#so much effort went into fully making it feel like the game was made as a pixel game

[osohchoso]

Shattered Ice

Chapter Three- Black Flash

Hockey player!Choso x F!reader, ex bf!Toji x F!reader

Previous | Chapter Index | Class list | Chapter 4 coming soon!

Content: Hockey AU, College Au, friendly teasing, deep thoughts, alcohol and smoking, SatoSugu mentions, many JJK references lol.

The week went by quickly, and you did everything you could to keep your mind off the impending project you were assigned to complete with Choso. You buried yourself in homework, cleaning the dorm and even volunteered to microchip at a local animal shelter for extra credit. The project was the last thing you wanted to think about. You made no effort in contacting him to set up a time to start it together, but neither had he. The few chances you passed him in the halls, you completely ignored him. Unsure if he tried to make a move to get your attention in return.

Monday would be here again soon, and you needed to think of a realistic plan fast. You weren't sure how long you could fully avoid him when you're trapped in your shared class for an hour once a week.

The day that followed your first public speaking class, you set up a follow-up appointment with Mr. Gakuganji. Marking the email as urgent. Marching right into his office the second he sat behind his desk, an annoyed look plastered on his face like he already anticipated what your next words would be. 

“Please, let me change classes.” You pleaded. It could be a different day, different time, different semester. You didn’t care as long as it got you far away from Choso. Most of your veterinary friends were put into the Wednesday class, if you could get moved to then the class would go by like a breeze. Instead of how it is now. Agonizingly slow while you await impending doom. Waiting for the fallout of last week’s party to catch up to you. 

“No” Your counselor answered sternly, not even bothering to turn his computer on and search the seat availability for the other time slots. 

“But-” You open your mouth to object, the word coming out in a shrill cry before he cuts you off.

“I said no and that's final.” He shut you down, shooting a glare your way. “Look, I don’t care about whatever childish reason you have, you can figure it out on your own. There are no more open spots, deal with it” 

“What if-” You try again, hoping maybe you could drop it for the semester and put it off until the next. Even if that meant a heavier workload next year, you wouldn’t mind if it saved you from this awkward situation. 

“How many times do I need to tell you no? Do I need to spell it out? N. O.” You shut your mouth, jaw clenching, as he raises his voice ever so slightly. It was kind of a shock, you had asked so nicely and expected it to work in your favor. “Do you understand now?” 

“Yes sir” You say shakily, standing up from the chair in his office. You hadn’t expected to feel so humiliated after this meeting.

“Good, don’t bother me with stupid questions again.” He sighed, waving you out of the office. As you walked out, the defeat started to sink in. You were stuck with him.

As the week went on, you attempted to hatch a plan on how to deal with Choso as your partner. You wanted to minimize as much interaction with him as possible, to protect yourself from further embarrassment. Maybe you could do the whole project yourself. All the research, preparing the powerpoint, everything. Choso wouldn’t mind, right? A typical jock would be ecstatic to have someone do all the work for them. As for the speech part, you could write him a script to follow for the presentation. With just the minimal amount of speaking parts to land him a good grade as well. 

But you could work on that later, it was Friday night afterall. 

“You almost ready?” Shoko shouts from the other side of your bedroom door. Tonight you were attending the second home game here at Kaisen University, accompanied by Shoko and Satoru. The pair always goes with you to every game, Satoru because he has to support his boyfriend while Shoko goes just to get drunk. You go for the love of the game. 

“Almost!” You yell back, buttoning up your jeans in front of the mirror. You just needed to find a shirt to wear. Suguru dropped off the skirt you left at the last party earlier this week, cleaned just like Choso promised, but the crop top you wore was missing. Maybe the shirt was ruined beyond repair. It would have been the perfect outfit to wear tonight to support the Curses, oh well. You settle for a red and navy striped crewneck, even if you couldn’t find your official gear you could at least rep the school’s colors.

Stepping out, you see Shoko impatiently waiting by the door. Shoes laced up and purse slung over her shoulder. You step into your shoes and tie them tightly, throwing a glance over to Utahime on the couch. Sitting there in lounge clothes, tapping away at the laptop on the coffee table, brows pinched together.

“You sure you can’t come tonight?” You ask your second roommate. Utahime doesn’t attend as many games as you but she is always such a fun addition when she does. Opposite of the serious girl you see in front of you, hard at work.

“Sorry, I wish I could” She sighs, stretching her back out from her hunched position. “I have a report due at midnight. Honestly , Gojo shouldn’t be going tonight either, I doubt he finished his already.” She spits his name in a way that makes you laugh, those two are always fighting. 

“Wish you could come with us.” Shoko pouts at her friend, reaching for the door handle. She pulls it open and turns her attention back to you. “Come on, Satoru is already at the stadium. He saved us two seats.” Shoko grabs your arm and practically drags you out the front door. 

A quick jog across campus, chilly air nipping at your nose, and you reach the hockey arena. The two of you file inside the stadium, searching the stands for the familiar snow white hair of your friend. He sticks out like a sore thumb against the busy crowd, a beacon during a storm. He had picked some excellent seats to watch the game too, front row beside the home team’s goal. He turns to you as you rush to his side.

“There you two are! You're late! Thought maybe you abandoned me!” He jokingly scolds you, a pair of black circle glasses covering his eyes even though he is indoors. Shoko snatches them off his face, putting them on herself and revealing his piercing blue stare. 

“You know how long this one takes to get ready” Shoko teases, sticking her thumb in your direction. 

“Hey! We made it just in time.” You defend, unable to conceal your smile. You slide past both of them to claim one of the seats, Satoru and Shoko joining you on either side. The game starts only a few minutes later, lights dimming and music booming as the spotlight shines to introduce the team. Crowd erupting in a wave of cheers in all directions. 

“The captain of Kaisen University, the king of Curses in the flesh, Ryomen Sukuna!!” The announcer roars as you watch the team captain skate onto the ice, the spotlight following him around as people chant his dumb nickname. He basks in the praise, pumping his fist in the air.

“More like the disgraced one” you scoff under your breath. Sure, the arrogant man was a great player. A record of goals in his history on the team, but he played dirty. Also holding a record for the most times sent to the penalty box. Known for his bad temper and always itching for a fight. You can't help but roll your eyes as you witness the smug grin he wears during his lap around the rink.

The rest of his team follows him out. You recognize a few of them from your friend circle. Suguru, Yuki, Kento. 

“She’s so hot” Shoko sighs dreamily, watching as the team's first and only female hockey player takes her lap on the ice. Smiling and waving to her adoring fans. Yuki Tsukumo worked hard to get where she was, facing lots of misogyny along the way to stake a claim in a male dominated sport. Now she represents the team skillfully, earning lots of respect from players and fans alike.

“That's my boyfriend!!” Satoru shouts, jumping up from where he sat. He points to Suguru as he passes by, who is pretending like Satoru isn’t screaming his lungs off. Suguru puts a hand in front of his face, trying to block out the embarrassing screams of his number one fan. “Love you Sugu!!” Satoru continues to fan-girl until you grab his wrist and pull him back to sit in his spot.  

Of course you spot Choso, your pupils easily spotting the number 7 printed under his last name on the navy jersey. The gear layered underneath along with the heavy padding covering his limbs only serve to make his already thick build somehow larger. A focused expression behind his helmet, he has entered game mode. Skating over to the goal he calls home, right in front of your seats.

The opposing team strides onto the ice, yellow and white jerseys flash past as they do their own lap. They don’t receive an ounce of the fanfare compared to the home team. The once cheering crowd turned into a chorus of ‘boos’ and taunts.  

The game starts and the excitement is electric. The sharp sound of skates on ice almost puts you in a trance as you watch the game. The away team was good, almost on par with Kaisen University. Every time your team scored a point, they would follow up with one of their own. This would be a close game. 

Your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own though. Instead of being glued to the puck like every game before this one, you find your eyes floating to the home team goalie. Every impressive save, every frustrated fail. Constantly checking to see his reactions throughout the game. Making sure to take in every detail of the man you vowed to avoid. 

Intermission comes and you watch Choso skate to the bench, peeling his helmet off his sweaty head. Long brown locks slick to his flushed face. Perfect lips parted as he squeezed a water bottle for a much needed drink. Off in his own world, probably psychoanalyzing every play of the game up to this point.

“Look! It’s Takaba!” Satrou elbows your side, taking your attention away from the resting goalie. Looking over the ice, you watch as a cartoonish ghost skates. While most teams have a mascot that is a fearsome animal, tigers, sharks or such, your school is known as the Curses. The man inside is Fumihiko Takaba from the theater program, and he does a damn good job of putting on a comedic performance. 

“Ugh, cringe. I’m gonna grab us some drinks, be right back.” Shoko groans as she rises from the seat. Before walking away she hands the circle shades she was still wearing back to their rightful owner. Satoru places them back on his face, turning to you once Shoko was gone. Devilish grin curling across his lips. 

“What’s that stupid look for?” you sigh, digging a finger into his side. Your best friend leans in, his breath brushing against your ear.

“You gonna kiss Kamo again tonight?” He whispers, causing heat to flood to your face, warming your still chilly skin.

“Of course not!” You snap back at him, placing your palm against his forehead to shove his face away. “Why would you even ask that!”

“Come on! You seemed to enjoy it sooo much last time” Satoru is relentless with his teasing. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.” 

“I’m not interested. I was drunk Satoru” You cross your arms and look away. “You can't hold my drunk self accountable for that.”

“Not interested? You're such a liar” He says it so matter-of-factly, like he knows more than your own heart does. And maybe he does. Swinging your head back to face him, blue orbs peering behind dark glasses, smirk on his face as he awaits your admission. 

“No. I’m not” You double down. 

“Bullshit.” He huffs, causing you to glare. “I see how you have been watching him all night. You can’t keep your eyes off of him. Admit it!” 

You want to come up with a witty retort, something to make him drop this whole conversation once and for all. Yet you come up empty handed, staring at your friend like a fool. Thankfully, Shoko comes to the rescue. 

“I’m back!” She sings, handing a can of beer to each of you. You gratefully accept it, wrapping your fingers around the ice cold can. Taking an eager first sip in hopes of clipping the wings of the butterflies that threaten to take flight in your stomach. 

“You know I hate beer Shoko” Satoru pouts, taking the can and bringing it up to his glossy lips to drink the world's smallest sip. A wince as it travels down his throat.

“Oh, whatever Gojo, you can handle it.” Shoko teases in return, leaving you thankful to be out of the spotlight.

The game resumes, clock ticking down in the last period. The scores are so close, with the Curses only up by one point. Everyone in the stands watches on the edge of their seat, holding their breath as a player from the away team passes the puck to his teammate. The opposing player readies his stick, swinging hard and fast to send the puck hurtling toward the goal. Seconds ticking down on the clock.

If the Kaisen goalie can defend it, the game will be won. Their second game in a row, setting a tone for the rest of the season as menacing champions. If he misses, if the puck flies straight into the net, the game will go into overtime. Judging by the exhausted expressions on the home team’s faces, dragging this game out could cost them. 

The puck was fast, soaring through the air. Speed threatening to break past even the best defenses. It would slip past most goalies easily. 

But Choso wasn’t like most goalies, he was faster, eyes locked on the black blur as it catapulted toward him. Skillfully snatching it mid-flight with his left gloved hand. The loud blaring of the buzzer rings through the air, signaling the end of the last period as Choso holds the caught puck up like a prize. The entire arena erupts in excitement, chanting his name over and over until ‘Let's go Choso’ is the only thing you can hear.

His teammates rush him on the ice, surrounding him in a circle of praises and chants. Hands patting his back and helmet as they congratulate him on that game saving move. 

“That was incredible!’ Even Satoru was hyped after that play, still raving about it as the three of you stood from your seats to head outside. “He was so fast!” 

“Yes, I saw” You and Shoko say in unison, feeling like sardines as you push your way through the crowd. A little claustrophobic as everyone attempts to leave at once. Stepping out into the chilly air outside tasted like sweet relief. 

“Sure you don’t want to kiss him now?” Satoru teased again, obvious that he was only acting like this to get a rise out of you. Though you wouldn’t admit it to him, you kinda did want to. He looked pretty hot during tonight's game, off in his own world where nothing but the puck mattered. The last stunt he pulled only added to his attractiveness in your eyes. 

Though maybe it wasn’t only in your eyes. A group of girls pass by outside, gushing about the Kaisen goalie. One of them convincing the others she was going to get between his sheets tonight. 

“What now?” You asked the group after standing out in the cold for a few minutes, watching as Shoko sticks an unlit cigarette between her lips. Her other hand fumbling for a lighter in her jacket. She was wearing Satoru's glasses again, you didn't even notice her steal them this time. A running gag between the two of them since the beginning of their friendship. 

“Dunno. Suguru said the house is still trashed from last week so no party there” She responds, irritation seeping through as she comes up empty handed in her quest for a lighter. You turn to Satoru, about to ask if he has any ideas. But you stop, watching as the familiar face of his boyfriend stalking behind your best friend. A finger pressed to his lips as he warns you not to give away his presence. 

“Guess who!” He purrs, lips pressed against his white hair as he covers Satrou’s blue eyes with two hands.

“Suguru!” Satoru spins around, throwing his arms around his dark-haired boyfriend to pepper his cheek in kisses. You gag loudly, making sure they remember that you and Shoko are still right here. They break apart, Suguru fishing a lighter out of his pocket and extending his arm in offering for Shoko. Your friend greedily snatches it up, lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply. 

“That really was a great game” You tell your hockey playing friend, his dark hair pulled in a still damp bun from his quick shower in the locker room. Changed out of his jersey and into a casual jean and jacket combo “Congratulations on another win” Suguru smiles at your praise, pulling you into a side hug.

“Thanks! We hope to go undefeated this season.” He explains, and with the roster they have, it's definitely possible. “Do you guys want to head to the bar with us? The team is heading to Boogie Woogie to celebrate.” Shoko’s eyes light up, nodding as she presses the still burning cigarette to the cold metal railing. 

“Of course we want to go! Who do you think we are!” She flicks the cigarette away, wrapping an arm around yours. 

“Alright, let's head out then” Suguru laces his fingers with Satoru, leading the group toward the parking lot. His sleek black car sticks out like a sore thumb against the others, Satoru definitely splurged just a bit on his boyfriend’s last birthday. You and Shoko climb into the back seat, the booming music doing little to block out their shameless flirting on the ride.

Boogie Woogie was the best college bar around. Not far from campus and huge supporters of the hockey team, which made it the obvious choice for an after party. Every winning game they supply the team with a round of celebratory beers, and every losing game two rounds of shots to numb the pain. Game nights they also served a special concoction they called ‘Black Flash’, a mix of delicious fruity flavors that resulted in an odd black-red color. 

The strobing blue and red neon lights greet you as you walk up to the brick building. The roars of celebrating and deafening music assault your ears before you even step through the front door. This place was sort of a tradition after games for everyone, not just the hockey team, of course it would be crowded tonight. 

The second you enter, your group of four splits in separate ways. Suguru drags Satoru across the bar without even muttering so much as a goodbye to you, forcing your white-haired best friend to socialize with Suguru’s hockey pals Kento and Miguel. You turn your head back to Shoko, at least you still have her by your side. Or so you thought. 

She seemed to vanish out of thin air, teleported away. You let out a lengthy sigh, they always find a way to abandon you it seems. You'll track Shoko down later, first you need to get a drink in you. 

You make your way over to the bar counter, hopping up onto the stool and resting an arm on the sticky wood surface. Your other hand waves to one of the bartenders on duty, Yu Haibara. He passes a beer to a patron then rushes to you, calling your name.

“Hey! How are you!” The brown-haired boy greets you, leaning over the counter to wrap you in a hug. 

“I’m good, how are you?” You smile. You met Yu last year when he joined Kaisen University as a freshman. He tried out for the hockey team but they picked his best friend Kento instead, so Yu decided to do the next best thing. Getting a part-time job at the most hockey obsessed bar in town. Everynight you joined the team here after, Yu was there. Always so friendly and easy to talk to too, causing you to befriend him quickly. 

“I’m great!” He pulls away from the embrace, grabbing a nearby silver shaker. You don’t even have to ask for your drink, he knows what you're here for. “I’m loving all my classes this year, making lots of friends. Oh! Kento is going to help me practice so maybe I can join the hockey team next year!” He doesn’t ever pause as he speaks, spitting out every thought at record pace. All while expertly flicking his wrists, shaking a mixture of liquor and juice above his head.

“That’s great Yu! I look forward to watching you soon.” You encourage him with a genuine smile, watching as he pours the deep red liquid into a highball glass. Before he passes the drink over, he has to add the finishing touch. Topping off the cup with a shiny cherry and a sprig of mint.

“Black flash!” He shouts, setting the drink in front of you. Proud of his creation, like this isn’t the eighth black flash he's made in the last hour. 

“Thanks” You smile at him, sliding some cash across the counter. You bring your lips to the straw. The taste of black cherries, pomegranates and diverse rums flood your taste buds. Such a sweet drink for the game’s sweet victory. “Hey, have you seen Shoko?” You question him. Yu squints his eyes, tapping his chin with a finger as he scans the bar. 

“There!” he exclaims, pointing across the bar. You follow his finger, past the chattering crowd and already drunk hockey players. Against the far wall is a pool table, Shoko is drinking a beer and leaning a hip against the side, cue stick in her other hand. Watching as Yuki takes her turn, knocking a striped ball into the corner pocket.

“Thanks, talk to you later. I should go join them.” You hop down from the barstool and walk in the direction of the two girls, drink in hand. You keep your eyes down as you force your way through the packed bar. Catching bits and pieces of conversations as you passed. Lips around the straw, fully engrossed in your drink as you walk. Shoko has a sort of obsession with the tall blonde, and honestly, can you blame her?

Due to your lack of awareness, you ran right into someone’s hard chest. Red liquid from your cup spraying over the muscles concealed by a tight white shirt. Quickly soaking through and reaching the victim’s skin below. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You quickly set your now empty cup down on a nearby table and grab a wad of napkins. Pressing them against the wet fabric to soak it up, feeling the muscles contract underneath your touch. “It was an accident I swear” You look up to see the face of your poor unsuspecting target. 

Choso. 

For a second, he looked slightly upset. His dark brows drawn together as he scowls down at you. But the second he realized it was you, the resentment vanished. A softer expression paired with a smirk now in play.

“Maybe you should look where you're going,” He teases. So much for your plan to avoid him. You retract your hand to look at the stain, sticking out like blood on snow. 

“I’m really sorry, I’ll replace it.” You promise, shoving the soiled napkins inside your empty cup. He pinched his shirt, examining the damage himself. 

“Don’t worry about it, my fault for wearing a white shirt to this place.” He shrugs, indifferent to the ordeal. His eyes lift from your face, tracking the movements of someone shuffling behind you. In one swift movement, Choso wraps a large arm around your shoulders, pulling him flat against his broad chest. From the corner of your eye, you watch a silver-haired boy tumble to the ground, spilling his beer all over the floor where you had just been standing. “See what I mean” Choso laughs, releasing you from his grip.

You laugh awkwardly, not sure what even to say. First you make a mess all over him and then he saves you from encountering the same fate. 

“Let me buy you a drink.” You blurt out, catching his attention. “Partly for my accident, but partly to celebrate the great game you played.” He stares at you, bored. For a moment, you weren't sure if your words even reached his ears until he muttered a quiet:

“Sure.” 

He followed you through the crowd and back to the bar, the two of you sitting side by side. You wave Yu over, who whipped up another Black Flash to replace the one you spilled and slid a frosty mug of beer to Choso. 

The two of you drink in silence. You want to say something, but you're not sure where to start. There is too much weighing on your thoughts, dragging you down. The party last weekend, the upcoming project, tonight’s spill. As you sip the fruity drink, you notice him watching from the corner of your eye. Stealing glances your way, thinking you won't notice, while he waits for you to start speaking. When you continue to stay silent, he turns toward you on the bar stool, opening his mouth to make the first move. 

“Kamo! Get over here!” A loud male voice interrupts him before he can get his own words out. You both turn to see one of the hockey players, a tired looking man with a hooked nose. An indifferent look on his face that rivals even Choso’s usual expression, but the man’s skin is slightly flushed, indicating just how intoxicated he is. “Sukuna wants to give a speech.” 

“Be there in a second, Hiromi” He tells the man before turning to you. “Sorry, talk to you later.” Choso stands up with his beer and walks off to join the growing crowd of his teammates, throwing his arms around the man he called Hiromi and the younger silver-haired boy from earlier. 

“See you” You whisper quietly, turning back to face the bar. You let out an exaggerated sigh, washing away your worries with a large sip of your drink. 

“Geez, what’s got you down?” Yu’s voice grabs your attention as he wipes the counter in front of you with a wet rag. 

“Nothing...just..” The sound of the team cheering in the background cuts you off, allowing you time to hesitate, but Yu gives you a pleading look. Resembling a puppy begging for one more treat, the expression forces a smile to your face. In turn, you give in. Spilling every embarrassing detail from the last week and the plan to avoid Choso. He gives you his full attention, only pausing when another customer orders something at the bar. 

“That’s dumb” He says with a laugh after you finally finish your tale.

“I’m sorry?” you half-laugh, shocked by his reaction. You had just poured your soul out for him and he responded with two simple words.

“Well…it’s just silly.” He explains, picking up your empty glass and shaking it. A silent ask for if you want a refill, you shake your head no. “ Who hasn’t done a couple of stupid things drunk. Plus, I don't think Choso cares. I doubt he thinks differently of you after one crazy night, he’s actually a really nice guy, just a bit quiet. Give him a chance. Plus, I don’t think you'll succeed in ignoring him forever. You're just going to keep running into him like you did tonight.” Yu points out the facts, his voice gentle as he speaks factually. 

Reality sets in. It will be unrealistic to keep avoiding him. Kaisen University isn’t the biggest school, everyone’s friend circles seem to connect in one way or another. Lately, you can’t stop encountering the goalie. The longer you put it off, the more awkward things will become in the long run. Who knows, maybe you and Choso could end up a great pair. Two good friends if given the shot. You're going to have to rip the bandaid off eventually and face your fears. 

But not today.

“Thanks” You smile at him again, talking with the kind bartender was always helpful. Yu has always been a good listener, offering you helpful advice in turn. You notice the time on the clock behind the counter, it’s getting late. “I should probably go find Shoko” You tell him as you slip off of the barstool.

“See you later!” he calls after you, picking up your empty glass to clean.

You wander around the bar, looking around for your brunette friend. She was no longer playing pool and she wasn’t hanging around Yuki either. You checked the bathroom and she also wasn't there. Probably outside smoking a cigarette . You tell yourself, walking toward the metal door in the back of the bar that leads to the alley. You push through it, the door slamming shut behind you. 

Outside in the chilly air, you don't spot your friend at all. Instead, you see Choso again. He’s the only one out here, leaning against the brick wall with one foot pressed against the building. His head tilted up, eyes stuck on the moon as he blew out a puff of smoke from the cigarette between his fingers. The moonlight casts a glow on his features that make him look so ethereal, too beautiful for this world. 

You froze as you stared at him, torn between saying something or sneaking back inside unnoticed. Though the slamming door had other plans. The loud metallic clang alerted Choso, causing him to flinch, snapping his head to meet you. His eyes lock onto yours, looking even more tired than usual.

“Hey…” He whispers, exhaustion dripping from his tone.

“Hey.” You echo. Too late to escape now. You walk until you're standing next to him, back pressed against the wall to mirror him. He turns back to the moon, inhaling deeply on his cigarette. Silence spreads over the two of you, the only sounds are the crickets and the occasional car passing by. 

“Do you ever feel like…like you aren’t who you are meant to be?” Choso is the first to speak, eyes still on the night sky. The unprompted seriousness startles you, he doesn’t even give you time to respond before speaking again. “I’m just so tired all the time…trying to be someone I'm not. Everyone has such crazy expectations of me, to be the best at all times. The best student, the best goalie. They expect me to be some shining star in the center of the universe.”

He takes another long drag of his cigarette, the glittering cosmos above reflecting in his dark gaze.

“But…what happens when that star burns out?” He finally turns to face you, the true weight of his exhaustion etched into the bags under his eyes. His skin pale and dull, looking almost corpse-like now that you see him fully. How long has he been feeling this way?

“Choso…I…” You trail off, not even sure what you can say right now. In all truth, you have never felt this way. Your whole life there was always someone praising you, telling you how proud they were of your accomplishments. And even when you failed, you were comforted, being told ‘there is always next time’. You always felt like you belonged, like you were right where you needed to be. Always felt invincible, like you could do anything your heart desired and never gave up on your dreams. How could you say anything when you can’t relate? 

“Nevermind” He shakes his head when you fail to vocalize an encouraging notion, dismissing his suffocating thoughts. “Please…just forget I said that. Didn't mean to get all deep on you.” He quickly replaces his frown with a tiny welcoming smile, a mask to hide his internal turmoil. 

“Choso…no…” You reach out, wrapping a hand around his bare bicep. The sudden contact causes goosebumps to prick along his skin underneath your palm. “If something is wrong, you can tell me.” You lean against him, looking up into his eyes where you can still see the swirling turmoil. He whispers your name softly, shaking his head no.

“Everything is fine.” He tries to assure you. “We are supposed to be celebrating after all, I don’t want to bring the mood down.” He takes one more hit on his cigarette, turning his head to blow the smoke away from you, then pressing it against the wall to extinguish it. 

“Choso..” You plead, not wanting to give up. He is hurting internally, you can tell it.  

“It’s fine. I really don’t want to talk about it.” He stops you sharply, any follow up questions you had die before you can speak them. 

He suddenly brings his face close to yours, so close you can taste the harsh tobacco off his tongue. He narrows his eyes, looking at your parted lips. Your heart stutters inside your chest.

“Your lips…” He trails off, shamelessly staring. Successful in shifting the conversation away from himself. “They are all…red.” he remarks. A side effect of the black flash, that crimson liquid always stains everything. Counter tops, clothes, lips…you name it. 

“Yeah, it’s from the drink” You raise your thumb up, swiping it across your bottom lip in hopes of lessening the stain. His eyes track every movement, a wolf hunting his prey. He swallows hard before backing up, creating distance that is instantly filled with the cold autumn breeze. He shivers, likely regretting not wearing a jacket for his quick smoke break. 

“I should head back inside.” He walks toward the door leading back to the bar.

“Me too” You admit, palms slightly sweaty from his closeness, despite the low temperature. He holds the door open for you then follows you in. Offering a slight wave before he heads off to find his teammates again. 

You depart back on your quest of finding Shoko. Wandering around, checking all the usual places she runs off to and coming up empty handed. Come to think about it, you haven't seen the white and black hairs of your friends Satoru or Suguru either. Not since arriving. The bar patrons are starting to thin out too, many guests heading home for the night. You stand off to the side, in the dark corner where the broken pinball game sits, worry gripping your stomach as you pull out your phone and check the messages. Opening it to see a string of five texts and a few missed calls while you were outside with Choso.

[Missed call from Shoko]

Shoko: Where are you???

Shoko: Suguru wants to leave soon

Shoko: Hello??

Shoko: Satoru has a headache, we are leaving now

[Missed call from Suguru]

Shoko: Guess we are leaving without you

Great, they left you stranded. Again.

The sudden grip of a large hand on your shoulder drags you out of your thoughts, sending a shiver down your spine. Finger pads pressing into your skin through the cloth of your shirt.

“You look lost.”

Taglist: @v1x3n @lavenderdaydream97 @simplyraeblue

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I hope eveyone is having a great holiday. Have a happy and safe New year!

Also, if you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[goopyguy]

playin dark souls remastered for the first time and i accidentally kinda made joe biden

[cupidbedsy]

𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 ; 𝘭𝘩43 ୨୧

➪ summary: luke is all but tired when him and jack arrive home from a game, but luckily for him, y/n's there to help

➪ warnings: the one rags v. devils game where everyone decided to fight, tired luke. broken plate, luke thinking reader and jack is mad at him, hate comments, jack thinking he's a shitty big brother

➪ word count: 1.8k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: literally crying because i decided to edit this, negative feelings, and chicken noodle soup all in a row. i chose violence, be glad i'm not uploading them three days in a row. this was rough. but no i actually like how this fic turned out so yeah

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

lh43 masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

She had let herself into their apartment halfway through the second period. She had been watching from her dorm and when the first fight broke out, two seconds into the game, she knew the team was in for a wild night. As the game went on and they showed the bench and the players, she knew both her boyfriend and his brother were tired. 

That’s when she made the executive decision to “break in” to their apartment and make them dinner. She was grateful that their fridge was fully stocked and she didn’t have to run back out to the grocery store. She got to work quickly, making something easy but also filling for both of them. While spaghetti and meatballs weren’t any of their favorite meals, not that she was hungry anyway, she knew they would appreciate the effort nonetheless. 

When the game was over she sighed at the final score, after what they had been through tonight, they deserved the win. Worried about Luke and being one of only four defensemen on the ice, she looked to see how much time he was actually on the ice and was appalled when it read 32:49. She knew he had been tired these past few weeks, this team felt like it was on a never-ending cycle of bad luck. 

She was setting the plates down moments before they walked in the door, but when she was in the bathroom, that’s when she heard them. She heard the clatter of keys and shoes and walked out immediately. Luke was attempting to stand upright, slightly leaning on his older brother. Jack looked equally tired, attempting to support both him and Luke. 

She frowned as she made her way over to them, lightly grabbing onto Luke to lessen the weight on Jack’s body. He sighed in relief as he kicked his shoes off and made his way to sit down on the couch. Y/n stayed with Luke in the kitchen, walking him over to one of the chairs. With one hand she reached for his head and took the beanie he had been wearing off, using her other one to run her fingers through his damp curls. 

“Why don’t you go take a shower, both of you,” Jack whined from the couch while Luke just buried his head into her shoulder.

She felt like she could cry from the exhaustion they were displaying. She knew how they got, both of them. She had been dating Luke since their freshman year of high school. She knew the ins and outs of all three Hughes brothers if she was honest, never finding it weird or alarming. His family loved her, that she knew, but when Jack came home drunk one night and threw up on her shoes, she accepted her role in the family.

“Jack you first, come on.”

She continued running a hand through her boyfriend’s curls as she gazed at the older boy on the couch. He finally sat up, giving her an annoyed look, but she only rolled her eyes and pointed to the bathroom. She could keep Luke occupied for another 20 minutes, “Hi baby.”

Luke’s eyes were closed as his head laid on her shoulder, he mumbled something incoherently and he just sighed. She untangled her fingers from his hair and started to pull off his jacket, he whined at the loss of contact but allowed her to continue her actions. She took his jacket to his room and hung it up before walking back into the kitchen and checking on the pasta. 

Luke, despite being tired and his body being worn, he got up and made his way over to her in order to wrap his arms around her waist and dig his head into the crook of her neck, inhaling her fading scent. She smiled slightly, removing her one hand from the side of the pan to place on top of Luke’s, continuing to stir with the other. 

It was silent up until Jack came back, who plopped onto the chair his brother had previously sat in. She looked over at him and smiled, “Do you guys want to eat in the kitchen or in the living room? We could put a movie on?”

The two nodded and made their way over to the living room as she finished plating the food and bringing it over to them, placing the plates into their laps. They each let out simultaneous soft thank yous before eating. They chose a random movie and watched it as y/n cleaned the kitchen and finished doing some laundry that had been pushed to the side.  

She felt bad for both of them, both for different reasons but some the same. Mostly because of how the team was performing this year, the way that they couldn’t keep everyone off injured reserve. Yet, for Luke, it felt different. She felt more or less worried about him than bad for him. He had expectations to live up to, people to live up to, and she knew his mind all too well. She knew what he was thinking, that he wasn’t good enough.

And it wasn’t just him that thought that. They both knew about the tweets that were in response to people's comments under articles, the articles themselves about how Luke wasn’t as good as his brothers, wasn’t as good as he should be, wasn’t as good as people made him out to be. It was what Luke thought about the most.

There was clanging from the living room and then a crash. She immediately made her way out of the bedroom and looked in between Jack, who was still on the couch, the shattered plate on the floor, and Luke, who was standing in the hallway. His face looked conflicted but it morphed into one of fear and sadness. 

“Hey, hey, what happened?”

“I-” Luke couldn’t bring himself to talk, both terrified and still exhausted from the game. 

On the other hand, y/n’s face was calm and Jack’s face was sad with a hint of anger in his eyes. Anger towards John and Kevin for leaving the team with four defensemen, anger towards Travis for making Luke play that long, anger towards himself for not checking in on his brother enough, and anger towards the Rangers. 

“Luke, it’s okay. No one’s mad at you for dropping the plate.” Jack’s voice was soft as he stood up, slightly wobbling from his lack of balance. 

The younger boy only shook his head, reaching a hand out to lean against the wall. Y/n moved forward and wrapped her arms around Luke who then slowly sank to the ground. Her left hand was placed against his head, keeping it against her chest as her right arm wrapped around him. Luke started crying, soft sobs escaping his mouth.

She looked at Jack who took the hint to walk back into his bedroom. As soon as he left, Luke voiced his thoughts, “I’m tired. I’m so tired, y/n.”

The way his voice broke almost made her choke on a sob. She bit her lip to keep her tears at bay, refusing to let Luke know how she was feeling right now. She tangled her fingers in his hair, Luke allowing the movement to calm him down a little. His harsh sobs turned into soft sniffles in a matter of minutes. She was the only one who could soothe him like this besides his mom.

Lifting his head, he dug it back into the crook of her neck. She kissed his head and continued to run her fingers through his curls like she had done earlier, using her other hand to rub circles on his back. Ten minutes had passed and she looked over at the shattered glass a few feet away from her. Her legs had started to cramp from being in the position for so long and the added weight of Luke on them made it a little worse.

“How about you go take a shower while I clean the plate, okay?”

He pulled away from her and nodded his head slightly. She aided him in standing up and watched as he made his way to the bathroom to shower. Once the door closed, she made quick work of cleaning up the mess. After she was done, she went over and knocked on Jack’s bedroom door, “Hey.”

Jack snapped his head up in surprise, “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” 

“Jack, I’ve known you for 7 years. What’s wrong?” She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands underneath her. 

“I feel bad. I mean I was so excited for Luke to come to play with me but for some reason, I feel guilty. I don’t know. It just feels like I should do more for him. I didn’t want to bring up the comments, I see them too, you know.”

Her heart warmed at the words, at Jack being so worried about his little brother. She smiled a little before looking at him, “He loves you, Jack. More than you know. I cannot tell you the number of times he calls me and is like ‘Jack this’ and ‘Jack that’. You and Quinn are his idols, it’s hard to not notice that. He is so appreciative of you. And he knows there is nothing you can do about the comments that people make, it’s not your fault.”

Jack teared up a little but smiled at her, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now come on, give me a hug.”

Jack leaned over from his spot on the bed and hugged her, “Can I say I love you or is that too weird?” 

“Considering, I am betting on you becoming my sister-in-law, it’s not weird. I love you too, y/n/n.”

She heard a door close from down the hall and she pulled away and waved goodbye to Jack, making her way to her boyfriend’s room. When she walked in, Luke was lying on his bed, cuddling a pillow on his phone. She smiled at him and walked over to sit down, “Hi baby.”

He looked up at her and for the first time that night, he smiled. He reached out for her and she made herself comfortable on the bed, Luke wrapping his arms around her. In that moment, Luke was so grateful for her and all that she had done for him not only tonight but in the past seven years. She had been there for him through everything and that meant the absolute world to him. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Luke. And I am so so so so proud of you for tonight.”

His smile was small but genuine, “Now go to bed.” 

She kissed his forehead and the two wasted no time in falling asleep.

𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗝𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗦 𝗧𝗔���𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43 @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[radiance1]

Tucker finds a game installed on his pda one day.

He didn't know where it came from, nor what it was supposed to be and it looked more high quality than a few other games he's seen. So what did he do with it? Surely he should've not touched it and tried to delete it, right?

He wouldn't be apart of team phantom if he didn't also embody the "Fuck it we ball" energy.

So he plays it, finds it to be some dating sim based on the title screen and went through a good fair portion of it, it was fairly normal, if not really up his alleyway of games. But it had its moments though.

Then came Monika.

He didn't know what to do with her, in all honesty. She seemed to be a sapient Ai trapped in a dating sim, which was weird but not that weird compared to everything else in all honesty. She also killed off her friends, though her reasoning was because they weren't real and that it was the only way for her to have a romance route.

Kinda extra in his opinion, but he can see the reasoning.

So what does he do? Rummage around in the game's coding and makes a route for her.

(He swore he saw another pair of hands indirectly helping him when he did it, too.)

Monika was downright ecstatic when he was finished with it, he outlined a route for her but then she just took control of it, coding in events, mini-games, gifts and other sorts of things for her route. She thanked him immensely for outlining a route for her, since even with all of her control she couldn't directly go against core programming when it came to herself like that.

He was glad to help her out, really, she seemed like a pretty nice person, pushed outside of her core programming because of her sapience. He even coded Monika outside of the game and let her roam around in his pda, which accidentally added another layer of protection to his firewalls, but he isn't complaining.

Then she wondered how it would be like in the real world, with him and everyone else.

It really just went off from there.

Jack and Maddie are genius inventors, and now that they no longer have such a driving, blinding hatred towards ghost due to their son being revealed as a halfa, they no longer spend all of their time on ghost themed weapons and stuff.

So he went to them, showed them Monika (Which they were extremely impressed with) and decided to help him in building her a body! Probably also because they liked the challenge of building a body too, but meh.

Tucker drew up a design based on Monika's wishes, and tweaked it a bit here and there to ensure perfect human functionality.

Monika told Jack and Maddie that they didn't need to spend too much effort on it, since she would be fine with just a body, but Jack went no and they went all in. Did Tucker know what they were using to built her body? No, no he did not.

Apparently they made her body out of some rare metal they obtained from Vlad, who is trying very hard to redeem and put himself back in the Fenton's good graces after having some sense knocked into him, a rare metal called nth metal that Vlad apparently lost a lot trying to get, even had to use less then clean methods to get, but not anything he can't make back in a while.

Her blood was ectoplasm, with a fully functional heart made from the same metal and basically every other organs as well. Her brain was basically a supercomputer that'll let her connect to the internet whenever she wants, as well as allow her access to wifi from virtually wherever.

Her skin was made from another metal, one that imitated the feel and look of human skin, while also being more durable. They also added in features that'll simulate touch, taste, smell, sight, and hearing as well!

Monika was honestly floored when she was downloaded into the body, it was much, much more than she had asked for and she didn't even know if she could repay them for it. To which Jack and Maddie just waved off because the chance to make a body from scratch out of a rare metal that was basically just gonna lie there for a sapient Ai wasn't one that would come often, so the experience was invaluable honestly!

Monika tried out everything she could after that, just happy to be among real people after becoming aware. She could finally be with her boyfriend, physically, no longer bound by a wall between them.

Then a while later, she may have accidentally hacked into what Tucker later told her was the Justice League Watchtower. It wasn't even her fault, she just wanted to hack into a nearby satellite, honest!

It's not like Tucker could talk, really. He's been hacking into the local government database for a while now, and why, it's not like he could do better, could he?

He saw a challenge when he saw one, and he should shy away from it because it was the Justice League.

But

So then the both of them competed to see who could hack into the Justice League database the fastest. A romance game Ai who grew sapience and got into the real world, versus a guy who's insanely smart and good at hacking who got her into the real world.

Of course it couldn't have been that easy, though, and really, it wouldn't have been a true challenge is they didn't engage in a cyber battle against the people they're hacking into, right?

Meanwhile, the Justice League is watching as Batman, Tim, and Oracle is fighting against two unknowns hacking into their database and having what is no doubt a cyber battle of such intensity they're wondering how the hell that keyboard is still standing against how fast their fingers are flying across it.

Some of them can swear they can see Batman release an aura of impressed, annoyed, and amused all at once.

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 6)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

Part 6 -

When we finished eating and found nothing much on the tv I began to feel tired again. I guessed my body was still trying to make up the sleep defecit. Sluggishly I moved the leftovers to the fridge. I had wondered a couple of times how the apartment even had power, but figured that wouldn't be too hard to rig up some kind of illegal supply for. I mean who was going to come and check? With mobsters in your pocket, you could do anything in this city.

I drank some more water directly from the faucet and freed my toothbrush from it's packaging. Then I went to the bathroom and brushed for a good five minutes, given that it had been far too long since I was last able to clean my teeth. Returning to the main room, I squinted against the fluorescent strip lights.

"I need to go back to sleep, do you want the bed or the couch?" I announced, groggily.

His head snapped around.

"You'd kick me out of my own bed and make me sleep out here like a dog?" He said, pulling a melodramatic pout.

"No. I'm just a dealer of simple choices," I shot back mockingly, poorly imitating the way he spoke.

It might not have been the best call but there was something fun about teasing him, knowing full well it was a dangerous game to play.

He looked pleasantly surprised at my twisting of his own words.

"You sure you don't want me to help keep you warm? The temperature is going to drop overnight..." he said, eyes flicking down from my face and back up to watch for my reaction.

I cursed that he'd made me flustered so easily, feeling my cheeks betray me as I blushed.

"No, thank you," I mumbled, grabbing for the chair again, fully intending to barricade the door.

Despite the strange little tango we were locked in, I still knew who he was. I couldn't be sure he wouldn't strangle me in my sleep.

"You still don't trust me..." he called after me.

I stopped in the doorway.

"Can you blame me? If you were me, would you trust you?"

He didn't give it much pause for thought before answering.

"No."

His face lit up with a wicked smile that made my heart skip a beat, as he got to his feet and stalked across the room toward me. It took some conscious effort not to shrink away again. He placed an arm out on the frame so that he was looming over me and leaned in close.

"You're the one who nearly shot me, doll. Oh and, you should know, that really does things to a man," he growled out the last part, wired with a kind of peverse excitement.

I was frozen in place as he looked down over me. It suddenly occured to me that his interactions with people must always have a very specific power balance. Maybe that was something else he found interesting about me - I clearly was often scared by him, but at other times I'd happily played my hand. My cards might not have been as good as his, but I didn't just fold at the first sign of trouble.

"Then maybe," I said, burying my fear as deeply as I could, "you should be happy to take the couch."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you... threatening me?"

I shrugged, pulling closer to him, grasping his shirt collar as I did.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're playing with fire," he said, his breath sounding a little ragged.

I tugged him even closer to me, so close that there was barely an inch of sepration and I knew he could feel my breath as I spoke directly into his ear.

"I think, you are lonely. You don't want to kill me anymore, and that scares you. The man who isn't supposed to fear anything. Your world is being turned upside down..."

With suprising force he slammed me into the wall and clamped a hand around my throat. I had clearly hit a nerve. The back of my head felt fuzzy as the pain began to seep in.

"Are you sure about that?" He growled in my ear.

I blinked hard trying to clear my sore head.

"Smashing my head into the wall to start things isn't very smart," I muttered, trying to tuck my chin as he continued to grip my throat uncomfortably tightly.

"Why is that?"

"Because, if I don't know which way is up, or you knock me out, how am I supposed to react to whatever you do next... I pissed you off and you jumped in the deep end. You're rattled."

It was taking everything in me not to fly into a panic. His mouth and cheek twitched in irritation, as his hand closed even tighter around my throat. His eyes were ablaze with rage and I knew i'd got under his skin. It was a nice reversal for once. With a clack I released the blade of his knife, which I had slid out of his pocket as I was whispering in his ear. I held it roughly up to his throat.

"I thought... you liked the unpredictable..." I manged to get out through my gritted teeth.

He was squeezing hard enough that I felt dizzy and my vision was blurring a little, and I knew if he carried on this way I was in real danger of passing out.

His dark eyes flashed with a raging inferno again, as I stared right into them.

"You -" he began, but I cut him off by roughly pressing harder against his windpipe, drawing a little line of red.

"Let me go, and I might not cut your throat," I commanded.

I could see him weighing up how likely I was to not be bluffing.

"You think I won't? I won't enjoy it, but I'll do it if I have to. I don't pretend to be... something i'm not... you know that," I choked out.

He seemed to grit his teeth before he relented, easing off the vice grip he had on me deliberately slowly.

Somehow, I managed to keep the knife in place at his jugular as I gasped in the first few lungfulls of air. It felt like inhaling ice water, and I couldn't suppress my obvious reaction to the pain

"Your turn," he said, darkly.

I looked at the man before me and part of me wanted to do it any way. Few would have blamed me if I just cut him and had it over with. I could rid this city of one more mass-murdering crazy running around making peoples' lives here even worse than they already were... it was his knife, and my hand. I could be the instrument of his own destruction. If he hadn't taken me, he wouldn't have set things in motion. It would be like putting down a rabid dog - unpleasant but necessary. There was no rehabilitation for this, nothing could change the twisted wiring of his brain and he had done too much already.

But even if I ended him, the cat was well and truly out of the bag. He'd changed Gotham, forever. Even without him in the picture, there was no going back - back to the illusion of peace with the mob running the city. He was an entirely different beast, and others had followed in his wake. Criminals who didn't kill for money, who couldn't be controlled. What use was there in destroying pandora's box, if it had already been opened?

"Ohhhh, you are really thinking about it, it's tearing you up inside," he said, sounding altogether turned on by my unfolding moral crisis.

"Shut up!" I barked, pushing the blade harder against his flesh.

He put his arms up in surrender and began to laugh at me, which only enraged me further.

"You want to kill me," he said with satisfaction, as though he had drawn out some dark secret from within me.

"Just shut the fuck up," I pushed him up against the wall as he continued to laugh.

"Admit it," he whispered.

"Of course I want to fucking kill you, that isn't the problem! The problem is that I also don't want to kill you."

He stopped laughing, clearly caught off guard. I was crying now, I could feel the burning tears rolling down my cheeks. He frowned as I began to sob, completely breaking down.

Overcome by a fresh wave of anger, with my own growl of frustration, I withdrew the knife and punched him square in the face. Hard. As hard as I could. My knuckles stung immediately but his head flew backwards and a line of blood began to drip from his nose. For a moment I just stood over him as he slid down the wall dazed and confused. I knew he could take far more of a beating than that, and if he'd wanted to, he could have seriously fucked me up for the little stunt i'd just pulled... but he seemed to be more interested in watching me snap like an overstreched rubber band.

I hated myself for not having the conviction to do it. The problem with trying to connect with this madman so that he couldn't kill me, was that I had stared into the abyss, and it had stared back. Before he could do anything else, I grabbed the chair and dragged it into the bedroom.

I slammed the door behind me and propped it under the handle. I wasn't thinking straight and it hadn't occurred to me that I was still holding his knife in my shaking hand. Did I have stockholm syndrome to contend with as well now? As if this whole situation wasn't already messed up enough... Looking down and seeing the glinting blade, I was suddenly overcome with a feeling of revulsion and disgust, throwing it away from me. I heard it rattle against the wooden floorboards as it slid under the bed. As I picked up the dress to move it to the chair, the screwdriver I'd stashed there fell out and hit the floor as well. I put it in my pocket, not entirely sure why but too exhausted to question anything.

I climbed into the bed and curled into a ball, cradling my sore neck. I wanted to disappear... not die. I very much wanted not to die, but what life did I have to go back to? I cried silent tears. I felt like I was always waiting. Waiting for something to happen, to change my life. Now it had, but it was this.

As I began to drift into sleep, exhausted emotionally and physically, I thought I could hear him relentlessly pacing around the apartment and muttering to himself. For a moment, I entertained the idea that someone might come and rescue me. If not the cops then it would have to be the vigilante people called the batman. I wondered if i'd even made it onto his radar. Probably not. It had been days since i'd vanished.

Something caused me to stir in the deadest hours of the night. I had been having strange dreams, and was running from something, though I couldn't see the creature that was chasing me down. I was in some kind of old industrial complex, rusting and long-since abandoned, the rain was dripping down through the open holes in the collapsed sections of the roof high above. Trickling, splashing, dropping water falling all around me and pooling on the floor, feeding the plant life springing out of the cracks. Nature was reclaiming her territory. I paused for a moment, trying desperately to get a sense of direction, to find an escape. There was an ungodly screeching howl which echoed around the open space. I began to run away from the sound in blind panic. It didn't sound human. I woke up, confused, with a cold sweat beading my brow and gasping for air. I scrambled out of the bed, falling to the floor as my legs got caught up in the twisted sheets. In front of me was the knife where it had come to a stop under the bed.

Suddenly my ears pricked up. I could hear a kind of scratching sound coming from somewhere else in the apartment. In the murky inbetween place where reality met my subconscious, I thought I was still being pursued by the creature. I grabbed the knife and slowly tip toed to the door. As silently as I could I removed the chair and shakily turned the door knob.

As the door inched open I thought I could hear a person's voice and it wasn't one I recognised. Flattening myself against the wall just behind the doorway into the main living space, I strained my ears to try and pick out more sound. I began to realise that i'd had a nightmare and started to calm down when I heard the voice again. Something was wrong...

Link below for the other chapters:

[angstigone]

«keep up my game» you had muttered to aki before taking the plate of vegetable soup he had slaved onto, and bringing it to the table, where power was comfortably sat with meowy in her lap, waiting to be served.

it took aki a few minutes to realize your 'plan' as he noticed you lay down the plate of soup right in front of power; he thought that you had forgotten that - under no circumstances - power ate vegetables, but he was quick to understand that you remembered, you just had come up with a plan.

«you must have mistaken your rations with my own, dumb human» the pinkhaired fiend commented with her usual crassness, while you retained an almost seraphic serenity.

«no, power, it's your dinner» and stalling the fiend from throwing the plate, you were quick to add «... it's made of a special kind of meat».

power looked like she didn't believe you fully but the fact that she hadn't yet thrown you off was a sign of growth as both aki and denji stared at you from the safe haven of the kitchen counter.

«how dumb does she think power is?» denji simply said albeit he looked onto your efforts quite attentively.

«... is it?» power asked still diffidently but her hand released the plate, clearly not having - for the moment - the intention to throw the plate right in your face «it smells like veggies».

«it doesn't» you were quick to say, although not quick enough to seem suspicious «... it's... a special kind of meat. it does smell like veggie but it's wholly meat».

«meat of what?» power inquired definitely curious.

«duck!» you muttered taking a good luck at the color of the soup «can't you tell from the color? also... duck is a very... esteemed meat. we were lucky to grab some of it at the supermarket!».

that did it, strangely enough, as power's eyes filled with what looked like a deep sense of utter pride and getting up from the low table - almost sending her own plate flying - she declared raising her fist up in the air.

«ahhh, you finally recognized power's true value! and you are rewarding it accordingly!» she then sat down as fast as she had gotten up and pushed her spoon into the soup, with little to no protest at the taste much to denji's and aki's startlement.

they didn't utter anything, worried that power might catch onto and then that'd be a whole mess that neither wished to deal with; still, the pinkhaired fiend quickly finished her whole plate and sent you to get another one praising the taste and insisting that she could feel the blood of the hunted duck.

dinner, hence, fell into a utter bedazzlement as even the usual awkward small talk was avoided, till denji and power moved onto their nightly routine while you and aki went to clean up the dishes.

«how... how did you come up with?» he asked promptly as soon as he regained his ability talk just to make you lightly chuckle.

«I have been observing power and I did realize that she has been lying, most often choosing which foods she might like or not, so I thought that she wouldn't be able to recognize which type of food is which» you explained and aki couldn't help but think that you had put too much thought into this, especially considering that the fiend's health didn't depend onto healthy human habits «... although in all truth, it was something that my mom said about how she convinced me to eat spinach by telling me it was mint ice cream».

«please tell me that you didn't fall into that as power» aki pleaded with a laugh at your offended look.

«I absolutely didn't! I clocked it out at the first taste and required some mint ice cream as compensations» you shot back promptly before joining aki's laugh as well «... still, I thought that it might be easier with soup and meat, especially with the little I gathered... mmh, wonder whether I can use it for something else...».

«we could brainstorm later» aki joked as you took him seriously before realization settled into you «... oh, c'mon, I do have to admit it was ingenious, alright?».

«you don't apprecciate me enough, hayakawa» you turned your back to him, crossing your arms over your chest, obviously pouting your fake displeasure. aki couldn't help but huff, although his heart filled with tenderness and endearment.

there was something downright domestic about the way you bickered with him. with how you cared about denji and power as if they were humans. as if they were your children.

the thought startled aki, as he gently went to hug you from behind, if not to truly ease you to ease his swifly moving mind which pictured a whole other scenario: you were still pouty, with swollen ankles and an heavy belly, blaming him for something that hormones made you feel.

"it's alright, just a few more months, sweetheart" he'd say instead of apologizing for not seeing your brilliant genius.

«you better apprecciate me!».

«I do, sweetling» he said softly, gently kissing the back of your head, as he tried to shun away the thought of you acting this way with children, your children.

you had always agreed that you were better off without children in your professions, neither wanting to leave behind any orphans.

still, it was tickling aki at how well you handled the manchildren that you had been tasked with; it wasn't just forcing them into good habits. it was the way you genuinely cared for those two even though you shouldn't have because they were liabilities.

«mmh, I don't know if I am convinced» but you were smiling, even turned aki can tell yo were smiling and suddenly he thought for a moment of a life where it's your children that you trick into eating vegetables and it brought some pricky feelings to his eyes, not that he'd define them as tears.

no, this isn't a life that he can have.

even with you.

so, he'll have to make this one last.

[hedghost]

alessia russo | white lies

five secrets alessia could keep (and one she just couldn’t)

first-time post from a long-time lurker. i absolutely did not intend it to be this long, so i apologise, but i wanted to do the idea justice! feel free to give me thoughts or requests :)

word count: 6.6k

one

famously, alessia could have her blonde moments. the occasional blank stare when she missed the tail end of a question, a furrowed brow as the punchline of a joke flew over her head.

honestly it didn’t bother her; so what if people thought she was slow? she knew her own intelligence. certainly, on the pitch, it was evident that she wasn’t stupid. she could be funny, she knew things, she spoke well, and she always made sure to think before she spoke. although that was less about seeming measured, and more because, if there was one thing alessia did know, it was the value of a secret.

after a few years in the spotlight, alessia had learned the hard way that there were certain things that were just better left under wraps. some things the media or the fans shouldn’t know, and some things best kept between friends. she kept a long mental list of secrets for different people, collecting them, and keeping them clutched to her chest. alessia took a small pride in knowing she was the one people went to, the one person they could trust with their darkest secrets.

alessia mused over her list as she drove to the stadium before the next match. mentally laying each secret out in front of her like a prized collection, dusting them off, and storing them back inside. the first she knew would be brought up again today, knew it would take her usual efforts to make sure it remained a secret.

walking into the changing room, alessia only narrowly dodged a flying shinpad that went clattering into the doorframe. alessia’s quick reactions only really served to cause her to lose her footing, just to be caught by your steady hands.

“oops, sorry less! i was aiming for tooney,” you smiled sheepishly, your hands still firm around her waist. alessia swallowed.

“idiots,” she laughed. you let go and stalked over to grab the wayward shinpad. this time, your throw found it’s mark, hitting ella squarely in the forehead and causing the changing room to erupt into laughter.

this was no real deviation from the team’s usual pregame ritual. typically, you and ella, ever the jokers, would engage in some play-fight of slapstick-esque proportions, entertaining the team while they all got ready. this of course meant you two then had to scramble to get changed as the rest of the girls walked out onto the pitch. alessia, who was never really found without at least one of her two best friends, would wait behind with you as you tied your boots.

you always had a lot of nervous energy before games, and ella’s constant faffing and time wasting as she collected her boots, tied her hair up for the billionth time, checked her mascara etc., would, without fail, mean you’d end up leaving the two of them behind, only for them to jog out and join you with seconds. this was the ritual, and alessia liked it.

“fucking hell, ella stop fannying about!” you whined.

ella, as always, was the last to put her boots on. she was combing back flyaways in the mirror, in just her socks. you and alessia watched on, fully kitted out by now. alessia leant back against the door and smiled as she watched you try to hurry ella on. she'd been through this many times before.

alessia knew the routine. she knew you would leave in a second, and she knew ella would stop dithering immediately after you did. and then, as always, she would tie ella’s bootlaces for her, and they would catch you up.

this was the big secret. alessia, to be honest, didn’t see the big deal, but ella was insistent that no one could ever find out, not even you. and as silly as alessia thought it was, and as much as she hated not telling you things, this was her duty as secret keeper and she did it diligently.

it had started years ago, long before you had arrived and turned the duo into a trio. ella had been in a state before an away match, refusing to tell anyone what had her fretting so much. alessia had taken her to the side, and it had slipped out; she didn’t know how to tie her own laces. her dad had always been at games, always tied them tight as a last good luck measure. in a flash, alessia had knelt at ella’s feet, tying the boots without saying a word. then she’d taken ella’s hand, and pretended not to see her swipe at tears as they walked onto the pitch together.

ella had found her before the next game, shyly asking her to repeat the action. alessia had done it without question, and just like that, it became their thing.

alessia had tried, of course, countless times to teach ella how to do it herself, but she suspected at some point it had become more superstition that anything. alessia had tied ella's boots once, and she’d played well, so now alessia would tie her boots forever. even now that many players preferred to play with laceless boots, ella never wavered. she said she just preferred the look, but alessia (and only alessia) knew the truth.

alessia watched on as you got increasingly impatient with ella. she smirked as you rolled your eyes once again.

"come on ella, if we leave now you might be in time for the second half,"

alessia had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. you were cute when you were frustrated. ella ignored you, still checking her reflection in the mirror, completely unfazed.

as annoying as ella was being, you felt bad that alessia was always the one to stay and deal with ella's antics. you were determined to remain, if only to give alessia moral support. little did you know that meant it was you who was holding up proceedings.

alessia, however, had been through this many times before and was practiced in the art of secret-keeping, and therefore distraction. she had a few tactics up her sleeve yet.

she looked over to where you leant against the doorframe, and flashed you her sweetest smile.

"y/n? i think i left my gatorade in the shower room, could you go grab it for me?"

as always, those eyes made you putty in her hands, and you pushed yourself off from the wall to go and look. as soon as you turned your back, alessia was knelt at ella's feet, her nimble fingers moving with practiced ease as they followed the path they'd traced countless times before. she was standing again by the time you returned.

"there's no gatorade in there less, are you sure its not in here?"

she flashed you a sheepish smile, putting on her best ditzy blonde impression, "oops, its right here! sorry y/n,"

you shrugged in response. before you could tell her not to worry, ella cut you off. she had moved to walk out the door, yelling over her shoulder as she did so,

"come on, what are you waiting for?"

you watched after her in exasperated incredulity as she exited the room. alessia laughed brightly at your expression, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you out to the field with her. ella's secret was safe for another day.

two

you and alessia settled in next to each other as you took your seats on the plane for the lionesses' next away game. the two of you had been thick as thieves for years, and you couldn’t deny that the thought of having alessia nearby had been a deciding factor in your recent transfer move. still, you treasured each quiet moment you spent in each other's company, as you had for years.

you and alessia hadn’t always been close. you’d known each other through the youth age groups of course, but your relationship only really went from acquaintances to close friends around the age of sixteen. sure, you loved your teammates and got on well with all of them, but you were a fairly shy teenager, keeping them at all at arms length, and often finding yourself only hanging around the edge of conversations.

alessia was a nostalgic person, and liked to reminisce often about the circumstances that had led to your close relationship.

when you were younger, seeing as how you typically kept to yourself, it was usually easy for you to sink into the background. although sometimes this was a point of insecurity, you relished the chance for solitude whenever it came to flights. you’d always been a particularly anxious flyer, and you appreciated that you could usually nab a seat at the back to yourself, allowing you to hide your panic.

usually you got away with it. usually, you could find a pair of seats to yourself, deal with the panic quietly and alone, saving yourself from embarrassment.

of course, at some point, your luck ran out.

“hey! mind if i sit here?” came a familiar voice. you looked up in surprise, but you knew whose bright blue eyes would be looking down at you well before your gaze found them. alessia gave you little time to respond before settling herself into the seat next to you with a sweet smile. you had no time to concoct some lame excuse. you could only nod, and accept your fate.

of course it was her. of course, out of anyone, it was the person who would be the sweetest about it, the most understanding. how embarrassing.

alessia didn’t seem to notice your internal panic, instead sweeping you up immediately into conversation. and for a while, it worked to distract you. you barely noticed take off, didn’t even flinch as your stomach dropped and ears popped, too enraptured in alessia’s bright conversation.

that is, until the first bout of turbulence. the plane rocked, and you stopped mid-sentence. mentally gathering yourself, you tried to calm down, managing to carry on as though nothing had happened. alessia didn’t seem to notice your plight. you’d got away with it. then the plane dropped again.

this time, alessia was quick to notice the way your breath caught, the way your arms held tight to the arm rests, the white knuckle grip you had on them. you vaguely heard her say something, but you couldn’t focus on her voice enough to comprehend. all you could do was try to regulate your breathing, stave off the panic long enough to preserve your dignity.

a gentle touch on your arm brought you back to reality, “y/n? are you okay?”

you tried to speak, to respond, but you couldn’t muster the words. you shut your eyes tight, trying to turn away from alessia.

“hey, hey,” she soothed, her hand over yours, “it’s okay, we’re safe, everything’s okay,”

you wanted to pretend it was all fine, but you were too far gone. you buried your head in your hands, tried to focus on alessia whispering to you to ‘breathe, just breathe’.

you don’t know how long you sat like that, her guiding you through blind panic with soft touches and gentle words. at some point, your hand found hers, and you clutched it like a lifeline as the plane rode out its last bits of turbulence.

eventually, your breathing returned to relative normal. you hesitated to look up and meet alessia’s eyes, instead burning holes into your clasped hands. you noted her perfectly done manicure, how the light caught each painted nail, how the soft skin of her fingertips felt caressing your calloused palms.

“you okay y/n?”

finally you tore your gaze away from her hands, only to be met with her eyes. you’d never noticed how strikingly blue they were. you nodded, swallowing harshly. you were sure she’d be able to feel your pulse rising in your joined hands, praying she’d chalk it up to your panicked episode, not something completely different.

“not a big fan of flying then?” she prompted.

“no, not exactly,” you laughed, mouth dry. as much as you hated to admit it, alessia’s presence had definitely calmed you. you were barely conscious of the fact you were still thousands of feet in the air.

“that’s okay, i’ll distract you,” you hoped you weren’t blushing . if only she knew, you thought, but alessia had already plowed on, chatting about god knows what to distract you.

she kept it up until you landed. as she stood up to exit the plane, she squeezed your hand and offered a small smile. she went to pull away, but you pulled her hand back,

“could you please not tell anyone about this?”

“course not,” she smiled “our secret.”

then she’d strolled off the plane as though she hadn’t just changed the course of your life.

from then on, alessia always managed to slip away from her other friends and wind up in the seat next to you. it had become a steady constant in your routines. you'd never had a bad flight since, and true to her word, alessia had never told a soul.

three

the perks of england camps were numerous. from the training, to the facilities, the matches, even the food, alessia enjoyed it all. arguably the best thing of all though, was the ample opportunities for downtime with the team.

alessia was nestled in between you and maya on a sofa, only half listening to leah and keira regale some embarrassing tale about georgia, involving a bad date and what sounded like a lot of alcohol. georgia was burying her head in her hands as the rest of the team dissolved into fits of giggles at the story. alessia laughed along, dropping her head to your shoulder as the conversation moved onto other player's poor tastes in partners and shitty date experiences.

"okay wait! lets all go around the circle and say our most embarrassing crushes!" alessia felt your shoulder stiffen underneath her at beth's suggestion, and she knew exactly why.

alessia herself had only found out by accident, stumbling in on you crying out the aftermath in the bathroom. she'd held you as you calmed down, before you made her swear not tell anyone.

the night had started out well enough. you both were at an 18th birthday party for one of your england teammates. you'd joked around with all the other girls, dancing and singing, and drinking probably a little too much. the alcohol would end up being a bad idea, especially for you.

the girl who's birthday it was had an older sister in her early twenties. aged 17 and a bit, you were absolutely infatuated with her. you'd met her a few times before at games and training, she was cool and collected, and you were obsessed. the fact she would be in attendance at the party had definitely been a factor in your outfit choices, and probably in the amount of alcohol you had downed with alessia and ella at pres.

the whole night long, you were hyper aware of her presence in the room. too shy to ever make a move, you stuck to longing glances and daydreamed fantasies.

your downfall was soon to come though, when one of the older girls suggested an innocent game of spin the bottle. most of you were well past tipsy at this point, and so you all agreed readily. you laughed as your teammates kissed each other one by one; the messy, inexperienced kind of kisses only drunk teenagers could perfect. soon enough it was your friend's sister's turn, and you couldn't help the prayers you mentally uttered.

you would decide later that whoever answered those prayers had a sick sense of humour. the bottle landed on you. you leant forward, trying to contain your excitement. it was only a peck, but to you it was fate and poetry rolled into one. the game continued on, but all you could think about was the feel of her lips against yours. soon, the game faded into non-existence, as people began to get distracted and get up to refill drinks or amuse themselves elsewhere. you saw your crush slip out into the garden, and instilled with misplaced confidence from the peck, you saw your opening.

stepping into the cool air, you were relieved to see she was alone. you approached, placing a shaking hand onto her arm.

"oh hey-" you cut her off, pressing your lips against hers. it barely lasted a moment, before she pushed you off, nothing short of disgust on her face.

"woah there! i'm not a fucking lesbian!" she turned on her heel and stalked back inside, only stopping to utter one last crushing remark, "and i don't kiss kids!"

to your teenage self, it was an earth-shattering rejection. you managed to make it to an empty bathroom before you broke down. your ears rang with her comments as your cursed your own stupidity. in your rush to be alone, you'd forgotten to lock the door, and you jumped when gentle hands wrapped you up into a hug.

alessia had been watching you all night. she'd seen the glances you cast over at your friend's sister, before she lost sight of you after the ill-fated game. that was until she saw you duck into a bathroom, cheeks red and head bowed. she'd followed in a heartbeat.

alessia's heart ached for you as you sobbed into her shoulder. the sting of rejection had worn off, leaving space only for pure embarrassment.

"i'm such a fucking idiot," you mumbled into her shoulder when the tears had stopped.

alessia pressed her lips to your hair, "no you aren't, don't be silly," she knew the pain of unrequited crushes all too well. she knew the way they consumed you, blinded you to sense. "shh, it'll be okay," she murmured, "don't cry, its okay,"

"oh god, i bet she's already told everyone how weird and gross i am. i can never show my face again,"

alessia laughed at your dramatics, "shall we go home?" she said, and you nodded wearily, "let's go,"

as it turned out, the girl hadn't told anyone, and you'd been in the clear. the secret stayed between you and alessia, the single witness to your most embarrassing night.

alessia knew you didn't want anyone to know about that, even now, six years later. she also knew you well enough to know that instead of coming up with an alternate answer to beth's question, you were likely frozen, reliving your embarrassment. she had to think fast to preserve your secret. everyone laughed as rach shamelessly announced her childhood crush on some celebrity she'd never heard of, and then everyone turned to you expectantly. alessia cleared her throat.

"pretty sure y/n used to fancy that woman off countdown," she lied, and the room erupted into laughter once again. thankful for lessi's quick save, you groaned and buried your head in your hands, going along with her white lie. crisis averted. alessia carried on, giving her own fake answer about a boy from school. a practiced lie. once the group's attention had passed on from the two of you, she felt you grab her hand. you squeezed her fingers in thanks, and she squeezed back. she was getting good at this lying business. anything for you, and your secrets.

four

alessia was widely regarded as an excellent friend; someone who could be depended on, completely and utterly trusted without question. alessia knew this, and held such compliments with high regard. she had long ago cemented her place as someone to be trusted within her circle, and therefore concentrated her efforts in keeping that reputation. she knew her friends just thought she was a good secret keeper because it was in her nature, that she was just a good person through and through.

alessia herself knew however, that the reason she placed such strong value on other people’s secrets was because she had been keeping one of her own for far, far longer than she had kept any of theirs.

it had first become apparent as a teenager. as she listened to her friends fawn over their latest male obsession, or regale their recent kisses with boys at parties, or debate who the hottest boy in class was. she tried her best to engage, to get involved, but with every boy who came close to kissing her, she was finding it harder and harder to force interest. eventually, she came to realise the way she felt about certain teammates, the way she'd avert her eyes in the changing room, the way her gaze followed pretty girls in the hallway, wasn't the norm. the realisation had hit her like a truck. alessia russo was gay, and she had no clue what to do about it.

she kept the feelings buried for a while. she faked attachments to boys, tried kissing a few just to throw her friends off the scent, before eventually she stopped bothering. she said she was too busy with football to date, and that remained her excuse. that didn't stop her falling head over heels for multiple girls over the years, didn't stop her heart fluttering whenever certain people looked her way. a certain someone.

eventually, especially playing women's football, a lot of her friends started to come out. alessia knew she could've done the same, knew she'd be met with no judgement, but it was as though there was a mental block stopping her. as outgoing as she was, she didn't enjoy opening herself up. and so, never one to wear her heart on her sleeve, she guarded the secret closely. months turned into years, and it became just something she did. she was too far gone to announce it now.

she knew she'd tell people at some point in her life, but why bother when there was no girl on her arm to show off?

and it wasn't like she hadn't come close. especially to you, who had been open about your sexuality for years. alessia couldn't count how many times she'd opened her mouth to tell you, only for the words to catch in her throat. it was almost as though she'd left it too late now, built it up in her head, and the moment just never seemed right.

she'd been with girls before of course. in dark corners at clubs where no one would see, fumbled kisses with strangers in bathrooms. but never anything deep, never the connection she ached for.

alessia listened as you complained to her about your recent date with the latest girl. 'a complete dead end', you described it, 'like talking to a brick wall,' you laid your head across her lap and shut your eyes.

"god, i wish the girls i dated were more like you less. then i'd actually have something to talk about with them," alessia swallowed, her fingers working their way through your hair. god, if only you knew.

five

being gay wasn't the only secret alessia held close to her chest. there was another, far worse, far more guarded. the secret that kept her awake at night, that spiked guilt deep in her stomach whenever you smiled at her. painful memories of that fateful night, which she wished more than anything you would remember.

it happened at the celebration party last summer. the lionesses had been victorious at the euros, and euphoria was running rampant amongst the whole team. everywhere you looked, people were drunk off elation. the drinks had started flowing in the changing rooms, and they had kept coming ever since.

the constant flow of people meant you and alessia had only spent passing moments together. every time you seemed to find each other in the crowd, someone new would turn up and pull one of you away, with ecstatic congratulations, or the promise of a drink.

in a brief break from dancing, alessia found herself sat at the bar with ella and a few others. she sipped her drink as the others chatted excitedly. recently, she'd been finding that her eyes sought you out unconsciously. more and more, she'd been realising that wherever you were in a room, she'd notice. tonight was no different. her gaze finally landed on you, carefree and dancing amongst a crowd of people.

usually, she had the sense to not stare for too long, but with her inhibitions hindered by the drinks, and her mood high off the back of the win, she allowed herself a moment of grace. the soft smile that crept onto her face as she looked longingly after you was unbidden, but she didn't care to look away. alessia was sure that if anyone followed her eyeline she'd be found out, but everyone was too wrapped up in their own elation to bother.

across the crowd, your eyes met hers. you grinned widely, before freeing yourself from the crowd just long enough to grab her hand and pull her onto the dance floor. emboldened by the alcohol, she let herself dance a little closer than she usually would, let the touches linger a little longer.

neither of you knew how long you danced, just riding the wave of the win for as long you could. alessia could tell you were equally as drunk as she was, if not more. eventually, you leaned closer to be heard over the music,

"come with me to get some air?" alessia could only nod, hyper aware of your breath on her cheek. she let herself be led away by you, into the cool summer air.

you all but collapsed onto a bench, laughing as you clumsily pulled alessia down with you. you leant into alessia, her arm finding its familiar place around your shoulders as you let the comfortable silence descend. it was the early hours of the morning by now. alessia could hear the thump of music and shouts of people from inside, but out here, you were completely alone. despite her lack of sobriety, she was hyper aware of the way your body felt against hers.

"what a night hey," you laughed, and she nodded. "we fucking did it less!"

"champions of europe baby!" you yelled into the night, making alessia laugh and slap your arm.

you smiled, leaning back into alessia, "proud of you lessi" you whispered. when she didn't respond, you shifted to look at her.

"i'm serious less. i'm so proud of you. proud of us."

alessia couldn't find the words to respond. she could only think about how close your face was to hers. you smiled softly, and she smiled back. her eyes never left yours. you seemed to be breathing in sync. it was now or never. the alcohol spurring her on, alessia began to speak,

"y/n, i-"

she was cut off by you leaning in to close the gap. her eyes fluttered shut as your lips grazed hers, and she melted into the kiss. you pulled back to assess her reaction, but alessia barely gave you a second to breathe before she kissed you again. alessia poured all the years of pining, every pent up emotion into that kiss, and you gave her everything and more back. her brain short-circuited as your hand went to caress her cheek, her own hands fumbling clumsily to wrap around your waist.

at some point, one of you broke away. you pressed your forehead to hers, "we should probably get back to the party," alessia nodded. she was caught in a haze of euphoria. she would've done anything you asked in that moment; would've chased you to the moon and back. you smiled, before pressing your lips to her forehead and pulling her to her feet.

alessia would've liked to stay attached to your hip all night, but as soon as you re-entered the party you were both swept away by your respective friends, and she was left staring after you. the rest of the night was a blur, but alessia had truly never been happier.

alessia woke the next morning to the memory of your lips against hers. her head pounded with the hangover as she dragged herself out of bed and over to your room next door. it was customary for the two of you to end up in each others rooms after a heavy night to discuss the events and ride out the hangover together, but today, her heart pounded as she knocked on your door. she wasn't sure what the events of last night meant for your friendship, but she was running through various speeches and declarations as she waited.

eventually you cracked the door open, peering out at alessia with bleary eyes. "morning," you whispered with a smile, opening the door fully for alessia before collapsing back into your bed.

alessia followed you in, mouth dry and heart pounding as she perched next to you on the bed. she decided to let you take the lead with the conversation, though she ached to bring up the kiss.

"god, what even happened last night," you moaned from the covers, "i don't remember a thing,"

alessia's heart dropped to her stomach. "you don't remember anything?" she asked. you looked up at her curiously.

"i mean, i remember dancing, and then, literally nothing," your eyes widened, "oh god, did i do something embarrassing? lessi, please say i didn't."

alessia forced a smile onto her face, forced herself to push down the emotions coursing through her veins, "no, you didn't do anything," she forced herself to settle further into your bed.

"nothing at all,"

plus one she couldn't

after the euros, and the ensuing heartache, alessia had tried to distance herself from you. she'd lasted all of a week of subdued contact before you'd pulled her back in again. she couldn't resist you or your company, utterly powerless to do anything but come running back to your side like a lost puppy. you didn't even have time to notice something was up.

and so alessia settled back into your orbit, and tried unsuccessfully to get over you. despite how you'd acted that night, you once again gave her no indication of seeing her as anything more than a best friend, and so she tried her best to see you the same. she longed to bring up the kiss, to do anything to remind you, but your clear lack of memory told her that it hadn't meant anything to you.

playing together for club and country, you spent nearly all your days together. alessia spent each of those days in silent turmoil. her heart would pound with each innocent touch, her brain would malfunction every time you flashed her a smile. only at night, in the quiet of her room, would she allow herself to feel. she'd stare at the ceiling into the early hours of the morning, replaying each encounter, eyes glistening with unshed tears. she envied you for not remembering the kiss. god how she wished she could forget it. it replayed behind her eyelids every time she blinked: she felt the brush of your lips against hers every time she glanced down at your mouth as you spoke.

since it became apparent that it couldn't have meant anything to you, she'd done her best to get over you. but now that she'd experienced it, she could never go back. her love for you had swelled to the point of utter consumption, and she couldn't even begin to remember what it felt like to see you only as a friend.

being as experienced in the art of secret keeping as she was, she'd managed to keep you in the dark, but it was getting harder and harder to act like everything was okay. whilst you remained clueless to her plight, other people were starting to notice.

alessia was finally caught out after a particularly bad day. training had been rough, the weather was awful, and the stress and emotion of it all was starting to become too much for her. her heart ached for you every time you laughed. every time you called her name it was like a stab to the chest. she winced as she felt the beginnings of a headache, desperate to leave the training ground and crawl into bed as soon as she could.

noticing something was wrong, you'd rubbed her back and pulled her in for a hug.

"you okay less? headache?" you'd murmured, trying to meet her eyes. normally she revelled in how well you could read her, but right now, she hated it. she could only nod in response. you reached a gentle hand up to touch her forehead, "are you coming down with something?"

alessia wanted so badly to relax into your familiar embrace and sink into the comfort she craved, but she pulled away, ignoring your question and mumbling a lame excuse about getting home, before speeding to her car.

hearing someone chase after her, she steeled herself to face you again. instead, when she turned, she was met with ella.

"lessi, what's wrong?"

"nothing, ella, it's just been a long day," she sighed. she turned to get into her car, but ella blocked her path.

"don't bullshit me lessi, i know you. you think i haven't noticed how weird you've been acting lately?"

the confrontation was too much. alessia could feel tears begin to prick at the corner of her eyes, and she knew there was no escaping it.

"not here," she mumbled, opening the car door and motioning ella to get into the other side. she barely gave ella time to sit down before she drove off, only making it to the end of the road before the tears started flowing. she pulled over and buried her head in her hands.

ella didn't seem to know what to do, clearly she hadn't expected alessia to do this. her shock was only momentary though, and her hand reached out to stroke alessia's back.

"hey, hey, its okay, less, its okay. talk to me,"

alessia could only shake her head against her hands.

"i can't do this anymore ella, i just can't,"

ella just rubbed her arm, clueless to what she was talking about. in ella's presence, she let her facade fall apart a little.

"it's so stupid, i'm so stupid."

"is this about y/n?"

alessia whipped her head up to look at ella, who smiled wryly.

"you aren't very good at hiding it less,"

"fuck, i just-" she pressed her head into her hands again. "it's so embarrassing. i just don't know what to do. i can't keep doing this, it just- it hurts,"

"i think you need to tell her,"

"that's the worst possible solution to this ella,"

ella smiled again and raised an eyebrow, "i wouldn't be so sure,"

"you're an idiot, and your advice is awful," alessia muttered. she breathed deeply, collecting herself, before starting the car again, "i'm dropping you home, and we're forgetting this conversation ever happened,"

"whatever you say, less," said ella, smirking as she leant back in her seat, "whatever you say,"

despite her best efforts, the conversation with ella stuck in alessia's mind all week. even you were starting to notice how distracted she was being, and you brought it up one night, as you lay sprawled in your usual position on her sofa.

"have you been avoiding me lessi?" you joked, but alessia caught the flash of doubt in your eyes. she mentally cursed herself, once for not hiding it well enough, and then again for making you feel guilty about it. she decided she could only attempt to laugh it off.

"what are you talking about? we've literally been together all day."

"no, yeah i know, but you just seem, i don't know, distracted? closed off," alessia felt your head turn to look up at her, but she kept her own gaze firmly planted on the tv screen.

"i'm fine. just tired. its been a long week," she knew as soon as she said it that you'd see right through the flimsy excuses.

"well okay, but, you know you can always talk to me, yeah? if there was something bothering you?" your voice trailed off. alessia swallowed harshly. when she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

"i can't,"

at this, your full attention was on her, the tv long forgotten. alessia felt sick at her own barely there confession.

"lessi, come on. you can tell me anything. i'm your best friend,"

that was the last straw. best friend, she reminded herself. any hope alessia still had of preserving her dignity flew out the window, and she had to press her lips together to keep from crumbling. you saw her falter, and you sat up in a heartbeat, your hands taking hers. alessia tried to pull away, but the grip you had on her was magnetic.

"y/n, i-" she bit her lip, shaking her head and looking away. if she spoke she'd say something she'd regret. the confession was on the tip of her tongue, just begging to be let out. alessia resolved herself, mentally replaced the confession with another white lie. but then she looked up, and her eyes met yours. god, those eyes. alessia was taken back to the night of the kiss, when she'd been enraptured in those same eyes; when she'd looked into them to find the brazen reflection of her own adoration.

it was all she could do to look away. she felt her mouth move, heard her own voice as though from a distance, speaking completely unbidden.

"i'm in love with you,"

they were the truest words she'd ever uttered, but god how she wished she could take them back. her brain raced with excuses, but she could only whisper disconnected thoughts and jumbled apologies. she regained just enough control over her words, but the damage was done.

"i know you don't feel the same - i'm sorry - i didn't want to make it weird - i'm sorry - please don't let this ruin us - i'm sorry."

alessia didn't dare look at you; your silence was indication enough. however, as always, alessia could never stay away from you for too long. as she braved one glance up, her words fell away from her.

you stared back at her, looking at her as though she'd hung the moon and all the stars.

"alessia," you whispered her name like a prayer on your tongue, "you have no idea how long i've wanted to hear you say that,"

years of pining, of heartache, of sleepless nights and longing glances, had not prepared alessia for this outcome. she stared at you, frozen in shock. all the fight, all the panic, had abandoned her, and she could only stare.

you leaned in, and she let herself fall into the kiss. she'd thought nothing could've been better than the first, but my god was she wrong. with one touch, you silenced all her doubts. you poured out the answer to every question she had. the two of you curled impossibly closer into each other, until alessia wasn't sure how you could've ever been separate.

you smiled against her lips, eyes blissfully remaining shut.

"why didn't you tell me sooner?"

alessia shrugged shyly, "it was a secret," you pulled away fully, eyes searching deep into hers.

"not anymore," you said, and alessia flashed a bright smile. your heart flipped at the sight.

"no," she murmured, "never again."

thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed :)

[arkus-rhapsode]

So wasn't expecting to make this Gaming Hot Take of the day but after reading this from Sony CFO Hiroki Totoki I gotta be honest I had to write something

So look, I can kinda understand this stance in a very retrospective sense as he says "Fostered from the beginning." Playstation 1 in particular didn't really make a big distinction between its original IP and its Third Party IP. It's why you had Crash Bandicoot or Cloud Strife as basically the mascot of Playstation when both come from third parties. Compared to the likes of Mario and Sonic who were not only their console mascot, but company mascots respectively.

But by now, Playstation has an undeniable back catalogue of first and second IP that it can either revive or rerelease if need be. Like if we're looking at like multi entry series and not just one offs, by the PS2, Sony had:

Jak & Daxter

Twisted Metal

Ape Escape

Sly Cooper

MediEvil

Wild Arms

Dark Cloud

Everybody's Golf

God of War

Rachet and Clank

And by the PS3 we have

Infamous

Uncharted

Killzone

Resistance

Little Big Planet

Like Sony has their own catalogue that can stand on its own. Its not like they should be struggling now to play catch up.

Now if you read my recent Emio and Mages post, I am very well aware that in the age of modern gaming, a game doesn't get made without a team devoted to it. And with the rising production and time costs of making games, no company can release a hundred games and be profitable. So sadly some IP just do fall by the wayside in favor of others. Guerrilla Games isn't making Killzone anymore, because their efforts are spent on Horizon and Sucker Punch went from being the Sly Cooper guys to the Infamous guys, to now the Ghosts of Tsushima guys.

However, I feel like Sony has had some circumstances that compound this problem. Sony and Playstation are technically powerful machines-they want to fully utilize the hardware they're selling you for hundreds of dollars. It is their brand. However, the downside to this is because of this the rise in production costs, it's now taking much longer to make games that make use of the powerful hardware. We went from being able to release a full trilogy in a single generation to basically one. Its also made worse by the fact that Sony has been very active in shuttering studios and cutting costs. The biggest would be the loss of Sony Japan Studio, who were beloved for their more varied Japanese-y style games. It added flavor to the more Naughty Dog inspired games of the sixth and seventh generation. But now, Sony went all in on being that one big budget release that leaned more towards broader genres that could maximize the amount of sales like Uncharted, The Last of Us, Spider-Man, etc.

With this, a lot of mismanagement, its really made the PS5 era feel very sparse compared to the PS4. Now, I wanna stress this, I actually do not subscribe to the mentality "Playstation has no games." Playstation has tons of games beyond just their first party titles, some are exclusive like Final Fantasy 16, some are just way too powerful to be something that could be played on a switch like GTAV. Heck, I played Bomb Rush Cyberfunk on my PS5 and it's probably the game I've dumped the most time into this year. So yes, even if Playstation's first party offerings are few and far between, you're still capable of playing a lot of good games on this really expensive plastic box.

And maybe that's indicative of the fact that Playstation has always been about selling you the hardware on the basis of the hardware. Going back to the PS1, the main selling points was this was the haven for third parties after Nintendo really burned a lot of developers with the N64, and that this was a much more system than the N64. When you look at someone like Nintendo now, they're hardware is underpowered they live and die by the power of their software that only they can provide and no one else. But the playstation even if its not shooting out a new Jax & Daxter every year, they're still the place you can play something like Final Fantasy or Elden Ring at a really great clip. Perhaps Totoki was alluding to that reliance on hardware instead of software because in retrospect, they never really had that big homegrown system seller on playstation till the PS2 with things like God of War. And now fostering that, has made it hard to have that sort of Zelda or Halo that are so undeniably their companies IP and will move launch units.

But a reliance on just being the place where you can play games at a high fidelity, means that its still got competition from Xbox and PC. So Sony would have to offer a service the others don't and that can be software you find nowhere else. True story, I was genuinely conflicted about getting a PS5 or and Xbox X/S for my birthday because I knew I needed to at least have a strong machine to play with my switch. And ultimately I took PS5 because that was the console that would have God of War Ragnarok and Spider-Man 2. So yes, IP absolutely factors into purchases in my experience. And the fact that this generation Sony has really struggled to put out first party games, really makes that purchase factor feel so much thinner and thinner. When you know-you know Sony has loads of IP (Some that haven't left their respective console) that even a simple remaster on the PS5 could at least hold people over in-between their AAA releases. So to hear their CFO say that they don't have enough IP, gets very disingenuous.

To close this out, I wanna stress something. I don't think wanting to make new IP is a bad thing. Im glad Sony is willing to invest 8 years and millions of dollars into something new. But eventually, we reach a point where this has to be better managed. We have to have some smaller titles that can be released between the bigger ones. We gotta have some variation in the types of games we're getting from the platform holder. And sometimes leaning in on those fan faves for smaller titles would help. Are they gonna sell 10 million units? More than likely not. But if you balance the budget, having something move between 1-2 million units would be acceptable. Perhaps maybe allow more second party developers a crack at using that IP so your internal teams can work on the bigger blockbuster titles?

The PS5 generation has been a pretty all over the map one for Sony, and the more we learn about the thoughts and management behind the scenes, the more aggravating it can become when this platform does something really cool, but then seems to take two steps back. I genuinely can't tell you if I'll get a PS6. But if I do, it will probably not be out of optimism for classic Playstation franchises to return.

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Ruesha Littlejohn x Reader

You Ruined Love for Me

Part of the Beth McCarthy mini song series

If You Loved Me Right

If you didn't lie to me

Tell me you'd die for me

Break every promise

If you were honest

I wouldn't be crazy

If you didn't call me names

If you didn't try to change

Every part of me

Every part of me you hate, I

Know that if you loved me right

I wouldn't be crazy

On the plane to Australia you were catching up with the latest Ruetube, they always make you laugh and couldn’t wait to see if you had made this week’s cut. Midway through, you could tell your bestie wasn’t her usual happy and crazy self; she seemed distant and the sparkle in her eyes had faded. Always the light of the party and the clown of the locker room Ruesha had the power to make anyone belly laugh their way into next week. You could be having the worst day of your life but could guarantee Rue would change that with a single sentence. You never had to tell her you were having a bad day, she could always just sense it and would do everything she could to try and cheer you up. She was everyone’s pick-me-up and none of you had noticed how sad she truly was lately. She’d been painting on a brave face every day of training but the camera doesn’t lie - the despair in her eyes was undeniable. That’s why watching her online made you feel so guilty, you knew she was going through a tough time with the break up and being released from Villa but missed the sadness behind the mask she paints on every single day.

Looking behind to spot Rue a few rows back as she made her way through the aisle pretending to be an air hostess, singing Busted as she went, most would be fooled to think she was truly happy. You knew how much she had been worrying that she wouldn’t make the squad. You knew her break up with Katie was messy and that she didn’t get a choice about leaving Villa. Everything she’d known for years had gone. Disappeared. Her life had been turned upside down and you just hadn’t noticed how much it had taken a toll on her until you watched it back on the laptop. She may be laughing and joking behind you but it’s all pretend.

“Oh hello madam, may I offer you a refreshing beverage?” Rue tapped on your shoulder sounding exactly like Mrs Doubtfire. Entertaining her efforts as she served your drink but ignored Katie who was in the row opposite - you can hardly blame her! Everything had come at such a shit time for her and when she finally slumped back down in her seat, it didn’t take her long to put on her headphones and pull the hoodie over her eyes. Unable to watch her combust any longer you made yourself known by dropping hard into the empty seat next to her. She’d purposely stationed herself in the empty back row, moving from the seat in front of Katie before take off. Nudging her hood back to spy who had invaded her space to see it was you and immediately forced a smile back on to her face. “Wanna watch a movie?” your voice perky, “I’m not really in the mood (y/n/n)” your friend grumbled behind the jumper covering her mouth. “Okay..” thinking of another approach, “I have cards? Entertain an old lady would ya?” nudging her gently as she laughed a little at your statement. “I’m older than you ya cheeky hen, whats that make me?!” snatching the cards out of your hand to shuffle them.

A few games in, Rue finally took the bait and started talking. Just as you expected, life had just got a bit too much for her lately and putting on a front had become tiring. Determined to not let her be sad the entire tournament and knowing you were underdogs with this being Ireland’s first time at a World Cup, she should be enjoying it. So you decided to make it your mission to drag her through the shit and into the light so she could fully appreciate her first time in Australia and at a major tournament, knowing it would most likely be her last chance too. “I’m so glad you made it mate, I couldn’t imagine doing this without you” trying your best to make sure she knows how much the team love her. “Very nearly didn’t come, didn’t know if I could face that for weeks” gesturing towards Katie with her eyes. “But Shebhan convinced me, said I would never forgive myself if I stayed home” her eyes never faltered from the cards in her hand. “Well I’m glad I’ve got my best friend here” nudging her shoulder as you slapped down the winning card. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? Sometimes the person who makes sure everyone’s okay needs someone to ensure she’s okay?” Rue nodded as she as shared out the cards again. Playing non stop for a few hours she shared her worries of not knowing how she’s going to cope being stuck with Katie for so long, at home she can escape but here she’s got to see her ex every single day. She was also hoping to be picked up before coming away but nobody had enquired about her and made the prospect of retiring suddenly more real. She didn’t know what she would do next but you told her you would pay a hell of a lot of money to hear her commentating and you’re sure others would too!

Once you’d arrived at the hotel you made sure Rue was your roommate so you could stabilise her mood and bring back a spark of joy we’re so used to seeing. You thought it was working but when the day of your first game came you could tell she was on the war path - snapping at everyone and losing it over the littlest things. You hadn’t put two and two together until you were in the tunnel stood across from Australia, noticing Caitlin Foord directly opposite Ruesha, suddenly everything made sense. As your eyes burned into the back of Rue’s head who was burning holes into her rival’s - on the pitch and off, you could tell by her stance she was angry. Echoes of Rue’s voice shouting for Ireland bounced around in the metal tunnel, bangs on the side rippling through the line up. By this point it was too late to address her as you walked out with your team, grabbing her after group photos to ask if she was okay. “Yeah why wouldn’t I be?” she replied in loud arrogance. You knew this was going to be a looong 90 minutes.

———-

Shoving Rue back into the locker room Katie was in her face and not letting up as she screamed at her that she was psycho. Laying into her ex for ignoring her new girlfriend in the line up and lashing out after the game. There’s a lot Rue did wrong but she played a superb game regardless, she hadn’t played 90 minutes in ages and it didn’t show for a second. Noticing Rue was about to blow you put yourself between the two exes just like you did on the pitch with Caitlin. You knew Rue was gonna boil over and being the nearest to her, you had to pull her away.. And here we are - a screaming match after our first ever World Cup game.. it certainly leaves a lot to be desired for the rest of the tournament! Being only one person in the middle of two very passionate people right now, it didn’t take them long to simply walk around you. Every time you moved between them they just swerved your body to face each other again. Two Irish women screaming at each other made your ears ring. “If you were a decent human being I wouldn’t be fucking crazy would I!” Rue shouted literally through you towards Katie. “You tried to change everything about me and that still wasn’t enough for you!” this time standing on the bench to shout over the top of you. “It’s always the same argument from you isn’t it! Can you blame me for not being honest if this is how you react? I don’t love you anymore Ruesha, I haven’t loved you for years!” That statement from Katie made your eyes bulge in shock, that was a spiteful thing to say. “You always liked to keep your options open didn’t you!” still standing on the bench and kicking Katie’s belongings onto the floor. “You’re so over emotional and unpredictable Rue, what the fuck even was that out there? Are you trying to embarrass all of us? You don’t deserve to be here!” Katie picked up a boot to throw at her. “WOAH, THAT IS ENOUGH!” you screamed to get their attention, grabbing the boot out of Katie’s hand and throwing it across the room. “RUE! OUT! NOW!” pointing at the door. Ruesha’s arms folded as she refused to move so you did the only thing you could. Grabbing her legs and throwing her over your shoulder you carried her out as the screaming continued behind, kicking the door to open it as you marched the midfielder out of the changing room. Placing her feet back on the ground, as soon as the door closed she burst into tears, lowering her down gently as she collapsed onto the floor. Cradling your best friend who wailed into your lap as the rest of the team walked past, you waved them on determined to not make it a big scene. Once they’d passed, you scooped her up to carry her into an empty room and attempted to her calm her uneven breathing, fetching cold towels for her forehead before she gave herself a migraine.

Exhausted from all the crying she soon fell asleep on the coach, your back was against the window with your legs draped over her - feeling like you were protecting her against the world and the childish snickers from the back of the bus. Arriving back at the hotel you carried her limp body into your room and tucked her into bed, holding her into the next day, ready to take on the world again - in more ways than one.

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 19

abandoned cabin / Yarn

The wood creaked as fibers ran through the spinning wheel.

Malleus was always entranced whenever his grandmother wove. There was something hypnotic about whiling the hours away with one singular goal.

With the approaching frontier of technology, advancements being made seemingly as fast as Malleus could grow new teeth, textiles in all colors and shapes had become more commonplace.

He believed that was largely a good thing. The material comforts he often took for granted deserved to be proliferated among the masses.

For the House of Draconi, however, the act of spinning would likely be buried with them.

Black Scale Castle was lined with the efforts of his ancestors. Wedding tapestries, baby blankets, ornately embroidered frocks, even sets of pillowcases.

The majority was kept in the family vaults, as it was too large a collection to keep constantly on display, but at least one piece from every reign decorated Black Scale.

He knew his mother hadn’t made much in her short time. On the advice of several of the records of previous rulers, she had stayed her hand during her and his father’s courting phase, believing she had a whole lifetime to make him and his father more.

She’d been in the middle of a large rug that would have gone in his nursery at the time of her passing. The rug, loose threads and all, had been framed and hung in there instead.

“Before long,” spoke his grandmother, hands never straying from the spindle, “but hopefully not too soon, you will begin your own work.”

She continued. “Though you will decide for yourself what method, I feel it is important for you to know every step in this process. Do you know why?”

“No,” answered Malleus.

“It is because you must learn to appreciate the work that goes into love, and into a successful relationship.“

She adjusted something on the wheel before contributing. “Love, with the right person, can feel magical. Complacency in its source will cause the fountain to run dry.”

Malleus nodded, but he didn’t fully understand. “Who is this for?”

“This yarn shall be for you. I will teach you spinning later, but for now, we will start with knitting and crochet. You will make yourself a hat and gloves for winter.”

She patted her lap. “Come. Observe me closely.”

Malleus climbed up onto her lap, happy to be surrounded by his grandmother.

—

“So this is where you went.”

Malleus turned around to see Yuu in the doorway.

Members of Night Raven’s student body were on a field trip to the Briar Valley, to observe the Welcoming of Spring, and Malleus had generously lent them use of one of the many properties his family owned, this one a cozy cabin farther away from the bigger cities.

“Ah, I apologize,” he said, putting down his work. Being a good host was draining, but he’d had enough of a break.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” said Yuu, waving it off. “We were just setting up a board game. Wanna be on my team?”

Malleus took one last glance at his work to make sure he’d remember where he left off- a grey scarf, the same silvery grey Yuu often favored- and placed it to his side.

“I would love to,” he said, tongue curling around the word as the corners of his mouth rose as if by magic.

[canmom]

more on art production ~under capitalism~

reading Who Owns This Sentence?, a very engaging and fiercely critical history of the concept of copyright, and it's pretty fire. there's all sorts of fascinating intricacies in the way the notion of IP formed around the world (albeit so far the narrative has mainly focused on Europe, and to a limited extent China), and the different ideologies that justified the types of monopolies that it granted. the last chapter i read skewers the idea that the ability to exploit copyright and patents is what motivates the writing of books and research/invention, and I'll try and pull out the shape of the argument tomorrow. so far I'm only up to the 18th century; I'm looking forward to the rest of their story of how copyright grew from the limited forms of that period into the monster it is today.

it's on libgen if you wanna read it! i feel like the authors would be hypocrites to object :p

it is making me think about the differences between the making of books and other media, from (since this has been rattling around my head lately) an economic angle...

writing books, at least in the case of fiction is usually done on a prospective, spec-work kind of basis (you write your novel with no guarantee it will get published unless you're already an established author under contract). admittedly, a lot of us probably read books by authors who managed to 'make it' as professional authors and write full time - but this is not a lucrative thing to do and to make it work you need truly exceptional luck to get a major hit, or to be extremely prolific in things people want to read.

the films and games of the types most of us play are, by contrast, generally made by teams of salaried people - and thus do rarely get made without the belief it will be profitable. if you went on about your 'monetisation model' when writing a book, people would look at you funny and rightly so, but it's one of the first questions that gets asked when pitching a game.

open source software is a notable comparison here. a lot of it is done for its own sake without any expectation of profit, taking untold hours, but large free software projects tend to sprout foundations, which take donations (typically from companies that use the software) to pay for full time developers. mozilla, notably, gets a huge part of its funding from google paying for their search engine to be the default in Firefox; this in turn drives development of not just Firefox itself but also the Rust programming language (as discussed in this very enlightening talk by Evan Czaplicki). Blender is rightly celebrated as one of the best open source projects for its incredibly fast development, but they do have an office in amsterdam and a number of full time devs.

what money buys in regards to creative works is not motivation, but time - time to work on a project, iterate and polish and all that. in societies where you have to buy food etc. to survive, your options for existence are basically:

work at a job

own capital

rely on someone else (e.g. a parent or partner)

rely on state benefits if you can get them

beg

steal

if you're working at a job, this takes up a lot of your time and energy. you can definitely make art anyway, loads of people do, but you're much more limited in how you can work at it compared to someone who doesn't have to work another job.

so again, what money buys in art is the means of subsistence for someone, freeing them to work fully on realising a project.

where does the money come from that lets people work full time on art? a few places.

one is selling copies of the work itself. what's remarkable is that, when nearly everything can be pirated without a great deal of effort, it is still possible to do this to some degree - though in many ways the ease of digital copying (or at least the fear if it) has forced new models for purely digital creations, which either trade on convenience (streaming services) or in the case of games, find some way to enforce scarcity like requiring connection to a central server and including 'in-app purchases', where you pay to have the software display that you are the nebulous owner of an imaginary thing, and display this to other players. anyway, whichever exact model, the idea is that you turn the IP into capital which you then use to manufacture a product like 'legal copies', 'subscriptions' or 'accounts with a rare skin unlocked'.

the second is using the work to promote some other, more profitable thing - merchandising, an original work, etc. this is the main way that something like anime makes money (for the production committee, if not the studio) - the anime is, economics-wise, effectively an ad for its own source manga, figurines, shirts etc. the reason why there is so much pro media chasing the tastes of otaku is partly because otaku spend a lot on merch. (though it's also because the doujin scene kind of feeds into 'pro' production)

the third is some kind of patronage relationship, notably government grants, but also academic funding bodies, or selling commissions, or subscriptions on a streaming platform/patreon etc.

grants are how most European animated films are funded, and they often open with the logos of a huge list of arts organisations in different countries. the more places you can get involved, the more funds you can pull on. now, instead of working out how to sell your creation to customers who might buy a copy, under this model you need to convince funding bodies that it fits their remit. requesting grants involves its own specialised language.

in general the issue with the audience patronage model is that it only really pays enough to live on if you're working on a pretty huge scale. a minority make a fortune; the vast majority get a pittance at most, and if they do 'make it', it takes years of persistence.

the fourth is, for physical media, to sell an original. this only works if you can accumulate enough prestige, and the idea is to operate on extreme scarcity. the brief fad of NFTs attempted to abstract the idea of 'owning' an original from the legal right to control the physical object to something completely nebulous. in practice this largely ended up just being a speculative bubble - but then again, a lot of the reason fine art is bought and sold for such eye watering sums is pretty much the same, it's an arbitrary holder of an investment.

the fifth is artworks which are kind of intrinsically scarce, like live performances. you can only fit so many people in the house. and in many cases people will pay to see something that can be copied in unique circumstances, like seeing a film at a cinema or festival - though this is a special case of selling copies.

the sixth is to sell advertising: turn your audience into the product, and your artwork into the bait on the hook.

the alternative to all of these options is unpaid volunteer work, like a collab project. the participants are limited to the time and energy they have left after taking care of survival. this can still lead to great things, but it tends to be more unstable by its nature. so many of these projects will lose steam or participants will flake and they'll not get finished - and that's fine! still, huge huge amounts of things already get created on this kind of hobby/indie/doujin basis, generally (tho not always) with no expectation of making enough money to sustain someone.

in every single one of these cases, the economic forces shape the types of artwork that will get made. different media are more or less demanding of labour, and that in turn shapes what types of projects are viable.

books can be written solo, and usually are - collaborations are not the norm there. the same goes for illustrations. on the other hand, if you want to make a hefty CRPG or an action game or a feature length movie, and you're trying to fit that project around your day job... i won't say it's impossible, I can think of some exceptional examples, but it won't be easy, and for many people it just won't be possible.

so, that's a survey of possibilities under the current regime. how vital is copyright really to this whole affair?

one thing that is strange to me is that there aren't a lot of open source games. there are some - i have memories of seeing Tux Racer, but a more recent example would be Barotrauma (which is open source but not free, and does not take contributions from outside the company). could it work? could you pay the salaries of, say, 10 devs on a 'pay what you can' model?

it feels like the only solution to all of this in the long run is some kind of UBI type of thing - that or a very generous art grants regime. if people were free to work on what they wanted and didn't need to be paid, you wouldn't have any reason for copyright. the creations could be publicly archived. but then the question i have is, what types of artwork would thrive in that kind of ecosystem?

I've barely talked about the book that inspired this, but i think it was worth the trouble to get the contours of this kind of analysis down outside my head...

[anonzentimes]

You're one of my favorite people on here, I love komaeda so much, oh my god

infodump about whatever you want about komaeda NOW!! (if you want, you dont actually have to)

RAGGG!!!!! you're so so sweet oh my gosh ❤️❤️ Sure i'll talk about komaeda! I'll just say what I've been thinking about specifically today.

I was thinking about the fact that Nagito can suppress sides of him today, when he needs to he's able to suppress some of his personality for people. I think the reason Nagito is "normal," before his freakout is not only for the plot twist but because he's trying to make a good impression for Hajime. And once he's even more interested in Hajime he wants his attention, He's always by his side at any chance he gets. I think Hajime just generally stood out to him because he felt a connection with him on a spiritual level and acted upon his curiosity. Why would he be the only one to stay behind and wake up Hajime otherwise? I think he had the gut instinct I do when I feel as if I need to talk to somebody who interests me.

His "facade," is sort of like how when you meet new people and you're not entirely showing your true self fully yet, I think he does that. He's able to suppress parts of himself for other people.

Nagito is always wanting Hajime's attention, he respects his personal space and beliefs but mostly wants to be around him. He's also VERY observant, even when he doesn't understand social cues sometimes his ability to observe others is a big factor about him. He observes Hajime a lot.

Which is honestly weird, isn't he afraid of getting close to people? He usually avoids his classmates, he thinks he isn't deserving of reciprocation, and yet he stayed by Hajime's side. He made an effort to talk normally enough that Hajime would like him. He even went swimming without any complaints, probably because he still doesn't want to lose his attention.

He continues this behavior throughout the game, even in Chapter 4 he uses the fact he has information to get Hajime's attention.

He doesn't think he's worth the ultimates time, and yet, he's always drawn to Hajime. He's always after Hajime's approval, it's so oddly fascinating to me. It's not an obsession thing, but he just really loves him for some reason. It feels more like an irrational emotion, it's not warped love, it's not about status, and It proceeds on even when he knows he's a despair.

I wonder if maybe, just maybe, if Nagito saw his suicide plan as freeing Hajime from Despair. Maybe that's how he justifies it with his emotions. And in an odd sense a horrible proclamation of love.

Sorry this kind of turned into Komahina more than anything lmao, but mostly I'm just thinking about how weird it is that he likes him, like why? What is it about him that Nagito is so infatuated with him? It goes against what he usually does, was he just really that special that he becomes irrational to his typical behaviors?

And in the free time events he's even more infatuated because he believes Hajime is amazing for tolerating him. He pushes him away so he doesn't get harmed by his luck cycle, but also to hopefully to get Hajime kill him. He wants him to escape, he wants him to create hope. Because he believes someone as great as Hajime can create amazing hope. And then his love confession???? AUGH his love confession like, it's so complicated. Did he bail out because he didn't want him to get hurt by his luck cycle? Did he bail out because he doesn't think he's worthy? LIKE??? He's so crazy.

Nagito's so interesting, his irrational infatuation with Hajime next to his warped beliefs, luck cycle, warped love, and intense obsession with hope to the point that he becomes morally grey over it makes him such a wonderful and entertaining character.

[broodwolf221]

Regrets questline; murals; end game.

While this is in response to some views I have seen, it’s not meant to be targeted or mean or critical; just me sharing my view on the matter.

Solas and Mythal and their relationship:

I think that Solas and Mythal were friends, first. Close friends, the kind that mean everything to each other. I think with both of them having taken flesh, they eventually ended up pursuing a romance–I don’t see this as cheating, either. That’s subjective of course, but we know that Elvhen culture during the time of Arlathan or preceding it is not the same as any other culture in Thedas. And the Evanuris are unique even among the Elvhen, their culture likely stemming as much from how they interacted as spirits to how they interact as physical entities.

The relationship would have petered out over time, but the friendship, the way they deeply valued each other, would have remained.

I do not and truly cannot see Mythal manipulating or forcing Solas to take form. She asked. He agreed. He knew what he was agreeing to, and it always feels a bit like saying otherwise is stripping some of his autonomy and responsibility away.

And, sure, maybe it’s all because it’s through Solas’ rose-tinted perspective. Except. Even after he rebelled against the Evanuris–rebelled against her–she listened to him when he reached out about the Blight. She sought the truth on his word, even though she didn’t believe there was a problem.

Is that really the action of a cunning master manipulator who has been doing nothing but binding and using him?

So, yes, he regrets what he did with her, he regrets the choices he made, he regrets the choices they made and the actions they took… but regretting a relationship does not mean it was abusive or evil or manipulative. They were working against a ridiculously challenging set of circumstances, and for a long time, it seems that they only had each other to depend upon.

I do think that Mythal became more corrupt the longer she was an Evanuris. Like she’s not guiltless here, no more than Solas is. But his commitment, his loyalty to her, is reflected by her loyalty to him. Because she is loyal to him. She was deeply wounded when he turned from her, but she–the lyrium dagger fragment–listens when Rook points out that maybe she was wrong, then. That the man who followed her everywhere saying no should have made her stop.

Like, they’re people. That’s a huge part of the story here; they aren’t some mystical force of pure precision and flawless intent. They were spirits, and they’re now people in some manner or other, and they’re a bit of both, and they’re flawed and corruptible and can make mistakes or not see things clearly because they’re hurting. Not talking about justifying what either of them did, just that Mythal being hurt by Solas turning from her and maybe not seeing the situation with perfect clarity is beyond natural.

I fully understand why people wouldn’t like Mythal. We first see her as Flemeth, and see the very, very complex and at times very harmful relationship she has with Morrigan. It’s natural to carry that perspective of her forward, but… she wasn’t always Flemythal. She was someone else before that, and it’s that someone else who features in Solas’ murals. Whether she was “better” or “worse” then is both subjective and debatable, but she was definitely different.

But also, at the core, their relationship is one of mutual trust, mutual respect, and mutual affection. And one of the most obvious examples of this–particularly the trust and respect–to me is the last mural. After the end of the base game Inquisition, Flemythal lets Solas take her power. He literally cannot force the issue, he’s too weak; and she has power near what she had so long ago. It would have taken the slightest effort for her to stop him.

But she doesn’t.

She trusted him when he told her about the Blight, even though she didn’t believe him. But she went to check for herself based on his word, and was killed for it. And this was after he rebelled, after she likely felt betrayed by him. And then so, so long after, she lets him take her power, that which she has built up piecemeal over all this time, even though she doesn’t fully agree with his goals. She even protests taking down the veil.

Their relationship is mutual. Sometimes he does stuff he does not want to do for her, and sometimes she does stuff she does not want to do for him. They aren’t good or easy choices, but they’re made for each other. They trust and value each other. The mistakes they made, they made together. So it mattered when she released him, not as a puppetmaster finally cutting his strings, but as the person he is closest to saying it's okay; you don't have to do this for me. You can let it go. You can live your life. Our time is past.

[crguang]

also the overalls on Kafka, her in a suit is always so nice, like I need to put on her tie for her and adjust her collar and kiss her goodbye before she goes to kill a ton of people. When she comes home yank her by the tie and kiss her dumb, and the overalls are coming off. Also she’s drinking again, she went to the bar immediately. I rewatched her trailer, like ik she killed all the guards but I need to be one of them, especially the one at the end, idc if I’m gonna get shot, like her pose, the legs? if Kafka did that to me…I would not survive. And I saw a screenshot of her from like an early game trailer like an anime opening type thing with her name in the background …her legs, omg I need her so bad.

I checked her other replies and it was biographical films and she said “I also enjoy the feeling of reading about and watching others' lives” which makes sense, she def likes analyzing people’s lives and stuff smth smth I don’t like the idea of a movie being made abt me w the director’s interpretation of me, which I thought was interesting, bc obv she’s an “actor” if Elio is the director. And the other one is sci-fi and she says smth like they’re set in the future but the past is repeated in the future. Which is silly bc sci-fi still existing in hsr like what are sci-fi movies abt there? I got gifted lavender oil, to help relax my brain or smth, and makes it easier to sleep, so hopefully that helps too.

-🌠

kafka in a suit always does things to me i love her stupid suspenders so much she looks so edible i need to chew her like bubblegum. and yeah i joke abt her always having a drink in hand but it’s kinda true like maybe it’s time for an intervention…..

we dont talk about kafka doing the world a favor by shooting ipc goons in the head often enough. if i was that dude she was leaning over with her boobs in his face and shot me in the face i’d die happy. like what a way to go. need to sit on her lapppp i need it i need it

learning stuff about her makes me smile so big like of course she enjoys getting in people’s heads it’s her whole thing… did she actually say that she wouldn’t want a movie made about her… it makes sense, since she keeps everyone at a distance and keeps her cards close to her chest no one could know her well enough to understand her fully, so their interpretation of her would never be true to the source material. i really love how mysterious she is and how much effort that goes into staying that way like shes so silly😭 i would argue that elio is also an actor though, he doesn’t control her and hes also just “destiny’s slave”. the scripts/possibilites are already written, he just relays them and twists them to his advantage.

the line about the past repeating itself in the future also makes sense considering that she follows the path of finality, in a “we come from the earth we’ll go back to the earth” kind of way… she also says something similar in a voice line (the past and the future are so similar to each other. i’m indifferent towards them) and im starting to understand what she means by that, even tho im still a little confused about what future she’s talking about. cause she clearly cares about hers lol

[aqours]

ok i REAAAAAALLY need to make a dedicated sideblog for this shit now i realize bc this game is gonna fucking fully get me dragged into this discourse so i'm gonna make an active effort to stop putting these on main, but i can't see myself saying more beyond this in general but ANYWAAAAYS

so i recently made this post about the cognitive dissonance regarding this game and people using fucking CALL OF DUTY a game that is more or less a recruitment drive to make the US military look cool and try to get kids to join up and that GTA's wanted system is actually NOT rewarding you or something to try to play a dick measuring contest with coffin but this interaction really interested me and i wanna talk about it bc i just blocked them after they refused to answer the last question but this is a very specific kind of gaslighting tactic i'm very familiar with from my own days as an anti

i think p much all of us who are used to engaging with this discourse are used to like y'know, being called awful horrible disgusting things. this is not the first time some fucking weird random person came onto my content asking me if i was a kid didler or wanted to fuck my brother. ain't gonna be anywhere near the last time either folks, but i and Lord God knows that's not the case so i don't care what a rando on the internet says but here's the thing: you can't "win" this, but they want to win it. no matter what you say you are the absolute worst kind of dreg of society that should be shot behind a barn and no amount of anything would work. if i actually pulled a list of sourced all that would have happened was they would've doubled down on calling me an inc*s*ious p*d* that I would be willing to use articles probably written by "people like me." because YOU don't care about "winning" this argument, you just wanna get the facts out on your end. it's a catch-22 folks, nothing you say will get you out of it!

i started by calling them a karen, they immediately escalated the living FUCK out of it and tried to trap me in this catch-22 to keep feeling morally superior to me. me saying i don't have such desires and never will isn't enough because i like this game. nothing but me renouncing it will change it.

but here's the thing about antis- they fucking HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE it when you turn it on them. look at the difference. look at the difference between they were the one throwing the catch-22 at me vs. the other way around. what about you? you just came onto my post to harass me, so i'll say it back. how about you? are you just accusing me of these horrible things because you are projecting your thoughts on me? you told me to get a therapist: so maybe you're the one that needs help if so!

violent video games must encourage violence, riiiiight? and you support it because it's violent. Game of Thrones had in*e*t in it so everyone who likes it also is the same. and Demon Slayer, where the pfp is from is violent, so you support it. the main protag's little sister also gets a superpowered form where she gets physically older and a tits out kinda look. so clearly YOU want to see your sister in the same way, right?

and it went as expected. you can see the tone going from smug jerking off with a shit-eating grin to just annoyed while smelling their own farts like it's a rose. and the moment i started doing the same uh i got NO fucking answers and they stormed off. i waited half an hour for a response before blocking them

so why am i typing up this walltext? because i used to be an anti. i fucking guarantee you i would've called everyone who liked this game [insert horrible things] like 7-9 years ago. so let me tell you, you know what pisses off antis more than anything? more than ANYTHING? turning this catch-22 bullshit on them. this is the only way you can end this miserable conversation without blocking them.

it's all one-sided bullshit and the moment you turn it on an anti it IMMEDIATLY shuts it down. this fucker KNEW the answer and you know it. so i wanted to share that, if you ever struggle with this shit: well the best thing you can do is block them and to give a fuck about winning their imaginary argument, but this is the only way to make the headache end otherwise. just throw the catch-22 right back and that's the end. thanks for reading!

[sweetfire01]

Honora Patrem tum [pt.1]

[pt.2]

In the beginning, Simmy created a safe place for you to roll. And that place was obviously your playpen. The mat was soft and the blanket placed on top made the whole surface fluffy and cozy - you wanted to sleep on it! And the position in which the angel placed you, on your stomach, didn't make things easy. It seemed like ages since you last lay down in such a comfortable place; it was actually only a week after your surprise adoption, time to gradually decrease the dosage of the drug in your bottles.

And your Daddy noticed how your little eyes were brighter and some of your energy had returned. He was delighted that you became more energetic, he planned so many fun activities for his little lamb! And those two hours of play in the morning now weren't enough for you, right? So it was time for you to have some more fun. And no, that didn't mean sleep!

He encouraged you to crawl towards him, only less than two meters away from you, although without success. You were probably still too small and weak to do it. Oh well, there was no point in rushing things, was there? You both had all the time in the world and there were so many other games you could do.

For example, he started playing peek-a-boo, making silly funny faces for you to laugh every time he took his hand away. Then he actually rolled you onto your back, one hand under your head to avoid possible damage as he moved you. He cooed at you as you watched him curiously, whose could this sweet little lamb be? Oh, but of course Daddy's! Yes, you are his cute little one, you are!

Meanwhile, you just wanted to die, especially when he grabbed your feet and played "this little pig".

It took a couple more days for you to crawl, obviously in his absence. You almost regretted the first times you were here: now you went from sitting looking at the plushie around you, to lying down looking at Simmy. It was worse in a way, as he expected you to play and enjoy yourself. But you didn't find anything funny about peek-a-boo, the tickle monster or the exercise he made you do, bending your legs towards your torso. You knew this was to improve the bowel movement and, with messy diapers changed pretty much every day, you had no doubt in its effectiveness. It was just this morning that you rolled over on your own for the first time, when you felt like you had enough strength in your arms and legs to push yourself off the changing table. Luckily for Simmy, he stopped you before you could get hurt. Unfortunately for you, now during changes you are restrained by a strap, placed just below your lower ribs.

You couldn't wait to get out of here. From this playpen, from this house, from the Celestial Realm! You took advantage of a moment when the angel headed into the kitchen to actually test how much strength you had. And immediately noticed that you didn't have enough to stand. Fuck it. You managed to get to your knees but not fully stand up. You couldn't give yourself the necessary push with your limbs and the bars of the box were out of your reach to be used for support. So, feeling incredibly ridiculous, you decided to crawl to the far end of this fucking prison. You would have found a way to get up.

Simmy returned to the living room at that very moment, just long enough to see you crawl. Oh my, how adorable you were! He walked over to the playpen, opening it to allow you to move towards him. But even if you stopped almost immediately, he didn't care, the enormous effort had probably tired you out. "Oh little lamb, were you looking for Daddy?" He picked you up in his arms, planting kisses all over your face. "Scared you were alone huh? Poor little thing, Daddy's right here with you now." He couldn't wait to watch you as you walked towards him, his arms outstretched ready to welcome you into his lap. And when would you have taken your first steps? And your first word? Oh father, save him!

"Simmy was cooking a delicious num-num for this baby" He sit down with you on the mat, gently tickling your stomach "Oh yes, delicious num-num for this tummy" Hearing you laugh and babble behind your pacifier brought great joy to the angel. He would enjoy every single second of your growth.

You didn't know what kind of food he would give you, but the prospect of eating anything other than milk was enough to ignore your degrading condition.

[next]