#im hoping they dont read the tags lol

[clowningaroundmars]

heeyyy yaaalllll

so i was thinking to myself, i love punkflower. i really do.

what if there was a hobie in miles' universe and he didnt have to do the whole long distance relationship across dimensions thing, though? just keep his lil secret crush on spiderpunk a secret and keep it pushing, only to literally bump into his own hobie brown in 1610 one day?

wouldnt that be cool, guys?

wouldnt it? :)

wouldnt :) it :) be :) so :) cool? :) and so cute too?

:)

update: >part 2 here<

Miles was late.

It was his first day back, the very beginning of his junior year at Visions Academy and he was late. God damn.

His parents were really gonna kill him this time, no doubt about it. There weren't even any good Spiderman excuses he could use to weasel his way out of getting into trouble this time! He'd just have to cross his fingers and pray that his chemistry teacher for this year wasn't a total hardass like last year's English teacher.

Maybe he could make up some dumb excuse this time, try to wriggle his way into the professor's good graces with some blatant lie. Anyways, whose dumb idea was it to put him in a class so damn far from the entrance doors so early in the mor--

BRRRRRRING!

Miles tore around a corner just as the final bell rang throughout the mostly-empty hallways, inciting panic in his chest and making him nearly launch himself down another hallway just to get to his class.

In his haste, he nearly knocked over a very tall and very... familiar looking person that happened to be in Miles' trajectory. Luckily, bodies didn't end up colliding but the shock of having a person fly so quickly into their line of sight shocked the both of them into skidding to a sudden stop.

The tall person ended up dropping a textbook and what seemed like an enormous packet of papers, because sheets scattered absolutely everywhere, almost like snow.

Ugh. Of course.

They both stared down at the mess in the middle of the hallway floor for a beat.

Then, Miles exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.

"Aw man, I-I'm sorry! I just uh... here, lemme just--"

They both bent down to quickly scoop up the papers as Miles stuttered and spoke a hundred miles a minute, trying to apologize for the heart-stopping scare he caused. Just as Miles shuffled the papers together in his hands, he finally looked up at the unlucky student he almost football-tackled first thing in the morning... and nearly dropped the papers onto the floor again.

Kneeled right in front of him with papers and a textbook tucked under a skinny arm, long fingers nervously plucking up what was left of the rest of the packet, was none other than... Hobie Brown.

Oh. God.

This Hobie didn't seem to be Miles' Hobie, though.

(Miles' temperature rose a bit as he quickly thought: wait, my Hobie? That's not right, either.)

Instead of large freeform locs that tapered off like wicks, he was sporting long uniform locs that were piled up high in a loose ponytail on his head, most likely due to the school policy that stated boys needed to have hair above the nape of their neck. Miles kinda wondered about that policy, if he ever decided to grow out his hair; would pulling his hair up be enough? Or would they police his hair length and force him to cut it all off?

Well, turns out the answer was literally right in front of him. Another shock to the system right after the first one.

That was Miles' excuse, really. It was just so dang early in the morning and he really really wasn't thinking when he opened his mouth and basically shouted "Hobie?!"

It honest to god sounded like it echoed in the hallway.

He slapped a hand over his mouth, immediately chastising himself for the stupid mistake he made, mentally kicking himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!! He wasn't supposed to know this guy obviously, they hadn't even met in their dimension yet!

Hobie, for his part, didn't seem perturbed by this at all though. He took the papers from Miles' hands and straightened himself back up to his full height, offering a hand so that Miles could stand up too.

He shrugged shyly and hid behind a couple locs that happened to fall back into his face, holding the books and papers closer to his chest.

"Uhmmn yeah, sorry. I-I'm runnin' late to my first class so I can't really give any autographs right now. Maybe later... if we see each other, ok?"

Miles blinked owlishly. Did he just say... autographs?

And wait a minute... was this Hobie... American?

Miles' poor little sleep-deprived mind was being blown again and again. He really didn't know if he was ever going to recover from this.

Hobie started to back up and walk away so Miles held his hands up to stop him. "Wait wait wait, autographs? I'm not uh-- sorry, this is weird," he laughed, rubbing his neck. "Nah, man. That's cool. I don't really want any autographs. Are you uh-- are you famous, actually?"

It was this Hobie's turn to blink owlishly now, hesitating a bit. A non-pierced eyebrow was raised as he said, "I... I kinda am...?"

He turned and pointed out the giant window of the hallway that they happened to be standing by, and Miles craned his neck to peer outside.

It smacked him right in the face once his eyes landed on it: a giant billboard fixed atop a neighboring building that depicted Hobie Brown in a luxurious-looking perfume ad. He sported the same locs as he did in real life, wearing shiny-looking makeup and giving the viewer the fiercest, smokiest look Miles has ever seen from a model in a hot minute. He was clutching deep purple satin, wrapped in it, basking in it. A single perfume bottle with a deep purple bow on the neck was photoshopped next to him, matching the overall vibe of the ad.

Miles was rooted to the spot, absolutely gobsmacked. How in the world did he miss that?!

Distantly, a small echo of a conversation he had in what seemed like a lifetime ago floated up from a memory. "I was briefly a runway model" pulsed in his neural pathways for a quick second.

Slowly, the gears started turning in his head. Slowly, he turned back to his dimension's Hobie Brown, who was giving him a strange sort of look.

Miles awkwardly tried to gather himself up, waving his hands around as he struggled for a non-weird explanation to his very weird behavior.

"I-I mean-- ahahaha! Yeah I mean, obviously you're famous! I was just y'know-- playin' with you. Pulling your leg and all that, I guess... heh."

The strange dubious look on Hobie's face didn't budge. "...Right."

Miles coughed conspicuously, trying to change the subject. "But uh yeah, haven't seen you around this school much then! Are you... you in a different grade than me or...?"

The corner of Hobie's mouth twitched suddenly, and for a split second Miles wondered if he said something wrong.

But then Hobie chuckled a bit. "No, I don't think so? This is my first day here. Like... ever. So I'm not really surprised you haven't seen me before. I just transferred over."

Miles practically sighed in relief and nodded, hands in his pockets. "Right! Right, very cool. Welcome to Visions then, I guess. Uh... I'm Miles! Miles Morales. Nice to meet ya!"

He goofily stuck a hand out, which Hobie actually accepted. They shook hands for a second, and then Miles was suddenly taken aback by how cold his hand was against his own skin. It was a definite contrast to the warm and lanky body he remembered practically draped across his own, back in Mumbattan.

He forced those particular memories away for now.

This Hobie was smiling down at him, sad eyes set inside a seemingly genuine expression of fondness. "Cool. I'm Hobie. But, uh, it seems like you already knew that, so."

"Aha, yeah yeah! It just-- honestly it's just the shock of, uh, running into a major celeb in the middle of my school that really got to me, I think. Sorry. I probably look like a total weirdo right now!"

Hobie shook his head, and Miles took the opportunity to really study this guy now that the shock was over and the vibe was more chill. This Hobie was just as long and lanky as the punk anarchist Miles was already well acquainted with, but he held himself completely differently. Where Spider-Hobie was all confident strut and careless swagger, this Hobie seemed to be all reserved grace and... sadness? He definitely reminded Miles of a willow tree drooping down into a lake, beautiful but tragic at the same time.

Okay Miles, get it together, he thought, stop thinking this guy is beautiful. I mean, he is beautiful yeah... but c'mon man, focus!

Hobie's non-pierced lips were moving now, finishing a sentence that Miles most definitely did not catch.

Then, Hobie looked at him expectantly.

Oh shit. He just asked a question didn't he? Fuck.

"Uh, sorry... one more time?" Miles grinned as wide as he could, apologetic. Nice going, Morales, the humorless voice in his head chimed in. Definitely not convincing this guy you're an alien from outer space or anything!

Hobie huffed a laugh and cleared his throat. "Sorry, my fault. Sometimes I mumble and... yeah. Mom says I need to work on that," he sighed, then continued, "I was just wondering if you knew where room 301 was?"

Miles nearly jumped with the force of the realization that just hit him.

"301? Mr. Moriarty's class?"

"Y-yeah, that's the one," Hobie smiled, twirling a loc on one finger and tugging it a bit. Then he tucked it back behind his ear. "I'm actually so lost it's not even funny, I'm godawful at directions and like, navigating. I've been looking for it for like 20 minutes now--"

"That's where my first class is too! AP chem!"

Hobie seemed to brighten up a bit at that, straightening his posture up from his own self-conscious hunch. "Oh cool! We should probably get going then, if we don't wanna be more late than we already are."

Without thinking, Miles places a hand on Hobie's shoulder and steers them both towards a classroom right at the end of the hallway they were in.

"Of course, right this way! Pretty lucky you ran into me, huh? I can help you find your other classes later on if you want, too."

For the first time since nearly crashing into him, Miles looked up at Hobie and saw genuine happiness in his eyes as they grinned at each other and walked down the hall together.

"...Yeah," Hobie said, nodding slowly. "Yeah that'd be pretty cool. Thanks!"

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

Their chemistry teacher ended up not being a total hardass after all! Especially when Miles rolled up with none other than Famous Model Hobie in tow, immediately causing a ripple of whispers amongst the students sat at their desks.

Mr. Moriarty was a short and stumpy old man with a kind face and a severely receding hairline. He took one look at Hobie after squinting at his attendance sheet, accepted Miles' quick explanation that they were late because Hobie's minty fresh enrollment got him all lost in these maze-like hallways, and excused their tardiness with a wave of a hand.

"It's the first day and you were very kind to help a new student out, Mr. Morales. You're both excused for today, but try not to make a habit of it, alright?"

Miles bobbed his head as he picked his way past rows of desks. "Absolutely, sir. No problem at all. Thanks a bunch!"

Hobie stuck close to him, and smiled a bit as the only two desks left empty in the whole room happened to be right next to each other, right up in the back of the class. Nice.

They took their seats and exchanged a couple of glances as they pulled out their notebooks, barely listening to their professor's quick introduction and class syllabus. Well, Miles was barely listening, anyways. He was too caught up in the euphoria of running into a dimensional variant of one of his friends, in Visions Academy no less! His mind started to wander a bit. Did a 1610 Gwen exist too? a 1610 Pavitr? Were they also here at Visions? And what was with these random stares he and Hobie were getting from their fellow classmates right now?

Every now and then a student's head would swivel back to glance in their direction, awestruck looks evident on their faces.

How famous was Hobie anyway?

Of course, there was that giant billboard conveniently placed within view of the school's back hallways near a busy intersection, but Miles really started to think. He sneakily pulled out his phone and swiped down to the lowest brightness he could in case the classroom's fluorescent lighting wasn't enough to hide the phone screen's own light.

He kept his face straight forward, eyes flicking to and from his typing that he was trying to conceal behind the student sitting in front of him. He typed Hobie Brown model, Hobie Brown perfume ad, Hobie Brown supermodel, getting absolutely nothing every single time. Well, nothing that looked like the Hobie Brown sitting next to him, who happened to be dutifully scribbling down some notes in his notebook. Miles looked down at his own empty sheet of paper and quickly copied his new friend, whipping out a pencil and hurrying to catch up with the lecture on the whiteboard before the professor moved on.

Groan. What gives? Was Hobie this super accomplished, totally famous supermodel or not? Maybe he wasn't on social media, oddly enough. Maybe he just started an illustrious career and happened to be famous only in Brooklyn right now? No, that didn't make sense. If he was some small-time influencer or whatever, people would not be asking for autographs so often that Hobie would just automatically assume anyone who recognized him wanted one. And the looks on these other kids' faces convinced Miles that... maybe something was missing. Maybe he's just not searching up the right terms?

Agh, if only Spiderman business didn't keep him totally detached from reality sometimes. He really felt like he and the rest of the world were on totally different planets. If he had any friends besides Ganke, he probably would've heard about Hobie by now.

He bit his lip in concentration, trying to multitask between forming theories and keeping up with the lesson in the front of the classroom.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of eyes staring straight at him that didn't belong to the other classmates he barely even knew. He glanced over at Hobie, who quickly looked away.

Was that... an embarrassed look on his face just now? Miles scratched at his jaw a bit, more confused than before.

That was weird. Whatever. Anyways...

Before long, class was over and the bell rang. Miles and Hobie both meandered slowly up to the door and hung around the outside, leaning against the wall as they compared schedules before they had to make their way to their next class.

"Dang," Miles lamented, clutching his own schedule and moving to slot it into the cover of his binder. "Looks like we don't share any more classes besides 1st period..."

Hobie stopped his hand and squinted at the sheet again, glancing back at his own. "Uhmm... nah, actually. I think we might have 6th period together? Right after lunch."

"Do we share a lunch period too, actually?" Miles asked excitedly.

Hobie made a small noise of triumph, a smile playing over his lips. "Yeah! 1st, lunch and then 6th. Okay. Better than nothing, right?"

Miles chuckled, shoving his schedule into the plastic and tucking it under his arm. "Definitely. We can eat together at the cafeteria if you want! I'll walk you to your next class though, since it's basically right around the corner."

Hobie shrugged his own backpack back onto his shoulder and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. His eyes were cast downwards as he grinned at the floor and said, "yeah, if you don't mind... that'd be pretty cool."

This guy sure does like the word cool, Miles thought, and away to Hobie's next class they both went. They both ignored the various whispers and stares in their direction. Miles was already used to it by now.

They walked together amiably, in near lockstep for a little while before Hobie finally spoke up again.

"... So... if you don't mind me asking... why are you so nice to me if you didn't know I was famous, then?"

It was an innocent enough question, but it kinda caught Miles off guard nonetheless.

He laughed nervously. "Uhh ahaha, whaddya mean? I did know you were famous! I just... y'know my brain doesn't work the best real early in the morning. I'm, uh. Sometimes I can be pretty weird, if you haven't noticed by now."

Hobie nodded slowly, digesting this information for a bit. "Yeah, you did recognize me in the first place, I guess. It's just weird, you're like... the first person I met that doesn't look at me like I'm made out of solid gold, though. That's all..."

They exchanged glances again, and Miles' brain was working into overdrive, thinking of an appropriate response.

Before he could open his mouth, they finally reached their destination and Hobie bumped Miles' shoulder with his arm, smiling.

"So, thanks. For, uh... this. All this."

Miles raised a brow at him. "Oh yeah, this is nothing. I just walked you over to your next class, no biggie. My class is right over here anyways, so--"

Hobie laughed and shook his head, the expression lighting up his facial features unlike anything Miles has seen on that face yet.

"No, Miles. Not just this. I mean, like..." Hobie dipped his head, a bashful sort of move. "I mean, like, being nice to me. Like forreal. I really appreciate this."

They looked at each other for a moment, something real warm growing in Miles' chest all of a sudden, something... familiar.

He was just about to casually brush the gratitude off a second time with a dorky quip, before some girl's screechy voice interrupted their private little moment out of nowhere. It honestly startled them both, and the nice warm atmosphere dissipated immediately.

"Oh. My. GOD!! Is that Hobie Jones? Like actually?!"

She giggled and bounded up to them, blatantly ignoring Miles to insert herself between them and crowd into Hobie's space. She coquettishly asked for a selfie with him, promising to tag him on social media. The sudden commotion unfortunately attracted some other students who then took their cue to also bother Hobie for autographs, selfies, throwing compliments left and right.

Miles backed up out of the crowd, eyes still on Hobie as he watched the poor guy metaphorically slip on a mask, the very same that Miles saw when they first met not 2 hours ago. It was a sad, detached sort of look, and Hobie was forced to hunch in on himself to meet his fellow students' heights as they snapped selfie after selfie. His lips formed a smile all the while. His eyes did not.

A pang of sympathy hit Miles as he slowly turned away and made his way down to his own classroom without so much as a goodbye. He shrugged to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, he knew how that felt, just trying to mind your own business and live your life, do what you have to do-- and being stopped by nearly every living being within a 50 ft radius wanting their photo ops and their babies kissed.

Miles smiled to himself as he shouldered his way past other students and sauntered into his class, right on time. The bell rang as he reached his desk, and he pulled out another notebook out of his bag before the realization finally hit him with the force of a truck.

Wait... Hobie JONES?!

Miles quickly glanced around at his surroundings and mentally kicked himself yet again for choosing a seat so close to the teacher's desk, almost right up at the front. Damnit!

But the teacher wasn't in the classroom just yet, most likely making a quick run down to the printer down the hall to make copies of the class syllabus or something.

Okay, Morales. Gotta be quick.

He hastily pulled out his phone yet again, one eye on the door. He quickly typed in Hobie Jones model in his browser's search box, letting out a breath as search results loaded up and gave him exactly what he was looking for this entire time.

Bingo.

Hobie's face popped up in the image search previews, all sorts of cool and striking photoshoots lit up in all kinds of different ways. And the very first link at the top of the page? Hobie's own Flickstagram.

With a shaky hand, Miles tapped the link and impatiently waited for it to load, for his phone to get with the program and just open the damn app already. He kept glancing every so often at the door yet again, praying that the printer or copier-- or whatever-the-hell that was keeping the professor away from the class-- would keep them away for just a second longer.

He finally cast his gaze back down onto his own Flickstagram app and his heart nearly dropped out of his chest.

At the top, right next to Hobie's own smoldering profile picture was his username: hobiemjones

hobiemjones... hobie m jones. Hobie M. Jones.

M.J.

Miles exhaled again and tucked his phone away in shock just as the classroom door opened yet again and all the students quieted down. This class's teacher made their way over to their desk, piles of papers in hand. They started to pass them out to the students in the front row, introducing themself and then going over the usual attendance policies.

Miles accepted the syllabus sheets with trembling hands, turning to pass them over his shoulder once he got his own, his mind running a hundred miles a minute.

Peter talked nonstop about his wife, whenever he managed to stop talking about his baby, that is. It was always MJ this, MJ that. Flashes of a middle-aged man staring forlornly at a picture of his then-ex wife-- grieving the one who got away-- raced across his mind's eye. His universe's own MJ standing at a podium, strong but deeply hurt as she addressed all of Brooklyn after Spiderman's funeral.

"She wanted kids and I... just wasn't ready," echoed over and over in Miles' mind. Of course, they're together now. But the way Peter talked about his divorce... oh god.

Wait... was Miles ready for kids? Were he and Hobie going to have a messy on-and-off again relationship that ended up with them having to care for a spider-baby just like Mayday?! Maybe even multiple spider-babies?!?!?

Miles loosened his tie a bit, sweating profusely.

The fact that neither Hobie nor Miles were equipped with the parts to make a baby together flew right over his head. No... instead, his mind skipped straight to marriage, messy emotional fights and inevitable breakups. How was he gonna juggle school, work, Spiderman stuff and a relationship all at once?!

Without realizing, Miles started hyperventilating.

No no no no no, cool it Miles. COOL IT. Don't be weird. Miles mentally slapped himself and tried to even out his breathing as he leaned back in his seat and wiped some sweat off his brow.

He just proved to Miguel O' Hara and the entire multiverse this past spring that he can do his own thing, canon events be damned. Miles Morales was no victim to fate. Maybe all of the other spider-people had their own MJs. But maybe in this universe, MJ and Spiderman were... just friends. Good friends! ...Yeah, yeah, just friends...

The idea floated around in Miles' head throughout the entire rest of the class, but it didn't really make the tightness in his chest loosen up any at all.

Once the bell rang again and everyone started packing their things up, Miles dawdled a bit by the door, fumbling with his phone as his classmates filed out of the room. If he was late enough, maybe he'd completely miss Hobie in the hallways and not have to see him at all. Miles double-checked, triple-checked his schedule again and again, mapping out an eventual escape route through the halls in case Hobie's path did intercept Miles'.

God, Miles thought ruefully, checking the hour on his phone for the 15th time in a row and smiling awkwardly at his teacher's questioning glance. You're being so fucking weird about this right now!

The rational part of his brain kicked in and presented a quick slideshow of other calmer, more reasonable explanations as to why he really shouldn't be avoiding his new friend like the plague all of a sudden.

1. Hobie probably doesn't and won't like me, it stated. There is literally no proof that Hobie Jones is even into guys. Or me, Miles Morales.

2. Even if Hobie Jones is into guys-- or me, Miles Morales-- that does not mean the endgame is automatically marriage. No sir, no proof of that at all!

3. Canon events were officially disproven. Kinda. Mostly. Sort of?

C'mon, bro. Just man up and get out there. You're gonna be late for the next class soon anyways.

Right. He inhaled deeply and steeled himself.

"Okay well, uh. Have a nice day Mx. Gonzalez! See ya... tomorrow." Miles cringed inwardly at how lame that sounded, but his teacher didn't seem to notice as they bid him a nice day as well.

With his heart in his stomach, Miles slowly made his way into the hallway and started walking at a brisk pace, keeping his eyeline straight in front of him, trying to reach his next class on the floor below quickly but manageably. It was when he reached the stairs that his heart sank even lower.

Hobie was standing right next to the stairwell, glaring at the school map placed on the wall off to the left, fingertips on his chin as he mumbled to himself. He was glancing up and down between the map and his schedule in his hand, clearly befuddled.

Damn, he really is bad at navigating, Miles mused, once he recovered.

But as luck would have it, tragedy struck right then. Miles being pretty much the only other kid in the hallway attracted Hobie's attention, and even though Miles' feet kept him moving, he almost tripped on air once Hobie perked up upon seeing him.

"Miles!" Hobie grinned and waved him over, clearly happy to see him.

Oh noooo. Miles was not as happy to see him.

Without thinking, he launched himself down the flight of stairs, hopping over the railing and landing loudly on the 1st floor. Once steady, he basically sprinted over to his 3rd period class, completely missing the way Hobie's sunny grin slowly disappeared and his hand lowered back down to his side.

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

Lunchtime came and went. Miles ate his packed lunch at his usual perch on top of the school building, where he always hid while trying to avoid the rest of the student body. He managed to pick a good spot away from prying eyes, and it never failed him.

Hobie ate alone, at a table tucked into the corner of the cafeteria despite being invited to several other tables. He sat and chewed sadly, locs back in front of his eyes, posture hunched over and defeated.

6th period came and went. Miles purposefully kept his gaze averted as Hobie walked in 5 minutes late. They sat at opposite ends of the room, never acknowledging each other's existence.

The school day ended and Miles made his way back to the dorms, sighing with relief once he glanced out the window and saw giant rainclouds rolling in over the horizon. Man, was he glad he got to bunk up on campus with his best friend! He greeted Ganke, kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto his bunkbed, laying back with a sigh. Maybe tomorrow he'd confront Hobie about his erratic behavior and apologize. Maybe.

But that was a problem for future Miles...

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

Outside, the rain started falling fast and hard.

Outside, Hobie M. Jones waited miserably by the curb with an umbrella in hand, getting drenched by the water nonetheless. He checked his phone for the 15th time and sniffled angrily, pocketing it and gripping onto his umbrella handle.

Late. Again.

His mother was late to pick him up, as usual.

He swiped at a tear rolling down his cheek and finally loosened his ponytail, letting his locs fall all around his face.

Once she arrived, his mother was going to inevitably ask him how his day was, look only slightly concerned about his angry tears and ask if he made any new friends anyways, despite knowing the answer.

No, mom, Hobie would say as he kept his eyes glued to the car window.

No. I didn't make any friends.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,

if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."

i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,

i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason

[acaciapines]

rereading random bits of descendants of olympus (as one does) and. vera <3 still soooo obsessed with how she takes lupa's divinity. like MAN.......there is something to how shes had to scrape and claw her way into every single good thing shes ever had. that she's never just been able to KEEP these things, that she is always always always fighting for them. and so of course she takes divinity. she wants to LIVE. and in this world where the fates themselves are trying to control her, its like--yeah. maybe you do need a gods power to finally get like, at least a year of the life you want. the life you werent supposed to have. forever thinking about vera's one line in her chapter thats like 'of course the fates are losing power. because they'd never let someone like leo into my life.' YELLS. FOREVER.

also have we talked enough about minnie I THINK WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT MINNIE--

[zumicho]

i really really really wanna read your smaus but smaus are so confusing to me for some reason (probably because i’m used to comprehensive writing) BUT do you have any… tips? help? for reading smaus 😭

find one u really like & get hooked!! read the cws and factlists bc they’re good context

[revasserium]

I'm being a rebel and requesting Ikesen Masamune and barefoot 💜

send me one and a character u__u

hurricane (prompt: barefoot)

masamune; 1,813; fluff and... that's it; @violettduchess is quite possibly one of the only ppl who can get me to write for a fandom that i had no plans in joining BUT HERE I AM FOLKS. here the fuCK i am.

he has always been a hurricane.

there are moments in a person’s life big enough for a single choice to put them on a completely different path, and then — there are those moments, much smaller moments, adding up to that one, bigger, monumental, life-changing moment. this is one of the latter.

the moon is heaven bright, swinging low in a full-bellied sky, and insomnia had plagued you till you’d come into the inner gardens for refuge. at least here, it felt like you were stuck between the pages of a waking dream. so… sleep-adjacent, right? right.

you swing your feet off the edge of the pristinely mopped wooden walkways, your sketchbook propped in your lap, a charcoal pencil gliding over the smooth, moon-bleached pages. you let your hand take the drawing where it wants, and these days, there’s only one place that your hand (and, subsequently the rest of your mind and body) seems to want to go.

masamune.

he appears as fish-tail flicks of your wrist bring him to life on the pages, each sketch fluid and overlapping with the next, almost like the depiction of dance — the crinkle at the edge of his eye, the curve of his hand as he rests it on the hilt of one of his blades, the strong, graceful slope of his shoulders and back, the crescent moon curve of his lips as he smiles, ever light, ever teasing, in your direction.

“ah… is that what i look like?”

his voice makes you jump, and even now after all this time, it sets your heart racing in your chest as you whirl around to find his nose inches from yours, that self-same smile hinged across his damnably gorgeous lips.

“w-wh — why aren’t you sleeping?” is your stumbling, cobbled together response to being jump-scared in the middle of his castle pagoda, but it’s the best you could come up with. he only leans back, chuckling, his arms tucked into the long thin sleeves of his kosode as he casts his eye up towards the full moon, his expression for once devoid if mischief or calculation. it’s strange, seeing him like this, so still and so quiet, and something about it makes you go still too, wondering if this is what its like to be caught in the eye of the storm, where the quiet is only ever momentary and destruction dances just beyond where your mind can reach.

“i could ask the same of you, kitten. so tell me… why aren’t you sleeping?” he grins as he joins you, propping one arm on a bent knee, watching as you gather yourself, palms pressing to the pages of your sketchbook.

“i… i couldn’t sleep.” you look down at your own knees, and it strikes you then that your feet are still bare. you can’t help glancing at masamune, and sure enough, his feet are bare too. no wonder i hadn’t heard him coming.

but something about this sets you off, the sight of his bare feet next to yours, and even though it shouldn’t be so tantalizing a thing — the flicker of bare flesh, the hint of skin unseen— you feel like one of those ancient victorian maidens, blushing at the sight of bare ankles.

you can’t help it; you start to laugh.

and masamune, sitting beside you, finds himself transfixed, held still by the sound of your laughter, pouring from you like rainwater from a stream. so clear and beautiful it sets his body arrack with shivers.

“what?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow, “is there something on my face?”

at this, you pause, stifling your giggles with a hand pressed to your lips, and you look at him. your eyes meet, and not for the first time, you feel yourself falling into them — into him. even like this, his one blue eye is something of a miracle, a thing of celestial majesty. it wasn’t until you’d met him that you’d realized what blue eyes look like up close — up close, they are the shattered light of a millions stars, fractured and reformed and singing through a universe of endless dark to end up here, shining out from him and landing on you, and god — he’s looking at you like all those million, billion years of starlight had traveled the expanse of every galaxy just to look at you.

just to see you like he does now.

“no… there isn’t,” you say, whisper, more like, reaching out a hand to trace your thumb over the lid of his closed eye. he doesn’t push you away. instead, he leans in closer.

“then, what’s so funny, kitten?”

you simply shake your head, trying to swallow down your belly-full of laughter, your mind showing you a strobe-quick flash-forward of you trying to explain the concept of foot kinks and websites that cater to such 500 years in the future before deciding — no. alas, tonight is not the night you try to educate one date masamune on the intricacies of body part kinks. though no doubt he’d take it in stride. no — that thought too, you tamp down before you’ve the mind to follow it down into a deep, dark rabbit hole from whence you might never recover or be recovered.

“tell me, please…” he grins, a grin that is simultaneously plea and pleasure, and in it, you can hear the knife-sharp promise of desire, “i’d like to know if something other than me has the power to make you laugh so much.”

“it’s just —” you bite your lips, fighting for the words, “we’re both barefoot.”

he blinks. and you can tell that whatever he was expecting the answer to be, this is clearly not it.

you track the flitter of emotions as they dance in quicksilver steps across the planes of his face — surprise, confusion, amusement, all painted porcelain perfect on the dark of his brows, the faint twitch of his lips. finally, he settles on a sorted of muted bemusement as he cocks his head at you.

“and… do people of your time tend to sleep with socks on?”

“no, it’s just…” you blush again, unable to help yourself.

“just what?” his voice is light, and he is still.

you swallow, hard,

“just… it’s weird — i mean — it’s not like i haven’t seen anyone else barefoot before just… this was — you’re just — and i —” you trip over your words in a hurry and end up tumbling through into incoherence so fast all you can do to styme the flood is to clamp your mouth shut and pray.

oh god please… tell me this is a bad dream.

but when you open your eyes, masamune is still there, watching you with that singular eye of his, expression inscrutable. and still, he doesn’t move.

“so…” and finally, finally, the stillness breaks — he cracks it open like an eggshell, stretching himself out as he leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, lengthening till he’s splayed out over the gleaming wooden boards of the walkway, his face bathed in ghostly moonlight.

“i’m not the first man you’ve seen barefoot, hm? that is a problem.”

your mouth drops open and for a moment, you gape at him wordless and fish-like, and he laughs as he turns to look at you.

“tell me his name — i’ll have his head in the morning,” he says, in a voice so casually serious that for a moment you think he might actually mean it.

“masamune!”

and then, he’s laughing too, a big, bright, uproarious thing that shakes his entire body like the foundations of the earth. it is deep and rich and lovely, warm and sweet as sun-kissed honey. you let yourself be swept up in his laughter, dropping into silent giggles, and then something louder, letting your shoulder bump into his, your bodies finally touching and then —

there’s a flurry of clothing, a shifting of weights. you find yourself pulled into him, tipping towards him like inevitability.

your sketchbook lays forgotten on the walkway next to you as masamune holds you close against his chest.

“ah… i really don’t like that…”

an entourage of tingles frissons through your body at his words.

“don’t like what?”

“the fact that you’ve seen someone else barefoot before. it bugs me.”

you peer up at him, lifting your head ever so slightly from his chest. he’s looking at you, and the sunrise-blue of his eyes are shadowed with something darker now, something decidedly less innocent than just the thought of bare feet.

“then… what will you do about it?” you ask, feeling the heat of his body, the solidness of him, the rightness of you between his arms.

“hm… are you teasing me, kitten?” his voice is gravel and earthquake and you’re emboldened by the sound, by the way his pupil dilates, the black hole at the center of every galaxy — gravity made solid, made real.

“yes,” you breathe, leaning up like a dare and he meets you gloriously, his lips hard and pressing and soft and pulling. there’s a fire unspooling at the base of your spine, stoked by the heat and truth of him, so close, too close — you break apart gasping. he grins, lynx-like and wolfish as he grazes his teeth along the column of your throat.

“good,” he says, sighing into your flesh as you arch up into him, your fingers curling into his hair as he flips the pair of you over. he pulls you beneath him and he is storm and thunder, he is rain and wonder — he is water to your desert skies, the sunlit days to all your moonless nights.

and as he makes to rend you into pleasure, into nothing more than ache and belonging, he pulls back with a bone-deep growl, a sliver of hesitation, of self-preservation.

“are… are you sure you want this?” that you want me? the echo is not lost on you.

and it’s not the first time he’s asked you the question, and you have a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last. but you reply as you had, once upon a time, in a distant, sun-drenched afternoon, when you’d been telling him about one of your favorite poems from your time.

you smile, tug him down for a kiss.

“yes,” you say, like you’d done on that long-ago afternoon, “i want you — i want this, masamune. because… I love you.”

“i will love you when you are a still day… i will love you when you are a hurricane.”

[lemedstudent2021]

Where should Jews live? Where do they belong? Where do you consider their native land to be? Honest question.

an honest question deserves an honest answer so here ya go:

Anywhere and everywhere. Jews- the followers of the Abrahamic religion Judaism- along with Muslims, Christians, Atheists, Sikhs, Vegans, and literally any human being under the sun have the right to live wherever they please (given certain criteria are met like visas and that it isnt a military station/ off limits area etc).

Yes my dear reader(s) you read that right; ones faith or lack thereof shouldnt be an obstacle in any aspect of ones life, be it medical services, education, job opportunities, so on and so forth. How novel.

That answers where they 'should' live (although I dont by any means impose anything on anyone; y'all do whatever as long as its legal and harms no one including yourself. God bless). Could is more accurate.

As for where they 'belong', this in my opinion is one of the beauties of religion: people from all walks of life can belong to a religion. Diversity lies at the heart of our existence as human beings and denying it is like denying the existence of the sun. Tolerance is a must if we are ever going to get along with each other. And this belonging isn't irrevocabley tied to geography. But I digress :)

Quick aside just so we're all on the same page: converting to a religion renders you just as valid and equal as someone born into a religion. Most if not all religions preach equality between their followers regardless of background, so i wont hear anything of 'oh theyre not real xyz' or 'they dont count' or any of that bs.

By this logic (religious demographics are, generally speaking, very diverse), there is no 'this set of people belong here, and those over there' ...and proof of that in a sense would be atheists/ agnostics; where would they 'belong'? Antarctica? Outer space? alright ill stop XD

If that were the case, most of the planet would be crammed in the Middle East lol [Syria, Jordan, and Lebanon alone are home to 34M (as of 2023), and the followers of the 3 main Abrahamic religions are an estimated 3.4B (as of 2020) globally. We wouldnt fit even if we used one of these]. Yeah nationality/ race/ ethnicity/ background influence and maybe even dictate one's religious identity, but it isn't the all or nothing we may think it to be.

Which brings us nicely to the next point, and here if you'll allow me i'd like to correct it to native land of Judaism (where it originated/ flourished/ spread whatever) as opposed to native land of Jews because as i mentioned above, a religion doesnt (or shouldnt) differentiate nor discriminate between its followers. By restricting them to one geographical location (and for some using it as an indicator of their authenticity) we do them great disservice as well as contradict the teachings themselves. A demonstration:

Im Jordanian right, (dad's maternal side are from bilad al sham; Syria) and im a born Muslim alhamdulillah. My dads Malaysian roommates from his uni days are also born Muslims (and have the best food lol, my all time favourite is lemak cili padi) and seperating us on the basis of them not being Arab or Middle Eastern is unislamic, intolerant, xenophobic, and wrong on every level. Alternatively, im just as Muslim as someone from Mecca or Medina. We're all Muslim. we are the world...

Circling back, Judaism the religion is native to the Holy land (I guess you can say it started in Egypt till it moved there but idk. Regardless), and Jews (adherants of the faith) can't in my humble opinion be fairly categorised as one monolithic unit... just like any and every other faith out there.

Another quick aside; this is merely a tumblr post that cant do the history and culture and intricacies and so much more of this matter a portion of the justice it deserves. I am but a tired medical student answering to the best of my abilities a question I was asked with my limited knowledge in theology and perspective in general, so do me a favour and keep that in mind. And to anyone reading this if you have questions or corrections or resources or anything you want to mention be my guest :)

If you're still here, I'm both grateful and amused. Here's what you probably came for, the piece de resistance if you will: 🍉israel🍉

Disclaimer: thanks for reading this far, but if you disagree in any way shape or form with any of the 30 human rights articles, you may as well stop reading and put your device through the shredder. Bigots, racists, fascists, anti vaxxers etc. dni

So far ive seen this idea, call it what you will, two times (which isnt a lot but its weird that it happened to me twice consecutively), that claims the freedom of Palestine equals a genocide of the Jews.

Er, no? No ma'am. One does not solve a genocide by comitting another genocide. What part of 'never again' are we missing here?

Before we get into politcal nominations and factions and other territories i dont plan on invading (pun intended) but might accidentally cross anyway (I forgot where i was going with this) i want to remind everyone that Judaism is not synonymous with Israel nor zionism (if u disagree with this go ahead and shred ur device too).

A refresher: Judaism is a religion, Israel is an illegal-occupying-apartheid-state, and Zionism is a movement/ ideology

So 'genocide of the Jews' is both wrong (diction) and more wrong (factually incorrect) in that the liberation of Palestine means freedom from oppression, discrimination, settler colonialism... the whole nine yards. Enough bloodshed already its been nearly 76 years.

When Netenyahu is eventually drop kicked out of office (and hopefully hung, drawn, and quartered for his plentiful warcrimes) what happens to the (illegal) citizens of Israel? Well first off, return the stolen homes and land to their rightful owners who have the keys (and documents if they werent tampered with or erased) to prove it.

As for the illegal-under-international-law settlements and new also illegal establishments; I have no idea what international laws will decree (not that I have that much faith in the judiciary system), but I assume they will be seized and evicted of the illegal tenants (how you like me now?) and given to those who have been displaced or homes ruined etc. because its theirs and theirs alone and it was unlawfully and cruelly taken away from them and not because the (remaining lol) former Israeli citizens can't or shouldn't live in palestine. they can go live somewhere where its legal. the priority is Palestinians tho.

What about the indigenous everyone else? As long as their houses aren't stolen or illegal they can should stay because its legal and its theirs and thats that. you cannot kick someone out of their home to give it to another (which was the basis of the creation of Israel.) because its ✨i l l e g a l✨

And the people who dont belong so to speak? I think this one's case by case; like I said at the very, very beginning; people have the right to live wherever as long as its legal and ok to do so regardless of faith or background, and no one should be denied their right to live in Palestine as a country like any other, but they certainly must be denied living in homes stolen and given to them because thats, say it with me now, illegal <3

[ravennory]

another tagg deyna doodle ^_^

[lilyimmsim]

guys sometimes i forget that other people are humans too. there is so much bad in this world - that is true. but there is so much good!!!!! there was a little girl dancing at church, so beautiful and carefree and happy it made me smile so much!! there were women, on the train, laughing and giggling over who knows what but they were human and just living!!!! a guy at a sports game just chatted to my brother + i, so kind, joking with us, laughing. he was also human!!! a woman on a plane with me - i've never talked to her and i never will again - offered me some of her chocolates!!

people are good and people are bad because we are human!!! i forget that sometimes but i think its important to try + remember !!!!

[gwyns]

Who is your favorite author

i might get called cringe for this but sjm is genuinely my favorite author. no other books get me as hyped as hers or have helped me through as many personal things. they'll always hold a special place in my heart <3

some of my other favorites include:

brianna sugalski (originally ya fantasy but rewritten as adult fantasy)

melissa wright (ya fantasy mostly with some ya paranormal mixed in)

morgan rhodes (ya fantasy)

and of course, one of the only other authors aside from sjm that made me full on bawl reading their books... miss crystal smith (ya fantasy)

on the topic of crystal's work, i may uh... have a slight obsession with bloodleaf

and it may have come to crystal's attention and she decided to preorder a copy of ebonwilde and surprise me with it wtf?? i'm still in shock over this

and send me some extra goodies alongside my ebonwilde preorder bonuses, like her sending me the two character cards i was missing from when greythorne was released (you can't really see it but it's that sleeve in the bottom right with writing on it lol)

oh! and she sent me her last bloodleaf arc and signed and personalized it for me. alongside a post card where she personally apologized to me about what she did to nathaniel and castillion (AS SHE SHOULD)

overall crystal smith is one of the nicest authors i've had the pleasure of interacting with and her books and characters mean so so so much to me. everyone go read them and talk with me about them PLEASE

[oceanwithouthermoon]

OKAY im posting this crappy wip kubosai one-shot because ive been lagging severely on writing... sorry if its cringe, its completely unedited rn</3

this is roughly 1800 words.. the actual wip is about 4000 LOL but i skipped a couple parts so this is about half the wip i guess..

Kusuo was sitting at his desk with his legs curled to his chest, glaring at nothing, when his phone dinged next to him. Already not in the best mood, he sneered as his eyes snapped over to the device. The noise had disturbed one of his favorite pastimes; being moody for no reason and doing nothing, and the bright light was equally disturbing. When he looked over, it also shone the time as "1:36am" which ruined his blissful unawareness of how long he'd been brooding. His unusually accurate internal clock could have told him that, really, but Kusuo would never pass up an opportunity to be mad about something stupid.

His eyes softened significantly when he caught sight of what the notification actually was. A text from contact name "Kuboyasu Aren" with no contact picture. Yeah, that was how Kusuo kept all his contacts. Super boring and super normal.

He clenched his teeth, trying to bring his anger from before back after realizing how much and how easily his mood lifted just reading his classmate's name.

His phone had gone back to a black screen before Kusuo could read the actual contents of the message, so he begrudgingly unfurled himself from his position with a heavy sigh. He planted his feet back on the floor just a bit too aggressively and swiped up his phone as he stomped over to his bed to flop himself down on it.

When he finally turned his phone back on, the notification read “3m ago” and he clicked on it.

The message read, “hey princess when u wake up do u wanna hangout ??!? could i come overrr tomorrow please”

Annoying lack and misuse of punctuation, but Kusuo has learned that this tends to be the norm in texting, especially with other teenagers. In all fairness, the way Kusuo texts isn't very conventional either. He made fun of Toritsuka’s severe overuse of emojis once, and then immediately got ganged up on by all of the self proclaimed ‘PK psychickers’ because he tends to overuse emoticons in the same way. He doesn't know how else to express himself over text, alright? He learned to text only from his mom, Akechi, and Aiura and this is just how it turned out.

And for your information, the stupid princess pet name was just some silly thing Kuboyasu had gotten in the habit of doing lately. Trust Kusuo when he says it's much more embarrassing when he says it out loud, especially at school, than when he texts it, though knowing that his name in Kuboyasu’s contacts was “My Princess :)” was probably even worse.

Anyway, Kuboyasu had clearly made the assumption that Kusuo would be sleeping at this hour. Well, usually he would be. Kusuo LOVES getting his sleep in, but he just so happened to have taken a very long nap earlier that day, so he had a late dinner, and subsequently a late dessert. So, his usually abnormally fast metabolism hadn't quite been rid of all the sugar and caffeine he'd consumed not long ago. A series of unfortunate events, really, which culminated in him not being tired enough to sleep yet. At least he got to get in his usual ‘angrily staring at nothing for no reason’ time that he accidentally skipped because of his nap, although that did just get interrupted too.

So finally, he responded to Kuboyasu with, “I'm awake. (-.-;) Sure, I guess.”

Kuboyasu read the message and began typing unnervingly quickly after it was sent. “really ?!?!? also y r u awake lol i thought u would be asleep hours ago”

The poor guy probably wasn't expecting him to say yes immediately. Kusuo usually would argue about it for a bit before giving in to the teasing and pleading of his self proclaimed friends. It was way too late (/early) to play that game right now though, he knew he would just say yes in the end anyway. It had nothing to do with him actually wanting to see the dumb former punk who he had been unusually close with lately.

The taller boy just GOT him in a way other people never did. His undying loyalty and honesty was a refreshing contrast from many of the other people the psychic was often forced to be around. Loyal, honest, strong, romantic, protective. Not that those last few things affected the way he interacted with Kusuo or anything…

Kusuo replied again, “Yes. And I usually would be, but… too much caffeine. (￣^￣)”

Another quick response, “lol thats totally something u would do.. since ur up, r u down to call right now ?”

“To call? It's almost 2am. ಠ_ಠ Why are YOU awake anyway?”

“lol i know i know but im so bored… i just cant sleep.. we can be quiet on the call, but id like to hear ur voice right now :)”

Good grief, ew. How disgusting. “Hm… okay. ∩(｡-_-｡)∩”

(Don't you dare ask Kusuo why his internal monologue is so different from what he actually replies with. It's definitely not because he's an unreliable narrator who doesn't want to admit to himself or anyone that he actually wants to talk to a boy. Why would that be the case? Don't be dumb.)

Kusuo forgot to turn his ringer off before Kuboyasu could call him, so despite entirely expecting the phone call, the loud ringing startled him into dropping his phone on his face. How embarrassing, all-powerful psychic drops his phone on his face at almost 2am.

He scrambled to pick it back up and answer it so that the noise wouldn't wake up his parents. It would be really easy for him to just lull them back to sleep with his telepathy the second they wake up, but it would be inconvenient and his dad might complain in the morning. About either remembering waking up or just about not getting a good night’s sleep.

He finally clicked the answer button, luckily before his parents could wake up, and held back a sigh as he held the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, princess!” Kuboyasu was speaking in a whisper yell, probably also a room away from his sleeping parents.

“Hello.” He tried to speak in a way that wouldn't give away the fact that he was recovering from a smack to the face. Phone calls were a bit awkward for Kusuo, since microphones didn't pick up on his telepathy so he had to use his actual voice to speak over the phone. He always just hoped people wouldn't notice the extra rasp to his voice, but the late hour might work in his favor in this situation.

“So what have you been up to?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Up at 2 am and you're just sitting there, doing nothing?”

“Yes, that's exactly what I've been doing. What else is there to do at 2am?”

“Well, I've been making the most of MY time, personally.”

“And how have you been doing that, exactly?”

“Thinkin’ about you.”

“...”

“...”

“... *snort*” Okay, how could that NOT make him laugh? He took the phone slightly away from his face and laughed into his hand.

“What?? It's true!” The idiot couldn't hold back his laughter either.

“Yeah, yeah, okay… whatever, you're such a pain…”

“Yeah? Am I?”

“Yes.”

“And yet, you're here talking to me at 2 am just because I asked you to? Admit it, you love it.”

“Tch. You really need to get over yourself, you know that?”

“Well. Humor me for a bit longer, will you?”

“You're desperate.”

“For you.”

Kusuo muttered into his hand, “Oh my god.”

“I wish I could see your face right now, I know you're blushing.”

“Yeah, right. Not like you can prove that.”

“You want me to?”

“What do you mean?”

“You want me to come over there and check?”

Kusuo could hear the smirk in Kuboyasu’s voice. The jerk knew Kusuo couldn't say no to him. They both knew this game. Kusuo would deny him just for show, even though they both know he wants to say yes, and Kuboyasu would tease the truth out of him. Well, fine. Kusuo could play this game.

“You want to sneak out of your house and into mine at 2am just so you can check how successful your teasing is?”

“Mhm. Not just that, I would do anything to see my pretty princess’ face right now. I'm bored, you're bored, the only solution is for the knight to rescue the princess from this ailment, obviously.”

“You're an idiot.”

“You want to see me, I know it.” And he did. Kusuo could hear shuffling over the phone. That asshole was probably already putting his shoes on, knowing Kusuo would say yes. “What, you scared to prove me right? You don't want me to see your pretty pink face right now?”

… Kuboyasu was good at this game. He knows that husky voice is fucking irresistible. To Kusuo, at least. “... Okay, okay. Only so I can prove you WRONG.”

He knew Kuboyasu was smiling, but then the mood settled a bit. “You serious, Saiki? I know I'm messing with you, but I won't pressure you if you don't wanna sneak me in. I mean, that's kinda a lot to ask now that I'm thinkin’ about it. I really wanna see you, but I wouldn't make you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, I've already made up my mind. Are YOU sure? You realize how late and dark it is, yeah? You can't just stroll the streets at 2 am, you're gonna get hurt.”

“Awee, you worried about me, princess? No need, your knight in shining armor can protect himself just fine.”

"... Fine. Just stay on the phone with me."

"Hm? While I walk?"

He figured Kuboyasu wouldn't want to have a conversation over the phone in favor of paying attention to his surroundings, but... Kusuo couldn't help but be nervous about his friend's safety at this hour. He just wanted to make sure he was fine the whole walk.

"We don't have to talk, just... stay on the phone with me..."

Kuboyasu snorted. "What, you gonna miss me in those, what, ten whole minutes?"

Kusuo scoffed quietly. "Don't be so full of yourself. I'm just making sure you don't trip and fall or something at 2am on the way to my house. Wouldn't want the blame to fall back on me." He somehow still managed to convey snark in his almost monotone voice despite his whisper.

Kuboyasu chuckled softly, as he snarked back teasingly, "You know I can take care of myself. Can't believe you're still worried about me~."

Kusuo did know that. It didn't change anything. And he WASN'T worried, he just knew that his various nuisances tended to get into trouble when he wasn't there to monitor them. He was always getting them out of trouble even in broad daylight, so there was absolutely no reason to think that walking alone in the middle of the night would prove to be an exception.

"Just shut up and don't hang up, alright?"

He heard the quiet creak of a door closing and shutting, barely drowning out Kuboyasu’s attempt at muffling his laughter. "Alright, sweet boy. I'm right here."

-

EWWWW CRINGEE EW THEY HAVE COOTIES

[gibbearish]

so like i want to talk more abt what suicidal means but the problem is "suicidal ideation presents in two general forms, active and passive. the thing most people think of as suicidal is the active version, where the person *actively* desires to be dead and/or is making a plan to get there. the passive form however gets almost no attention in media so many people experiencing it are unaware they are even depressed, much less passively suicidal. some examples: not wanting to experience death but feeling like you wouldn't mind if you didn't wake up tomorrow or just stopped existing; feeling deeply exhausted with just the entire concept of being alive; even feeling like you want to run away, change your name, and start a whole new life; none of these look like suicidal ideation to most people because they don't involve actively doing anything to get from point a to point b, especially the more abstract ones like the start a new life thing - but remember that in order to truly start a whole new life, you have to destroy your current one. it's not suicidal as in wanting to actually DIE die, it's just. wanting something close enough to scratch the itch. but just because you haven't booked the ticket doesn't mean you don't still revisit the 'vacation activities at point b' tab occasionally to daydream, yknow?" is i think very informative and specific, but its also quite long and run on-y so people are v likely to tap out like a third of the way through it, whereas "suicidal doesnt necessarily mean wanting to die" is way shorter and therefore catchier, but is also the kind of nonspecific phrasing that gets you a thousand angry anons about how you said all suicidal people are just pretending they actually want to die or some dumb shit. so it's a fun line to toe

[drakothedragon55]

“̶D̵i̶d̵ ̸y̸o̷u̷ ̵e̵v̴e̷r̶ ̶c̶o̵n̷s̷i̴d̸e̵r̶ ̵t̵h̶a̴t̴ ̶t̵h̸e̷ ̶w̴o̶r̸l̵d̵ ̶m̸a̴y̷ ̶h̵a̵v̶e̷ ̵k̷n̷o̶w̴n̷ ̸s̵c̴r̵y̸b̷e̵s̷ ̵b̸e̵f̷o̷r̴e̵ ̵y̴o̵u̸?̵”̶

— Dawn of the Apocalypse (Part 1/2: Regrettable Deals) —

How long had it been since he had seen the sun? This question floated though the little wizard’s mind as he laid down in his void.

This was a final test, but to them, it was more of a punishment. The thought of one day being included in Magnificus’ deck had been keeping him going, but it was quickly losing its charm.

“Please…just let this be over.” They would mutter to themselves. “I don’t care if I fail or not…I just want to be free.” But alas, these pleas were never heard. No one seemed to care for the poor, poor wizard.

Until one day, something responded.

Reality itself seemed to warp as a red mass of pixels slipped its way inside the wizard’s void. The trek seemed to have exhausted the thing, so it sat as still as a statue. But that didn’t stop the wizard from noticing it.

He was very tempted to rush over and start poking and prodding the thing, but a part of him wondered if this was another part of the test. They wanted freedom, yes, and passing their test might just be their ticket out of here. After what felt like an eternity to the little student, the mass finally uncurled itself, revealing a humanoid figure.

“̷…̸p̴a̴r̴.̵.̵d̵o̸n̷ ̸m̷y̶ ̵p̷o̴.̵.̴o̶r̴ ̶t̸a̶l̴k̷.̴.̷i̶n̶g̴ ̶s̵k̶i̸.̸l̴l̴s̷.̵ ̸I̷ ̵h̶a̷.̶.̶v̴e̷ ̸n̶o̶t̷ ̴s̷p̵o̶k̸.̷.̸e̷n̴ ̵t̷o̴ ̷a̴n̶y̴o̶.̷.̶n̶e̷ ̶i̶n̵ ̴a̴g̷e̴s̷.̷”̵ It said, finally acknowledging three wizard. “̷.̷.̶I̷ ̵r̷e̷a̸.̷.̶l̵l̶y̸ ̵a̸p̸p̶r̴e̵c̸i̶a̶t̷e̴ ̷y̷o̸u̷ ̸l̶e̸.̴.̸t̴t̴i̵n̷g̸ ̶m̶e̷ ̶r̵e̶s̵t̸ ̸h̶e̶r̵e̶.̷ ̷Y̸o̵u̶ ̴a̷r̵e̸ ̵t̷o̸o̶ ̶k̷i̵.̵.̸n̵d̷.̶”̵

“-No problem!” The wizard quickly responded. They were talking! Talking to someone else! Finally! ”Not a problem at all!”

“̴…̸.̴S̴a̸y̸.̷ ̵W̸h̶y̶ ̷d̴o̴.̸.̸n̸’̷t̸ ̶I̷ ̶r̴e̸p̷a̷y̶ ̶y̴o̴.̷.̶u̵r̶ ̴k̵i̴n̸d̸n̴e̶s̶s̵ ̷w̴i̷t̷h̴ ̷m̶y̴ ̶o̵w̴n̷?̷”̵

It snapped it’s fingers, and a static-covered card appeared in its hand. ̴“̷I̴ ̷c̸a̴n̷ ̵d̷o̸ ̸m̶a̷.̵.̴n̶y̸ ̷g̶r̴e̵a̴t̷ ̶t̸h̵i̷n̶g̶s̷,̴ ̵l̵i̵t̸t̸l̴e̸ ̶o̵n̸e̵.̴ ̴Y̷o̴u̸ ̷n̴a̴m̸e̵ ̷i̶t̴,̷ ̷a̷n̶d̸ ̵i̶t̶’̸s̸ ̴y̵o̸.̸.̸u̵r̴s̴.̷”̴

The wizard’s eyes widened. “A-Anything?” ”A̷n̵y̸t̴h̷i̴n̵g̴.̵”̵

He didn’t need to think about his choice at all. He already knew what he wanted. ”I wish to be free! To see the sun once more! To-“ “̷C̸o̴n̶s̶i̴d̵e̶r̸ ̸i̷t̴ ̵d̸o̸n̶e̸.̸”̶ The entity offered a hand to the student, who quickly shook it. Before they could let go, however, a shooting pain shot up the wizard’s arm. ”O̸n̷e̷ ̶l̴a̷s̶t̵ ̵t̸h̷i̵n̴g̴.̴ ̶T̷h̴i̷s̸ ̵m̸i̵g̸h̷t̷ ̶h̷u̷r̶t̶ ̷a̵ ̴b̸i̷t̸.̴”̶

The void was spinning faster and faster now, and the entity was just a red blur of light. Quickly pulling away, the unfortunate victim of the rogue data only made it a few steps away before collapsing. With another snap of their fingers, both the red creature and the student were gone.

One down. Three to go.

—————————————————————————————— When the Prospector first noticed the red light, he had been doing what he was always doing: mining for gold. He had stepped away for a few moments to catch his breath when an unnatural voice called out from behind him.

“M̸y̵ ̸m̷y̷.̷ ̶Y̷o̴u̵ ̷a̸r̶e̴ ̶a̵ ̸v̷e̶r̷y̶ ̷d̷e̶d̷i̶c̷a̸t̴e̷d̸ ̵w̷o̵r̷k̵e̶r̸.̸̷I̴ ̵s̸e̶e̸ ̶w̸h̵y̵ ̴L̸e̷s̸h̵y̷ ̶c̵h̵o̴s̴e̶ ̶y̸o̶u̶.̵”

“Huh? Who goes there?” The Prospector responded, startled. Normally his faithful hound would have alerted him to any approaching stranger. Why was she so quiet?

“Show yerself!”

A red figure with a snakelike tail slowly emerged from the trees with its hands in front of it.

“R̷e̶l̷a̵x̷,̷ ̶f̴o̸r̷ ̸I̴ ̶m̴e̶a̷n̴ ̶y̸o̶u̴ ̴n̵o̵ ̴h̶a̵r̶m̶.̴ ̴I̶ ̵s̵i̴m̶p̷l̸y̷ ̶w̶a̷n̸t̴ ̷t̵o̴ ̵c̶h̶a̵t̶.̶”

”A chat, ye say?” ”Bitter make it quick. I gots a job to do!” The red figure smiled, before gliding over to the rock the Prospector was working on.

“…S̴a̶y̸,̸ ̵f̴r̵i̷e̸n̷d̴.̷ ̶D̸o̸ ̶y̶o̷u̶ ̶t̵h̷i̸n̷k̷ ̶y̴o̷u̶ ̸f̶i̸n̶d̴ ̷a̴ ̷f̷a̷i̷r̸ ̴a̵m̸o̴u̷n̸t̵ ̷o̸f̸ ̵g̸o̸l̵d̵ ̸f̴o̵r̴ ̴t̸h̴e̸ ̷a̵m̶o̶u̷n̸t̵ ̸o̶f̷ ̵e̵f̸f̷o̷r̸t̴ ̷y̶o̸u̸ ̸g̴o̶ ̵t̴h̵r̴o̶u̷g̴h̵ ̴m̴i̶n̶i̴n̷g̵ ̴t̴h̸e̴s̶e̴ ̸r̴o̶c̸k̵s̶?̵”

“What are you geetin at, stranger?” The grizzled man asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I̵’̷m̵ ̵s̶a̶y̶i̴n̷g̴ ̸t̷h̷a̶t̷ ̴y̵o̸u̴r̶ ̸b̵o̷s̶s̷ ̴i̴s̸ ̷w̵o̴r̷k̵i̸n̷g̴ ̶y̵o̴u̸ ̴t̴o̴ ̶t̸h̴e̶ ̶b̸o̵n̷e̷ ̴w̶i̴t̴h̶ ̶a̸l̷m̶o̵s̵t̶ ̷n̸o̸t̵h̵i̴n̷g̵ ̵t̴o̵ ̴s̶a̶y̴ ̴f̶o̵r̷ ̵i̴t̶.̶ ̴N̶o̸w̸ ̴t̶h̷a̵t̶’̸s̷ ̵j̷u̸s̷t̴ ̵n̸o̷t̴ ̸r̶i̸g̶h̸t̸.̷” The figure paused for a moment, as if thinking. “̶Y̴o̷u̵ ̶s̷e̶e̵…̵I̶’̶m̴ ̷w̷o̶r̴k̷i̷n̵g̵ ̶o̵n̶ ̴a̸ ̸l̸i̴t̶t̷l̸e̶ ̷p̵r̸o̸j̷e̴c̵t̴ ̸o̴f̷ ̵m̴i̴n̷e̶.̴ ̸S̷o̸m̸e̶t̷h̵i̸n̴g̷ ̵t̶h̴a̶t̶ ̴w̸o̶u̸l̵d̴ ̵i̵m̸p̵r̴o̸v̶e̸ ̵t̸h̶e̸ ̴l̵i̸v̵e̶s̸ ̶o̸f̵ ̸e̴v̵e̴r̷y̵o̷n̴e̸ ̵i̶n̴v̵o̸l̴v̵e̴d̵.̵ ̸O̵n̵l̴y̸ ̸i̴s̷s̷u̵e̴ ̸i̷s̸,̸ ̷I̴ ̸n̷e̶e̷d̴ ̶v̵o̷l̵u̸n̴t̷e̵e̵r̵s̸.̴”

The prospector let out a loud, donkey-like laugh.

“That’s it? Ye came out all the way here to ask me te’ join ya?” He waved his hand dismissively before turning back towards the boulder. ”Forgit it.”

Y̷o̶u̸’̴d̶ ̸f̸i̵n̸d̷ ̷n̸e̸a̷r̷l̸y̵ ̵t̶r̶i̶p̶l̴e̵ ̷t̸h̴e̴ ̷g̸o̴l̶d̶ ̷y̷o̵u̶ ̵d̷o̴ ̴n̷o̵w̷.̷ ̷P̸l̵u̸s̴ ̶y̶o̷u̶’̵d̵ ̴a̸l̴w̵a̵y̵s̸ ̵h̶a̷v̶e̶ ̶f̶o̵o̴d̴ ̴f̵o̵r̶ ̶t̸h̵a̷t̸ ̷d̵o̴g̵ ̶o̵f̶ ̴y̶o̴u̸r̷s̸.̷

The Prospector swung his pickaxe down, before freezing right before it hit the rock. After a few moments of hesitation, he put the tool down before looking back over at the red figure.

“If you can keep your word, I suppose I can help ye.”

“I̸ ̴A̷L̵W̶A̵Y̶S̵ ̷k̸e̶e̷p̶ ̸m̴y̶ ̵w̴o̵r̷d̶.̶”

The red figure extended a clawed hand, and the Prospector promptly shook it. He only realized that something was wrong when a burst of pain shot up his arm. He didn’t even hit the ground before the world went dark, the last sounds he heard being the laughter of that red entity.

Two down, two to go. —————————————————————————————— It was yet another standard work day for the Melter. However, there was an almost palpable taste of dread in the air, like the very factory itself was waiting for something bad to happen.

Suddenly, something caught the bot’s synthetic eye. Instead of the usual metal, a card, completely covered in static, was slowly traveling down the conveyor belt.

"What a peculiar sight. Hm..."

They knew that they should have just left the card where it was. Who knows? Maybe P03 would finally be satisfied by it. But curiosity was getting the better of them, and before it could leave their room, the Melter snatched the odd card.

"H̸e̵h̶.̶ ̴H̴a̴d̵ ̸a̴ ̶f̶e̸e̸l̸i̴n̶g̸ ̶y̷o̶u̵ ̵w̶o̷u̸l̵d̵ ̷n̷o̷t̵i̸c̶e̸ ̸t̵h̸a̸t̵.̷"

"Huh-" "WHAT-"

Two different voices seemed to come out of the robot as they turned to face the sneaky individual who had somehow managed to slip their way inside the Melter's room.

The red figure was standing there, leaning against the conveyor belt like he owned the place.

"D̵o̵ ̵y̶o̸u̶ ̵l̷i̸k̷e̴ ̶t̷h̸e̴ ̴g̵i̷f̷t̴?̶ ̸I̵ ̸m̷a̷d̶e̸ ̶i̸t̶ ̸m̵y̷s̶e̷l̵f̶.̸"

"How did you get in here? Can't you see that we- I'm very busy?" The robot asked, annoyance overtaking their fear.

"D̸o̸n̵'̴t̴ ̵g̵e̵t̵ ̵y̵o̴u̶r̷ ̵w̶i̴r̴e̶s̷ ̴i̴n̶ ̸a̵ ̴b̶u̸n̴c̷h̷.̸ ̸Y̸o̴u̶r̶ ̶b̵o̷s̸s̸ ̷l̷e̶t̷ ̷m̵e̸ ̸i̴n̶.̸" "̷S̶p̷e̷a̷k̷i̴n̶g̴ ̸o̸f̵ ̴y̵o̸u̸r̵ ̸b̶o̸s̷s̵,̸ ̵h̵e̴ ̸d̴i̵d̸n̴'̶t̵ ̸s̶e̴e̵m̸ ̴t̶o̷ ̶c̴a̷r̵e̶ ̸a̷b̸o̴u̶t̴ ̵y̴o̸u̷ ̷a̶l̶l̴ ̵t̵h̴a̴t̵ ̸m̵u̶c̴h̶.̴ ̸H̵o̶w̶ ̵c̶o̵m̵e̷?̸"

"What are you talking about, red man? Of course P03 cares about us workers! Why else would we tirelessly toil just to improve his deck?"

"...R̷i̵g̶h̷t̷.̵ ̵A̷n̶d̵ ̵h̷o̴w̸ ̵i̷s̶ ̴t̸h̴a̷t̶ ̵p̵a̸y̸i̸n̸g̸ ̵o̴f̸f̶,̶ ̷h̷m̶?̵"

The Melter hesitated, the flame on their head flaring up for a moment. "I...am not going to answer that question. Now leave me alone! I must be getting back to my work."

The red figure nodded, before turning to leave. But right before he passed through the door, the entity said one last comment.

"Y̴o̸u̸ ̶k̸n̴o̷w̵,̵ ̶y̶o̵u̸r̵ ̵b̸o̵s̴s̸ ̴w̸o̶u̷l̸d̴ ̶b̴e̵ ̸r̷a̶t̴h̸e̶r̷ ̷e̷x̶c̴i̸t̷e̶d̷ ̸t̶o̶ ̶r̸e̴c̴e̷i̶v̸e̶ ̸a̸ ̸l̵a̵r̴g̵e̵ ̵q̶u̷a̸n̸t̸i̵t̶y̴ ̶o̴f̶ ̸t̵h̸o̷s̴e̵ ̷s̴p̸e̵c̷i̶a̸l̷ ̷c̸a̷r̵d̷s̸ ̸o̵f̶ ̶m̷i̴n̸e̵.̶ ̴S̶h̵a̶m̷e̵ ̷y̵o̷u̸ ̷d̸o̷n̵'̵t̷ ̴w̵a̶n̴t̸ ̶a̷n̷y̷.̶"

"Huh-" "W-Wait!"

Smirking, Ol_card turned back to face the burning machine.

"...What would it take for you to give me those cards?"

"L̷i̵k̸e̷ ̷m̸u̴s̶i̵c̸ ̸t̵o̴ ̸m̸y̸ ̸e̷a̴r̴s̵.̵" The data mumbled. "̷A̷l̷l̴ ̸I̴ ̸w̶a̷n̴t̵ ̶i̷s̶ ̵y̸o̴u̴r̷ ̸h̵e̵l̵p̷ ̷f̶o̸r̶ ̵s̸o̷m̵e̵t̸h̵i̶n̴g̶.̷ ̸A̵ ̶t̸e̴e̴n̶s̵y̶ ̵t̶i̷n̶y̴ ̴l̷i̶t̵t̷l̸e̷ ̴p̶r̶o̷j̵e̵c̶t̸ ̸o̵f̵ ̶m̵i̸n̷e̷.̵ ̸Y̶o̴u̸'̷d̶ ̴h̶a̶r̵d̸l̸y̷ ̸h̷a̷v̸e̸ ̷t̶o̸ ̴d̵o̸ ̶a̶n̵y̴t̵h̴i̷n̷g̵,̴ ̷b̵e̷s̸i̷d̸e̶s̴ ̴s̶i̷t̴t̷i̸n̷g̶ ̵t̶h̵e̷r̷e̶ ̴a̶n̴d̷ ̷f̷a̴c̸i̶n̸g̷ ̵o̴f̶f̸ ̶a̵g̵a̶i̵n̶s̶t̶ ̵c̷h̵a̴l̷l̸e̷n̴g̵e̴r̶s̵.̷"

He stuck his hand out towards the Melter. "S̸o̴.̶ ̴D̶o̵ ̶w̴e̴ ̸h̸a̶v̴e̶ ̴a̴ ̴d̶e̵a̶l̷?̴"

The robot considered their options...before eventually shaking the entity's hand.

"NONONO-"

Before it could even react, they abruptly fell to the ground.

Their system was practically screaming at them about corrupted files. But before anything could be done, the unfortunate machine shut down, leaving Ol_card to pick up his static card before walking out of the room with the Melter disappearing shortly afterwards.

Three down, one to go. —————————————————————————————— In the human world, the smell of ash and burnt machinery lingered around what remained of GameFuna's location in ███████. One of the few things that survived the blaze that had been extinguished mere hours before was a computer and the red floppy disk that had been inserted into it.

On the screen, a new female challenger appeared. She stumbled around aimlessly as if it were her first time walking, before eventually finding herself on one of the many bridges that connected all of Inscryption's islands together.

She left the centre island and decided to travel to the right, completely oblivious to the red mass of pixels that was silently following her.

Entering what was once the domain of beasts, the new challenger discovered that it was now full of terrifying monsters which promptly chased her out. But when she went to cross the bridge once more, the red mass appeared out of nowhere before sprinting into her, causing the screen to go black.

"L̴̗̄Ë̷̥́A̸̭̅V̴̢̍I̸̤̽Ň̵̪G̶̓ͅ ̴̆ͅS̶̪̃Ö̷́͜ ̶͈͂S̷̼̈Ȯ̵͕O̵͍̅N̴̪̂?̸̳͗" The screen displayed. "B̷͎͝U̷̘͋T̴̺͛ ̸͈̌M̶̳̏Y̸̨̕ ̴̠́L̶̫̿Ó̶̢V̴̱̽Ê̴̱L̸̳̆Y̷̰̾ ̴̙̃N̷̬͘É̴͇W̶̹͠ ̶͙́G̷͇̓Ả̸͓M̷̝̈́E̴̥̅ ̸̞̈́I̷̭͊Ś̵̠ ̴̟͆S̵̜̏T̷̫̓I̸̡͑L̸̻̑L̶̲͂ ̶̺͝M̶̥̅I̴͔͑S̸̞̀Ṡ̶̤I̸̘͆N̴̟͑G̴̺̍ ̵͎̉À̸͚ ̸̼̎S̶̱̿Č̵̦R̴̹͊Ỹ̸̹B̶͕͛Ě̷̝.̴̜͒ ̸̱̃Y̴͔̋O̵̺͝Ù̷̱ ̵̥̇Ŵ̴̼I̴͓̚L̸̪̈́L̷̫͗ ̵̘͐D̸͈̾Ó̸̦ ̴̹͊Q̵͉̓U̵͓̎Ǐ̷̦T̵̥͘E̶͕͝ ̷̳̍Ṋ̷̅I̴̠̅C̸̡̚E̶̤̒L̶̬͐Ẏ̷͔.̷̹̉"

"B̷̠̈́U̷̦͠T̴̊͜ ̴̺̃Ḟ̷̤I̷̦̕R̸̛̬S̴̤͝T̵̡̔.̴̟̉ ̴̢́L̸͇̀E̶͖͒T̸͓͠S̶͂͜ ̴̩͑P̵̫̂L̶͈̽A̷̳͂Y̸̫͆.̶̱͆"

An act 2 battle initiated itself, with the red mass at one end of the table and the frightened new challenger at the other. The challenger used her generic deck to the best of her abilities, and was actually winning.

Despite appearing to not be very familiar with this world, the challenger certainly knew how to play Inscryption. She was just two points of damage away from beating this...this monster. It was all going so well.

...until Ol_card played his signature static card, that is. Once it was struck it rapidly duplicated itself, before the scale took a nosedive in the unfortunate soul's direction.

"W̸̙̑Ḧ̵̞́A̴̭̒T̶̖̉ ̷͚͠Ā̶͎ ̴̫̐S̷͚͘H̴̯͊A̸̠̎M̴̪̋Ë̸̡.̵̡͑ ̶̗̓Ÿ̴̱́O̸͚̎U̸͔͗ ̷̟̒K̶̻̄Ň̶̗O̷͓̚W̷̰͂ ̸̟͑Ẅ̸̟́H̸͖͑A̵̧͊T̸̤̎ ̸̙͝Ḩ̶͠A̶͇͑Ṕ̶̘P̸͕͊Ē̶̯N̸̺͗S̴̬̈́ ̵̹͐N̵͙̎Ö̵͚́Ẁ̵̳,̶̨̔ ̶͕̄K̴͍̊.̴̰̃"

The challenger struggled, but could only move her arms. She could only watch in horror as the entity climbed over the table, before lunging at her.

The screen cut to red, and the computer let out a high-pitched whine before shutting off, ejecting the floppy disk as well.

Four down. None to go. Now the game can truly begin.

[pedroisghosties]

Where do y'all find friends who you can rant and talk about your new obsession with?? I have a friend of 7-8 years and everytime I've sent a voice note telling her what I'm going thru, she never listens to them because she's too busy being on vacation so what I do now is just tell her I'm doing good.

[fuckmeyer]

My favorite thing about the Jasper/Maria ship, dynamic, or whatever is how complicated and mysterious they are, like we don’t know much about them but what we DO know speaks to something deeper going on that isn’t quite explored. Like they make each other worse but they also make each other BETTER! It’s insane to think about really. Everyone’s usually like “they make each other worse!” but you’re like the only person to point out just how much they also make each other better and your points are so solid it got me thinking!

Like it’s honestly crazy to think about how they’re both in such bad circumstances and they’ve done bad things together; but there’s also the fact that they’re so tender and forgiving towards each other, how much they’ve learned from each other (especially from Confederate!Jasper’s side considering he had a LOT to learn/unlearn), and how they made each other stronger, smarter, etc.. while being from two completely different worlds yet they met and bonded through a similar core experience: War.

They became winners together after having lost so much before and they both chose each other naturally. Jasper could have chosen to follow Lucy or Nettie at any time but he chose Maria and he knew from the moment he met them that she was the special one, the leader. “It was immediately clear that the brunette was somehow in charge of the others. If they'd been military, I would have said that she outranked them.”

Maria was able to pick apart his compelling nature and knew he would be special/useful to her too, that’s why she chose to keep him and changed him herself bc one of the others said they were more likely to kill him. She probably didn’t expect to develop feelings for him later down the line but that’s for another conversation lol. They met by chance and they chose each other. They saw something.

I think both characters know this deep down and that’s why they still have some leftover feelings for each other. To me it’s the only thing that explains their out-of-character behavior towards each other. Like come on there’s no way Jasper is just thinking and talking about Maria like that if she didn’t still have an impact on him and there’s no way Maria’s just randomly thinking of him enough to want to find and visit him if he didn’t have some sort of impact on her too.

That speaks to so much potential between them. If they were so powerful and successful and hung-up on each other in the unfortunate situations they were in, imagine how powerful and strong they’d have been if they were in better circumstances. It gives me such a “right person, wrong time” feeling with them. Idk just my thoughts. You seem like the only person I can share these with lol.

- same anon btw

ANON it's wonderful to see you in my inbox again!!! you know i'm always here for Loving María Hours 🥰

you're right, there's so much deeper shit going on between Jasper & María, it's kinda crazy that all these other characters/ships get so much more attention when Jasper/María literally have a built-in story! (no hate to those who create content on minor characters ofc — we're all out here doing the lord's work LMAO)

you really hit it on the head. like the fact that their story is so "evil" and their characters are so "bad" speaks to the gentleness and goodness that obviously came out of their relationship considering Jasper is now a vegetarian Cullen freak. & the idea that the external conflict (war) is used as a vehicle AND as a symbol for their own internal conflicts & the thematic discussion at hand?!?!?! THE STORY 👏 WRITES👏 ITSELF👏👏👏

bro ofc Jasper followed María!! bad bitches only. & at the end of it all Lucy & Nettie AINT SHIT! they betrayed their covenmate! smh. tbh it spoke volumes that she had no problem killing them YET took so long (& ultimately did not) kill Jasper. girl can sniff betrayal from a mile away & even though she let the paranoia get the best of her, in the end she didn't let it control her 😇 it's not a perfect cutesy HEA, but dammit if it's not GROWTH

only semi-related, but the fact that Jasper mentions she had a good judge of character, and the fact that she seemed to look specifically for humans who would be gifted/powerful, makes me wonder if she didn't have some sort of gift herself. i like to think that Nettie & Lucy didn't betray her bc of something she did but rather bc they simply couldn't cope with the way María always chose Jasper & her country above all. María's gift is that she sees the good & the strength & value in people. even when they don't see it in themselves. war is simply not a good medium for people to reach their full potential...& once María draws it out of them, they discover want more for themselves than what death & violence can give them. in Nettie & Lucy's case, they lash out bc they assume they will never live up to María's vision. in Jasper's case, he defects so he can live up to the person she sees in him ❤️ María's weakness is she gets so focused on her mission she gets tunnel vision, so these are all seen to her as betrayals

but i imagine María realizes this down the road & works on healing herself instead of her country. obviously the Southern Wars haven't gotten out of control, & wtf does Jasper know about the South's situation after his 150-year absence? maybe the fact that she hasn't gotten herself in trouble lets him know that she's more focused these days on looking out for herself, finding potential within instead of working in vain to fix something that can realistically never be repaired in the way she always dreamed. & that's ok :)

all he knows is she's got a softer side & that he's rooting for her on her own journey to healing, & he will always wish her well 😌

TLDR TRUE TRUE, ANON. right person, wrong time.

all hail María ❤️

[intoafandom]

.

[undermostcorgi]

the media which consumes your entire soul at age 12 will forever be a part of you. this is an unavoidable consequence of living and you have to accept this fact. no matter how old you get, no matter how long it has been since you last saw its smug face peeking out from the bushes as it follows you, no matter if you think you have outrun it for good and that you're finally finally safe and you hardly even remember it exists anymore and your brain knows a few brief moments of true peace, it WILL catch up to you in your moment of weakness. and listen you don't want to hear this but sometimes this is necessary for your mental health. you will on instinct want to reject it and run away again but sometimes. sometimes you just need to watch that old show or listen to that silly song or read that weird book again as an adult and it will hurt you a little bit in various little ways but it will also heal you a little bit. you can call it nostalgia you can call it connecting with your inner child or whatever you want but just listen to me it WILL HAPPEN TO YOU TOO AT SOME POINT AND YOU HAVE TO BE PREPARED FOR THIS (i am forcibly dragged off the stage by security)