#there are so many others but I can't list them all

[wanderingmind867]

This is the most relatable post you could ever make. This is literally me. Everytime I see a piece of horror media, I get so scared that I can't sleep or focus for months. I'm so easily scared and neurotic that I legitimately do sometimes get scared when i'm alone, because i don't trust things to be fine.

Here's a fun story I haven't told anyone besides my parents before: I didn't sleep on my own until I was at least 12. Until then, I insisted on sleeping with my dad. Because I was terrified of the darkness. And i felt sure that if i slept alone, i'd feel unsafe. Whenever i was awake in the darkness of my dad's room, i had paranoid visions of people trying to attack me, and I only warded those off by imagining my parents protecting me. I kid you not. I've always been this paranoid.

More stories! I can only sleep on my own now because I play a DVD in my bedroom. The mild sound and light helps me feel less scared. I had one of my first nightmares due to Coraline, which is why I hate Neil Gaiman. I now have a fear of puppets, due to that dhmis thing. The list of fears goes on. In essence: everything. Everything scares me. Except when it doesn't. And when it doesn't, i'm always baffled.

Like Frankenstein, Dracula and Werewolves don't scare me. I think it's because I see them as lonely and as rejects who just want companionship, which really helps me not feel scared of the old monsters. But nearly every other horror property messes me up. I'm scared of darkness, scared of horror movies, scared of being alone one day, scared of so many things i can't name them all.

This is absolutely why I have mixed feelings on The Scarecrow, by the way. That Batman villian and I have a complicated relationship, since I feel like his whole gimmick is designed to damage my psyche. I like him when he's played for more of a kid friendly audience (like in the lego games), but his fear toxin really freaks me out sometimes.

they call me the guy whos afraid of everything because. what was that. whos there

[leighsartworks216]

could I request it being the first time ur in a relationship for valentine's and youre not sure how to make it special for sylus because you've never celebrated before ? :)

My First Valentine

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote most of this today even tho the request came in a week ago 💀 sorry

Warnings: fluff, anxiety, nervousness, embarrassment, kissing, gift giving, flowers, Valentine's Day, insecurity, declarations of love, established relationship, pet names, reader is implied as being shorter/smaller than Sylus

Word Count: 1,922

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'45 Fun And Romantic Valentine's Day Date Ideas!' '13 Fun Valentine's Day Activities!' '25+ Romantic Things To Do This Valentine's Day!'

You sigh, closing yet another tab of holiday ideas. You don't know how many websites you've looked at now, all of them promising fantastic gifts or experiences, sure to sweep your partner off their feet. But none of them felt good enough. Not for Sylus.

All your life, Valentine's Day was another lonely day. Your friends and their partners would be out and about or getting together at home, and you'd be stuck in pjs, eating ice cream and watching the same cheesy rom-coms as the year before. The most you'd ever gotten out of the day was in school, when you'd get those little themed cards with a heart-shaped lollipop poked through them.

Now that you have a partner, every single thing you come across feels too cheesy, or like something he wouldn't be into. Not to mention, anything you could possibly buy, he could get on his own with his gobs of money.

Go on a trip? He owns his own private jet; he could go anywhere anytime.

Buy him flowers? More likely than not, they'd wilt twice as fast in the darkness of the N109 Zone.

Dinner at a restaurant means you'd have to find some really fancy place to suit his tastes to make sure he has a nice time. Cooking something yourself could hardly compare to his professional private chef's cooking.

You could get him some vinyls, but you'd hate to get him a duplicate. Weapons? Well, he's got that covered; he deals them.

Asking Luke and Kieran is a non-starter when they're equally as likely to give you good advice as fake advice that would make you look foolish.

You can't fathom how your friends make it look so easy to make plans for the day and get gifts for their partners. Though, you suppose, none of them are dating a multi-billionaire (if not multi-trillionaire or more) crime boss.

You sigh and close your laptop with a snap. What does Sylus enjoy that you can treat him to as a special holiday treat? Something you can feasibly accomplish before the actual day rolls around? Something other than a cheap visit to the arcade or the cat cafe...

Wait... Actually...

Sylus knows you live in rather modest means. He always insists you pay with his black card so you're not stressing about going broke. Why would he suddenly expect you to dish out wads of cash now on a trip or gift? Anything you give him - even if it's a cheap toy from the dollar store - he'd cherish like a gem.

And that's when the idea forms.

With all the preparations written down, you text him, bubbling with energy.

Syyyy

You seem rather playful all of a sudden. What's got you excited, kitten?

You can tell all that from one word??

No, I can tell all that because I know you

Awe 🥺 stop being so cute

Anyway!! I actually wanted to tell you that I have Valentine's Day all worked out!

Oh?

But it's a secret!

Well now I'm interested. What do I need to do for these plans of yours?

Just show up at my place at nightfall on the day of :3

That's it? Why do I feel like I'm being lured into a trap?

Oh yeah the worst trap of all a doting partner who wants to pour all their love on you

Alright. I'll see you then, kitten

But don't think I'll be showing up empty handed

I'd be concerned if you did ngl

Ily <3333333 Goodnighttt

Goodnight, sweetie. I love you too

-

For how simple your plan is - or perhaps because of how simple your plan is - you've never been more nervous in your life. You've double and triple checked everything, made sure he'll be comfortable and not too disappointed with what you've come up with, and second-guessed yourself several times about whether this is actually a good idea.

Not that it matters. You'd be really down to the wire to come up with something new now.

You pace the living room, wringing your hands together, chewing your lip, fussing with your hair. You feel like a dog excited to see its owner when you hear a patterned knock on the door. So excited you nearly trip over the corner of a blanket in your haste to answer it.

Sylus is there to greet you, an easy grin on his face and softened eyes. A large bouquet that you'd drown in rests deceptively small in the crook of his arm. A bag hangs from his other hand, but he sets it down when you step into the hall to hug him.

He chuckles fondly, squeezing you tightly to him and kissing your head. "You look cozy," he teases playfully. His fingers tug at the back of your pajamas.

You laugh nervously as you step back. "Ah, yeah. It's part of the stuff I planned, actually."

He quirks an eyebrow. "I'm a bit overdressed."

"Don't worry! I got you some!" Your face grows hot. You feel like an idiot, flustered and inexperienced. "Come in, so I can explain better."

You take the bouquet from his arm. It's full of your favorite flowers, their delightful aroma tickling your nose as you carry them into the kitchen to look for a vase. You have to rely on your muscle memory to move around; they completely block your vision. Sylus follows in after you with his bag, peering around the little space of your apartment. He'd offered to get you a bigger one, once. Somewhere with a view, soundproof walls, and all the upgraded appliances you ogled in the stores. But you refused, and he respected that, even if it meant being inconvenienced by the lack of space for someone of his size.

His eyes land on the couch, covered in blankets of all sizes. Various DVDs cover the coffee table alongside a neatly folded pair of pajamas. It's cluttered, but purposefully so, as if the mess has been built into the experience.

You find a vase (bought after the first time he bought you flowers that you had to divvy up between various drinking cups) and settle the bouquet on the small dining table. There's no room left for two people to eat there. You come back out looking a mite more disheveled than before.

You smile awkwardly up at him, eyes flickering from his face to your setup as you rock back and forth on your feet. "So! Um, I've never actually had a partner to celebrate Valentine's Day with before, so I used to get a bunch of ice cream, maybe some takeout, and I'd just spend the night on the couch with a bunch of cheesy rom-coms. And now we're together and I didn't know what I could do because you can have anything you want at any given moment. But, um, I just thought, for my first Valentine's Day with someone, I could... share my 'tradition' with you." You exhale a shaky breath. "I know it's probably not what you were expecting..."

"Sweetie," he gently interrupts your rambling. He sets the bag on the couch, then closes the space between you, holding your face in both his hands, urging you to meet his eyes. They shine with something warm and sweet, like cherry wine. "It's not what I was expecting, but it's better than anything I could have imagined."

You scoff. "You're just saying that."

He shakes his head. "I can't buy a tradition, sweetie. This is something that means a lot to you. I'm fortunate enough to be the one person who gets to share it with you; no amount of money could do that."

Your heart feels light. It floats around your chest like a balloon filled with helium. Butterflies flutter in your stomach to join in on the fun. Is this how your friends felt with their partners? It's addicting. You try to blink away the incoming tears before they can form.

"What did you bring?" you ask suddenly, redirecting the conversation away so you can have a chance to gather yourself.

Fortunately, he lets you have it. With a knowing smirk, he kisses your forehead and steps away back to the couch. You miss the proximity immediately.

He pulls out each item one by one, holding it up to show you. "Wine. I can't say anything about how it'll taste, but the label was pretty, so I thought you'd like it." He sets it on the coffee table.

"You mentioned that you liked to go to the store the day after to buy the discounted candy. Well, it wasn't discounted, but I grabbed a variety." Those remain in the bag, but he has to shift it all around to reach something at the bottom.

He seems the most proud of - and the most nervous for - this one. He glances over at you before he pulls it out, as though double checking he has your attention. From the bag comes a hoodie, that he holds by the shoulders to let it unfold. It's nothing too special to look at, but the size is what strikes you. When he holds it up, it's clearly the perfect size for him. His ears tinge pink as he holds it out for you.

"You complained once that I don't have any hoodies for you to steal, like other couples do," he reminds you, voice soft and vulnerable.

He watches carefully as you step forward and reach out to feel the material. It's soft. So soft. You take it into your arms. The familiar scent of Sylus wafts up from the fabric; his body wash, his cologne, him. You hold it up to your nose to smell it better as you look up at him in awe.

"I wore it for a couple days," he admits. "If you don't like it, I can-"

"I love it." You really are going to cry now. You step forward, clinging the hoodie to your chest as he wraps his arms around you. "Sy, this means so much to me. I'm never gonna be able to take it off."

He chuckles. His arms squeeze you just a bit tighter, pull you a bit closer. "I'm glad. You're my first Valentine, too."

You pull back enough to look up at him. Your eyes are glassy, surprise to earnest on your face. "Wha- Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"Well, I mean, I just- You're so... you. That's a compliment, by the way."

"I was waiting for the right partner," he says with a huff of laughter. He dips his head down, soft lips capturing yours in a meaningful kiss. When he speaks again, it's in soft murmurs between kisses. "I'll go change... into the pajamas you got me... and then... we can watch... your movies."

The butterflies are back in full force. Each kiss has them flittering about, doing swoops and swirls in your stomach, wings tickling your insides. "Okay... Mm, but, stay here a bit longer..."

He smiles against your lips, hands sliding up your body to hold your face as he tilts his head, yearning to taste more of you, feel more of you. "Love you, sweetheart..."

You blindly set the hoodie on the arm of the couch to hold his fancy shirt in both hands, drawing him closer, knuckles brushing against the defined muscle beneath the fabric. "I love you, Sylus... Mm, so much... so much..."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @burningtrashgentleman

[ladyrosemone]

The Other Side Of Paradise

Using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ This is an intermediate of part one, as the Batfamily's point of view just like you had yours, official part two coming soon! Also my question box is open (I think) and without further ado, enjoy the read! (Thanks for enjoying the read 😭🫶🏼)

Tw!: Profanity (use of prostitute as a derogatory insult), murder, murder scene described, negligence.

Tag List: @tsuniio, @simpingpandas, @dakotali, @softycheol.

Dick is always first.

The first child acrobat of the circus, the first son of Bruce Wayne, the first Robin, the first brother, the first everything.

And he was proud of that, from being an orphan to the pride of Gotham it was not an easy path and much less a happy one, but amidst so much pain and loss he is grateful for having a constant; his family.

Dysfunctional and somewhat shaky, where violence and beatings are the language of love, they find comfort in knowing that they have each other.

He has Alfred as his honorary grandfather, who is the wisest person he will ever meet again.

Bruce, who even with his flaws is his father, who gave him a chance and never abandoned him, making him the man he is today.

Jason, the most distant but beloved of his brothers, knows that he can always count on him and his strength at all times.

Tim, his chair boy, his best confidant, and the best detective in the world, trusts him with his life over anything he can't find.

And Damian, his little brother, his favorite boy in the whole world, the Robin to his Batman, what he wouldn't do for his sharp-tongued brother; even when he came to the mansion threatening and stabbing everything, never gave up on him and the result was completely worth it.

His sisters are also dear to him; Stephenie and Cassandra are strong and independent, but also loyal and loving. Barbara may not be a sister -she still has her father- but she has earned a place in the family and is considered sister as much as Steph and Cass.

Of course he will never leave Duke behind, the newest, the ray of sunshine among them all, he expects great things from him.

Dick is always first.

Dick is the last one to remember you.

Jason hates remembering his life before the well.

He doesn't want to forget, there are memories that still keep him sane; his mother, when Bruce adopted him, his first patrol as Robin. You.

But if it were up to him, he would never talk about them again or even acknowledge their existence. They are chains that bind him, quicksand that make him sink whenever he tries to move forward and personally he is fed up.

Because no matter how many villains he catch and how many more kill, how many people save, nothing will take away the guilt of not having saved that person. Don't save you.

Of not finding the strength in himself to look for you now, because for you, there is nothing but shame and shame for himself. The first friend he had, the first brother he had, his first great loss, his only great regret.

Jason hates remembering his life before the well.

Jason hates being the first to discover your new identity.

Tim is a genius.

Genius falls short, his brain works like a computer within a computer within another; Wires instead of neural conduits and electricity instead of energy is what happens in that brilliant brain of yours.

He was never an ordinary person, he is ambitious and resourceful, intelligent and determined to get what he wants.

That started with the mantle of Robin.

When Jason was still in the portrait, he wanted to be part of the duo; He trained and prepared, ready to help from the Batcave until the Joker thing happened. And even when it felt bad to carry the title of the bat's henchman, he felt proud that his perseverance took him to the top.

And it was the beginning of his destiny.

Robin, Red Robin, the robin's mantle is and will be a part of him that he will never let go, but he is also the one who remembers every detail of every case of every villain of every attack in Gotham, is the one they turn to when they need to confirm exact information. Nothing escapes him, ever.

Tim is a genius.

Tim passed you by and lost.

Damian is the perfect heir.

His father is the most powerful man in Gotham and Batman himself, his mother is a skilled and lethal assassin, daughter of a dynasty of the world's fiercest assassins, and he is the result of the cross between the two.

He is perfect.

That is why he will never deign to look down on the unworthy; Richard is fine, Jason is worthy because served his mother and grandfather, Tim still doubts it, women are strong allies and that new boy has potential. Alfred and his father, of course, are worthy of his obedience.

And you? You are worse than a disappointment.

A stain, a mistake, someone who should never have existed, rotting his perfect legacy, you should be thankful he didn't kill you when he had the chance.

It's not that you deserve it, you don't deserve anything from it.

You are so insignificant to him that not even in his dreams did he worry about your whereabouts, of course he knew that you were no longer there, he had to watch you in case you stole something when you left like the thieving prostitute who was probably your mother, but when you did not return, he felt triumphant for having taken care of -without killing- the family problem.

Damian is the perfect heir.

Damian feels like his throne means nothing in front of you.

Bruce is a father.

He never considered himself one, maybe he wanted it once, when his own father was alive to learn from him, but that dream died when his people did it in the alley.

Despite everything, he tried to be a father to Dick, and his efforts, although questionable, worked. Then Jason with his bright eyes and bubbly personality, taken away too soon, let go too soon.

Even now, so near and so far, it is his greatest loss as Batman, as Bruce Wayne.

Tim was...complicated; arrived when he had not overcome his grief and treated him in the most atrocious way he had ever imagined treating his children. Still, he proved to him time and time again that was more than expected.

Damian was unexpected of an unexpected union; son of Talia Al'Ghul and grandson of Ra's Al'Ghul, he awaited a bloodthirsty and indomitable child. Which started badly ended well, his youngest son is on his way to writing his destiny far from his ancestry, and in his heart knows that did the best he could.

Barbara, although not their daughter, is part of their family, Stephenie and Cassandra are their beloved daughters, and Duke is officially their new son.

Bruce is a father.

Bruce is not your father.

Do others really have a voice in this narrative? You barely remember them, you barely knew them, much less you care about them. Yes, even Alfred.

"I don't understand, there's nothing more" Tim murmurs, looking at the images on the Batcomputer, reading the documents at the same time, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers trembling from the coffee laced with an energy drink that just drank "There must be more"

"You searched enough, you should get some sleep" Barbara intervenes, in her wheelchair "I'll cover you"

"No, there's something I'm overlooking" he insists "I know, I just have to look carefully"

"Tell me it's not that thing again" Jason complains, arriving at the Batcave with his Red Hood suit on, barely removing his helmet.

Dick nods, his usual smile not drawing his face, just a grimace "We're close to finding it, just...something's missing"

The image is clear; a party room, with people dancing and laughing, as precise as a painting but recent that appeared in the newspaper. All of these people are families of dangerous underworld groups.

Lords of drugs, weapons and human trafficking, ex-convicts and people who work for villains are...enjoying the party.

It wouldn't be relevant if it weren't the photo before the tragedy.

⚠️ Description of crime scene, bodies and blood under the cut ⚠️

All of them, women and men, young and old, nothing more than a combined mass of blood and bones, guts scattered on the walls and decorations of the room.

The floor, the stairs, everything contaminated, women's bodies -which were getting smaller, then only limbs such as arms, hands and finally, fingers- arranged on the main staircase. They all point to something;

⚠️End of scene⚠️

A painting.

In the two photos, the painting of a house is what steals the attention; nothing special, nothing grand, just a painting of a gray wooden cave house, with the background of a distant city and without a signature, almost overlooked as another photo if it weren't for the canvases and the paint under his fingers when he touched it.

In both photos the painting is at the top of the stairs, in both the light was shining on them and in both it draws attention before anything else.

Why? What does it mean? What does it tell them?

"There must be something more than that, hidden among the corpses" says Damian, the most obsessed -besides Tim- in discovering the identity of the one who, for months, has left them clues after helping them anonymously, only a pseudonym in your name; The Savior.

Or that is how those who bring your messages to them have referred to you, speaking of you as a Saint, a savior among men, God himself who came down to protect them.

And they can't let that continue.

They must know if you are dangerous, if you are a potential threat or potential ally. They must discover you.

Alfred arrives with more coffee, because he knows his words won't be heard at that point; When the family becomes obsessed with something, they hardly let it go until they get their fill of it.

His eyes pursue that house; small and misaligned, painted in a very specific way, too specific.

Jason doesn't like to remember the past.

"Wasn't there a phantom surcharge on the accounts months ago?" He says in a low voice, almost lost if the echo of the cave had not returned the word to him.

"There are many like that" Tim murmurs without thinking about the matter "Hey-!"

Jason pushes him aside, typing furiously and searching through files, searching and searching remembering remembering until...A contract, simple and almost empty, with a late date and an unknown signature, the name blank but with an address and a photo; the photo of the painting.

The house.

"How did you...?" Tim was surprised, looking at that contract as if he had never looked at it before, reading carefully, sleep and fatigue fleeing his body.

Bruce looks on without speaking, but those who know him know that a war of insecurities is raging inside him; How did it happen? Who was it? When did do it? Has access to all he private accounts? Do has know their identities?

The clue has been revealed, the answer discovered, and the game is just beginning.

"I think it's time to arrange the pawns on the chess board" you say in your luxury suit, the highest in the tallest building in Gotham, looking at the flashing lights that fill the streets, looking at the outskirts of Gotham, looking at your next move, looking at the wide-screen camera that's embedded in the painting's window.

[madebycloud]

No Erase

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: on valentine's day, and you've finally worked up the courage to write a letter to your crush confessing your feelings. unfortunately, your friend accidentally gives the letter to the one person you can't stand. warnings/themes: fluff, one sided enemies, valentines, kissing cam, angry confessions, fast burn ig, mordern au words: 10.9k

You look at the letter in your desk, which you spent at least six hours working on to make sure it's perfect. Not just to make sure the words you're choosing are perfect, though—you want to make sure your handwriting is perfect enough that it doesn't look sloppy.

You grab the letter and read it over one last time… lovey-dovey bullshit, sappy stuff, romantic nonsense, etc.

You cringe at the last words, “Meet me at the bleachers... recess.”

It's so cliché, so stereotypical, and maybe you've had a couple too many cheesy romance movies in the past month. You've probably read a dozen fanfics that start like this.

If it were done by anyone other than yourself, you'd think it was absolutely dumb and corny as hell.

You know you could just message them through snapchat or on insta, or facebook, even just confessing through their email is a good idea… but, no, you just can't do that.

What if you say the wrong thing? what if you just happen to say something extremely cringy in your message? what if they screenshot it and put it on their story for everyone to see? what if they reply with “who is this...?” what if they start ignoring you?

Plus, you love your phone too damn much, and you know you're gonna end up throwing the damn thing because of the absolute panic you're gonna feel when your finger hits that send button.

You probably should have just sent a carrier pigeon or something… at least they could eat that.

Oh wait.

You forgot one thing.

You look around your room, trying to figure out what you left out. Your penmanship is on point, the words are as romantic as they could be, and the grammar is perfect... but what's missing?

The perfume.

The bottle of perfume is on your dresser, hiding behind the jewelry case. You spray it liberally, making sure the paper absorbs the smell of it, before finally folding it up neatly and placing it in the envelope. You seal the envelope with a kiss to the paper and hope it's the ‘special touch’ that it needs.

The smell is nice, just enough to have the paper absorbing it nicely, but not enough to be overwhelming (even if you love the perfume to death). You also want your recipient to be able to read the letter without cringing.

Okay, now it's really done. It's romantic, it smells good, and it's as perfect as you can get it.

Tomorrow's the day, and you finally feel confident. You have everything ready to go, you just have to figure out how to get your friend to deliver it to your crush's locker.

As you get ready for bed, the only thing you can't stop thinking about is how tomorrow will go.

Will they love the letter? will they finally realize the feelings you have for them and confess their own feelings? who knows?

—

“Come on,” you whine, begging Ekko for the fifth time. “Just do me this favor, please?”

Ekko just scoffs and gestures to the table. “I already told you, I have all of these-” he motions to the dozens of letters in front of him, “-that i'm supposed to deliver for girls that are crushing on Caitlyn.” He sighs. “I can't add any more to my to do list.”

“Please?” you beg, waving the envelope at him. “It's really important.”

Ekko groans and slumps forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Why can't you just deliver it yourself?”

“It's kinda.. embarrassing… for me to deliver it myself…” You fidget awkwardly.

“Ugh.” Ekko groans again but gives in. “Fine,” he relents, sitting up straight and grabbing the letter from you.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ekko waves his hand dismissively. He stands up and stretches out, letting out a deep sigh as he does. “Just remind me what locker number it is?” he asks, shoving the letters into his bag.

“Locker number is 13 C,” you reply, watching as Ekko slings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking out of the cafeteria. “It's pretty much right next to Caitlyn's, so you won't be missing it.”

“Got it,” he says, turning around and flashing a grin at you. “See ya later.” He gives you a salute before he disappears. 

Finally.

After months of keeping your feelings quiet, your secret would be revealed. You just have to hope that it doesn't blow up in your face.

—

Ekko walks down the hallway, scanning through the numbers above the lockers until he finds the one he's looking for.

Caitlyn's locker.

He scans the area for any sign of Caitlyn, and luckily for him, the coast is clear.

He pulls out the envelopes from his bag, each one slightly crinkled from being stuffed in there. He counts up the total- ten, no, twelve... wait. Fifteen? that's more than he thought, he could have sworn there were less. He dumps all the letters on top of the locker hole.

He looks down at the remaining letter in his hand. Right, that one isn't for her. He sighs and places the letter next to her locker, just like he was told to do.

He gives the locker one last look but doesn't give it a second thought and starts walking away, whistling as he goes.

But... what Ekko didn't know is that instead of placing it into the locker next to it, he accidentally dumped it into 11C, aka, Vi's locker.

—

You wait at the entrance of your school, impatiently bouncing on your feet. Valentine's day is tomorrow, and you can't wait for your crush to read the letter you poured your heart into.

Then, you spot Ekko, and you're quick to greet him. “Hey!” You throw an arm around his shoulders. “So, did you put it in?”

He nods, gesturing to the school doors. “Yeah, I did.”

You sigh, relieved that the letter is in your crush's locker and will likely be seen by them soon. “Thanks.” You give him a squeeze on the shoulder before letting go of him. “I seriously owe you one for this.”

Ekko just brushes you off. “It's nothing.” He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets as you start walking into the courtyard. “Just doing my good deed of the day.”

“Mhm, hopefully tomorrow goes as planned,” you say, “I just hope they like it…”

—

Tomorrow finally comes, and it's the day you've been patiently waiting for. Valentine's day.

You're in your first class, waiting for your teacher to come in. You're distracted, your mind racing with thoughts about what your crush thinks of the letter.

Then, someone suddenly sits next to you, and you turn to look at-

“What the hell?” you blurt out, looking at Vi as she makes herself comfortable in the chair.

Vi smirks. “Hey,” she greets.

That smirk alone pisses you off.

You still haven't gotten over the fact that because of her, your grades had taken a nosedive. The two of you had been paired together in science class, and she'd somehow managed to blow up the experiment, all because she wasn't paying attention.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you snap, glaring at her.

She simply glances at you, then back at the desk she's sitting on. “What do you think? I'm sitting.”

The audacity? 

“I know that, but why are you sitting next to me?”

“Come on, don't act like you don't know.” She throws in a wink, and your disgust quickly multiplies.

“Excuse me?” you sputter, completely caught off guard by her sudden flirtatious behavior.

“You really gonna act like you don't know?"

“No?”

She scoffs and leans towards you, smirk on her lips. “I mean,” she adds, eyeing you up and down, “I thought you'd be... happy... to see me.”

You're stunned, confused, and quite frankly, grossed out. “Happy to—WHY ON EARTH would I be happy to see you?” you spit out.

She huffs and slumps back into the chair. “Oh wow, thanks for the warm welcome.”

“Well, what did you expect? You haven't exactly been... pleasant to be around.”

She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to reply but stops short as the teacher enters the classroom.

She finally shuts up, and you're left wondering what just happened. Why in the world is someone who is a pain in your butt cheeks suddenly flirting with you? is there something wrong with her? or has she lost her damn mind?

—

It's recess, and you're sitting on the bleachers, waiting for your crush to show up.

Your palms are sweating, you're starting to worry that your armpits are going to start smelling, you're probably going to end up throwing up on someone's shoes.

The letter was probably too much. The words were too romantic. The whole cliché “meet me at the bleachers” thing was just cringe. Who wrote that? oh right... you did.

But even if the outcome isn't what you hope for, at least you've got a good story to tell later or maybe a good reason to drown yourself in ice cream and cheesy rom-com movies.

You look around the bleachers once, twice, three times. You try to avoid glancing at your phone, but the urge to check the time only grows stronger.

It doesn't help that a couple of assholes are sitting a few feet away from you, loudly laughing at some video playing on one of their phones.

Recess is almost over, and your crush is still not here. Where the hell are they?

Maybe they could possibly be in the bathroom, having a nervous breakdown like you were? or maybe they're just taking their sweet time, making sure they're looking perfect?

Or maybe they're not coming at all.

And then you hear footsteps coming your way,

THIS IS IT.

Is your hair okay? yes. Are your teeth brushed? yes, dumbass.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms, trying to calm your racing heart. You turn around, ready to see the face of an angel, the face of a goddamn god-

But instead you see the face of someone you'd rather shove into a brick wall.

Vi.

Why the hell is she... smiling at you?

“Damn, you look good from this angle.” 

WHAT?

Why is this goddamn lesbian here with that stupid smile on her face?

“Why are you here?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm here to see you.” She pulls out an oddly familiar envelope from her pocket and holds it in her hand, and you realize why it's so familiar.

Wait...  that's your letter!

The one you wrote to your crush. The one that's meant to be in their locker, not in her damn hands.

How the hell did it end up with her?

She looks at the envelope, studying the handwriting on it, and then her eyes lock with yours again. “This is yours, right?”

Your hand quickly snatches the envelope from her hand. “How the fuck did you get that?”

Vi quickly snatches the envelope away, holding it out of your reach. “Whoa, woah, wait-”

“Give me that!” You lunge for the envelope, but she sidesteps you.

Vi laughs, holding the envelope away from you. “Isn't this for me?” She opens the envelope and throws it aside, then pulls out the letter and starts reading it aloud. “Dear... what the hell, how do you... whatever. Dear blah, blah, blah, happy valentine's da-”

“-SHUT UP!” You try to snatch the letter again.

“Hey, I'm not done reading it yet! This is my valentine's gift, after all.”

“That letter is meant for someone else!”

“Really? Then why did I find it in my locker?”

“Wait, what? You found it in—you're joking, right?”

She shakes her head, waving the letter in front of you. “Nope, I'm not joking.”

“How did you-”

“Someone put it in my locker.”

“That's impossible! I would never—I mean to you? there's no way that was meant for you.”

Vi squints at the words in the letter, then looks up at you again. “But this is definitely written in your handwriting, right?”

How did it end up in her locker? and how the hell does she even know what your handwriting looks like?

Your eyes dart from the letter in her hands to her face. Yes, it's definitely your handwriting. Yes, it's definitely the same stupid letter you wrote because you're a hopeless romantic.

“Maybe,” you grumble.

“Maybe? so it is yours?”

You avoid her gaze, avoiding her smug look.

She starts reading over the letter again, reading it aloud. “Meet me at the bleachers, how goddamn cliché-”

“STOP READING IT!”

“Damn, I didn't think you could be this corny.”

“Shut up, just-” You try to snatch the letter out of her hand once again, but she pulls her arm away.

“You wrote this much for someone?”

“Why do you care so damn much, anyway? You didn't get a valentine gift or something?” and now you're just being bitchy as well.

“What are you, ten?” she retorts.

“And what are you, an idiot?”

“I'm not an idiot, unlike you.”

“Oh, wow, are we back in sixth grade now?”

She looks down at the letter. “I'm not the one who wrote a heartfelt letter for someone who probably doesn't even like you.”

“And how the hell would you know?”

“Have you even talked to them before?” She lifts her head, her smirk coming back when you didn't answer. “Since whoever the hell you have a crush on doesn't like you-”

“They could still-”

“See, everyone has a valentine. Well, almost everyone, which means your crush probably got one too.”

“Yeah, 'cause you got that letter they were supposed to receive.”

“Maybe I was meant to have it then.”

“You're seriously that sure that the universe wants you to have this?”

“Maybe it's a sign.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Are you just dumb on purpose?”

She grins. “I'm not doing it on purpose, and maybe it's a sign that I should be your valentine, that the universe is trying to tell you something.”

You roll your eyes. “Wow, so confident. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're actually serious.”

“And what if I am serious?” You look at her blankly as she shrugs. She actually thinks she's funny. “I mean, you don't have a valentine, which does kind of suck, and I don't have one, which is by choice, by the way, so I think the universe is clearly telling us something.”

What the actual hell is wrong with her today? she didn't get enough sleep or something, and now she's acting like... like this? this is weird.

She's being weird. 

“What, is the universe now trying to set us up? really? we're gonna get a movie based off this?”

“Hey, no one said this was a movie, maybe it's just a cute little high school romance,” she argues back. “Plus, you put a lot of work into this letter, and I'd hate for it to go to waste.”

“I'm not in the mood to start a cute little high school romance with you, okay?”

She heaves a dramatic sigh. “Look,” she says, holding up a hand to stop you from replying, “it's valentine's day, right? and we both don't have anyone, so it's just... for today, we can, you know... see what happens, and if it doesn't work out, then we can just leave it alone and go back the way we were.”

You blink slowly. “That sounds worse than your whole ‘the universe wants us together’ bullshit.”

“Wow, don't act like the idea of it is so awful. I mean, I'm not that bad, right?”

You're going to disagree with that with every single cell in your body, but you decide not to, instead, you just remain silent.

Vi seems to take your silence as agreement because she gives you this insufferable smirk like she just won something.

She continues. “It makes sense if you think about it. We're both single, you're already in a lovesick mood because of this,” she gestures at the letter, “so if we do, you know... we can get it out of your system, and you won't have to spend the rest of the school year pining over some person who is probably ignoring you anyway.”

Why is she making some sense? no, why is she sounding like... a good option all of a sudden?

“It's just for today,” she reminds you again. “We'll just see where it goes. Who knows, you might actually have some fun with me.”

This feels like you're cheating on your crush for even entertaining this stupid plan. 

“You're basically saying that we're going to spend one day together and then you'll ditch me?” you retort.

“No, that's not what I'm saying,” she corrects you. “I'm saying we're gonna spend one day together, and if it doesn't work out, then we go our separate ways. It's just one day, it can't hurt. It won't be such a big deal.”

“I'm not going to be your one day entertainment.”

“Who said you'd be my entertainment?” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at you. “You and I both know you have no other options. What're you gonna do instead, go home and cry over this person who doesn't even know you exist, or just spend the day wallowing in self pity while the rest of the school is celebrating love and stuff with their actual valentines?”

You wince at her harsh words because...  she's got a point.

You don't have anyone to spend this day with, and the person you'd want to spend it with will probably spend it with someone else... so yeah, you have no plans, and yeah, you're probably going to just go home and wallow in self pity, wishing that today was over already.

What would happen, actually? if you go along with her stupid plan. You could finally have an escape from pining over your stupid crush who probably doesn't even notice you.

“Fine.” You snatch the letter back from her.

“Wait, what? really?” She's actually surprised. No wonder, she's the one who came up with this stupid plan in the first place.

“I am,” you say, “you don't want me to?”

She huffs out a laugh. “No, no, of course not. I just… didn't expect you to actually agree.”

“And why is that?”

“I don't know, I figured you'd still have a little bit of decency left in you.”

What a backhanded compliment. “I have plenty of decency left in me, it's you who I'd question, and besides... it's just for today.” You fold the letter and shove it into your pocket.

Vi hums, not taking that offense to your comment. “Just today,” she repeats. “Then tomorrow, boom, everything goes back to normal.”

You nod. “Back to normal.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Whoa woah woah. Calm down. “Ew, what?”

“I didn't say I will kiss you,” she points out, “I said I could.”

You could say something mean to her words, you could try to change the subject or you could just walk away and forget this conversation ever happened.

But what you actually say is, “What's stopping you then?”

You hate how that sounds so casual. It wasn't meant to come out like that. What the hell?

You're not entirely sure, but something is definitely encouraging you to keep this going. Is it because you find everything she does annoying or that you've been pent-up over your stupid crush lately and you need to get it out of your system?

Vi raises an eyebrow at your words. “You want me to kiss you?” The words drip out of her mouth, like honey on a spoon.

“No,” you reply on instinct, because of course not.

But you can't stop the way your eyes flicker down to look at her lips. You look back at her face, and you know damn well she saw you look down at her lips, but she doesn't say anything about it.

“So now that it's official... you're my valentine, and today, we're going to have the shittiest, most awesome date-” she coughs, “-i mean hangout, that you'll ever have.”

“I doubt it.”

“Hey,” she says, “don't underestimate me, okay? I know how to have a good time,” and then she, god help you, she winks at you.

She looks like she's about to say something more, but she stops when the bell rings.

“Meet me at the parking lot after class?” she asks.

You find yourself nodding. “Yeah, sure.” You look at the field for a second and then look back, just so you can catch her reaction—and it's not at all what you were expecting. She's...  blushing?

It's subtle, more subtle than you'd think, but her cheeks are definitely red, and when she realizes you notice her, she looks away.

She looks embarrassed.

She's embarrassed?

“Anyway, see you there... valentine.” She doesn't look at you. “Try not to miss me too much.”

What? miss her? She sounds like she's trying to joke about it, but something about the way she says it sounds sincere? What the fuck?

She starts to walk away. You're pretty sure you see another smile on her face, and if you didn't like her so much, you'd probably like how she looks when she does.

But you remind yourself, this is Vi.

The same Vi you've known for years, the same Vi who made your grades worse because of a stupid experiment, the same Vi who you'd probably love to throw out the nearest window if you could, and the same Vi you can't stand.

You force yourself to turn away, and you start to walk back to the school building. You try to push the image of her stupid blushing face and her stupid pretty smile out of your brain because you are not... going to make the mistake of being attracted to her.

—

Time passes by more slowly than a snail.

What's the saying...? ‘A watched pot never boils?’ You're pretty sure you could watch paint dry, and it would move at a faster pace.

Why is time passing so slowly today?

You're not sure if it's because you have this... ‘hangout’ to expect at the end of the day or if it's because you keep getting distracted by the thoughts of what is going to happen later.

What you do know is that you end up spacing out way too much more than a person should.

Thankfully, you don't have any homework, but your notes for the day are just absolutely horrible, a mindless mess of scribbles and pointless words. You're definitely going to regret this later.

The last bell mercifully rings just as you're in the middle of doodling a small sketch of Vi's face in the corner of your notes.

You quickly shut your notebook and stuffed everything into your bag.

You need to find your goddamn common sense first, but it seems to have left the room before you could.

The hallway is a goddamn mess.

Kids are running everywhere in the halls, screaming loud as hell, some girl is trying to stuff her locker to the point where it's going to explode, and some kid has got a goddamn boombox and is blasting music from it. There's the hallway drama that everyone loves listening to even though they should be minding their own business.

Seriously, it feels like you're in the middle of a goddamn jungle with the amount of people screaming.

Walking to the parking lot takes longer than it usually would. When you get there, you see a familiar head of pink hair leaning against a red motor, scrolling through something on her phone.

She hasn't noticed you yet, and you find yourself unable to move your feet for a second.

She's just leaning back against the motorcycle, lazily swiping through something on her phone. She's even biting her lower lip slightly, and for some reason, you really don't know why that's such a good look on her.

Okay, what?

You need to stop letting your brain run away with these thoughts.

You are not going to act like a middle school idiot who just got caught looking at her crush or something. You're an intelligent, mature human being. You're definitely not some dumb kid with an embarrassing crush either. Definitely not.

The sunlight makes her glow, and when she looks up from her phone, you feel you're hit with a wave of goddamn sun poisoning because the sunlight hitting her eyes makes them shine.

She looks over and sees you, shoving her phone into her pocket. She gestures you over with a slight jerk of her head.

You force your feet to start cooperating and get your ass over there.

“Glad you came.” 

What kind of response would even be the right one for that? “Me too” would sound too enthusiastic. “Yep” sounds so disinterested, like you'd rather be anywhere else than here, when that might be partially true, but you're not trying to sound like a dick. “Same here” sounds like such a sarcastic tone, and “Of course I'm here, you're the one who forced me into this” would sound too rude.

Instead, you just say nothing, which she notices, of course.

“What, no smart shits today?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you mutter as you turn your attention to the red motor behind her. You notice the scuffed up leather seat and the worn tires.

You then glance around the parking lot, wondering how many times you've seen this before. The motorcyclist who's always late to class, the seniors who smoke too much and are always ditching school, the students with cars who love to show off the brand new car their parents gave them, and the popular girls gossiping about some poor girl who can't afford nice clothes.

The sound of a motorcycle engine starting snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Vi getting onto the motorcycle

She pats the back seat behind her. “You getting on or what?”

“...is it like fast?”

“Is it like fast?"” she mimics in a childish tone before rolling her eyes. “Yeah, it's fast. Get on it and find out.”

“I just asked a question, no need to be a dick.”

“Are you always this bitchy?” she asks, then throws you a helmet. “Put this on.”

You catch the helmet, and you put it on. “Only around you.” You approach the motor and try not to comment on the poor condition and instead climb on behind her.

You have no idea what to do with your legs, so for a few seconds, you just awkwardly sit behind her, trying to position yourself like riding a horse.

“Are you gonna hold on?” Vi calls out.

“Hold on to what?”

“Me, dumbass. Grab my waist.”

“Hell no.”

“It's for your own safety.”

“I'm fine,” you shift around, trying to find a comfortable position.

Vi seems to start losing her patience with you. “If you want to fall off the bike mid ride and splatter onto someone's yard like a squashed bug, be my guest.”

That gets you to hold onto her waist out of pure spite.

“Just don't squeeze my abs too tight. I still need air.”

You scoff. “Who the hell is so narcissistic that they think something as simple as that would affect me?”

She huffs, amused by your snark, and puts on her own helmet. “It's not narcissism. It's just a joke,” she retorts. 

You scoff again, but your hand tightens around her waist reflexively.

She chuckles. “Knew you couldn't resist.”

You pinch her waist. “Just shut up and drive.”

She snorts. “Touchy, aren't we?”

“Yeah, I am,” you reply sarcastically, pinching her waist again.

“Hey!” she exclaims, then sighs. “Okay, fine. I'll stop, just stop it.”

She starts the motor, and the hum of the engine vibrates throughout your body. It's louder being sat on top of the thing compared to how it sounds when you're on the ground. You feel this rumble throughout your chest, and you really want to comment on the poor thing making that much noise.

“Just hold on tight.”

—

“FUCK YEAH! WOOO!” you shout, punching the air with your fist and standing up. It's hockey, but who cares? you're not a fan, not in the slightest, but you're still screaming and cheering, all in a bid to support the team.

Vi is right beside you, shouting as well, while she eats a hot dog and washes it down with soda. “I thought you hated hockey!” she shouts over the crowd's cheers.

You shrug, but it's impossible to respond. You can't hear each other over the sound of the audience's cheers.

A few of the people sitting in the same section as you give you some weird looks, like you suddenly went insane. Well, can you really blame them? it probably looks like you have the sudden urge to yell random things for no reason.

Vi is the only one who doesn't look at you like you're some lunatic, her gaze is focused on the game, all while cheering, and occasionally making comments about the players.

It's different compared to watching it on TV. You're actually there, in person, surrounded by people who share your excitement and are as loud as you or louder.

You're also next to the most annoying person ever, but you don't want to dwell on that.

You drop down, back into your seat, and lean back, stretching your legs out. Your thighs and legs are starting to feel like jelly from all that screaming and standing. “Damn,” you tell her, shaking your legs. “I think I just strained a muscle or something.”

Vi laughs and sits down on her seat. “You know, I've been around here for years now. I probably know some people here.” She glances around the crowd of people, scanning them like she's trying to find someone in particular.

“Oh yeah? who's that in the third row then?”

She follows the direction of your finger and immediately points at a random person. “That's Fred! I once went to elementary with him.”

You have no idea if she's making that up or not. “And what about the guy next to him with the big hat?”

Vi squints at the section you pointed at. “That's George.” She then points at a girl with a black jacket. “That's Sneha,” she pauses, her eyes catching someone in the distance, “and oh-” her hand abruptly changes direction, pointing forward, “-that's Jenny,” she says, waving her hand. “Yo, Jen!”

The old lady turns around and nods her greeting. “Hi sweetheart, how's it going?”

“Doing good, gramps. Just watching the game with this one.” She nudges at you.

The old lady turns to look at you, her face taking the form of a smile. “Ah, a girlfriend, I see.”

Girlfriend? What's she talking about? “Um, no. Just a friend.”

Vi's eyebrows rise as her whole mouth goes ajar. “Friend?” she repeats, “We're friends now?”

“Only for today. Don't get used to the idea.”

The old lady, Melinda, hums. “Is that so? well, enjoy the game, children.”

“Yeah, yeah, we will,” Vi responds to the old lady, and once the lady turns back to watch the game, she leans in close, bumping her shoulder into yours. “That's Jen. She's basically the team's grandma,” Vi explains. “She's been here for years, goes to almost every game.”

You watch the lady continue to watch the game. “So she's like a regular here.”

“Yeah, sometimes she talks about how things were better in ‘her day.’”

“You two seem close though,” you point out.

“She's old and friendly,” she says, scratching her cheek. “Plus, old ladies are always fond of me. I helped her one time with her groceries after one game, and now she thinks I'm a sweetheart.” Vi shrugs, taking another bite of her hotdog. “She's also a nice lady. Always has candy and stuff to give out to everyone.”

“Candy, huh?”

“Yep,” she swallows and smacks her lips to get any food out from her mouth. “She always has peppermint discs, peppermint sticks, and chocolate sticks in her bag.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Why does she have candy anyway?”

Vi takes another bite. “Just something she likes to give out,” she says, between chews, then points at the old lady's lap. “That blue thing she's knitting is actually a hat. She likes to give that out too.”

“Really?”

Vi shrugs again, eating yet another mouthful of her food, still somehow managing to speak at the same time. “Yeah, and don't be fooled by the knitting and the candy. She could beat you in a game of arm wrestling. She's still really buff.”

You nod silently, impressed with this old lady.

When Vi swallows the last bit of her hotdog, she pulls out her phone and points it at you. “I'm gonna take a picture of you... and put it on Tinder.” The second the camera's click sounds off, it takes everything in you to not grab her phone and throw it across the goddamn stadium.

She continues taking pictures, each time saying something different, like, “Look at this one,” or “This one's really good.” She holds up the phone, showing you a picture that's... actually not half bad.  But you know giving her that reaction would just fuel her to do more, so instead, you scoff.

You turn your attention back to the stadium, trying to ignore whatever she's doing beside you. You look around. There are a surprising amount of men, guys, dudes, bros, etc. It's like they outnumber the women.

“There's a lot of dudes in here,” you comment. “Is it a testosterone fest over here, or what?”

Vi looks around as well. “Yep.”

“Do you think any of these guys like girls who love sports?”

Vi snorts. “Nah,” she replies, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “They're more interested in a girl who looks good in a jersey and knows how to bring them a cold beer.”

“So… basically they're only interested if we look cute and we don't open our mouths?”

“Pretty much.”

You groan. “I hate guys like that.”

“Hey, some guys aren't that bad,” she remarks.

“Yeah, and they're the ones in relationships.”

She thinks about it for a moment. “You know… I'm surprised you're not in a relationship.”

You give her a weird look. “Why?”

“Well, you're... y'know… cute.”

Is that a compliment or a fact? you are cute, you're aware of that, but still, it's weird how she said it and... did it look like there was a hint of something else in her tone of voice when she said that?

You force a smile, trying to brush it off. “Thanks.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, a silence you really want to fill with literally anything else than this weird awkwardness.

Just when the awkward silence couldn't possibly get more awkward, a sudden cheer from the crowd interrupts your thoughts. They're all looking up at something on top of the stadium. You furrow your brows before looking up, trying to see what it is they're looking at.

Your eyes land on the huge TV that's attached to the ceiling, and you see the words ‘KISSING CAM’ flashing in bright letters. The camera pans through the crowd, searching for a couple, and it lands on a couple who's sitting not too far from you.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” You look over at Vi and see her cupping her hands over her mouth. She's standing up and shouting at the couple to kiss.

You watch as the girl looks up and sees the camera pointed towards her and her boyfriend. She whispers something to him, and it doesn't take a genius to know what she just said. The guy grins and leans in, giving his girlfriend a sloppy, wet kiss.

The crowd goes crazy, cheering and whistling. The couple pulls away from each other, both of them smiling.

You look at Vi again, who's still standing up. She seems to be enjoying this a lot more than you are, and you can see hearts in her eyes.

Once it seems like the camera has recorded enough footage, it moves to the next couple.

It goes to a couple sitting not too far away from you. The guy looks uncomfortable, but his girlfriend is completely eager to show some public affection. She grabs his chin and kisses him, but it’s only a quick, chaste kiss.

Vi yells out, “Come on, put some effort into it!” and then she sits down, leaning back in the chair.

The camera pans through the crowd again, skipping over several couples until finally landing on a group of guys. They look like they're having the time of their life, yelling at the camera and making rude gestures.

“Ah, boys…” an older man next to you sighs.

The camera captures the guys for a while, they're all laughing and having a good time.

The camera moves away from the group of guys and lands on Vi and a girl sitting right next to her. 

Vi immediately makes some hand gestures, shaking her head and probably saying no. “We're not-” but before she can finish, the camera moves away from them, unsatisfied with this answer, and lands on the other girl sitting next to Vi.

You.

Fuck.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” you hear someone, it sounds like the same person who cheered on the other couples.

You look over at Vi, who's watching you with this stupid smile on her face. You glare at her, she's clearly enjoying this way too much.

You lean over to her, through clenched teeth, you hiss, “This isn't funny.”

She shrugs, still smiling. “I think it is.”

“Well, I don't.” 

“It's only a kiss.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

“Oh come on, it's Valentine's Day!” she replies. “What? are you worried that you'll suck at kissing or something?”

“Excuse me? I am an excellent kisser.”

“Oh yeah?” She quirks an eyebrow. “Then why are you so worried about this? it won't be some gross open mouth kiss, it'll be just a little peck.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Because I don't want to be seen kissing in public, in front of hundreds of people,” you say, lowering your voice, “And I definitely do not want to kiss you.”

“Come on, you don't have to sound so disgusted by the idea of kissing me.”

“Because I am,” you say simply. “I don't want to kiss you anymore than you'd want to kiss me.”

“I never said I didn't want to kiss you.”

That statement takes you by surprise, you had just assumed that she would be grossed out by the thought of kissing you.

The chants start to get louder as more and more people join in. “KISS! KISS! KISS!”

You hear the same guy from before. “Kiss! c'mon! it's just a quick kiss, do it.”

You hear another girl from behind you. “Oh, come on! one little kiss! what's the big deal?”

It's no big deal. 

But at the same time, you're starting to panic. You don't even know how to act right now, are you supposed to play along with this? are you supposed to ignore it? what the hell is happening?!

Your brain is starting to mush into mush because why are so many people chanting? why are they making such a big deal out of this? it's just a kiss, right? right… so why are you so nervous?

You turn your head to see Vi looking at you, her eyes staring into your soul.

“A kiss on the cheek will do,” she says aloud.

You're going to die.

Your heart is going to explode right here, in the middle of the stadium, and then your guts are going to spill out right in front of everybody.

Maybe it's best just to get this over with?

All you have to do is... just a kiss on the cheek. That's it.

You just have to get it over with before this turns into something bigger.

You're not really gonna enjoy this, you'd just get the feeling like you should have brushed your teeth harder in the morning.

Vi's not even attractive in the way that you would want to kiss her cheek, her skin probably sucks from waking up in the mornings, there's no way she remembers to wash her hair at least three times a week. What about her breath? There is no way that she actually brushes her teeth every day. Her breath probably tastes like stale cheetos and mountain dew. There is no way you're gonna get a single bit of pleasure from kissing her cheek.

But you do it anyway.

You press a kiss on her cheek, and it's... warm, and they burn under your lips. The smell of her body spray isn't overwhelming. It's subtle and pleasant. Her hair isn't as greasy as you imagined, and it feels kinda nice when your fingers brush against the side of her face. Her breath doesn't even smell like mountain dew and cheetos, it's actually minty and fresh, like she just ate a pack of gum.

You pull your face away before you let your brain get to you, but you just keep looking at her face because there is this huge grin plastered on her face that makes your heart beat faster. Her cheeks look red, and the tips of her ears are even red too.

The crowd goes nuts. You can barely hear the music or the announcers over the chanting. The kiss had lasted all but a few seconds, but the feeling on your lips linger.

You're both looking at each other like you've just seen each other for the very first time.

She's actually gorgeous.

How is it possible that you only now realized how beautiful she looks?

You look away, but even in your peripheral vision, you can see her looking at you. There's still a stupid grin on her face, and she looks happy.

She's actually happy that you kissed her on the cheek.

—

You and Vi are sitting in the parking lot after the game ends. Vi had bought some $5 pizza, but since the place is packed, you're now sitting in the parking lot with Vi's motorcycle parked behind you.

“I'm gonna be honest,” Vi starts, her face twisted up as she chews on a slice of pizza. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

You hum, nodding along.

Vi takes another bite, a big one, and chews on it, her cheeks stuffed. She swallows and sighs contently. “Man, I should have bought two boxes,” she grumbles, looking down at the one last slice left in the box. Then, she looks up, straight at you, and grins. “You want the last slice?” she offers, holding up the box with the slice still left in it.

You shake your head, and she looks at you with skepticism. “Are you sure you don't want it?”

“I had three slices already, I'm fine.”

Vi looks at the slice of pizza that's still in the box, then at you. She looks like she's considering something, then shrugs and pops the slice into her mouth. “Suit yourself,” she says, the words garbled since her mouth is still full of food.

Something about this moment feels... comfortable. Strangely comfortable.

It's weird. You don't understand why you don't feel threatened or uncomfortable or annoyed or any of those things, even though she's sitting right next to you.

But, oddly enough, you feel safe.

Or maybe that's just because you can't think of anything to say.

Or maybe it's because the silence isn't awkward.

Or maybe it's because you're distracted by the way she seems to enjoy her food.

Because... it's so... weirdly satisfying, watching her chew her food, watching her swallow, watching her use the back of her hand to wipe off the sauce on her chin.

You have no idea why you're paying attention to those little details.

But... you are.

You're not sure when you started paying attention to those.

You're not sure why you feel so comfortable around her right now.

You're not sure of a lot of things, actually.

You're not sure how to feel at the moment, or when your dislike of her had dwindled down to... whatever the hell this is, to whatever this weird, unfamiliar feeling in your chest is.

You're not sure why the corners of your lips keep trying to twitch upwards every time she makes some stupid face.

You're not sure why you're fine sitting in the freezing cold of the parking lot. Not even on the motorcycle, but on the cold ass ground, just sitting behind the motor, back leaned against it.

You're just fine sitting here, and you're just fine knowing that after this, you'll have to go back home and deal with a bunch of bullshit again.

You don't get it.

What changed?

She used to get on your nerves, and you used to get on hers.

She's still the same, isn't she?

And you're still the same.

Everything, suddenly, feels... different.

The air feels different, the atmosphere feels different, the whole world feels different.

The only thing that hasn't changed is her.

Well, no, that’s a lie.

She has changed.

She feels different.

She's not the same girl you can't stand.

And you're not the same girl she can't stand.

Everything is just different.

Maybe the two of you had changed.

But you're not sure how.

You're not even sure when you started noticing it.

But those little details about her, those little behaviors and quirks and habits that you used to find irritating and annoying… they're not bothering you anymore.

She's still a pain in the ass, but she's... well, a tolerable one.

For now.

You don't understand.

Or, rather, you won't allow yourself, at least not yet.

Because you're not sure how to process everything.

And, honestly, you're afraid to even try.

You look at her, still eating on the slice of pizza, and there's a small smear of sauce on the corner of her mouth. “You've got something on your face.”

She tilts her head. “I do? Where?”

Your eyes slowly move down, from her eyes to her nose, and then... her lips. Then, you notice something... freckles. She has freckles. little ones, spread across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and they're… really cute, really, really-

What in ever loving hell are you thinking?

“Hello? you alive over there?”

You snap out of it. You're not about to let her see you be weak just because she happens to have a pretty face. “You had something right… here,” before she can respond, you raise your hand, reaching for her cheek. You wipe the sauce off the corner of her mouth with your thumb. Your thumb accidentally brushes against her lower lip, and something in your chest twitches. 

Vi freezes, her eyes widening as you touch her lips.

Everything feels... slower.

You can hear the sound of her breathing as she exhales, how it hitches when you brush your thumb along her lower lip.

You don't know how, or when, but you find yourself leaning closer to her, your hand still cupped on her cheek.

Her gaze flicks to your lips, her own parting slightly.

...

Holy shit.

You snatch your hand away, realizing what you just did.

Damn it, what the fuck?

You quickly stand up, trying to regain your composure. “I-” Your voice comes out as a croak. You clear your throat, trying to sound normal. “I should... get home. I think it's getting late.”

Vi is still sitting on the ground, and then she shakes her head, as if waking herself up. “...right. Yeah, it is getting late.” She slowly stands up.

“I... umm…” you start awkwardly. “I should-”

“I'll... drive you home,” she interrupts whatever you were about to say. 

Your head snaps up, surprised by the offer. “What? You don't have to-”

“I want to.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, so you shut your mouth. You don't want to prolong this weird, confusing moment anyway.

—

Vi's motorcycle comes to a stop in front of your house. The engine making that clunky, sputtering sound before it finally dies.

“We're here,” you say, trying to break the awkward silence that has been between the two of you since you got on the motorcycle.

You manage to finally slide off the motorcycle, but unfortunately, you're still attached to the helmet. You attempt to unbuckle the chin strap, but the damn thing seems to be glued to your head.

“Ugh, this piece of crap,” you mutter, struggling with it.

“Here, let me-” she cuts in, reaching for the straps.

“No, I got it,” you insist.

“I know you can, but let me.” 

You glare at her, feeling stubborn, but it's not like you're getting anywhere. “Fine.” You let your hands fall to your sides as she reaches for the straps.

She unbuckles it with ease, finally freeing your head from its confines.

You take the helmet off and give it to her, trying to not make eye contact. “Thanks.”

There's a moment of what could be an awkward silence before you both speak at the same time.

“So-”

“I-”

You cough awkwardly. “Go ahead.”

“No, you can speak first-”

“No, no, I insist. Go ahead-”

“I'm fine-”

“Stop being stubborn-”

“Says you-”

“Yeah, I am stubborn-"

“Shut up-”

“Make me-”

What did she say? Was that... an invitation?

“Are you challenging me-”

She snorts. “Pfft, no, that-”

“Then why would you say something like that?”

“I don't know, thought it'd be funny.”

“It wasn't.”

“It was a little funny.”

“No, it wasn't,” you scoff. “Whatever. You were saying?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies, shifting on the motorcycle. “I just wanted to say…” Her gaze shifts from you to the side, then back to you. “I just wanted to... say that I had... fun today. Yeah…” She shrugs. “What about you? what were you sayin'?”

Huh. “I guess it wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“Wow,” she says, deadpan. “So glad you're not completely miserable being around me.”

“Don't get your hopes up too high, it's just for today, remember?” you remind her.

“Yeah, I remember, I'm not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me,” you retort, and a smirk makes its way to your face.

“Watch it,” she warns, the corners of her mouth curving upwards. “I'm only tolerating you today.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you quip back.

The two of you share a look and then start laughing. You're glad she's starting to loosen up a little.

“Alright alright, truce?” She holds out her fist.

You roll your eyes but bump your fist with hers anyway. “Truce.” 

There's another silence, but it doesn't feel... awkward like the last ones.

Then, she speaks up, “Well... I guess I should go.”

“Yeah,” you reply. “I guess you should.”

“See you at school, then?”

“Unfortunately,” you grumble. You take a step back, getting ready to turn around and head to the front door.

“Hey,” she suddenly says.

You glance back at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Can I…” she starts, then hesitates, “...can I ask you something?”

You shrug. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Just... promise me you won't be mad,” she hedges, not quite looking at you directly.

“I'm not promising anything-”

“Just... humor me.”

“Fine. I promise I won't get mad.”

She takes a deep breath. “Do... do you… do you actually hate me?” You're silent for a moment, trying to find the words, but she starts backpedaling. “Ugh, never mind, I shouldn't have asked, forget it, it doesn't matter-”

“No, no-" you interject, “I don't- I don't hate you.”

“You don't?”

“No... I don't hate you.”

“You sure?” she presses, leaning forward on the motorcycle, resting her arms on the handlebars. “Then why are you always so pissy whenever you're around me?”

“I dont-” you start, then stop. “I'm not-” you start again and stop again. “Remember that time in science lab?”

“When we lit the bunsen burner, the table caught on fire, we got three detentions, and everyone thought we were going to be expelled?” she recalls.

“Yes… that time.”

“Seriously? that was months ago.”

“I never said I was the most forgiving person.”

“It was a mistake,” she points out. “I didn't mean to do it, I was just being stupid.”

“It was still your fault. You didn't look at the instructions.”

“I was distracted,” she counters.

“By what, your big brain? cause you definitely weren't paying attention to the experiment instructions.”

She looks away, shifting uncomfortably on her motorcycle. “Actually, I was distracted by something…” her eyes return to yours, “-someone.”

“You're making it sound like it was a person you were crushing on or something.”

She falls silent, looking away again.

Wait.

Hold on.

What?

“Wait—wait a minute,” you demand, walking closer to her.

“What?”

“You were being distracted because you were crushing on someone during the science lab? That was the reason that whole thing happened? You couldn't keep yourself from being distracted because you were crushing on someone?”

“That's not fair to say,” she protests.

“Not fair to say?” you repeat, scoffing. “I literally got three detentions because you were more interested in staring at someone-”

“Fine! Whatever. Maybe I was distracted, maybe I wasn't paying attention-” she admits defensively “-maybe I was looking at-” she cuts herself off again. “Whatever, I'm going home.” She starts her motorcycle, not glancing at you.

“Hey-” you reach out, grabbing her arm. “Wait.”

“What do you want?”

“What was that person's name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Cause, I have a hunch.”

“Care to share this hunch with me?”

“Uh, Caitlyn Kiramman…?”

She snaps her head to you, eyes tracing up and down. “Are you actually this clueless?” she sneers, then drives away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” you shout. “Seriously, what is your problem?” you call out after her. “We were having a decent conversation, why did you-”

Suddenly, she stops, braking abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk with a quick skid. Before you can say, or think, she has her motorcycle facing you once again. She swings her leg over and hops off, walking up to you with a determined look.

“You want to know my problem?” she asks, coming closer. “I'll tell you my problem.” She grabs your shoulders, forcing you to step back. “My problem is that it's been years. Years, and you still have no idea, do you? you're still just as clueless as always.”

“What are you-” you stumble, struggling to keep your footing. Her hands are tight around your shoulders, holding you in place.

“You keep saying I'm the one who causes trouble, I'm the one who always makes your life harder-” she continues. “But you-”

You manage to find your footing and look at her face.

“-don't seem to get that you're just as guilty of making my life miserable.”

“Vi-” you start, but she doesn't let you finish.

“Every time you smile at me, every time you look at me, every time you talk to me.” She shakes you. “Every time you do something stupid, which is all the goddamn time,” she spits. “You don't seem to get that it drives me insane.” She huffs, letting go of you. “I've been right in front of you this whole damn time, and you just didn't even-”

“Didn't what?”

“You had no idea, did you? You don't understand why I’m so damn irritable whenever I'm with you, you don't get why I'm always trying to pick fights, why I can't just be civil, why I can't just be normal around you… you just think I'm a jerk!”

“Well, maybe you are. You did just grab me like a fucking maniac.”

“Oh, shut up,” Vi snaps. “Just shut up for a second.”

You shut up.

She takes a deep breath. “You think I enjoy this?” she asks, and the question sounds genuine enough that you regret the ‘maybe you are’ comment.

She scoffs. “I don't. I wish more than anything that I could just be calm and civil and… and nice around you. But instead, I'm always getting into your face, I'm always picking at you, I'm always trying to piss you off, because it's the only goddamn way I can get your attention.”

“Any time I try to be normal around you,” she continues, “I get... I get ignored. You act like I'm not even there. But the second I get in your face, the second I do something stupid or obnoxious-” she gestures at herself, “-suddenly, you're right there. You're looking right at me, you're talking to me, for once, you're actually paying attention to me-”

“Why do you even care about my attention?!” You don't mean for it to come out as angry as it does, but the pure confusion you feel causes you to raise your voice.

Vi looks away, a frown twisting her lips, before she snaps her gaze back to you. She sounds oddly embarrassed when she speaks. “Maybe because I'm completely, miserably, head over heels in love with you, okay?!”

Wait... what the actual fuck?

Vi looks away, the words leaving her in a rush. “I'm in love with you,” she repeats, quieter and slower. “There's no maybe about it. I've literally been in love with you since middle school.”

“So, instead... instead of just telling me,” you start, “you... you decided to be a jerk to me for the past six years?!”

“I was twelve!” Now her attention is fully on you as she gestures at herself. “I was a dumb kid, I didn't know what to do, but I was desperate for you to notice me. Every time I tried being nice, I got ignored, so... I guess I decided that if you weren't going to notice me in a good way, then I was just gonna piss you off and make you notice me in a bad way.”

“And then, I just kept doing it,” she continues, “because then, you would notice me, and you'd talk to me, and at least you weren't ignoring me. It became a habit. It was the same damn cycle every day. So, you know, I'm sorry if I don't suddenly know how to behave like a normal goddamn human being around you.”

She looks at you defiantly, she's expecting a fight, an argument, and the last thing she expects is for you to... laugh

You laugh. You don't laugh because you think it's funny, you laugh because you're so unbelievably shocked and overwhelmed that the only thing you can do is laugh. You try to cover it up, you try to muffle your laugh by bringing your hand to your mouth, but it's too late, you've already laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” she asks. “I'm being serious, okay? this isn't a joke, it's not some sort of prank. I am dead serious—I just confessed to you, and you start laughing? Jesus, you're actually heartless, you-”

You manage to get your laughter under control, your body still shaking with a few silent chuckles, but you manage to speak in between your breaths. “You have the worst-” and another chuckle, “-worst timing, I swear to god.”

“Oh I'm so sorry that my confession didn't please all of your fucking needs,” Vi says sarcastically, “but I've spent god knows how long in love with you, and I just had to take my shot. And what are you doing? You're laughing at me. Because your pride can't stand-”

“Would you shut up for like two seconds?!” you snap, cutting off her rant in an instant. “I'm not laughing because you confessed to me, okay?!”

“Then why are you laughing, huh? why is this so funny to you? because I don't find it very funny-”

“Because-” you sigh, and you're actually surprised by how... nervous you suddenly feel. “I never expected this, okay? I never expected you to actually... feel that type of way about me, and to top that, you're confessing to me in the stupidest way possible.”

“I didn't plan on confessing to you at all!” she protests. “It just... kind of happened. Plus, you've never been too keen on me.”

“I-” you begin because 'not keen on you' feels like an understatement. You've never liked her, or rather you've never let yourself even consider her as an option because your heart was set on one person only. “I just need some time to... process this.”

Vi scoffs, her face looking annoyed again. “You need time to process this? what's there to process? I just told you how I feel about you.”

“Yeah, well, I need to process that! Because you just dumped a lot of information on me, and right now I'm-” You pause, trying to pick just the right word. “...overwhelmed, okay?”

Vi's features soften, not quite fully, but just enough to show a little bit of sympathy. “Overwhelmed,” she repeats.

“Yeah…” you reply, “I mean... you just confessed to me, and I... I've never-” you gulp. “-I've never really thought of you... that way.”

“Never thought of me, or never let yourself think of me?”

Okay, woah, that's... a very accurate question.

She's right, and it's scary that she just pointed that out.

Maybe in the back of your head, you've wondered things, you've had thoughts, but it was all so brief, you've always been quick to brush them away. It never even crossed your mind that maybe you had been missing out on something.

You're not sure how to reply, and it gives Vi a chance to continue talking.

“You never let yourself think of me like that, huh?” she continues, “That's pretty sad, because I've literally been in love with you for the past six years.”

“Don't guilt trip me,” you snap. “It's not like I asked you to fall in love with me, is it?”

“I'm not guilt tripping you. I'm just trying to get you to understand how I feel. I'm just trying to make you see that I...care about you, okay? I'm not trying to—ugh!” She groans, rubbing a hand over her face. “I'm screwing this up, I'm screwing everything up, because apparently I suck at confessing and you… you mess with my head.”

“I mess with your head?” you repeat. “You're the one who's messing with my head! You're the one who's messing with my emotions, you—you just turned my entire life upside down, and you expect me to respond to it perfectly?!”

“Not perfectly!” she retorts. “You're seriously not getting it, are you? All I want is for you to-”

“What do you want then? you want me to say that I feel the same way about you? that I've secretly been in love with you for years and never said anything?”

“No, that's not what I— that's not what I want you to say at all!” She runs her fingers through her hair and pushes it out of her face because the haircut she has gets everywhere. “All I want you to say is that you'll even consider me as an option! I just want you to give me a chance. Is that so much for me to ask for?”

You groan to yourself. “Look, if you like me that much, then maybe you should at least make an effort… and then maybe... I'll give you a chance!” With that, you walk towards the front door.

Vi doesn't respond, not immediately, she just stands there watching you leave, a stunned look on her face. But she manages to shake herself out of that stupor in time to follow you.

“Are you serious...?"

“You want me? You gotta work for it,” you respond without slowing your footsteps.

“Woah woah woah, what? work for it?” she sputters, trying to keep up with you. “What more do you want from me?”

“I want-” You stop in front of the door, suddenly turning around to her. “-I want you to prove how serious you are. Just confessing to me isn't going to change everything, and if you're being serious,” you jab a finger to her chest, “then prove it.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to prove myself, huh? Please, tell me, because I'm really at a loss here.”

“I don't know, figure it out.” You shrug. “You claim to be in love with me, right? and if that really were the case, then you have six whole years worth of feelings inside that-” you point at her “-that heart of yours, and you better damn use it.”

“Fine,” she says, and her tone is determined. “You want me to prove it? I'll prove it. I'll prove it so much, you're going to be drowning in how much I prove it. I'm going to do everything just to win your heart. Just watch.”

That sounds cheesy, but... you'd be lying if you said you weren't intrigued. You scoff, turning around and opening the door, but not before saying, “We'll see about that.”

—

Vi stares at the closed door, her thoughts completely occupied with your words.

Prove it.

She shakes her head, a grin on her face as she walks back to her motor.

You and her have had a rocky past, but she's determined to wipe the slate clean.

Vi swings her leg over her motor. She grips the handles tightly and starts the ignition.

She's going to start from the ground zero with you.

And by god, she will prove herself.

[ultramaga]

ADHD:

Autism is too broad a category, and thanks to ASD, it's become something that could be applied to everyone. This needs to be narrowed down a lot. In some types, there are intellectual exercises that can be done to greatly reduce the effect of it, e.g. by reducing anxiety, practicing social interactions, and so on.

Clinical depression: Again, too broad a diagnosis. Might be feeling a bit down, might need shock treatment or you will die. Some milder forms of depression can definitely be dealt with intellectually which CBT can help, or even physically through exercise.

"You cannot think your way out of feeling." If you don't have a mental illness, and I include Autism depending on severity, then yes you often can, and techniques like meditation, CBT, and even cold showers can and do work. In fact I have read of some people with autism using cold baths as therapy - I have no idea if that's based in science, but they said it worked FOR THEM, so I take their word for it.

One thing I see, over and over, amongst Leftists, is a wallowing in misery. People list off the many reasons their lives are terrible, and having established that, they validate each others misery, and never improve their lives. Beforehand, it was Feminists. Life was terrible, because men. No I can't move away from men, the men won't let me! No I won't provide evidence of the invisible chains - you have to believe me - there's no point in trying to improve! And all around me, I see people who have lived through absolutely awful things, and who still enjoy their lives. They make the effort. These are people with crippling disabilities, people who have seen folks they loved died, and yet they can still find value in life.

It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate I am the captain of my soul.

Say you break your ankle. You could know everything there is to know intellectually about the injury. Even with this vast knowledge, you will still experience physical pain.

Now take this logic and apply it to things like ADHD, autism, clinical depression, and other less visible/divergent disabilities. You cannot think your way out of feeling.

That is to say: you are not a bad, lazy, or selfish person for struggling, even if you know why you are struggling.

[ssentimentals]

hi nini!! hope you doing great today 😊 saw your prompt list for your 1.7k followers celebration (HAPPY 1.7K FOLLOWERS NINI!! 🥺💐). could i possibly request svt woozi x oc/reader with prompt no. 8 pls? thank you so much!! been reading your works since last yr and all of it are so amazingggg ><

hi anonie! ahhh thank you so much!! i'm so happy you're enjoying my works :') and of course you can request, thank you for doing so! 💜

prompt: 'who did this to you?'

'baby, i'm home!' you announce, closing the door behind yourself. quickly taking off your hat and scarf, you start unbuttoning your coat, talking loudly: 'god, it's freezing outside! please tell me that you managed to fix our heater, this zero degrees situation is frankly ridicilous. oh and i also got us tacos cause it's friday and we deserve tacos!'

you stumble into the living room with wide smile and bag full of said tacos in your hands, pausing at the sight of an empty room with your boyfriend nowhere in sight. jihoon always makes a point of greeting you from work, has this whole routine of coming over with gentle smile and even gentler hands that instantly pull you close for a hug. the silence in apartment is suspicious and you paddle slowly to the kitchen and then to the bedroom. you call his name again and when instead of a usual 'hey baby' you get 'don't come in!' from him, you start getting nervous. 'what's happening? why i can't come in?'

'uh- nothing, it's all good, you can enter the bedroom just not our bathroom, okay? i'll be out in a second.'

jihoon's voice sounds strained and it lacks usual warmth that he always has reserved for you. without thinking twice you enter the bedroom and make a beeline towards the bathroom, leaning on the door but not opening it, not yet. 'what is going on?' you ask carefully. 'i'm getting anxious here, ji, don't do this to me.'

jihoon knows how bad you are with situations like that, knows that your anxiety skyrockets when you have no idea what is happening. last thing he wants is to make you worried though, so with a sigh he unlocks the door, letting you in. he saw his reflection in the mirror and is aware of how black eye contrasts with his pale skin, but when he catches look of pure shock on your face, he thinks maybe he underestimated his skills of using concealer. 'um,' he starts unsurely. 'sorry, i don't have my own makeup so i took your concealer without asking first.'

that brings you back as you sputter, stepping closer to him with worried eyes. 'wha- you think that's what i care about right now?' you ask indignantly and with careful hands you take a hold of his face. 'baby, what happened? who did this to you?'

jihoon doesn't really want to answer this question. he knows it's very justified but he can't tell you that some guys at work were making stupid jokes about his relationships and one of them took it too far. he normally can't care less of what people think but not when it comes to you; he's not proud of how he handled it, but he doesn't regret sticking up for you against others. looking at your eyes that are slowly starting to fill up with tears, jihoon knows that he'll fight however many guys on this planet because you are his diamond and he won't let anyone speak badly about you. out loud he says only: 'you should see the other guy. this,' he motions to his black eye, 'is nothing compared to how he looks now.'

it's not enough to ease your worries but it does make you laugh and spal his shoulder. 'jihoon!' you shake your head. 'don't even try to cover it up with jokes. oh god, it looks horrible,' you lean closer, inspecting his face. 'oh baby. what happened? are you okay? should we go to the hospital?'

your sweetness washes over him and jihoon smiles, tugging you closer. 'no need, i'm good. just got this black eye and that's it. and we just- misunderstood each other.'

you raise your eyebrow at this. 'you're not type of guy who punches first and asks questions later. what happened, baby?'

jihoon glances at the bag on the floor and smiles. 'did you got us something on the way home?'

you turn, smiling. 'yeah, tacos from our favorite place. wait, don't try to distract me mister, tell me-'

'i am starving,' jihoon interrupts and leans in, pecking your lips. 'you know what can really help me right now? will make me feel better? you on my lap while we're eating our favorite tacos. hm? can we do that, angel?'

jihoon knows that you're tactful enough to know when not to push, but he can see battle happening in your eyes. at last you decide to let it go for now, letting him pull you to the kitchen. jihoon easily wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you on his lap, ignoring your squeak of protest. 'thank you for the tacos, baby,' he mutters, kissing your shoulder. 'you're the best.'

'mhm,' you turn to him, wiggling a little until you get comfortable. 'we will talk anyways, ji. just not now.'

jihoon nods. not now is enough. he was so distraught when he came back home that having you like this is truly the only thing that can make him feel better. he hugs you tighter and leans with his forehead on your back. 'tell me about your day, baby. please,' he asks quietly.

your hand finds his and you giving it a squeeze before starting to recount everything what happened with you today. jihoon feels tension leave his body at the sound of your voice and your body close to him. when you absentmindedly start caressing his hand, he smiles. yeah, he's very okay with getting into fights on your behalf. you deserve it.

a/n: hopefully you liked it, let me know! <3 - nini

request your own here

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina - thank you so much for your content. I'm new to this fandom (another mid-30s, new to 1d after Liam, back on Tumblr after 15 years lol) and this account is helping a ton w/ wading through the history. Wanted to ask - are there any receipts that you consider pretty definitive or reliable (for whatever reason - curious how you personally evaluate them)? And an earlier ask talked about Roman Kemp / industry insiders who know about Larry - anyone in particular you would put on the list? TY!!

Hi, sugar. Welcome to the fandom. Let me think...

I'll start with the easier one; besides Roman, other people I'm fairly sure know about Harry's personal life are people like Nick Grimshaw, Olly Murs, James Corden, Ed Sheeran, Steve Aoki, Ben Winston, Charlie Lightning, Alessandro Michele, people on their teams who've known them for ages (like Harry Lambert, Molly Hawkins, Helene Horlyck, Paul Roberts, Oli, etc). Beyond that, I'm sure there are other famous people who know them as a couple, but I can't think of any off the top of my head who have let it slip. There were various people in the fandom back before they all went solo who worked in various aspects of the industry and had said it was an open secret among people as they'd heard colleagues mention it.

As for receipts, some I believe just because they're such random little nothing receipts that just feel real, like when Louis bought some art for Harry for his birthday. The yes, of course, always receipt. There’s the one from the former anti whose grandma happened to host HL in her tiny New Zealand hotel. I know Gabi grilled the person who talked to her about it and I know she was persistent. The Jamaica receipt was from someone outside the fandom and it just made sense because of the details and the timing. The practically married receipt was from a fandom friend of mine. She's not even a larrie anymore but never has come back to debunk this or say it was a lie. The Olly Murs receipt I linked above. It just fits with so many things we've heard from so many other receipts about them in the early days. I spent a while speaking to the person who sent the Copenhagen receipt and eventually spoke to them off anon as well. Their details just seemed legit.

I think @awesomefringey made a post not too long ago of her favorite receipts. Maybe she can link it here.

[angelsdvsts]

sweet little affirmations since it's the day of love & i adore y'all so bad... i hope each and everyone of you have a lovely day ♡

♡ might be in la la la love ~ sweet baby angels that i annoy way too much who literally have my entire heart ??

♡ @drcamsx - my sweet lil anna , we've been with each other for so long n i literally adore you to pieces <3 our bbs will forever be special to me & i literally developed a reading addiction bc of you so heh <333 ♡ @unraptures - helloo, timezones will always be the death of us, but i will never stop screaming about how absolutely feral our bbs are?? adore you so much, sweetpea! <3 n love how much entertainment you bring me on the daily whether its about coworkers (lol) or our bbs <3 ♡ @slumpcd - pfft... remember when i was so scared to interact w/ you now i literally annoy you on the daily? bwahah, i love writing with you sm, it seriously makes my shitty days better! ♡ @shcrtnsweet - my love!! literally adore all the concepts that we come up with, the four core will never be stopped <3 love love love writing & blabbing about literally anything w/ you <3 ♡ @swtsours - no way to explain how each one of our ships always have me giggling and kicking my feet??? i swear, i literally be grinning ear to ear while typing replies <3 ♡ @cravemore - i will forever love every single thing you throw at me, literally gagged @ your writing every single time -- also can't believe how many beautiful bbs we have together <3 ♡ @tumkink - hi hi hi !! despite us recently just interacting + talking, i enjoy blabbing on about our muses sm !! literally brings me joy throughout my boring day at work <3 ♡ @candiedstrwb - come jump in my pocket rn <3 keeping you in my heart forever and ever. literally love love love the thousands of threads we have going on n you're fr on my mind all the time <3

♡ hope you know how proud i am you were created ~ angels who i just think are absolutely amazing & i adore everything we have <3

♡ @emotionlcss - will never stop screaming about our well developed bbs & the new ones that will come <3 seriously just love blabbing with you! ♡ @brckensociety - i'm pretty sure you are my oldest follower. . . which is kinda insane to say??? literally adore you so so much, you've been through sm and you're still here entertaining me with your bbs, so ty <3 ♡ @gracland - the way we only have two threads but those bbs own my life, i absolutely love them and enjoy writing with you sm ! you're such a joy to write with & i love screaming about our bbs together. ♡ @thursdaygrl - our ships are so good every time, it's so crazy?? literally could pick up right where we left off like neither of us disappeared n i love that :') <3 ♡ @everseens - each and every one of our ships are so chefs kiss, pls the power we have <3 heh love love writing with you <3 ♡ @sevcnminutcs - love how we are able to just keep adding more muses onto our already huge list?? it's just amazes me how we can just keep adding more and more heh <3 ♡ @cardigaen - your writing is just too skilled for me tbh, but i love everything you give :') <3

♡ if i told you how much i think about her you'd think i was in love ~ angels i always see on my dash n love to interact w/ more <3 whether we have previous threads, ongoing threads, or none just know that i'm adoring all y'all from afar <3

@nepotizm , @angelvings , @whorifics , @svftlove , @harshlxve , @whileurmine , @seriallcver , @lovedrunked , @pcrtrait , @cocained , @cheatcodcs , @pinkpcny , @malboraslihan , @pureshoney , @atgvnpoint , @popcultr , @deviiates , @poetsprophecy

[siphonophoresupernumerary]

Poison/Rock Fish. Well there's many shapes of fish out there, which could be rock and could be poison. Most commonly water/fish pokemon are water/ground instead of water/rock. It's possible that this poison/rock fish is something like a mudskipper in that it lives a lot on land, though a lungfish sometimes lives within it. I'll make a list of all the aquatic pokemon with each type

Poison: Qwilfish/Overqwil (Pufferfish) Tentacool/Tentacruel (Jellyfish) Mareanie/Toxapex (Anemone? Brittle Star?) Paldean Wooper/Clodsire (Axolotl, Salamander)

Rock: Omanyte/Omastar (Ammonite) Kabuto/Kabutops (Horseshoe Crab) Corsola (Coral), Lileep/Cradilly (Sea Lily/Crinoid) Anorith/Armaldo (Anomalocaris/Sea Scorpion) Relicanth (Coelacanth) Tirtouga/Carracosta (Sea Turtle) Binacle/Barbaracle (Barnacle) Dreadnaw (snapping turtle)

The only pokemon that are poison/rock type are Glimmet, Glimmora, and Nihilego. Most of these aren't fish even in a loose sense. A lot of them are fossil pokemon. In that case I'd love to make/be another fossil pokemon!

Aerodactyl (pterodactyl, rock/flying) Cranidos/Rampardos (pachysephalosaurus rock) Shieldon/Bastiodon (protoceratops, rock/steel) Archen/Archeops (archeopteryx rock/flying) Tyrunt/Tyrantrum (tyranosaurus, rock/dragon) Amaura/Aurorus (sauropod, rock/ice) Drake/Bird/Fish/Dino (raptor/bird/dunkleosteus/therapod, dragon/electric/water/ice)

So we're looking for an ancient poisonous fish. Unfortunately poison doesn't keep well in stone, so if we've discovered poisonous fish we can't yet tell yet. Hope is not lost! We can assign poison typing to an ancient fish (no mammals are electric). And I've the King's Pick of ancient fish.

Helicoprion, edestus, dunkleosteus, jawless fish, placoderms, acanthodians, cartilaginous fish, bony fish, sarcopterygians...

I'm picking Dunkleosteus. Rocky-faced, I think there's Rocky growths on top of dunkleosteus' armored face, high defense, low speed. When taking enough damage the rocks come off, raising the speed, lowering defense, and oozing a poisonous film from the seams in the armor.

Probably really bad in the ocean, with a weakness to water, but good in a lot of other places

pokèmonize yourself!!!!

spin this wheel to see your pokemon type

spin this one to see how you'll look like

[laurencem]

Happy Valentines Day, @daynascullys !

IT IS I, YOUR SECRET ADMIRER 😍 Many moons ago, you asked me to make you an MSR playlist, and this seems like the perfect moment to follow through on that promise. I can't guarantee that it's as spectacular (or artistic) as those you've already created, but these songs all hold a special place in my heart, so I hope you love them as much as I do.

(warning: squee-ing ahead)

🔷🔹Hummingbird (The Weepies)🔹🔷

I think I've shared this song with you before, but it was the FIRST thing that came to mind when you mentioned a playlist. It's the Mulder-iest thing that ever Muldered. He may wander and drift, but there's only one place he wants to be at the end of the day, and that's with her. ❤️

Hold out your hand Yours is the only one that I dare to land upon...

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: The Unnatural

🔷🔹Mystery (Indigo Girls)🔹🔷

This was my squealing fangirl tune of choice back in the day. I want them to walk off into the sunset with this in the background. I want it to be the soundtrack for slow Saturday morning sex. I want it to play at the wedding reception that they don't have because they get married in a grove of trees with only an officiant present, but that's a headcanon for another day.

Maybe that's all that we need, is to meet in the middle of impossibility We're standing at opposite poles, equal partners in a mystery

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: Amor Fati

🔷🔹Elsewhere (Sarah McLachlan)🔹🔷

It's the late 90's and wee baby Yeti is in her bedroom, headphones on, writing terrible fanfiction, playing this on repeat. It's an Emo!Scully anthem with impeccable OG run vibes. WHERE MY MAGGIES AT, YO 🙌

But I love the way you smile at me I love the way your hands reach out and hold me near I believe, I...

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: all things

🔷🔹This Is Why I Need You (Jesse Ruben)🔹🔷

In my head this is just wedding vows. I won't quote the whole thing, just go listen, but THIS, your honor. THIS.

You make my crazy feel normal every time

They're both so WEIRD but they're so PERFECT for each other I can't EVEN (bolts for the feelings cave)

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: Je Souhaite

🔷🔹Skin (Chris Trapper)🔹🔷

I’ll be kissing you when you take your last gasp of air?  Mulder-coded.  If you break in two or turn into a skeleton, I’ll give you my skin?  Mulder-coded.  You were covered in tubes in a hospital bed, I said I will love you still?  Mulder-coded. Fuck me ALL the way up.

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: Redux II

🔷🔹The First Taste (Fiona Apple)🔹🔷

Girl. You could have HAD IT. You could have HAD IT ALL if your dumbass situationship hadn't FUCKING. PANICKED. IN. DETOUR. IN THIS ESSAY I WILL (I am forcibly dragged away)

I do not struggle in your web because it was my aim to get caught But daddy long legs, I fear that I'm finally growing weary Of waiting to be consumed by you

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: Detour

🔷🔹Why Can't I? (Liz Phair)🔹🔷

Here we go, we’re at the beginning We haven’t fucked yet but my head’s spinning

The way this song had a CHOKEHOLD on me as I devoured every bit of MSR fanfic I could find in the years following the OG finale. Yes, girl, you love him. Get yours.

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: Tooms

🔷🔹When You Go Away (The Weepies)🔹🔷

I really didn't want to include any band/artist twice on this list... but every time I hear this song, I picture Mulder anxiously awaiting Scully's return from a weekend trip out of town. Or the office. Or the grocery store. Or the mailbox.

Take me with you this time, won't you, won't you? Don't make me miss you this time, don't you, don't you... We're so much better together, don't you think? I do...

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: Chinga

🔷🔹You and Me on the Rock (Brandi Carlile)🔹🔷

Revival vibes for DAYS. They've done it all, they've seen it all, they don't need anything except each other. (Also: Brandi is a goddess, no notes.)

I'll build my house up on this rock, baby, every day with you There's nothin' in that town I need after everything we've been through Me out in my garden and you out on your walk is all the distance this poor girl can take without listening to you talk I don't need their money, baby, just you and me on the rock

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: Babylon (HA. YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID IT. TWO CAN PLAY AT THIS GAME, GIRL)

🔷🔹Turning (Sea Caves)🔹🔷

Another revival song.  While there is SO much about this one that captures middle-aged MSR (my beloved,) this particular line is deliciously hopeful:

In time we saw we′d drifted far enough Turned to let it go and start anew

📺 Suggested Episode Pairing: Plus One

This list was SO much fun to put together - I hope you enjoy it! Shout out to @calimanc for helping me make sure the vibes were just right 😘

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I saw your one post about Yuu getting super powers. I don't think it's very likely as well. I think it's largely thanks to western storytelling expectations and tropes for the western audience.

In a lot of western YA or Middle Grade books, the protagonist in a fantasy series will start off as ordinary, standing out and never fitting in. It turns out that they are indeed special and powerful in their own right. Think Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Clary Fray, and the list goes on and on.

There are also times when the protagonist is forced to change forms literally to become more powerful. For example, Feyre from ACOTAR starts out as a simple human. But then, she is killed off, and then is brought back to life as a High Fae. Same goes for Bella from Twilight where she dies during childbirth to a demon spawn, and then she is transformed into a vampire.

Western audiences are expecting something similar to happen. But, it's not very likely due to "main character" and individualism not being as much of a thing in East Asia. I've never seen as many stories like that from Japan as I have from the west out of all of my years of being a manga/anime fan.

Although, having said that, Yuu is still something to be desired writing wise. I still wish that Yuu had more of an impact on the plot and had more personality than a tuna can. I don't expect them to be a fully fledged character on par with the rest of the cast. Even other otome and JRPG self inserts like Persona 5 I feel are better written than them, because they matter more and the dialogue choices impact the game more. They are the main character. Act like it!

[Referencing this post!]

There's certain genres of animanga that have those power fantasy/wish fulfillment tropes that we see in western media. A big one that comes to mind are fantasy isekais where the main character tends to be a weirdo or a loner that's actually super powerful/smart and quickly amasses a group of doting anime girls to fawn over him (although now isekai is much more diversified as a genre). It's definitely not just something exclusive to western media, although I will say maybe it's more prevalent in the west (again, due to differences in cultural values).

I feel like we need to remember that Twst is ultimately Japanese media, so it will most likely default to Japanese storytelling conventions and trends, not western ones. While it's fine to wish for a different version of events or to dislike the current version, we should be careful to not let personal frustrations turn into demands to cater to those wishes.

I will say that I've noticed the localization attempts to give Yuu more... character? Many of Yuu's dialogue options are written to be more sarcastic than they originally were. The JP dialogue options are much more neutral. Here are some examples from book 1 alone:

After fighting some mob students in the cafeteria, Yuu has "Even though we were just told to not get into fights" and "I thought we were done for..." as options. In EN, Yuu's options are, "What happened to 'no more incidents'?" and "I guess this is my life now. *Sigh*". You can see how Yuu reads as sassier or more fed up in the latter, even if the same overall message is conveyed.

When seeing Jack for the first time, Yuu's Japanese options are "He has dog ears!?" and "A muscular guy with dog ears is a new sight". In EN, the top option is basically the same, but the second option becomes "Muscly dog man, sure why not."

Other dialogue options change entirely. For example, when Leona threatens to claim a tooth as retribution for Yuu stepping on his tail, our options are, "EEEEEH!!" and "H-He's going to hit us!" EN's options become much more humorous, with Yuu either claiming "Please! I don't have dental insurance!" or "I can't afford to pay anything!"

These are just a few examples, and not even all of the dialogue options in book 1 that exemplify what I’m talking about. I hope that this helps illustrate what I mean!

I think it can be argued that Yuu does have an impact on the plot, but the way the story is written doesn’t grant them much agency. There are points where Yuu makes decisions of their own volition but then the story never commits to letting them be entirely independent. For example, a lot of players like book 3 because they feel it is when Yuu is the most involved in the story. They make the decision to make a deal with Azul, and then they contribute to figuring out a way to outwit him—but then in later books, Yuu basically stands there doing nothing (lookin’ at you specifically, book 5). Yuu also doesn’t get to spend a lot of alone time with the characters to actually… I don’t know, influence their change and growth? Their activity and involvement is just wildly inconsistent. I have my own gripes with how Yuu is written and proposed my own ideas for how I would change them. If you’re interested in reading that, the post is here.

It might not be the best to compare Yuu to otome and JRPG self inserts 💦 In otomes (or general dating sims; I’d like to be inclusive of my non-women audience), romance is the primary objective. Of course the self-insert player character will be the center of the story and the one that the other characters will revolve around. JRPGs are typically console games; they have more bandwidth to go bigger and be more ambitious with their stories + gameplay than your average visual novel style mobile gacha game. (I specify “average” because I know there are now open world and 3D style gacha games.) The story of every game is also different and might call for different kinds of main characters to most effectively tell us its tale. Having an active main character isn’t needed for every story, and nor does having an active character automatically make a story better.

I’ve noticed that we commonly conflate the terms “main character” and “protagonist”, especially when it comes to Yuu. To clarify, the “main character” is the one whose perspective the story is primarily told (ie our POV character). A “protagonist” is who the story is actually about, the person who drives the story forward. “Protagonists” are the ones facing challenges and undergoing significant change in the story. A “main character” and a “protagonist” may be the same person, but they could also be separate people.

Yuu may be the “main character” in the sense that we see the story mainly through them (as someone who is brand new to Twisted Wonderland, much like the player is). This makes Yuu an excellent sponge and prompter for lore and explanations to be dropped on us. However, I don’t think that Yuu is also a “protagonist” for most of the game. I would say that the protagonists are the main cast of NRC students, especially the OB boys. These are the characters the story truly centers on, and this is reflected across events and vignettes as well. Yuu appears in very few vignettes and is often a footnote conveniently dragged along on events. So much of Twst’s content revolves around the boys, their relationships to one another, and how they develop and better themselves. Does Yuu play a part in that, no matter how minor? Yes. Does Yuu also form friendships with these boys? Also yes. But this is not the bulk of game content, nor what most of the conflicts or solutions focus on. So 💦 Yuu definitely “acts like a main character” (ie being the lens we view the story through), but doesn’t “act like a protagonist” (ie is active in the story and pushes it forward, is the one that significantly changes, etc).

[wanderingblindly]

HELLO LIQUID!! So much congrats on your milestone!! 💕💕 could I please ask for a curse of obedience fic with pairing of your choosing? ☺️

HELLOOOOO LOVELY!!!!! And thank you so sosoossoosososo much!! I couldn't decide who i wanted to pair together for this, so i just made everyone cursed and let the grid decide :))) enjoy a little bit of grid chaos + norapinto <3333 Celebratory prompt list here!

Truth or Dare

"Well, I'm not playing," Lando rolls his eyes, settling into a spot against the wall, arms crossed. "Oscar, tell me I can't play."

"You can't play," Oscar repeats immediately, groaning once he's done. "Mate, you can't –"

"He's playing," Alex claps a hand on Oscar's shoulder, that irritating mischievous smile on his lips. "Tell him he's playing."

"You're playing." Oscar parrots, trying to shrug off Alex's hand. "Can you both stop –"

The emptied out steward's room is buzzing with chatter, the entire grid shoved inside and locked in unceremoniously.

Charles and Carlos accidentally made each other unable to speak by shouting commands at the same time, argument devolving to close-lipped yelling and flailing hands; Lewis and Valtteri have hidden themselves in the corner, content to watch the younger grid members chase each other about like terrors. Franco has latched himself onto Checo, speaking a mile a minute in Spanish – seemingly not spurred on my any order.

And George, watching from the center of it all, claps his hands loudly.

"Right then, everyone quiet down!"

The room falls dead silent, everyone turning to look at him with murder in their eyes.

He winces. "Didn't mean to order everyone, sorry." He doesn't, notably, revoke his command. "Alex had a great idea –" Lando smacks Alex in the chest, harder than necessary but softer than he wanted. "That we play a game of truth or dare."

Lewis flashes George a middle finger as Fernando simultaneously gives a thumbs up from the opposite side of the room; their eyes catch, Lewis rolling his and Fernando smiling with a few too many teeth.

"I'll command you all of the rules, then Alex will do the same to me. Does that sound fair?"

Pierre's tapping away on his phone, holding it up for the room to read: opened to a blacked-out Instagram story, the words "WHO MADE YOU KING?" in bold white font.

Esteban holds his phone up in turn: "PRESIDENT**"

Pierre types furiously: "HE'S BRITISH THEY HAVE A KING"

Esteban rolls his eyes before responding: "OF THE UNION BOUFFON"

George sighs exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Everyone, put your phones by the door. Face down. Alex, tell me to do the same."

"Put your phone by the door." Alex says, already moving mechanically towards the door with the rest of the drivers, phone ready in hand.

----

"Ground rules," George says, standing int he middle of the circle he instructed – forced – them to sit in, neatly paired by teammates. "We're all going to play truth or dare, all of us." He flashes a look towards Lando, glowering next to Oscar and his constant state of mild disinterest. "Each person will get to ask one other driver one thing. No double questions. All topics are fair game, but nothing we say he can leave this room. That is all an order. Alex, repeat it back to me."

Alex does as he's told, the rest of the grid in various states of disarray. Yuki looks giddy – probably ready to torment Pierre in whatever ways he's cooked up; Liam seems two seconds away from throwing up – intimately aware that he's the newest of the bunch with the fewest cards in hand; Max keeps looking at Charles like they can communicate telepathically, maybe plotting a way to overthrow George, possibly trying to threaten each other with the worst dares imaginable.

And through that is Franco, looking at Lando like there's something he really wants to tell him.

Which isn't terribly surprising; Franco always looks like he wants to tell someone something – it's sort of his entire thing.

George claps again – the irritating git – before opening the floodgates. "Let's play!"

----

They're all sitting in silence again, willingly.

Pierre told Yuki to admit who his favorite teammate had been; he said that he found them all equally annoying.

Esteban told Pierre to show off his hairline; Lewis laughed a little too hard, resulting in Valtteri forcing him to confess to a Turkish vacation some time in the 2010s.

Charles smugly demanded Max name the driver he felt was the biggest threat – to which he immediately replied "no one".

The entire circle had exploded into uproar; Charles insisting that Max was lying, that he clearly found a loophole because George "had been foolish and not demanded honesty"; Carlos saying that Red Bull was going to blow the constructors as is, so maybe Checo was the real threat; Checo told him to go fuck himself, chucking his hat and completely missing; and Lando, looking with fire in his eyes, bit his tongue.

"Big of you," Oscar whispers under his breath, resisting a smile.

"Fuck off," He hisses, not willing to admit that he was keeping anything back. He knows that he can beat Max; he's beaten him already this season. If Max wants to keep his head in the sand and not admit that, if he thinks he's above all of them, that's not his –

"Lando, Lando, Lando," Carlos smiles at him, eyes glimmering like the devil.

Fuck, Max might not be his problem.

"The most handsome driver on the grid, you are going to give him a kiss."

Carlos is.

"No." Lando says, already rising up to his feet with his consent. "Carlos, that's not – that's not what we're meant to do, right George?" He drags his feet, weak to stop them.

"It's his choice," George is grinning, just shy of rubbing his hands together like a fucking fly. "Who're you gonna snog, mate?"

"I'm not –" He looks over his shoulder at Oscar – trying to tell him to command he stop. But his tongue freezes, unable to go against the ground rules George had set. He's drawing nearer to Alex, sat just on the other side of the circle, who looks like he's about to burst into laughter.

His voice has gone pitched with hysterics, "Lando, mate, what're you –"

"Shut the fuck up," Lando grits, face running so hot he can feel his pulse in his cheeks. "It's not you, bastard. Fuck you, actually, this was all your fucking –"

Lando's traitorous feet stop, shins bumping into Franco's knees – sat with his feet tucked like an excited child. His head whips up, eyes wide. "Wh–"

"I dunno, mate," Lando sighs, trying to hide his embarrassment behind a facade of… something better. Before he can say anything else, his body lurches forward, hands reaching for Franco's jawline and forcing him to sit up a little straighter, to tilt his head as Lando presses their lips together.

The room bursts into chaos, the command melts away – but Franco slides his tongue into Lando's mouth before he loses the chance.

[sorin-sunchild]

Transphobes do very much want trans men dead though. This is still very much a thing they want. Trans men are in fact murdered by transphobes. See, your average queerphobe either wants us to never, ever, come out of the closet or to just be dead. We are not people to these bigots. We are problems which need to be gotten rid of, and very few have the imagination to think of 'fixing' us when killing us or otherwise preventing us from being is much easier. If they do extend their vision to 'fixing us' be it for gender or sexuality, it's very often violent and can/does still lead to death in many cases.

It's not about 'which kind of trans person they think is more dangerous' you get real for a second. Bigotry does not work like that. They're not tier-listing the different genders and targetting us one by one. We're all dangers to them. They don't like the fake rules they set up around sex/gender being broken. They will use any angle they've got to convince more people that whatever they do to oppress us is a good thing because we're all dangerous.

The detransitioning angle for example. It's insincere (insofar as they don't actually care about us and want to 'help' us even in a misguided way) and never represented correctly in these silly discourses. They don't want to specifically detransition trans men only due to viewing us as somehow more special, more pure, more worthy of being alive or something.

They'd happily detransition ALL trans people (why do you think trans women in prisons and other institutions are regularly denied HRT? this is an attempt to detransition them!) if they could. Misogyny just makes 'precious little girls mutilating themselves when they just need help' and/or 'misled Autistic (code for 'stupid' to them) girls being convinced because of Patriarchy that they have to be men' (really gets the radfems) the easiest and most effective angle to take against trans men/mascs and AFAB transneu and nonbinary people.

But you see all trans men reach a threshold in which we're not precious ickle girls any more, in which we too are just predatory wannabe women-men convincing other little girls to multilate themselves (by virture of openly existing) as well as trying to turn straight girls into lesbians but also trying to turn gay men into straight men. We reach that threshold when we get to a stage in our transition where they see us as lost causes (i.e. can no longer be controlled and convinced to detransition and haven't been murdered yet), just another kind of inherently predatory gender freak.

As for the drag ban which yes, did disproportionately effect trans women/femmes as well as cis drag queens, this was done for much the same reason. Many people believe that men are inherently sexual predators, and any behaviour that they can paint as 'deviant' or 'weird' is therefore easily seen to support this idea. Transphobes pick the angles that work but they hate us all equally.

Neither the young trans man nor the young trans woman being sent to conversion therapy is worse or better off than the other - it really doesn't matter the specific reasons and fears the transphobes who sent them there have.

We're all corrupted forms of our assigned gender to these people. If we can't be 'convinced' to 'stop all this nonsense' or 'corrected' into 'accepting the truth' then we are part of the problem, we're predators, we're cult members spreading dangerous 'gender ideology', each targetting a specific sex of child (because 'think of the children' logical falacy is so popular with transphobes) and we're all better off dead to them.

So yeah, I really don't know where anyone got the idea that transphobes don't want to and don't kill trans men. They don't treat different kinds of trans people that differently. They very much do murder trans men and a great many of us get written down as murdered women and buried as such which might be why you hear about it a lot less. It is very much happening though.

"Trans men aren't targeted by anti trans rhetoric and law."

Trumps executive order to ban gender affirming care mainly fearmongers about trans boys not being able to give birth or breast feed and calls transitional surgery "female genital mutilation".

When we say we are invisible, it's not that we are invisible to the people who hate us. It's that our struggles are invisible to the people who should be advocating for us.

[theharmonious13]

Guys hear me out (this is a YouTube animatic/animation community deepcut I think??? At least for me it is)

🎵 Two Birds on a Wire 🎵

Kamimura and Hasegawa

"One tries to fly away" - Kamimura

"And the other watches him close from that wire" - Hasegawa

It summarises their relationship PERFECTLY

I can already imagine scenes now in my head. Kamimura branching out to Tamba, Mai etc. while Hasegawa watches him quietly in the background clinging to his one and only friend. And then literally every single

And the song is symbolic of so many things, ranging from Kamimura's more outgoing nature to his character development in finding a reason to live/future plans outside the killing game. Meanwhile Hasegawa is very introverted and closed off, he's reluctant to leave his room before and after Kamimura's death, deep down he wants to follow in Kamimura's confident footsteps but can't get himself to. Especially when they split up for the first time during the killing game :3

~~~

Other duos this would work for in my head (in chronological order of how passionate I feel about the ideas):

Tsuno and Wada: Literally their whole screentime together. As Wada struggles in countless ways throughout the chapters while Tsuno "tries to fly away" by being super duper helpful to the group OR by opening the woodshop door. Perfect duality by having Wada reluctantly not open the door, and Tsuno hyping him up in her final moments :3

Okazaki and Watari: Their differences and friendship exemplified, the sadness and bittersweetness of them having fun together as Okazaki does fucked up things to Wada and the others in the background. Watari having her final moments with Okazaki saying how she hates her, and breaking down at their unmistakable differences in morals. I love how both characters were bold in personality, but Okazaki was on a different level of existence to everyone else, and how she was delusional/thought that playing the role of a villain would solve all of her problems. I would be evil and draw Watari looking through glass at Okazaki's final moments of her being filled up with gold :3

Sasaki and Yanagi: Case 1 Angst mainly highlighting their estranged relationship in Chapter 1 and how they technically work together in the trial before Yanagi has to spit out the horrifying truth. Imagine Yanagi's face as Sasaki gets executed, and wanting to know why she used him afterwards. So much delicious angst, I love it hehe

Hama and Chiba: a HUGE commentary of Chiba's life during the killing game, how she's reluctant to live a normal life because she feels she's unable to. And Hama living his life with kindness/confidence while trying to get Chiba to do the same. Before something unfortunate and heartbreaking happens to Chiba regarding a certain tiger :3

Mai and Yanagi: Mainly an End Chapter 3/Beginning Chapter 4 recap following their interactions and fight regarding unlocking the door. Mai literally tries to break down the door out in the open while Yanagi tries to pick the lock in secret. If that doesn't scream the duality of these two/the song I don't know what does. Also them making plans together, being glad to have each other's company

Isono and Wada: Mainly a fun little recap of their relationship transformation, from streamer/viewer/parasocial to friends. It's a great way to highlight chapter 1 Wada too, he's very closed off and reluctant to get help from what I remember, you can even pan forwards to Tsuno's death/Chapter 4 Wada to see how angsty is he/far he's come. OR close it off with Wada talking to Isono quietly/in solidarity in her room. Or omg, breaking the PC when Wada finds out about the reward :333333

*Always assume for the above that the first person listed is "one tries to fly away" and person two is "and the other"

For example: Kamimura (Person 1) and Hasegawa (Person 2)

~~~

I feel so passionately about it being for Hasemura but this song resonates with so many of the cast duos it's unreal

[rustedleopard]

Miscellaneous list of headcanons that I have for my "Clover Lives In the Underground Instead of Sacrificing Themself" AU

(Starlo and Clover/Wild East edition)

Starlo refers to Clover as his "golden hearted deputy," both in reference to their kind nature and also a cheesy pun because their SOUL is literally "golden hearted" (but sssh. Starlo is literally a shooting star, cheesy puns are his thing because he is a pun). This term of endearment embarrasses Clover every time he says it.

In general, Starlo is the sort to heap on praise when he's talking about Clover. All of their friends have something nice they can say about Clover but Starlo is the one that will boast the most to the point that Clover gets embarrassed enough to walk away or hide their face in their hands. While they like that Starlo has nice things to say about them, he lays it on way too thick. It's overwhelming.

Starlo is still the #1 cowboy though. That never changes.

I hc that Clover has terrible stage fright so unfortunately they are unable to do the big LARPs/performances that Starlo and the Feisty Four do. If they notice too many people watching them, they will freeze up. Over time, they manage to overcome it enough to do smaller one-on-one performances/acts for small groups but they can't handle a performance where the whole town is watching. They're Starlo's stage hand and work behind the scenes during those.

Their character is the "strong and silent type" to accommodate how not talkative they are.

In order to get into character, Clover puts a stalk of wheat between their lips and that's it. It took them ages to stop instinctively eating the wheat though.

Starlo and Clover are both really into cowboys and Westerns, which is fantastic! Unfortunately, the tape labeled "0/10 Don't watch this one :(" in the Feisty Five shack is Clover's favorite movie. Ah, the pain of having the same passion as someone but different tastes! (They still agree on most things about westerns, but the debates when they disagree on a finer point/on what they like? Woof. Who knew things could get so intense between two nerds?)

Despite wielding a gun, Clover has no experience with other western things. The last time they rode a horse was during a Renaissance fair that was hosted in their town when they were 5-6. They don't know how to make a lasso. Stuff like that. Starlo is more than enthused to give Clover special deputy lassons.

Starlo tried to host the first lasson at 4 in the morning. Clover was not happy with this. Every following lasson has taken place at a more reasonable hour.

While Starlo spends the most amount of time with Clover (out of the Five), all of the Feisty Four has spent time with Clover one-on-one. Each of them have taught Clover their own tricks/things.

Ed taught Clover how to juggle (I hc that Ed learned how to juggle when he was younger to teach himself dexterity with his huge hands and now he does it for fun).

Moray teaches Clover the guitar and they sometimes have private duets playing the guitar and harmonica together.

Ace teaches Clover sleight of hand, magic tricks, card games, and how to cheat at those card games.

Mooch teaches Clover how to pickpocket. While Clover has stolen stuff multiple times throughout the game, they didn't know how to swipe directly off people until Mooch taught them.

Martlet and Starlo alternate weeks on who has Clover. This schedule is flexible if the Royal Guard is getting suspicious, so sometimes Starlo/Martlet will get extra days with Clover if the RG is doing an investigation around Snowdin/The Dunes.

(Ceroba spends time with Clover when they're in the Wild East so it's not like they've forgotten about her entirely. I'll elaborate when it's Ceroba's time)

When Clover first started staying in the Wild East, the Royal Guard got called on them. A lot. Even though Starlo lies to try to cover up their presence ("You think Clover's a human? Nah, that's just their hat giving you that impression.") and talked to the regulars about keeping things hush (they're fine with keeping quiet because they like Starlo, they don't want to upset their sheriff, and Clover is a good kid), that doesn't deter everyone. It felt like almost every other day, the Royal Guard was showing up to capture the human and Starlo and the Four had to scramble to hide Clover somewhere.

List of places that Clover has been hidden (non-exhaustive): In pretty much every crate/barrel in the WE, in the rafters of the stables, behind the bar in the Saloon, locked up in jail and covered in blankets to hide their form, dropped in the Dunes well (one time), behind the curtains on the Saloon stage. It's gotten to the point that Clover went from "Oh no, the Royal Guard is coming!" to "Seriously, I gotta hide again? I just opened my root beer :(" They're used to contorting themself into a pretzel in order to fit into whatever thing that they're getting crammed into. Thankfully they're not claustrophobic.

Undyne eventually got frustrated with running down to the Wild East to handle the human she could never find (if they even exist) so she has cameras installed all throughout the Dunes. Starlo gathers up the Feisty Five and is like "Okay gang, our next mission is to take out every camera in the Dunes while also making it look like an accident 😀" Eventually cameras stop getting installed and she stops responding to most reports coming from the Dunes.

Starlo is legitimately a thorn in Undyne's side; she HATES him so much. Even post UT Pacifist when it comes out that Clover was living in the Wild East and Undyne can understand why he was so protective because she has Frisk and would die/kill for them, that doesn't stop him from being on her personal shit list.

Clover earns their own wage around the Wild East by doing odd jobs/helping Dina with serving customers (non-alcoholic) drinks/food when things get busy in the Saloon. Clover still has their sense of independence.

Starlo has his bar tab extended to include any of Clover's purchases regardless.

Clover joins in with Ceroba when it comes to teasing. They don't tease him nearly as much as she does and it's never mean-spirited. It's stuff like:

The Feisty(j) Five is now the Feisty(j) Five(+1). The "j" and "+1" are silent. The alliteration is preserved!

It really bothered Starlo for a while trying to come up with an alliteration to suit the six of them (the Supreme Six? The Spirited Six?) while also giving everyone in the intro their own part (Clover would obviously be "Justice" except that's Starlo's part). Eventually Clover was the one to point out that it's best that they aren't included because it'd make the Royal Guard suspicious since they can't show their face around the RG yet there's supposed to be six of them in the group if they're called "The [insert adjective here] Six." And while Starlo wants to have them included, unfortunately their reasoning for being excluded is sound.

Out of all of Clover's friends, Starlo is the most vocal about how unfair it is that Clover has to live in secret. They're a great kid, he wants to show them off, it's not fair that he has to hide them because other people want them dead for who they are.

Blackjack still respects Clover even though he can't stand the rest of the Five because Clover is always quiet and polite when they visit. The Five usually sends in Clover to do shopping for them because Blackjack is nicer to them, but it also creates a hilarious situation where Clover is walking in and out of the shop carrying messages for Starlo/Blackjack when they're bartering.

Starlo doesn't swear whenever Clover is around (true in canon btw. He only swears in the Flawed Pacifist ending). Clover, meanwhile, has no trouble with swearing.

Starlo and Clover have a bit of a dynamic in the Wild East where, if there's a problem and someone wants something done about it, it's best to go to Clover. But if someone wants to talk to someone about the problem, it's best to go to Starlo. Because Clover will fix that problem if you ask but they might look at you like you're an idiot if the reason why you got into trouble was very dumb (I just see Clover as kind but not nice, okay. I'm deeply attached to that interpretation of them). Meanwhile, Starlo would talk to you about addressing the problem and will get around to it, but he's a busy person so it might not be handled immediately/he's more likely to forget.

Even though Starlo can be too much at times and Clover finds themself rolling their eyes at some of his antics, they do trust him and look up to him. They're shy about admitting these things but they do love him a lot.

[hauntedradiotower]

I love characters who realize the error of their ways, and put in the work to change for the better. I also love characters who take back their agency from the world, declaring: “If all you see is a monster, I will become the worst one ever. I will haunt your dreams, and I’ll do it on my own terms. bitch” 

anyway, crazy that both things happened in Megamind