#because my mom put the effort in finding it

[mossyeyeballs]

TW: mentions of pretty much everything terrible. 🍇, trafficking, all of the above.

CLASS OF 09 RANT, FLIP SIDE SPOILERS

Ok not my usual post (I’ve posted twice ik but shush) but what the freak was the flip side??….. I was a huge fan of class of 09 + the re up but this game was so.. what’s the word….. dog shit? Even if we ignore half of the game being about the creators weird foot fetish, the sl@ve ending was so unnecessary. I feel like the only thing in that route that was worth writing was the issue in retail work and that wasn’t even the star focus, let alone side focus. The main plot of that route was the counselor having some weird illegal 🌽 warehouse, jecka finding it, and then him blackmailing her into human 🚙 🚙 ing?

The only ending I thought was necessary IF THAT was when Jecka found Nicole after the sue a side ending from re up. I thought it did a decent job at talking about sue a side victims, and how nobody really cares about them until it’s too late, And even then they only care for a week or so and then move on.

But the Jeffery dying one was the most out of place in my opinion (unfortunately it beats the foot ending.) For starters, Nicole was really out of character imo, like yeah she’s talked about wishing Jeffery was dead before, but her actually killing him just out of boredom is so odd. Her entire character is “I don’t put effort into anything unless it benefits me.” Killing Jeffrey was not only ALOT of effort, but she gained absolutely nothing. On top of that, saying it’s different than doing. Like how she talked about wishing her mom was dead, but then when she had a heart attack, she panicked. Plus, she PLANNED on making Jecka take some of the blame on his death, which she stated in past games she wouldn’t do. She literally never put Jecka in harms way, let alone jail if it didn’t also benefit them both. But this didn’t, she just did it to do it.

While we’re talking about Nicole being out of character, I feel it valid to mention her and Jeckas dad. For obvious (and gross) reasons, I won’t be detailing this, but her doing that to Jecka wasn’t fully out of character, but still odd. Like I mentioned earlier, Nicole never really did anything to spite Nicole, so I find it odd that she did in this game. You could blame it on “oh she’s a sociopath she doesn’t care.” But I don’t think that’s inherently true. Yeah, I guess it’s canon she’s a sociopath, but in that case they do a bad job at consistency. She’s shown in both games 1 and 2 caring about people she’s close with, whether it’s Jecka, her mom, or even Emily in one segment. So I find it completely random that she did this to Jecka over something as small as not sharing how she got into foot work. Jeckas done much worse stuff to Nicole, and Nicole just didn’t care because they were friends, or didn’t feel the need to put effort into doing something if she did care. So yeah, Nicole basically screwing Jeckas dad over something so little felt out of character.

One of the few things that bothered me the least, but I feel the need to mention was the foot work stuff. Not because it was out of character, i fear I’ve seen worse stuff mentioned in that game. But I guess the way it was portrayed as less of a story plot and more of the creator trying to live out his fantasies. He himself has stated Jeffrey is basically a self insert, so the whole being sexually obsessed with Jecka and her feet felt REALLY weird. Compared to Nicole’s my space favor thing, this just felt dirty. For comparison. Both Jecka and Nicole took up sex work to keep a home life or lackthereof, they both got money from strangers to do sexual things, and they both hated doing it. But why did Jeckas feel so much more personal and gross? Because the actual sex work was shown. In graphic detail. And all of Jeffrey’s (the creators) personal thoughts were stated with no backlash. Jeffery literally asked Jecka if she would 🍒feed him, and he was excused. When Nicole was asked the same hing from the same guy, he was insulted, yelled at, even told to leave.

So, creepy creator who’s obsessed with his barely legal characters, Jecka being sold to 🚙 🚙ing agaisnt her will, Jeffrey being murdered for no reason other than a giggle or two from his haters, Jecka accidentally killing Ari cause she was drunk driving, feet fan service, and fan service in general aside, the game is left only with the regular drug and alcohol abusage we always see. which in the game that was advertised as a new experience felt really stale and honestly left me bored. The ONE SINGULAR time during this game that I giggled was when the hat man appeared in the Ari route.

If you’ve fully ignored everything I said in this, maybe didn’t care, or didn’t even read it. Id just like to mention for everyone that the creator of this game said that anybody who disliked him, his games, his writing, or his humor were kid diddlers. In full seriousness. So yeah, no shock this game was bad, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected better from someone who thinks his haters are all child likers. All this being said, I enjoyed class of 09, and the re up. I’m hoping the anime episode that comes out soon with be a decent save. all of THAT being said, I don’t support this creator. I don’t support his actions, I think he’s a shitty person who’s made some shitty jokes, but made some not so shitty games that I decently enjoyed. I also haven’t bought them, so none of my money has gone towards him or his projects. I in NO WAY support him. Thanks for reading.

Feel free to comment down some of your own opinions if you feel so inclined, I’m interested in what everyone else thought of this game :))

[mynameisjag]

From a fic I never finished, Bruce and Damian enjoy a day out. That's it, just them having a good day.

It wasn’t often that Bruce went out into Gotham as well, just Bruce…not Batman or Brucie Wayne.

Just Bruce.

Changing into simple clothing, letting his hair air dry and just heading out like that and the public didn’t recognize him.

No slicked back hair or suits of any kind.

Just a t-shirt, his favorite throw over cardigan and what Dick insisted was mom jeans, a five o’clock shadow, and he was ready to go.

Just a quick trip to the shopping center to pick up some office supplies for his home office, a few groceries for Alfred, some snacks for the Batcave, and he probably needed to check the family chat to see if anyone needed anything while he was out.

A quick glance at his messages as he began to head out, already on his way to the garage, Dick was trying his best to convince him to get…strawberry flavored Batty-O’s with crackling and popping sprinkles…sounds horrible and right up his eldest alley…also full of terrible sugars…

Alfred would hunt both of them down if he brought this home.

He’ll just order it and have it shipped to Dick’s apartment…

Jason wanted him to fuck off…Bruce sent off a xoxo and a request to come over for tea in response to that. He got a thumbs up and a middle finger.

Tim…is either half asleep and texting or is trying to send out a code for everyone to decipher…both was possible…adding melatonin to the list…

Cass was sending happy faces, so it’s seems she’s good at the moment, sending her a heart, ballet shoes and a crown. His dancing princess.

Duke sent a thumbs up and got one back in return.

Steph was just saying she’ll just take what she needs from his place whenever…time to restock the “hidden” care packages then.

And Damian…Damian was staring him down from the passenger seat of the car…

“Damian…is there something you need that you couldn’t put in chat?”

“I am coming with you.”

“…you hate the public…”

“I will overcome my distaste of others and escort you, Father, you shall not face the scrutiny of the common by yourself.”

Aww, he just wanted to spend time together and Bruce could never refuse the baby of the family, “Of course, I appreciate your concern.”

His darling just puffed up with a smug smile, proud that he managed to get his way without any argument, “I’m glad you are agreeable.”

Look, they are communicating!

Not well, but it was a step forward!

Besides Damian even took the effort to dress more ‘civilian’, the green sweater with a little tiny bird stitched in with the words ‘just a bobbin like a robin’ was definitely a gift from Dick.

Adjusting the seat belt and getting the car out of the garage, Bruce just hummed happily, letting the silence settle between them comfortably. Mentally going back over his list, glancing over to see his son playing on an old handheld game. Something that was more then likely stolen out of Tim’s room, but with the older boy making his own place in the city, it would be awhile before it would be noticed it was gone.

Almost all his children had moved out…he was happy they were moving on in their lives, looking more into their futures but his heart hurt because his babies weren’t actually babies any more. They would have argued that none of them were ever babies with him but he would just ignore that.

He hoped this doesn’t result in empty nest syndrome…

“Baba, can we stop by the game store, I want to see if I can find more interesting games.”

“We can, after we get everything on the list, can you check my phone and see if anyone has sent in anything they want to be picked up-what in Lady Gotham is this?”

Bruce blinked as traffic was stopped to let a…small parade of Batman floats pass by…

“There are copycats out on the street, how dare they parade around as us!”

“…I think parade is the word, look at the banners…”

Batman Day!

“So they are not copycats…but worshippers…”

Bruce tried not to laugh at the thought, "I think the word is…enthusiastics…”

They both watched as a man walked past wearing a banner that said, “Priest of The Bat”.

“…and we will be investigating that later, let’s see if we can park and look around.”

“Time for some detective work, Father?”

“Undercover detective work.”

Damian was eagerly typing away on the phone, “I shall keep the others off our trail so they won’t interrupt our investigation, also according to the online advertisement, the parade will end in the park where the “Batman Day festival” will begin. They will have bat themed mooncakes at certain booths.”

“Are the mooncakes important to the investigation?”

“One must keep all possibilities open, we must check each booth for clues.”

Bruce kept the smile that was threatening to grow held down, he was sure the boy wouldn’t appreciate being cooed over his want of treats being disguised as being extra thorough, more so that he didn’t want his siblings interrupting their day. He was going to have to order everything online and have it shipped to the manor then, mundane chores could wait.

His baby wanted mooncakes.

He will get mooncakes.

It didn’t take too long to park and follow the short parade to the fairgrounds, even with them stopping and staring at the lookalikes, a man giving them a balloon with the bat symbol and the words ‘I believe in Gotham’s local cryptids’, and someone clipping tiny bat wings to the back of their shirts at some point.

Soon the entrance was in view and by that time, Damian was now on Bruce’s shoulders, taking in the crowd, head turning back and forth at the bright lights, the performers in bat themed outfits, wide eyed as a child runs in front of then in a Robin costumes.

Bruce is humming thoughtfully to himself as he eyes a group in clown makeup done up in a Gothic theme, so far all they seem to be doing is some parlor tricks for the crowd around them. Some people even taking selfies, it was a rare sight for a Gothamite to get close to a clown without violence.

He was wondering if he should text the others, surely by now they would be aware of this festival happening, Barbara had to have known…

“Darling, do you want to text your siblings?”

“I can tell them to be on alert for any suspicious behaviors while we blend into the crowd…like the one over by the dart game.”

Bruce could only blink as his head was forcefully turned toward a booth with a bunch of balloons tied to a backboard, “Dart game?”

“Yes, obviously it’s a skill test but what kind? We must investigate.”

Hmm, a skill test that totally didn’t have to do with the giant plush animals as prizes.

“I think I remember Dick saying how these games were rigged,” he watches as a parent carries off their crying kid, wincing in sympathy as the cries get louder.

“No amount of trickery could possibly stop us!”

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

There is something to be said for

“I like these clothes because they mess with your preconception of me and I want people to stop sticking me in a certain box”

vs

“I like these clothes because they make me feel more comfortable in my own skin”

and how they’re sometimes but not always the same thing

[mars-likethe-plan3t]

I feel so fucking alone all the fucking time.

[myname-isnia]

I haven’t even been home for 24 hours and things already suck

[absentlyabbie]

i'll tell you what converted me to being all-in on keeping cats indoors only:

living for a year and a half in a rural area with a sudden feral cat colony explosion on the property.

i moved in with my folks for a bit and at that time, one (1) stray cat mama had taken up residence on the property, but was too feral to let my mother anywhere near her. but especially after she brought three kittens around, mom fed her and the kittens in hopes they'd grow trusting enough she could catch for spay and neuter at the minimum. momcat stayed mean and hella wary, but the kittens would hang around a little nearer and play with my mom via long stick, but still wouldn't come close enough to touch or catch.

unfortunately, two of the three kittens were girls and started having kittens of their own before further progress was made, shortly after i moved in. and that was pretty much instant doom.

there were so many kittens. SO MANY. multiple litters. every time we turned around, more kittens.

we fed them. we hunted for and located the kittens every time anywhere on the property and would move them to a repurposed doghouse anytime a mama cat had them somewhere else, so that they could grow up human-socialized and we could spay/neuter them when they were old enough. (also it was a handy tactic to push the issue of the mamas getting more used to/trusting of us themselves. only really worked with one of them, though.)

and we watched them die.

we watched litter after litter of kittens never make it to the age they could be spayed or neutered. the moms stayed, for the longest time, too skittish to more than briefly touch, much less catch and crate for a vet visit.

it sounds like a silly joke to say i have kitten-related ptsd, but i absolutely do.

too many goddamn times i'd walk out of the garage and find the carport and gravel drive strewn with tiny bodies. others simply went missing, never to be found.

one in particular, i wish i hadn't found, and the visual literally haunts me still, almost a decade later.

i saw so many kittens die of snake bite, spider bite, wild dogs, birds of prey, hit by cars, respiratory illness, covered in fleas and eyes crusted with infection.

and we loved them all. scrimped for antibiotics if the vet could be convinced to give it to us despite our being unable to bring them in. bought flea collars and ointments. we cared for them and fed them and petted them and played with them, brushed their fur and cleaned up their little faces, put ice in their water in hot summer, rigged a heating lamp in their house in the winter.

and they died. horribly. that property is pocked with unmarked graves of kittens and cats.

all the best intentions, not enough resources, and it didn't matter anyways because the population went from three to almost twenty (at times, over thirty) in the blink of an eye.

they died and died and died. our hearts broke over and over again. the stress and anxiety wore us down like sandpaper. i think, by the end of it all, we managed to find less than 10 of them all homes, including batman the disabled kitten i found a home across the country through tumblr.

it was carnage and tragedy, frankly. and we were helpless.

it only ended because they started dying faster than they could be born, and because we finally caught the two remaining mom cats in traps and got them spayed.

the points about outdoor cats being invasive predators devastating to local wildlife populations is true and valid and important.

but i know cat people, and cat people who don't know better than to let cats outdoors. what matters to you is the cat itself, generally. the cat being happy and taken care of.

keeping cats outdoors, letting them outdoors, is not taking care of the cats. it's not protecting them. it's not giving them any happiness or invigoration that couldn't be provided to them as indoor-only pets with just a little research and effort.

they die. they get ill. they get hurt. they're at risk of predators, and cars, and disease, and carelessly cruel children and deliberately cruel adults. they're at risk of disappearing on you because someone else saw a cat outdoors and intervened to give it a better, safer life not in conflict with the local environment.

and if that offends and angers you that someone would just take a cat they saw roaming outdoors, even collared, and that it sounds like i'm endorsing that, i am, but not if you intervene and be that person yourself for your own cat.

if what matters to you is doing right by your cat because it's family and a living creature whose happiness and health and safety is important to you,

keep them indoors. not part time. always. exclusively.

edit: since apparently i need to clarify this, i'm saying cats should live inside, that they should not live outdoors, even part time. visiting the outdoors supervised on a leash or in an enclosed catio is not the same as even part-time living outside, and i am certainly not advocating against it.

[yamujiburo]

HANAMUSA HEADCANONS

Woo! Some fun lil headcanons~

Jessie and Delia Headcanons

Delia is a morning person and was surprised to learn that Jessie was even more of a morning person than her

Jessie's a massive romantic and is usually the one to plan all their dates

Jessie and Delia enjoy doing karaoke together

After finding out Delia wanted to be model, Jessie started making a lot of new outfits for her using her years of expertise from making disguises

Jessie enjoys giving Delia makeovers and Delia loves getting them

Delia enjoys being big spoon

Delia initiated their first kiss

Jessie cuts Delia’s hair for her

Once Jessie becomes a nurse and starts going to work, Delia starts packing lunches for her every day. It’s usually way too much food

Whenever Delia’s working in the kitchen, Jessie’s always waddling right behind her. Not really being much help but Delia doesn’t mind

Jessie's not great at cooking but makes an effort to make food for Delia when she notices Delia's tired. It's usually bad but Delia appreciates the thought

Delia is incredibly fond of Jessie’s Pokémon, Wobbuffet and Gourgeist in particular 

Delia is terrified of snake Pokémon

Delia never really drank before meeting Jessie but now they have wine nights together. They usually end with Jessie passed out in Delia’s lap

When Delia gets really drunk, she gets REALLY affectionate and grabby

Delia can't swim and it's her secret shame

Professor Oak is very cordial with Jessie but also wary of her. He mostly wants to make sure Delia is taken care of and won't get her heart broken

Pikachu comes around to Jessie rather quickly after realizing she’s not really a threat and finding out how good at head scratches she is (she has nice long nails)

Mimey takes the longest to come around to Jessie 

Jessie calls Delia “my Deerling” and Delia calls Jessie "Smoochum"

Delia loves when Jessie gives her kisses on the forehead

Delia is a huge Jessilina fan. Jessie reveals that she is Jessilina but Delia doesn’t believe her at first

Jessie and Delia do a lot of movie nights together. Jessie loves sobbing at romcoms and Delia likes really fucked up horror movies for some reason (Jessie’s terrified of them but doesn’t want Delia to think she’s a coward)

Jessie likes to randomly scoop Delia up and carry her around the house

Delia picked up a habit of talking to herself prior to Jessie moving in. It frequently catches Jessie off guard

Jessie gets irritated when people flirt with Delia. Mostly because that's her girl but also because she's mad they weren't flirting with her, herself.

Delia tends to keep a lot of her negative feelings to herself but after meeting Jessie and seeing how unapologetically expressive she is, she starts letting her guard down a bit. She rants about rude customers and Jessie could listen to her all day

Because she lived alone for so long, Delia sometimes needs her space. Jessie’s still getting used to this (as someone who hates being alone)

Delia is very particular about how chores are done as well as how things are organized in her house

Prior to getting her own job, Jessie would just do chores then sit around at the Ketchum house waiting for Delia to come home. She’s very bad at entertaining herself

Jessie puts on a healthy amount of relationship weight over time. Long gone are the days of Jessie eating snow (out of necessity) and starving

Jessie still likes snowgasboard as a treat

Delia and Jessie both have abandonment issues and require a lot of reassurance from one another

Delia's not super strong but she starts working out in order to one day carry Jessie on their wedding day

Jessie, who is used to being on the run, gets antsy from staying home more frequently. She takes up a lot of yoga and running. Delia joins sometimes.

Ash Headcanons

When Ash first found out that his mom was dating Jessie, he was, justifiably, suspicious of her.

Early on Ash would secretly prank Jessie in hopes that it'd make her leave

Jessie and Ash slowly bond through Pokémon battles as well as sharing Pokémon facts with each other

Ash never calls Jessie “mom” and she’s very okay with that. He does however call her “dad” to piss her off

Jessie calls Ash “champ” in retaliation

Jessie's been quietly invested in Ash's love life, having seen him travel with so many people and witnessing all the crushes people have had on him.

James Headcanons

James is aroace and happy not being in a relationship

Now that he's settled down in Pallet, James spends a lot of his time indulging in his many hobbies (bottle cap/Pokéball collecting, gardening, building miniature models of various things, raising and training Pokémon, etc.)

Because Jessie kept passing out at wine nights, Delia started inviting James to them and it's now become more of their thing

James started off as just a waiter at Delia's restaurant but Delia found out he was great at cooking so they exchange roles sometimes

Jessie frequently goes to him for advice on how to impress Delia and be a better person for her. He's the nicest person she knows.

Jessie is still pretty affectionate and close with James and he gets freaked out about it, thinking Delia would have a problem with it (she does not)

James and Ash really get along. Even early on when he was still getting used to Jessie being around the house, he'd confide in James (and James, like a secret helper, would help Jessie out by letting her know Ash's needs)

Meowth Headcanons

Meowth took getting fired from Team Rocket the hardest

Delia and Professor Oak filled the Giovanni shaped hole in his heart

Oak had a really hard time trusting Meowth at first and whenever he translated anything from the Pokémon, Oak wasn't sure whether to believe him or not

After some time working at Oak's lab, Oak gave Meowth a pet on the head after he did a good job and it altered his brain chemistry forever

Meowth had a hard time making friends with Ash's Pokémon at Oak's lab (obviously) but Infernape, right away was happy to have him around. He helped all the Pokémon come around and get to know Meowth

Meowth was the first one to pick up on Jessie's crush on Delia. Unlike James, he didn't get too involved, worried that Jessie dating Delia then potentially blowing it might ruin a good thing (his views on love are a bit jaded after his experiences)

Meowth is now very supportive of Jessie and Delia, and is happy that one of his best friends found love

Other Headcanons

Professor Oak is very cordial with Jessie but also wary of her. He mostly wants to make sure Delia is taken care of and won't get her heart broken

Pikachu comes around to Jessie rather quickly after realizing she’s not really a threat and finding out how good at head scratches she is (she has nice long nails)

Mimey takes the longest to come around to Jessie. Jessie's asked Meowth to help her figure out what Mimey's deal is but Meowth is also scared to talk to Mimey.

Seviper desperately longs for Delia's love and attention but she's too scared of it. She eventually gets to the point where she can pet it with no issues as long as Jessie is also in the room

Early on, Delia's customers start to pick up on the fact that Delia was happier. They assumed she'd finally found a new boyfriend but they were very surprised to find out she was dating a bombshell of a woman

The people of Pallet were initially a bit scared of Jessie. Not a lot of women there look quite like her. She has an intimidating aura but over time find that she's quite pleasant, especially when she's with Delia

General Team Rocket Heacanons!

[luveline]

hotch x reader with new baby girl, honestly i have no ideas just anything with girl!dad aaron lovey fluff is all i want, he’s just so lovely ily jadey 💕

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Hotch is so hungry he genuinely wonders if it is acceptable to collapse and beg you to make him a sandwich. He probably would if Jane hadn’t tired you out so fiercely that morning; learning to crawl is hard on both the baby and the mom. 

It’s not his turn to make dinner, but he is, because he doesn’t really care who’s turn it is. He has the tortellini on a low heat, the veggies toasting to a golden brown in the oven. 

He wonders if having a baby isn’t what you thought it would be. It’s certainly not how Hotch imagined it, because Jane is gorgeous and he couldn’t be more in love with her, but she’s also very hard work. Hard work you often perform alone. You don’t seem upset, only tired, and so making dinner is his pleasure. It’s as he’s finishing up that he wonders if he should’ve offered to put Jane down instead. 

He’s trying so, so hard to be the best father and husband that he can be. He might always find it difficult (but it's an effort he’s always willing to make). 

“Dad?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah?” 

“Dinner almost done?” 

Hotch wraps an arm around Jack’s front despite his wriggling. “Almost,” he says into Jack’s hair, “did you wash your hands?” 

“I always wash my hands. Did you wash yours?” 

Hotch laughs. Steals that extra second with his arms around Jack before he pulls away. “Of course I did. I’m gonna go make sure everything’s okay in babyland, okay? And then we’ll fill in your homework diary.” 

Jack nods and goes back to colouring. In babyland, the living room, outfitted with toys and swings and sleepers, you and Jane are slouched on the floor. You’re leaning against the front of the couch with Jane in your lap while she looks up at you. At eight months old she’s more than fond of a cuddle. Her eyes are wide with love and awe alike as you rub the bridge of her nose with your pinky finger, the closer you get to her eyes, the more they squint closed. You repeat the motion over and over again. “You’re feeling sleepy,” you whisper in a funny tone, “you want to nap badly. You’re gonna sleep for a long couple of hours so mommy can have a bath.” 

“Mom can have a bath,” Hotch says. 

You don’t startle, but your surprise is evident in the way your hand slides up her back. “I’m kidding around.” 

“No, it’s okay. You go take a bath, I can have her.” 

“She might not like that.” 

Jane has clingy syndrome. “Does it matter?” he asks sincerely. If she cries, she cries, and he will try his hardest to comfort her. 

You smile slowly, and sweetly. “Okay, I’ll be quick. I don’t want to miss dinner.” 

“Dinner’s ready when you are.” 

Hotch crouches down to begin the transfer. “Hello, little love,” he murmurs, sliding his fingertips carefully behind her back. She’s warm, her onesie soft. “Can dad have a kiss?” 

Jane is a quiet baby. It’s normal that she might not start speaking for a few more months, but beside the occasional ‘bababa’ or giggly laugh, she doesn’t have much to say —not unlike her father. Her communication lays instead in affection. Her emotional intelligence is in the highest percentile, certainly. 

Not that Hotch is prone to bragging. “There’s my smarty,” he hums, pulling her gently into his arms before he stands. She looks at him with equal parts curiosity and annoyance. 

He can guess what she’s thinking. Why is dad picking me up? 

She looks for you with a wobbly lip. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, can’t dad have some time with you? You’ve favoured your mommy all day.” Hotch brings his free hand to her cheek to stroke it. She loves it, immediately tipping her face into his hand, tickled and huffing as he leans down to kiss her nose. “Please, can I have a kiss?” 

He kisses her cheek. She gives a spitty one back. 

You slink away while she’s distracted and he carries Jane to the kitchen, turning the oven off with one hand, and pushing a chair out with his foot to sit. Jack’s eyes brighten with her arrival, colouring pencils pushed aside. “Hi, Janie.” 

Jack waves at her. She waves back. 

He shifts Jane further into his arms to press lazy kisses over her ear. “My baby,” he murmurs, nearly inaudible against the hum of the washing machine in the utility room and the gentle patter of rain on the windows. “She’s my smart girl. Just like her brother.” He strokes her head back to see her and her baby-lashes. “Hm? You’re my smart girl, aren’t you?” 

She tucks herself into the curve of his neck.

“She knows how to wave already,” Jack says, “when will she be able to say my name?” 

“Pretty soon, bud. Babies tend to learn things in little jumps. She’s making sounds, the babbling she does? That’s a stepping stone. Next she’ll say mama, and then mom, and then we can teach her all sorts of words.” 

“Like crawling to walking.” 

Hotch smiles as Jane leans back against his hand. “Exactly. Jane isn’t the only smarty-pants, huh?” 

Jack smiles in return. “You look happy.” 

“I am happy. So happy, because I’m so lucky to be your dad.” 

“Is it weird?” 

“What?” 

Jack shrugs. “Being a dad.” 

“No, it’s never weird. Sometimes weird stuff happens. Like when we all panicked thinking we couldn’t fine Jane just to realise I was holding her,” —Jack giggles ferociously at the memory— “and, you know, sometimes things get pretty gross.” 

“Like spit up.” 

“Exactly. But being your dad isn’t weird. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m lucky…” He kisses Jane again indulgently. “To have ended up with another child as perfect as the first.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, squirming and pleased at once. 

“What?” Hotch laughs. He has spent a long time proving to Jack that he’s not as serious as he was, a long time trying to keep his promise, and he can see now that it worked. Jack shakes his head and goes back to his colouring as a smile apples his cheeks, not for a moment surprised that his dad loves him without hesitation. 

Hotch beams to himself, absolutely full to the top with love as he lifts Jane up just enough to make her smile too. “Oh, nummy!” he says, taking a big pretend bite of her belly. 

You take a long, long time in the bath. He ends up serving Jack’s plate when his son hints that he’s hungry, and giving Jane another couple of ounces of milk. She grows sleepy on his shoulder. With some soft taps to her spine and a handful of loving shushes, she falls asleep there. 

Sentimental, he thinks, Aw, my girl, and begins to rub her little foot through her onesie. 

You find him standing in the kitchen, hip to the counter. He’s not doing anything besides holding Jane, Jack’s plate abandoned at the table and his cartoons playing from the living room. Hotch should’ve put Jane down for a nap in the bassinet in the living room, freeing his hands to tackle the mess of dishes he’s made preparing dinner, but he honestly hadn’t thought about moving. He’d been perfectly content to hold her and rub her wiggling foot. 

“Sorry I took so long,” you whisper. 

“No, no, you take as long as you need. You look better.” 

You ease between Hotch and the counter, situating yourself in a snug corner to see Jane’s face more clearly. You look at her with love, and then you lean up to kiss his cheek. “I knew you’d get her to nap. You’re amazing.” 

“She likes all the same stuff as you and Jack,” Hotch whispers with a soft laugh.

You pause for a second. Careful, you bring your hand to his cheek, a gentle fist turned with knuckles inward as you stroke his cheek with your index finger. “Can I take a photo of you?” 

“What for?” he asks. 

“I wanna remember it. And it’ll be nice one day to show Jane.” 

“To show her what?” 

“You, Aaron. Show her how much you love her.” You drop your hand to his shoulder for a squeeze. “You’ve gotten even kinder since she was born. Did you notice?” 

It seems you’re feeling sentimental as well tonight. Your long bath has washed away the stress of a longer day. 

“Okay,” he says, too in love with your smile to disagree, “but just one.” 

[fingertipsmp3]

My sister messaged me

[solarmorrigan]

“Oh shit, what’s wrong?”

Steve watches, horrified, as Eddie reaches up with his free hand to swipe at the moisture gathering beneath his eyes.

“Nothing, man,” Eddie croaks, and Steve doesn’t believe him for a moment.

“Did I hurt you? Is the bandage on wrong? Too tight?” Steve becomes aware as he speaks that he’s all but clutching Eddie’s hand in his own and makes a conscious effort to loosen his grip.

This only seems to make things worse; Eddie makes a noise of protest and grabs more tightly to Steve’s hand and then looks twice as mortified as before, and that’s not at all what Steve wants.

Changing Eddie’s bandages is a goddamn ordeal; there are so many of them, and they seem to be everywhere, and Eddie doesn’t have the good drugs anymore, just Tylenol, and he’s always exhausted and sore by the end of it all. Steve doesn’t want to make him feel worse.

He would start fixing it, if he only knew what he’d done.

“Eddie,” he says softly, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

Eddie shakes his head, swiping under his eyes again. “It’s seriously nothing, it’s stupid. It’s just…” he hesitates, and Steve squeezes his hand encouragingly. “It reminded me of my mom, what you did, with the little – like, the little kiss on the bandage when you finished putting it on. She used to do that.”

“Oh – shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, overstep, or–”

“You didn’t–”

“I thought it would make you laugh or something, not drag out some sad memory, and–”

“Steve,” Eddie cuts in more firmly, “you didn’t. I’m not fuckin’ sad, it just – kinda hit me weird. That’s all.”

Steve purses his lips, staring up at Eddie from the kitchen floor, where he’s been kneeling in order to work at the bandages. He’s not sure if he should get out of Eddie’s space now, maybe give him a minute to himself, because Eddie is still holding onto his hand, and Steve still has another bandage to change out, and then Eddie rolls his eyes at him.

“Stop looking at me like you ran over my dog, man. I swear to god, I’m fine. It was kinda nice, actually, alright?” Eddie huffs. “Like, I forgot about that, until you did it, so it was– it was kinda nice.”

“Oh,” Steve says.

“Yeah. So do you think we could just…” Eddie gestures at his cheek with his free hand, and Steve nods.

“Yeah, lemme– I’ll finish up.”

The bandage on Eddie’s cheek is the last to change out, and Steve tries to make it quick. He has Eddie hold his hair to the side as he works, mostly to give him something to do with his hands – there are a million hair ties still floating around the house from before Robin cut her hair (Steve finds more every time he vacuums, he swears the things multiply in the dark), but Steve’s found that giving Eddie some kind of task keeps him still while Steve deals with disinfectant and gauze.

He's gotten the process down to something simple and efficient, and it feels like he’s done too soon. Eddie takes a sidelong glance at him when he takes his hands away, though he’s obediently holding still until he’s given the all-clear.

“Done?” he asks.

“Almost, yeah,” Steve says. “One last thing.”

Slowly, in case Eddie wants to pull back, Steve leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to the center of the bandage, holding his breath in shivery anticipation of Eddie’s reaction.

“That alright?” Steve asks quietly.

“Uh.” Eddie drops his hair and turns to look at Steve, eyes wide but dry this time. “Yeah. That’s– Actually, no.” Steve’s stomach drops when Eddie shakes his head, but then Eddie goes on, “I think you should do it one more time. Just, like, to make sure it works.”

“Yeah?” A slow grin curls over Steve’s face as his stomach makes its way back up from where it had landed near his ankles. “I think you’re right. Better safe than sorry.”

Steve leans in again, giving the bandage a quick, gentle peck. Then, because he can’t quite help himself, he presses another kiss to Eddie’s chin. And then, because they’re right there, pink and inviting and slightly parted as Eddie watches Steve with rapt attention, Steve presses one last kiss to his lips.

Eddie barely has time to return it, but he laughs when Steve pulls away. “Pretty sure my mouth was never injured, Steve.”

“You sure?” Steve shoots back.

“I mean– Well, you could check,” Eddie offers.

“Yeah, I could,” Steve says, leaning back in for another kiss – one that he thinks should be much more thorough.

All in the name of proper care, of course.

[Prompt: Kissing your partner's wounds]

[inkskinned]

i keep thinking about hobbies and how i often spill over myself to pick up new ones. i have adhd, i end up trying something for like a month and then just getting far enough in it that i move on, satisfied.

and that should be fine; but it's never fine.

i am a pretty decent artist; but i can't just make art for my dnd campaign, i should be selling dnd maps and character designs and scene setting pieces. i can't just make my friends matching earrings, i need to get an etsy and ship them internationally and take bulk orders. i make pretty good props and decorations and use them to throw my friends parties - but i should be running a party planning business and start taking paying clients and networking and putting my skills to actual use.

for some reason, i never figured out the specifics of pottery. it was a fun class and i enjoyed myself - and still, i'm embarrassed, years later, that i put in all that useless effort. everything i make has to be stunning. stellar. i should have applied myself more. maybe i'm too lazy. maybe i'm broken and selfish and needy. actually creative people would have kept going; they would be bettering themselves at every possible opportunity.

we find ourselves in this trap, even accidentally: we need to commodify our time, because it is a commodity. if we spend our efforts and our time not earning, isn't that the same thing as burning free money? and god forbid you ever take up a hobby that ends up being more expensive than you thought. you sit in your car and you look at the receipt and in your head you hear a conversation that isn't even happening - your mom or your friend or your partner all saying oh great. not this shit again. it's always something with you, and it never actually means anything.

i have realized this horrible thing, recently - i'll get excited to start a project, pick up a new hobby. and then i just... stop myself. i start thinking about the amount of time it will take, and how it'll look in my monthly budget. what if i can't even produce a good enough final product. sure, it's exciting to think about how i could make my friend her own custom dice. but i'm just polluting the earth if i don't get it right. better not bother. better not try.

restless, i get caught in the negative space. the feeling that oh god, i want to create. and that horrible sense - yeah, but i don't have the time to just put to waste.

[underestimated-heroine]

The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.

This is the shrimp guy story:

From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:

>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before >he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock >several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >do research, learn about water parameters and so on >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp >l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ >by this point I live and breathe shrimp >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos >l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself >l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart >l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew >We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.

He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."

And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.

Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.

[seat-safety-switch]

When I was a kid, my mom had a lawn flamingo named Wilma. We were always told: oh, Wilma means a lot to your mom.

One day, Wilma just got like broken down by UV exposure, and exploded. Sun did it over time. Weakened all the bonds of the plastic. It happens to lawn furniture a lot, but it had never before happened to Wilma. We were like: oh god, mom is going to be devastated, we have to find her a replacement Wilma.

So: I took the bus to the hardware store with my best friend, and we looked through all of their lawn flamingos for a replacement. After a couple minutes of searching (there were more plastic lawn flamingos at hardware stores back then, and the hardware stores were better) we found one that was close – but not exact – and brought it to my mom.

As soon as I stepped in the door, my mom immediately knew I was up to some shit, and asked about that shit. I pulled out the flamingo, and said I was so sorry her flamingo broke. It wasn't my fault. Here's a new one that you can hopefully grow to love too.

My mom sneers. "I fucking hated Wilma," she spits. It is then that I realize that she has also been to the hardware store, and has a large quantity of country-chic tractor parts decor that she is planning to put in that spot.

She continues: "Your uncle got that for me as a joke, and he told everyone that I loved lawn flamingos."

I had already bought it, and it was too late to take the bus back, so the new flamingo ended up in Wilma's spot, and we called her Wilma 2, because we had gone to all this effort to get it for her.

About a year later, a drunk driver backed through my parents' fence while trying to three-point-turn in the alley between two garage sales, and she crushed Wilma 2 beneath her tires.

There was never a Wilma 3.

[pantherxrogers]

unforgettable - choi san x fem!reader

🧡 pairing: choi san x fem!reader

🧡 warnings: angst, reader and san are married with a son, possible mispelling of korean words for "mom" and "dad" (so sorry! please leave feedback in the comments), fluff, separation

🧡 summary: san kinda fucked up. you're still married but not totally convinced he can balance work and your family. you sent him away for a few weeks, but he can't live with that. you're unforgettable, and he'll do anything to get his family back together.

🧡 a/n: this is 100% inspired by the movie "obsessed" with beyonce and idris lmao. but there is absolutely NO cheating involved. or any mentions of cheating. only inspired by one scene lmao. iykyk. plus second-chance romance always hits different.

hope you guys enjoy! 😚

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

"bubble, are you ready? daddy's here at the door!" you call into the house, angling your body away from your husband.

"i'm coming, mommy!" jun shouts, little footsteps echoing around in the background. you can tell he's in the toy room, trying to grab even more things than what you've already placed in his weekend bags.

"you look gorgeous, honey." the honesty in san's voice makes your heart flutter. but, you can't bring yourself to show it.

"okay, san," you mutter, trying to keep the grin off of your face. but, he knows you well. even if he can't see your face right now, he hopes his comment had some effect on you. because he really does mean it.

when you finally face him, emotion swirls in your chest. simply put, he looks good as hell. standing on your doorstep, the sunlight melts into his golden skin, accentuating his beauty. he's wearing his hair in your favorite style, obviously intentional. no one should look this sexy in a simple black shirt with jeans, but choi san always finds a way.

and it's hard for you to miss the wedding band still firmly in place on his left hand. you don't even realize you're smiling. but, of course, san does.

"you know it's my birthday on saturday, right?"

"you've only mentioned it a thousand times."

"have dinner with me?"

it's the same request you've heard repeatedly. but, he really is making more of an effort. san has always been a loving father and husband, but your marriage is in a rough spot right now.

before this comeback with ateez, he promised you that he'd make more of an effort to balance work and your family. but, the final straw was when he missed your son's piano recital. he's only five, but you'll never forget the disappointment on his little face when he saw san's empty chair.

so, you'd told him that you'd had enough. it might seem a little dramatic, but you needed to make a point. it's been three weeks since then. he's been staying with wooyoung. for san, every day has been torture. he wonders if you feel the same.

you're lost in thought when the soft patter of jun's footsteps get closer.

"omma, i'm ready!" his excited squeal makes your heart burst. you turn around to scoop him up, planting him on your hip. you try to close the door on san, but he sticks his boot in the way. with a little grunt, you face him again, cradling your son.

"hi junebug! you've gotten even bigger since yesterday!" san exclaims, prompting a giggle from your son.

you love the way they light up in front of each other. the love between them is palpable. you've never once questioned his love for you or your son. but sometimes love isn't enough.

"hi appa!" his squishy arms reach for his father, who smoothly takes him from you. san's touch leaves gooesbumps on your skin, which makes pride swirl in his chest. no one could ever deny the chemistry between the two of you.

"i'll be right back. let me go grab his bags," you explain, turning to walk back into the house.

you feel san's eyes on you. he's talking animatedly with your son, but it's impossible to ignore the way he shamelessly checks you out. you smirk to yourself, retreating further into your shared home.

okay, so maybe you wore this outfit on purpose. but, who can really blame you? after all, you don't want your marriage to end. but you want him to make some real changes. wearing his favorite sundress might be a little over the top, but who gives a damn. a little tease never hurt anyone. judging from the way his eyes roamed all over you, it's safe to say san doesn't mind.

making your way back towards the door, you struggle to hold all of the bags. your son always insists on bringing so many toys with him, even if he's only staying with his dad for a few days,

"hold on champ, let me help mommy," he murmurs, placing your son down. both of them make their way over to you, san smoothly grabbing everything. your son looks a little pouty, always wanting to prove his strength.

"appa, i can help too," he whines, tugging on san's denim.

"i know, buddy. but, i want you to have your arms free to give omma a hug," he explains. this time you're unable to keep the fond smile off of your face.

"c'mere june bug," you hum, sweeping him into a bear hug. you press several kisses on his squishy cheeks, delighting in his happy little squeals.

"i love you, bubble," you whisper, trying to fight the wobble in your lip. san's heart breaks a little bit. he knows neither of you will ever be able to get used to this. and he doesn't want you to. it's just more motivation to get his family back together.

you hug jun tightly before lowering him back to the ground, leading him and san towards the door.

"he'll be back before you know it." the warmth in san's voice makes you smile. he always knows what to say when you need it most.

"i know. i'm just a big crybaby," you whisper, not wanting jun to notice your sadness.

"no. you're just a great mom," he answers honestly, locking eyes with you. it's a direct hit, cracking through the tough exterior you try to put up around san. but maybe you don't want to anymore.

"c'mon bud, let me get you buckled in." san turns his attention to your son, heading out towards the suv he arrived in.

you stand at the door, watching your son babble to his father, likely filling him in on everything he got up to in the last 24 hours. san nods along enthusiastically, hanging on his every word. he puts the bags in the trunk, freeing up his hands to strap jun into the car seat. he jogs to the front seat, turning the car and ac on, before he lets jun's window down.

"bye omma!" his little voice carries across the yard. you make a show of blowing a kiss to him, which he grabs and holds near his heart. you wave and turn your attention to san before the waterworks start again.

to your suprise, he's jogging over to you, one hand behind his back. when he stops in front of you, he reveals a beautiful bouquet of flowers, a small white note sticking out the top of it.

"um?"

"beautiful flowers for my beautiful lady." his shameless flirting makes your cheeks heat up again, feeling like a school girl with a crush. instead of responding, you reach for the note.

have dinner with me? don't make the birthday boy eat alone.

you don't hide your smile this time, looking up to see the bright blush on his cheeks.

"bribing me with your birthday now?"

"you're the only gift i want."

you forget how to breathe for a second, the seriousness in his tone takes you back. regaining your composure, you respond with a curt nod.

"i'll have dinner with you, san" you state, unable to say no to him. and why should you? he really has been making more of an effort. taking off time from work to stop by and see jun (and you, of course).

he does a little victory dance, handing the flowers over to you. he's just as silly as ever, and you can't help but giggle at his antics.

"so, i'll pick you up saturday at 8?"

"i'll call the sitter."

"don't sweat it. woo would die if he knew we paid someone else to watch jun." you giggle again, unable to hide your giddiness. you really do miss laughing and joking with him like this. maybe you're more excited for dinner than you're letting on.

"okay, i'll spare him. i'll see you saturday," you murmur, looking at him through your lashes. san sweeps one last glance over you, like he's committing it to memory and storing it away until he can see you again.

"i'll see you saturday, baby."

[tzuberry]

after classes with zerobaseone maknae line υ´• ﻌ •`υ

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, diff tropes and scenarios for each member, established relationship (ricky, gunwook), f2l (gyuvin, yujin)

cw none ⠀⠀⠀wc 699 748 654 787 respectively (2888 in total)⠀⠀⠀reading time 12 min

note if you are the one who liked this post when tumblr accidentally posted it you are a real one but i am sorry you had to see that. anyway ... this is my return to zb1 tumblr since 2023 + short explanation! ricky’s and gunwook’s fics are calmer because they’re in established relationships, to give off a sense of constancy - gyuvin’s and yujin’s are exaggerated because they’re not, to give off infatuation 🙏🏻 these r not very good but i hope you like them!

masterlist navigation

ricky 리키

RICKY HAS not once had a problem with picking you up in his car, despite not going to the same school. You’d always wondered how he found enough time and energy after classes to endure the twenty-kilometer, forty-five-minute drive from his school to yours, especially with how prevalent and severe the traffic was in the city you lived in.

You’ve repeatedly told him—borderline reprimanded—that he’s never had to do this, and that you can make the effort home all by yourself. Ricky’s always replied with a shrug and an excuse about how he likes doing this for you, even if your high schools were in completely opposite directions from the heart of the city.

As your class ends today, you fully expect him to be there, waiting in front of the gate in his wildly expensive bright red car (which used to embarrass you slightly when he pulled up, but you’ve gotten used to it) with a warm smile on his face and a drink in hand for you. Amongst the hurried footsteps of your peers, you manage to find a way past them and straight to the exit, eager to find your boyfriend’s familiar face in the crowd of other students dismissed the same time as you.

It might sound a little hypocritical of you, but even though you didn’t hold it to a standard of Ricky to pick you up everyday, it still made you feel happy inside whenever he did—which has been everyday since the new semester started.

Without fail, the moment you step outside the bounds of campus, your boyfriend is there waiting for you in the expensive bright red car you expected him to be in, with two strawberry lattes in his front seat cup holders visible through the window—one being intended for you.

He unlocks the door as you walk up, waiting for you to fasten your seatbelt and settle in before he shifts the gear stick to drive.

“How was your day?” he inquires, coming to a halt at the first stop light. He pulls the straw of your latte from its spot in the small compartment on the door panel, poking it through the wrapped paper and putting it into the drink for you.

You take a sip when he hands it to you, gulping down before replying. “Good, actually! My teacher was sick and didn’t show up, so I had an entire period to catch up on assignments,” you say. “What about you?”

“Good now that I’m with you,” he answers, shrugging. “My presentation didn’t really go so well, and I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

The school he attended was a notoriously strict, high-standard international school that was practically established to cater to company heirs and others alike—and Ricky was no exception to that. However, it meant that he was also held to a higher standard than most students the same age, and you knew that your schedule and school were more lax than his.

“Let’s get some sleep,” you suggest. He simply hums in agreement as the traffic light turns to green, putting his focus back on the road while accelerating.

You get to Ricky’s house not long after that, greeting his mom before making a beeline to his room. You both sneak under the covers of his bed, and take a minute to talk a bit more about each of your days before settling in fully.

Your boyfriend’s hesitation is palpable, and you’re sure it’s because he feels a little guilty for sleeping when you would usually spend time (awake) together after classes. But his eyelids are betraying him, and his eyes are shutting as the conversation pursues, so you resolve to let him know it’s alright.

“You can go to sleep, I’m okay,” you assure him. “I’ll wake you up later.”

Ricky nods. “Thanks a lot, [Name].” He sinks down into the mattress a bit more. “I love you.”

“Just get some sleep,” you quickly respond. “I love you too.”

You often wondered how your boyfriend always had the energy to pick you up everyday, and today you got your answer—he doesn’t. He’s just been able to find the energy because it was you, and now you know how lucky you are.

gyuvin 규빈

GYUVIN’S UNSURE when this arrangement between the two of you started. It was majorly unspoken, even from the beginning—after class, you would follow the languid crowd of students to the main gate, and you’d find him waiting by the potted camellia plant placed adjacent to the cement post near the opening of the school.

Then, you’d stop by the 7-Eleven around the corner for your fix of ice cream (if you felt like it; if not, the row of frozen yoghurt shops and local coffee pop-ups across were just as inviting). He would offer—no, insist on paying—and you would engage in a back-and-forth about how it shouldn’t be this way, that you should just let him pay, because, you know... he wants to.

And then it’s bittersweet—literally. For some reason, you always pick some kind of wack flavour that Gyuvin has no interest in. Today, it’s limited-edition Baskin Robins espresso-flavoured ice cream in a 4-ounce cup. You probe him to try at least half a spoonful of it, and he does, noting the bitter top note of the taste. He also notes that you let him use the same spoon you used just now, which somehow makes the ice cream come off a bit sweeter on his tongue.

Gyuvin doesn’t remember when all of this became a daily thing. You weren’t even classmates a year ago, much less friends; how did this... happen between you two?

You’ve begun your trek home, side-by-side (him nearer to the street, of course), when he realizes this all started because you live two blocks apart. What he still doesn’t know, though, is why you’ve both kept this routine up for so long.

Whatever. Gyuvin shakes off the thought with a literal shake of the head, tuning back in to what you were saying. He divides the focus of his gaze between you and the path ahead.

“... I suck at the sciences, and, you know, Park Gunwook, all-knowing science genius is always out to get my top 1 spot in class. I’m so—” You groan. “Frustrated!”

He chuckles. “I’ll sabotage him for you.”

“Oh, sure you would. You’d sabotage your best friend’s grades for some classmate.” Rolling your eyes, the notion almost makes you laugh. Gyuvin’s cute when he jokes like this; he always says he’d do all kinds of things for you, and it’s clearly an exaggeration, but it also makes you insanely giddy to believe that he could really mean what he says for a second.

You lick the mini wooden spoon in your hand clean of any remaining melted ice cream. “I hope you don’t tell Gunwook any of this, by the way. I kind of need him to tutor me in physics,” you not-so-sheepishly add, nudging Gyuvin’s arm with your elbow.

“Yeah, he won’t hear anything from me. My loyalty lies with you only,” he jokes.

“I’d hoped so,” you reply.

Then, as per usual, the rest of the walk is silent—with many mumbled warnings from him whenever you cross the road. He’s made it a point to notify you of oncoming vehicles or any potential hazards (like a puddle you can slip in or an obstacle you might trip on). You’ve observed he’s always had that habit, and even though you’re well aware of the ground you walk on yourself, you don’t mind it too much; it just means that he cares for your safety.

Gyuvin’s house is short two blocks in the journey to and fro the school compared to yours, meaning your house is farther away and further behind his. Still, since the first time he walked you home, he’s never complained of the extra steps he takes past his house on the way to yours and the ones he takes back to his after he’s dropped you off.

Today is just like any other day. You arrive at your doorstep, and he hands you the backpack he decided to carry for you halfway into the trip home.

You sling a strap over one shoulder before looking up at him again. “Same time tomorrow?”

Gyuvin nods, a small smile on his face as he affirms your statement. “Same time tomorrow.”

He waits for you to close the door after stepping inside, and then he pivots his heel ninety degrees back towards his house. He’s sure it’s only him, and it must all be in his head, but the air between you has shifted. He might even know why he still chooses to walk you home after all this time.

gunwook 건욱

GUNWOOK AND your favourite time of day is the period just before dusk, when you’ve finished studying together for the afternoon and head up to the—more often than not—restricted rooftop of your school building.

You’re aware that your boyfriend can get in trouble (and perhaps lose his status as class rep) by sneaking up to a blocked-off area of the school, so these visits have become a lot less frequent over the past few months; despite this, you’ve viewed the rooftop as one of your favorite places even though you’ve only been there with Gunwook, and not as frequently as you did before.

To you, whenever you were up there with the boy you loved and held so dearly to your heart, time seemed to slow—you’d take your places on the floor, knees close to your chests as you stared up at the sky, awaiting the sunset and subsequent dusk to fall on you both.

There have been some days that have served as exceptions to the rooftop being exclusively your and Gunwook’s spot, though, like when you feel the desire to be there yourself on the occasion your boyfriend can’t join you due to a prior engagement—a day like today.

The rooftop offered a view of the Seoul skyline, with your school being established strategically near the middle of the city. The breeze was colder in higher places, and it ruffled your hair as it blew past you.

Gunwook assured you that he’d meet with you after he finished something up for the incoming school festival. You admired your boyfriend for being so hardworking and kind towards everyone, even when you and he both knew he felt pressured most of the time.

And at this moment in time—the rooftop doesn’t feel as special to you alone in comparison to when Gunwook is here to accompany you. The view is still breathtaking, and the winds hitting your face are refreshing, but time isn’t slowing down for you like it does when you’re with him. This is your spot together, after all.

A tap on your shoulder wakes you straight out of your thoughts, and you turn to see a smiley Gunwook preparing to sit down beside you on the floor. When he has, he inches closer to you so you can lie your head on his shoulder the way he knows you want to. Then, the motion of your hands finding each other is almost automatic; he begins to stroke the back of your hand in circular movements with his thumb.

“So, how long have you been up here, huh?” your boyfriend teases, flashing his gummy smile and earning a light chuckle from you. “Since you left me to go do your student council thing,” you respond, scoffing.

Gunwook laughs. “Hey, I think you’ll enjoy the school festival when it happens. We even got that bungeoppang seller outside that you like so much to come in,” he tells you, “I just have one thing to do on festival day—and then, after that, I’m free and we can sneak off up here.”

“What do you have to do on festival day?” you ask.

The boy next to you giggles, knowing that what’s about to come out of his mouth is too cheesy for how long you’ve been dating (which was about to be three years soon). “Take a picture with my [Name], of course.”

You can’t even begin to digest that overly exaggerated sweet statement, and you rip your hand away from Gunwook’s jokingly. “You’re so...” You shake your head in feigned disapproval. “Cheesy.”

“I am, but it’s only for you,” he says, beaming.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you brush it off, lips curving into an upward crescent. “If other people knew you said this kind of stuff to me, they’d never see you the same way again.”

Gunwook rolls his eyes, now throwing his arm over your shoulder. “I’m lucky it’s just us here then.”

yujin 유진

YUJIN’S BEEN athletically inclined since elementary school, and you’d be lying to say you weren’t envious of him sometimes. With training and his becoming popular overnight when the first semester of tenth grade started, though, it’s undeniable that he’s been perpetually busy.

So, whenever your long-time best friend does get the time to spend with you, you make the most out of it and do something memorable together; however, you could never really tell when his high school varsity coach would schedule a last-minute training session and ruin your plans.

Today is... unfortunately one of those days. You’d taken a bit of time to plan a hang out consisting of a late afternoon stroll through the park, then dinner at a restaurant you stumbled upon recently Yujin hadn’t tried yet but served his favourite food. You knew this was all in vain, though, when just as the bell rang, you found him at the foot of your classroom door, holding a drink from the vending machine as an “I’m sorry” gift to express his regret (and guilt).

He grins an awkward, strained grin when you make eye contact. “[Name], I know you had something planned out today, but—”

“It’s okay, Yujin. We can do it another time,” you say, taking his hand in yours and starting to walk away from the door.

“Really?” he questions. “I hate doing this to you, and I’d spend all my time with you if l could, because, you know, you’re...” he pauses, visibly deliberating what to say, “you’re my best friend, and I don’t want to make you feel like our friendship is one-sided because it’s not, I don’t want it to be, and we’ve been friends since middle—”

Due to the frequency of this kind of thing happening, you’ve grown accustomed to it. The first few times your best friend bailed on you, you felt hurt (and maybe upset), but it’s happened enough times now that it doesn’t faze you anymore.

You stop in your tracks, facing Yujin. “It’s really okay,” you repeat, dropping his hand. You understand that he has his own obligations, and you could take no other course of action than to give way; moreover, you’d known for a while that since approaching high school, your friendship would be different. Things were bound to change, anyway.

He winces. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” you answer. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Okay.”

You decide to spend the two hours Yujin’s at practice to finish all your due assignments—but it’s hard to devote yourself entirely to organic chemistry when all you can do is think of him. You’d liked your best friend since the summer of ninth grade.. and you’re in eleventh now. Evidently, you’ve never told anyone, much less Yujin himself, and it’s starting to take a toll on you... and so does simply thinking about it. So, to avoid giving your feelings any more thought than you already have, you put down the black Muji pen you’ve been using to revise your notes and surrender to sleep.

When Yujin finds you, your eyelids are closed and you’re lying down on your left arm, head turned to the right. The homework he presumes you were trying to do is sprawled out across the table messily, but your pen still has a place in your hand. He wonders how long you’ve been asleep, mimicking your position this time facing you. Not long after, he falls asleep staring at you.

When you wake up, your eyes feel like they’ve been glued shut. You can’t flutter them open as easily as you usually can, and even when you do, your vision is clouded and hazy. Still, you can make out the sleeping Yujin resting his head on his forearms and facing you—sure, your eyelids had a hard time fluttering, but your heart didn’t (as clich�� as that sounds). Sitting up, you click your phone on and discover that it’s an hour past the time he finished practice. He must’ve fallen asleep waiting for you to wake up; you fell asleep waiting for him.

You know you should probably wake him up, but you can’t help it and rest your head back down onto the table anyway. He looks really... calm this way; it’s nice. Your gaze flickers from one facial feature of his to another, then another, and so on. And then, suddenly, you remember why you’ve liked him for this long.

Yujin slowly wakes up, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair as he does. The second he becomes aware that you’re awake too, he jolts up.

“Come on, [Nickname]. Let’s go get dinner,” he invites.

You’re packing your things into your backpack when Yujin, who is standing awkwardly off to the side, interrupts. “I’ll skip practice next time—I’m sorry.”

[ivvyela]

imagine with me, if you will, a nwh potential fix-it involving none other than the multiverse saving duo deadpool and wolverine.

i know, i know - but please, let me cook.

wade and logan now jump across timelines to "fix" things aka travel the multiverse for funsies and deal with the consequences later and somehow end up in a universe where peter parker doesn't exist, but spider-man does. and wade, blessed with the power of "i know this for the plot", immediately knows that is bull. shit. and sure enough, they find one very depressed, very lonely, and very jaded peter parker.

after much annoyance, light stalking, and following spider-man while he's on patrol, they get peter to spill how he ended up in this situation. and after hearing everything, logan breaks the silence with a simple, yet effective: "shit, kid. that... shit."

"yeah, well... now you know, so you can, like, leave me alone."

"nope, not gonna happen." wade shakes his head and tactfully ignores logan's imploring look of what-the-fuck-are-you-getting-us-into-now "i take my job as marvel jesus very, very seriously, so frankly, this is my job to fix your sorry little life, buddy. and if flat-out telling them you exist didn't work, then - "

"oh, i actually... i never told them."

"...come again?"

"i tried to tell them, but i couldn't. so..."

"i'm sorry... your best friend and girlfriend were crying, telling you to come find them and remind them of you, and you chose not to?"

"they're happy and safe without me! i wasn't going to ruin - "

"oh my god. you sweet, self sacrificial, idiot spider-baby. okay! we can fix this! we're no tony stark, but consider us your pseudo daddies for the time being, kid. let's get you your life back."

which is how one very emotional and determined deadpool, followed by a stoic, nonchalant wolverine (who, in all honesty, probably should be completely against this, but once wade commits to something, he can't be talked out of it, and the sooner he gets his fix from this the sooner he can go home, so fuck it we ball), end up in a certain cafe, all up in a poor barista and her friend's face with a cut-out yearbook photo of some kid, yelling "LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT THIS BOY! HE'S SO LONELY! LIKE A SMALL, FORLORN, VICTORIAN CHILD! REMEMBER HIM, GODDAMMIT!"

(their efforts result in two confused and scared teens, and getting kicked out of said cafe.)

peter practically begs them to just leave him alone, that this was his choice, and he's fine with it, but both wade and logan know a lie when they hear one. they both know what being alone can do to a person, and peter is just a kid who got dealt the shittiest cards in life and at this point, it just feels wrong to leave him here without trying to do something. and maybe they both have a small soft spot for the teen, so what?

and peter knows both men can see through his broody, teenage angst front he's been putting up since the spell, and he's tried so hard to hate the two of them, get them to hate him so they would leave, but they're not budging, so really, there's no point in trying to push them away, right?

and so, he lets them in. he learns that while logan is stoic and intense and kinda terrifying, he's also someone who just wants to do the right thing for the people he cares about. he's also lost people, and he blames himself, but he's come out on the other side. he would tell peter about his daughter, laura, who wouldn't let him wallow in self pity because she is good, better than he has ever been. he never saw himself as a father, but she's still around, so he must be doing alright.

and at first hearing it would result in a pang in his chest, memories of thai food after walking into a smoke-filled kitchen, assurances that things will work out when everything feels hopeless, a tombstone that can never convey everything she was, but now... it's nice to hear that logan still had someone after losing everyone.

so, peter listens to logan's stories. in return, peter tells logan all about his mom.

and wade was brash and loud and conceded and really, really annoying, but he's... no, that's it. he's all of those things, but in a weird way, it's like all those bad qualities merge together to make him a good guy. and yeah, he can walk away at any point, he has absolutely no obligation to help peter, but he does it anyway.

("nonono, don't you dare make me some selfless hero type, kid. i know for a fact that every deadpool has a peter. i'm doing this for the me in your world."

"you're... huh?"

"bottom line, i'm a selfish bastard. i'm doing this for me, 'kay?")

peter didn't fight it. he's had experience with seemingly self-absorbed, deflecting type heroes.

wade doesn't replace him, not even close, but... still.

maybe peter will never get back what he lost. but, for the first time, peter sees a light at the end of the tunnel. that, maybe, he can stop being just spider-man, and he can start being peter parker again, too.

(and if there's a barista talking to her friend about how it's weird that two guys would show up holding a photo of an odd customer from weeks ago, demanding they remember him, and despite not knowing him she felt something, and her friend couldn't help but agree, well... that's neither here nor there.)