#when in reality it’s hurting them and others

[edisacornball]

I hate to say this, because it's a really soul-crushing answer, but there isn't going to be a clear enemy, especially if people are trying to claim that all of a demographic is the enemy. This is an all or none fallacy. If an organization or person is trying to convince you that all the people of one demographic are your enemy, it's a way of creating alienation, isolation, and dehumanization. This is how soliders justify that it's okay to kill "the enemy" in a war.

The enemy isn't an entire demographic. Think of the other times in your life when you've been convinced that an entire demographic thinks or feels or believes in one way. Were there any times you were forced to confront that that wasn't actually the case? Okay, now also think about a time you met a stranger who immediately formed opinions about you just based on traits about you that you have no control over. How did that feel? Were they right and that's actually who you are? Or was it just easier for them to dismiss you that way?

It's hard. It's really, really, really hard. Part of the whole way our brains work is that we're trained to look for patterns and shortcut work whenever we can. Sometimes that means making quick, easy assumptions. But sometimes, we have to take the time, effort, and work to recognize that sometimes we built our pattern recognition from really faulty sources. Like Hollywood. Or a racist upbringing. Sometimes, we grow up not knowing that the ideas around us can really hurt the people around us, and it's really hard to recognize how deeply that can work into our own psyche.

The hard pill to swallow is that other humans are not your enemy. Stop going for the easy answer. It's easy to hate a gender, a race, a religion and say anyone associated with it is the "enemy." Don't be so naive as to believe that the enemy is a tangible being, a supervillain wrapped in an easy package to defeat. The difference between stories and life isn't "reality," it's complexity. Stories are based in truth, absolutely, but a shrunk down and simplified truth, able to fit an entire lifetime inside, what, less than 500 pages? Life is so much more complicated, and that's what people are trying to mean when they say "stories aren't real."

The "enemy" isn't a race, a religion, a nation, an age, or even a gender. It's so much more intangible and insidious than that. Because it's just... belief. Belief that some are better than others. Belief that anyone is deserving of pain. Belief that some people should be prevented from building happy, stable lives. Belief that exists a concept such as a person not doing "enough" with their life. And the hardest part of accepting that as the enemy... is accepting that you're going to see it in yourself a lot. And it's probably actively hurting you.

TL;DR: The enemy is hate.

garden variety conservative transphobia is going to get worse but radical feminism is also going to get worse. if youre a cis women terfs are going to try to recruit you and make you believe that the reason your rights are at stake is because of trans people. they're going to tell you that all men are your violent oppressors and they're going to include trans women in that category. they're gonna tell you about women who are gender traitors and joined the enemy and they're going to point to trans men. don't believe them. trans people are not your enemy, we have no power over you, and we desperately need your support and your solidarity.

be aware of radfem pipelines and dog whistles too. be skeptical of anyone that talks about the divine feminine or correlates birthing, menstruating, or female reproductive organs with womanhood. be especially skeptical of people who use those biological things as reasons to why women are more spiritual, or more in tune with nature, or just that they're better than men (read: anyone they decide is a man)

radical feminism is an expected reactionary outcome from cis women who are being oppressed by conservatives, especially when all they practice is ciscentric, liberal, white feminism. they feel the need to be radicalized but don't have the experience and information to pinpoint the true source of their suffering. trans people are not your enemy, AMAB people are not your enemy, anyone who identifies as a man is not your enemy. we're all being crushed under the same stone

[revelboo]

as the other metroplex writer on this website, I feel you. I understand your pain. I made the call early on to not do the idw 'they can only talk to the cityspeaker' because I knew I would immediately proceed to write myself into a corner lmao. (although I decided against giving him superfine control over his inner mechanisms, which is its own set of challenges)

Good luck, soldier! It's just us out here doing Primus' work

He’s a fun challenge to write, but I feel for the big guy so much

I Can Feel You Pt 4

IDW Metroplex x Reader

• By morning, the glyphs are gone leaving you disappointed and wondering if just maybe you’d imagined it all or dreamed it. If you’d been able to take a picture, you could have asked someone else to read it to you, because if Metroplex is reaching out? You want to answer him. Staring at the spot the writing had appeared doesn’t offer any answers. What was it Hound had said? Something about a city speaker? “Are you trying to talk to me?” You ask, but the Titan is quiet and still around you.

• Halfway between waking and recharge because of the energy he’d expended trying to focus, to communicate, he’s half alert as he tracks you. Drifting in and out, but aware of you all the same, his little anchor to reality. Sometimes in his dreams he’s closer to your size and when he reaches out a hand, you come to him, let him pull your warmth into his body and just hold you in his arms. But even there, you can’t hear him. There, holding you, but still isolated and it hurts. You’re speaking again and it pulls him into alertness. Focusing on you as you reach out a little hand to Hound as the mech kneels in front of you.

• “City speakers?” Hound repeats, idly toying with one of his alt mode’s tires. “They could speak to the Titans. Hear them. Don’t know if they ever were real, though. Might have been just a legend.” It’s not exactly what you want to hear and you wrap your arms about yourself. Remembering those glyphs showing up slowly one by one like it was taking the massive Autobot an effort. Like it cost him something to try and it has been for nothing. Whatever he was trying to say lost on you, because you couldn’t understand.

• “How hard is it to learn Cybertronian?” You slowly ask and his massive spark aches at the determination in your voice. Because you’re trying for him, trying to find a way to speak to him. Reaching out a hand to him just like he’s reaching out to you. And he wants so much to protect this feeling, to protect you. Throughout the day, he tracks you like he always does. Listening to you telling him you have an idea. Watches you request a human sized data pad from Bumblebee loaded with simple educational programs meant for sparklings.

• Back in the little home Metroplex fashioned, you stretch out on the floor with the data pad. Flicking at the screen, searching until you pause. Half drowsing, relaxed at the feel of your little heart beating against him, it’s the touch of your warm fingers that focuses him again. You’re tracing shapes against him, your bottom lip between your teeth. Hesitating, then drawing again. And again. The same shapes. You’re spelling out a simple word he realizes, a ‘hello’ and now he’s wide awake. “Can you even feel this? Or understand?” You murmur and he focuses, mimicking your crude glyphs with an effort. Replying and feeling warmth spread through him when you grin. Can you understand how much this means to him? How precious you are to him for trying? For caring? “Hi, Metroplex,” you whisper as he wishes that his arms could hold you.

Previous

[thatrandomsarahchick]

Dc x dp prompt

I'm not sure if anyone done this before.

Batman is taking down the Court of Owls with the help of a small specialist government task force. They have weapons that can target the undead and put them to rest.

Batman allows the weapons because they don't hurt regular humans, only the undead. He's also glad that he can finally put the spirits to rest peacefully, as they can't be exorcised, and the bodies won't stop moving until the trapped soul is released.

The GIW had sent a small team of their best agents to Gotham to scope out rumours that the rogues and vigilantes there were all ghosts. Thankfully, the Bat, who was just a human or a meta, was willing to accept their input when they came across him being attacked by a small horde of Undead.

The changeling that went by the name Robin was even able to help them improve their weapons! There was much less recoil now, and they were able to lock onto a target with much higher accuracy.

Unfortunately, they couldn't stay for long. They had to get back Amity, as a situation was beginning to unfold there. A small town that sat on a thin spot in reality had just had a stable tear open, and the undead were flooding in.

One of their junior agents said that they had taken to mimicking the locals, to try and engender sympathy, before turning around and attacking everyone in sight.

Batman was grateful for the information. From his own research into the matter, the local ghost hunters were definitely ill-equipped to handle the situation. He gave the agent in charge a way to contact him, then set about flagging the town in the JL systems. Any calls from the town were to be checked for authenticity by himself or a other Bat before being responded to - the local rogues had a way to possess others and make them commit crimes or acts of violence. Any calls made against the GIW agents were to be sent to him directly so that he could pass it forward to the relevant authorities, as the rogues liked to cause chaos and dissent amongst allies. Thankfully, the agent he was in communication with was able to quickly determine them as not being true ghosts, but actually baby poltergeists.

Batman updated the system to make that section of Illinois a no-fly zone. The LAST thing they needed was a possessed superpowered person.

[elumish]

On Radicalization

I'm seeing a lot of people now talking about radicalization (for obvious reasons) and I want to put my two cents into it.

I'm not a radicalization expert by any means, but I have my MA in terrorism studies, and I'm currently pursuing a PhD in security studies, so radicalization is a thing that I have talked/thought about a fair amount.

I think one of the most important things to understand when you think about radicalization is that "radical" and "extremist" are both relative. Generally, when we're talking about radicalization, we're talking about a sharp political shift to a position outside of what we would consider the norm. What's radical in a liberal city in the United States in 2024 is vastly different from both what would have been radical in that city 150 years earlier and what is radical in some other countries right now.

For much of the last 2+ decades (or at least ~2001-2019), most of what was talked about with radicalization was in the context of islamist terrorism/violent extremism. People around the world were trying to figure out why people (especially in Western countries) were joining al Qaeda or ISIS or why people in Afghanistan were joining the Taliban, etc. What was it that drove one person to do that and another person not to--and, what was it that drove one person with those ideological beliefs to commit violence and one person not to.

Right now, in the US, what a lot of people are talking about is why people (namely young white men) are shifting dramatically to the right, particularly socially, and ending up in the political far right. In particular, why are they now advocating for (or at least voting for people who advocate for) taking away rights that are ~50 years old, as well as being more openly white/Christian supremacist than was socially acceptable 25 years ago, and why are some of them committing far right violence?

I think some of the reality that we have to face is that people have been advocating against abortion (and to a lesser degree birth control) access for those entire 50 years, and people have been white/Christian supremacists this entire time, and we just had a brief period of time when it was a little less okay to say out loud. But anyone old enough to remember the Obama campaigns remembers that the opposition to them was virulently racist and Christian supremacist.

But radicalization is happening, so let's talk about some of the ways that it happens in general. None of these are universally true, and what might radicalize one person might not radicalize another.

Social isolation. Social isolation is an extremely common factor in radicalization. Communities generally do two things: they act as a moderating force, and they give people ties that discourage violence. When studying islamist radicalization, from what I remember, conversion was a factor in likelihood of radicalization--not because there is something inherently radicalizing in the act of converting to a religion, but because converts often found resources online or with communities that specifically targeted new people, ones that were less ideologically moderate.

People who convert are also I think in some cases the people who are more likely to be ideologically driven anyway, because it is more work to convert and so you would only do so if you have a stronger ideological belief in it. You see this with some Catholic converts (e.g., Vance)--they are often more conservative and don't necessarily reflect mainstream Catholic teachings because they didn't grow up in a Catholic community as much as intentionally looking for the things that would make them The Most CatholicTM (ironically and hilariously one of those seems to be disagreeing with the Pope, which is approximately the least Catholic thing you can do).

if you have a community, you're generally also less likely to try to hurt people in that community because they're people you care about. Not a universal truth, obviously, but in aggregate. Being in a community also means that there are people who can tell you that what you're saying is extreme and walk you back from it. If you're isolated, nobody will tell you that.

But overall being isolated makes you more likely to feel like nobody likes or cares about you, which can make you angry and disaffected and looking for someone to blame, and it also makes you far more vulnerable to people who are looking to recruit. If you think everyone hates you and then someone tells you that everyone does hate you except for them, you're probably going to listen to them.

Relative depravation. Relative depravation is the idea that the radicalizing factor isn't having nothing, it's having something and seeing people who have more so you feel like you have nothing. I remember this came up when people were studying who in Afghanistan joined the Taliban, and it was often people who were more middle class rather than people living in poverty. The people living in poverty didn't have time to be radicalized because they needed to put food on the table, but the middle class people could see how good other people had it and how bad they had it and it made them mad. (I am vastly oversimplifying a study I remember from 10 years ago--it's a lot more complicated than this.)

But in the US, we're seeing this with men (who have, on an objective basis, lost political power in the US), and with white people (who have, on that same objective basis, lost political power in the US), and with people from geographic regions that used to have much stronger economies and better opportunities but don't anymore (e.g., coal areas, manufacturing areas). They can look at other people (e.g., women, POC) and say "I lost power and you gained power because I lost power, that's not fair and it's hurting me" or "it used to be better but now it's bad, that's not fair and it's hurting me" and then they get mad about it. And some subset of people who get mad about it decide to hurt people over it, or at the very least they vote to try to get it to not be like that anymore. They want to go back, because to them, back was better.

Radicalized education. One of the reasons why white women are so valuable to the white supremacist movement is not just that they can have white children, but that they can teach those white children. Some of this starts at home, or in the schools, or in the churches. And it's not necessarily radicalization if it starts that way (because people aren't moving politically so much as just being), but there are tens of thousands if not millions of children right now who are learning misogynist, queerphobic, and white supremacist ideas in all forms of their education. Those children who learn the benevolent slaveholder narrative or the states rights idea or that Jews killed Jesus or whatever grow up to be adults, and some of them vote, and some of them vote Republican because the ideas Republicans are spouting are the ideas that they were taught.

Suffering under real or perceived oppression. One of the goals of terrorism, in some cases, is to spark an overblown government reaction, which will then radicalize the populace into rising up against them. This is because, sometimes, for some people, that works--some people suffering under oppression or what they perceive is oppression will become increasingly anti-government (or anti-whoever is oppressing them) and that will sometimes turn violent.

The thing to remember here is that oppression is also in the eye of the beholder, to some degree. By the standards of some right-wing Evangelicals, for example, they are oppressed by the secular federal government, which keeps them from practicing their religion in the way that they see fit.

Justice by any means. This isn't exactly a way that people are radicalized, but one thing I see in people I would consider radicalized on basically all ideological fronts is this idea that justice (or winning) should come by any means. You see this in people who burn abortion clinics or kill abortion providers to "save babies" and people who kill cops as a solution to police brutality and people who stone gay people to death. The idea that your ends justify your means is, to me, a core to true radicalism.

The reality is this: if there was one way to stop radicalization, countries would have done it decades ago. Sometimes it's about drawing people into a community, and sometimes it's about getting them out of the community that is radicalizing them. Sometimes it's about being kind or compassionate to a single human being, and sometimes it's about showing them that they are operating against their own self-interest.

And sometimes it's just about damage control and about keeping someone who is already radicalized and looking to do violence from doing violence.

[hotshotsxyz]

heart is beating heavily

(buddie) (s8 spec) (1k) several people asked for more of this town is only gonna eat you so this is that. unfortunately i am still feeling evil, so please enjoy buck's pov of the same events :) btw the title of both of these fics comes from the song bloody shirt by to kill a king, which i played on repeat while writing these cw: mass shooting / gun violence

Buck’s breath leaves him in a sharp exhale when he hits the ground. It hurts, but not—not where it should. His chest, his back, they’re on fire. His head, though, as violently as he was thrown to the ground, never makes contact with the cement.

The only thing he can see now is Eddie. Eddie, hovering above him, eyes wild. He looks—cornered. Trapped. Only he’s the one pressing Buck into the sticky floor of the arena, not the other way around, and he doesn’t understand why.

“Eds,” he tries to say, but it comes out as more of a croak.

Eddie shakes his head sharply, almost—

Panicked.

Buck takes a breath and it hurts. His thoughts feel sluggish in a way they never really are. He tries to take stock of what he knows anyway.

His body is screaming in pain.

Eddie is afraid. (Why is Eddie afraid? What could possibly—)

They’re on the floor. (Eddie pushed him to the floor. Why would he—)

The space around them is filled with a cacophonous noise that Buck can’t quite identify.

Pain. Fear. Sharp popping noises that make Buck’s ears hurt, and—

Screaming.

Oh.

Buck presses his lips together and tips his chin toward his chest in an approximation of a nod. Eddie exhales, warm against his cheek. His face does something complicated, and then—

I’m sorry, Eddie mouths, and before Buck can figure out what for, white hot pain lances through his chest.

In his mind he screams.

In reality, he bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. They’re in danger, and he won’t—As long as he’s still breathing, Eddie won’t leave him here. Even if he should. He won’t protect himself, won’t run, won’t hide. The least Buck can do is keep from drawing attention toward them, but in the moment, it feels like the hardest thing he’s ever done.

“—so good,” Eddie breathes into his ear. “I got you; I promise.”

Buck wants to believe that almost as much as he wishes Eddie would just save himself. Every breath he takes is harder than the one before, though, and it occurs to him that soon, he might draw his last. If he has to die, Eddie’s face is a pretty incredible last thing to see. He just wishes it wasn’t twisted in pain and fear.

It takes a minute for Buck to catch up with his own thoughts. Pain. That’s—he’s seen it in Eddie’s expression enough times to know it intimately. Why is he in pain? Eddie presses his cheek to Buck’s before he can interrogate the expression further.

“Slow, steady breaths, okay? You have to breathe through it, even if it feels like you can’t.”

The scrape of Eddie’s jaw against his sends something like a shiver down Buck’s spine. There’s something—something important, but—it feels just out of reach.

“You have to, Buck, I can’t—I just need you to hold on,” Eddie whispers, quietly wrecked.

He’s trying. God is he trying. But it’s—every breath feels like pulling fire into his lungs. With every exhale, he feels a tiny bit weaker, a tiny bit worse. Eddie pulls away slightly, and Buck feels the absence like a missing rib.

“Hear that?” Eddie asks, brushing a thumb across Buck’s cheekbone.

He doesn’t—he doesn’t hear anything other than Eddie, but he’s not sure he wants to.

“We’re so close, Buck.”

Something settles in his chest at the sound of his name on Eddie’s lips, louder than before, drenched in something that sounds like relief. He blinks once, twice, slow and heavy.

“Come on, eyes on me,” Eddie says sharply. And—oh, when did he get so far away?

Eddie pulls the hem of his shirt to his teeth and—oh god. That’s not Buck’s blood. He’s—Eddie’s hurt too, but Buck can’t make his mouth work, can’t even keep his eyes open long enough to—

“No!” Eddie commands. A new pain accompanies his voice. “You’re staying right here with me, got it?”

He has to—has to tell Eddie—he doesn’t—

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect,” Eddie says, eyes shining.

A lump forms in his throat.

“Just keep—c’mon Buck, just keep fighting. I need—you have to be okay.”

He does. He does have to be okay because Eddie’s not and he’s acting like he doesn’t even know.

“Hurt,” Buck forces out.

“I know,” Eddie says, but he doesn’t! “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

Buck lets out a frustrated groan. He tries to shake his head, and when that fails, to lift his hand to Eddie’s abdomen.

Eddie turns away from him, and if Buck could scream now, he would.

“Alright,” he says, turning back to Buck. “I’m going to get you onto that gurney. Let me do all the work, okay?”

No! No he can’t! Buck tries to tell him again, tries to force anything through his lips that Eddie will understand. You’re—“hurt,” he manages again. He can’t even lift his hand now. He’s dying and he’s going to take Eddie with him.

Eddie says something he can’t parse, and suddenly he’s moving, being lifted dizzyingly high off the ground. He sees—

A body. A swarm of cops. Uniformed paramedics and EMTs running in every direction imaginable.

One of them, he just needs one of them to look at Eddie. He just needs one of them to see. He’s still walking, still talking. He still has time.

Eddie drops him onto what must be a gurney, and immediately it begins to roll. Buck allows his head to loll away from Eddie and towards—

An EMT! She can—she can do something. She can—

She’s not looking at him.

She’s not looking at Eddie either. She’s looking straight ahead and under any other circumstances Buck would compliment her for her pragmatic understanding of the urgency of the situation. But she’s walking too fast and Eddie’s beginning to stumble.

“Diaz, is that—” Yes, yes! Someone sees him. Someone else knows—

“—were you shot?”

Buck gets his head around just in time to watch Eddie collapse into the arms of a firefighter he doesn’t recognize.

He wants to scream, to sob, to thrash against the restraints keeping him on the gurney. He wants to—

Wants to—

Needs—

Eddie.

[respectthepetty]

To begin episode ten of Jack & Joker with Jack and Joke laying in Jack's bed with his color on them (not a euphemism) and Joke's color disregarded on his bed hurts a bit in retrospect knowing how it all ends in that hospital waiting room.

Because although Jack was much lighter the next day, and Joke was back in his signature red,

The color quickly started draining from the community.

So while Joke wanted Jack to live happily in their little colorful bubble the same way Rose attempted before with Jack, everyone else was losing their color adjusting to their new realities.

Joke has always been quick to abandoned his color in preference for Jack's, so it was nice to see that the sign they made incorporated both of their colors, and their daughter, in pink, was the love between them.

So the boys continued to live in their colorful bubble

But, once again, just as Aran immediately pointed out about Rose's grand entrance,

This little colorful bubble is all fake.

So as much as I was thrilled that Aran made matching buttons for Tattoo to wear with him that incorporated a blue background and red heart for the main couple ,

It wasn't long before Aran willingly gave up his heart to Hoy. And I think that is important. Nobody is really being selfish here. They continue to do everything for others, and they sacrifice for others. Aran gave his button to Hoy so he wouldn't be sad. Tattoo stole the necklace so his mom wouldn't get hurt. Joke stole the ring so Jack could be free.

Jack is lighter, so obviously it worked! But I think this is also why the color is draining from all the others as well. They are community, so their colors align as they have matured, which brown represents.

But brown is also a sign of decay and sadness, so even when Jack and Joke (and Aran) try to escape being part of a community and live selfishly in their own happy bubble, the hurt of the community will still seep through.

They can't just simply walk away from it.

So it's amazing that the kids are the brightest of the bunch.

They are impacted just as much as the adults, but where the adults are resigned to the fact that this life, the kids still have color and the willingness to fight, together.

Joke with a little of his red had to convince to group of adults to fight together because as Hoy said, it's easier to fight as hundreds against an army of ten, and when Toi Ting came up with a plan, the other kids quickly followed their leader.

Which is why I think Aran is so important to this plot. His father is gaining power like Thanos, and his aunt has directly and indirectly helped him attain it, but even though Aran wants to run away from the fight, he continues to stay and help the community when he doesn't have to. He started off selfish, yet he gives Hoy his heart when he doesn't have to. He makes Jack a hat. He helps Joke steal the ring. He is part of this community. But he is also the outcome of his family.

Boss and Nang are two extremes. The reveal that they are siblings who parents died due to the Four Horsemen's actions makes their dynamic more interesting because they have dealt with this trauma in completely different ways. Nang, in her white, tells her followers to abandon the power money has over them by ridding themselves of their possessions, while Boss, in his black, decided inheriting power through oppressing others was the only way to achieve success.

Yet Nang helped her brother. Several times. So regardless of what she wanted, she still helped the person she loves just like all these other characters have done.

And just like everyone else, the consequences are dire.

Aran has proven that a person can't be selfish like his father but a person shouldn't sacrifice their entire life for others like Nang. There must be a balance. He couldn't sacrifice himself and marry Rose for his dad, and he is still true to himself while helping others in the ways he can.

He knows that sometimes, the best way to support others is by simply being there for them, which is something he never got without paying people.

So in the end, Joke, who is at his lowest in that hospital waiting room, has the hands of his friends on him to comfort him in his time of need.

And Jack, even though alone in his grief, is still wearing Joke's red.

No man is an island.

And nobody can change the world on his own.

Because people need people. People need to know they are supported and loved. People need to know they aren't being judged and that their burdens can be shared.

And Aran has shown that.

Because Tattoo helped him understand it.

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ LOVE HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT 𖤐. — yang jungwon.

pairing: idol! jungwon x fem! reader. content: idol au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is female, reader is not an idol here, reader got stood up (not by jungwon), confession, fluff. wc: 1.7k

FROM HYE: childhood friends to lovers troupe will always hit idc!!! idk why this became kinda long though, whoops... ALSO NO DOUBT AND DAYDREAM IS SO GOOD IM ASCENDING

This cannot be happening. 

You sighed for the unknown time, leaning back in your seat as you tapped your phone. The screen lit up upon your brief contact but as always, there was no new notification from your boyfriend. Nearly an hour had passed and you were sure your current state was gathering unwanted pitiful glances thrown your way. You knew what they were thinking. In their eyes, they saw a dressed-up young adult, excited for her date with her boyfriend, only to get stood up and had been hopelessly waiting there, like a complete fool. 

You finished the drink and decided to leave, having waited long enough. You stepped out of the cafe, the door gently closing behind you as you pulled out your phone to call the first person you thought of. It only took two rings before the intended receiver picked up. 

“Hello? (Name), aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Sungjin?” Jungwon asked, concern evident in his voice. His questions put a smile on your face, probably at the fact that he knows your schedule for the day, despite how he was in the midst of practice when you heard music coming from his background on the other line. 

Your prolonged silence was starting to scare the idol, who had stepped out of the practice room after signaling to his members that he was on a call. Jungwon frowns when his ears register the poorly stifled sounds of you sobbing. Hearing you breaking down is similar to getting shot in the heart. 

“(Name), what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me,” he continued in a soft and assuring tone. 

“I… I got stood up. I waited there for an hour and Sungjin didn’t turned up, making me look like a fucking idiot,” you replied through your tears, letting out a bitter chuckle. 

Jungwon's grip on his phone tightened as he listened to you, his jaw clenching when he realized the pain in your voice. The news hit him like a blow: once again, you have been left standing alone, waiting for someone who clearly did not deserve you. His eyes darkened, a storm of anger brewing in them.

“Wait,” he interrupted, his voice low but seething. “He… stood you up? Again?”

You let out a sigh on the other end, trying to laugh it off, but Jungwon could hear the hurt behind it. That was all it took. He took the stairs instead of the lift, stepping out of the company. His sudden disappearance will surely cause his manager to be worried and how he had forgotten his mask would make the situation even worse. But none of that matters when it comes to you. 

“Where are you?” he demanded, his tone softening just a bit when he spoke to you. But there was an undeniable edge to his words, a mix of frustration and protectiveness that seeped through.

"Jungwon, you don’t have to—"

“Just tell me,” he insisted, his voice firm but reassuring. “I need to know where you are. I’m coming to you.”

“...I’m at the park we played at when we were kids,” you replied, knowing your childhood friend is very persistent when the times required him to be. 

Somehow, your feet had led you to the place where you had created countless memories with Jungwon. You took a seat on one of the nearest benches, watching as people of all ages minded their business. Some were having fun with their children or partners. There were children running around the playground area, screaming at the top of their lungs as they chased one another. The sight made your heart soften, as you remembered how you and Jungwon were just like them; having the time of your lives before the harsh reality of life combined with responsibilities had taken over you. 

“(Name)!” 

You turned at the shout of your name, eyes widening in pure disbelief at the sight of Jungwon rushing towards you without a care in the world. What rendered you speechless was how he had forgotten to hide his identity, resulting in the public stopping to openly gape at him. Some had even pulled out their phones to record him, ready to post it on the Internet. Flustered, you stood up, grabbed his hand and dragged him to your home. 

When the both of you are in the privacy of your home, you turned and smacked him on his head. 

“Ow! What was that for!?” He yelped, rubbing the spot with his hand. 

“You idiot! Why did you run out in the midst of practice, and without a hat or a mask too!? What’s going to happen if your manager hears you ditch practice!” You scolded him, resembling a mother scolding her child. 

“Alright, I’m sorry! The thought might have slipped my mind when I heard you were crying,” he admits with a sheepish grin on his face, lowering his hand. 

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Look, it’s fine. You didn’t have to come all the way here. I’m sure Sungjin’s probably busy with work and he had forgotten to text me.” 

Jungwon gave you an unreadable look. “You’re always making excuses for him.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he tried to rein in his emotions. 

“Tell me, has he done anything good for you in this relationship? Has he ever gone out of his way to make you feel loved, or even just… appreciated?”

You were silent, and he took this as a chance to continue. 

“But what about you? You deserve someone who’d show up without a second thought, someone who’d want to be with you, not leave you hanging like this,” Jungwon continued. 

You opened and closed your mouth. “I—” 

He exhaled sharply. “You don’t get it, do you?” He said, his voice softer but laced with pure honesty that made your heart race. “I’ve been here, right by your side, through all of it. I’ve watched you get your heart broken over and over… and every time, I keep hoping you’ll see what’s right in front of you.” 

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. 

“I can’t stand seeing you hurt anymore,” he whispered, his eyes glistening as he held your gaze. “Because I love you. And I would never leave you waiting, not even for a second.”

“Jungwon, I…” You struggled to find the words, feeling a mix of shock and confusion. “You’ve… always been there. I just—”

“You didn’t know,” he finished softly, looking down for a moment, a faint sadness in his eyes. “I know. I never wanted to push you or complicate things. I just wanted you to be happy.” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice lowering. 

“But seeing you go through this again, seeing someone else treat you like you’re disposable, when I know you’re anything but… I can’t keep quiet anymore.”

Your chest tightened, a wave of emotions you had not expected crashing over you. All those times he had offered a shoulder to cry on, the countless moments had picked you up when you were at your lowest—had they all been laced with feelings you’d missed? Slowly, you reached out, placing your hand over his. His fingers were tense beneath yours, but at your touch, he glanced up, searching your face with an expression that was both hopeful and terrified.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He looked at you, his eyes raw with vulnerability. “Because I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to risk our friendship over something I could never take back.” His hand turned under yours, holding it gently as he continued. “But now… I can’t pretend anymore. You deserve someone who’s there, through every high and low, someone who sees you for who you are.”

The words touched something deep within you, warming your heart in a way you hadn’t expected. As you looked into his eyes, the realization hit you like a flood—Jungwon had been that someone all along.

With a breath, you leaned closer, feeling a sense of clarity for the first time. “Maybe I’ve been blind,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But now… I see you.”

A spark of hope flickered in his eyes, and without another word, he closed the distance, his forehead resting gently against yours. You saw how his eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment. He was about to lean in when the moment was rudely interrupted by your phone ringing, causing you to pull away. Your face felt when you recognized the number. You were about to reject the call when Jungwon snatched the device out of your hand, accepted the call and put it on speaker mode. 

“What are you doing!?” You hissed, but he merely shushed you. 

“Hello, (Name)? Oh my god, I’m so sorry I missed out on our date. Are you still there? If you want, I’m free now and we can have dinner together if you want,” Sungjin’s frantic voice echoed throughout your apartment. 

“Sungjin, is it? Sorry but your relationship with her is officially over. I’ll greatly appreciate it if you could leave her alone,” Jungwon nonchalantly replied, his thumb drawing circles on your knuckles. 

“...Who is this? And what’s your relationship with my girlfriend?” Sungjin’s voice turned cold but Jungwon was unfazed, turning to face you with a wide grin on his face. 

“Me? I’m her new boyfriend and now if you could excuse us, we have a date to tend to, goodbye and see you never.” 

“Wait—” 

And just like that, Jungwon ended the call. He had even blocked his number, preventing your now ex from calling you anymore. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing. Jungwon puffed his cheeks. 

“What’s so funny?” He pouts. 

“N-Nothing, I didn’t expect the leader of ENHYPEN to be this bold, but since when we’re going on a date and since when you’re my boyfriend? I think you have skipped a few steps,” you teased him once you had calmed down. 

Jungwon’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Then (Name), would you do me the honors of being my girlfriend?” 

Chuckling, you moved closer to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “Of course, Jungwon. I’d be more than happy to do so.” 

He made a noise of happiness before engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug, to which you returned the gesture. “You have no idea how happy I am right now.” 

“And what’s the reason?” You inquired when he pulled away to admire your face. 

Jungwon’s features softened as he cups your cheeks. “It’s because I finally got the prettiest girl and I can finally call her mine.” 

[nahte123456]

Not to say this is entirely wrong, but as Isshin and Ryuken both literally say Isshin is a shit parent

It might be a bit messy, but I think the point is Isshin can't be fully open. Isshin is the problem, and unfortunately that hurts Ichigo more then anyone else. We see this other times, Toshiro says when Isshin goes to fight White that Isshin was fooling him and Matsumoto so they didn't follow, Isshin says he lied to Masaki about being kicked out of SS, the twins are still being lied to(I honestly don't know if they ever learned they are Quincy? If so I'd guess Ichigo forced the issue not Isshin).

Isshin can not be open and connect with people. He lies to his subordinates, his wife, his kids. He always refuses to confess his own position to others. Perhaps the only character in the entire series we know he is open to are Ryuken and Urahara, and he doesn't have a choice in the matter since they are always there, and even then that's debatable(there's no sign he's talked about his wife dying with them, or his feelings on other events).

Oetsu is cruel to Ichigo to try and force him to learn his origins, and ultimately Ichigo does so and gets his approval. Kisuke is cruel because Ichigo has to be strong, and Ichigo always appreciates it. Isshin is cruel to Ichigo because he won't open up to his damn son until all of reality is literally at stake and Ichigo is just such a kind guy he thanks the idiot.

Bleach chapter 529

[sparklyskies0]

𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙚 c.s + m.s

chapter one : ❛ exes and blunts ❜

⚠️𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚 ⚠️

𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙜 𝙪𝙨𝙚, 𝙨𝙚𝙭 (𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩), 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙚, 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙜 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙/𝙪𝙣𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙚𝙨, angst 𝙚𝙩𝙘..

Your head hurts from all the music and loud chattering. Faint sounds of glass breaking, people cheering. The smell of smoke and alcohol invading your nose and you can’t help but relish in it. You’re used to this, the chaos of a frat party. The ones thrown by the popular douchebags who roofie innocent girls cause they can’t get them on their own. Your head rested back against the wall. Your body slumped on the couch your sitting on.

Two people passed out on each side of you. A trashy tasteless blunt in between your fingers, you took a pull. Inhaling and letting out a sigh. People greeted you as they walked by, you return nothing but a nonchalant head nod. Not capable of proper human interaction at the moment. You’re in your favorite state; dazed, drunk, high, completely not aware of reality. The best out-of-body experience ever.

Why would you want to remember reality? why would you want to be aware of anything?. You laugh to yourself. No specific thought creeping into your mind, but you laugh anyway. Your eyes feel heavy, like you can pass out any second. But this is so normal for you that you know that’s not the case.

“y/n.” a voice snapped you out of whatever trance you were in. You look up to your left, Chris standing there. A red solo cup in one hand and something else in the other. You shoot a confused smile, so out of it you’re not controlling your face. “chris.” you respond

He gently moved the passed out dude next to you over a little and sits down. His eyes glancing down at the blunt in your hand. He shook his head disapprovingly “take this.” he says, his voice hoarse from his recent pull.

He hands you a freshly rolled blunt, replacing it with your old one. He puts it out. “this the good shit.” he says, his dealer side coming out. You bring it to your mouth. He watched as your lips closed slightly around the blunt. You take the pull, removing it from your lip, barely able to exhale before you’re attacked by coughs. Chris laughs softly. You pass the blunt back to him, your eyes lingering on his face longer than they need to.

“y’not lonely over here?” he asks, his arm draped behind you. “i mean this your spot n all, but you could come to the back with me, you’re always welcome” he offers. You glance at him.

As if debating on whether you will accept. Chris is a friend, has always been. You’re not close or anything like that but for some reason when you need him he is always there. He always has been. You don’t know why, especially when you and his brother Matt broke up. Nothing changed between you, not like you thought it would at least. It’s clear he’s careful at mentioning certain things and making sure not to invite you over to his house when matt is home.

But despite that everything feels like nothing happened. Like nothing is different. The only thing though, you catch him staring at you even when you’re on opposite sides of the room, he’s more worried about you than usual, checks in a lot more, and his need to hang out with you has skyrocketed. So maybe, things have changed.

But chris has always been your friend. Your plug. The guy you go to for any problem you may have. Even when you don’t want to. Even when he pissed you off. You just wish his brother wasn’t his brother.

Then hanging out with chris wouldn’t feel like you’re walking on eggshells waiting for matt to appear out of the blue.

“let’s go” you say, you think you’re speaking normally but your words are elongated and slow .

“alright, c’mon” chris spoke standing up. He holds his hand out for you. You take it, coming up to your feet. You stumble slightly. Letting out a soft snicker.

“jesus” chris mumbles under his breath. He caught you, his hand falling to your waist so briefly.

he leads you both to the back of the frat house. Pushing passed a bunch of people making out and doing lines. Some guy’s even arguing but neither of them throwing a single punch. pussies. you thought.

You finally make it to the back room. Chris’s designated office for parties like these. Where his finest customers come to get their goods. You couldn’t even count on one hand how many girls he brought back here. He claims it’s him being dedicated to his profession.

The room is full with smoke, a purple LED light casting the area. A table is in the middle of the room. A variety of drugs splayed out. People were in here. People who work for and with him, a couple of random girls. “make yourself comfortable.” he says sitting down on the black leathery couch.

One of the girls sitting beside him placing her hand on his shoulder and thigh, biting her lip as she looks at him. He shakes his head subtly. She removes her hands immediately and distances herself. You notice, wondering why he’s rejecting her now when she’s clearly been waiting for him. But that’s none of your business. you sit down. Chris passes you the blunt from earlier. You take another pull.

You repeat these actions for the next couple minutes. No conversation or anything. Nothing but the blasting rap music is heard.

“so, how you been?” chris speaks up, returning the blunt to his lips. “good..chillin” you say. You hope that since he knows you’re so high and fucked up that he won’t pry and ask too much questions.

“How’s your mom?” he asks. Your body stills at the mention. of course he’s gonna pry. it’s chris.

“she’s fine.. doing better honestly. We both are.” you say, your eyes follow the blunt in between your fingers to your lips. You pray he shuts up.

“y’sure?”

“so sure” your voice hoarse and breathy.

you look at him. Your eyes doing the pleading for you. “that’s good.” he says, you assume he noticed. “y’know I gotchu tho, right?” his voice sincere despite how hard it is to take anything that comes out of his mouth seriously with how noticeably high he sounds.

You give him a quick nod. Wanting to move on from this heavy topic. The people in the room with you obviously wanting to know why he cares so much and what could possibly be wrong.

“yea, i know…thanks..” you respond. a little hesitantly.

you can’t help but feel a little bad at how cold you’re seeming. He knows what’s home and he cares, he’s worried. You should appreciate that. But you can’t help but want him to shut up and move on.

It goes quiet between you two. You revert your gaze, looking down at the ground before you. your eyes fixating on the empty solo cup trash and beer bottles and food wrappers and empty ziplock bags.

Chris bites the inside of his mouth, knowing how heavy and awkward things are getting. It’s way too serious right now, it shouldn’t be. He’s too high for that. “Yo, tomorrow we shoul-” he speaks, his sentence cut off by the opening of the door.

You both look up. Seeing him standing there. His own cup of beer in hand. The look on his face as if he didn’t expect to see you in here himself.

You should look away. This is weird. You need to look away. But you can’t, you won’t.

Matt can’t seem to look away either.

۶ৎ Authors Note

kinda love this idk

really short i’m sorry fr

xoxo paris

[healdeals]

Sometimes I think about how much Mettaton (specifically in Undertale) and Spamton are foils to each other and it drives me perhaps a bit insane.

Like... Mettaton had the drive to go see the light of day on the surface, to be with humans and be a savior to monsterkind, and was willing to kill a kid to get there. He wanted to be more than a simple snail farmer and had Alphys there to help him build a new body. He, whether intended or not, abandoned family & friends to live out his dream.

Spamton is also more than willing to kill to get to see the light, he wants to be more than a darkner in a dark world, and abandons his friends to be [big] without them, relying only on the help of some strange benefactor until he also is abandoned.

They both can be self absorbed, their visages plastered around all the stuff they own (or owned). They can be inconsiderate of others. They have dreams of being big stars. There is no subtext with MTT figuring out his identity and his transitioning; its all plain to see. While it's more subtle for Spam, there are themes of self identity with him, too.

I think the biggest difference in their personalities is that Mettaton can be a lot more humble. Despite Burgerpants' treatment and taking Alphys for granted, a lot of the monsters in the MTT hotel do speak fondly of him, especially if he dies and you go back through the hotel afterward. He doesn't resist talking to Napstablook when they call in, even though he probably feels guilty for leaving them behind for whatever reason he did. He clearly still loves his cousin, and does appreciate his friendship with Alphys.

Meanwhile Spamton lies to himself about being better off without the Addisons. Deep down he doesn't mean it, but coming to terms with the reality of his feelings? Naw. He's probably had to use this tough guy persona to shield himself from criticism in his big shot days and now doesn't know how to take the mask off without it hurting. There's a lot of denial in his small body, not helped by the years of scraping by in back alleys after his fall.

Though, if the roles were reversed, would things have played out differently? Mettaton has the benefit of well-meaning people around him and luck. Its through shuffling around the trash zone that he met someone who could make his dream body come true, and who ALSO had ties to the king of the Underground. Spamton has... fairweather friends? We don't know for sure how close he was to the Addisons, or how much he thinks of his relationship with Swatch in his grander days, or how benevolent the person on the phone really was.

Yes, there was desperation to get to the surface for MTT, but he didn't have to deal with the mind-breaking information of how radically different and free the light world is when you live a deterministic existence. He didn't have to deal with seeing a soul as a blinding beacon within a kid's body. I doubt Metta wouldn't be overly obsessed with the light world, nor doubt Spamton wouldn't be content with his place in life, if they swapped shoes.

It's also so WILD that they don't know each other in the DR universe, but Mettaton had a profound impact on Spamton just by making his a little art file. He unknowingly is the one who gives this spam email a glimpse into world above, and possibly a piece of his own hopes and dreams as well. I wonder if later the DR Mettaton, too, will be affected in some way by Spamton.

[elerondo]

FIRST AGE ! Elrond’s powers being a very real situation of “You have godhood in your veins. You wish for something and it manifests.”

Water Manipulation

When little Elrond stared at the sea long enough, the waves were always bigger and more devastating. He has seen his mother Elwing pouring out her grievances at the seas to bring their father back, so he does too, with more anger in his little heart. The adults on the shores of Sirion often have a hard time bracing the waves and pulling Elrond back from the crushing waves, afraid that he would get hurt or worse: be washed away. In reality, Elrond was very comfortable in roiling waves. He thought that only the waves and seas could relate to the turmoil in his being, for they reflected the crushing state of the world on his shoulders.

Glamour

Elrond absolutely hastened the river in the cave where he and Elros hid themselves, causing the waterfall to be bigger and more fearsome, so that the Noldor murderers would not come to look for them here. It does result in him passing out sooner in the night than Elros, and consuming a lot more food.

This power came into use more when Elrond frequently took Elros’ hand to run away from Maedhros and Maglor, taking their food, their weapons, or other items of interest. Elrond would try to mask their footsteps as they ran, or close the entrance to a small cave. Of course, they cannot hide long from such seasoned warriors.

When Elrond grew older, his power hid the family of four from predators and onlookers more often than not. It really boosted the success of their hunts and battles.

Song & Healing

Elwings tears have been in little Elrond’s field of vision for the longest time. He has always reached up to wipe his mother’s tears away, in vain. They seemed to overflow, dripping onto his little cheeks, and seeping into his heart of hearts. When Elros and Elrond sleep on their mother’s chest, Elrond puts a little palm over her clothes right atop her heart, feeling the erratic heartbeat and desiring to slow it down he had sung in his heart what he heard from other healers, and poured the initial vestiges of his healing powers into Elwing. She would say that the last moments with her sons were the most peaceful she’d ever been, and the most beautiful she’d ever felt. She is no longer afraid of the night and the fears that come with it, her sons were really her saving grace. They always slept so soundly, especially Elrond. Unbeknownst to himself and everyone, little Elrond was often fatigued from the nightly use of his fea.

When love grew between the Feanorian brothers and the sons of Elwing, Elrond had been conscious enough of his power ( which he called “a trick” ) and healed small cuts and bruises that his family might sustain while living out in the wilds for long years.   ❝  Look! I point, and it closes! ❞   Elrond smiled up to the shadowy figure of Maedhros.

[gabessquishytum]

It’s been like. Five whole minutes since I’ve turned fun sex things into hurt/comfort. So. :)

human au, when Dream and Hob get together Hob thinks Dream has a run-of-the-mill oral fixation. He always seems to want to suck Hob’s cock, warm his cock In his mouth for ages, when they have sex he insists he wears some kind of gag.

The truth is though… it’s not that Dream doesn’t like those things, but that’s not why he does it. He’s just very insecure about any noise that could come out of his mouth.

People always tell him how awkward he is and that he can barely hold a normal conversation (he has no idea how he landed people-person, charismatic Hob) so he’s certain he’d fail at dirty talk. And his laugh is so ugly, surely any moans or noises he makes during sex would be equally awful. And of course, his worst nightmare is getting caught up in the moment and letting an “I love you” slip FAR too early in the relationship than is acceptable. There is simply no way anything good could come from his mouth (ever, but especially during sex) so he deals with it by keeping his mouth occupied.

I can’t decide how Hob figures it out- if he puts all the pieces together during sex or foreplay, or if it somehow comes out during a more domestic moment. Either way, he insists on ravishing Dream with his mouth free and uncovered so he can hear every lovely sound he makes (and prove that he loves his silly boyfriend no matter what).

-🦇

We love the hurt/comfort smut here!!!! Hell yeah!!!!

I have a certain idea about how Hob finds out about Dream’s whole complicated relationship with his own vocality. It all comes out when Dream, quite suddenly loses his voice altogether. He gets a little bout of laryngitis during flu season, and while he's not super sick, he also can't speak. He's reduced to texting and writing little notes while Hob fusses over him and makes him plenty of nice cups of tea.

During his illness, Dream is visited by his sibling Desire. Hob has never met them before, but honestly he's more focused on Dream than anything else. He has a vague notion that the two siblings don't exactly get on, however, and this becomes apparent when Desire makes a series of quips about what a relief it is to have Dream silenced. If only he would be quiet all the time! He's so much more bearable when he's not making any noise.

Hob clocks Dream’s face during this series of bad jokes and all he sees is... resignation. He realises that Dream believes Desire's cruel words. Everything starts to make sense.

After the laryngitis passes and bedroom activities are back on the menu, Hob cautiously broaches the fact that he really doesn't want Dream to be gagged this time. He doesn't want him to muffle his face in the pillow, either. He'd quite like to have some very boring and tender missionary sex, and he'd like to hear Dream’s voice and his noises the whole time.

Unfortunately for Dream he's in love, and he can't deny Hob anything, let alone something so sweet and pure. He's sure that Hob will be disgusted by his noises, but he agrees anyway. Maybe Hob will forgive him for being so loud, if he behaves himself well in other ways...

In reality Hob is the one making the most noise because he absolutely sobs his way through the sex. Hearing his sweet Dream's pleasure for the first time is so overwhelming and almost spiritual, he can't help but cry. There's a long way to go, but Hob is determined: he's going to make sure that Dream is never silenced again. Hob wants to hear everything that comes from his beloved's mouth - especially if its an "I love you!"

[stardusttealeaves]

ARCANE DRINK HCs

So I was bored at an ungodly hour of the night so instead of sleeping....I did this.

This was written before season 2 came out. Thought this would just be a fun little ting.

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

Jinx - water of the day/ jungle juice

If u don't know water of the day just go look at it rq : here

Yea she does that. It's either that or she makes a cooler amount of jungle juice from random stuff she grabs from the bar and makes that last for a good while.

I don't even think she likes the taste of alcohol that much. Hell I think she airs on the lightweight side. But if she's drinking she's gonna want it to be sweet and taste like juice.

Vander - Whiskey

Cmon, the big guy of the undercity gotta have something that tows the line of sophistication and earthiness. He likes the subtle complexity that it offers. Something to take the edge off after a night of running the bar.

He's not the type to get "carried away" with it but...if he isn't careful he could def chug down a thing of Sir Davis like it didn't cost 90 bucks.

Other than that he's probably gonna keep it cute with a pint of beer on the reg.

Vi - whatever gets her drunk quicker

Cmon....We've seen the season 2 shorts. We know how bad it gets.

Imma be real I wouldn't be surprised if she just got to the point of chugging straight everclear like she does NOT care.

But sure let's give her a normal non angst circumstance. I think she'd develop a taste for whiskey. Ya know as a treat.

I'd like to think Vander gave her her first drink when she was still young, not like a full pour, just a bit for the taste. She hated it at first but over time it grew on her. Now whenever she has it, she's reminded of him.

Cait - Martinis

Cait doesn't drink very often, she's more likely to drink at events her family hosts.

I think she likes to keep it classy with a martini cause it's nice to sip, plus it's a bit stronger so it makes her pace herself. But she's not an olive girly, she's a citrus twist girly. Depending on her mood it's either gonna be orange or lemon.

Mel - That's that me espresso (martini)

Yes I was legally obligated to make that joke.

This would be a fav for her to have when she has an evening to herself. It's creamy, rich, a Lil sweet. It's a nice combination. She'd also have this when she's with Jayce or anyone she considers a close friend. Otherwise she is not bringing this to a function.

Nope at the function she is a pinot grigio haver. It's light, fruity, and keeps her pushing.

Jayce - Beeyah

This dude will have a DAY of being a politician amd immediately hit the fridge for a Modelo and a lime wedge like it's a cold cigarette to ease the pain.

He's like Mr. Boss in that one episode of smiling friends asking the waitress what kinda Lagers they got. But at the same time being very anal about the fact that beers and lagers are not the same thing.

("All lagers are beers, but not all beers are lagers" - Jayce probably)

Bro is one of those guys that care about ipas.

Viktor - Vodkah + mules

No this isn't because he's eastern european.

Ok maybe partially but that's not the point.

First off I don't think his body takes hard  liquor straight up that well, so occasionally he'd have a straight shot of vodka just to feel something. It hurts but not in the usual way ya know.

But in reality if he wants something to enjoy once in a while it's gonna be a classic Moscow Mule, it's not that strong and is nice to sip.

Silco - Scotch

This feels self explanatory like look at him.

Sevika - Whiskey

Similar to Vander she's into Whiskey but she's not in it for the savoring of it. Like in her case she will actively down that sir David and grab another one off the shelf once the first bottles done.

Ekko - dry as a desert

Given the environment that the firefights have curated I don't think he's the type to drink. I wouldn't be surprised if that whole area is dry and honestly good for them.

[avelera]

Meta: Balancing the Ledger in Arcane S2

Whatever people might have thought of Vi and Jayce's actions in S1, Arcane Season 2 was definitely listening. The whole point of their arcs in 2.1-2.3 seems specifically aimed at them getting point by point retribution for everything they did wrong, intentionally or unintentionally, sympathetically or unsympathetically, in S1.

Vi:

Is hurt and abandoned by Cait in almost exactly the same manner that she hurt and abandoned Powder in S1. If you thought Vi got off too lightly for her treatment of Powder in S1, she has now experienced the full brunt of what it would be like to be on the other side of that fight.

Is attacked, terrorized, and made to feel helpless by the very undercity people who she led an attack against in S1 in which she overpowered, terrorized, and ultimately led to the death of a child as collateral damage. The escalating cycle of violence that she took part in came back to bite her, hard.

As for Jayce:

He was warned repeatedly that Hextech was dangerous. He is now seeing and experiencing first hand the risks of unchecked magical/technological progress, not only seeing how it damages the world he was trying to save, but personally experiencing the horrifying, reality distorting effects of the wild runes as of 2.3.

He left Viktor in order to pursue the higher calling of politics, ostensibly to support their research too, but it took him from his partner's side. He was also motivated by a woman, Mel, and his care for her in doing so. Regardless of intention, politics and Mel took him from Viktor's side at a critical moment when Viktor's life hung in the balance.

Now, Viktor has left Jayce, pursuing the shadow of a dead woman who inspires him now, pursuing a higher calling of bettering the lives of others in the Undercity, and while he doesn't have the same real world powers manipulating him as Jayce did, there are parallels between the Hexcore and the Council's ability to drag Viktor and Jayce respectively forward into dangerous territory, following the siren song of their ambitions to change the world for the better, away from the partnership that launched their innovations in the first place.

Jayce also took part in the rogue mission against the Undercity factory, and in the process, killed a child thus escalating the cycle of violence between Piltover and Zaun.

If you blamed Jayce for becoming a councilor, getting into a relationship with Mel while Viktor was dying, for abandoning Viktor and the lab for other pursuits, for killing that child in Zaun, or in general for escalating the cycle of violence between Zaun and Piltover, then S2 seems to have set out very deliberately to address each one of these.

Jayce is abandoned by Viktor in a similar way and for similar (if not the same) causes as Viktor now abandoned Jayce. Meanwhile, the mother of the child he specifically killed shows up to take her pound of flesh, escalating cycle of violence that has him and his loved ones caught up in it, having now arrived at his doorstep when once it was far away in Zaun, and Hextech has become everything that Heimerdinger (who he deposed in a coup d'etat in order to override his warnings and his power to stop Jayce) warned that it could be.

I stand in awe of how deliberately set up it all is, and offer this analysis of why the narrative took the time to so specifically address and bring retribution for Vi and Jayce for these specific sins, in an almost exactly eye for an eye manner.

Before Jayce and Vi can continue forward as our protagonists, we needed to wipe the slate clean.

These beats are so specifically addressed at their sins (real, imagined, or overblown) in S1 that it's impossible to say going forward that they haven't suffered the consequences of their actions. They have now both been intimately on the receiving end of the consequences of what they did to others.

Furthermore, in S2 we are seeing that Vi and Jayce were less outliers as far as people making mistakes but rather were simply ahead of the curve. Now they have seen both sides of the cycle of violence and deeply suffered the consequences of their actions, many of which were impulsive. Going forward, I think it's safe to say we're going to see Jayce and Vi become voices of reason as they continue to learn, grow and experience the consequences of the events that their S1 actions had a big hand in causing in the first place.

I think this is also why Jayce, humbled and wiser, is becoming a much more popular character in S2 while Vi is becoming a much more universally sympathetic one, though I loved them both in the first season as did many other people. But their actions were controversial in some cases and it's been fascinating to see how systematically S2 has addressed each one of their controversial actions from S1 before moving them forward as heroes and protagonists.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

KinkVember 11 - Knife Play

Slasher Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bambi x Transferrable Skills Simon

Read on AO3

CW: Knife play, blood mention, CMNF, explicit consent, check ins, abrupt ending

Notes: This is from a project that I'm percolating on with @sentientcave. All you need to know about that, right now, is that for Good and Plot Relevant Reasons, the various versions of the 141 I've written, and some of their darlings, have met and are in an interesting Liminal Space, where they are passing the time.

This is not cannon to either Slasher Handler or Transferrable Skills at this time.

PS: Haha, yeah, it's late. I feel a little bad about it, but I am also being nice to myself about it. Happy KinkVember!

Ghost is not as big as your Simon, but his presence is… overwhelming. He sits on the couch, bare faced, the way he never is around the other versions of himself. His blue eyes burn into yours, before he flicks them down to take in what you've worn for this experience. Simon's shirt hugs your curves and sits lightly on your hips, the only thing you're wearing other than a pair of lacy panties. You clench your toes when he looks at your bare feet, inexplicably shy.

He unsheathes the knife.

When you take a reflexive step back, Simon is there to catch you. One of his large hands rubs your shoulder, the other caresses your throat. "You're safe, Bambi. You trust me?"

"I trust you," you answer. "You won't let me get hurt, you won't get mad, you won't punish me."

"'m gonna hurt you," Ghost says. He cocks his head. "You know no one stays dead here?"

"You do anything she doesn't want," Simon rumbles above your head, "and I'm going to make you wish you could die."

Ghost sits back, cocking his head. "Never said anything about doing anything she don't want. Just said the truth of what she's asked me for. To hurt 'er. And that I can't kill 'er."

You feel a lot less brave, now that you're looking at the unsheathed knife in his hand. "What if I change my mind?"

"Then we check in," Simon answers, fingers pinching your earlobe. He nudges you forward when Ghost holds his empty hand out. "You chose him. I trust you."

"You just said you'd make him wish he was dead."

"'e said the same thing to Roman," Ghost chuckles. He catches your wrist with surprisingly gentle fingers. He moves so fast, you don't have time to flinch. The knife is just there, against your hip, lifting the hem of Simon's shirt to expose pink lace.

"Aren't you pretty?"

"It's all I could find," you whisper as the sharp edge of the blade plinks through rayon and elastic.

"Price is a demon, an' he likes pretty girls," Ghost rumbles. "'s true in every reality."

The panties barely make a sound as he slices through one side, then the other. You don't even have to step out of them, they just flutter to the ground. He uses the sharp tip to poke through the hem of the shirt, but simply lifts it. At your puzzled face, he raises an eyebrow until you get with the program and pull it off all the way.

Ghost gestures with a finger for you to turn around. You gulp as you do, looking up into Simon's concentrating face. Ghost's hand on your hip pulls you back, until you're plopped unceremoniously in his lap, Simon following to tower over you both.

"You know it could scar?" Ghost asks, perfunctory.

"I know," you whisper.

"You say stop, it stops. Acknowledge," Simon prompts, taking one of your hands in his. Ghost pushes your shoulder forward until your chest is pressed against Simon’s front, your other hand braced against his hip.

You gulp. "Acknowledged."

The first bite of the knife against your left shoulder blade is a shock. You can tell it's a small cut, but it stings, and you're not sure why you're surprised. You don't really have time to brace before the knife is back.

Ghost moves so fast, so methodically. You imagine it's like getting a tattoo as he works his way across your shoulders. Eventually the sting seeps into you and turns into a warmth that flows down your spine until Simon is holding you up.

The pain makes things a little fuzzy and warm around the edges. The little knicks lose their edge, and you nuzzle into Simon’s belly with a hum.

Beneath you, Ghost is hard, but you kind of expected that. His hand doesn't waver, though. He just pauses when you squirm against him and resumes his work when you settle again.

You are surprised when you feel Simon getting hard against your breasts. Ghost pauses as you tip your head up to look into Simon’s dark eyes, then resumes his methodical work.

“Sits like a dream,” Ghost says behind you.

“She’s perfect,” Simon says, stroking gentle fingers over your cheek. When you catch his thumb between your lips, he groans. “Color, Bambi.”

You’re still lucid enough that the words come easy. “Green. Please.”

“Good girl,” Simon rumbles, and his other hand dips down to touch the top of your back. You can’t help but shiver as he brings the red tips of his fingers up to his lips.

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Skz Energies

Chan: I can’t quite describe it. His energy probably resonates the most with me in terms of familiarity and similarity which also makes it harder to describe for me. But his energy kind of gives me the vibes of sleepovers in the winter but not in a cold way, in a warm and cozy way. Like no matter how cold it is outside, inside it’s warm and calming. With coffee, tea, or hot chocolate, curled up under the covers watching your favorite movie but not even paying attention to it because you’re so busy talking and gossiping, while there’s chaos around you but it’s more easing than overwhelming. Almost like a found family environment that he just naturally kind of…Emits. I feel like he withholds things more because he’s afraid of…Offending people? But he also likes to talk and talk and overshare. Sometimes gets off topic.

Minho: Very calm and relaxed. Like a river or ocean at night. Gentle waves, moving slowly with the flickers of light on the surface. Calming. Like the scent of the air right after it rains. But there’s also something expensive about it. Calming and easing yet also closed off. You know you shouldn’t go close or get in, no matter how much you desperately want to. Vague in the sense of only shares what’s necessary, but also speaks his mind with 0 fucks given.

Changbin: What’s the energy equivalent of mouth diarrhea? Dunno. His energy is very lively and almost childish to me? Not in a bad way, but in a sense that it’s very easily excitable and bright. Not necessarily pure, but trusting despite the damage. Like a dog. His energy reminds me of sunny green fields with flowers and bees and butterflies. I fucking hate bees but that’s beside the point. Also with a stream running through it. It reminds me of green, yellow, and the scent of nature without the animal shit.

Hyunjin: Highly depressed. Sometimes passionate and likely, sometimes down in the dumps and gloomy. It flip flops. Leader of the oversharer squad. He reminds me of the scent of rain. The sounds of rain, too. Like sitting by the window while it’s raining and the sun is setting. Curled up with a warm drink and art supplies, headphones in listening to music. That sort of vibe. It’s almost like his energy latches onto these readings to finally be able to get out how he feels and what he’s holding inside. Sometimes it also gives the vibes of when you’re so depressed, drained, and burnt out you can’t even move, or hold anything. Like you’re numb, and drifting. There’s something expensively antique about it.

Han: He reminds me of a cold bath in the best way. He over shares sometimes but also doesn’t do too much? His energy is scattered but also present. Kind of like warm, salty fries and vanilla ice cream. That’s what he reminds me of. Just sitting around anywhere, eating fries and ice cream while the world around you is still moving. Time doesn’t seem slow. It’s just right. Not fast, not slow, but just…Moving. There’s a sense of normalcy, but not in a boring way. More in a sense of contention with the world just being as is.

Felix: His energy is very warm and welcoming. Almost like when you’re a child and you’re just laying in bed with your parents, under the covers snuggled up with them and their warmth. They’re so large and you’re so small but you feel so warm and calm. Like nothing could ever happen. It’s bright and naive and innocent but not manchild-like and more…Painfully optimistic. Again like a dog. No matter how much they’re hurt, they still trust and love unconditionally, whether it’s returned or not. He shares a lot but doesn’t quite overshare? He knows what you can handle. But he also keeps things to himself. Like he doesn’t want to ruin others’ perceptions of him. He reminds me of the smell of cinnabar.

Seungmin: His energy reminds me of laying around in bed talking shit with your best friend, drinking wine and watching trashy reality TV. He shares what he wants and doesn’t share anything he doesn’t want to. Not even in a manipulative way, but in a “Why do you need to know that?” Kinda way. And I live for it. He’s blunt and doesn’t care to spare feelings. He doesn’t give a shit. There’s always a dry humor to his responses. But you can also tell he cares very deeply for people and things.

Jeongin: He reminds me of a bright sunny day in the park just walking aimlessly, talking about any and everything while you just do whatever. He’s definitely the one with the most mellow energy. Just calm and…I don’t want to say normal but normal. Not too broken or depressed but not unrealistically happy or optimistic either. Just average. Not even in a bad way. It’s very refreshing. He also readily gives information he’s comfortable giving and doesn’t give what he doesn’t wish to. He reminds me of the smell of lavender.