#this could have flowed WAY better but it is what it is

[yapileon]

@TacklerCulers: The Chaotic Teen Serie pt. 1

fcb femení x chaoticteen!reader (first fic, be gentle with me pls i'm embarassed, also, i have no idea why i wrote that.)

17yo La Masia defender gets promoted to the first team. Will you be able to keep your fcb femení fan account hidden while slowly making your place in the team with your idols?

While you had the tendency to be known as a cheeky chaotic teen, you currently felt anxious and shaky. You had spent three years working you ass off to be recognized in the La Masia training academy, it had paid off, since you were on the way to your first training with the senior team.

You're walking to the stadium when you feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket. You picked it up, smiling at the Mapi León wallpaper you had chosen weeks ago. You knew the pings had something to do with the meme you posted on your fan account, @TacklerCulers this morning.

tacklerculers

liked by 2,486 others

tacklersculers: Ona and The Flash have never been witnessed at the same place at the same time, just saying.

—

Like you thought, the meme was doing well, attracting multiples thousands likes from other woso fans. You couldn't help but giggle at the fact that today, you'd get to meet all of the barça squad. No, it was more than that, today, you'd get to become their teammates.

You were so excited when you had made it on the training pitch, you were the first aside from some of the training staff that you had greeted. You picked up a ball and started juggling, trying to get yourself in the flow. Except this is when you had spotted them walking to you.

Alexia, the captain of the best team in the world, and Mapi Leon, the arm-tape icon —and arguably your favorite player of all time—smiling brightly at you. You were so focused on them that you kicked the ball straight to your shin. Smooth.

"Doing good, rookie?" The defender had asked you with an amused look. Though her smile faded away when Alexia elbowed her in the ribs, frowning.

The sound you had made to answer was something between a hurried yes and a cat screeching. So you nodded profusely, not trusting your voice to not betray you again.

"Don't listen to her cariño," the blond had said softly, her hand on your shoulder, and at that moment you swore you could die, your life was complete.

"Big day today, sí?" the capitain added, dragging you toward the group of players who had started arriving.

You hoped you'd be able to find you voice again soon, otherwise today would only be a long and embarrassing day.

You waved to some of the players, high fiving Patri who seemed very happy to see a fellow La Masia made kid. You couldn't help but be star struck, looking around you you saw Irene Paredes. Wall of the team. And Ingrid Engen? Technically midfield goddess but honorary defender in your books. Really what would have the team done last season without her? You couldn't help but chuckle a bit seeing Ona, remember your meme from this morning, though you tried (and failed) to hide your laugh as a cough.

But then training started, and you were definitely better at football than introducing yourself, so you gave your all. You had warmed up with Ingrid, not like Mapi didn't try to get to you before but the Norwegian had dragged you with her, leaving the Spaniard pouting. You were definitely glad for Ingrid right now, you were sure if you had had to play with your idol right away, you would have somehow tripped on your own feet.

After the warm up, the real work started. You had been doing well, holding your own as much as you could against them, trying to time your tackles well, finding your grooves in your passes. You were playing a five-a-side when the incident happened. At some point, you had tried to nutmeg Alexia on a spur of the moment thing, and had blushed furiously when you had inevitably failed —leaving only Gemma to defend the goal. Which in itself was embarrassing enough, but you had recovered quickly, decided on fixing things, you had ran for your life, and somehow managed to kick the ball away from the goal line when Alexia took her shot.

Problem?

It has landed straight on Ingrid's back, hitting her at full strength.

Ingrid stumbled forward, gasping, and Mapi who was right next to her burst out laughing. You ran to them, mortified, half screaming a busted apology.

"Already trying to get rid of me?" The dark haired woman said, chuckling while rubbing her back.

You screamed, trying to defend yourself while slightly panicking. "What?! No. Ingrid I'm so sorry, it's the ball, I didn't-" you stopped yoursel.

It's the ball? Seriously?

Ingrid raised an eyebrow at you while her girlfriend was practically rolling on the grass from laughing too much.

"I think the ball did exactly what you wanted, little devil." the Norwegian had said smirking, leaving you audibly gasping.

"I- What?" You stumbled on your words "I'm an angel I would never willingly hurt another defender!" you added, gesturing.

Mapi, who was still holding onto her belly from how much she was laughing interrupted, "An Angel? You just tried to murder Ingrid with a football.”

You whined your disagreement, unaware that most of the team had stopped their training to watch you three arguing on the sideline, most with a smile on their lips. You heard Pina laughing in the background, saying something along the lines of you perfectly fitting in already. Alexia had made her way to you. Her voice surprised you when she spoke teasingly, "Would that mean that you'd willingly hurt someone who's not a defender?" You could see on the blonde faces that it was meant as a joke. You watched, half amused half desperate, as the three women burst out laughing at the face you made.

Thankfully for you, the Norwegian did not seem to hold a grudge for the way you had attacked her with the football, leaving the training session to continue.

It was the end of the day and you were making your way to the locker room when Mapi had ran to you. She ruffled your hair, putting her arm around your shoulder when she was satisfied, "You did good today kid, looks like you might have a nice future ahead of you."

Your mouth fell open, before you started scrambling to say thank you. You just couldn't believe Mapi of all people was the one to compliment you. All the team had welcomed you with open arms, pulling you in conversation, praising you when you did well, giving you tips when you were struggling. You always knew they were good people, but witnessing it first hand was leaving you a bit emotional.

You guessed your starstruck eyes were obvious when Frido, who was passing you to sit at her locker said, "Well, no need to ask who your favourite player is, uh?" You felt your body shrink in your seat and went straight back to blushing as the team giggled. After the first moment of embarrassment, you laughed with them.

You had behave fairly well, until you were presented with the perfect opportunity by Irene, feeling like the team had a good vibe, you decided to show a bit of mischief.

"So," Irene asked curiously, "what made you decide to be a defender?"

You froze for a second, your filter failing you, before smirking. "Because defenders are the hottest."

You saw Mapi nearly choke on her water while the whole team burst out laughing. And suddenly you felt very proud of yourself. You laughed with them while kicking away your cleats.

The tattooed Spaniard had recovered from her cough, tears in her eyes, "You're a cheeky thing, aren't you?"

You smiled, wiggling your eyebrows, "I mean… am I wrong?"

"No lies detected," Ingrid chimed in with a wink, making everyone laugh harder.

You leaned back into your locker, not believing how well you were going along with the team. That's when you saw Aitana giggling and grabbing Ona by the sleeve. "Look! Someone edited you on a The Flash meme!"

Uh oh.

[blueblossomrose]

can you do twst overblot boys with gn reader, who has furina and neuvilette's elemental skill and burst? Reader's fighting style is similar with furina's

Sorry for handing this in so late 😭 another year was so hard fr but I WILL deliver the aks, I swear

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shourd, Malleus Draconia.

Notes: GN!reader, bad english, swearing, more focused on Neuvilette than Furina.

Riddle Rosehearts:

I think Riddle would initially be impressed by your precision and discipline, since, like him, you seems to be an extremely focused and dedicated person to your own responsibilities.

He might feel a tinge of envy towards MC's combat style, especially if the movement flows and is as perfect as he would like his own conduct to be. This could even fuel him to further improve his skills and discipline.

Despite his initial slightly envy with MC's "theatrical" combat style, he couldn't help but admire MC's technical ability to control the hydro element and use this power strategically.

If Riddle were to develop a crush on MC, he would likely become nervous and somewhat embarrassed about his inability to act "properly" or "flawlessly" around MC, fearing that he would be seen as inadequate in comparison to MC's confidence and skill.

If someone criticized your fighting style, Riddle would likely become extremely protective, fervently defending the value of your skills. He would not tolerate unfounded criticism, especially if it involved someone he cared about.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona would have a grudging respect for MC's position as supreme judge. He does not easily admit admiration, but internally he would be impressed by the authority and presence that you possesses.

Leona, being who he is, couldn't resist making sarcastic or playful comments about your theatrical fighting style. Something like, "Are you going to dance or fight for real?" but with a smirk that suggests he's genuinely impressed.

During a battle, he would likely find herself mesmerized by MC's fluid, controlled movement, but would quickly hide any expression of fascination if anyone noticed.

He would likely respect and understand MC's introverted nature, considering he himself avoids unnecessary connections depending. He do likes you company too.

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul would be completely mesmerized by your theatrical and danceable way of fighting. He would probably think about how your elegant and calculating style reflects his own meticulous way of conducting business.

MC's combination of introversion and kindness would intrigue Azul. He would feel challenged to better understand how someone so distant in public can, at the same time, exude such confidence in his actions.

Watching MC struggle with tendencies and determination, Azul reflected on his own insecurities, feeling inspired to continue improving himself, both as a businessman and as a mage.

I personally don't think Azul would revel in your hydro abilities, since he doesn't exactly feel the need for contact with water. Well, unlike Jade and Floyd. They would want to jump into the water bubbles you can make.

Yet, he's clearly trying to win you over with his knowledge as a merfolk.

Jamil Viper:

I think Jamil would feel a deep admiration for the MC's skill and specialties, but true to his nature, would try to keep this admiration to himself, afraid to stand out or be obvious in his fascination.

He would notice a similarity between the MC's reserved personality and his own way of hiding talents, which would increase his attraction, as he probably would feel understood on a deeper level.

I guess your reserved and distant nature would intrigue Jamil, awakening in him the desire to understand what motivates you, since he himself hides his true personality.

When others commented on the MC's theatrics during combat, Jamil would be silent, but inwardly he would be smiling, appreciating that you manages to balance mastery and discretion with such grace.

Vil Schoenheit:

Now, Vil It's a different case. He would notice the dedication and rigor that you must have to master such an elegant fighting style, which would impress him deeply, as he values hard work above all else.

He find the contrast between MC's introversion and her confidence in battle intriguing and captivating. He would see it as a kind of inner beauty worth exploring.

He is definitely intrigued to know more about how you developed your combat style and would possibly research it in secret to better understand.

Despite being strict with others, Vil would display fierce protectiveness if anyone belittled or underestimated you.

Idia Shroud:

Idia would probably be obsessed with watching your battles from a distance (via his tablet) to avoid the social pressure of being present, but would be in awe of the elegant fighting style.

If he had the opportunity to speak to the MC in person after seeing your fight, Idia would be incredibly nervous, stuttering even more than usual and perhaps letting out awkward compliments such as, "Y-you... are like, a secret boss with a special animation... I mean, your fight is amazing!"

He would be torn between wanting to praise you and avoiding any kind of interaction so as not to embarrass himself, resulting in long internal dialogues about how to act.

As someone who enjoys drawing parallels with games, he would comment to Ortho that MC's hydro abilities are "perfectly balanced, but clearly skill-based, like that rare build you only see in speedruns."

Idia would probably think of every possible scenario to try to conquer MC, but would give up on 90% of them because he believed it would be "certain defeat without a save point."

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus would be enchanted by your theatrical and fluid style of combat. He might compare it to a dance, finding it deeply fascinating and harmonious.

He realize that although MC is introverted and quiet, your determination and focus when fighting demonstrate an inner strength that he deeply respects. It kind of reminds him of himself.

As someone who has mastered natural magic, Malleus would be intrigued by the your skill with Hydro, possibly considering it a rare talent worthy of reverence.

He notice that the MC maintains an impressive calm even during intense battles, something he would associate with his own serene and measured attitude.

Whenever you faced danger, Malleus would be in the shadows, ready to intervene if necessary.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Buzzing Static Burns The Silence Between My Ears

So, @lexthegremlin1 requested that I do a story about cat hybrid! König and Horangi taking care of a reader when dealing with ADHD/ADD. Funnily enough, I struggle with ADHD and autism, so I might have written this with a bit of an autistic take, so please forgive me. I find the two tend to entwine themselves inside me so it's hard to see one from the other. However, I did my best and I really like this story.

I've struggled writing lately, so writing this story really helped me. I hope it helps you all when dealing with an ADHD/ADD episode yourselves.

TWs: Panic attacks, over stimulation, ableism, people not understanding ADHD

Wordcount: 1.4k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Buzzing Static Burns The Silence Between My Ears

Your fingers buzzed with static currents. Your skin crawled with an army of invisible ants marching up and down your body in an endless march. You could hear the buzzing in the air. It was loud, so loud. Why was it loud? It wasn’t this loud before. It’s not supposed to be loud. It’s maddening but you can’t so much as orient your head to look around you. You’re locked in place like a cadaver to an examining table. You’re muscles ripple as currents flow from head to toe. You feel like you’re being born, you feel like you’re dying. It’s all throughout your body and you don’t know how to handle it.

You feel something under your touch. It’s a new feeling. This isn’t the metal of your pen. It’s not the plastic of your keyboard. It’s something… Soft. Soft? What’s soft in your apartment? You have your stuffed animals, but those are in your room. You’re in the living room now, right by your laptop. You can see in the far distance that you’re looking at the screen, but nothing is making sense. All the letters loop together and tangle into a sea of nettles. It’s not your stuffed animal, what’s soft in this room?

There’s throw pillows, but those are on the sofa. You’re sitting by your small table, the one you made into your desk. You have some stickers on the organizer trays, but they’re too bright to look at, too overwhelming. All those fun and familiar characters are too overwhelming now.

Soft… Soft… Soft… What’s soft?

You take a deep breath. You feel like your head is breaching above water for a moment. In the middle of the storm, your eyes flash with lightening clarity. You can see the sky bend and crack above you, can feel the currents of the sea desperately try to suck you back into the inky depths. You can feel it all as it whirls around you. You take another breath, and again the waves recede briefly to give you some semblance of relief. It’s brief, but it’s what you need. Another breath, the sea falls away, you feel yourself coming to solid ground.

The chair is solid beneath you. It’s a nice comfy chair that your friend found for you at a thrift store. It fits your room, it makes it look more organized.

Organized.

The sea wells up again, this time rising all the way back up to you neck and threatening to take you under.

Right, that’s why you’re like this. You’re unorganized.

Teachers always told you to be more careful with your school work. You keep losing your papers. I don’t have an endless supply here; you need to learn to take care of your things. Your parents got so mad at you. How do you not know where it is? I gave it to you five minutes ago! Your partners never understood. What do you mean you don’t remember? Over and over and over again, and now you’re hearing it from your boss. You lost the paper you needed. You lost it right before the deadline. You can’t meet the deadline without that report. How did you lose it? You thought you were better, you thought therapy and medications were working. Everyone told you that you were getting better, but now you’re stuck back at square one, staring down at your shoes as your teacher sighs and tells you to be more careful again.

You feel like you’re breaking down. It’s too much. Your chest heaves up and down, but you don’t know why. You try to breathe but the air catches in a ball in the back of your throat, thick and coagulated like old blood. It feels like fleshy masses are consuming your body, draining your life out of your sorry shell.

The softness pushes back into your hand again. Soft… Soft… Soft… What in your apartment is soft?

You feel something tugging at the front of your shirt. It’s familiar, but you can’t remember what’s meant to do that. It does that for a reason. It wants your attention.

You feel like you’re cracking apart chunks of granite when you move your neck, messily putting them back together when you finally look down at your lap.

What’s this meant to be? This isn’t a stuffed animal. It’s big and black, and it has such big wide eyes. Big big yellow eyes like twin harvest moons hanging in the night sky. Such big and beautiful eyes. Why do they look so sad?

They’re looking at you.

You know these eyes. These eyes are familiar. They look friendly, but so sad. You can’t bear them looking so sad. You need to make them happy. What makes them happy?

You move an arm made of lead to fall upon this black spot’s back. You slowly push your hand through the softness, then move back up to pet it again. The petting helps. It’s a simple, easy actions. Repetitive. It’s comforting. You can feel the warmth soaking into your lap. The eyes blink slowly. These are happy eyes, you think to yourself.

You can feel the waves receding. The water flushes away to leave you bare to the world. You can see the sky again, can see the clouds slowly whispering away into nothingness. They’re soft, much like the little storm cloud in your lap. But this isn’t a cloud you want to let go of, it’s a good cloud. This storm is a good storm. It’s a summer rain against the windowpanes at night. It’s a familiar pitter-patter on the rooftops. It’s a good storm, a happy storm.

It rolls with thunder, and it takes you a minute to find the name for this rumble. It’s called purring. Purring is a good thing. That’s something you know. You know purring is good. Purring is a very good thing. Hearing purring makes you feel a bit calmer. It’s easier to think now. The buzzing on your skin fades slightly. Your thoughts aren’t murky clouds, they’re starting to come into focus. The chatter is slowly dimming. It’s not so loud. It’s something you can tolerate. It’s not great, it’s still loud, but you can hear the chatter clearly now. It’s not talking about failure or loss or inevitable tragedies, it’s talking about this thing called ‘cats’.

Cats are good and wonderful things. Cats are innocent, good, pure. Cats don’t want to hurt you. Cats don’t get scared of you. Cats don’t think you’re a disappointment. Cats are good things that love and care for you, regardless of who you are. If you love them, they’ll love you back. They won’t hold your flaws above your heads. Cats take you as you are.

This little storm cloud, this cat, he is a nice and sweet animal. He’s waiting for you. Waiting for what? He’s waiting for you to calm down, one of the voices in the chatter says, louder than the rest. Normally, the voices in the chatter stress you out, but this one is a good voice. You like this voice. You want to listen to it more.

His name is König, it says, he loves you.

Does he love you?

He loves you very much.

Well that’s a wonderful thing, now isn’t it?

You smile and pet the cat more, this time scratching at his ears and his ruff. He rolls his head into the palm of your hand, eagerly lapping up all of your affections. This cat wants you, it needs you. This cat cares for you.

You feel another tug on your sleeve. You look down at your side and, would you know it, there’s another cat! You’re so surprised that you make a little squeak that has both the cats on edge. You relax, and they both calm down beside you.

Unfortunately for you, this striped cat is sitting on some of your papers.

Right, papers. You were doing some work. You needed those papers.

You scoot the cat away and take a look at the papers.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’re holding.

The missing report, the voices clamber over each other, the missing report!

All the anxiety that had been lingering wafts away in a long sigh.

You have the report. You’re okay. You’re not going to be fired. Everything will be okay.

You take a final breath.

You’re going to be okay.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

[cyb-by-lang]

Cascade (part 7)

Wherein Kei contemplates punching people. Not even all of the same people as a second ago.

(a rather intense thing I've been saving up for, since my birthday was a bit busy.)

Across the way—and notably between Kei and the first guy who’d been stabbed—Stain chose this moment to break into the conversation. “So, you knew your friend might seek me out?” Stain asked, still leaning forward into a clearly aggressive stance. “And you showed up to save your friend’s life. You even made a big entrance. But I have a duty to kill him and this so-called pro. When your friend chose to fight me, it guaranteed that the weaker one would be culled.” 

Oh good, a zealot. 

“So, what will you do?” Stain growled.

While Midoriya reached back for his phone, Kei stepped up as a distraction and delivered the most carefully neutral sentence of her entire stay in Tokyo: “I’ll make you a better offer. If you back away now, we’ll let you go.” 

Iida couldn’t jolt and didn’t swear, but the next words out of his mouth were a betrayed, “Gekkō-san, no!” 

“Either he’ll leave and get caught by someone like Endeavor, or he won’t, and we’ll fight,” Kei said quietly, “and I’m not afraid to fight.” She sounded mostly like she was leaning on her nonexistent PR training, but with four witnesses, she couldn’t just grab the man and make him eat pavement without even a token attempt at negotiating. 

Sure, she hadn’t given that first Nōmu a chance, but he’d also been in the process of beating Aizawa to death at the time. Like with Midoriya’s opening punch tonight, stopping an ongoing attack mattered more than manners.  

And besides… “He’s human enough to have a choice.” 

Not a chance. Because he didn’t. But a choice. 

If the Hero Killer committed to attacking, then he earned the right to suffer consequences. 

And Stain pulled a knife in addition to his word, which was as good as proof that a) free will was wasted on him and b) he had no idea what Kei’s “Quirk” was. Kei doubted Midoriya or Iida could actually see the movement, between the darkness and the fact that Stain was generally pretty sneaky about it, but it did mean that she had little interest in negotiating further. 

“Listen to me!” Iida insisted. Agonized, angry, and unable to do anything about either. “Stand down and run away. I told you, this has nothing to do with you!” 

“If you really believe all of that, then why are you trying to become a hero in the first place!” Midoriya snapped at Iida, silencing him. As he raised his fists into a ready stance, he muttered, “There are plenty of things I have to say, but they’ll have to wait.” Then, louder: “All Might was right, though. Meddling where you don’t have to is the essence of being a hero!” 

Oddly, that appeared to strike more of a chord with the serial killer than the hero student still on the ground. Stain’s lack of a nose—seamlessly so—actually made his grin dominate his features more than anybody without a mutation Quirk. And Kei counted that skull-faced kid in 1-B when making that judgment.

Midoriya lit up in green sparks again. He could launch the second Stain blinked. 

Stain shifted to meet the inevitable charge, already swinging his katana.

Kei made the Dog hand seal and flooded the alleyway forward of her position half a meter deep, careful not to risk drowning Iida. And while both Midoriya and Stain paused to recalculate their traction, Kei flowed through four other hand seals and shoved her clasped hands forward with her chakra firmly behind the movement. Isobu’s strength backed her all the way.

Water Release: Water Wall. 

The entire alleyway was suddenly flooded. Kei kicked her way upright with the patience of an apex predator as her costume’s flowing bits trailed behind her. 

Suffice it to say that nobody got to move without her permission. 

While Kei took the time to form air bubbles around the heads of each participant in their backstreet brawl, her strength now ruled. If the USJ Nōmu wasn’t able to escape her grip despite being geared toward fighting All Might, nobody here had a shot. Especially not a pissy murderer who wore that much metal. With a wave of her hand, Kei yanked Native and his cloud of water-dispersed blood back toward safety, shoved Stain toward the other end of the street, and reeled Midoriya in all at once. Within thirty seconds, she’d entirely rearranged the battlefield so that her charges were behind her while the only legitimate target was in front. 

Though the water did represent a minor communication problem. 

It would not for you alone. 

Unfortunately, allies also make very good witnesses. 

Kei pushed forward until she could lock her hand around the immobile Hero Killer’s throat. She didn’t yank him out of the water, but instead formed a Water Prison around him and dismissed most of the excess from her direct control. With it mostly rushing downhill, the sudden wave would miss Iida and Native and likely end up somewhere more useful, such as within Manual’s range. 

“So,” Kei said, as mild as if they were talking about the weather. Drawing Stain’s face partially out of the Water Prison, she flicked water off her other hand. “How’s this working out for you, Hero Killer?”

Stain took a moment to cough. Sure, he spat water out so it almost reached her face, because Kei had been a little less careful with his breathing than the others’, but perhaps that was the cost of this restraint tactic. His lack of a nose did not help. Then: “If I die purging the world of the unworthy, then so be it. Nothing is more of a stain on this world than the festering corruption of a society that ruined the name ‘hero.’ It falls to me to teach you all a lesson.” 

Kei sighed. Half the reason she’d grabbed this big fish physically came down to the possibility he’d bite her, but she didn’t actually enjoy playing straitjacket for a murderous shithead. “Get a license and then we’ll talk.”

“How long can you hold him there, Gekkō-san?” Midoriya asked as he darted over to check on Native and on Iida. His entire hero outfit made squelching noises as he moved, but Kei didn’t have the time to fix that for him yet. 

“Long enough.” Which translated to “until she got interrupted,” which was standard for the Water Prison technique and a shinobi with Kei’s huge chakra reserves. “But if I do lose my grip, I’m probably going to punt him over a building,” Kei admitted, “just to get him out of our way.” 

“Okay. Then, when you drop it, can you grab Native? I can take Iida-kun.” 

Well, assuming the Hero Killer didn’t try to live up to his name… “Should be fine.” 

There was the occasional clanking sound as Midoriya got each of the others into a rescue position. Native tried to talk him into just calling for a pro to help, but knowing that the entirety of Hosu was already being attacked and the emergency responders were tied up put a mild hole in that plan. Midoriya even said so. For some reason, that worried Native a little less than the serial killer Kei had already subdued. Maybe that was proximity talking.

But more piercing than that was Iida’s protest. “Gekkō-san—if he’d hurt your brother, you can’t tell me you’d just walk away from this!” 

It rang through Kei’s skull for a moment. Like a flashbang. Her left hand twitched with the urge to make a fist. 

Fuck him for bringing up Hayate right now, was Kei’s initial thought once the ringing stopped, but she stomped it down as spiteful and unworthy. It wouldn’t be the first time someone in a crisis threw her weaknesses back in her face.

At least you know what they are, and that they are unreachable.

“Tensei didn’t deserve that,” Iida continued, still as angry, still as heartbroken. His voice cracked. “The—the only reason the Hero Killer lashed out at him was because he was a legacy hero! For wanting to make our family proud. All my brother ever did was help people!”

And the Hero-Killer scoffed, as though annoyed that Iida still had enough sense left after percolating in vengeance to call him on his bullshit. “From impure motives—”

Kei shoved Stain’s face back underwater rather than let him finish that sentence. He’d survive, but Iida didn’t need to hear his spewing hatred any longer. Then Kei glanced back over her shoulder toward her companions, while Midoriya got the other two into rescue positions for an easy grab-and-go option. Perfect for fleeing upset heroes and angry murderers as needed. 

[jane-morgendorffer]

He’s sixteen years old when his cousin introduces him to the thing that will eventually kill him. His mum, usually overly protective (and in his somewhat expert opinion, absolutely too paranoid for her own good), doesn’t even try to stop him. It’s a good thing she doesn’t, because he’s already caused her a lifetime of stress in that decade-and-a-half he’s been alive so far and it’ll only get worse when she finds out he’s fallen so deeply in love with his own killer that he’ll lie to everyone -her included- for the chance of getting there quicker.

He’s eighteen when he finally gets there. He’s spent the past two years working hard, but it’s not enough to just work hard. He’s also got to be better. Better than the guy behind him. Better than the guy in front of him. Better than himself. It’s brutal. A slow death that kills him with every day he grinds himself into the ground. But he carries on anyway. Because it’s something you either have or you don’t and he’s had it since the moment he was born. He was made for this. Has been since long before he even knew what this was. When his mum calls (which she does every week), he makes sure to tell her about the progress he’s making. How quick he is. How strong he’s getting. She doesn’t understand, always eager to change the subject to something pointless like what he’s going to do on his days off or if he’s eating well, but he thinks she’s proud. Secretly, he doesn’t mind if she isn’t. He loves her anyway and, in return, she doesn’t bring up the worry that has replaced the space he’s left behind.

He’s twenty-one when people finally start to realise what he’s known for years. He’s the youngest candidate to pass selection. An asset to not only his team but his country as well. A man destined for bigger and brighter things. He calls his mum. She says the right things, but the pride doesn’t flow as easily as it used to. Instead, she rattled on about Christmas plans and pointedly avoids the fact that he has achieved something most people could only dream of. He tells her that. Loudly. She says the only dreams she’s having these days are having him come home in a casket. (She apologises straight afterwards. She always does. And it’s easy to accept the apology when she’s there on the other end of the line, but they both know the damage is already done.)

He’s twenty-five when he starts to enjoy it. If he was good at what he did before, he’s godly at it now. Which should be the hubris talking, but he knows it isn’t. It’s not just him. He’d say the same about anyone in the 141. Not just because he loves them, which he does, but because they truly are the best people he’s ever known. It’s twisted, in a way, how easily he finds talking to them while the calls from his mum go unanswered. How easily he’d replaced one family with another. But they understand him in a way no one else ever could. And, yeah, he loves some of them differently (in a thick, cloying way that he’ll need another decade to fully understand) but it’s not more. But he still loves his mum. The same way he loves old films and the memory of his childhood bedroom. He just doesn’t go home for Christmas as much anymore. Though, the more he thinks, the less he’s sure about whose benefit that was really for.

He’s twenty-eight when he’s shot in the head while doing exactly what he was made for. It’s funny, really, in the same way that the lieutenant’s jokes are funny. Which, is to say, not really funny at all. But that’s what he thinks of in that flash of a second between being alive and being dead. The jokes. ‘Hey! What do they call a brilliant sergeant who died in the afterthought of someone else’s fight?’ He doesn’t hear the punchline, but he thinks he might hear his name being called in the distance.

He’s still twenty-eight when three men spread his ashes from his favourite spot. It’s a private affair. Words lost under the weight of what had been and what never would. They don’t invite his mum. She wouldn’t understand their grief anymore than she had all those years ago when his cousin had brought him home with a fire in his eyes.

He’s still twenty-eight when his mum buries the idea of him in their local graveyard. His teammates don’t attend this funeral. Call it same. Call it respect. It doesn’t matter either way. She’s happier without them there. If she knows the casket is empty, she doesn’t show it. It’s better that she doesn’t. It’s a nice ceremony. His favourite flowers at the graveside. His favourite food at the wake. Guests are gentle with her in a way he never was. It’s an honour they say. But she doesn’t understand that any more than she understands why this had to be what he was made for. And maybe that’s better. It’s too late for her to convince him of anything else now anyway.

[misspelledwordswizard]

Alright, I'm feeling some Sky fluff so how about The Chain ends up on Skyloft and Sky takes the reader for a ride on Crimson as a cute little date?

Oh, that was so sweet to write! I hope you like it <3

A date in the skies

The blond man’s blue eyes shone as he recognized the place they had arrived at after passing through that portal. The blue sky surrounded the surroundings, the wind howled along with the sound of several birds flying nearby, all of this mixing with the natural cacophony of the people who lived there, on that large island in the sky.

The others, however, seemed a little more than confused about their current location. Of course, most quickly associated it with the heroes of the skies, but it was still shocking and intriguing, it was all very new to the others, including me, who had been following them for several months now.

Sky promptly informed and explained to everyone that they were in Skyloft, his home, and made sure to give them a quick tour of it, mainly to prevent them from ending up lost. The sun was shining high in the sky indicating the beginning of the afternoon when he finally finished explaining everything about the island to his brothers, releasing them to explore it at will as long as they returned to the designated meeting point, the knight academy, at the end of the afternoon.

I considered the idea of going exploring as well, I’m naturally quite curious about the place where my beloved was born and raised, but I want much more to spend this time alone with him and enjoy this beautiful day. Knowing Link, he must have planned the whole day for the two of us, maybe he’ll show me the places of his childhood, or we’ll just spend some quiet time together, either way it’ll be great.

I stood next to him as everyone dispersed, some obviously more excited than others, but all curious about the floating island we’d ended up on. As soon as the others were out of sight, we looked at each other, already knowing what the other was thinking, and we smiled at the coincidence.

— Okay, Mr. Romantic, what are your plans for today?

— Oh, I’m so excited for this, I’ve been waiting for the chance to show you Skyloft, and Crimson, and spend some time alone, I could take you flying after a romantic picnic. – He replied, visibly excited about the idea, making me smile at the lovely thought.

— That sounds great, love. I couldn’t think of anything better, but just being able to spend this day with you makes me happy. Especially when it’s been so long since we’ve had our alone time. – I said, remembering all the company, as much as they were very dear to me, sometimes eight brothers-in-law could be a bit much.

With the plans set, we went together first so I could meet my boyfriend’s Loftwing, a large red bird, with a huge beak, who looked at me curiously. He seemed to accept me well, though. He happily let me stroke his soft neck feathers, rubbing his head against me affectionately, and Sky seemed very pleased with that.

After this friendly encounter, we agreed that it would be time to eat something, we had been walking for a while and this would be the perfect moment for that romantic picnic previously planned. We bought some food and walked towards the waterfall that flowed into the island’s lake. It was truly a spectacular sight to behold, the water fell beautifully and sparkled reflecting the sun’s rays, giving the place na almost magical air.

I was totally enchanted by the Remlits on the way there, they were totally adorable, had soft fur and kept following us around so we could play with them. But I have to admit that I almost had a heart attack when I saw Link throw one of them off the edge of the floating island. I mean, I trust my boyfriend, of course I do, but who in their right mind wouldn’t be scared by that? And of course, to my surprise, the little feline came flying back with his ears, which was partly relieving, partly adorable, and partly comical.

We turned our attention back to the meal we were waiting for, choosing a spot near the lake, on the bright green grass, sorting out what we had brought and laying it out on a charming red picnic blanket. We took our time to eat, our conversation flowed as always, it was always a mutual understanding, a comfortable and fun topic to discuss. I love hearing the sound of his voice, how excited he seemed to be talking about his era and his adventures, and now, seeing how beautiful and wonderful this place was, I could understand.

We must have spent a good few hours there, much more engrossed in each other than in the activity itself, and every moment was wonderful, I must say. Sharing a very different pumpkin treat was na experience, it seemed that pumpkins were popular around here, and certainly everything they made with them was delicious.

— Are you ready to go, feather? – Link asked, using his sweet nickname he gave me.

— Sure, dear. I’m excited to do this, even though I must admit I’m a little apprehensive.

— Don’t worry, you’ll be more than safe with me, my love. With that, we finished putting our things away and walked towards the statue of Hylia. The large statue that was visible from all over Skyloft. Arriving there, I was even more impressed by its size, but that didn’t draw as much attention as the red bird that flew over the place, just waiting for the hero’s command.

Link asked me to wait on the edge, and then jumped without any hesitation, something that would have scared me if I hadn’t known it beforehand, but I couldn’t help but be at least a little surprised. Soon the sound of his whistle was heard, and then my boyfriend resurfaced, riding his Loftwing, close to where I was, holding out his hand so I could climb up too. Even though it was a bit difficult, that’s what I did, and then I held on tightly to the blond, making him laugh. My grip tightened when I felt the large bird move, flapping its wings and rising into the sky. I hid my face in the crook of Sky’s neck and only saw what was around us again when I felt the flight stabilize.

The view from up there was incredible, it was possible to see the whole of Skyloft from there. I could see, even though with some difficulty, some of the boys walking towards the knight academy. Only then did I notice that it was late afternoon, the sun was setting on the horizon, bathing everything and everyone with its golden rays that made the situation even more beautiful. It was breathtaking, without a doubt. I managed to get used to the feeling of flying, so it became something fun and magical, and being able to be so close to Link was na added bonus, it was the perfect way to end the day.×

— This is beautiful. – That was all I could think when my mind was too busy processing all of that. – I love you, Link.

— I love you too, feather. – He said smiling, looking divine illuminated by the sunset light, making me think how lucky I was.

[megs-98]

i had to shower without music so naturally i spent the entire time thinking about what the datv companion/rook bathrooms would look like

i'm gonna add my thoughts under the cut but everything will be sfw, there's just going to be a lot of rambling cause i will be talking about every companion and my rook. also i haven't finished the game yet so some thoughts are definitely incomplete

now i don't know if the fade would generate bathrooms for each character or if this place that can seemingly produce anything would just plop down a communal bathhouse. but i like to think the caretaker would make sure each person has a personalized ensuite. i also think that these bath areas would change as you get farther along in that companion's quest, similar to how harding's room gets more and more plants in it as you do her quest.

like

harding, for example, would her shower start off as a waterfall cascading off of rocks. symbolizing her love and appreciation of her ancestors and then by the time you finish her quest would there be a massive leaf coming from the rock side causing the water to cascade down? similar to the giant flower coming from her ceiling, tying in her love of plants

or with davrin. at the start, would he just have a pond? of questionable water? cause those wardens are roughin it for sure. but then as he and assan find their turlum, the water clears and rock walls form so assan can jump into the water from different heights? giving both davirn and emmrich a heart attack cause we know manfred would want to give it a try

would neve have a small area with basically just a bowl of water, a bar of soap, and a cloth? essentially only giving herself a bird bath cause she has leads to follow up on.. but as she continues through her quest and knows she has people to count on and is not alone in the world so she, for lack of a better word, grants herself time to enjoy a relaxing moment bathing, so an actual bathtub with nice soaps and soft towels appear. it doesn't need to be elaborate, she still enjoys things that are practical and get the job done

bellara's could go one of two ways in my head; either her shower would be more akin to rain falling through the tree canopy. or would it start as a small waterfall feeding into a stream. not sure how it would improve on itself from there though. maybe the foresty area comes more and more to life maybe having a calmed relic or two

taash, i think taash's would start as something more qunari centered, but as they learn more about themselves !and especially if rook encourages them to embrace their riviani culture! it would turn into a desert oasis and is just their small patch of paradise to enjoy however they choose to

emmrich i think his would be a practical bathroom but with a flair. i honestly haven't finished his questline yet but i know he's secure with himself and knows what he likes. so of course it would have all his creature comforts, maybe even have a box or something that would warm up his robe for him

lucanis would have a rather grandiose bathroom. he is used to the finer things in life and has an appreciation for style. he would have all the latest items popular with antivans, but he would prefer a small flow of water coming from the ceiling. could you imagine how broody he'd be in the shower, and it would probably cold too so he doesn't fall asleep. but then as he and spite are able to work together, he feels more comfortable to sit in a warm bath, appreciating how relaxing it can be, especially with a good glass of wine, hopefully even spite enjoying it to whatever extend he's able too

now for rook. my main rook is crow!rook, named yaryna (goes by yary) hers would definitely be practical but still have her favorite items. she's knowledgeable about plants, she is a poisoner after all, so she'd have eucalyptus hanging from the walls, some aloe vera, maybe an orchid or two. just a decent amount of high humidity plants, a *mirrorless* vanity table where she keeps her skin/hair care and makeup. and as she progresses through the story, finding more confidence in herself, a mirror would appear. her area wouldn't necessarily turn better, but she'd appreciate what she has, what she has always had, seeing the importance in "average" things, just as she does with herself.

[moonmaiden1996]

Jealous Vampires and Cute Dogs

A sweet little thing I wrote on the train while dreaming of playing Baulder's Gate. Plus we need more Astarion and Scratch stories

The campfire crackled softly, throwing warm light across the small clearing. The stars above twinkled as if in tune with the quiet laughter filling the air. The group had gathered around the large fire after a long day of dispatching goblins from nearby ruins. It was a rare moment of peace, and everyone was taking full advantage of it. The day’s grime had been wiped away, and a sense of camaraderie settled like a blanket over the camp.

Scratch lay sprawled beside you, his fluffy white fur gleaming in the firelight. His tail wagged lazily, stirring up small puffs of dirt every so often as you scratched behind his ears. His contented sighs made you smile.

“You’re such a good boy,” you cooed, your fingers burying themselves in his soft fur. He licked your hand in appreciation, letting out a satisfied huff before rolling onto his back, clearly expecting belly rubs.

Across the fire, Astarion sat rigid, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His pale features were shadowed by the firelight, but his scowl was unmistakable. For the better part of an hour, his crimson eyes had been fixed on you and Scratch. Despite his composed facade, the occasional twitch of his mouth betrayed his mounting irritation.

The rest of the group was absorbed in their own distractions. Gale was recounting a convoluted story about a drunken donkey and an exasperated schoolmistress, his gestures animated and his words slightly slurred from the wine. Karlach was leaning back with a grin, encouraging him with hearty laughs, while Shadowheart rolled her eyes at the tale’s increasing absurdity. You, however, had opted out of the chatter, leaning against a fallen tree with a book you’d scavenged from the ruins, content to let your hand idly rake through Scratch’s fur.

Finally, Astarion could take no more.

“Really, darling?” he drawled, his voice cutting through the campfire’s hum. “You’ve been doting on that mangy mutt for ages. When will it be my turn?”

You blinked up at him, startled out of your thoughts. “What?”

He uncrossed his arms, gesturing dramatically toward Scratch. “You heard me. This… dog has monopolized your attention all evening, and I must say, I’m feeling rather neglected.”

Scratch’s ears perked up at Astarion’s voice, and his tail wagged faster, as if in challenge. Astarion raised a brow, glaring at the dog. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, you glorified rug. You’ve stolen enough of their affections for one night.”

A laugh bubbled up, and you struggled to stifle it. “Astarion, are you… jealous of Scratch?”

He straightened, feigning indignation. “Jealous? Of a dog? Don’t be absurd.”

“Right,” you said, smirking. “That’s why you’ve been glaring at him like he’s your mortal enemy for the past hour.”

Astarion sniffed, brushing invisible dust from his immaculate sleeve. “I merely find the imbalance of attention… unjust.”

The vampire rose with his characteristic dramatic flair, his flowing movements a contrast to the firelight’s warmth. He made his way around the fire until he stood in front of you, his crimson eyes narrowing as he looked down at you. His pouty lips pressed together as if debating whether to continue his complaint.

“Watching you lavish attention on him,” he began, his tone a mix of annoyance and something more tender, “while I sit here, cold and untouched, is nothing short of torture.”

Your lips twitched at his theatrics, and your heart softened. Despite his complaints, there was a vulnerability in his expression, as though he feared admitting the truth of his jealousy would leave him exposed.

“You do realise Scratch doesn’t threaten your place in my life, right?” you said softly.

Astarion’s eyes darted away for a moment, and he cleared his throat. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Sighing, you patted the ground beside you. “Come here, then. If you want attention, all you have to do is ask.”

For a moment, Astarion hesitated, the conflict between his pride and his longing clear in the flicker of firelight on his face. But in the end, he gave in, lowering himself to sit beside you with a resigned elegance.

You reached out and placed a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “See? Was that so hard?”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “Only because it’s you, my sweet.”

Just as he was beginning to relax, Scratch, ever the opportunist, wriggled his way into Astarion’s lap. The dog’s happy bark filled the air as he nuzzled his head against the vampire’s chest, his tail wagging with triumphant energy.

Astarion froze, his expression a blend of horror and betrayal. “Oh, no. Absolutely not.”

You burst out laughing as Scratch began licking Astarion’s hand with unrestrained enthusiasm. “Looks like someone’s forgiven you.”

Astarion looked at you, his eyes narrowing in mock outrage. “Forgiven me? I’ve done nothing to deserve this.”

Despite his protests, his hand found its way to Scratch’s ears, giving them an almost imperceptible ruffle. The reluctant smile that tugged at his lips didn’t escape your notice.

“Now I have two of you vying for my attention,” he said dryly, though the amusement in his voice betrayed him. “Whatever shall I do?”

Leaning against him, you gave a warm laugh, resting your head lightly on his shoulder. “Maybe just enjoy it?”

For all his grumbling, Astarion didn’t pull away. Scratch settled happily in his lap, and for a brief moment, even Astarion seemed to relax, his hand falling into an easy rhythm of scratching behind the dog’s ears. The campfire burned steadily, a beacon of light and warmth in the quiet wilderness. Even the unmistakable giggles from the rest of the group did little to disrupted the little trio.

Like. Comment. Request

Hope you like!

[cherry-smokes]

Winnebago

You and Steve are desperately pining over each other, all it takes is a near death experience and some eavesdropping to finally do something about it before it's too late. Steve Harrington x reader hurt/comfort Warnings: talks of blood, yearning and also this is my first blurb so proceed with caution.

Gruesome. Gnarly. Wrong. Just so wrong. Words flash through your mind, harsh and biting unlike your gentle hands as you tend to his wounds. It’s just not fair.

Steve, the most gentle man you know, shouldn’t have been torn to shreds by those things. You swear you could see the light flowing out of him along with his blood as you wrapped whatever shred of clothing it was that Nancy handed you around his waist.

You figure you should thank her for that. For her help. For granting you all the god given gift that is her mind. You swear you would if you could bear to look at her without feeling sick. It feels so ridiculous to be caught up with unrequited love in times like these. You've never felt more like a teenage girl in your life. When you aren't worried about keeping the gaggle of children you've essentially adopted at this point alive you're worried about Steve being dragged into what you can only consider the pits of hell. It's never ending. First it's the tunnels, then the Russians and now the fucking bats. He doesn't deserve that, he deserves the Winnebago.

The six kids, all probably with the same head of hair and freckles that mirror his. Warm soft eyes, that killer smile. You shouldn't have eavesdropped on his conversation with Nancy, you know that. As you cradled Max's head on your shoulder, ignoring the way her headphones dug into the bone there, you couldn't help but tune out Kate Bush and listen to what they said.

"Except for the six kids part- that sounds like...a total nightmare"

"If only I had some practice"

"I'm sure...it would be easier with some help."

Too caught up in trying to figure out if the sharp stinging pain you felt was coming from your stomach, chest or throat, you missed the way Steve glanced at you through the rear view mirror.

You miss the way he looks at you now. The RV is empty, everyone has retreated outside to prepare themselves for battle. Children all forced into a colosseum of horrors they should have never had to endure. For a moment, he doesn't think about that. He thinks about you. Your gentle hands. You've always been that way with him. He fears every day that he takes it for granted. He wasn't used to gentleness. Not from his father, not from his peers, not even from Nancy.

He looks at your hands, bloody and cracked. He thinks it's unfair. It's cruel that those hands that have only ever given out care and provided warmth have to be exposed to anything other than that. He thinks he would reach into the sun, melt his hands to the bone if it meant he could give you an ounce of its warmth.

"How is that, is it too tight?"

You gently lay your hands around the bandages you've wrapped around him as you ask the question, avoiding his gaze.

Steve shakes his head, soft strands of hair falling onto his face.

"No...that's good. It's a lot better than before, thank you"

He looks at your face as you start picking up the remnants of your care. Bloodied gauze pads you struggle to keep in your hands as they shake. He can't help but reach out for them.

"Hey, what is it-what's wrong?"

You finally look at him. His heart aches a terrible thing as he sees the glassy look in your eyes.

Your voice is soft, if he wasn't so close he probably wouldn't even hear you as you whisper.

"You scared me so bad."

You sound like a child when you say it. Unable to find more complex words to describe how you felt when all you could hear as you ran to him was screaming. When you saw him overwhelmed by those viscous, ravenous creatures.

Steve's hands move desperately to your face. Trying to wipe any ounce of distress away from it like he can't bear to see you look so sad a second longer.

"I know-I know I'm sorry. I'm okay, I'm here right?"

"I just-" Your words get caught in your throat. They come out thick with emotion and Steve's brows furrow together like his in pain. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the way it makes your chest shake.

"I have this horrible feeling...that we aren't going to be as lucky this time"

"Don't- Don't say that."

Your hands reach up to cradle his own on your face. You try to burn the feeling of him into your memory. Just in case this is the last time you'll be able to feel them. Just in case you're about to ruin everything. You pull his hands away and hold them out in front of you, taking his face in. Bloody, grimy and bruised yet he looks just as beautiful as he always does.

"I heard what you said to Nancy earlier."

His heart sinks a little bit. He isn't sure why. He can't tell if he's embarrassed that you heard it, that you might think it's some stupid pipe dream you would never want any part of. Worse, he thinks about you wanting that. Wanting it with him, and something horrible happening that would tear that possibility away.

"Oh."

"I think if anyone deserves that Winnebago, the road trip...the family. I think it's you. Anyone would be lucky to get that with you."

There's that warmth again. Spreading across his chest and up to his cheeks as he flushes. He opens his mouth, he begs his brain to come up with anything to say but he can't. Not when the sun is setting behind you and he swears the way the light shines into the RV makes you look like an angel.

"I know...that you want that with someone. And I'm so sorry if this just ruins everything and you can't ever look at me the same after this but...I don't want to die-"

"I'm not going to let that happen-"

He doesn't just mean something happening to you. He wouldn't let anything ruin you two. Steve thinks he would wallow in pain and misery forever as long as he got to keep you. He wishes he had words to explain that to you, wishes he had been better in English so he could formulate poems and novels about how he feels about you.

"What if we can't stop it? I wouldn't be at peace if you didn't know. If something happens to me-and if there is a 'better place' out there...I hope I wake up in a Winnebago. On the shore somewhere sunny and warm. I hope you're there...and I hope you're surrounded by kids that look just like us."

He grabs desperately at your face. One of his hands reaching up to brush your hair out of your face.

"Why can't we have that in this life?"

You swear you can hear your heart pounding in your ears. You can feel the blood rushing through your veins and even so close to the possibility of death you've never felt more alive.

"Is that what you want?"

"Angel that's all I want"

You kiss his palms as he rests his forehead against yours. You pray to whatever force is out there that you have done enough good in this life to be granted a moment of peace in the sun when this is all over.

[ultravioart]

On a positive note, the comic for Hazard actually was interesting enough to make me look past his 'safe' for a punk character design. I'm hyped!

I did not expect overwatch to directly call out systemic ableism and classism in the story.

Kids in poverty being funneled into a military pipeline only to be spat out and cast aside as disabled vets in poverty is a very real issue in the world.

If Hazard was rich, he could have afforded prosthesis that actually fit him, ones that didn't cause him pain. Instead, only bc he could not afford better ones, the system gave him the bare minimum for survival, and instead of actually dealing with the root cause and issue they gave him pain meds. In his eyes, this was done so that the system could pay him to shut up, or face consequences. No different than what his parents went through. They wouldn't even give him the respect to tell him WHY the deadly crash that maimed him happened, nor do anything to prevent OTHERS from being hurt in the same way. The system is working as intended. The system didn't care about him, nor others. The system uses it's citizen's bodies for profit.

This panel hits so hard because visual story telling wise it says so much.

In this panel, the stray animal that saved his life is the only one who cares, as the fellow human beings he fought to keep safe as a veteran walk past him at full pace.

How in this panel, his disability is 'blocking the path' of the able bodied, his very existence a 'hindrance' to the able bodied, when the hospital path really ought to be the one taken into account for. Pushed out the door into a system that was never designed for him. Yet, anyone could be in his shoes. Anyone could become disabled, poor, or neglected. Anyone could become just another 'stray mutt' in the system.

How in this panel he is posed in a way where he has the choice to turn and 'go with the flow' of the system and follow the crowd and not look back.... or go 'against the flow' in the opposite direction of the crowd looking for other 'strays' like him left behind by this system.

Honestly props to the comic creators for even discussing systemic oppression to dorectly.

I also am incredibly interested in seeing if Sombra got her spine mods from the Phreaks or not, because it looks like similar tech in her short.

I just hope that the Phreaks are more RobinHood and 'guerilla warfare against the system to spark change', rather than purely anarchists blowing everything up bc lol. The Phreaks being anarchists would be a waste of story, just another gang that became radicalized and corrupt and causes harm and must be defeated by Overwatch. (I am only worried about this because Ramattra became radicalized and demonized for trying to prevent the extinction of omnics. Ramattra is fully in his right to physically resist omnic extinction bc omnics ARE finite and being killed. We STILL don't know what those null sector helmets are for... but for some reason Ramattra is written as emotionally hasty(???) to the point of horrible accidents happening, which makes no sense since he is a R-7000 built for war TACTICS, not an emotional human that can misremember. The way Ramattra's story is handled doesn't make sense imo, they write him as if he's a biological being.)

I hope Hazard aims for accountability and dismantling of oppressive systems, rather than having no rules at all thru anarchy (he as a child saw what no rules in small doses gave him: bad homelife, bad school life, no accountability, no fostering of the mind and well being. That's why I think making the Phreaks anarchists would be stupid to do. There are systems that CAN foster mental and physical wellbeing, cooperation is one of those systems and Hazard is pro cooperation.) He did have an "eye for an eye" against the forces that took out the Phreaks in Morocco, but to be fair Oasis is using minority report 'predictive crime ai' bs so I can't blame Hazard for wanting to hit Oasis where it hurts by stealing thier most secret tech. (Perhaps Sombra helped the Phreaks/gave them that clue since Sombra is against the eye conspiracy, and that eye conspiracy is connected to Oasis)

I also hope Hazard's character is used to discuss the discrimination disabled people face in the Overwatch world, because they really dropped the ball with Soujorn on that front. (Her book used ableism... as a metaphor for racism?!?! Awful stuff. Cyborg (life saving surgery for disabled) people canonically face discrimination in overwatch.)

Because of that, I am super interested in hearing Hazard's voice interactions for lore, I hope we get more lore on omnics and Oasis and the Sombra eye conspiracy, and I am curious about Hazard's kit and what he will bring to the table matchup wise. We will probably get more eye conspiracy lore with the release of the Morocco map tho, tbf.

[arislary]

Brewing Chemistry (2/?) Han Jisung x (f) reader

Synopsis: Reader and Jisung are excitedly preparing for their long-awaited date. Both of them are eagerly getting ready, but a series of unfortunate events begin to unfold. Reader, despite her excitement, is dealing with a particularly rough day—facing work stress, and a series of minor mishaps that has shaken her confidence. She begins to feel insecure about how she looks, wondering if Jisung will still find her attractive or if her bad mood will ruin the night. She tries to push these feelings aside, but they linger, causing anxiety about whether she'll end up actually going on the date.

Pairing: Han Jisung x (f) reader

Genre: fluff, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, coffee-shop au, non-idol au, meet-cute au

Warning: fluff, smut, unprotected smut (wrap tf up!), slight dom/sub, slight Dom Jisung, slight Sub reader, cute nicknames, spit kink, makeouts, dry-humping, i lied about it being a slow-burn, moving too fast?, insecurity, slight body-image issues from reader, pants don't fit, crying, whiny Jisung, whiny reader, reader is forever clenching.

WC: 2.2k

AN: this could totally act as stand alone drabble, but I enjoyed writing about coffee shop Jisung x reader way too much. If you want to see more too, let me know please and I'll try to set up a taglist. Be patient with me as I do not have a schedule out for chapters yet! UNEDITED

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

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

I wiped my makeup off for what felt like the fifth time and almost started crying. My date with Jisung was in less than 30 minutes and I felt like everything that could have gone wrong that day, had. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, wearing just my robe and undergarments. 

From the spilled coffee on my desk, to the passive aggressive email from my fellow team lead, to my favorite lunch spot unfortunately being closed. By the time I got home, it felt like the universe was laughing at me as my favorite pair of pants felt too tight to be comfortable and even if they did, none of my shirts felt right and I didn’t even want to look at the offending dresses on the floor. 

I looked over at my phone and almost pouted. For the better part of the week since meeting last Tuesday, every text exchanged between Jisung and I, I had been able to continue being this self-assured, confident woman, but right now I just wanted to cry and be snuggled in my bed. Conversation with Jisung flowed too easily; the very awkward and cute boy from the coffee shop was replaced with this funny, flirty, charming guy. Still slightly awkward and cute though, but now I didn’t know if I could do this date anymore, it all just felt too much. It was way too early for me to show him any of this, I just didn’t want to do it today. I grabbed it with shaky hands and pulled up our last message thread. 

Jisung 🐿️👀🥴: Really looking forward to tnt! Pick u up at 7!

I looked at the time at the corner of my phone. The 6:40 glaring at me. I went back to our thread before pressing on the call button. It barely rang before the soothing sound of Jisung’s voice rang through. 

“_______! You know we’re about to see each other in like 5 minutes,” the chuckle he released had your insides twisting and left a large desire to hear it again. “That excited for our date?” That did it. I could feel the ball beginning to form in my throat. 

“Jisung…”

“What’s wrong?” My stomach dropped hearing the immediate worry in his voice.

“I, uh- I’m gonna have to reschedule actually on tonight”

“W-why? Is everything okay?” And now it felt like I had been kicked, I grimaced my hand coming up to cover my throat, the lump growing even bigger in my throat. I cleared it. 

“Actually-“ I took a deep breath before a small whimper escaped. “I’m so sorry Jisung, I just- I had a horrible day and I feel so awful. Nothing has gone right, fuck-“ the first hiccup escapes before I can’t hold it back anymore. “-And then my coffee spilled, a-and my favorite pen stopped working, a-and fucking Kevin, god he’s such an asshole! It wasn’t even my client!” I gasped out, sucking in air harshly through my nose, eyes starting to feel so swollen. “My clothes don’t fit and my makeup looks awful and now I’m saying all of this to you. God I must sound like such a loser-“

“Okay, hey, no, don’t say that, Ariana.”

I sniffled and wiped a hand across my eyes. 

“It’s true-“

“No, baby, it’s not.” 

Baby? It was the first time he’s called me that. Granted we’ve only known each other for a week, but I felt the weight of it all the same. Don’t get me wrong, he was a flirt and made it very clear throughout our conversations to know what his intentions were, but to hear him call me such a name. The intimacy of it left me feeling a tingle in my stomach and had me clenching. 

“It’s okay, trust me. It sounds like today was really hard huh?”

I sniffled and sank down to my plush rug. My left hand rubbing at the smooth fabric. It was like with just that sentence, a cooling wave washed over me. 

“Yea.”

“Kevin is also such an asshole!” A giggle bursted from my lips, falling to the side, keeping my phone pressed tightly to my face so that I wouldn’t miss anything from his velvety voice. “But most of all, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable on our first date.”

I rubbed a finger under my nose and pouted. God, could he be more perfect, he was just so nice and sweet, no one has ever been that way with me before. 

“Baby?”

“Hmmm?” I hummed out to him, feeling myself slipping into that fuzzy feeling. 

“C-could I-“ he cleared his throat, “could I maybe come over still? Would you like that?” 

I bite my lip, one hand playing with the strap of my robe. 

“Please.”

“Thank God, I’m downstairs in the parking lot-“ I sit up up quickly from where I had been laying down, eyes flashing to my bedroom door.  “I’ll be up in a second okay?”

I whimpered and nodded my head, before rolling my eyes, he can’t see you. 

“Okay- b-but stay on the phone, okay?” Rising to my feet, rushing to put my slippers on to head out to the front door. 

“Of course, baby.”

It was less than a minute before there was a gentle knock on my door, but hearing his breathing on the other line helped ease my stress and finally Jisung cooed at me to open the door. I ended the call and rushed to unlock it to meet him. Worried brown eyes met mine before I was suddenly wrapped up in a warm embrace. Jisung’s arms wrapped around the tops of my shoulders, pulling me tightly against his frame. 

He was dressed comfortably in a black hoodie and sweats. His wired frames sitting crookedly on his nose. I breathed in his comforting scent, my own arms wrapping around his tiny waist, face burrowing into his chest. 

“Hi,” he whispered against my head, his warm breath fanning against my ear and the side of my neck. The shiver that ran through me shook even him and he only pulled me tighter to him. 

“Hi.”

He let out a small groan and pulled back to look at my face. His bottom lip tug tightly in between his teeth. There was a faint blush on his face and from where we were pressed against each other, I could feel the rapid speed of his heartbeat. 

“And to think I would’ve missed out on this,” his hands curling at the satin fabric of my robe. A blush rose to my cheeks as I realized what I was still dressed in. I let go of his waist, my hands coming up touch the tie still tightly secured. I scurried out of his embrace, calling out to him.

“Give me two seconds!” I popped my head out of my bedroom to peer back at him from down the hall. “Oh! Also please make yourself at home!”

In less than a minute, I rush back out, this time dressed in shorts and a large graphic tee. I found Jisung looking at the collection of albums and books on my shelf. I had to stop for a second and stare. He just looked too good. God, seriously who looks like that!

“Coffee?” He startles, turning around to face me, eyes wide and mouth open. I wince, hands going up in a surrender position. “Sorry, I-“

“Yea, I’d love some,” he sounds breathless and my eyes flash up to meet his. He hasn’t looked away from my legs. I squirm in place before walking over to the kitchen area. I start up the stove top coffee maker, fighting everything in me to chew on a fingernail as his presence enters the kitchen. I could feel him come up behind me before the hesitant touch of his hands on my hips occur. 

“Is this okay?” He asks as he pulls me back against his chest, arms wrapping further around me. I nod and lay my hands on top of his covered arms, hands forming fists in his sleeves. His head comes down to snuggle into my neck. “Do you wanna tell me more about your day?”

I pinch at his sleeve, my head falling back on his shoulder as he begins to sway us. 

“It was just- it was so tiring. I felt like it was a lot of small things that normally don’t bother me, but…” I trailed off, feeling a lump forming once again in my throat. 

“But it was too much today?” I pouted, nodding my head, wanting to turn myself in his arms to bury further into his warmth. 

“Yes,” it was cracked whisper that had Jisung turning his head, nose digging into my hair and tightening his arms around me. “Sungie,” I whined out causing him to gasp and grip me even harder. 

“Baby,” he rumbled in my ear, turning me around. His forehead rested against mine, nose lightly brushing against mine. “Thank you for being so honest with me today. You didn’t have to, but I’m so glad you were. Thank you for letting me know and be with you today anyways,” he squeezed me to him, his hands feeling needy and desperate on my body. “I can’t tell you how much I was looking forward to today, I really don’t care how we spend it, I just- I want to be with you and honestly being like this with you, I just- ______, I- baby please tell me you feel it too? I’m not alone in this right?” I shook my head already before he could finish his sentence. My hands gently ran up his arms, feeling the muscle that lay hidden underneath the thick fabric, to his shoulders before entwining behind his neck. I brought my face closer to him, lips grazing his. 

“No, I- it’s not just you,” he whimpered, his hand now dragging my face close to finally have our lips meet. I pushed myself closer to him as he wasted no time to grabbed at my thighs and lift me up on to my counter. Fuck, would kissing him be like this every time? Jisung’s hand dug into my hip, bringing me flush against him as his other hand found its home nestled in my hair at the base of my neck to move me as he wanted. I could feel the heat pulsating in my core, tingles shooting all throughout my body begging for a release. I panted as his lips left mine, no doubt bruised from the dominating pressure, only to gasp loudly as he began to harshly suck, lick and bite at my neck. I pulled roughly at his hair feeling his hips rut against mine. “Fuck.”

Jisung gave me a harsh bite, mumbling against my neck, “language, princess.” 

I moaned loudly, my own hips now thrusting up against him. Jisung hissed, not hiding the hard length in his sweats as he began a sensual roll of his hips to meet mine. I could feel the rough drag of my underwear with each thrust against my clit, the fabric helping to bring me closer to where I wanted to go, but it just wasn’t enough. My hand slid from his hair, nails dragging down his chest, catching lightly at his right nipple through the fabric of his hoodie, causing a deep groan to leave his mouth. My hand continued further down, fingers just beginning to play with the straps of his sweatpants when a sudden loud bubbling noise and water hissing sounded from behind Jisung. 

I gasped withdrawing my hand and sitting up straight to push Jisung off so I could turn the stove off. He stilled my movements, grabbing my hands that pressed into his shoulders, and placing a rushed kiss to my knuckles. He quickly turned, reaching over to flick the dial off. Turning back to me, chest heaving. I must have looked like a mirror-image of him as I tried to calm my own rapid beating heart. My lips felt swollen and neck felt exceedingly warm. There was a steady leak trickling out of me and I clenched my legs to stop it, hands gripping at the ends of my shirt.

“So…”

“Coffee right?” He looked at me with a slight smirk, his eyes playful as he came back towards me, pecking my lips. He pulled back to gaze at me. So many emotions rushing through his eyes that it was hard to focus on any of them, but it all left me feeling warm and sharp pings in my lower stomach. I wanted to rub my thighs together, but a part of me also didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of just how much he affects me. He leaned his hands on either side of me, his face same level as me. His brown eyes were blown wide as he continued to stare at each detail of my face like he was trying to memorize it. I tilted my head, a content smile coming to rest on my face. Oh yea I could definitely get used to this. 

[wheel-of-fics]

Fanfiction Author Interview Game

Thank you for the tag, @kotaka-kun! I'm trying to get back into writing and am forcing myself to get in a better fic-writer mindset.

How many works do you have on AO3?

14 (but more on FFN, from the olden times)

What's your total AO3 word count?

209.294 (442,145 on FFN)

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Unsung

Out of the Woods

Old Haunts

Turnabout

Restoration

(If we're considering legacy FFN stuff, By Starlight would fall just after Unsung, and The Ivory Tower would probably be on the list, but since it's forever unfinished I like to pretend it doesn't exist.)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Usually! Although they sometimes fall through the cracks. I am really, really appreciative of comments and try to respond earnestly, but I feel like my replies start to sound like a broken record and it's awkward.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

IIIII don't know. Maybe Burn? I almost always turn angst into a happy ending by the end of the story. It's self-preservation.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

See previous answer—can't pick one!

Do you write crossovers?

I have not attempted to yet!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I've received several passive-aggressive comments and seen some not-nice things said about my work elsewhere, but I'm not sure I've gotten any straight-up hate comments, thankfully.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do; it's usually a part of a story and not the sole reason for it (though I have done that, too).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, Unsung and maybe something else (?) (it's been a while) has been translated into Chinese.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I think I would drive a co-author insane.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Uhhhh I can't pick, actually...I'll come back to this later (I won't)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Red Death Riding JUST KIDDING but it does feel like that sometimes. Still, we persevere.

What are your writing strengths?

Ughghgh I don't know. I’ve been told I'm good at pacing, and that balance between like inner thoughts and external goings-on. (There is a better way to say that, but I'm tired.) Um...I think I'm pretty good at sentence flow? And...punctuating correctly? I sure hope I'm decent at character development. And I like to think I bring original ideas to the table.

What are your writing weaknesses?

The ideation of it all (though this hasn't always been the case—it's a work in progress), and honestly just getting words on the page. It's so hard to turn off the editor brain I use for work, and I feel like I'm always editing myself before, during, and after every sentence. I also wish I could delve deeper into the thoughts and reactions of characters who aren't like me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Not a huge fan. It can be OK if done well, but it often takes me out of the narrative.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I have enough trouble focusing on my current fic/fandom as it is! Don't make me think about other things!

What's your favorite fic you've written?

I honestly don’t have one. I see each fic as a stepping stone in the course of my writing journey—a challenge that I issued to myself and completed—and I'm usually looking forward to the next challenge instead of back.

I haven't been around much lately and don't know who all has done this! I'll try tagging @musicalhell @les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques @emotionalmotionsicknessxx and @rienerose (but please feel free to ignore!).

[jacelandon]

November DWC 2024 Day 4 - Tranquil

He had assumed her to be a spirit at first. She wasn’t the first nor would she be the last unfamiliar soul that Jace encountered in these parts; it was common knowledge among the carnies that should you perish on Darkmoon Island, it was difficult, if not impossible, to leave. It wasn’t a frightening sight, nor unusual for the ghosts to gain enough energy and show themselves every now and then, especially during the witching hours. 

She didn’t notice him watching her, nor did she seem to have any qualms about stepping into that dark forest, hand extended in front of herself as if she were being led. Curiosity got the better of Jace and he quietly followed; he was one of the few that had nothing to fear here, and if she were just a spirit, neither should she. He wrapped his arms around his core to aid in keeping the warmth in, the forests could get chilly during the night and despite the thick canopy of trees and foliage, it had always felt colder here than anywhere else on the island. 

Her movements were graceful, almost like those of a trained ballerina, and her opalescent, sheer gown did nothing to shield her against the frigid temperature; not that she seemed to care. When she reached the clearing at the center of the forest, she paused, unblinking. There she stood and stared for what felt like hours at something unseen; light, wavy hair billowing in the breezeless space. It was completely devoid of sound here, almost as if one were inside of an anechoic chamber. The fauna knew to avoid this cursed place, making it all the more unsettling. Jace could hear the sound of his own heart beating and blood circulating through his veins, even with shallow breaths, he could hear his lungs and diaphragm expanding and contracting with each gentle rise and fall.

It was always uncomfortable, but he was mesmerized. 

Eventually she stepped closer to the center of the clearing, arm extending and reaching for something he couldn’t see. With a slight shift of his weight, a branch creaked beneath his boot and the spectral woman startled and stumbled backwards, an expression of horror replacing the previously tranquil one. But she wasn’t looking at him, she was still staring at something unseen to him and suddenly vanished.

Jace stood up straighter and briskly made his way towards the space she had previously occupied, looking around for something, anything. He wasn’t even sure what. 

She was gone.

He made his way back towards his camp with a melody in his head that demanded to be written down: Her theme. Everyone had their own theme, and sometimes it took a while for him to determine what would fit a specific person. However, once he had his empty staff paper in hand, the entire song flowed freely.

~ 1 ½ Years Later ~

Jace sat on the ledge at Fancy Cakes, sipping quietly on his coffee as he watched the other patrons. Indulging in some sweet treats was an excellent way to begin a night of busking, and he tried to make it a habit to come here at least once a month. 

The evening was relatively quieter than usual, but he never minded just chilling and being with others. Deep blue eyes watched as the blonde-haired woman wandered up the steps to give her order to Braedyn, and when she turned around he nearly choked on his coffee. He didn’t give himself away, his poker face had grown too strong throughout the years of working for Silas Darkmoon. It had been well over a year now, but he knew. The theme came back into his mind the moment he saw her face.

This was her. The ‘spirit’ he had seen in the Darkmoon Forest. Alive and in the flesh. How could this be possible?

This references a story you can read ---> HERE

@daily-writing-challenge @karaamberlight

[muse-legion]

"You know," laughed William lightly at this unexpected twist in their conversation, "I can't believe you chose him! But hey—everyone needs love. And seeing as for the time you’ve been dating him, he was a little more bearable at work, I should probably thank you for taking one for the team.“ As they exchanged anecdotes about difficult patients and long shifts fueled by coffee far too late into the night, William couldn't help appreciating Lance’s tenacity—the way she balanced professional stress with personal joys even when navigating through complex relationships within their chaotic world. Their conversation flowed easily until laughter replaced gravity momentarily, as they reminisced on absurdities experienced around erratic work hours—leaving behind lines drawn by personalities only made sharper under pressure. „At least they’re trying. And to be honest, I have no idea how well I’d do trying to support my better half in labor. I think it’s one of those situations you can imagine and go over in your head all you want, but once it actually happens, you’ll probably react completely differently to what you’d thought.” He could only guess considering he’d never been in that situation. “Good news is, it’s in the past. Now let’s focus on what really matters, shall we? The present and the future. Will chuckled, raising his glass once more before he took a gulp. “Great! I love the idea and I really feel like pets help to calm down. Too bad with our schedules it wouldn’t be fair on them to have my own. Otherwise I would be a regular at the shelters.”

"Yeah that's fair." It wasn't likely to be the patients that would make Lance want to walk away, it was more the idiots who thought they knew how to do her job whilst knowing the complete opposite. And whilst she was good with patients when it came to fools she had never been the best person at tolerating them. Especially fools who considered themselves educated. "I suppose it must be different in the ER, it's rarely directed at you. I get to hear it directed at the partner who's trying to be supportive and not doing very well." Or the partners who sat on the couch and complained about not being comfortable. Lance took great pleasure in kicking those people out of the room and reminding them that it was always about the person giving birth. Groaning playfully she rested her head in her hands, "I know. It was not on the highlight reel of my good decisions." If anything it might have been one of the worst decisions she could have made. "Yeah if you think he's bad at work he's not so different outside of it." That was why she had eventually walked away, some modicum of self respect that told her that she deserved better than this. "That sounds good. Of course I like cats and dogs. I'm not some kind of psychopath."

[distant-velleity]

guess who made another ridiculously long comic about yuhua aw yeahhhhh. i never get tired of tormenting him. but this time it involves.... my yumeship ⁉⁉⁉

~

(11 pages, read each one from left -> right)

~

taglist:

@thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @scint1llat3 @nyx-of-night @nemisisnemi

@beneathsakurashade @sillyslipperybananapeel @kathxrat-01 @lumdays @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.