches, precome dripping into his underwear, “unless you want a front row seat to that for some reason, shouldn’t you be heading to bed?” 

“Husband?” Liam’s stuttering. “Excuse me? You can’t – Does Christian know? He’s going to be so mad at you, Max what the fuck –?”

“Get out,” Daniel says. Max has never heard him sound like that. “Now.” 

“I’m calling Christian,” Liam says as a parting shot. “He won’t – he’s not going to allow this.”

“Yeah you do that, mate,” Daniel rolls his eyes then squeezes Max’s ass harder. God, he’s so hot. Max feels insane. Husband husband husband. “What’s he going to do, fire me again?” 

The lift dings shut again. They’re blessedly alone. 

“Husband?” Max snorts, shivering as Daniel’s fingers undo his pant buttons. “Bit presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”

“The ring’s in the suitcase, baby,” Daniel says, smiling like a wolf, fingers curling around Max’s dick. Max grinds into the feeling, needing Daniel inside him right now. This is the best day of his life. “Was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Let me think about it,” Max laughs, and Daniel bites his nipple through his shirt. “Liam’s probably told the Herald by now.”

“I’ll personally send him the wedding photos,” Daniel cackles, licking up Max’s neck, leaving wet trails in the cold air con of the room, “if he promises to send me photos of Christian when he tells him I was about to fuck him in front of you.”

“Stop talking about Christian and fuck the World Champion already, husband,” Max says, his laughter turning into moans when Daniel all too willingly complies.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Batfam x Neglected mortal combat reader

Lucid dreams ll

Notes: this is part two of lucid dreams.

Warnings: child abuse and ofc killing people.

-------------------------------------------------------

If someone had asked you "do you like it on this earth better than your original one?" You would've said no. You didn't. That even if on this earth you didn't get hit daily or train nearly to death. You still preferred your other earth were you were on born.

Yes it was brutal, but isn't gotham? And yeah maybe bruce doesn't hit you and and make you train until you pass out ,but atleast your father acknowledged you and he probably loved you in some kind of twisted way.

Sadly you'd never get asked the question 'do you like this earth better then your original one?' Because no one knows that your from another earth other than your family, bruce and your adopted siblings....but even they don't care to ask. 'Why would they' you think to yourself they don't care.

It's been two days since you brought jason back ,and Alfred said that if you wouldn't have found him when you did he probably would've died from loss of blood. But you doubt that. Your sure the joker would've kept him alive longer just to hear him scream.

Yesterday jason woke up. And surprisingly he remembered that you had been the one to save him. He wanted to talk to you ,but you couldn't look at him. Not with how you felt.

It seemed like bruce hadn't wanted jason to see you either. Because when jason mentioned you bruce quickly tried to change the subject. You knew bruce well enough to know that he's never quite liked you. You knew that he only put up with you for your mother. And you killing the joker was probably his final straw.

'It's always you isn't it?' Is what damian always tells you and maybe the ten year old is right. It is always you. You always disappoint people. Atleast lately you have. You've tried so hard to be perfect. To keep up. But you can't.....

You remember the fight with your mother the day that you brought jason home. You remember the look in her eyes. The fear.

You were sent to your room and banned from going out on patrol. It's not like it mattered anyway. Because gotham didn't even know you were a hero. Bruce had always kept you in the shadows. Never to be seen. You were the last option.

Bruce knew you were stronger than Robin and himself with your fire abilities that you inherited from your father.

But he still didn't want you to be seen. So you stayed away from the spotlight and were only seen when especially needed. It didn't bother you when Robin got the fame and you got nothing. You were happy to just be included. But now you see even in patrolling Gotham you weren't included. You were hidden......

That being said you should be in bed. In your room with your eyes closed ,asleep. But your not. You sit on a building that you know batman and robin won't patrol. You know that no one will find you where you are. You're no where near cameras for tim to track. And you don't have on your suite......Oddly your in you pjs... just sitting on a random roof. You probably look crazy being on a roof at 2am but it is gotham. And weirder things are seen at 2am.

There's only one person that could find you.

And sadly he's right behind you. You sigh feeling upset that you aren't alone anymore. And if you hadn't been trained so well by him you wouldn't have heard his steps. But he knows you know he's there. And yet the air is still silent.

" Why are here grandfather? " You had said still looking at the stars. Your grandfather Lin Kuei the great and feared warrior remains silent for a moment before he begins speaking.

"Do you regret it?" He says and you're no fool. You know exactly what he means but still your mind doesn't want to answer. "Do you regret killing the joker?" He says a bit more firmly than when he had asked the previous time. He leaves no room for questions to prolong time. His question is direct and firm. But your jaw clenches and your eyes can't look away from the beauty of the stars.

Your chest feels heavy. "I came here to get away from my actions and yet you bring them to me." You say to your grandfather. Your words are Sharp and if it had been any other week you wouldn't have ever spoke to your grandfather in that way. But this week has been.....intense.

"Your a Kuei. We do not run away from are actions we face them. Even if we do not like the outcome. And most importantly we are not cowards." He says and you don't have to look at him to know that he's getting impatient. He wants the answer.

"I'm not a Kuei grandfather or a Wayne. I'm a Hasashi," You say and the words almost burn your tongue. Because surprisingly it does hurt knowing your a monster....

Your grandfather eyes narrow as if he's looking at a completely different person. But you don't see that so you continue speaking. "Isn't that right?" You say. Your grandfather knows you don't mean the words you say in a disrespectful way. Your just taking a stand. And surprisingly he likes that.

"A Hasashi?....No, your no Hasashi." Your grandfather says. And the air goes silent again but you can feel how tense it really is. "That's what my mother thinks." You say and you mean it, you truly do. And your grandfather sees that. And wishes you would look him in the eyes but he has feeling he wouldn't like what he would see if you did. No, he knows he wouldn't like what he would see. .

Your grandfather has seen you as you've grown and he's watched with pride and love as you've made your way into an amazing fighter and young women. And he knows that you can be better than scorpion or sub zero. You could be the best. But he doesn't want that.

No, right now he wants to see tears in your eyes.

He wants to know that you didn't listen to your father when he told you that warriors don't cry. Because your grandfather knows that he taught that to your father.. He wants to know that you aren't as broken as he is.....

And your gaze doesn't seem to turn away from the stars for even a second. And you don't realize what your doing to your grandfather who stands behind.... Your breaking his heart.

His cold and probably dark heart is breaking. Such weakness hasn't been seen in him in years and yet he stands behind you with a heavy chest and glossy eyes.. "Do you regret killing the joker," he asked once more.

And his voice sounds different and it catches your attention immediately. So you stand and turning around you see him. You see his eyes and how there slightly different. You see how his breathing is heavy. And you see all these things because He taught you how to.

You feel your jaw go loose. And for a moment your in complete shock. And in this moment you feel the same way you did when you saw the fear in your mother's eyes. Because now you've also disappointed him.

"I dont." You say and it's like your chest isn't as heavy as it was moments before. You've finally said it. And doesn't burn like you expected it to. It feels...nice. "am I monster?" And when you say those three words you sound exactly like a child. A child that just desperately wants to be seen differently.

And his chest tightens more. And for once in your grandfather's life he's scared. He's scared to speak. He doesn't want to hurt you more than you've already been hurt. So he stays silent. And watches as you search his eyes trying to guess his answer. Just like He taught you.

"You're no monster my child. Only human."

-------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @dhanyasri , @kore-of-the-underworld , @i-adorehannah

[ram-bles]

Hello! Is it okay if you can write mouthwashing headcannons of how the crew members would react to the reader randomly attacking them with kisses? If you want to stick with one person, then I was thinking, Anya? (If you want someone else, then that's okay too!)

Have a great day/afternoon/night

tulpar crew x gn!reader

smooch attack headcanons.

⚠️ pushy jimmy. everything else is chill. not proof read.

[note: sorry I've been out for long everyone! I had some stuff come up but I'm doing some progress on the things you guys send! I hope you enjoy these imagines]

[ Anya ]

🟦 giggling mess if done right

🟦 if you do it, please don't jump her.

🟦 sth like swooping in first before kissing her. small signals that it's you.

Her eyes were glued onto the shelf, searching for that one book she needed. It was usually there. Did I misplace it?

Her thoughts were immediately silenced by a hand taking hers, swift yet carefully. Her body tensed up by instinct but when she realized it was you, it had her giggling as you planted soft kisses on her knuckles. You raise the book that you hid from your back while you entered.

"Sorry! I was reading it earlier."

"I don't mind at all, don't worry."

Anya shakes her head with a smile and cups your cheek and you beam. That was one of the small signals she gave that says she's fine with this. She brushes your cheek for a moment as you lean in to her touch, then you feel her carefully tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. You immediately wrap your arms around her waist and lean in for a kiss- kisses. Lots of them. You start off on her cheek, then her nose, her eyelids, her forehead, then a peck to her lips and she was softly laughing the whole time, both from the affection and how ticklish it was.

[ Curly ]

🩹 Not a fan of PDA either. you gotta do it when you both get privacy.

🩹 So you do it with every chance you get.

You spot Jimmy lingering back at the lounge without your beloved Captain? You're beelining towards the cockpit.

Alone in the kitchen? You're on him.

Hallways? Oh, Captai—in!

Even if he scolds and chastises you for it, he loves it. He does the same anyways. One time though, you were both in the lounge reading together when you eventually got bored. You peek at your partner who was heavily invested at the article when suddenly the item gets pushed away and replaced by you on his lap. Before he could even warn you, you grabbed his face and showered him with kisses. Curly gives in and hugs you, it should be alright since no one's here, right? He'll let it slide for now.

When you part, he had a stupid grin on his face.

"Darling, have I ever taught you how to aim?"

With a chuckle, you shake your head and you both lean in for a kiss.

"How does a lesson tonight in your quarters sound, Captain?"

"Perhaps we could reschedule for an earlier time. How does right now sound?"

"Perfect."

[ Daisuke ]

🌺 Usually, it's him who does the guerilla attacks. It's a little game you guys play. The more of a surprise kiss streak you have, the better.

🌺 So far he's on the lead, but not for long.

You had to borrow Anya's lipstick for this. Carefully planned this siege (it only took like 10 minutes). Daisuke had just finished doing inventory, Swansea's back in utility and you're by the storage closet by the hallway and you hear familiar footsteps. In approximately 5.0224 seconds, your target is going to pass by the said storage room aka your location right now. You brace for it, nervous. You push your doubts that it was another person for now and just go for it.

Slamming your partner onto the wall as he squeals, you shut the door and yank on the string to turn the light on. It was dim but you could see the look on his face and you burst out laughing.

"Dude, I thought we had some psycho hiding up in here! I thought I was gonna die!"

"Yeah, you will."

"Fuck you mean by tha— mpFfF?!"

Your lips smash against his and you could tell some of the lipstick smeared. His awkward tense pose loosens up and his hands move away from the walls to your hips as he returns it and you part as he tries not to chase after you.

"Got ya' good, huh?"

"Whaaaaat?" He drawls out with a voice crack, looking away. "I don't know man, you gotta do that again so we can find out." With a pffsh, you start kissing him everywhere, his beauty marks, his lips, cheeks, jaw, neck, probably even on his collar.

Next thing you know, you both pop out the storage room, Swansea looking like he almost had a heart attack while he stares at the both of you in judgement.

Daisuke had a lovestruck expression while his face, neck, and shirt collars were filled with lipstick marks and yours were smudged on your lips.

[ Jimmy ]

🔪 he hates it. he likes it so much he hates it.

🔪 prefers doing it himself though.

Shitty day as always. He wasn't in the mood and he can't bother you which made his day a whole lot worse. It's stupid, why was he so dependent over your attention. It should be the other way around.

Once you were done with your shift, you decided to find the co-pilot. At his usual thinking spot, chewing on a toothpick.

God, he needs his nicotine.

You were silent, only walking towards his way, too busy with his thoughts to even notice you. Not until you plant a kiss on his cheek and his head whips to your direction, almost bumping heads. You smile and peck his lips this time.

"You okay?"

Were you pitying him?

"Fuckin' peachy."

Suddenly, you were pressed up against the wall, caged in-between his arms and you look up at him confused. He flicks the toothpick somewhere and he starts peppering your face with kisses. It was all soft at first, not until he nips at your lip before kissing you roughly. Your lips would probably bruise later on.

[ Swansea ]

Wake rock was softly playing in the background.

🦢 this can be interpreted as romantic/familial honestly

🦢 he seems annoyed by it but in reality he thinks it's sweet. never admitting it though.

You were busy cleaning up in the utility room while Swansea was repairing some wires when he suddenly flinches and cusses loudly, shaking his hand. He got grounded. Now he's grumbling over where Daisuke was when he needed him to do the work. Probably needed to release his frustrations elsewhere by light-heartedly shit talking his intern. You knew he didn't mean it.

Tilting your head curiously, you moved closer, peeking over his shoulder to watch him work for a moment. And just when he moves his hands away from the box, you hug him from the side and kiss his cheek repeatedly.

"Jesus! Warn a man will ya'?!"

"I'm done cleaning! I'll go on break now, boss!"

"Yeah, yeah." He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he had a small smile on his face as he continued working. Seriously, who does this to their mentor?

Kids these days.

[lovecla]

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, nico hischier x you:

FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, game plan:

➴ chapter warnings: none <3

➴ word count: 1.5k

💌 from me to you: and here’s the first chapter of fake it ‘till you make it! posting this sooner than expected in honor of last night’s game. can you guys believe we have nico hischier as our captain? how lucky are we? anyways! i hope you all like this! (the posting schedule will be just like TYPA, every other day!) ♡

𖧷

WHEN YOU tell people that being friends with a hot, young NHL player isn’t at all that great, all they do is look at you like you’re batshit crazy, and give you one hundred and fifty four arguments trying to make you, someone who’s been friends with a guy who’s been a NHL star player for the past few years, see how wrong you are.

You love Nico Hischier. You really do. You met him when you were just eighteen, being friends with his sister, Nina, and immediately locking in with Nico. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving man you have ever met in your life, and now that you’re twenty-three, almost twenty-four, you can see how rare men like Nico are.

But now that he’s a famous player, captain of an entire team and known for being one of the hottest men in the NHL, you sure feel like you’re paying a high price for being in his life.

Not in a bad way, though. It just sucks to see the amount of women throwing themselves at his feet, and what sucks even more, is knowing that he won’t even blink an eye at them because he’s head over heels for Nora Ellis, a crazy girl he met two years ago at a party.

Nora is beautiful, you’ll give him that. And usually, you wouldn’t be upset with him having a crush. In fact, you and Nina are always encouraging him to engage in new relationships and meet new people, so that he isn’t only worried about his job.

Nora. She’s the most beautiful black woman you have ever seen. She’s intelligent, she’s funny and she knows things about Hockey like no one else— being the daughter of one of the most talented coaches in the NHL does that to you, you guess.

The only problem with Nora Ellis is the fact that she only cares for men who are in a relationship.

Married or dating, she doesn’t care. Her only goal is to make them give up on their partner to be with her, and once she gets tired of them, she finds another mission to busy herself with.

Nico doesn’t seem to notice that. To be fair, no one really does. She can be very subtle and discreet, and the only reason why you caught up on that in the first place is because every party you go to, you try to blend yourself with the walls, so you don’t get too much attention on yourself.

Nico always tells you to stay by his side and mingle with his friends, but by the end of the night, you’re always sitting near the bathroom door, with a drink in your hands, watching the party unfold with attentive eyes.

And turns out that a lot can happen in the bathroom of a party full of NHL players and Nora Ellis.

So you know she’s not good for him. You’ve tried to talk him out of it more times than you can actually recall, but it’s a dead end. Nico’s in love with her, and has been for two years now. He won’t give up on her unless something really drastic happens, but since Nora is really good at what she does— destroying relationships for fun—, nothing will ever rise to the surface.

“She’s so… pretty,” Nico sighs, sitting on the couch beside you, making you sigh and put your book down, not forgetting to mark the page you were in. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

You smile, touching his cheek, watching with awe as his dimples appear. “It’s fine, Dimples.”

He rolls his eyes as he always does when you call him that, and continues.

“You’re the only one who still listens to me ramble about Nora,” he pouts. “Nina said that if I talk about her one more time, she’ll fly to Newark and personally destroy my phone so I can’t call her anymore.”

You laugh loudly, perfectly picturing Nina saying that.

“And Luca?” you ask, raising your eyebrow.

“Luca just says I need to move on.”

“Well, he’s always been more patient than Nina, that’s for sure,” you nod, placing your book on Nico’s coffee table and bringing your knees close to your chest, resting your head on them. “But… he’s not wrong, y’know?”

Nico gives you the puppy eyes, as he always does whenever someone mentions that he should get over Nora, and you sigh again.

Seeing him like this sucked in every way. And you’ve tried everything— get him on dating apps, blind dates, normal dates, pointing at a pretty girl at a party, literally everything.

And still, he’s not budging.

“I wish she would just look at me. I’m handsome, right?” He looks at you, brown eyes filled with despair.

You spend some seconds analyzing him, as you often liked to do. His brown, hazelnut eyes that shined bright everyday, his hair that’s now a little bit longer than usual, his legs and arms which are absolutely huge— when did he get that big anyway?— and his perfect, charming smile and dimples.

“Emma?”

“O-oh, yeah, you’re… fine, I guess,” you shrug, trying to hide the fact that you were checking him out. Weird. “It’s not about you, Nico, I’ve said that before.”

“Okay, but why won’t she pay attention to me, then?”

Because you don’t have a girlfriend, is what you want to say.

Wait.

“Oh my God!” you jump in your seat, scaring Nico who lets out a loud scream and jumps out of the couch with you.

“What the— Emma.” He puts his hands on his hips, trying to look scary, but you brush him off.

“I know how to make her fall in love with you,” you smile, walking around in circles, trying to organize your thoughts inside your head. Nico. Nora. She thinks she’s in love. Nico’s happy. They get together. She’ll leave him after three months or so. Nico’s sad. But! Nico’s moved on. “God, how did I not think of that before?”

“What are you talking about—”

“We have to date.”

Nico stares at you like you’re crazy, his eyes big and confused. He opens his mouth a few times, probably trying to think of something to say, before closing it and inhaling the air.

You wait for him to say something, but when it’s obvious that he won’t, you continue:

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know what you must be thinking, but hear me out,” you step closer, looking up at him. “Girls sometimes don’t pay attention to guys because… well, because they can’t really see them. Like, for example: there’s this one guy in my office which I don’t care about, he’s just my coworker and nothing else.”

“What does this have to do with—” you put your index finger over his lips, shushing him.

“Wait,” you say. “So, he’s there and he isn’t anything. Until, one night, I had a dream that he’s dating me. And suddenly, I wake up and go to work, and I can’t see him the same way I did before. I start noticing how nice his hair is or how tall he is. Do you understand it now?”

Nico smiles, scratching his forehead with his finger.

“No, Emma. That doesn’t even make sense.”

You snort. “Because you’re a man. But trust me on this one, Nico. The second Nora sees you with someone else, she will notice you.”

Mostly because she’s a whore, but we’ll keep that to ourselves for a while.

“Do you have… like… a crush on me or something?” His face is now red and he gets closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder while he looks like he’s trying to comfort you. “Is that why you want to do this?”

“What— No, what the hell!” you can feel your face getting warm and you step away from him. “No, I don’t have a c-crush on you. I just can’t stand you talking about her anymore. I’m your friend, so I will help you.”

Nico sighs, relieved it seems, still looking unsure.

“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to,” you say, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “I know it sounds crazy and I know you probably think I’m trying to get something here but in reality—”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your surprise, almost shouting with how loud you spoke.

He smiles, sitting back on the couch, spreading his thighs and stretching his arms. “I mean, you’re never wrong about these love related things. You did get my sister an amazing boyfriend and you did manage to convince my brother to ask that girl out, and now they’re married. So it’s probably my turn to accept your love advice and shit, right?”

You’re starting to feel bad about this whole thing, because you know Nora will probably break his heart in thousands of little pieces, but what else can you do?

It’s the perfect plan, you think to yourself. It’s flawless, and it will work.

“I try my best,” you give him a half-smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “But you have to promise me something.”

Nico nods. “Anything.”

“If this doesn’t work out, then you'll move on.”

“Emma—”

“It’s not healthy for you to be thristing over someone for this much time,” you sit on the couch next to him and place your hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “We will fight, and we will fight hard, but if there’s no results in three months, and I’m being generous, we’ll move on. Okay?”

Nico stared at his hands, biting his lips before looking at you again.

“Okay.”

𖧷

<next chapter>

[srslylini]

the way Arcane wasted character in season 2 is actually insane. They gave us good character design but no good character. Especially the new ones. Is there honestly ONE, one you genuinely cried over?

I cried over Mylo and Claggor. I cried over Vander in season 1. I cried over Powder screaming and sobbing after Vi in act 1 of season 1. I felt deep emotional pain over all of this because they gave me character and an understanding of the world we are in. And they did all of that in 3, THREE, episodes.

What did they do with Isha? Well I sure didn't cry when she died. Her character, while interesting just wasn't fleshed out at all. What I felt when they killed her was how idiotic the writers were for that because okay? like huh. They had 5 episodes with Isha and somehow managed to not make me care enough to cry. Not because Isha's potential wasn't there but because killing her was stupid and pointless, just to further another characters pain which could happen way more naturally without introducing a character to die.

What did they do with Loris? They tried to make him Vander (which okay weird why do that? especially if you want to bring Vander back anyway like uhm? what was the sense of introducing Loris as a Vander stand in and then bringing Vander back??). But he WASN'T Vander because they never showed him to be. They just told me he was. Which doesn't work. okay, he died. Did not care. The only thing I felt was rage again because it was so unnecessary and dumb, they could have made a lot with this character.

Maddie. Well Maddie is a whole other thing, isn't she? She was introduced in a way that already raised a lot of eyebrows. But in a "she is a cop" way and not she is on Ambessas side way. There is so much questions coming up with that. Had she been on Ambessa's side from the very start? Even when we first saw her on screen? Did she come with Ambessa? But how was she an enforcer then? Did she always live in Piltover but how did she then turn towards Ambessa? When she made that fist sign, was the plot between Ambessa and her already going, or did it happen after that? Why were we not shown any of this? this is NECESSARY to understand her character and why the end happened. We should have been able to feel betrayed as well but like? I did not feel betrayed I was just like "okay well, that happened off screen I guess."

Steb had not one talking line, like why was he here, was I meant to feel bad when he ran into The Grey, I can't even tell, help.

And then the side characters of Zaun, especially the Jinxers. The one woman who then died with Vi's hand in hers while wearing the uniforms of Piltover. Did not feel sad. Felt absolute huge amount of unfiltered rage. Her character should have MEANT something. I feel they tried to make her mean something but they failed there too.

Lest?? LIKE LEST COULD HAVE ALSO BEEN USED IN SUCH AN INTERESTING WAY. She just never came back. Okay. Great, at least she didn't die but like? Was I meant to get invested? Was I meant to care? Usually I should be able to tell if I should care about a character in a show or not but in Arcane s2 they tried to make me care and failed or if I cared well then they failed, too

anyways just the side characters especially were a huge disappointment this time around.

[ratatoilett]

katsuki is back in town, and he already regrets coming home for christmas this year.

now he’s standing in front of your house, holding a box of chocolates he thought you’d like. the kind you used to crave after long days together. he doesn’t even know if you still like them, if you even still think about those things he remembers so well. three years have passed, and yet here he is, feeling like a fool for every step that brought him to this moment.

he rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to push down the nerves. why is this so hard? what if he’s changed too much, and you don’t recognize anything familiar in him? or worse—what if you’ve changed, and he’s holding on to someone who doesn’t exist anymore?

he’d thought it ended on a good note. that’s what he told himself all those years ago. so why is he so afraid to see you now? why does it matter so much?

fuck it, he raises his hand, giving a quick knock on the door before he can talk himself out of it. but before he finishes, he hears movement from inside, and the door opens, catching him off guard.

“oh, fuck, you scared—”

it’s you. the words die in your throat, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. even the snowflakes look suspended in mid-air as you stare at each other. he opens his mouth, but only manages, “uh—hey, I, uh… sorry.”

your expression is unreadable. he used to know every glance, every little movement, every sigh. now, you’re a stranger, and it terrifies him. why can’t he read you anymore?

“katsuki, hey—” you finally say, and he hears that voice he’s kept buried in the back of his mind, replayed on endless, restless nights. he feels an urge to reach out, just to touch you, as if that would bring back something of the past.

“i—it’s been so long, katsuki.”

“babe, who’s there?” a voice calls from inside, and he freezes again, the world suddenly colder.

“it’s just—it’s a friend! this’ll just take a minute,” you say, glancing over your shoulder, almost apologetically.

a friend. the word stings, cutting deeper than he expected. he looks down, shaking his head, and forces a small, wry smile. “sorry for interrupting. i just-was gonna give you this anyway, so—”

“no, no, you can—i mean, if you want to— you say, trailing off, eyes uncertain.

he swallows the ache in his throat. he’d known this was a bad idea. but still, some part of him had hoped, against all sense, that you might feel something too, that maybe you were still who he remembered.

“nah. m' fine. just take it.”

you reach out slowly, your fingers brushing his as you take the box from him. “thank you, katsuki.”

“t’s nothin’. should get goin—”

“how—how have you been, katsuki?”

he stops, the question hitting him harder than he thought it would. he feels the world hold its breath again.

“great.”

“why did you come back, katsuki? you never—” you hesitate, your words hanging in the air. “i’m sorry, that was—i shouldn’t have asked.”

he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocks back on his heels, the words he wants to say caught somewhere deep in his chest, tangled and painful. he wants to tell you about every night he lay awake, thinking of this exact moment, of how he’d imagined you waiting for him, of how he’d never truly let you go.

“somethin's always bringin' me back to ya, i guess.”

you blink, your face shifting, as if something in his words struck a place you’d tried to keep buried. your expression softens, and he feels something in you shift, something he hasn’t seen in years. he gestures back towards your door, a small nod.

“go inside. he’s waitin’ for ya.”

but you don’t move. you just stand there, looking at him, your expression a mix of things he can’t quite read. it’s like you’re searching for the boy you knew, and instead, seeing a man who’s weathered years without you. he wonders if you’re feeling what he’s feeling now—a kind of regret that lingers, that quietly seeps into the cracks left by time.

“gotta go,” he murmurs, the words tasting hollow as he says them. “i’ll—see ya around.”

he turns to go, but you speak up, voice catching in your throat. “wait. just—katsuki, look—”

he stops, his back to you, the words sinking into the silence between you. for a moment, he stands there, torn between staying and leaving, between the past and the present.

slowly, he turns, his eyes meeting yours, and in that gaze, everything he’s ever wanted to say seems to spill over.

“i—” katsuki starts, his voice shaking ever so slightly, like he's struggling against a tide of emotions that’s threatening to drown him. he looks at you, the words weighing heavy on his tongue. “i don’t know what i thought would happen.”

there’s a vulnerability there, one you haven’t seen in years, one you didn’t even know he still carried. it hits you harder than you expected. and suddenly, it’s like the air between you two is charged with everything you’ve been holding back—everything that’s been buried deep inside for so long.

you swallow hard, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. not because you don’t want to—because you don’t know how. nothing feels right anymore.

“you didn’t have to come back,” you whisper, but the words sound like they’ve been stripped of meaning, like they were meant to be something else, something you can’t quite reach.

“i know.” he shakes his head, frustration tightening his jaw. “but i did anyway.”

the silence that falls between you both is heavier than any words could be. it’s thick, pressing down on both of you, pulling at all the things you wish you could say, all the things you should’ve said. there’s so much left undone, so much left unsaid, and it’s suffocating.

you look at him, searching his face, trying to see the person you used to know—the one you loved, the one you lost. but instead, all you see is a stranger. a person who’s still a part of you, but someone you can’t reach anymore.

“i—” he stops himself, his hand clenched by his side, like he’s holding back everything he’s feeling. he looks at you one last time, like he’s trying to find something that will make this easier, something that will make it all right again. but it’s too late for that. It’s been too long.

“take care of yourself, yeah?” he mutters, his voice almost a ghost of what it used to be—small, broken, like the words are falling apart before they reach you.

you can feel the emptiness of it. “yeah. you too.”

it’s all that’s left to say. there’s nothing more. you both know it, but neither of you wants to let it go, even though it’s already slipping through your fingers.

katsuki turns away, his steps slow, deliberate, like he’s dragging the weight of every unspoken word behind him. the snow falls harder now, swallowing his footprints, erasing him as if he were never here at all.

but the ache stays. it’s in the pit of your stomach, twisting with every breath. the world moves on, but this—this moment—will never leave you.

you stand there for a long time, watching him fade into the distance, knowing that this is the last time. the last time you’ll see him like this. the last time you’ll ever have a chance to say all the things you wish you could.

and just as he disappears into the snowfall, your chest tightens, your breath catching in your throat. you want to scream, you want to run after him, but you know it’s pointless. the distance between you is too great now. it always has been.

but before he’s completely gone, you see him look back one last time. just a flicker. just a moment. and you wonder, for the briefest of seconds, if maybe—just maybe—he feels it too.

then he’s gone.

and all that’s left is the quiet. the snow. the space between you both, filling up with everything that will never be.

[book-lore]

No shade to the OP on this one because I do know some people who will do this and what I am going to bring up here might be specific to me, but I would still encourage people to be enthusiastic about their horror interests anyway.

I work in a library and thus I have access to EVERY. SINGLE. WEIRD AND MORBID BOOK you've heard of and so very many that you haven't. My reading list is a joke among my colleagues because while some of them are reading the newest Sally Rooney or Jennifer Colgan, I am regaling them (gently, but I'll get to that in a minute) of my favorite books that have featured some truly awful things. And yes, I've told patrons about this too, some to confusion and others who find it very useful. I get that this context is different from someone who might meet at a random social gathering, but if someone is going to meet you with suspicion about what you are reading, and they aren't going to hear you out about what makes it great, they probably won't be a lot of fun to talk to in the long run anyway. My coworkers think it's funny that I read such heavy, depressing topics because I am really friendly and upbeat at work. They also like that if they are looking for something a bit spooky but not going to plunge them into a story that they can't finish, they know I have them covered because of that whole gently telling them thing. I take into account their comfort level and when they ask me about my favorite topics, they know they can trust me not to send them into the deep end.

And maybe some random person has read all this and thought "that's fine in a library but that doesn't work in meeting people in other spaces", actually it does. One of my closest and longest enduring friendships began with someone who insisted they did not like horror stories or movies. They were not interested in the scary stuff, according to them. Over time, they realized that I wasn't going to make their life miserable by making them watch stuff beyond their comfort level and they developed their own taste in the genre, a lot of it from the media they already liked. They just thought those things didn't count. This wasn't always the case for people who I talked to, but the ones that mattered, especially with one of my best friends, it turned out that they weren't so quick to judge.

So talk about your obsessions. Talk about the things that excite you and make you happy. Maybe it won't be for everyone but it's not supposed to be and some people around you are still going to find it fun to listen.

being someone who's passionate about their interests when you're a horror fan really is a special layer of hell because every interaction you have with another person where the conversation turns to your hobbies and personal entertainments is a trial where if you show too much unrepentant glee at getting an opportunity to talk about your preferred subject you get to watch them mentally move you onto their list of untrustworthy individuals to avoid in the future in real time

[stillness-in-green]

Some thoughts on The Discourse about the last BNHA cover

(Note: This Discourse was on Twitter. I don’t know how much of this may have been said here on Tumblr, so consider this either my contribution or just me reporting back on drama from other fronts.)

So, I saw a lot of back and forth over there between people who didn’t like the cover and people who did, and I spent a little while mulling it over. It seemed to me that the people who didn’t like it had a good point, but one they were not articulating particularly well, possibly thanks to the character limit and possibly also because the people talking about it tended to phrase their objections in sarcastic, consciously exaggerated terms because that’s the language months and months of dealing with the truly insufferable Horikoshi Defense Squad on Twitter primed them to use.

So what is the point?  Basically this: In going for the lazy/easy callback in both the cover design and Dai (plate-hair kid)'s role in the final chapter more generally, Horikoshi landed on an "everything comes full circle" ending when what the story desperately needed was an indicator of change.

We didn't need to know that a kid with low self-confidence and nothing to speak of in the quirk department can still become a Pro Hero if he[1] wants to.  We already knew that because it's what the whole story of BNHA was about!  Deku passing the torch/paying it forward is nice if all you care about is Deku's personal arc, but it's sheer reductiveness if you care about literally anything else.  If there was going to be a kid getting Deku's encouragement and help at the end, if that's the ending Hori was absolutely set on, it shouldn't have been the Deku Redux kid; it shouldn't have been the weak kid who has already been metaphorically proven capable of becoming a Hero.

1: And of course it would be a boy.

It should have been the troubled kid, the one from the bad family situation, the one who isn't sure whether he even believes in this Hero thing.  It should have been the kid who, if nothing about Hero Society had changed, would’ve been rejected by the whole corrupt system—in so many words, the Tenko Redux kid.  That's the one who we saw could not become a Hero under the previous system.  That's who we needed to demonstrate the system's improvement.

Instead, all we get is Deku helping himself.  And it fits, I guess, because “himself” is the only sort of person Deku ever wanted to save anyway—remember that in the very first chapter, Deku tells All Might that he wants to be a Hero because he was never “saved” as a kid and so he thinks saving is the coolest thing ever.  Implicitly, then, Deku wanted to be the kind of Hero who could have saved the kid he was, and that tendency to reserve his compassion for people he can recognize himself in—the crying children and the Hero wannabes—is consistent throughout the series.  Dai, then, simply becomes the very last of these examples, the chance for Deku to tell his middle school self that he, too, can be a great Hero.

And that’s quite a choice, isn’t it?  Take a second to consider the implications there. The metaphorical parallel Deku helps is his middle school self, not his childhood self—there’s no evidence that Dai was bullied on the same level young Izuku was, and we sure didn’t see anyone telling him to jump off a roof.  So, who does save those children, then, in this grand, improved version of Hero Society?  Does anyone?

Well, not really. Not that we’re shown. Indeed, the child who was the closest analogue to young Izuku—a weak and seemingly quirkless boy who stuck his neck out for other rejected children, who still stubbornly wanted to be a Hero despite a parent's disapproval—was Tenko, and Deku pointedly did not save him.

To be clear, I don’t mean that just in the sense that Deku failed to save the adult Tenko became, but even in the emotional sense that the series clearly wants me to believe Deku succeeded at, the saving of the boy's heart? I don’t think Deku even managed that.  Sure, he might have protected the echo of that child from a few memories, might have held his hands for a few exchanges of dialogue, but then the boy transformed back into the form of the Villain he'd become and was swallowed down the spiritual maw of the man from whom society failed to save Tenko to begin with! And what was Deku doing as this happened? Absolutely nothing but yelling impotently as he got blown backward and out of the mindscape.

Imagine that Deku had found some way to cheer up Izumi Kouta only for Muscular to kill the kid thirty seconds later.  No one would be saying, “I think Deku still saved him—his heart, anyway,” if Deku got Kouta to smile and admit that Heroes were actually pretty cool only to do nothing but scream helplessly as he watched Muscular pulverize Kouta’s ribcage with one gentle squeeze.[2]

2: Mind you, this comparison is flawed!  Unlike AFO’s vestige, Muscular doesn’t turn up to kill a child as a direct result of Deku’s own actions. Also unlike the events of the final battle, Deku doesn't jump up and personally administer the killing blow to the still-screaming victim, either.

It just leaves me thinking about some of the stuff @codenamesazanka has said about how the narrative treats Shigaraki and Deku helping him: not as something Deku has a duty to do, not something Hero Society on the whole owes Shigaraki (and all the other metaphorical expy/future Shigarakis), but rather a bonus, a nice extra, a demonstration to shine up Deku's Hero cred because he's making efforts no one else would bother with and that no one would reasonably expect him to make. It's not Deku’s job to save the Tenkos or the young Izukus of the world; apparently that just falls to society at large.

So then, what was the point of making Tenko/Tomura such an extreme case of someone who started in a similar place to Deku?  Why make him, also, a weak kid who was told he couldn't be a Hero, if you're not going to have Deku save him in the way no one saved Deku himself?

From where I'm sitting, the answer is, "It seemed like a good idea to Horikoshi at the time, but proved to be poorly thought out."  But if Deku failing to save his own closest childhood analogue was where the story was going the whole time, then Shigaraki should never have been used to parallel Deku to begin with.  It's just a damned waste of Shigaraki as a character, an insult to everything he represented, to use him for ~the parallels~ throughout the entirety of the story except the very beginning and the very end.

Anyway, Pro Heroes are bullshit and the ending should have been them being radically reconceived from the ground up with input from all the people they failed to save.  But again, if you have to still have Heroes-qua-Heroes at the end, and you have to have some stupid thematic echo because you as an author think callbacks are the single most compelling storytelling tool of all time, then everything we got on Dai should have been for Scissors-kun instead, and here I am very much including Dai's scene before the first war. An unsettling scene of a strange child with his mouth sewn shut, stuck in a straitjacket in a dark room should have been the last thing we saw before launching into the day of the raids, an apparent element for the future in the same way that so many future Villains were first shown in the wake of Stain's arrest.

See, Shigaraki’s own destructiveness is what ultimately frees Scissors-kun from the basement, “saving” this rejected, abused child in a way no Hero ever managed or even knew to try, just as Shigaraki brought light and a strange sort of hope to the lives of so many others whom Heroes failed.  However, Shigaraki couldn't carry his ambitions through to the end. He was never able to meet the kid he indirectly saved, never able to offer that appallingly abused victim an avenue for his signature brand of rough justice. Heroes stopped him from doing so. So then, who will help Scissors-kun?

If we’re to believe that the story's protagonist has made a real difference, that Deku and his classmates have changed the world for the better, then we don't need to see them helping a kid who we already know is going to turn out fine because “he” aleady did. We need to see them help the people that previously only Villains would have helped, picking up the torch they struck from Shigaraki’s hands.

So sure, keep the scene with Granny Evil and Scissors-kun if you must, to show that it’s not only Heroes but also the broader Hero Society that’s changed. After that, though, show Deku stepping in.  Show him taking an interest in this kid as a way to keep his promises—to Shigaraki, that the rejection and obliviousness that he sought to destroy have indeed been destroyed and will remain so, and to Spinner, that Deku will remember Shigaraki for the rest of his life. 

When Deku is older and in a position to give advice to a kid who’s floundering and uncertain of what to do with his life because of what people around him say about him, make that character echo the characters the old system failed to save, not the character who the entire story proved would do just fine.

For god's sake, ditch Deku Redux.

Now, I know the obvious rejoinder here: We can’t use Deku’s story to say that BNHA already showed us that Dai would be fine because Dai has a quirk where Deku did not, therefore Deku’s path would not be open to Dai.  To this, I would reply that neither Deku nor Dai specify that Dai wants/is able to be a top Hero, merely that he be the kind of Hero people can admire—which the story has also already proven true!

Ojiro got into UA with nothing but one (1) extra limb.

Manual has a perfectly middling quirk that turned out to be absolutely crucial in two different wars because it was the right quirk at the right time.

Wash’s quirk makes strong bubbles. 

Like, this list is not short.  Manifest Plates might or might not make Dai Hero Billboard material, but one of the major points of the endgame was the sublime and noble value of helping when you can, in the way that you can.  So to reiterate, we didn’t need that to be proven again in the epilogue.

If anything, going the route of retreading the same story makes the epilogue much worse! Not only do we not get to see how this society is helping the people the old society most profoundly failed—victims who fall through the cracks and become Villains—but in seeing yet another a weak kid being mocked for his heroic aspirations, we find that we’ve barely moved a step beyond the exact same place we started.

That’s the message Horikoshi chose to go with, for both the closing chapters of the story and the story’s final volume cover.  Truly, as art that summarizes the story goes, it’s a masterful choice!  And that's the whole problem. The cover of Volume 42 is a perfect illustration of the self-absorbed, cynical, cyclical nature of BNHA's endgame. Little wonder, then, that it's hated by the same people who hated said endgame.

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 2

Part 1

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

---

"Hey, look, if this is some kind of Halloween prank-"

"It's not a prank!" Dustin insists. "Look-"

He fumbles at his chest, and Steve realizes what he's doing just before he pulls his heart out.

"Woah, hey, hey, don't go bringing that out with cat eating lizards around!" Steve tells him.

"It's not a lizard!" Dustin says.

It's dark, and Steve can't see the details of his heart all that well, but he can see the way it beats - racing a little, from the danger, but still steady. No hint of deception.

"See? Not a lizard, not a prank. It's one of those things again, Steve, only a baby one. A demodog."

Great.

"All right, I believe you, now just - put that away before it gets eaten."

Somewhat to Steve's surprise, Dustin obeys, tucking his heart back inside his chest.

"Now you," Dustin says.

"What? No way."

"Come on!" Dustin whines. "I showed you mine."

"Yeah, cause you're the one with something to prove," Steve reminds him. "I'm the one you suckered into this, and there's no way I'm taking my heart out with a demodog lurking around. Just stay up here, okay? I'll go take care of this."

—

Max Mayfield has her heart securely inside her chest even before she believes any of them about the Upside Down.

There's not that many reasons kids that young wouldn't wear their hearts pinned to their shirts, or poking out of one pocket or another, but Steve can think of a few.

He hadn't expected to get saddled with another kid when he let Dustin into his car, but she slides right in like she was one of them the whole time.

And if he makes sure he doesn't ask what she's doing here, if he just starts working on shoring up the bus and treats her like she belongs there right from the start, that's between him and her.

When she asks him if he's really fought one of these things before, for a moment he thinks about pulling his own heart out so she can see for herself.

But there's a monster prowling around outside, and getting caught with his heart out isn't going to help him protect these kids.

Besides, when he makes sure the demodogs target him, when he throws himself in front of the kids - he hopes that's more of an indication of who he is, who he wants to be, than his slightly battered heart could ever show.

—

If Steve's honest, he's not entirely sure how they get back to the Byers’ from the tunnels. He knows he drives, knows Max complains in his ear the whole time about how he drives like a grandma, knows every time he glances over at her there's a sullen, almost fearful expression on her face, like she's afraid he's going to yell at her or keel over and pass out in the middle of the road.

He's not ruling out the second one.

But they make it, and they beat everyone else back. Billy's still unconscious in the living room, and the house is eerily silent for about a minute before Steve catches himself.

“Hands washed, everyone,” he calls out. “Hands and arms and any exposed skin. And make sure you gargle with mouthwash.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Mouthwash?”

Steve points at him. “Mouthwash has alcohol in it, you little shit, it might kill any gross Upside Down bacteria you breathed in. But hey, you want to be tasting that place for a week, be my guest.”

There's a moment of silence, then everyone scurries to fight over one of the sinks.

Steve waits until they're all done before following his own advice, then finally sinks down onto the couch with a groan.

Dustin hands him a bag of mostly still frozen vegetables, probably picked up from the kitchen where they'd dumped everything to put the demodog in the freezer. Steve grimaces at the thought of Mrs. Byers coming home to that, but slaps the bag on his head anyway.

It helps, a little.

There's an argument about what to do with Billy that Steve only half listens to. Max apparently threatened him with Steve's bat after she snuck up and stabbed him with the syringe, which - shit, good for her. Steve's guessing that'll make Billy think twice before he messes with her.

He stays out of the argument, though. He already knows the only answer is going to be let Hopper deal with it.

Admittedly, when Hopper and everyone else does come back, Steve's a little out of it. He's on his feet at the sound of cars approaching, baseball bat in his hand and urgently gesturing for the gremlins to stay the fuck behind him.

If his reflexes were any less dulled by the aching pain at the back of his head, he might have taken a swing when the door opened before he realized who it was.

But fortunately, he just sags with relief, and returns to his spot on the couch with the bat resting against his knee.

It's only when he hears the kids all trying to talk over each other that he realizes someone must have asked them what happened.

Steve pries his eyes open - unsure when he even closed them, shit - to find Mrs. Byers staring at him, clearly concerned. He jolts with the surprise of seeing her so close, and doesn't quite manage to hide his wince of pain, judging by her expression.

“Steve, honey?” she asks.

It sounds like a prompt to answer the question he didn't hear, and he grimaces.

“I'm the babysitter,” is what manages to make its way out of his mouth. “Nothing is getting at those little gremlins without going through me.”

Mrs. Byers looks at him in a way he doesn't really recognize, something between soft and sad and - proud, maybe? Like maybe he did something right, even though it makes her sad.

She holds out her hands, and helps pull him to his feet when he takes them.

“Let's get you patched up,” she says, leading him back to the master bedroom.

He sits on the bed while she gets a first aid kit from the bathroom, watching her through a faint, blurry haze as she takes a closer look at him.

“I didn't win,” he says, feeling a little bit ashamed.

Her eyes go a little bit wet, and she makes a soft tsk noise. “Oh, honey. Winning doesn't matter.”

That throws him so badly that he just stares up at her.

“It doesn't?” he asks, once he's accepted that he's probably not going to get his thoughts in any kind of order.

“That sounds like your father talking,” she says, but her voice is gentle as she starts cleaning up the blood on his face.

“You don't think he's right? That I should be more like him?” The question is out before Steve really realizes - out before he really thinks about it, out before he can admit that he doesn't want to know the answer.

Mrs. Byers pulls back a little, looking at him. “Can I see your heart?”

His hands are at his chest so quick that he fumbles with it, and by the time he pulls it out - it's the same dark red as always, despite the deep, jagged crack running through it, and it pulses unsteadily with his uncertainty.

“No one's asked to see it in a long time,” he says, awkwardly trying to explain away the wobbly beat of his heart in his hands.

She looks sad again, for a moment, then she pulls her own out. It's a slightly paler red, lined with thin silver scars, and it's beating a little fast - adrenaline, he thinks - but it's steady, and it's redder than any adult he's ever seen.

“What happened tonight, Steve?” she asks softly.

“They were in danger,” he replies, because it's the simplest, truest explanation.

“And you protected them.” It's half a statement, half a question, and he tears his gaze away from her heart to find her still looking at him, her eyes dark and warm.

“Yeah,” he says, his heart starting to pump a little more steady against his palms.

Like he said to Nancy - he might have been a shitty boyfriend, but he's a damn good babysitter. Those kids are his.

“Might not be much,” he admits, fully aware she's just coming back from fighting some being from an alternate dimension trying to get her son, and there's a whole girl with super powers out there getting dog piled by her friends. “But it's me between them and anything else, Upside Down or whatever. All of them.”

Just in case she wasn't sure if that included Will or not.

Her eyes drop down to his heart, beating steady and sure - and then she leans in, pressing their foreheads together for a moment before she pulls back.

“You're a good kid,” she says, and her heart beats strong, saying true, true, true. “You're as much like your father as Jonathan is like his, and that's a good thing.”

His heart spasms in his hands, and he curls his fingers in a little like he can hide it, though he doesn't even attempt to put it away.

“I was mean to him,” he admits in a rush. “Last year.”

Mrs. Byers snorts. “You were sixteen,” she informs him. She tucks her heart back into her chest, and gets back to work on patching him up. “He said you apologized, and he's forgiven you.”

Steve doesn't stop her, still doesn't try to put his heart back in his chest. “I didn't finish apologizing, though. It doesn't mean anything if you just say you're sorry, and you don't say what for.”

He knows, because before his dad stopped apologizing at all - he'd always say he was sorry, but he'd never say why. Like he knew his mom or Steve were upset at him, and he knew he had to apologize to get them to not be upset, but he didn't actually give enough of a shit to figure out the why.

Or to stop doing it, but at least Steve managed that one.

“I think your actions were a little more important to him than your words,” Mrs. Byers says, like she can read his mind.

Steve doesn't know what to say to that, so he just lets her finish patching him up.

—

“Kids say Billy Hargrove put his hands on Lucas first,” Hopper says.

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, that's one way of putting it.”

Hopper looks at him, long enough that Steve feels his stomach start to squirm a little. “What's your way of putting it, then?”

“Hargrove's a piece of shit,” Steve says bluntly, too tired and in pain to care. “Come on, Hopper, you know exactly why he targeted Lucas out of all of them.”

Hopper's jaw sets. “I do. And Lucas doesn't want to press charges. So. How do we convince Hargrove to stay the hell away?”

Steve opens his mouth, closes it again, and swallows roughly. “You want me to help figure it out? Why?”

Hopper raises his eyebrows at him. “Seems like you've already been doing a pretty good job at it.”

It's a good thing he'd put his heart back in his chest, because Steve wouldn't want Hopper to see the way it beats a little quicker.

It's strange, having this much adult attention on him. Having people who ask to see his heart, who tell him that he did a good job, who give a shit, even if it's only because Steve's gotten himself involved in all of this mess.

He likes it, he thinks. He likes being seen as someone who can be counted on, someone who can help protect the kids, more than he'd ever liked being seen as popular.

“I could arrest him, easy,” Hopper says. “But something tells me he's used to getting in trouble with the police, and it'll just make him more pissed off.”

“We don't want to get him in trouble,” Steve says slowly, thinking it over. “We want to make sure he knows we're the only reason he's not in trouble.”

Hopper grunts, looking at him expectantly, and Steve realizes it's a silent encouragement to continue.

“If it seems like you're going to arrest both of us, he'll be more willing to work with me on something that'll keep us both out of trouble. He knows I won't want it to get back to my dad or to Coach, but he won't want it to get back to his dad even more. We just have to make sure he knows he has just a little bit more to lose than I do.”

Hopper's looking at him still, in a way that Steve can't figure out.

“It's high school,” he says, feeling the need to - to offer some kind of explanation, some kind of excuse for why he knows how to do this.

“It's politics,” Hopper says, a little wry, a little bitter.

“It's bullshit,” Steve spits out, the word tasting like a chewed up rubber band.

“Damn straight it is,” Hopper agrees. “But it's reality. Sometimes - sometimes you have to play by other people's rules, do things you know are bullshit, make some deals.”

His eyes flicker, back towards the living room, and Steve wonders what deals he's had to make to keep the government off their backs, to keep El hidden and safe.

“I hate it,” Steve says, soft and raw.

He's never admitted that to anyone else, and he has no idea why he says it now, but it makes Hopper's mouth twist a little, something like understanding in his eyes.

“Me too, kid. Me too.”

That's why it's him and Hopper out here, Steve thinks. Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to, sometimes you have to play their bullshit game to get what you want. Something slides a little bit into place - knowing that he isn't alone, that what he wants isn't any of the pointless things he used to do this for.

It's to protect this weird little group that, somehow, have become the most important people in his life.

“You're our babysitter now, right?” Hopper asks after a few minutes. “Make sure he knows that. Knows it's my kid that he's messing with if he comes after them or you again.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a nod. “Yeah, that'll work.”

—

Billy wakes up next to him in the backseat of Hopper's car, hands cuffed behind him. It takes him a minute to clock onto where he is, and a minute longer to realize that Steve's next to him, also in cuffs.

“Who the fuck called the cops?” he hisses at Steve.

Steve shrugs. “How the hell should I know? Neither of us were exactly conscious at the time, thanks to you.”

Billy sneers at him. Steve can see him trying to collect himself through the haze of the sedative wearing off. “Here's how this is going to go. You want to keep it from happening again, you do exactly what I-”

Steve laughs at him. “Dude. They did a drug test already. Where did you even get the stuff you were on?”

Billy goes still. It sets Steve's teeth on edge - it's the same still he'd felt sitting in the junkyard, waiting for Dart. But he knows what he has to do now just as much as he did then, and he lets himself sulk as he leans back against the seat and watches Billy think.

If he says Max drugged him against his will - one, he's admitting to the fact that a thirteen year old girl got the best of him, and two, he has to be smart enough to know that Max would never admit to that, and the kids would all back her up. Billy was the one who showed up looking for a fight, Billy was the one who threw the first punch, Billy was the one who smashed a plate over Steve's head - no way in hell the cops believe him over the kids.

Billy scoffs. “Guess I better spread the word that the Freak is lacing his shit with who the fuck knows what.”

Shit, of course that's where Billy goes. Steve scrambles for a moment, then fixes him with an unimpressed look.

He can salvage this. Munson is pretty much the only supplier around, most of the guys aren't willing to mess with him too much - and if Billy does try to spread it around, it won't be too hard to add onto the rumor that it's just because Billy did something to piss Munson off.

“Maybe you should be nicer to him,” he says with a snort. “Munson always gives me the good stuff.”

Billy just snarls at him. It's clear he's got his story, and he's going to go with it.

Steve shrugs - or as best as he can, with his injuries and his hands cuffed behind his back. “Your funeral, man.”

“The fuck are you talking about,” Billy grumbles.

“You're going to tell the cops that you bought shitty drugs from the Freak, went on a bender, tried to attack some little kids, and beat the shit out of a teammate?” Steve asks.

“Shut your fucking mouth, Harrington, I'm going to-” he pauses, and Steve sees the moment that he clocks what Steve is saying.

It doesn't matter how Billy tries to phrase it to the cops to make himself look better - that isn't the story that's going to get around.

“You breathe one word of that around school, and you're dead,” Billy says.

Steve takes it back. This is nothing like that junkyard - Billy may actually try to kill him, but he has nothing on demogorgons and demodogs. Steve isn't scared of him.

“Yeah, because that won't prove any of it true.” Steve smirks, unconcerned that it makes his lip split open. “You put one hand on me and it just backs it all up.”

“Can't exactly gloat about that from a hospital bed. You'll be the one taking a beating that makes this seem like a walk in the park,” Billy replies, his tone low and menacing.

Steve thinks of the sound of the kids screaming on that bus, the sound of flesh splitting open when the demodog peeled its face apart, the endless fangs dripping saliva as it shrieked at him. He meets Billy's gaze and holds it. “I look like I give a shit, Hargrove?”

Billy looks at him - really looks, and Steve sees a flicker of something in his eyes. It isn't jealousy, it isn't recognition, it isn't fear, it isn't hate, it isn't want - Or maybe it is, maybe it's all of them. Maybe Steve is too tired and far too concussed for this.

Maybe his lack of ability to give a single fucking shit about Billy Hargrove and his threats is what gets him through this.

“So what's the play?” Billy asks, biting the words out as though it physically pains him to say them.

“We were blowing off steam, got a little too carried away. But it's all good now. You and me, we're square.”

Billy considers that, and he looks - comfortable. He looks like this is something he's done before, and briefly Steve wonders how many times Billy's gotten into fights, gone way too far, and had to hash out something like this to keep from getting busted.

“Yeah, all right,” Billy says. “Stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours.”

“And stay the fuck away from the little shits I babysit,” Steve says. “I hear from any of them that you've been giving them trouble, and the deal's off.”

Billy sneers at him again. “No one told me King Steve spends his free time babysitting.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, bet no one told you that one of them belongs to the chief of police, either.”

Billy's eyes narrow. “You're watching Hopper's kid?”

Steve shrugs, nonchalant in a way that he knows will work better than trying to lie.

“Fine,” Billy says, sounding pissed as hell about it. You've got a deal.”

–

Billy gets released and peels out in his Camaro, loud music already blaring from the window.

Steve, on the other hand, gets a ride home from Hopper himself.

He doesn't hate it.

“Second time in less than two years that I've seen you with a busted up lip.”

Steve's got a hell of a lot more than a busted up lip right now, but he's not gonna say that. “Yeah, well. I deserved the one last year.”

Hopper raises his eyebrows at him.

Steve resists the urge to slouch in his seat. “I was angry, and hurt, so I got mean. I wanted Jonathan to fight me.”

Hopper snorts something that sounds like teenagers.

It's quiet for a moment, then Steve says, “But I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to be mean when I'm angry.”

Hopper's looking at him in a way Steve can't make out, not in just the muted light of the streetlamp. That seems to be a theme for the night - Steve'd thought he was a little off last year when Jonathan socked him in the face, but apparently that has nothing on a concussion like this.

“So… I'm trying,” Steve adds softly.

Hopper shakes his head. “If I'd have figured that out when I was your age, who knows where I'd be?”

He sounds - proud, or something like it. He sounds like Steve's favorite coach, when Steve'd done well.

“Maybe,” Steve says. “But I think we all like you right here.”

Hopper snorts. “Jesus, kid, get out of here. Go put something better on that head than a bag of half frozen peas.”

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 3

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert

[sweetluna20]

Paige Bueckers x makeup influencer (kind of like James Charles) and they do makeup on Paige (maybe do a q&a too) or review Christmas advent calendars in a YouTube video

advent calendar ❤️💚❤️💚

paige x reader

“HEYYY GUYSS!!! it’s me y/n and im here with my beautiful, amazing, talented girlfriend, the one ,the only PAIGEEEE BUECKERS!!”

“okay okay that’s enough” paige responds trying to calm both of you down. but that failed miserably causing you both to burst into laughter.

“anyways! today we’re going to open pr packages i’ve gotten from random companies. Oh! paige and i are going to do a Q&A so if anyone wants to ask some questions go for it!”

“just not too many.” paige adds, already seeing the comments flood in.

“okay the first package we have is from Laneige!” and the first question is for paige!” your voice caused paige’s ears to perk up.

“okay so the question is.. what is your favorite thing about me?”

you quickly look at paige and smiled before opening the package.

“umm.. i’d say my favorite thing about y/n is her personality and energy.” “on the internet she has an extroverted personality and a lot of energy, but i’m actuality she’s super shy and introverted. she has such a calm energy and a soothing voice. so i would say that’s my favorite thing about her.” paige stated with a smile with blush covering her cheeks.

you look down at the box, you have the brightest shade of pink on your face and the biggest smile.

“what’cha got there” paige asks looking over your shoulder.

“oh yes, so i have this really adorable laneige box filled with lip products. they have the cute lip balms and masks which are my favorite!” you try your best not to stutter, trying to ignore the warmth in your heart.

“aw you’re so cute” paige teases you

the comments flood in

“ooooo”

“y/n flustereddd”

“i feel so single rn 😭”

“paige come home the kids miss you”

you see that comment and your eye lit up.

“yea paige go home the kids miss you.” 

“people these days… jeez” you say shaking your head at the camera .

“alright alright open your packages, since i have to go home to my kids” 

by now you’ve opened 5 packages and paige has answered a couple of questions.

you reach for the next box.

your eyes bright up with joy and you have the biggest smile on your face.

“AHHH ITS AN ADVENT CALENDAR!!”

“i love these so much” you exclaimed

wait why?

“uh a comment is asking you why you love them” paige said trying to read it as fast as she could.

“omg yes! i love telling this story!”

“okay so this was back in 2021, paige and i were sophomores. at the time we’ve been going out together for around 3 months. so she took me to this really really nice restaurant in hartford. it was the end of november, like before we went on thanksgiving break. we both came with gifts, i got her a stuffed husky to bring on her trip to remember me.” you start giggling feeling your cheeks becoming more and more flustered.

“and um she got… got me an advent calendar. since we would barely see each other for the month of decmeber, she said that each day i open is a little gift from her.”

“it was my favorite thing in the world. each day i would open it and i would call nika telling her the little surprise i got.”

“ever since then i love getting advent calendars because they remind me of paige.” you smiled looking at the calendar in your lap.

without saying anything paige gave you a big hug and kiss.

“i love you so much” she tells you, with hearts in her eyes.

“i love you too.” 

(not my best work, but it’s a new concept for me so i’m trying my best) thank you for the great request 💜

stylist★: @heart4caitlin, @yannasuniverse, @patscorner, @pbno5, @st4rrzynight, @mrsarnold

[sillyboycam]

“I would bring you rings of gold, I’d even sing you poetry!”

“Oh would ya’?~”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I told you they’ve been on my mind.

Oh yeah, I also watched one of my favourite movies httyd2 and y’know… got a little into it as usual..

I’ve had this idea in my mind for a while, definitely before I watched httyd2 but AFTER watching season 2 of Arcane I decided “Man, this would make a GREAT drawing” .

And here we are!

Anyways this is a sort of “Au” I’ve made, Viktor as Valka, leaving and everyone thinking he’s “dead”.

While I put Jayce as Stoic, because, in retrospect they’re both people of power. Leaders that have a pretty tough life, along with losing their loved one(s). Also, Jayce finally got a beard and you know what Stoic looks like.

Since Valka and Stoic obviously had Hiccup, in my mind I think Jayce and Viktor both adopted a kid to be theirs. (Also to be the next chieftain, since they’re both men of course.) His name is Jekkel, and he’s similar to each of them in terms of appearance. His personality leaning a little towards Viktor’s rather than Jayce’s.

They’d also adopt a little girl named Viyati. (They were especially happy with the name since they picked it themselves) Viyati is the youngest dragon rider of her tribe so far. Her personality is definitely more like Jayce’s as she’s always putting herself and her brother out there. With, of course, boundaries kept in place as Jekkel isn’t usually one to actually want to be out there.

So Viyati always respects him and his needs.

>>>>>>

Viktor’s dragon would be a LightFury,

Jayce’s would be a TimberJack,

Jekkel’s would be a DeathSong,

And (ironically) I think I’d give Viyati a Screaming Death. (ie, smallest little dragon rider gets a big ass scary looking dragon, and it loves her)

>>>>>>

In this Au neither Jayce nor Viktor would die, but, would come super duper close to it many, many times.

>>>>>>

Viktor’s clothes consist of a big white hood rimmed with white tipped red fur, and lots of designs traced onto the hood itself in an off-white.

A black Viking tunic with purple embroidery along the edges and the neckline adorns him, with armour on his chest. Black and scaled.

His arms would be wrapped in white leather from the forearm down, tied in neat bows.

Giant white fur boots with black pants is what he wears on the daily. A spiky belt adorns his sleek waist.

Last thing, he has black scaled arm warmers! In which the white leather wraps around. In a cute bow of course.

>>>>>>

Jayce’s outfit would be a bit more complex, as well as the kids, so if you’d like me to go more in depth I’d be happy too! (Just not in this post, I’m not one to make long descriptions lol)

>>>>>>

Viktor is actually married to Jayce in this one! Their wedding was beautifully done (weeps…) and their rings were gorgeous. This means, the whole family is a Talis!

So that’s; Jayce Talis, Viktor Talis, Jekkel Talis, and Viyati Talis. Also Jayce’s mother, Ximena Talis. She’s a very important figure in the village, a wizard with talents for medicine.

>>>>>>

I have tons of more ideas and I’d love to tell you them all. If you’re interested, let me know!

Anyways this might’ve already been done… but I’m not sure. If it has do let me know! I’d love to chat with that person ;]

Okay,

I hope you enjoy this one!

Love you all

as always art is by me —————> @sillyboycam

[goshen-applecrumbledore]

applecrumbledore's ficlet fundraiser 🇵🇸 🇸🇩 🇱🇧 ✍️ ❤️

I'd like to do what I can to raise money for victims in palestine, sudan, lebanon, and anywhere else that's getting rocked by israel and the US, by writing ficlets for folks who donate to fundraisers. starting with 10 spots available! and we're closed!!!!

in a nutshell: provide proof of a new donation of any amount to a fundraiser and get a ficlet—length proportionate to donation amount—written by me, in any fandom I've written for previously. includes spn, the bear, true detective s1, house md & fma

fine print below the cut! please read before submitting

how it works

donate any amount to any vetted palestinian, sudanese or lebanese fundraiser. el-shab-hussein has a great masterlist of fundraisers in their pinned post here, but also probably your dash has plenty.

take a screencap of proof of donation, incl. amount donated. needs to be legit but I'm not going to bust your balls. I'm going to trust that you WANT to donate to genocide victims

to facilitate easy communication: I prefer you email me with your request (ronisimunovic@gmail.com), but you can also message me here. I prefer no asks, due to the way that they are

I give you a length of fic expectation and a rough timeline. think more in weeks, not months

content guidelines

Only fandoms I have previously written for (full list here), including/especially: spn, the bear, true detective S1, house md

can be any ship within those fandoms

Sex, drugs and violence are fine or even encouraged. Be specific if there's a level of porniness you'd like me to hit

Underage is fine within reason. sorry lol

I'm happy to write addendums/epilogues/add-ons to any of my existing fics

dollars-to-length

these are ROUGH guidelines, it's not a science. I want this to be a pay-what-you-can situation, so if you only have a few bucks, donate a few bucks!

prices are roughly in CAD, which means roughly in USD. don't worry about it.

$2–10 - a few paragraphs; an exchange

$11–20 - a page plus (consider a page ~600w)

$21–50 - a few pages

$50–100 - a self-contained whole lil ficlet

+$100 - we can get bespoke about it. longer, anyway

what you get

You can provide a specific prompt or idea, or you can be broad. broad as in, eg, anything hilson, early seasons wincest, rustmarty fluff

You WILL get a fic! you have my word! once I send it, it's yours to do with what you wish (share with friends, etc)

the right to politely tell me if you're dissatisfied with length or content and i'll do my best to fix it

what I need

veto power or the power to suggest another thing, or an edit. This is a fundraiser so I'll try my very best to write what you want, but I need theoretical veto power as a rule

Your patience and understanding with timelines because I'm a human with mental illness and a full time job. again: trust that I am doing my absolute best and you will get your fic

your cordiality, respect and trust

feel free to ask any Qs as replies to this post

let's fucking gooooooo 🇵🇸🇵🇸✊️✊️ ronisimunovic@gmail.com

[rhymeswithchronic]

*shimmies up to the mic*

*gently taps on it*

*clears throat*

Episode 6 just solidified PvP Civ as being better then Parkour Civ

*runs away as fast as possible*

OKAY LISTEN I will literally commit war crimes for EMF, my scrungly, and Parkour God Evbo, but to be perfectly honest most of the things that make the characters so lovable is headcanon or fanon. Parkour Civ is loved for the story, the light hearted nature and humor, ~the yaoi potential~ and the messages

Episode 6 alone has just solidified almost the entire cast of PvP Civ as individual, thought out characters. Really, the only one in ParkCiv with that kind of thought was Seawatt, with his tragic motivations followed by his death.

Parrot and Tabi have become SO MUCH MORE interesting because of the reveals, and I think Tabi has just immediately become one of my favorites because she’s just so INTERESTING. Someone who is so determined to reach a goal that she doesn’t care if she kills people in her way, but who also consciously *did not permanently kill Evbo despite having the ability to do so*. There’s still SOMETHING there that caused her to use the axe instead of the Eternal Sword, and THAT is the part of her that I think is truly her.

She was talking to someone towards the beginning (our great Parkour Villain himself can’t wait for PvP Villain ClownPierce) but there was something off about their conversation. Clown suggests that she shouldn’t be the one to do this because she’s younger and she “doesn’t deserve to die yet”. Something about their plan does not end well for the one who has to carry it out. Tabi is doing something and possibly sacrificing herself in the process.

Now here’s the thing: Why did she kill Evbo at all?

It could be for the reason that is presented to us. Because she doesn’t care about him. Because he was a tool she used to get what she needed and she didn’t care what had to happen to him for her to get there. She only brought up the literal torture he suffered FOR HER as a way to manipulate him further into following her orders, and now he’s just an obstacle

But that *doesn’t make sense*

If he was just an obstacle, WHY did she let him respawn? We can assume she didn’t know that Prince Zam was waiting since if she wanted Evbo to be killed and not respawn, she easily could’ve done that herself. But she DIDNT. She actively chose to use her axe on him and let him respawn. She has to know that Evbo is going to come after her. She has to know that Evbos continued existence, especially as a Natural Born Sword, is detrimental to their plan. She knows this and she chose to use her axe anyway

That leaves us with the other possible reason:

Tabi did it to SAVE Evbo

Hear me out on this. Talking about her discussion with Clown, here’s how it goes:

“Let me be the one to do it. You have a longer life that I do, and you don’t deserve to die yet.”

“We’re all gonna die if we don’t get that sword, and you know I’m the only one good enough to get it.”

Clown suggests here that somehow, this plan will end up with someone dying. He is offering himself because she “has a longer life”, which could mean he’s older and has lower durability than her, or something else entirely, but that’s up in the air.

Tabi is SMART. She knows exactly what she’s doing and why. She knows that there’s a solid chance that she will die, but she’s willing to risk that for immortality. “We’re all gonna die”? Because of the other kingdoms?

Whatever it is, whatever she meant, she did not want Evbo as a part of this. She told him to move first. Attacking was not her first priority. She didn’t want to kill him, but she knew one thing:

Evbo could not go with her.

If she stayed true to her word, if she left together with Evbo, she knew he would want to stay with her. He would stay by her side no matter what. And she just couldn’t bare the idea of leading Evbo to his own death from their plan. Maybe she was hoping giving her the time to flee would allow the Diamond Swords to convince Evbo to not leave at all. Not like it would take much convincing (in her eyes) since he was already attached. Inside of the civilization is the safest place for someone as trusting and naive as him. She wanted to keep him safe, and if he came with her, the same thing that would kill her would end up killing him.

Tabi killed Evbo to save him I rest my case

[forgivenpunishment]

Before Wolfwood can argue about his clothes being fine thank you, Vash is in his trance—clearly uncomfortable. He furrows his brow in concern, wanting to reach out, to bring Vash back, but if he does then he might get sucked into the mindspace as well and... that wouldn't be great if he's supposed to be guarding the Plants.

So... he sighs. Instinctively, he reaches in his blazer to find his cigaret—

Oh yeah, his shirt and blazer are riddled with bullet holes. That must've been what Vash meant by new clothes. Well, that isn't his fault; Wolfwood had been the one to try that reckless tactic in the first place, hadn't he?

Sighing again, this time in frustration, he turns away to scan the room before noticing the curious Plant staring at him. He looks behind him for anything else she could be staring at, but finds nothing except guardrails and walkways. It... looks like she wants him to do the same thing Vash is doing, but... if he does that, then...

"You know I got a job to do, yeah?" Wolfwood speaks to her, looking her in the eyes, "I have to keep your brother safe from any creepy crawlies and make sure he comes back once he's done..."

He scratches the side of his head, digging his fingers into too dense black fluff that, again, probably needs to be cut. Is this because he's no longer fully human? Because he's... whatever he is... he's part Plant? Does she think he's one of them?

Fixing her a stern stare, Wolfwood tries to listen for any hint of danger. Still nothing—which is eerie, but there shouldn't be any noise down here outside of machinery anyway.

"... Okay fine—but I can't, uh... I don't know what I'm doing. And I can't be gone for long. And I don't even know if this will work. So, uh... be gentle with me?"

Wolfwood approaches the tank cautiously. He's not usually one to submit to whims or curiosities (especially if there's danger), but if there's a chance that he can help things go a little faster... that he can help Vash... it's worth it. Probably. Unless it goes to shit.

Still unsure of himself and trembling, the undertaker approaches the tank and places his palms against the glass to match hers and then, hesitantly, allows his forehead to make contact with the cool, smooth glass.

Vash would quietly revel in that lingering touch, more than he probably should have. Something that would be a good lifeline, if he needed it... so he held onto the feeling as long as he possibly could just to burn it into his memory; the same way he would if this was the last time Wolfwood would ever touch him like this--

"You say that like I don't already owe you those things after dragging you to a place like this..." he said, laughing lightly and nervously, as a sort of filler sound. The sooner he started, the better, but he could spare a second to look over his shoulder, so he could (hopefully) reassure his partner. He'd done this... hundreds of times in his lifetime thus far; the ballpark figured had to be somewhere nearer to the thousands than not. What was there to be scared of?

... the unpredictability of it, for starters, with his innate connection to his sisters having been forcibly opened up. But Wolfwood was there... and if there was anyone who would fight, tooth and nail, to bring him back from the brink if something were to go wrong, it was Nicholas D. Wolfwood.

And probably at a cost to himself, so let's just make sure that that nothing goes wrong this time. Easy, right?

"... next town we're in. I'll treat you there, okay? A nice dinner, cigarettes, and new clothes. Maybe even a nicer hotel if I can swing it~."

A promise without saying it was a promise. Vash was not getting dragged in this time-- he was coming back and he would give Wolfwood those things, no matter how long it took to work up the cash to do so... but they had to get this done first in order to get to that, so...

No more stalling. The blond turned his head and faced forward again-- and with a quick, quiet breath both in and out, he tipped his head forward, pressing his forehead to the glass. While his patterns ignited and brightened his skin, the Dependent did the same, lifting her head and bringing her face up close, closing her eyes, and...

Instantly. Instantly, it felt so, so awful. Vash couldn't stop himself from letting another noise slip through, but it was less of a shout this time. One of those involuntary sounds of discomfort; around the same level as someone groaning about a headache that suddenly came on.

No immediate pull, though. So far, so good...

... some of the healthier Dependents were looking over, probably wondering what was going on. If their kin was going to be alright. But one in particular, the one leftmost of the tank Vash was touching... she seemed to be staring at Wolfwood in particular. Drifting lower in her tank to get as close to the glass as she could, and blinking with big, curious eyes...

[mellosdrawings]

noooo not the n2 ship 😭 omg people can be so weird sob sob you have more drawings of them as adults and frankly why does it even matter?!? it's not even an illegal ship sob (eg. incest or smth else that normally turns heads in fandoms) if you don't like it, don't read it???? (i personally like it tons!)

-🥬

(About this post)

Well, you know, it's the usual Leojami age difference discourse. I just delete those comments anyway, but I'm glad you like the N2 squad :3

I won't develop too much since I don't want this blog to be about discourse (I'm giving my opinions plenty on my sideblog) but here's what I think about these topics:

-I'm vehemently anti-censorship. I don't think something shouldn't ever exist and I will never push for something to be censored, even if it's stuff that makes me uncomfortable. I think warnings about particular contents are great, but in the end it's my responsibility to curate my experience with banning # and blocking people, etc etc. Even illegal stuff should be portrayed. If people can draw/write about murderers and conmen without a fuss, then they can also do that about taboo/illegal sexual topics. Depiction is not endorsement.

-I believe the reader/viewer is the one who injects meaning to art/stories. I'm an artist and all the things I do mean something, but that meaning doesn't prevail over the meaning my viewers inject in my art. I regularly see people "misreading" my comics in the tags, but it doesn't matter. Their interpretation is just as valid as mine, and if they wanna see ships where I didn't mean to draw ships, or if they interpret a scene as negative when I meant for it to be positive, then it's either my role as the content creator to be more explicit/obvious with what I meant, or to simply let my viewers have fun however they want with my stuff. I don't believe in the "there's only one valid interpretation and everybody who thinks otherwise is wrong".

(That's also why I don't really believe in DNI. People you disagree with will interact with your stuff anyway, caring about those things will just anger and tire you for nothing. I try to avoid interacting with people who have DNI that probably include me? But considering "proship" means anything and nothing it's hard to tell whether N2/LeoJami is considered a proship or not.)

Tldr: I'm anti-censorship and I think everybody should make and enjoy the content they want, even if it's topics that are usually frowned upon. Imagination is the one place one should be able to go hogwild without fearing retribution.