#and like sometimes those games that they’re saying are so much better have like exactly the same pitfalls

[spicyicymeloncat]

Bit of an opinionated rant but:

Idk why everyone is so upset over the Zelda timeline and the Zelda continuity or whatever. I like the huge spaghetti mess that is Zelda lore. I like that the developers don’t give a fuck about consistency. I’m glad it gives them the freedom to make whatever the fuck in their games.

Is it perfect? No. Could it be better? Of course!

But isn’t half the fun of being a Zelda theorist, playing with the puzzle pieces yourself? For me personally, it doesn’t matter if Nintendo never had this grand master plan of the Zelda lore. It means everyone can come to their own conclusions on the origin of the heroes or the magic or the different groups of people. And that’s kinda by design.

#idk #i have seen one too many Zelda takes that I personally disagree with #sometimes people have valid criticism and sometimes their problem is that they lack imagination #there’s so much ‘well it’s not as good as [insert their fav zelda game]’ or ‘they should’ve done it just like [xxx Zelda]’ #and like sometimes those games that they’re saying are so much better have like exactly the same pitfalls #or the person complaining just lacks the imagination to think about what couldn’t happened in the timeline #it’s literally up to player interpretation if you hate a game you can just idk decanonise it if you want #hhh #idk idk #gonna unfollow some people bc I swear half the Zelda content I see is ppl shitting on totk #and yeah it’s not a perfect game and it’s not my favourite and I’ve got complaints too #but it really feels like ppl are complaining because it wasn’t exactly how they envisioned it #like besties if you wanted it to be like any other Zelda then play those other zeldas instead #like totk is not even making my top 5 probably just bc I enjoyed other zeldas more #but imo people are being annoying about it #i mean that with love I’m not trying to pick a fight I’m just idk venting into the internet about dumb video games #Mayhaps I’ll delete later #loz #whatever I’ll just go back to playing the funny hatsune Miku game #i just watched a lesbian wedding in that game #it’s sunny somewhere

[iwaasfairy]

( question about atsukooo.~ ) when did our little one develop such a lust for his mommy? when did it start? how did it start? did he reject it at first? ⛩️ sorry for the constant asks btw, my schedule freed up big time

YESS of course bby I love talking about hIMMM and I love your asks shush come here I kiss you

tw incest, sexual exploration

Honestly, I think Atsuko always had a preoccupied attachment style. He grew up with you protecting him from the world and cherishing him and doting on him, but you also weren’t exactly ready to be a mom yet? You try your best, but sometimes when Tooru bothers you and pokes and prods you just can’t stand to be around anyone, and those dips in affection make Atsuko very clingy.

Ko isn’t stupid, even as a kid he catches glimpses of how Tooru grabs your chin and pulls you close and how he stares at you sooo hungrily sometimes. But it’s normal, right? Uncle Tooru’s always been in his life and you don’t stop him, so it must be. And Ko’s best friend also doesn’t have a relationship with his mom, and it’s pretty obvious Taishi’d do just about anything to get your approval and somehow that makes pride stir in Atsuko’s chest.

You’re just so great and pretty and warm, everyone is attracted to you. You must be the most lovely mom in the world. Maybe even the most lovely and wanted person ever. So he feels good when he’s close to you, when he has your full attention, and when you praise him it makes him feel over the moon (｡+･`ω･´) he just can’t help but be a little bit of a show off around you? because you always reacted so sweetly whenever he did

And so he’s definitely aware of how much he wants to be your… something, sure he likes Tooru and Iwa, but not like he likes you. By the time he’s in high school he understands that there’s no man in your life -he’s the man in your life, uncle Tooru doesn’t count right?- and that gives him a responsibility to protect you back and stay close to you and cherish you, right? It is perfectly normal that he wants to be the main person in his mom’s life, he loves you. He has no choice but to love you.

He gets a streak of giddy pride when you cheer in the stands for him at his games, and though he wants to do good for himself, it’s the sweaty hug he can give you afterwards that makes it fun. You’re soft and you smell good and you like him too much for his poor young man brain to handle. If anyone asked, he’d proudly say that ‘his mom raised him’, and did a damn good job.

But it isn’t exactly like he thinks anything is weird!! He just likes your smell and your waist and watching your legs, and he likes catching glimpses of your tits and when he kisses you sometimes he wants to slip his tongue in your pretty mouth. That’s normal. He’s perfectly normal about you. But when his friends talk about girls their first thought isn’t to their moms. That when they close their eyes and beat one out, it isn’t thinking about your face and your lips and your tits that are pressed to him in every hug, and how good you’d feel skin to skin. How you’d sound whimpering his name.

They don’t talk about having thought of your face when he first slid his cock inside his girlfriend at the time and turning her around so he can imagine you. When they say something about thongs and pocketing underwear, he laugh, because how can he explain your lingerie that’s littered in his room because it feels better to fuck his hand when he can smell you. Is there something wrong with him? Why— it isn’t like he isn’t interested in other girls. He is, he likes the attention, and they’re hot.

But you’re on his mind day in and day out. He wants to rub his waist against you when you get close to him and —god, what the hell is wrong with him. Why does he want to have your body in his lap and squirming on his fingers more than he wants anyone else? You’re just so warm and sweet and kind of- innocent, in a way that is way too easy to exploit. You just let him walk all over you sometimes, and he’s gotten so much bigger than you, and somehow that turns him on too.

But he’d never act on it. You’re a single mom and you love him and he should never ever let anyone know how hard his cock gets when he’s paying a bit too close attention to you. He’ll just continue to walk into your shower time and snuggle up when you’re sleeping and that’ll be enough. He can live with that, right? Maybe he should get a new girlfriend to take the edge off things. He’s fine to just pretend- as long as you’re his and he’s yours.

…..so you can imagine the feeling he gets when he walks into the house early and hears your moans ring down the hall and sound so fucking hot, and you’re whimpering and begging and through the crack of the door he sees Uncle Tooru blow your back out and call you ‘his, only his, his girl, pretty baby’ and— really, that guy? You’re fucking your stepdad and begging him for more, and Tooru grunts about putting another baby in you.

Motherfucker.

#tw.incest #🍯honey.pot #honey mail #⛩️ nonnie #I gFGKFJDHDJF went a bit long with this but I loVbeee talking about Ko #haikyuu smut #💫oc.atsuko

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 5)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Warning: this chapter contains mentions of the horrors Snow inflicts on ‘desirable’ victors, nothing graphic but could still be upsetting to some readers. Proceed with caution.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Damn it,” Haymitch curses, taking a long swig from his glass.

Katniss is inches away from literally becoming the girl on fire. Sprinting through the raging flames as foliage and trees block her way.

“Why are they doing that?” Y/N tugs anxiously at the sleeve of his jacket.

“She’s too close to the edge.” They need to turn her around, but the fire balls are for show.

“Not now.” The gamemakers have chased her well back into the tree line. “Why aren’t they stopping?”

“I don’t know.” Haymitch huffs, “I have as much control over this as you do.”

“We need a sponsor.”

“To send her what exactly? A fire extinguisher?”

Remember who the real enemy is.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N shakes her head, “it’s fine.” Haymitch is direct and abrasive, he does not sugarcoat. There are times when she wants that, needs it even.

“I was dismissive.” For all she was his protégé, she is now his equal. Old habits die hard, the places where they are joined bleed into one another.

“No, you were right.”

Things in the arena have calmed down, Katniss nursing a burn to her thigh. Stumbling back to the river, finding a moment’s relief before the careers and Peeta spot her.

“I’ll keep an eye on things here if you wanna go work the crowd,” if they’re gonna kill Katniss, Haymitch doesn’t want her to watch.

“I’ll wait till it’s done.”

You stubborn thing, let me spare you; just once.

Despite her injury, Katniss scales her way to the top of a tree which the careers can’t seem to shake her from.

“Let’s just wait her out,” Peeta suggests, “she has to come down sometime. It’s that or starve to death. We’ll kill her then.”

Cato contemplates for a moment, “ok.” He shrugs, “somebody make a fire.”

“Now go,” Haymitch insists, “she needs something for that burn. I’ll man the fort. Go, be great.” He pecks her cheek in parting.

Y/N stands, dragging sweaty palms down the front of her dress. Passing the betting pool on her right. They smile and wave. The victor forces her best grin, spotting one of the more generous patrons and locking eyes.

The man shakes his head at the whistling of those beside him. He’s been chosen.

“How’ve you been?” Y/N plucks two champagne flutes off the serving tray as it passes. Their contents a dark blue.

He smirks, accepting the offering. “I know your game, little minx. Tell me what you want.”

“Something for my tribute’s burn.”

“You’d think the girl on fire would be used to it.”

Y/N huffs a laugh.

“How much is this going to cost me?” That’s the real question, isn’t it?

“Two thousand.” Play money for someone like him.

“Greedy, greedy.” He tuts, fishing for his wallet.

“You’ll make double that if you bet on her.”

The Capitol man cocks his head of green curls. Y/N is beautiful, not in the way his wife is. Understated, but never overlooked and though she dresses the part, she will never fit in. Standing out like a neon sign among the masses. A humming live wire. “You seem confident.”

“She’s demonstrated better survival skills than half the tributes from one and two. Besides, you’ve always been generous.”

“Because I like you. Dare I say, we’re friends.”

“We are friends.” You’ve been good to me, kind even.

“Most people here are looking for a bit more than friendship from someone like you. A few of my colleagues would so love to meet you.” It’s not meant to be an insult, but it stings all the same. “Do be careful, little minx. Take my money and run.”

————————————————————————

When Katniss receives the parachute with a note that reads ‘apply generously and stay alive. -Y/N & Haymitch,’ she wonders how far away the arena is from the tribute center. Is it just beyond reach, separated by a dome of tech?

What would her mentors say now, without all of Panem to see? If only she could talk to them, just one more time. To be comforted by Y/N, scolded by Haymitch even. Scooping a bit of goop from the container onto her wound, it soothes the ache. “Thank you.”

————————————————————————

Nights are the hardest, in and out of the arena. If a tribute needs something after hours, they’d have to wait until the viewing room opens the next day. Y/N insists the games stay on, the feed streaming to district twelve, broadcast over the exterior wall of their room in the tribute center.

“You gonna fill me in on what the hell’s going on?” Haymitch asks, keeping his distance for now.

“The kids are sleeping, no cannon for a while now.”

“I didn’t mean the games.”

She knows that. “Haymitch.” His name is choked, so different from the way he’s used to hearing it.

His tumbler clunks down on the bedside table. “Come here,” he clambers onto the bed, still fully clothed from the day. “Come here.”

She worms her way into his open arms and sobs. Wracking both of them with the force of it.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes, trying to absorb some of her pain.

She cries herself to sleep, even as Haymitch hushes her. Breath hitching in her throat, the terrible way that turns his stomach. When she stills, the front of his shirt caught in her fist, Haymitch dozes off. Waking to the sound of her screams, pushing at him, desperate to free herself.

“It’s me,” he pulls back enough for her to see with her own eyes. “It’s just me.”

Y/N cups his face in her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I love you.

She tells him of her conversation with Cashmere and the sponsor. How afraid she is that pay per views aren’t going to keep these people entertained forever. Eventually they will get tired of watching them, they’ll want to be with them; and neither she nor Haymitch will be able to say no. “If Katniss lives, they’d do it to her too.” Just like Finnick and Gloss and Cashmere, all the others before them. “They’ll do it to her too.”

Haymitch gentles her with pretty lies. ‘He’ll sort this out.’ They will have to pry you from my cold, dead, hands.

————————————————————————

Little Rue, from district eleven, is also quite the climber. Making her way to the tree closest Katniss and drawing her attention to a tracker jacker nest a few feet up. If she’s able to drop it down on the careers, she might take out one or two. At the very least, cause enough of a distraction to get away.

Y/N watches on bated breath as Katniss begins sawing through the branch with her knife. People of the viewing room hiss each time Katniss is stung. Letting out a collective cheer when the hive falls, sending the careers and Peeta scattering. All but Glimmer, who catches the brunt of their stings.

Haymitch shifts. I’ll be damned, you might actually make it out alive, sweetheart.

Peeta circles around, after the cannon sounds, leaving Katniss with the bow and arrow. “Katniss, go! Run! Get out of here. What are you doing?”

She blinks at him slowly, effects of the tracker jacker venom dulling her senses. Putting enough distance between herself and the tree with the body underneath before falling into the brush. Plagued by images of days gone by.

Part 6

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902

#haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy x reader #the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #moves & countermoves

[twstwinnie]

♚ With You ~ Lilia Vanrouge

summary: in a relationship with Lilia! usual three categories: pining, confession, and dating! while this should be a given, I’ll say it explicitly here: the reader is an adult in this given Lilia’s age <3 whether they’re a third year like Leona, or the prefect, is up to you as the reader!

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, gn! reader

a/n: OK SO. this was a request from the comments (I do read those!) also, i was inspired to write for Lilia because I have a friend who really loves him, and i too love the bat boy! so, consider this a sort of love letter to Lilia as a character! For requests, Sebek is likely next, though feel free to lmk what y’all wanna see in asks/comments! enjoy!! special thanks to my beloved Lilia lovers for giving me inspo xx — winnie ♥︎

♚ starry - eyed !

» Unlike many other students at NRC, Lilia is one of few who’s fully aware of how he feels about you. He’s been alive long enough to recognize the signs— a quickened heartbeat, his eyes lingering on you for a few moments too long, even the way he seeks out your company in his free time.

» While, yes, he’s aware of his feelings, he’s stopped dead in his tracks by fear. It’s such a silly thing to him, really, but he can’t help it. He finds himself afraid that his lifespan might scare you off. Sure, he’s probably not got very long left, but in comparison to your human lifespan— it’s still quite a bit longer. Would you be alright with that? Or would his practical immortality be a dealbreaker?

» He knows that you accept him despite your difference in species, but would that translate if he was romantically interested? He hasn’t a clue, and so he’s bitten his tongue about how he truly feels— hiding behind a mask of teasing and jokes for the time being.

» Yes, teasing. No amount of reservations towards confessing could ever stop Lilia from teasing you. If anything, it only causes his teasing to increase, eventually evolving into something a bit more flirtatious.

» When you’re engrossed in any type of study at the library, he’ll appear in front of you, floating upside down with a wide grin on his face. When you jump back, startled, he merely laughs and comments on how cute you look when you’re focused.

» Sometimes, when you’re walking to class or back to your dorm, he’ll jump out and hug you from behind, near-tackling you to the ground. And though you’re always startled, you always know it’s Lilia hugging you. You’ll just let out a laugh, turn around, and hug him right back. The first time it happened, Lilia couldn’t help his shocked expression, easily melting into your warmth. Now, it’s exactly what he wants and expects when he does this. After all, hearing your laughter and gentle tone as you return his hug is always worth it to him.

» Despite all of this, though, he can’t find it in him to confess— convinced that you two are better off as friends. Who knows what the future holds? Human lives are already so delicate— would it truly be worth it for what’ll feel like a flash of happiness?

» This point comes up when he’s playing online games with Idia. Honestly, he doesn’t quite expect the conversation to take such a turn, but it does.

» “Red, you’ve been a lot less active lately. Kind of an L… but I guess it’s to be expected since you’ve got that partner of yours. Meh. At least you seem happier,” Idia comments. Lilia audibly hums, hands pausing on his keyboard.

» “Ah, you’re mistaken, Shroud. They aren’t my partner— just a friend! Much like you!” Lilia chimes. Idia lets out a quiet, disgruntled sound on the other end.

» “Uh, yeah, pass. We aren’t friends like that. I’m not blind, Lilia. Everyone sees how you look at them. If you were like that with me I’d be weirded out… but uh, why haven’t you told them anyway?” Idia idly questions, and Lilia sighs.

» “Well, us fae have prolonged lifespans. I can imagine that’d be a dealbreaker for most. I’m fine just being their cutest friend!” Lilia hums, but he can practically hear Idia’s eyes roll from the other end.

» “That’s a load of BS. Look, I’m not good at IRL romance, but from what I’ve seen in games, love interests get totally peeved when you try deciding things for them! The, uh… fae-immortality thing. Have you ever even talked to them about it?”

» That made Lilia pause. Well, he supposed he hadn’t really mentioned it to you… but he’d always assumed based on what he’d heard from so many others that you’d believe the same. Before he could respond, Idia continued.

» “And like, OP immortality stuff aside, that last line is a total lie. Are you really fine being stuck all friend-zoned? Can you handle someone else sweeping them away from you? And in the future, what if you aren’t even close? I doubt losing the route is better than, I dunno, trying?” Idia mumbles. Lilia takes a moment to process before letting out a bright laugh.

» “You should speak your mind like this more, Idia,” Lilia mentions.

» “In person? Uh, yeah, no way.”

» The conversation sticks with him, though. Idia is right. Lilia can never possibly know how you feel unless he confesses to you. Even if the future may be uncertain, the thought of losing you— of no longer having you by his side— wasn’t worth it. If confessing meant he’d have a chance to stay with you for the rest of your life, then he’d risk it.

» He’d never met anyone as kind, caring, and understanding as you. Not only did you listen to his many stories from his lifespan, you never doubted any of it for a second. You always give his cooking a try even though you know it’ll be less than edible, but you never judge him. You give him pointers, help him in the kitchen, and dutifully support him in his improvement. Sometimes, you’ll cook for him when he’s a bit too tired to give it another shot.

» You happily joke with him, tease him, compliment him, and spend time with him without a care for what his status used to be. When people warn you of “Diasomnia’s Powerful Vice Housewarden,” you look the other way. You don’t see his titles, his power— you just see him. You adore him not because he could crush you in an instant, but because you’ve become friends with the playful fae that he is.

» In his entire life, he’s met very few people as kind as you. However, you’ve been the one of the only ones to see and embrace all sides of him. Whether he’s fighting for his loved ones, or on stage with the rest of the Light Music club— you accept him.

» In the past, he’s made the mistake of letting go of the ones he loves. Because he thinks it’s better for them— because he feels that he’s dangerous or a dealbreaker. This time, he’s determined to do things differently.

» He wants it to be your choice. You’ve respected him and his choices, so he owes you the same treatment. This time, it’ll be different.

» He’ll confess to you properly and hear your answer. He just hopes it’s the one he also wants to hear.

♚ say the words !

» Lilia hasn’t properly confessed to someone in ages. He isn’t above asking for help should he need it, but it’s more of a matter of who to ask. Surely not his fellow Diasomnia members— they didn’t have as much romantic experience. Idia’s knowledge extends only to virtual games, so eventually, he settles on asking his clubmates.

» When he presents his issue, he’s surprised to find Cater gaping at him, Kalim equally as shocked. Just as Idia had, they assumed that you were already dating him. (Just how many people thought this?)

» After their shock subsided, Cater was more than happy to assist, along with Kalim. Lilia’s courting knowledge was vast, but much of it was outdated. He didn’t want to scare you off, so he wanted to learn some of the more modern methods of courtship.

» Though, both of the suggestions he received fell flat. Cater suggested a very Magicam worthy date, while Kalim suggested a carpet ride of sorts. They both offered to assist with their respective ideas, but Lilia couldn’t accept. None of it felt right. While he was sure both ideas would impress you, it didn’t feel authentic.

» As much as Lilia loved to tease, he wanted this confession to be serious— to be personal. He didn’t want to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. Eventually, he asked Silver for help. Surely, he’d have some insight considering how well he knew Lilia.

» “Have you considered just using one of the methods you already know, father?” Silver asks with a tilt of his head.

» “I’m afraid all of my methods are rather outdated for this day and age, Silver,” Lilia muses. Silver responds with a small sigh and shakes his head.

» “So? They know who you are already, right? Even if the method’s a little outdated, it’ll be true to yourself. They’ve gotten to know you, so I doubt they’d expect something modern anyway,” Silver finishes. Lilia’s eyes widened and he smiled. Of course, how could he forget?

» You already knew of his vast experiences across countless years. Perhaps, trying to adapt to a modernity he was unfamiliar with simply wasn’t right. He’d confess to you in a way that felt true to him. He was certain you’d understand.

» Eventually, Lilia settled on something true to his Briar Valley roots. Rather traditional, but it was still romantic to him. He’d enchant a briar rose, wrap it in the twine from a spinning wheel, and seal it in a glass case. Then, when the moon was high in the sky, he’d present it to you. Should you return his feelings, the rose would live on. If not, it would wilt away.

» The story such a tradition originated from resonated with him. Someone beautiful and bright falling for someone considered a monstrous outcast. It was quite touching. He wasted no time in gathering his materials, going as far as to travel back home for a moment to find the most beautiful rose for the confession.

» Once finished, he enchanted the rose, imbuing it with his magic— his wish to be with you for the rest of your eternity. Then, the briar rose was tied with twine and sealed away into the glass case. With a smile on his face, he waited as night fell, then sought you out.

» Luckily, your light was on, though dim through your window. Tapping lightly on the glass, he tested to see if you were awake. The sudden noise startled you, but you knew only one person who could possibly visit you this late at night. And enter through your window, no less!

» “Lilia? It’s late, why are you here?” you question in a hush tone, moving to the side to allow him entry into your room. He slips in, grinning as he presents you the rose.

» “As is Briar Valley tradition, I can only present this to you at night. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Lilia says, watching your expression carefully. Your eyes widen as you take the encased rose, observing it closely.

» “It’s beautiful. What’s the occasion? Did something happen?” you ask with a light laugh as you scan the flower. Before he can answer, your eyes widen as you seemingly put the pieces together.

» “Wait… you’ve mentioned this. This is a Briar Rose, right? The string wrapped around it… the glass… Briar Valley tradition— ah! Are you…?” your voice trails off as your face flushes. Lilia merely grins, eyes glinting with mischief.

�� “Am I what, dearest?” he questions with a teasing tone. You shake your head and laugh, covering your face a bit.

» “Is this… a confession?” you whisper. Lilia’s eyes soften and he approaches you, placing his hands over yours as he peered into the glass at the rose.

» “How observant. You really do listen to me! This is a confession. I’m terribly in love with you. You’ve invaded my every thought before I could think to stop you! So I’ve decided to tell you. I know my nature can be a bit… alarming, but I wanted to tell you anyway. Silly, isn’t it?” Lilia says softly.

» “It isn’t silly, Lilia. And of course it’s mutual. For as omnipotent as you tend to be at times, you’re a little clueless, aren’t you?” you respond with a warm laugh. Lilia looks at you and tilts his head.

» “What do you mean?” he asks.

» “I’ve liked you for a long time now. Have you ever noticed my advances? I don’t treat you like I treat my other friends, y’know! Plus, the whole immortality thing doesn’t scare me… no part of you ever could,” you say. Lilia processes for a moment before beaming with a sharp grin.

» “Oh really? You’ll be stuck with me for quite some time? Are you truly ready to have such a cute, wonderful partner for the rest of your life?” he teases. You merely smile, placing the rose to the side. Pulling him into a tight hug, you gently nod.

» “I’ve been ready for quite some time now. I’m more than happy to call you mine.”

» Lilia melts into your embrace and lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in. All of his memories of you come flooding into his mind. He’d been too afraid of judgment to notice at the time, but now he could see it— the way you reserved your brightest smiles for him. The way you’d gently lean into his side when sitting together— even the way you’d watch after Silver on his behalf.

» You’d loved him for quite some time, and now he could finally say that you were his. He’d have you by his side— and he could look towards the future with no regrets, knowing you’d be there.

♚ at last, with you !

» After you two officially start dating, Lilia acts more or less the same, however, in addition to his usual teasing, he becomes a lot more comfortable being openly affectionate with you.

» Are you walking beside him? His hand is intertwined with yours, then. Just sat down with your friends for lunch? Expect him to hug you from behind and kiss your temple as a greeting. Are you having a study session? Well Lilia’s there, leaned against your side and resting against you as you work. Lilia loves affection, so he gives you plenty of it.

» While he usually initiates any affection, if you ever initiate it first, it makes him incredibly happy. If you reach for his hand first, or greet him with a kiss, he always gets a wide grin and teases you about it. He’ll joke that you actually do love him, and that you must be head over heels for him to initiate such sweet affection. Once he manages to get your face to flush under his relentless teasing, he’ll let up and ask you to do whatever affection you initiated again.

» With how touchy he is, it’s only natural that people find out that you two are actually dating now. Because of your increased presence in Diasomnia, Silver, Malleus, and Sebek are quick to find out.

» Silver and Malleus are entirely supportive. Silver can visibly see how happy you make his father. Lilia spends less time alone nowadays, so Silver doesn’t have to worry about him as much anymore. He knows you’re a great match for Lilia given how much you care for him. Plus, your cooking is easily much better than his dad’s, but hey! Your presence has also made Lilia’s food more tolerable, so Silver’s content.

» Malleus is glad that Lilia’s found someone who respects him, but also accepts his more peculiar aspects. It’s something Malleus often struggled with himself, typically only having Lilia to turn to. In you, Lilia has found a partner, but Malleus has also found a cherished friend. You respect him, invite him out, and listen to him just as you do with Lilia. With such a kind soul, it’s only natural Lilia was drawn to you. So long as you two take care of one another, Malleus is certain that it’s a bond that’ll last a long time.

» Sebek is a different story. He’s at war with his internalized hatred against humans. He wants to respect Lilia’s choice, but he struggles to understand why at first. So, at the beginning he’s weary— closely watching your every move. Instead of finding flaws, he comes to realize why Lilia chose you. You don’t use him for his power, you engage with him and his hobbies, and you even watch after Malleus and Silver. With time, Sebek warms up to you. Of course he does! Perhaps, not all humans are bad. You’ve certainly proved that to him.

» His dormmates’— well, family’s approval is all that Lilia needs to know he’s made the best decision possible for himself. You fit right into his small family, as if you were always meant to be there. You fit right into his life, actually.

» You’re always in the crowd during his Light Music club performances. During the Magift tournaments, you’re in the crowd, cheering his name. Even when he finds himself busy with schoolwork, you’re there— sitting across from him as you work on your own assignments. He’s become so used to your presence in his daily life, but he does love dates with you, as well.

» Designated time to spend with one another. Naturally, he very much enjoys spending time alone with you. More often than not, you two have date nights in. Playing games, watching movies, staying up— it’s all a bit juvenile, but Lilia’s proud of his childish side. Plus, as long as you’re having fun, then it’s worth it.

» He loves those nights so much. Laying side by side after the movies are over, curled up together and having hushed conversation. It’s his favorite. You’ll share your dreams— your aspirations in the dark of the night. Lilia shares his experiences, the things he’s seen that he can’t wait to show you. It helps him visualize the vast future you both have ahead of you— the experiences he has yet to have. It makes him excited, but as much as he wants to see it, he’s content with time passing slowly by your side. As long as he’s with you, he’s happy.

» However, for as much as you two play around, for as much as you both cause chaos together— it isn’t all bright and sunny. Lilia is prone to painful nightmares— memories of his past dredging up and meshing with his recent memories. He’ll dream of losing Silver, Sebek, Malleus— even you— to a war much like the one he’d experienced. During those nights, he’s lucky if he gets even a single hour of sleep.

» You always seem to notice, though. In the morning, you’ll see his tired expression. No matter how much he tries to cover it with a grin, you see right through him. You never judge him or pity him, though. You merely guide him back to his room— school forgotten in favor of a day of healing. You’ll lay him down, remaining by his side as you run your fingers through his hair.

» “I’m here, and you aren’t gonna lose me. We’ve still got a lifetime ahead of us. You can rest. I’ll be here by your side when you wake up.”

» Your soothing words always put a smile on his face. He’ll hold you a little tighter as he drifts back to sleep, knowing that you’ll be there to comfort him should his nightmares wake him up again. On the days that his terrors do startle him awake again, you’re right there— gently rubbing circles into his back as he tells you what he saw. No matter how horrifying the nightmare, your smile remains as you comfort him— assure him that it won’t happen. Lilia will not lose you.

» You’ll always lighten the mood after, teasing him and insisting that he cannot be rid of you that easily. It always puts a smile on Lilia’s face, causing him to quirk a brow and question as to whatever could’ve possessed you to think that’d he’d want you gone?

» After some shared laughter as well as a few playful fights, Lilia manages to relax, night terrors long forgotten in favor of your warmth and comfort.

» Your comfort is so important to him. Of course, he loves being reassured that you won’t go anywhere, but it goes deeper than that.

» At NRC, Lilia is regarded as a terrifying fae with extensive abilities. Though he frequently jokes about his age, there are very few who actually believe him. Most think he’s merely joking— thus his struggles often go unnoticed. After all, someone that powerful couldn’t possibly be affected by loss after experiencing so much of it, or, he must be lying! He looks far too young to have been in any sort of war!

» As much as he tends to laugh it off, it gets to him. He’s forced to hold back— unable to express that emotional side of him. All people see is the conniving, teasing third year. If he ever expressed his painful experiences from his past, he’d likely be called a liar. In truth, he isn’t. And loss doesn’t hurt any less just because he’s strong. The sting of loss hurts just as much the first time as it does countless times after.

» And you understand that. You believe him. With a gentle smile and soft affection, you show him that while his experiences have made him stronger, it doesn’t mean he has to be immune to pain or fear. You show him that he doesn’t need to always hide away behind a facade of playfulness around you. You’re always there to listen, should he need the space to talk.

» For that, Lilia is grateful. You’re willing to share his best and worst moments, and you do so without pitying him or doubting him. You love him dearly. Teasing, serious, even a little scary— all are sides of him that you adore.

» For Lilia, that’s important. Because he knows he has a limited amount of time left, and that your time is limited, as well. For you to be so willing to dedicate that time to him— it’s quite beautiful.

» And with whatever time Lilia has left, he plans to do just the same.

» For you are the very embodiment of the future he hopes to live. And so long as that briar rose he confessed with remains bloomed, he knows that you feel the exact same.

— fin.

#twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst headcanons #winnie-writes #winnie-wishes

[ryuichirou]

Trey/Vil headcanons, please?

Anon!

To be completely honest with you, the last time we got asked about this ship I was just mildly intrigued by it, but the more I think about it, the more it kind of rapidly grows on me.  In fact, I ended up writing a bunch of hella long headcanons lol For some reason I have too much to say about them.

So yeah, some headcanons about these two…

I hope you enjoy <3

Vil really likes flirting with Trey. He keeps things between them “neutrally friendly” and even professional for the most part, of course, but whenever they are alone he just can’t help but tease Trey a little bit. Maybe it’s because Trey is always so well put together and awkwardly “neutral” in his reaction, as if he’s trying to deflect the flirting, but at the same time he clearly doesn’t mind it. What a cunning man: he wants to play along, but doesn’t want to make it his responsibility. But yeah, there is obvious tension between them, and if they’re left together for more than 20 minutes, their chat would turn weirdly sexual for some reason.

Vil doesn’t buy Trey’s normal guy façade for a second. He knows that he has a darker side, but doesn’t fully understand just how dark it is; he just thinks that Trey is a bit of a freak + mainly notes how Trey’s sickly-sweet niceness and overly-caring nature do more harm than good. He thinks it’s both accidental and intentional: of course it’s natural for Trey to take care of people… but he is clearly an obsessive and overprotective enabler type who has a selfish side. He is both a huge people-pleaser and someone who oversteps personal boundaries “for the sake of the better good”. A huge red flag that really irritates Vil. So he wouldn’t want to be in any type of serious relationship with Trey, he probably doesn’t even generally expect it to become anything more than just flirting, but he’s having too much fun with Trey sometimes…

Trey also isn’t really interested in any kind of serious relationship with Vil, although if he was asked about it he would say something like “come on, a guy like me? That’s just ridiculous”, implying that he is way too plain to be with someone like Vil. But this is just an excuse, because he feels like with Vil he can’t really play his usual game of overbearing kindness: he knows Vil doesn’t fully buy it. But he still enjoys getting Vil something nice every now and then: like bringing him those fancy silks from the Scalding Sands… Seeing Vil, who is usually so serious and regal, suddenly all excited and giggly is the best thing. Well, the second best after all the flirting that leads to the unbearable sexual tension that always gets cut short by some random circumstances.

Even though 90% of their flirty chats is one of them going “oh you, stop it”, when one of them finally leans for a kiss, it’ll be a pretty… reciprocal (?) kiss. So none of them would get a second to realise what’s going on, they would just start kissing. And even though they spent quite a long time playing around with the idea, exchanging flirtations and eyeing each other, once their lips touch, they won’t hold back anymore. Both of them probably wouldn’t be virgins by that time, so… the whole thing is probably going to be rather self-indulgent for both of them.

They’re not exactly each other’s type but they do find each other very attractive. It’s unusual for Trey to go for someone taller… even taller than he is in fact, but he still loved Vil’s long legs wayyyy more than he anticipated.

Trey got really surprised by Vil’s flexibility the first time they had sex. He knew that he’s pretty flexible, since he does yoga and all, but… wow. The fact that Vil was feeling playful and was showing off a little bit certainly added to the effect.

Vil also got surprised, but it was by Trey’s kinkiness. He has a pretty god radar when it comes to what people are into, but he doesn’t think about it much; so he knew that Trey is definitely into some weird stuff, but he didn’t know it was “shoving fingers into one’s mouth and touching teeth and tongue” weird. Vil isn’t sure how he felt about it: he thinks it turned him off a bit, but his body reacted way too excitedly for that to be a 100% truth.

Vil absolutely would tease Trey about him having sex with the insanely famous model: ask him about how it feels, tell him that his fans would rip Trey to pieces if they find out. And even though Trey replies with an awkward “let’s not tell them then, alright?”, his whole body gets obviously excited by this provocation.

#replies #headcanons #treyvil

[amynchan]

How is a show for babies and toddlers so popular with people that are much older?

Gonna take this question in good faith and answer in good faith.

My instinctual answer is because the show is made with the parents who are minding the children in mind.  A lot of children’s shows do exactly what’s on the tin and no more:  show children how to begin to integrate into a world that is much bigger than themselves.  Share, act kindly, think about what you want to say, be good, sometimes rules are there for a reason, etc, etc.  However, Bluey has stuff that’s just for the adults that goes a little beyond crude humor (which, this isn’t a dig.  It’s just that it’s been done so much that I think a lot of people either expect it as a given or are tired of it).

People will point to episodes like Sleepytime, and Cricket is becoming a fan favorite, but I personally enjoy Chest and Stickbird.  Those resonate with me.

For kids, Chest is about Bandit being silly when it comes to trying to teach Bluey how to play chess.  It ends in a victory for the kids because they do not want to play chess, and they end up playing on the floor with their newfound pieces who are “not dead” because they’re in charge of the rules now.

For adults, Chest is about Bandit trying to teach Bluey--and by extension, Bingo--a game that should help them grow more intelligent as they grow older.  This action, which is taken by many fathers (including my own when he taught me how to navigate a computer and how to begin looking into code when I was 11 or so back in 2006?) is called out and analyzed by his wife, Chili.  Chili goes into a monologue about why Bandit wants to teach the girls chess, how he’s doing it because he is actually a good father who wants his children to be able to take care of themselves once he can’t do it anymore, and about how it’s not necessary when Bluey and Bingo are 6 and 4 respectively.  “Work on their heads later.  For now, just hearts.”

Chest is a sneaky rule-bending fun time for the kids, and it’s a lesson in parenting for the adults.  There’s even something for young adults with the line “[I’m] a lousy chess player.” “And you turned out fine” between Chili and Bandit.  It’s a bit of a gentle reassurance that I think a lot of people need sometimes, and it made me feel a little better about myself.  It even helps me a little bit in my role as an instructor since I teach at a transitional part of my students’ lives and I have to remember that while the content I teach would be easy in isolation, I do have to also take care of what they consider important to them.  It’s important to me as a person given where I’m at in life.

Stickbird is different in that it gives the same lesson to children and adults alike because it’s timeless, and we adults tend to forget it as we grow up.

For kids, stickbird is a fun day at the beach where Bluey and Bingo learn to throw.  Chili, their mom, teaches them, and Bandit, their dad, is in a funk.  It’s not really important.  What’s important to kids is that Bingo, the youngest, wants to throw more sticks and so drags Bandit along with her.  Along the way, they find a Really Neat Stick and create a sand bird out of it.  Fun times!  Then they go get more sticks.  Then--uh oh!--some other kids at the beach take the stickbird’s head, which upsets Bingo.  Bingo spends some time upset and angry, which she states very firmly when Bluey succeeds in learning how to throw and is excited to show Bingo.  When Bluey learns that Bingo is upset--not really why, just that she is--she offers a trick shown to her by her friend.  Bluey, in true kid fashion, “gathers the upset and angry...from your neck...and your belly...and behind your ears” and then asks Bingo if she wants to keep it.  Bingo thinks about it, as all kids do, and says “no.”  There’s a funny back-and-forth about giving the angry and upset to either Bluey or Bandit, and neither of them want it, so Bingo asks what to do with it, and Bluey tells her to “throw it away...really far” using the lesson that Chili gave them both.  So, Bingo does, and she feels better, and there’s a hooray moment before the girls race each other on the beach, giggling.  And that’s where it ends for the kids.

For adults, our focus is immediately drawn by Bandit, the typically excitable and playful father who is in a serious funk.  Chili draws attention to it towards the beginning by saying “let it go, babe.  You’re missing it.”  Throughout the episode, while the kids are watching Bingo and her lack of emotional regulation, we’re watching Bandit and how he, an adult who has learned how to compartmentalize and regulate emotions, is dealing with his own upset.  He’s too quiet, and it’s honestly a bit unsettling if you know him as a character.  He stands off to the side and interacts a little bit while Bluey explains to Bingo how to deal with her “angry and upset,” and after the girls run off and the kids celebrate, the camera stays with Bandit.  He doesn’t say anything.  He just starts miming what his children just did, takes a deep breath, and throws the camera itself far into the ocean.  Before the perspective plops in the water (in a shot that is honestly gorgeous and made me beam with a joy only being thrown as a kid can elicit), we see a return of normal Bandit, loud and excitable and ready to play with his kids.

Stickbird is about handling life’s shit, and that’s a timeless lesson.  The lesson is outlined boldly for the kids, but there’s a reminder that we as adults sometimes need to throw the little problems away in order to live our best lives.

To me, it’s kind of like how Phineas and Ferb was jam-packed with so many good things despite each episode being 15 minutes.  PnF has 3 simultaneous storylines (the boys and their adventures, Candace and her adventures, and Perry and Doofenshmirtz), and Bluey has 2 (something kid-centric and something adult-centric) jam-packed into 7 minutes a pop.  Bluey also has a tendency of bringing back childlike wonder without being condescending or demeaning to the audience, which can be an unintended side effect for many children’s shows when they’re trying to explain big concepts to minds that want to absorb things but have a difficult time parsing fact from fiction.  (Seriously, it’s just a developmental stage that those shows are trying to cater to.)

So, yeah, I’m 27, childless, and enjoy Bluey.  There are so many teenagers who enjoy it as well.  And, of course, parents and their babies enjoy it, too.  Some like the healing aspect of it, some enjoy the silly games, and some just enjoy it for being what it is.  I can’t tell anyone to love it or anything.  All I can say is that it’s a good idea to give some of the episodes a chance and judge for yourself whether you, as a person, like it or not.  If you do, then welcome!  I hope you find an episode that you really, REALLY enjoy!  If you don’t, then I hope you enjoy the fandoms that you, as a person, enjoy while I do the same.

#Bluey #PnF

[whiskygoldwings]

Anecdotes of a Guard Life: Stone's Tattoo

CW: Sexualised discussion, mocking of a character for not understanding what a sexual term means (Thorn's good-natured here, but don't be dicks people!)

I saw a post about Stone and his tattoo, and I couldn't help but think what Fox thinks...

-

It’s not always fun and games in the Guard. Sometimes, it’s serious matters requiring serious responses.

“Do you think Stone’s tattoo means what I think it means?”

This is not one of those matters.

Fox places his finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose, and desperately wishes for patience. He’s 36 hours in. His caf mug is empty. There’s still a pile of datapads as tall as Thire (who’s 2 inches shorter than the rest of him and will never be allowed to forget it) waiting for him. And Thorn’s sitting with their feet on his desk, throwing a squishy ball that frankly, Fox doesn’t want to know how they got hold of, and asking inane, stupid questions that make Fox want to bury his head in his hands and scream.

It’s a typical Taungsday really.

“What?” Fox asks, knowing there’s absolutely no getting out of a conversation Thorn has decided to have. He’d have more luck asking the Chancellor for a tenday off, and that won’t happen until there’s snow on Tattooine.

Thorn hums. “Stone’s tattoo. What exactly do you think he meant by that?”

Fox squints at Thorn. “Which one?”

The ball drops into Thorn’s hands but doesn’t get thrown back up, as they turn to blink at Fox instead. “The one on his head?” There’s an amused tone to their voice, and Fox narrows his eyes further.

“69?”

Thorn’s lips twitch. “That uh... That’d be the one, yes.”

Fox thinks for a second, then seesaws his hand in the armoured version of a shrug. “I always thought it was a bit weird. His ident code ends in 68, maybe it’s a batchmate or something?” He ducks back towards his datapads, hoping that’s the end of that so he can keep plodding his way through the rest of his mountain of datapads.

It is not the end of that. He should know better to be hopeful.

Thorn swings their feet off his desk, and leans towards him. “Fox. Do you... Do you know what 69 means?”

Fox glares at him. It’s a number. What the kriff is Thorn on about? He thinks quickly, trying to remember if the number has ever come to his attention for some reason. Other than numerous recquisition forms, he really can’t imagine why he’d care.

Thorn leans back, and their expression tells Fox he’s in deep, deep danger. His spine straightens, and his brows furrow into a glare on instinct.

Thorn’s not phased. The fucker. They’ve developed immunity to him. He’d almost be proud of the dikut, except this means Thorn won’t back off like the others.

He staunchly ignores the warm feeling in his chest at that.

“Fox, I cannot stress just how much you need to get out more.” Thorn says, voice haughty and nose tipped up into the air.

“Thorn, I will put you on Senate duty for a month.” Fox states sweetly, teeth gritted.

Thorn visibly wilts. “You wouldn’t.”

Fox merely raises an eyebrow.

Thorn sighs. “Seriously, do you not know?”

Fox glares. “Who the fuck cares? So Stone has a number on his head! As long as he doesn’t take his helmet off in the Senate it’s not a problem.”

Thorn’s silent, and that’s dangerous. Fox glances up at them, tearing his eyes away from the datapad, only to see their eyebrow twitching, and their mouth strangely twisted like they’re trying to hold back a laugh.

He narrows his eyes at them, watching as they put their hand over their eyes, and take several, giggly, deep breaths. They manage to calm themselves, slide their hand down, and glance at him, then abruptly whip it back up again and make a strange, choked noise.

Fox puts up with this for far longer than he really should have done, but his patience is thin under the strain of lack of caf, and he snaps. “Thorn, get the fuck out of my office if you’re not going to explain yourself.”

Thorn squeaks, something Fox has definitely never heard before, before rising to their feet, hand still covering their eyes until they turn away from Fox, where they drop their hand to their hip and bend over to take a few, deep breaths. Abruptly, they stand, grabbing their helmet, and Fox could swear he hears them mutter “Gotta get him out of the office more” as they leave.

Fox rolls his eyes, then bends back to his datapads, frowning at the form he could swear he’s already read but can’t remember.

Hmm...

He makes a note on one datapad, grabbing another to cross-reference.

Maybe he should ask Stone what his tattoo means...

#This is terrible #And I'm sorry #But have it anyway #star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #commander fox #marshall commander fox #commander thorn #my fanfiction #sexualised discussion

[bananasofthorns]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

This is stupid, Joel decides. It’s about the fifth time in less than three days that he’s gone to say something to Etho only to realize that, for obvious reasons, Etho isn’t there.

He’s not sure why he’s so affected by Double Life when the previous games didn’t really get to him at all. Then again, he never really had a solid alliance those times. And he definitely didn’t have a soulmate. But still. He was perfectly happy to move on with his life as if nothing monumental had happened, thank you very much.

Even so, he is sometimes capable of not ignoring his problems and realizing when he’s being ridiculous, and this is one of those times. Seriously, he was perfectly fine without Etho before this. Gods - is that a thing he can say, still? If he, technically, is a god?

That’s a question for another time, he decides. The point is that he was fine without Etho before, and so he should definitely be fine without him now, even if it’s only been a few days. Maybe if he actually talks to Etho he’ll be better at adjusting, or whatever. Coping. Does he need to cope? 

He flicks up his comm interface and opens his contacts, only to pause. He doesn’t have Etho’s contact; it was automatically programmed into his comm during Double Life, but contact information doesn’t transfer between worlds unless he purposefully saves it, and he didn’t exactly think he’d be missing Etho like some— some abandoned puppy, or something, while Double Life was going on. So much for that plan. Maybe he can get Grian or Scar or someone to give him Etho’s contact next time they see each other during MCC.

He frowns. That seems too— personal, somehow? Too close to home? For some reason, he feels like it would be weird to ask any of the Hermits who were in Double Life for Etho’s contact. Like they’ll know too much, or something. But who else can he ask? He doesn’t really talk to any of the other Hermits unless they’re on a world together, and—

Oh, he’s an idiot. He literally traded with Gem, like, yesterday. How did he forget that?

“Goodness gracious,” he mutters under his breath.

He’s about to jump off the island and fly over before remembering that he should maybe check to see if she’s even home, just so that he doesn’t look like an idiot by showing up only to realize she’s halfway across the world or something.

Smallishbeans whispered to GeminiTay: Gem Smallishbeans whispered to GeminiTay: are you home?

Luckily, it doesn’t take her very long to respond, so he isn’t left standing on the edge of his island like an idiot.

GeminiTay whispered to Smallishbeans: yeah what’s up

Smallishbeans whispered to GeminiTay: can I come by real quick?

GeminiTay whispered to Smallishbeans: sure! I’m just doing some building

Smallishbeans whispered to GeminiTay: be right there

It doesn’t take him long to make the flight. Gem is waiting for him when he lands; she greets him with a bright smile and a wave that he returns, though his is somewhat awkward because the last time he was here he was giving her bees to prevent some sort of international dispute. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to hold that against him.

“Hey, Joel! What’s up?”

Joel clears his throat. Gem barely reaches up to his waist right now, since he’s 11 feet tall and all that, and something about the height difference feels like it’s offending her more than he’s ever felt like he’s offended any other empire. He sits down cross-legged just off the path. Gem laughs.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I feel weird, otherwise. Anyway, I have...kind of an odd question...? For you?”

“Hit me.” She pauses. “Not literally. What’s your question?”

“Do you happen to have Etho’s contact?”

To her credit, she barely pauses. “Hm. I can check, but I don’t think I ever saved it to my communicator, sorry. You could go ask False, maybe? She’s known him a lot longer than I have.”

Damn. “No, that’s fine. Uh, would you mind passing on a message, though? Next time you’re on Hermitcraft.”

“Sure! What do you want me to say? We can write it down or something, that would make it a lot easier, because then I wouldn’t have to remember it or anything.” She hesitates, watching Joel with a scrutinizing look in her eye that he’s not sure he likes. “And I won’t look at it, if you don’t want me to.”

He makes a face. “It’s not gonna be anything bad.”

“I know! But, like— privacy’s important, you know, Joel. I respect that.”

He chuckles. “Thanks, Gem.”

Somehow, he always forgets how genuinely nice she is. Maybe it’s because he’s intimidated by her.

Not that he’s scared. He’s not scared of anything. But he will admit that Gem, at times, can be very intimidating.

“I’ll write something down,” he decides. “Uh, do you happen to have a piece of paper I could borrow? I haven’t got any on me.”

“Of course! Somewhere. Follow me, we’ll find some.”

She turns and bounces down the path deeper into Dawn. Joel follows.

#smallishbeans #geminitay #boat boys #smalletho #banana writes things #aywth au #banana made a post #this is very self indulgent and fun to write #the au's/fic's full name is ''anything you want to hear'' if you were curious #no idea where this story's gonna go. but enjoy!

[genericpuff]

Hello. I wasn’t the anon from last time but I realized my question came off as rude and standoff-ish. it was actually just a genuine question of whether you think all webtoon original creators are/should be held to the same level of scrutiny as LO is. You said before that its okay for indie comics to look messy or unprofessional because they’re passion projects. But I was just thinking of all the webtoon originals that are overworked and under paid. Kind of makes me feel bad because webtoon presents them as professional works— yet treats them like indie projects. And its throwing them under the bus because they dont have any of the same resources as traditional print. When rachel gets called out for reusing panels/artworks, adding filler, and taking shortcuts it sets a precedent that all webtoon originals shouldn’t do that.

Oh you're good!!! Sorry if I came at you like a flying monkey, it was just very similar to the last set of asks so I made a faulty assumption LOL

I do think there's a lot of responsibility on WT's shoulders to do better by their creators. A lot of them are burnt out, underpaid, overworked, as you said, and I'm definitely not looking past that. The only reason I get on Rachel's case as much as I do is because she has WAY more assistants than others, people who are literally industry professionals (seriously, look up their socials/art pages sometime, some of these people literally work in the larger entertainment industries like movies and gaming, it makes it feel like their skills are being SEVERELY wasted on LO with how bad it looks week after week) and there's just a lot of evidence that points to how much Rachel lies about how much she contributes (she's also definitely one of the top earning creators on the platform, at least here in NA). That's not even getting into how much WT carries Rachel and LO on their shoulders, from giving LO extensive ad space every week (ad space that's constantly being fought for by other Originals creators who are lucky to get even a couple hours per season in the ad roulette) to outright paying for awards and articles to be written about it. Like, far be it from me to make assumptions as an outsider looking in, but I don't get the sense that Rachel is in the same ballpark of struggling that a lot of Originals creators are. If anything there are probably creators struggling to be seen right now because of WT constantly giving her and her comic preferential treatment over others. And yeah, that's on Webtoons, but you don't exactly see Rachel doing anything to lift up her peers or talk about her experiences with Webtoons the same way many other creators are and that says a lot IMO.

And, speaking as a creator and as a reader, I'm definitely not against the notion of webtoon creators using whatever shortcuts they need to use, but I still feel like there's a line you gotta draw somewhere before those shortcuts become definitively "lazy" low quality crutches. Those kinds of shortcuts can become a very slippery slope between "doing the best you can" and "making no effort at all". If I can use a creator who's not Rachel as an example, Let's Play has a LOT of this kind of thing going on.

I can totally empathize with needing to use shortcuts, I use them all the time and I'm not being burnt at both ends the same way Originals creators are, but while there is the concern that criticizing them sets a precedent that people shouldn't use them ever, there's the opposite concern that not talking about it when it's very obviously cheap sets a precedent that it's okay to give your audience garbage and still expect them to stick around and pay money for your work.

It's not really a battle that sits squarely on the shoulders of the creators, though, a lot of it does come down to Webtoons. But I think there are also creators who are just sorta like that. See Snailords as an example, they use WT underpaying them all the time as an argument/excuse for their behavior, but they're a genuinely shitty person with a nasty attitude who very blatantly manipulates their young audience (literally made up of children!) and they've been like that since before they joined WT as an Originals creator, so it doesn't matter if WT is in the picture or not, Snailords is just like that.

When it comes to Rachel, I genuinely believe that she wasn't always like this with her work, there was a time when she put actual effort into her art - but that time has been long gone since 2019/2020. And I don't think WT paying her more or loosening the strictness of her deadlines is the solution, I just think LO should have ended a long time ago before it got to that point. When LO's art and writing started to turn, there was that initial concern that it was her taking these shortcuts out of necessity for her health and work/life balance... but then there's a point where it becomes abundantly clear that the creator just doesn't care anymore and I think that's a point Rachel crossed a long time ago, probably around the start of S2 if I had to try and guess exactly where.

When it comes right down to it, Webtoons Originals is still a form of publisher, and if you sign that contract, you're going to be held to higher standards than creators who aren't because you're no longer a hobbyist, you're doing this as your job. That's not to say you don't deserve empathy ever, especially in the working climate that WT demands, but if you're gonna be working as a professional in an industry that's begging to be respected among its peers, you gotta hold yourself to higher standards. To really get across what I mean by that, if the webtoon/webcomic industry wants to be taken seriously, especially here in the west where it's competing with DC and Marvel, maaaybe it should at least have some modicum of quality control to ensure there's a mutual level of respect between the audience and the creator. I think that's something WT needs to be taking more seriously and, by extension, they should be doing more to both provide assistance and accommodations to their creators as well as quality control to ensure they're holding these works to a standard they expect people to pay for. This is especially true for a comic like LO which they're insisting still has a show in development (they aren't but that's another topic lol), of course people are gonna have higher standards for a comic that's won as many awards as it has and has gotten television and merch deals.

And aside from all that, I don't think anyone gets mad right off the bat at a comic that isn't "perfect", usually they'll just go "oh okay, this is what the comic is, it's not for me" and move on (Religiously Gay is an example of a comic like this, there was already a lot of controversy surrounding it when it came out but it was pretty clear that was just what the comic was so I didn't bother reading it further). It's when a comic starts off on a good note and builds that rep and then becomes a cheap reproduction of what it used to be that audiences tend to get more upset - because the creator has built that rep with them and set those expectations, which they're now failing. Look no further than S8 of Game of Thrones. It's often WAY more disappointing than a project just never improving in quality in the first place because you're seeing, in real time, a project you know can do better fail at that and even get worse.

I'll also mention, on a personal note, that I've found shortcuts that I tried and ultimately didn't end up liking, even if they technically improved the output of my work. I started using 3D models last year for my main project, and while they improved my anatomy consistency, now they're making my poses feel very stiff, lifeless and boring, and my characters just don't feel alive anymore. So I'd MUCH rather have expressive art that's a little messy sometimes than stiff art with an accurate hip to torso ratio. I still aim for consistency as best I can, obviously I don't want my characters' appearances to be morphing from panel to panel, but in practice, most people don't care or notice if an arm or leg is a little out of place.

All that said, when it comes to LO, I don't call that stuff out as like, a genuine legit criticism. It's more just because it's hilarious and I often can't believe I never noticed those things (which is exactly the former point I just mentioned at play, most people don't notice these things). So that's where I'll repeat, don't confuse my shitposting of LO and how silly it can look in hindsight with like, legitimate criticism that I would blanket apply to every project I read. Apply common sense where necessary. Don't ever punch down.

And maybe also just don't use me as a monolith for these things, I'm literally just a guy talking shit on the Internet and participating in some of the worst that fandom culture has to offer LOL Time will tell if I will ever pay for my crimes（；´д｀）ゞ

#maybe i should start holding myself to a higher standard if people are taking my shitposting as a behavior manual u.u #also damn webtoons do better #lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #ask me anything #ama #antiloreolympus #anon ama #anon ask me anything

[myfairkatiecat]

Keefe (for bingo)

AHELDHKAUSHDKJAAHJSSHAKSBDKHSKSDSHAJAHDLDUSBSKSJSHALSHDHSKA

OK I CONTRADICTED MYSELF A LOT SO LET ME EXPLAIN

this is my favorite character of all time in any media, right up there with Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars, Nicholas & Nathaniel Benedict from TMBS (showverse) and Lancelot from bbc Merlin. Actually probably slightly above all those characters which is SAYING SOMETHING.

Is he comic relief? Yes.

Would I be his friend? Yes.

Has he done nothing wrong? Yes!! No he’s done many things wrong he’s so precious to me ok but the law he’s broken the law I love him so much he literally betrayed his friends I will always love him he has sooo much to answer for I’m glad Sophie forgives him after she chews him out she should chew him out longer but I suppose Fitz does that for her He has so many apologies to make but like he’s also done nothing wrong look I’m aware of my blorbo’s mistakes he’s honestly not as problematic as the tumblr fandom makes him out to be sometimes, and I MEAN that, but he’s also not as perfect and sweet as the eleven year olds on Wattpad make him out to be. He’s a LOT okay, you can’t analyze Keefe Sencen without the everything

Are my opinions unpopular? Yep! The other keefe girlies hate my opinions bc I acknowledge his character flaws and the Keefe haters hate my opinions bc I acknowledge the fact that he’s NOT an antagonist and actually has a lot of really good traits, and that’s NOT me making excuses. Also what are y’all on about saying he doesn’t get held accountable for his actions, like yeah Sophie forgives him pretty fast but not until she’s yelled at him, and the rest of his friends do NOT bounce back to normal (Fitz)

Do I relate to him? Yes, unfortunately. I have Fitz’s trauma and Keefe’s coping mechanisms (they aren’t good coping mechanisms but they’re literally mine)

Is the fandom wrong about him? Yes, the Keefe fans and Keefe haters alike. Don’t flatten this guy there’s SO MUCH THERE. (I’m not talking about my Keefe-negative mutuals—if I follow you, you didn’t flatten his character, I am very serious about Keefe Sencen)

Do I want to adopt him? YES I mean I’m literally his age but if I was old enough to adopt him I totally would, get that kid away from Cassius Sencen and kill Gisela Sencen. Honestly tho I’d settle for an Elwin adoption, dad!Elwin rocks

Did he need less screen time? *sighs in resigned Keefe fan* probably…objectively…yes…

Did canon do him dirty? I debated filling in this one. Because Shannon has made him a SUPER complex character. But also I swear if the ending of stellarlune isn’t the last time he steals something from Sophie to carry out a reckless plan he told no one about, I’ll riot. Don’t give him forward character progress and then erase it! If it’s a momentary relapse of bad habits I’ll allow it but I’m starting to want Shannon to let Keefe grow from all of that. Cause she keeps letting him get better—and then slip back. (Which isn’t unrealistic and I can work with!! I love him! But SHANNON PLEASE)

Do I want to study him? I want to get a full on PhD in this guy’s character arc actually

Did he need more screen time? Heh. Uh. Objectively NO. But also this amount of page time has allowed us to learn so much about his character complexities?? Like I’m torn between missing the other characters and eating up his character arc. Currently I’m gonna hope book 10 expands the other characters more bc I need more of them and 9.5 can feed my Keefe brain

Would I hit him with a golf cart? Listen my friend made this bingo game (hi Bods, if you’re reading this) and I know exactly what the actual intention was behind this square. But like. I want to slightly run into him with a golf cart. Just enough to slightly injure him and make him rethink his life choices (affectionate) (actually in the words of@phtalogreenpoison “I’d like to microwave Keefe. Just shortly”)

Does he need therapy? OH MY GOSH YES. I have thought this about other characters but SPECIFICALLY KEEFE HOLY GUACAMOLE GET THAT GUY THERAPY

Is he insane? Define insane. But I love him anyway (what is going on in his head half the time 😭)

Am I rotating him in my head 24/7? WELL YOU’VE READ THE POST WHAT DO YOU THINK

Do I have so many headcanons? Oh you guys don’t know the half of it. I have. So. Many. SO MANY

Is he wasted potential? Uhhhh I have too many thoughts on this to actually put it on this post. Genuinely love what Shannon’s doing with his character, like I said. But at some point she needs to. Address the things. Or he just becomes a guy with all these complications introduced that just kinda sit there and continue to change and grow and Keefe is the complex character to end all complex characters but Shannon you need to DO SOMETHING WITH THE MASTERPIECE OF A CHARACTER THAT YOU HAVE CREATED

The amount of bingos holy moly

Anyway

Keefe means a lot to me

Thanks for the ask anon!

#anon I’m so sorry #you didn’t sign up for this #I just have so many thoughts #keefe sencen #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #ask game #character bingo

[solomons-finest-rum]

Can i have a blurb about a wife!reader x Alfie Solomons where she absolutely loves it when he speaks russian? She just finde it really attractive even though she can't speak it herself and has no idea what he's saying. I'd love it to be fluffy.

"Best Kept Secret" — (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader)

SUMMARY — Before your dear husband went full-on stupid and you two settled in Margate, Alfie kept telling you that one day you would leave him, as you should have long ago. Truth be told, if you had to live one day without him, you’d rather ask Tommy Shelby to off you, too.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hi Nonnie, thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it and if you do, I would really appreciate feedback or a reblog, that would just make my day! ❤️❤️❤️

WORD COUNT — 960

Masterlist

There was a certain duality to your husband. This much was obvious since the day you met.

On the one hand, he was the big bad wolf of Camden Town; the madman among the gangsters, who always stayed two steps ahead of the game and never let on what exactly he was planning next.

On the other, Alfie was a charmer. He talked and people listened; even if, more often than not, his speech was truly intended to charm snakes, rather than people.

But that particular front of a snake charmer was actually how you met, and the reason why Alfie fell for you so fast and so hard was that you never believed in the bullshit. He could have told you the most mundane story, in his most solemn voice, but one twitch in the corner of his lips; one tiny glint in his eye, and you would have known he was lying. Somehow you saw right through him.

When Alfie finally “retired”, or rather used Tommy Shelby as his proxy to retire, you came to realise there was yet another side to your husband that you previously only ever saw a glimpse of. Now that he was “dead”, Alfie let himself be different around you. Not a bad sort of different, though not the expected kind either.

All of a sudden, Alfie started to really share things with you, and how it really felt was that he was finally willing to share himself. Even if you thought he was spreading himself pretty thin between you and his demons.

Those still lurked in there somewhere; creeping up on him whenever you weren’t close enough to keep his mind off of things. That was your specialty, Alfie always said so. To him, your presence was pure magic.

“Yeah, you keep them at bay ‘cause they’re scare of ya, luv. Nah, don’t give me those looks, alright, you’re lookin’ at me like I’m one of them.”

Him and his jokes would honestly be the death of you… Sometimes he asked you whatever ungodly force pushed you to marry him, to which you always said:

“Obviously your stunning looks.”

Which, of course, left him much grumpier than before, and wasn’t that what wives were really for?

He didn’t have to know that you really considered him the most handsome man you have ever met; you really didn’t need him any prouder than he already was.

Before your dear husband went full-on stupid and you two settled in Margate, Alfie kept telling you that one day you would leave him, as you should have long ago, and finally live the calm and happy life he thought you deserved. Truth be told, if you had to live one day without him, you’d rather ask Tommy Shelby to off you, too.

(Alfie did not like that particular repartee one little bit and so you got your way. He stopped suggesting you leave him and somehow that still worked out in his favour—you showered him with affection; even if he said he didn’t really deserve it.)

(Personally, he really didn’t deserve you either.)

Among the things Alfie was now willing to share with you were the tiniest possible glimpses of his childhood. Which was still better than nothing, as before he barely even spoke about it at all. He also revealed how many sisters he had (two) and how many languages he really spoke (six; though the original answer when you first asked him was forty-one).

One thing you never expected was just how different your husband sounded when he spoke to you in his many languages. Yiddish, he often used; usually it meant he was trying to hide something from you. Italian—when he tried to show off and convince you it was really Latin. English, of course, was Alfie’s weapon of choice; stealthy and flexible, really a putty for his oh so capable tongue.

Russian, on the other hand, used to be a rare occurrence in your house, but something that would happen more and more after you two retired to Margate.

“And how’s my favourite witch doing today?” was a thing Alfie often asked you in Russian; though you learned that witches had many more meanings in Russian than the one you came to associate with them in English.

That was the thing Alfie liked to say anyway—that you bewitched him. You put a spell on him when your eyes met for the very first time, of that he was certain. You wouldn’t mind if that was true, of course, but you never thought of yourself as much of a seductress. Alfie did, though. It was something you loved about him the most; he had a way of looking at things from an entirely mad perspective.

In fact, you also realised that was one of the reasons that Alfie liked Russian so much—the duality of it left more to the imagination. It suited his character, though when you asked him before why he never really used Russian much, he always dismissed you.

Until he hadn’t, and you learned the painful story behind it. You stopped asking him then. Even with your husband’s affinity for spinning outrageous tales, some things about his past he still preferred to be left unsaid. So you kept your own endearment a secret. Personally, you found the language beautiful, soft even, and the way Alfie sometimes spoke to you in Russian really sounded like affection to your ears. You decided then that, all in all, every marriage had its secrets. Yours at least was entirely harmless…

Aside from your husband being the most dangerous gangster in London. But that would be the story for another time; another day. For now, you had each other and you would always have Margate.

#alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #alfie solomons fanfiction #peaky blinders reader #peaky blinders x reader #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine

[raccoonfallsharder]

i like to imagine that if one were to give Rocket a sudoku or crosswords puzzle, he can fill them all out at an unbelievable rate. like, you'd introduce him to the concept of sudoku, how each row and each column and each 3×3 grid should have nine distinct and non-repeating numerical digits–

but you haven't finished explaining the rules and Rocket's already filling out the empty boxes with his pencil like ticking off items on a laundry list. not a minute later, it's solved. he then gets confused at your jaw dropping while showing you the filled-out paper puzzle.

"what? you're- you just, fill out the thing with numbers, right? what's so surprising?"

i love this! im sorry i didn’t see this ask sooner but YES. thank you so much for this PERFECT mental image lol. i am actually working on a oneshot that’s not about this EXACTLY but is about rocket’s brain in relation to some of these things lol. the way he sees shit.

sudoku, i think, is easy for him. you explain the rules once and he just looks at the grid and he knows where everything goes. it’s like looking at a bomb or a gun. all the pieces have a home — it only takes one glance with soft eyes to see where each thing fits.

word searches, too. once he knows what a word is supposed to look like, he can take in a box of letters with that same glance and be like — oh, there’s fifteen words. sometimes he finds words that aren’t even intentionally included.

the trick with both these puzzles is that rocket does not get caught up in the sequence of things. he doesn’t go line-by-line or letter-by-letter. he has a more holistic way of understanding things — a big-picture kind of guy. looks at them and says “this is where the thing fits.”

now, crossword puzzles? those i’m less sure of. i think rocket would be the type to be annoyed by “bad clues.” his vocabulistics ain’t always standard, so to speak, and i bet he sometimes makes up words. plus, having to remember how they’re supposed to be spelled? that’s a problem. sometimes the clue will be like “more yellow than blue; a French liqueur” and instead of writing in “chartreuse” rocket is like “greeeeeeen” because why the fuck not, this game is stupid. he finishes in record time but when you look at it, most of the answers are like… only sorta-conceptually-correct? and usually with creative spellings? occasionally he’ll throw in a cluster of letters in kree?

“so i can see you answered this column with crow but you used a character i don’t recognize for the w and it’s overlapping with the g in lasagna. and uhm neither of those are technically right.”

“yeah in shi’ar that letter makes a sound like wuh or guh. little further back in the throat though.”

“uh huh. but this is, uhm, a US-english crossword.”

“so?”

“…good talk.”

now maybe when he’s a little older, and the Star Kids have grown up and have Star Kids of their own, and Old Man Rocket is sitting outside a cantina on Knowhere making origami versions of cosmo for them — maybe in between he pulls out the giant book of puzzles pete sent him for christmas last year. adjusts his reading glasses and strokes a claw over his grizzled whiskers. the kids come up and ask him what he’s working on today and he shows them and teaches them how to do each one.

“this one you can’t repeat any numbers.”

“that seems hard.”

“nah, it’ll be easy for you. you’re almost as much of a genius as me. now, this one you gotta find these words in this graph.”

“okay. i think i like this better. what about that one?”

“ah, i used to hate those ones but now they’re my favorite.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. for these ones, you just make shit up, and you bend all the rules till your answer works.”

#rfh asks #hyperjorts #rocket raccoon headcanons #rfh headcanons #asks are my favorites #rocket raccoon #rfh fluff

[wolfiemcwolferson]

Prompt from the song ‘Honey Whiskey’ by Nothing But Thieves: “i think i better go before I do something I might regret” - Piarles

Mar baby, here we go. I tried to make this work in my brain without some emotional infidelity but it wouldn’t. It’s not between Piarles.

Pierre has never been good at denying himself what he wants.

It’s why he doesn’t drink all that much around people who aren’t afraid to shut him down. Ilies. Ben. His brothers. Yuki.

They aren’t afraid to smack him in the back of the head and tell him to quit.

Charles.

Charles is absolutely not on that list.

Mostly because he’s one of the things that Pierre denies himself.

It’s some kind of long drawn out game that they’ve been playing for years - Pierre doesn’t even know when it started, just that one day he looked up and the only thing he wanted was Charles.

Sometimes it’s an ache in his chest that he soothes with a long run and sometimes it’s a sharp pang that is best dealt with by an anonymous hook-up that Ilies will side-eye him about for two weeks.

Charles dates a pretty girl for a bit and Pierre does too and they sit too close and they touch too long and they arrange outings together when they should absolutely be with their girlfriends.

Pierre doesn’t know what exactly they’re waiting for, just that they’re waiting. Just that there’s something holding Charles back and Pierre has always let Charles lead.

And then Pierre is standing in Charles rented villa in Italy and his girlfriend is asleep on the couch in the living room and Charles is standing inches away from Pierre body in the kitchen.

He’s had too many drinks and Pierre isn’t supposed to be here so he doesn’t have a handler to pull him back from danger which is how his hand has found it’s way to Charles hip.

They’re not speaking - they don’t need to. The house is silent and it’s too warm even in the middle of the night and the glass tumbler that Charles has clutched in one hand is the only thing keeping their chests from being pressed together.

Charles is looking at him, heavy lidded and dark, tongue darting out to the corner of his mouth and Pierre is categorizing every single micro-expression.

He wants.

He wants and they’ve never quite been this close to whatever it is they’ve been doing.

“I should go, Calamar.” Pierre whispers, giving Charles’ hip a squeeze. “Before this goes too far.”

Charles doesn’t move, doesn’t step away, but he does dig the lip of his tumbler into Pierre’s chest. “Is that so?”

Pierre tilts his head to the side, tries to give Charles one of those smirks. “Before I try something I might regret, yeah.”

But it falls flat. It comes out entirely to earnest, and a little desperate.

Pierre sees the moment it lands on Charles and he sobers, stepping back and away.

“I’m sorry,” Charles whispers, flushed and embarrassed and Pierre’s job is to soothe it away, but not tonight.

Tonight, Pierre is tired of waiting and he’s tired of denying himself what he wants, so he doesn’t. He stands there and waits.

“I’m sorry,” Charles says again and he takes another step back, voice hollow.

Pierre knows the expectation now. He goes home and he puts himself back together and then he…he acts like nothing is wrong, and he knows that’s what he’s expected to do, but he’s tired of it and so he says it.

“You know what, Cha? You come find me when you’re ready.” His voice doesn’t shake and he isn’t angry, but he does sound tired and hurt.

And then he does the hardest thing he’s ever had to do with Charles, he walks away.

He leans in and he kisses his cheek and he leaves him standing there in the kitchen, tumbler still in his hand, girlfriend asleep on the couch, in his big rented villa in Italy.

Pierre has to call a car since he didn’t bring a babysitter and he didn’t do it inside and so he’s standing outside, sweating through his stupid shirt and trying not to cry when the door behind him cracks open and he twists to find Charles there, slipping out into the night.

Pierre was kind inside, but he’s about to stop being kind, and maybe Charles can feel that because he doesn’t come any closer than right outside the door.

“Pierre,” Charles voice is soft. “I’ll come find you soon.”

“Okay, Cha.” Pierre says.

“Soon.” Charles says again and slips back inside the house and Pierre chooses to believe just that.

#Piarles #hopeful ending??? #yeah #you know I give them a happy ending

[kmhnsecretexchange]

Title: you can (we will) be better

Author: dedfish on AO3 

For: logicdive (twitter) Pairings/Characters: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito 

Rating/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Prompt: Post-Game — I feel like DR3’s ending for the cast of SDR2 is really underutilized, so it would be cool to see something going off of that! What’s it like having all these personalities crammed into a boat together to float around the ocean for the foreseeable future? It’s gotta get tense sometimes. How’s the sleeping situation? There can’t possibly be that much room in there, so maybe Hajime and Nagito are… roommates?  Do they ever get off of that boat, and what kind of problems do they face with most of the world still thinking that they’re Remnants of Despair? Ships can be pretty dangerous places too, I can definitely imagine something going wrong… Lots of opportunity for hurt/comfort and relationship growth!

Author’s notes: this fic is set right after dr3’s anime, as dr2 cast+mitarai(i cant remember lore anymore) set out to sea!

i hope you all enjoy this fic! and logicdive i hope you like it too!!! (ahhhh sorry for the late post, i am still paranoid about the quality)

enjoy the fic :DD!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52595074

The scent of the sea breeze was sharp and unforgiving against Hajime’s nose. When they made the Ultimate Hope, they didn’t exactly take any considerations for their new Izuru’s comfort, expecting a machine of pure talent. Expecting Izuru.

It wasn’t like any of those scientists had gotten their own payback in the Tragedy, and grudges weren’t meant for those already long dead—long gone to whatever hell they belonged. But his sharp senses—the feeling of coolness untouched by the pollution of the Despairs against the morning’s sun—was wonderful, for a short second. And then he turned around.

Teru had managed to convince the crew to haul out a grill on deck, of all things. The plans for a celebratory barbecue were obviously in the works, fondness escaped through a small smile, but for a second, he wished it wasn’t there, the smoke annoying.

What was he thinking? He was glad that his friends could even celebrate in the first place. Their weary smiles—all of them except… Chiaki—were worth it. Even if the scent was truly awful, fat sizzling with greasy coals.

Nagito’ s presence swished into being a couple feet away, and Hajime waited until his footsteps echoed closer, before he turned around slowly.

His hair—it truly looked like clouds—bobbed along with a muted, yet not any less, cheerful smile. Happiness suited him, and Hajime let a smile out in response, waving a little.

“A toast, Hajime?” He asked, nodding to the drinks beside him. But they were—

“Cider?” Hajime leaned forward, the apples and cinnamon delicious on the wind, a relief.

Nagito let his grin fall into a half-quirk of a small smile, “Of course. How lucky I guessed a drink you would like, huh?”

Hajime couldn’t think of anything to say besides a grateful, quick thanks, and gladly took it from his hands. The mechanical one whirred, almost soundlessly, as Hajime brushed against cold metal. Nagito noticed his look, and he sighed.

“Is it truly that unsightly, Hajime?” He questioned, leaning against the ship’s railing. His coat clinked against the metal.

“No, no, it’s great—I was just wondering if we need to do maintenance—” Hajime quickly tried to backtrack, feeling his ears go bright red. Hajime of all people, making others self-conscious—

“Haha, I’m just joking,” Nagito smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and he tilted his head against the sunrise, “but there you are.”

“Ah… that’s good,” the unspoken question hanging in the air between them. Hajime wondered if he asked, would it be too awkward?

“I was worried about you standing on the sidelines,” Nagito answered, surprisingly intuitive, “because, you know, you did great. And whenever Izuru used to be… bored, he looked like you.” He met Hajime’s eyes, before looking away.

“Thank you, Nagito. Really.” His denial hung at the end of sentence, but it would be a lie if he really didn’t just feel like an outsider. Just sometimes. “How much do you remember of… us? Me.”

“Enough.” He raised the glass to his lips, the light catching against crystals, and Hajime looked away. Hajime caught a sly smirk from the corner of his eye, and suspiciously glanced over, “I can, from what I remember—the hope inside of both of you, truly—it was fantastically—”

“Not again! Jeez, man. That came out of nowhere.” Hajime groaned, thunking his forehead against the railing, exasperatedly fond. He didn’t predict that today.

A chuckle rang out, low-toned but clear, besides him. Hajime tilted his head up, and watched the weak, golden sunlight play across his half-smiling, crescented seaglass eyes.

Beautiful. Wait, no, not like that! He firmly planted his face in his arms, determinedly ignoring his traitorous thoughts.

“I hope to surprise, Hajime,” Nagito’s elbow brushed against his. The ship slowly rocked against a wave, the sea’s spray crushingly loud. They had long sailed, and the journey away from the Foundation’s base had already been charted.

The silence was… nice.

And if Hajime could crystallize this moment—Ibuki’s laughter and Hiyoko’s dancing and Kazuichi’s whines and Sonia’s scolding with Tanaka’s musings for Imposter’s worry mixing into Mitarai’s giggles, Nagito’s contentment—it would be perfect.

He hoped this would be his future.

—

If Hajime had raised his head, or just looked up, he would see Nagito’s wistful tenderness, looking down on him.

He would see the slight, soft smile—but no, not yet. That was for the future too.

—

“Um, hey guys,” Hajime winced at how unsure he even sounded, “you… feeling good?” He glanced around the banquet table, attempting to plaster on confidence.

Everyone stared back at him. Hiyoko snorted, slapping Mikan’s shoulder.

“Are we a kindergarten class, you moron?” she grinned, lifting up an eyebrow.

“I certainly hope not,” Imposter whispered, barely audible. Mitarai weakly grinned and patted his shoulder.

“Ibuki feels amazing! This is a rocking boat!” Ibuki smiled, chin on her hands.

“Um… ah… yes? I agree?” Mikan uncertainly chimed in, still confused, with Hiyoko rolling her eyes.

Hajime sighed, smiling. He leaned back against the wall, and forcibly told himself to relax.

“Your complaints are noted, guys.” He briefly noticed Nagito’s white, fluffy hair from the corner of his eyes. Relax, Hajime, relax. You’re an Ultimate. “So, with the Future Foundation, we need to decide our next steps together. The way I see it, we can essentially go through with two options: Jabberwock… or back to Japan. Mixing both would be difficult, but also possible. I want all of our opinions to count.”

“Going back? But… we released that video… I mean, do I count? As part of you guys?” Mitarai asked, bags under his eyes seemingly deepening even further.

“We discussed this, commoner. Yes,” Imposter switched back to Byakuya, “you count as part of our class.”

“Yeah,” Haijime nodded, “you definitely count. The best way for us to figure this out is by discussion, but I think holding a vote would be helpful. Sonia, any suggestions?”

“Why, indeed! I think democracy is a novel idea that I certainly would love to experience!” Sonia’s eyes lit up enthusiastically, her smile beaming. However, her expression turned serious quickly. “Hajime, we should decide later, as we all, especially you, deserve rest.”

“Ha, yeah. I’ll… I mean, I think we had a good day today.” Hajime replied, a little sheepishly.

“And we’re back on a ship again!” Ibuki cheered, pumping up her hands. Chaos immediately descended, everyone’s chatter excited.

“How shall we decide on rooms?”

“Heh, how devilish. My Dark Devas and I desire to room with Sonia herself.”

“Huh? No way! We can room with the opposite gender? I refuse.”

“I AM FINE WITH WHOEVER! BAHAHAHA!”

“He’s gonna clog up our toilet again… anybody but him!”

They were kindergarteners.

“Guys,” Hajime sighed, “everyone can room with whomever they want. Not my business, but both parties have to approve. And first come, first serve for rooms.”

“Hajime… soul bro! I understand, I won’t let this chance slip by!” Kazuichi’s tears were a little excessive, but he marched off towards Sonia, obviously shooting to get a room with her.

The ruckus in the room reached new heights of noise, as everyone started pairing up. Hajime watched Tanaka and Kazuichi start arguing, and suddenly, he felt very, very tired. He slid down into a chair and felt a soft tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, you were pretty quiet today too,” Hajime cracked a small, sincere smile. Nagito rolled his eyes.

“I spared everyone the torture today.”

“No, we like hearing you talk.”

“We? I’m not sure if that’s true. Mahiru holds grudges, from what I remember, and I’m sure Fuyuhiko believes me to be strange. Oh—Teru can hate me, though.”

“Even so, that doesn’t mean we want you to shut up. They… changed, they don’t hate you,” because that would mean they would hate themselves for their actions too. “You can trust me when I say you should talk to them too. They’re pretty awesome.”

“Aha… I know. But you’re very kind,” Nagito responded quietly, “and… do you have a roommate yet?” Hajime looked up, opening his mouth to respond—

“Soul bro… you wanna room? Tanaka, that prick…” Kazuichi grumbled, dropping down next to him with a sigh. He looked incredibly disappointed. Hajime could guess what had happened.

“Kazuichi, I think I already have—”

Kazuichi’s eyes opened wide, jumping back and forth between Nagito’s hand and Hajime’s shoulder. A slow smile crept across his face.

“Oh. Ohhhh, I see, finally—not bad, Hajime, heh. I want you to know I support you.”

“I—what did I do? Finally?” He asked, confused. He turned to Nagito, who seemed equally as confused, judging by the furrow between the eyebrows. Kazuichi looked both elated and resolved, and about to burst into tears at any moment now.

“You don’t need to say anything, bro. You’ve got this—a bit of a… unique guy, but I can see it! Congratulations to you too, Nagito!” Kazuichi laughed, clapping them both on the back.

He turned to leave, but not before he turned to Hajime, mumbling, “And… Hajime? Erm, I’m glad you two figured it out—I was so oblivious…” Hajime just blinked, confused, “Of course, he wasn’t even interested… the girls’ swimsuits…”

He trailed off, sounding disgruntled even as he passed Hajime’s hearing range. Hajime didn’t know what to think, really.

Was there some miscommunication? It didn’t seem harmful, though, so that was excusable.

“Hajime, what just happened to him? He was weirder than usual.” Nagito’s expression twitched into an automatic smile, before falling into bewilderment. He grimaced, before he opened his eyes wide, turning ever-so-slightly pink. “Hm.”

Now, even Nagito? He was definitely missing something.

“No idea, honestly,” he stared after Kazuichi, watching him as he jerkily scooted near Nekomaru’s booming laughter.

“Then, well, would you still like to room, Hajime? I understand if I make you uncomfortable—of course, you might want to be with someone else, perhaps—I don’t want to make you do something out of obligation—”

“Of course, I want to.” Those words felt unexpectedly genuine, in a way that Hajime had difficulty adjusting to. Taking a deep breath, Hajime held out his hand. “Luggage? I don’t know where you kept yours.”

“Mm, it’s on deck. I can get it.” The breeze picked up, swirling the slight saltiness of the sea past him.

“No, please, don’t bother, Nagito. I haven’t had the time to adjust your hand yet—or do any maintenance checks for heavy weights—”

The sudden, bright burst of laughter that followed was beautiful, and it took his attention way too fast. Concerningly, it made him go blank for a second—like he was reacting, instead of knowing what and when and why and all possible escape routes and who was doing what and the Ultimates and he was the Ultimate.

It was… nice.

Nagito grinned, a small but genuine peek of joy, “Thank you, Hajime. We can do that after I get my stuff, okay? Don’t worry, Mr. Leader of Despair.”

“You…ugh… lovebirds! Get a goddamn room!” Fuyuhiko screamed, startling Hajime to attention. Had everyone else heard that?

Nagito went a bright red, like he was sunburned for a moment, before—

“Says you, baby gangster. Peko, he totallyyyy ruined the moment,” Hiyoko complained, poking Peko’s arm.

“I agree. I will remove him from this scene to let… that continue. Master? Let’s pick out our room, instead.” Fuyuhiko grumbled, but ultimately went off with Peko without another glance.

Hajime awkwardly scooted off to the side, feeling a bit embarrassed himself. He was not paying attention at all.

“Nagito?”

“Hm?” His face was still a little red, but it had settled into the impassivity he had held before. That face… was…

Maybe it was best if they left. Everyone seemed wrapped up in their own choices, and it wasn’t like they were malicious, anyways.

He looked around, and no one was appearing to pay attention anyways, wrapped up in their own laughter watching Peko drag Fuyuhiko across the deck.

“Can we leave? Please?”

“Of course. Let’s do that—come on,” Nagito muttered, pulling on his arm in an uncharacteristic show of force. Hajime let himself be dragged to the open door, the wide sea still glinting blue.

He could resist. No one could beat him with his extraordinary talents. They were good enough to pull him away, to stop, to put some distance.

The Nagito in front of him was far, far better, though. Hajime followed, feeling his voice swept past him from the ocean’s winds.

—

“This place is nice,” Nagito smiled, tracing patterns on the mattresses.

The room was actually quite nice—cruise-worthy for sure, and definitely a good holdover until they decided where they would go. A thin breeze fluttered between the door, ruffling Nagito’s hair slightly. He averted his eyes; the feeling in his chest didn’t feel friendly, but not angry, either.

“I know, the Foundation gave us a good one.”

“Mhm.” Nagito bent down over the bunks, curiously leaning over the edges.

“Find anything?”

“Nope, haha, but it looks like they definitely need an Ultimate House—sorry, Janitor here. Ah,” Nagito winced and so did Hajime. Should he say something? He was the de facto leader after all, he should such address emotional vulnerability—

“You know, it’s totally fine to talk about her. She was… our—your teacher.” Hajime stared at the floor, but lifted up his gaze to Nagito’s pause.

“Then, if you don’t mind hearing, Ms. Chisa… I thought she came out safe. All those years ago, with the Foundation, once she left us,” Nagito slowly said, turning around.

“I knew you guys liked her a lot, right?” Haijime asked, feeling himself mechanically go through the motions of unpacking. He turned away; somehow, it was easier to ask when they didn’t have to address anything they said, without facial expressions that Hajime couldn’t control well.

“She brought us together,” a shuffling sound echoed through the room, “when no one else could. In part, she’s the reason—the reason why the good of us is here today. She made us into a real class.”

A seagull screeched in the distance, interrupting Hajime’s train of thought. He spoke almost automatically.

“I see. That’s completely valid, but,” And then, as a quick afterthought, “None of you guys did anything. She… the real one you guys knew… probably died in the Tragedy.”

“Yeah. We did a lot of dying.” Nagito forced out a short, painful laugh, and Haijime smoothed out a corner of his bedsheets, gathering his thoughts.

“You don’t get to say that… with us around. Either way, on the island or with the Future Foundation, we’ll make it up for the rest of our lives.” He watched as a sliver of moonlight fell onto his hands.

At least his hands were unscarred. Nagito’s soft noise of agreement rocked them into the quiet of the cruise.

“You want to go on a walk later, Hajime?”

In response, his heart almost jumped to his throat, and he felt unexpectedly flustered. What was wrong with a simple question, it didn’t mean anything besides an offer of spending time together. They walked plenty on the island, why this reaction now?

Still panicking, he replied hastily, “Tomorrow, maybe? I’m, uh, feeling sleepy. We did a lot today.” He internally face-palmed and whirled around to… stare at nothing.

“Of course. I’ll explore the ship tonight, ” Nagito patted his shoulder, almost nonchalantly, and raised an eyebrow at his stutter, but left it alone. “Goodnight, Hajime.”

“Goodnight, I guess,” Hajime called behind him, hopefully casual. He stared after him, as Nagito brushed past the door.

What was wrong with him?

—

He doesn’t sleep at all.

And for Nagito? He slips into the room at approximately whatever-o-clock, quietly rustles for a couple minutes, and doesn’t sleep either, judging from constant turning.

They stay awake, until Nagito falls asleep an hour later. Hajime doesn’t.

—

Hajime stared at the ceiling. Was he supposed to get up now? It was already morning—the windows told him that much.

He wasn’t sleepy, though. It didn’t feel close to his limit at all—according to Izuru’s memories, there wasn’t exactly a hard limit to the amount of sleep the Ultimate Hope needed.

Subhuman, huh.

Nagito rustled underneath his covers, quietly moving. He was probably awake by now too.

“You awake?” Hajime quietly whispered. If he was truly asleep, Hajime had regulated his volume to not wake him up, hopefully. Nagito huffed quietly, and he turned around, smiling.

His hair was even fluffier than usual, spread out upon the sheets, and haloing his bright, green eyes.

“Nah, of course I’m not awake. But hey, Hajime. You look… tired.” Nagito’s contented expression waned slowly, as he scanned his face.

“I didn’t get to sleep much.” Hajime smiled sheepishly, sitting up and running his hand back through his hair. “I did get some sleep though.”

“Whatever the Ultimate Ultimate says.” He shrugged, seemingly relaxed. “If you’re not too sleep-deprived, how’re you thinking of a short walk? I heard it’s good for you.”

“The Ultimate Nurse, Pediatrician, and Psychologist certainly seem to think so,” Hajime smiled, gesturing out to the hallway, part of him aching to those words.

The hallway’s carpet muffled their steps, making everything that much quieter in the face of dawn. A new day.

“Do you have anywhere in particular you’d like to see? Future Foundation spared no expense on whatever cruise ship this used to be.” Nagito’s hair bobbed along every step they took, almost beige in the lamplights.

“Not particularly. I can guess how most designers would want anything.” His footsteps were always quiet anyways. He tried to deliberately make them louder, to match Nagito’s. “One thing I learned from all this is,” Nagito smiled, turning to face Hajime, “never say you know everything about anything.” His shoulders bumped against his, and Hajime narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Mhm, sure, All-Wise-And-Knowledgeable.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Nagito’s hand seemed only a whisper away and Hajime almost wanted to reach out, “but whatever floats your boat.”

“You dork.”

“The trashiest dork.” The weak sunlight brought a rose-gold tint upon everything and—well, everyone. The entire cruise ship seemed much more peaceful and calm, and Hajime could see why people got up early. On purpose, though, ugh.

“I believe that.” He joked. Hajime glanced down over the railing, watching the murky, deep blue waters. It reflected the ship’s paleness, and it was nice, too. Maybe. It looked scary, though.

“Come on,” Nagito motioned over to a glass door, “we aren’t going to brood near the sea today.”

“Aw, no,” Hajime rolled his eyes fondly, but he followed along anyway, “brooding, my favorite activity.” And, “Where are you taking me?” Hajime questioned slowly, watching the green coat bob from side to side.

Did he have a million of those? How did he manage to keep all his coats from Jabberwock?

“Well, as a part-time Ultimate, I found a pretty cool spot when I looked around last night,” Nagito turned into a smaller, more dim hallway, “and it really was quite, ha—lucky ultimately. And hopeful.”

Finally, he stopped suddenly at a simple, wooden door, where Hajime might’ve crashed into him, if he hadn’t had experience with Nagito leading him around anyways. He still almost tripped, though.

“You could be an Ultimate Joker too, with that,” Hajime groaned, slapping his forehead. How did he get stuck on a ship with this guy?

Well—rhetorical question.

“What?” Nagito frowned, opening the door. “I found it quite funny in my head.” He looked so disappointed, Hajime almost felt bad—key word, almost. But—ugh.

“It was super, erm, creative, though? I… don’t really know what else to say about it though, it just falls… sort of flat.” Hajime tried, okay.

This was exactly why he left the compliment business to literally anyone else.

“And—ow, wait, why did you stop?” Hajime grumbled, rubbing his forehead. Nagito’s hair was surprisingly fluffy.

Kinda cute.

No, no, stop this, no—not right now. He was not having those thoughts right now.

“Because we’re here, of course!” Nagito steered him to his side, happily staring around him. “I call it the Cruise of the Tough, Traumatized Ultimates: There’s a Garden!”

Real trees—a scattering of bonsai, with lavender circling around what was evidently an artificial spring of water—that were fashioned to look like an artificial garden, flowing around pebbles and drapes of flowering vines.

They stood on marble, a paved walkway winding around the sauna, with overgrown lavender and mosses peeking out between the cobblestones. In this world—in this time, it was almost untouched by the outside world.

It hadn’t been torn down by Despair, or tainted by it. A luxury even Jabberwock couldn’t count as.

…but it was tainted by a bit too much algae, judging from the thin green film across some of it. And also, what was that name Nagito just said?

“What the heck did you just call this?” Hajime blinked once. Before blinking again. He definitely heard that right.

“Hm? You mean there’s a garden? …I called it a garden.”

“With a couple other words, I think. But… I mean, thanks for showing me this. Pretty good luck, I’d say.” Hajime’s cheeks hurt. When had he broken into such a huge smile?

Nagito beamed widely, before nudging Hajime’s side. “My present for you! You’ve seemed down lately.”

“…ah. I can’t argue against that, but I thought—with the ship being down for so long, any plants would’ve been cleared out for Foundation preservation.” Hajime walked closer towards the lavender, poking it. It shook slightly.

“I thought so,” Nagito’s agreement echoed slightly. “Luckily, they missed a spot.”

The quiet peace of the impromptu visit was nice, broken only by the occasional gurgling of the spring’s waterways. It was probably clogged as hell, Hajime considered it a miracle the seawater was still being recycled back and forth, in whatever system the ship used to use for first-class passenger entertainment. Maybe he could clean it—he might as well, with all the free time they would have. With either decision.

The lavender’s buds brushed against his hands, and Nagito’s shoulders visibly relaxed. His shoulder bumped against Hajime’s, as he leaned against him. It strangely did feel casual—nice, although Hajime did notice his heartbeat speed up.

Ever so slightly, but still.

“Really, I’m glad you showed me this… Nagito. I’m happy to see this, honestly—especially since you found this place on our cruise ship?”

“Yes, of course. And what are best friends for?” Hajime stared up at Nagito, shocked. Best friends?

“We’re best friends… yeah. Uh, yeah,” Hajime felt like he was back in those earlier days before the game, stuttering and bright-faced in the face of Nagito’s friendship, “But how can I even beat this? This is… amazing.” Hajime felt like he was violently going to explode from… embarrassment, was that it?

“You don’t need to compete with me for something we both share, Hajime,” Nagito’s eyes were bright and knowing with… something, “And I just wanted to give you a place I knew to relax, sometimes. Especially with everyone deciding between Jabberwork and—”

Nagito was probably going to be the strangest best friend he had ever had. Kind of the most insane one he’d ever known, but hey. He wasn’t much better.

And—he had wanted to ask Nagito something else as well.

“Well,” Hajime rolled his eyes and turned towards Nagito, “Do yourself a favor and take breaks with me too. You hypocrite—I have no idea what thoughts go on up there.”

“Says you, leader. And kind of the whole reason we’re all alive in one—haha, mostly—hopeful piece.” He joked. Nagito elbowed him slightly, the only tell for his humor in his slight, barely noticeable smirk.

“I can’t take all the credit, you know that. What you did in the game—” Hajime tried to clarify, noticing Nagito’s expression cool.

“—what I did in the game was not… hope—argh. You know that.” Nagito’s cheer turned more strained, as he noticeably stiffened. Tension snapped into place, the atmosphere growing cold.

“I know. I’m not making excuses. I know you did terrible things, and I’m electing to also consider what good you did do,” Hajime replied, feeling slightly… angry. He didn’t want him talking about himself like that. Nagito’s arm whirred beside him as he stood up—the lavender crunched underneath him.

“I can’t do this right now, Hajime,” Nagito murmured. Tiredness overshadowed his posture, his expression cold and… terrified. “I’ll call it an early night. I’ll see you later.”

His footsteps sounded all the way to the door, before it screeched open. Nagito paused for a second, before he continued into the hallway. The footsteps disappeared then, too.

“I’ll… see you, too,” Hajime told nothingness. The door swung shut, creaking back awkwardly.

“I just… I wanted to make him feel better, at least. And, it’s not like I’m wrong—ugh, why am I like this…” Hajime buried his head in his hands, closing his eyes.

Everything just felt off. Wrong. Or maybe he was the one who was weird, instead. What was even wrong with him?

First, the isolation he felt from everyone else—that was understandable, things changed after he split with Izuru. His emotions—they kept on malfunctioning at unrelated situations. Now, his ability to even talk with his friends?

“What’s even going on?” He groaned. He raised up his head, squinting at the lavender.

The lavender rustled back, like that was supposed to be an answer.

“And why the hell am I talking to a plant!”

—

“Well, um… I don’t think you’re compromised by puberty or anything else physically? And, um, mentally, you’re still the same from our previous check-ups—I can ask for an evaluation by a psychiatrist from the Foundation. You—you probably don’t have anything wrong, still?” Mikan half-questioned, half-commanded. She flipped through his records on a clipboard, looking uncharacteristically serious.

She then looked back up. “W-What do you think you’re struggling with, Hajime?”

“I get like these… palpitations. I also get… emotional at weird times? I normally don’t feel much of anything, though,” Hajime responded, staring at his hands. He squinted at his shoes—they kinda looked dirty. And the clock was ticking. And what was this weird therapy roleplay?

Mikan blinked, slightly incredulous. “I… You’re supposed to feel emotions, n—normally. But, of course, Izuru—I would consider that as a good sign, that you’re feeling that. That you’re feeling, at least. More concerningly, moving on… when do you get these palpitations?”

Hajime sighed, slamming his head down on the table. It barely hurt. “Okay, that part’s fine—but for the interruptions, I have no idea! It just happens whenever. And I don’t think there’s a physical factor to that.”

“I read about this kind of situation! Ahaha… um… is it around… a certain guy? Maybe?” Mikan looked side to side, before leaning in. “Perhaps… Nagito?” She blushed violently, visibly excited. Was she really that interested?

“No… wait, maybe yes. It could be the feelings of friendship? But I don’t feel it around Kazuichi, or anyone else.”

Mikan blankly stared at him, before she slapped her forehead. “O—Of course. Of course, it’s and then they were roommates here. I’m literally—get out.” Her expression turned dark, almost angry, shadows looming over her eyes. She suddenly looked very much like an Ultimate Nurse… and ha… he felt like he was in danger.

“What do you mean? Get out? Wait, but you didn’t tell me why—”

“Go and talk to your best friend, Hajime. I s—swear, jeez,” Mikan rolled her eyes, looking less uncertain, “So that was the i—issue.”

“Mikan… your sarcasm, I don’t really get it—” Hajime raised his hands, flinching back from her annoyance.

“Then you don’t deserve to get it, I’m s—surrounded by the dumbest Ultimates ever.” She slammed her clipboard down on the desk, shaking in anger. “And talk to him! You adorab—agh, idiots.”

“But he got angry at me? I tried to talk about his actions in the game, and he kinda just left? I don’t know what happened!” Hajime, flustered, tried to ask. He needed to figure out what to do to fix this.

“O—oh, see now, that’s important. But still—go find him! Komaeda always likes to talk with you, and he’ll understand if you honestly just talk about it. Kids, I swear,” Mikan grumbled, before straightening up with an almost manic energy. She started shoving Hajime to the door, smiling menacingly behind him.

Shocked, Hajime could only follow along, before remembering, “And—wait! I’m bad at this stuff, what do I—”

And the door shut right in front of him. He sighed, as Mikan’s giggling faded with her retreat into her and Hiyoko’s room.

“Everyone’s insane, why did I even try.” Hajime groaned, trudging through the hallways. Time… to find Nagito. —

“Hey, Nagito? You okay to talk?” Hajime asked, slowly approaching Nagito on the ship’s deck. The evening’s sun flitted briefly over the clouds, before hiding behind the clouds again. He looked… lonely.

No better time than the present to get it over with.

“I am, of course. I would like to first apologize—” He started.

“I’m really sorry—”

“Oh.”

“Ah… yeah, both of us, I guess. But truthfully, you did nothing wrong, you… meant to say it from a sincere perspective. I reacted strangely… I just needed space.”

“I still brought up something you were uncomfortable with. And the game is a sore spot for all of us—I don’t blame you either, Nagito.” Hajime sheepishly smiled, rubbing the back of his head.

Nagito flashed a small smile in response, before falling back into seriousness yet again, “Still. I think we can both accept each other’s apologies?”

“Of course, yeah. Mikan literally pushed me out of her room—it was funny. ” Hajime grinned, before throwing an arm around his shoulder.

Nagito stiffened visibly, before asking, “And why—why were you in her room?”

“To ask her how to apologize to you. She was kinda weird though.”

“A—Ah, of course.” Nagito turned a slight shade of pink, looking slightly embarrassed. “I have no idea what got into me.”

“Um, yeah. Don’t worry—a common misunderstanding—you’re still definitely my best friend.” Hajime clapped his shoulder, grinning at him. Jeez, Nagito did overthink sometimes.

“Ah—yeah, best friends.” Nagito smirked, raising his eyes to the sky. “Best of friends. I’m fine with that for now.” He meaningfully looked back at Hajime, but what was that… undertone?

“I’m glad, honestly. You are. But also… I wanted to ask about you wanted to do? As well?” Hajime continued, trying to not read too much into that. Was it just him… or was that kind of… nah. Probably not, ha!

“Go ahead. Is this about where we’d head from here? For Jabberwock or back to Japan?”

“Oh, yeah. I think we’re going to meet up for it tomorrow… I just wanted to hear what you thought first.” Nagito nodded, seemingly deep in thought.

“Well, I’m for Jabberwock… actually. I don’t think what we did can ever be… redeemed. Or forgiven. And I don’t want to lose all of the class again so soon. Is it surprising?” Nagito smiled, looking down to the waves crashing against the ship. “You might’ve expected more from me—I do want consequences, but not at the cost of our lives.”

“That’s… I’m glad to hear that. It was honest.” Hajime murmured, lost in thought. He glanced at Nagito’s regretful smile. “But I was thinking about Jabberwock—and it might not be such a great idea after all.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“We’re only alive because of the Foundation’s grace—from the killing game we saw happening, it’s obvious the Foundation’s still unstable.” Hajime winced at the thought of Mitarai and the board member’s plan. “We owe them a lot, and hiding in Jabberwock while the world thinks we masterminded it all… it’s a good short-term plan, but it won’t last. Just like how we can’t blame Junko for everything we did, we can’t be blamed for everything the Foundation did.”

He looked out into the sea, watching as a seagull swooped on the horizon.

“It all gets out eventually.”

Nagito nodded approvingly, shifting towards Hajime. He let out a quiet breath of laughter, before glancing up.

“I see… you’re not wrong. I wouldn’t want the Foundation’s masterminds to escape infamy so easily either—but you propose we… go back to Japan? We will most likely get killed.”

“That’s my struggle as well. I don’t know how I can lead the class on this.” Hajime sighed.

Nagito’s eyes lit up, suddenly. He excitedly whirled around, “Not if we wait. Not if we let the world rebuild itself first. Why did we think we had two options in the first place? Since when did we let those options choose our lives?”

“That is… true. I had only thought that because…”

“Exactly, because we thought we were faced with either being cowards or getting sent to our deaths. But that’s not the case—the Foundation can bring us back from Jabberwock whenever we want.”

“Wait—yeah! If we take credit for the Foundation’s killing game for now…”

“… We can simply expose the truth of the incident later. We’ll face consequences, rightfully, for what we did do. And not only that—we’ll share what happened to us—how Junko messed us up.”

“We can’t let the world think those in despair were responsible for their actions… the brainwashing… What Hope’s Peak did ensure is that we should never have a Hope’s Peak again, but the Foundation didn’t learn from that because they refused to learn—they refused to look away from talents as the ultimate source of all Hope.”

“Especially what they did to you. And to Izuru. Talent shouldn’t ever be made like that again—and the public should know that. Hajime, what they did to you sucked.” Nagito scoffed, placing his hands on the railing.

Hajime laughed, feeling freer the first time in days. He threw his arms around Nagito in their first, real hug, and his ridiculously fluffy hair tickled his nose. Nagito was so, so warm, and this was awesome—why didn’t they hug before? Nagito let out a small, choked noise, before hugging back, gently.

“You’re amazing, Nagito.” Hajime replied, muffled in Nagito’s hair. He let himself enjoy the warmth a little longer, before raising his eyes up to meet Nagito’s.

“… And so are you,” Nagito whispered, his expression peaceful, if not a bit flushed again. Was it the wind?

“Ah, we should probably get inside. But c’mon, let’s find everyone—we got to do something.”

“I-I thought this meeting was tomorrow?”

“Well, now, it’s not.” Hajime let go… a bit regretfully. He would’ve hugged longer, but Nagito was starting to look concerningly red. “Let’s round up everyone from their rooms—I’ll take whoever I find back down into the banquet hall.”

“… Were you also referring to, uh, me?” Nagito looked confused, concerned, strangely flushed, and somehow determined at the same time, before awkwardly pointing to himself.

Sorta cute. Erm, nope, not thinking about it, not thinking about it—

“Yeah, of course.” Hajime agreed, before gently elbowing him. “Who else?”

Nagito gasped, before spinning around, with a new fire of determination within his eyes. He immediately started walking inside, grabbing Hajime’s wrist. Hajime flailed around for a second, shocked.

“Wait—wait, uh, not that fast. You don’t need to rush?” Hajime questioned, still allowing himself to be pulled along for some—no reason.

“I’ll grab anyone I see. Let’s do this. Now.” Nagito was unusually fast now, almost running.

Hajime… felt like he excited him a bit too much, with those words maybe? He sighed, still half-smiling.

“Alright—but jeez… fine. Let me go, I’ll get to the left side.”

“I’ll do the right. Prepare to be amazed by my speed.” Nagito grinned threateningly, before turning around the corner. He let go of his hand, waving goodbye and almost immediately disappearing into the hallway.

Hajime groaned. This guy, seriously…?

… He was the dorkiest dork he had ever seen.

The best one, though. Not that thought, again? Was this puberty or something?

—

The banquet door slammed shut, and with that, Hajime had an entire class of slightly startled, disgruntled, oblivious, or surprised Ultimates. Except for Peko and Fuyuhiko. Hajime had no illusions as to whether anyone could drag them to wherever the pair didn’t want to be.

“Alright, guys. Sorry for the sudden meeting.”

“—Yeah, it was sudden, alright.” Akane grumbled. “Is there any food here? I’m hungry.”

“Oh, yes, here Akane! Would you like to try my—” Teru grinned, before reaching into his pockets.

“Nah. Pass.” She instantly declined. Hajime pointedly stared at the both of them, before slapping his forehead. These kindergarteners.

“—But, Nagito and I had a bit of a revelation regarding the cruise ship’s destination. For Jabberwock, or for going back to Japan. We wanted to ask you guys what you thought about it.

“… I see this couldn’t have waited?”

“Not really… but, I do apologize for getting you guys out here so late.” Nagito chimed in, looking relatively… unapologetic.

“It was perfectly fine! Most of us were just goofing around anyways… I speak for both myself and Mahiru…” Sonia replied, perfectly composed and kind.

“I was just playing pool…”

“I FINISHED TAKING A SHIT.”

“Hajime… just kinda interrupted Imposter and my, uh, anime. It’s okay! This sounds… more important.” Mitarai muttered, looking faintly anxious. Scratch that, very anxious, judging by how much fidgeting he was doing.

“Indeed, commoner. Now—let Hajime and Nagito speak. What do you two propose?” Byakuya-Imposter questioned, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, to put it simply,” Hajime looked around the room, making eye contact with each of his friends, “We don’t have to choose Jabberwock. Or the Foundation and Japan. Because, there’s a third option—to do both.”

“That would be ideal… indeed. But how?” Sonia questioned, raising herself from her chair.

Nagito nodded, raising a hand to his chin, “We can do so by splitting our time—to go back to Jabberwock now, and to go back to support the rebuilding of the world later on.”

“But—we should just return to Japan fully. If we truly want to support our victims—”

“Princess, that is not allowable by this dark one,” Tanaka turned towards Sonia, raising his eyebrow, “Seeing as that would result in our unfortunate demise, as my visions of the future warn.”

“Tanaka—I understand but, what we did, what I did to my people—” Sonia whispered, obviously heartbroken.

“No one’s dying today. None of us will be sacrificed.” Hajime interrupted, urgently stopping her from turning towards obvious shame, “Because we’ll go to Jabberwock to outwait just that. To let the Foundation stabilize the world, to prevent any further uprisings of Despair right now.”

“And,” Nagito smoothly joined in, “We will still allow the Foundation to take responsibility later. We’ll face our consequences—with the actual good we’ll be able to do, once we’re allowed into the rebuilding of Japan.”

“You’re just going to allow the Foundation to recover then? And then come back? But wouldn’t that undo everything—everything we did that video for?” Mahiru asked, quietly motioning to them all.

“That will undo it,” Peko seriously replied, “But that might be for the best. I do not wish for Fuyuhiko to be viewed as a monster… for that too.” She glanced towards Hajime meaningfully, then stared at Nagito, before she looked away.

Hajime… understood that feeling now. Not wanting someone to be deemed guilty—in reality too.

“I think it’s a great plan, as it lets us not be killed! Or run away, right, Coach?” Akane shouted excitedly. Nekomaru laughed, a booming sort of laughter that shook the room.

“INDEED! HAHA, WE CAN LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY!”

“But what if… we get sentenced to death anyways? After we rebuild the world… and we come back.” Ibuki quietly spoke up, uncharacteristically doubtful.

“Then, we’ll argue our case, and we’ll defend ourselves fairly.” Nagito put his hand on his hip, while narrowing his eyes, “Consequences—we can’t just ignore those. We also have an Ultimate Lawyer here. And the Ultimate Prosecutor, etc. …And I guess Class 78 with the Foundation will probably be willing to lend a hand. After all we’ve done.” He gestured to Hajime, who felt himself blush a little from the embarrassment.

“I’ll do my best… and I’d say, we probably have a fighting chance. Compared to what’ll happen if people find us hiding in Jabberwock, like… idiots.” Hajime sighed, leaning against Nagito’s shoulder. The future sounded tough.

“Ha… yeah… I think that sounds pretty good. And those Monokumas all across Japan, I personally wanna still go back…” Kazuichi responded, looking a bit defeated. Nekomaru patted his back, and almost knocked him over.

“Kazuichi…” Hajime whispered, almost feeling a little proud. He really had grown, huh. “And remember what we resolved at the end of the killing game?”

“We’ll keep on forging our own path to the future, you mean?” Fuyuhiko asked, furrowing a brow. “Of course.”

“Yeah, where we learn from our mistakes?” Akane laughed, emboldened.

“And we won’t hide from our actions.” Nagito’s quiet voice carried across the room, as he met Hajime’s eyes.

“Well, of course, nothing’s over then, right? We’ll have to say how everything happened,” Kazuichi muttered, somber. He raised his eyes towards Tanaka, who, curiously enough, nodded in response. There was definitely a story there.

“Haha… if you think about it, Hope’s Peak—they tried to hide everything, and it came up anyways,” Teru agreed, looking around nervously.

“An’ we can’t let them forget that! We need to remind ‘em of what happens when you do that stuff to talent—when you become Despair like that.” Akane’s mouth was completely full from the snacks, but she somehow managed to talk around it anyways.

“I sincerely agree. We should face our past, present, and future with open eyes—we shalln’t run away!” Sonia victoriously grinned, pointing her finger forward… at Mitarai? Unexpected—but all the more welcome for it, as Mitarai nodded violently.

“To be honest with you guys, I don’t even want to run away. And there’s no way I’m leaving Hajime to clean up our mess alone.” Nagito added, shifting closer to Hajime’s side

“Hehe, looks like lover boy is stuck—”

“Oh, Hiyoko! This is serious,” Mikan sternly reprimanded. She happily glanced at their intertwined hands, “…and we both,” Mikan smiled at Hiyoko, “will go back. To Jabberwock and Japan—Future Foundation—everything.”

“I’m glad. And Hajime,” Nagito peered through his eyelashes mock-shyly, “you’re coming to Japan with me, right? As my best friend?”

“Maybe,” Hajime started, before frowning, “well, actually—that’s a stupid answer. Of course.”

“But… still, thanks.” He whispered.

Did Nagito hear that—well, judging by his hand’s comforting squeeze, he did. And his gentle expression, and his pretty, teasing seaglass eyes—argh.

That bastard was so—ugh. Did best friends usually make each other blush and hold hands? Yeah, probably.

(“The gayest freaking besties I’ve ever seen… and then, they were roommates. Ugh,” Hiyoko grumbled.

“I know, that’s what I said!” Mikan whisper-shouted.)

As if hearing his thoughts, Nagito laughed quietly, before knitting their hands together. It was time to face everything and everyone, and he did feel terrified. His heartbeat was racing, pumping like it had in the trials—Nagito’s fingers were cold with anxiety. But, hey, with Class 77 all together?

Things were gonna be better.

#kmhnsecretexchange #submission #fanfiction #sfw #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #dr #sdr2 #dr3

[notwithaste]

me for the past few nights: next ep is the one something happens, i can feel it 🤞🏻🤞🏻and tonight i will finally be right 😂 i have a very nice red on the shelf for just such an occasion; and it’s australian, too! (a friend said i might have to wait until the movie so she’s no longer a friend 😌)

ON that bittersweet reaching the end of my journey with them note!

the tennis ep was actually insane. to be fair, me commenting on miss fisher murder mysteries is just me saying they were so insane for this over and over again 😂

no but they were so insane for this episode!

starting right off the bat with jack teasing her with the spider fingers thing was just 🥺 i can see so clearly into the established relationship and it is good. and by the way, what i love most about them is that established relationship phrack is going to be exactly like pre-canon phrack except sometimes they’ll be naked.

and then her finger on his lips; i know you know what you’re doing miss fisher!

alas for the main event, and what if this scene was my last straw 😭

i love how we went from jack not wanting phryne anywhere near his crime scenes to him having the paperwork ready and giving her his childhood badge so they can work together. that’s what we call development, kids. and only a couple of episodes after he gave her that brooch. he’ll never ask her that question and he’ll never give her the ring but boy is he asking all the other questions in all the other ways, and if that paper and that badge aren’t symbolism for a certain kind of lasting union - but custom tailored to the two of them - i will eat my hat!

and can we take a moment to ~reflect and properly consider how fast phryne signed those papers. no hesitation, no questions asked before committing herself to whatever jack was offering. for me, that was such a ~moment; the way her trust in him is unquestioning and absolute.

no but this might be my favourite still of her ever actually:

i can’t stop thinking about it, how she looks at him like he hung the moon and it’s actually incredibly endearing the way she is just so obviously crazy about him 😭 and it’s the way he still seems pretty oblivious to the extent of her feelings is what really gets me. i mean, obviously he ~knows she wants him, she has never been shy about that; and he knows she cares about him, and he probably knows she likes him. but i don’t think he actually realises exactly how head-over-heels in love she is with him (hint: it’s about the same amount he’s in love with her).

and there’s something about the above cap that makes it a sister cap to this one:

the two scenes just give the same energy. phryne fisher, bare faced and smitten with jack robinson.

the internal device scene was comic gold, i am still loling at it moving, at hugh’s realisation, at jack being amusedly unfazed. i mean season one jack would have absolutely blushed and stammered his way through that but our season three jack has had the benefit of miss phryne fisher completely invade his life and that guy is made of sterner stuff 🏌🏻‍♀️

IT’S SO MUCH BETTER WHEN HE DOES IT WITH HIS TEETH line 😭 good grief, jealous phryne is my favourite phryne, i fear. it’s nothing out of control and it doesn’t linger or colour her actions or define their relationship even for a bit; which is what makes it so delicious when she indulges in that moment of asserting herself as the woman in jack’s life. full marks! (also full marks for jack never giving these women but an inch. i love that.)

no but jack’s brain hasn’t had a steady blood supply for two straight seasons now; he is god’s strongest strongest soldier

i suppose the blood supply issue explains my hypothetical above about how the hell does he not see she’s crazy about him 😭

them playing tennis like the couple they are, i hate them actually. their canon relationship game will serve, i know it. (parampapshh 🥁)

anyway, it’s really gonna be the last episode huh they’re really like that 😮‍💨 tbh with this sort of absolutely insane off the charts chemistry and incredible build-up, i can’t say i even mind. i’m not someone who needs to see the day-to-day of an established relationship, and while it would have been great to see them work on a case or two as a couple, to see them bickering and teasing and being them together for a season, i’m equally happy to leave that to fic. the build up is so much more important; the way two people find their way to each other, and honestly with this show it feels so earned.

#miss fisher's murder mysteries #phrack #phryne x jack #phryne fisher #jack robinson #game set & murder

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton is interviewed ahead of the miami grand prix [part 1] - may 3, 2023 (transcription under the cut)

Interviewer: "So, Lewis, just saw you playing a bit of basketball. It looks like that's not your first time, right? You've played a bit before. You looked pretty good out there." Lewis: "I played when I was a kid, and I love to play when I can, but I haven't played for ages." Interviewer: "Do you get competitive even in those kind of situations?" Lewis: "Super. I think it's almost like a sickness. [laughs] When I lost, I was... Yeah, can't help it. I'm like, damnit! I'm like, re-run it. All I can think of is like, can I get them to re-run it? And then, at the end, I stayed and I just kept hitting... Just to get past that comeptitive part of me, so, yeah." Interviewer: "It did look good at the end. At the end, it looked like you were..." Lewis: "Yeah, but it should be... When the pressure was on, I should have been good." Interviewer: "Yeah. All I can say is, we had George do it a couple of years ago and you're better than George, so..." Lewis: "Oh, yeah, yeah. I mean, if I wasn't, it would be a huge let-down on that side of things. Like, I grew up playing. I love basketball and I follow it. George definitely doesn't. I don't know what other sport George... Maybe soccer or something like that, but..." Interviewer: "Well, we saw you two playing a bit of table tennis. That looked competitive." Lewis: "Oh, yeah, yeah. I need to get better at that, as well. Yeah, he had a ping pong table, like, we made a desk, and then he brought his own ping pong net, so yeah, I think we have to re-up that game. I definitely need to get better at ping pong." Interviewer: "So that's the one thing he's got on you, maybe? Is..." Lewis: "At the moment, he's killing me at... He beat me. Well, not killing me, but he beat me at ping pong, so I definitely need to work on that." Interviewer: "Yeah, I can see that." Lewis: "Hopefully, maybe we'll get a table more frequently, and then we'll see how it is at the end of the year." Interviewer: "It was great content, as well, seeing you two doing something like that." Lewis: "Yeah, it was good fun." Interviewer: "While we're on the subject of basketball, or back on the subject of basketball, I see you posted Giannis' piece in the press conference where he talked about failure and the very big difference between failure and steps to make progress. What did that say to you? Because obviously it's something which you wanted to put back out there, as well." Lewis: "I reposted it because I just felt... I've been in that position and I could feel the frustration. I knew exactly how it is, like that, 'cause when you're working toward something, it's all about... Success is made up of a ton of failures. You fail far more than you do succeed, and I think sometimes people are complacent when they're asking you questions. 'How does it feel to be failing?' It's not really that... There are no mistakes, there are only lessons, I keep saying, and you can't always win. But it's not how you fall, it's how you get back up. It's how you show up, day in, day out, and train, and continue to try to get to wherever it is you're trying to get to, which is obviously the top, and I thought it was really inspirational. I thought he just spoke very, very well. I think he was just very eloquent with how he put it down." Interviewer: "Yeah, 'cause we only tend to see the success; the tip of the iceberg, if you like. There must be so much that goes on, being a pro athlete, to get to that point and, obviously, like you say, failures, call them what you like, along the way, but it's all steps toward something important, right?" Lewis: "Yeah, exactly, but also people... I mean, the emotional stress you go through when you're working with a team... The emotional feelings you go through, the physical, where you're just constantly having to dig deep... And all sportsmen and women out there will know what it's like. It's great to see there's so many people so super competitive, but yeah, it's obviously a different... When you see them... From our side of the table, when you're on this side being asked questions and you're the one going through all this stuff... In the spotlight, as well. I feel sometimes it's difficult for people to understand, I guess." Interviewer: "Yeah, I mean, right now, obviously things aren't quite where you want it, but your motivation is still there. We heard you get out of the car in Baku and you were saying I don't just want one more year. I want several more years here. So where's that coming from, inside you?" Lewis: "I love what I do. I mean, racing has been my life... Two-thirds of my life, I've been racing, so there's never gonna be a day that I don't... I'm always gonna be watching racing. I'll always be a driver, 'til I die, right? The seasons are very long. It's a gruelling career, but it also gives so much. But I don't know. I'm loving working with my team, I'm still loving racing, and I love being in battle on track. And when you get in the zone, where you're really on top of everything, there's a special synergy that you have which is hard to find. And I'm 38, but I feel younger than ever. I'm training better than I've ever trained before, I feel like I'm in a great place, so I don't see why I would want to stop any time soon. And there's a lot more I wanna do within the sport. As the sport continues to grow, the work that we're doing, not only within the sport, but outside, in terms of the impact... And working here today with IWC and [unintelligible], getting young kids an opportunity to get into STEM from underserved communities, that's some incredible work, and I wanna be a part of that." Interviewer: "Yeah, 'cause that's really tied in with what you've tried to, as well, from Mission 44, and you were saying the other day that you'd like to expand it to the US, you'd like to expand it to Africa. Could you talk about what the plans are there?" Lewis: "Yeah, Mission 44, we're working on a plan to expand it to... I'd love to bring it to the States and I'd love to do some work... With my trip to Africa and discovering more about my heritage in Africa, I see there's so much opportunity out there for kids, and it's really hard to believe it if you can't see it, so it's creating an opportunity for these kids. Every kid deserves an opportunity; a good education. Every kid should understand what STEM could lead to, and it's not just one job, and I think there's just a lot of... And also just, I'm really focused on just transforming the lives of young, underserved kids. That's what drives me when I'm in the car. If I can get on the podium, and get first, and I have a bigger platform to push that narrative and work with great brands like IWC to actually make an impact when we are in these places... And it's not just about a product. I's actually about a real story and a journey that we're on."

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #miami gp 2023 #fic ref #fic ref 2023 #miami #miami 2023 #miami 2023 wednesday #not a race #2023 not a race #between baku and miami 2023 #with george