#it was like 10% following a pattern

[stormflute]

there's algebra too

Math is really tiring, im so glad i finally get to relax and do some knitting and crochet and i oh god oh my what the fuck

[noodles-and-tea]

👀

[l-in-the-light]

The most embarrassing series of posts about Lawlu you will ever read: edition Wano (part 15)

Finally, it's time to analyze the raid! Lots of scrutinizing, sometimes literally frame by frame analysis here, hehe. I had a blast preparing it, hope you all enjoy :3

And we start from the very beginning of the raid, yeah, that's right :D it's interesting how Luffy had the choice to fight in samurai attire but decided against it at the last moment and went on with his own clothes instead. The mantle looks a bit similar to what Shanks wears, but it's curious how both Law AND Luffy suddenly came up with the same idea, both wearing mantles while never caring for it before, right? Great minds think alike, or perhaps...? It's always curious to see Luffy, who is very attached to his usual clothes, to change his wardrobe to fit the occassion :D it's more evident in movies I guess. But on the way to Dressrosa, Luffy did enjoy dressing as a samurai a lot.

Those mantles are reminescent of Shanks and Cora-san respectively ofc. I don't count Kid, he was wearing his furry one ever since Sabaody, heh.

Law allows Luffy to get the spotlight here btw and for him to say one of the coolest lines of the whole raid too. He might mind taking orders or looking bad in front of third parties (like Kid), but overall? He gives away the credit. Aren't they equal in this alliance after all? Yet he chooses again for Luffy to take the centre of the stage.

In a moment Law will be moody and picking up fights lol, but it doesn't override this tranquil moment of just "standing" side by side with his ally. Speaking of picking up fights, manga and anime provide us two different reasons behind it though. Let's start with the anime.

Anime added a tiny little interaction which I made into a gif above (I wanted a vid, but eh, no matter how much I converted, it still didn't want to upload here, so the gif would have to do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯).

Luffy (his ship passes by Law's ship, he smiles but doesn't say anything to Law, instead shouts to Kid): You came after all, Gizao!

Kid: I won't let you have Kaido's head, Strawhat!

Law: *tsk*

Luffy doesn't say the usual "HI TORAO!" or give any sort of acknowledgment to Law and instead focuses on Kid there. But if you followed with my analysis for all the previous parts then you know already that it basically never happened before. Luffy is always spotting Law and giving him attention immediately. But here, arguably only the smile might have been meant for him (or not, debetable, he did smile towards Kid before in Udon when he asked him to beat Kaido together).

Law's reaction to all of that? He just made an annoyed noise. He didn't get Luffy's attention, even though by all means he should have expected to get some acknowledgement of his presence. And to rub salt into the wound, Kid got that attention instead. The very same Kid Law was jealous about twice before! LOL The first time was on the way to Dressrosa (Luffy getting excited finding out about Kid's alliance) and second time in Wano, when Law noticed news about Kid being kept in Udon. He made quite a big reaction, especially so in the anime, when he was completely spiraling into his own thoughts and neglected everything happening around him for a bit, lol. I think this indeed proves, perhaps, that Law is jealous. Kinda relatable, he's Luffy's ally, he was there for the whole ride, not Kid, why would Luffy give all the attention to the new friend he found in Udon instead? If I can relate to this so easily then perhaps it means I'm just as petty omg.

But little does he know, Luffy probably acted this way because of his undying confidence in Law. Of course Law appeared at the day of the raid, Luffy would never doubt that. Kid, on the other hand, was a big unknown in comparison and told Luffy before that he won't show up, so... Luffy is lowkey calling out Kid for his lie here, heh. And we know Luffy dislikes it when people lie to him!

Luffy was in fact so confident and had so much faith in things working out (despite leaving it all in other people's hands, like Law's or Kinemon's), that he stuffed himself silly and fell asleep, so he's well rested before the battle. The very same Luffy who protested in WCI that rest and bath should be reserved for after-battle celebrations, mind you. Now he acts almost like he listened to doctor's advice to gather the most strength and not waste it around before the raid. You think he listened to Chopper? Nah, for once that wasn't coming from Chopper. We heard that discourse of "saving up your strength for the raid" from this particular individual:

Which means, Luffy again did listen to Law. Good boy. But wait, you might say, Luffy wasn't present in this scene! Sure, he wasn't, but his crew was and Law basically drilled into their heads this mindset (now that I think of it, he probably can be a bit annoying with repeating the same stuff again and again. He has this slightly preaching vibe about him). They for sure told Luffy after he broke out of Udon.

This one is a bit curious. Kinemon is apologizing that the plan got leaked and Luffy looks very surprised (he's not looking at Kanjuro despite their frames being right after one another). Luffy didn't know about Kanjuro's betrayal yet at this point, so it would make no sense for him to stare at him (Kanjuro's frame is there because he's gleefully proud of himself as being the source of trouble). So what or who is Luffy looking at? Considering what Kinemon is saying, he's looking in his direction, clearly confused. And where is Kinemon kneeling? On Law's submarine.

Yes, it's likely Luffy isn't looking at Kin directly, but more like searching for Law's reaction to this. But Luffy isn't distressed, he's a bit surprised instead and seeking for confirmation, imo. Despite that, it doesn't faze him, not really (when was Luffy ever fazed in situations like that anyway? Luffy's usual idea how to deal with complications is by beating more bad guys), he's just concerned because he cares a lot for both Kin and Law (and by extension for samurais and the raid).

In next page, they find out from Kaido's minions that Kaido and Big Mom formed an alliance together. Everyone is reacting with shock to the news and focus on the alliance part... except this guy again, reacting with a very annoyed face and spurting "Big Mom...?!!" instead.

Law reacts to the news about Big Mom firstmost, because he remembers who travelled to her territory to get one of his people back, uhum. And swore not to cause any trouble and do it discreetly. Now Law found out the "discreet" part completely failed and Luffy managed to bring his tail (in the form of a very furious emperor of the sea) with him to Wano. He doesn't seem very pleased with that. He's so overfocused on it that the whole "alliance between emperors" thing feels *less siginificant* in this moment, even though it's devastating news! LOL. Please, mr Strategist, keep it together, without you this raid won't ever reach Kaido!!

He's not very pleased with this outcome, because in the next pages he calls Luffy per "idiot" which he actually doesn't do very often (just sometimes), but always when it's deserved (it's completely deserved here lol).

And I think this disappointment that Luffy brought Big Mom with him is the explanation of why Law is acting like a brat and wants to take over (in the manga). No more giving away the spotlight! Law has to again tidy things up after Luffy, after all. This might also be his silly anger that is hiding the fact he got worried. What exactly did Luffy do in WCI? Law must have asked himself that question countless times before, but decided it's not important to know the details as long as Luffy is back. Seems their escape was not safe at all and it's the moment Law realized it. It probably hit him like a piano to the coyotte's head like in that cartoon, you know which one, right??

Putting his inner thinking process aside, we shouldn't forget how rare it is that Law is feeling like "showing off" and quarreling like a brat with the other Supernovas. He's always the responsible guy, only with them he acts a bit like a child, and we know most of his childhood got robbed from him. So all of this results in unforeseen wholesome consequences, Law can behave more freely, like a bratty teen for once.

Important to note here is that Law is only speaking to Luffy directly and facing him as they quarrel. Kid faces Law, but never gets any attention back, lol. It's even more emphasized in the anime version:

Oh boy, in the anime the insult only gets worse. Not only Luffy didn't acknowledge Law's presence, he also gave out an order "stand back" in everyone's hearing range. Add Law's jealousy to it and annoyance about the Big Mom, and Law's big reaction isn't suddenly so strange anymore. It's easy to understand why he would tell Luffy to stand back instead and that he can't rely on him anymore.

Luffy doesn't want to give in and doesn't understand why Law doesn't let him take care of things. Luffy is a simple person, when he says someone takes care of something, he always lets them do it, so he really wants to know why Law wouldn't let him. Normally Luffy also would just proceed to do whatever he wants anyway, but he stops and takes time to actually *listen to Law* first instead. He's also (comically) taken really aback when Law shouts at him, calling both him and Kid morons. Luffy is not used to Law treating him like that lol. Seriously, he's not! Law always downplays Luffy's blame in everything, gives away his own credit and gives in to Luffy, but here, for some reason, he insists not to. But Luffy realized whatever it is, Law is not feeling like sharing the reason, so he decides to do what he usually does: showing Law he's capable of dealing with this no problem, on his very own.

Now let's take a closer look at Law and his body language here. Despite Law's assertive words and declaration that he can't count on Luffy, when Luffy asked to leave the enemy ships up to him, Law did lower his hand that was already prepared to set up the room. Again, his body language and words contradict each other, he says he can't rely on Luffy but he also lowers his hand like he's prepared to do just that: rely on him. He still respects Luffy enough to pause and talk, even if he has no intention of giving in. He also clenches his hand into a fist right afterwards, which can mean that he's made a firm resolve here: to act a certain way and preservere despite his initial instinct. To provide another examples of similar situation, he clenched his fists when he wanted to run out of the hospital and didn't want to visit any doctors (in the flashback), but he stayed for Cora-san. He also clenched his fist like that when Luffy was leaving for Whole Cake Island, like a reminder of his own resolve. did Law actually want to go with him instead? I guess we will never know...

Want my wildest guess here? I think Law regretted leaving Luffy alone with the WCI mission (if he did go as well, he would make sure not to bring Big Mom along!), thought he was wrong to leave for Wano himself and should have followed Luffy like he wanted to, which is why here he wants to take over now to compensate for it, lol.

But you know, he might just be simply petty because he disliked that Luffy gave him an order, in front of Kid of all people. It's rarely just one reason for Law's behaviour anyway.

Of course Law wins in their little competition thanks to the rain. He also says: "You two are losers, no complaints then, right?" which shows that he thinks that winning in the race is enough to make them stand back, because (in his mind) he won his right to take care of the things. In a way, that's somehow honorable. But it's also his answer to what Luffy said "first come, first served" - Law was the first one so Luffy should by all means back off, lol. Luffy almost got forced to accept that, but he doesn't, he's too stubborn for that. It's hard to say who is more stubborn sometimes: Law or Luffy. Law also constantly regrets his decision to compete in the first place, if his furrowed brows reactions are anything to go by.

It's funny how Luffy is still going on about Law retreating, like he truly expected him to. Who knows, maybe in other circumenstances, Law actually would, lol. Here we are, taking Law's reaction in the raid as a given, as his *usual* reaction (hating to take orders, not leaving things up to Luffy, not liking to be treated as support), but seems it's actually something that is *against their usual dynamics* instead. Why would Luffy be so baffled otherwise? Luffy is not an idiot who doesn't pay attention to his friends, he does his best with that. He's at least smart enough to figure out how Zoro and Sanji are super important for each other, despite always fighting and quarreling. And yet here Luffy is only getting more and more baffled, which explains why he later paid so much attention to Law's moody attitude at Onigashima's roof battle as well. He knew Law was in bad mood ever since the beginnng of the raid and acted strange, and Luffy finally was able to identify the (biggest part of the) reason behind that (spoiler alert: it was the presence of Kid). Not here yet though, lol.

Law's comments about his room are also quite hilarious. When he answers Luffy he's just like "who cares" or "so what", dismissive, because Luffy should have known better not to pick up a competition with him in the rain, Luffy knows his devil fruit ability pretty well by now. Honestly, Luffy can blame only himself here. Law didn't even have to acknowledge his comment in any way, but he did, because well, he can never resist giving attention to Luffy, even when they're quarreling. That's some crazy standards he has right there and seems he only has them for people he likes/respects (and in most cases it's Luffy). Law's answer to Kid is much worse: "I don't want to hear that from you (who is a show off)". He's just being mean to him and only because he can, lol. Though it's true Kid is a show off, so you know, just stating the facts ;)

Now after they destroyed that ship, it's time for more arguing, of course. In previous series of screenshots I included the frame in which they attack the ships. Law destroyed the ship's keel at the top (his attack is indicated by the blue light), while Luffy and Kid both did side attacks instead. If you remember Water 7, keel is the ship's spine, doing damage to it is literally rendering the ship useless and beyond repair. I will let you judge who was the one who ultimately destroyed those ships :D also this sorta proves Law has some basic knowledge about how ships work! Not that I ever doubted it.

Kid immediately tries to brag, but Law ignores his comment completely and doesn't even look at him, he just points towards the next target. He has already resigned himself to be in company of morons lol. Luffy also looks at Law and decides he will show off to Law some more, by destroying the very ship Law pointed towards! He's surprised that he got Law's direct reply (his face goes all :O for a second). Why would Luffy be so surprised that Law answered him? He should be used to it by now? Indeed, but Law is behaving strange according to Luffy here and he just saw him ignore Kid completely, despite Kid complaining for being ignored. Luffy must have thought he will get the same treatment as Kid did, perhaps because Law is angry, but surprise, Law didn't ignore him. He talks to Luffy and even looks at him as he does. I can only imagine Kid fuming even more when he noticed the difference in treatment lol.

But the thing he tells him is another matter heh. Of course Law points out that he was the one who destroyed the ship and the others are just playing around, not taking this seriously. Luffy is mad, because he is taking it seriously, he's just unaware that the damage he dealt and the damage Law dealt are fundamentally different (one was fatal, the other didn't have to be). It's still quite a childish thing to quarrel about anyway, lol.

In the manga as well, Law is mostly facing Luffy and pointing at him when they quarrel, completely ignoring Kid. So who thinks Kid feels here like a third wheel?

I also wonder if Luffy secretly slightly enjoys having a competition with Law (just the competition part, not the quarrel part!). You can see his eyes going all serious and business-like a couple of times, lol.

Then we have a break from the fight and everyone learns the raid is gonna be just fine, samurais made it. Luffy cheered up quickly and Law calmed down as well, seems he let out the steam and he embraced the Big Mom's situation already. He even is back to being worried 24/7 and reminds Luffy that Big Mom is unforeseen circumenstances here so he shouldn't let his guard down. Look at him, he doesn't even mention that it was Luffy's fault that Big Mom is even here in the first place! Despite this being a perfect opportunity for it! Now that I think of it, I can't remember even one situation in which Law blamed Luffy openly or directly for anything. He is capable of doing that to other people though, he blamed Zoro from head to toes at the start of the arc, lol. Just not Luffy... He kinda accepted it as something caused by, you know, natural causes ;) Besides, if Law really thinks he should have come along to WCI, then of course he takes the blame on himself instead in the end (as in: he could have prevented this outcome).

After they learn about Denjiro's betrayal of Kaido, Luffy laughs. Law looks to his side then, and when we follow the next frame we see of them, it seems he was looking at Luffy, not the ships. Catching Luffy smiling made him look at him and smile too, huh. I love the anime staff for adding this little interaction here between them. It's almost too cute and wholesome ❤

Anyway, I guess they're good already, quarrel's over, we can all go home now, lol.

In next moment Law already moved on, somehow thinking Luffy and Kid are done as well. They're so not, lol. Law doesn't bother anymore though, finally leaving it up to them, even though he thinks destroying the few leftover ships is actually no longer neccessary.

It's especially funny to compare it to his attitude from the very beginning, before they learned about the Big Mom being in Wano. He's commenting "they're showing off again" and smirking at the sight, completely calm. That attitude won't be back till the end of the raid lol. RIP.

Then we learn that Jimbei is here to join the Strawhats crew. Law is disbelieving with "uso daro?!" (literally: "you're lying, right?" or less literally how it's translated above lol). No one's tricking you Law, but his reaction proves that he never heard of this development before, despite the fact Luffy wanted Jimbei to join ever since Fishman Island! He had multiple occassions to mention it to Law, even if he couldn't have the opportunity to do it after WCI.

Now why does Law care so much? Is it because he feels ignored as an ally? Or perhaps? He feels a bit weirded out, because after Marineford, it was him and Jimbei in Amazon Lily witnessing Luffy rampaging in grief and sorrow, and now it turns out that same Jimbei is joining Luffy's side... I wonder what incredulous thoughts are going through Law's head in this moment. Is he terrified? Impressed? Both at the same time? Let's not forget Luffy did declare Law his crewmate all by himself in Dressrosa already and Law's expression might be the flashback to that memory, because this puts Jimbei and Law in suspiciously similar positions here (parallels-wise). Both of them were there at Amazon Lily with Luffy, both are captains of their own crews, even both of them were warlods of the sea at some point! Tbh I would be also questioning my sanity here, if I was Law, lol.

Kid's reaction to the new development quickly turns to him smirking and walking away, minding his own business. It's interesting, because right after we see Law's reaction which is the direct opposite. He's staring in Luffy's ship direction, not even looking away when Kinemon joins him. He seens a bit whimsical or even has this odd lonely aura around him. Actually, he kinda is left out here. He's Luffy's ally, right now they're together, but he gets kinda excluded from this event. Like yeah, it's not his business, it's Luffy's own crew, not Law's. And yet his *stare* says something different here.

Anime really put emphasis on it, but he does the exact same in manga, if you pay attention. He's also saying that slightly spiteful and petty comment (it is a bit spiteful, come on, let's face that fact). Also I can't help but think that Law is staring at Luffy directly again who is doing all those cheerful excited gestures with his hands raised above him. Their ships are close enough that they can hear what the Strawhats are saying, so definitely can see it too.

Also if you think Law never intended to create a plan for Strawhats because he finally learned to leave them be, then think back to what he did right after explaining the plan (very reluctantly because he was still holding some grudge apparently) to Kinemon and samurais.

His plan already included Strawhats in it (in quite a brilliant way, he decided to use their natural tendencies and made place for it in his double diversion tactics, even if it is also funny af). He calls them just "two idiots" which in Japanese is a bit more nuaunced... he says "baka nikai" (a very curious phrase to use. Nikai is how you count the number of times something happened, most often used as "twice". So the meaning should be closer to something like this: "no matter what plan you think of, there will be an occurance of some idiot (make the occurance twice) appearing to ignore it anyway". Would be so fitting for his peculiar way of speaking sometimes, lol). He feels the need to specify how many idiots he means, because he's speaking to the samurais and they don't know Kid, so he provides helpful context (not really, just the base minimum of it lol). He actually specifies it like an afterthought here, which proves he uses "baka" for plural people quite frequently. This is also second time he officially does that, I wrote about the first use in the previous post. Baka can be used to refer to plural number of people, no need for unnatural forms like baka-tachi, it all depends on the context in the end, as always.

Right after he tells samurais the plan, he goes back to stare at Luffy's ship only to realize it's gone now. He probably wanted to try to tell them what they decided, despite what he declared earlier: that there's no need to set up a plan for Luffy's group or share anything with them, lol. He went back on his own words really quickly.

It happens in anime as well and is more emphasized. Someone's worried again lol. What happened to "don't bother with them" attitude, Law? :D yep, already completely gone. So yeah, if you believed his petty spite from earlier, congrats, you fell for him pretending not to care, lol yes, I fell for it too, only after analysis it dawned on me that he was just petty.

In manga he's much calmer, but then he's also turned with his back to the reader, so it's also harder to tell. His reaction seems less big in comparison and his speech bubble is normal, not shouting :) he also doesn't seem very alerted, which indeed proves that in the manga, Law got a bit more used to Strawhats antics and doesn't overreact to every tiny thing anymore (which is both awesome and a bit of a pity, but at least we have the anime to still deliver on that overreacting front, hehe).

For comparison purposes. Completely different attitude, haha.

Luffy and the Strawhats destroy one of the minor (but important) enemy bases and Luffy spots Law's submarine and waves to Kinemon immediately, looking very happy. This shows Luffy probably did hear Kin shouting to them before, he was just too excited to react in time :D

If you think Luffy only thinks of Kinemon here, you would be gravely mistaken. It's likely he spotted the submarine and got happy instantly because of the Polar Tang's captain as well. After all, Kinemon and Law ARE on same ship. I swear Brook is looking there too... or is he staring at Zoro and Sanji bickering with each other? Lol.

The same moment in the anime. You can spot the exact moment in which Luffy's beaming smile appears as he spots the submarine ❤ he's also doing his happy X pose and waving his hands like crazy hoping they can see him.

Luffy wants to celebrate Jimbei joining the crew with the Strawhats here (it was actually prompted by Franky first, believe it or not), but then ditches the idea after submarine swims by. This moment puzzled many fans, me included, which is why I was cracking my head open to try to see if I missed something and why does this feel so damn important. Even the chapter's title, "Party Off", underlines the fact that they're delaying the party for crew joining, and by all means this chapter should be called instead with Jimbei's crewmate number (shall be the 9th, because Brook's chapter was called the 8th). I have come to my own conclusions and I will share them at the end of this post.

There will be a lot of focus on the anime, because it really expands on this scene. It's also one of the episodes done by the most oustanding animator in OP's anime department (she also did the famous One Piece Fan Letter special).

Luffy is really moved seeing the energy of the samurai, who are led by the Polar Tang and Kinemon in the front. Now, Kin is not the captain of the ship. He was not the one to give the order to move on, that was Law. We don't see it happen, but it's a natural logical conclusion; only captains give orders for the ship to charge forward. We need to have it clear in our heads, Law originally wanted to kick out the samurais from his ship and refused to do anything before they get off. But after he gave in and included himself in the revised plan, he wanted to tell Luffy the news. Look at the things from his perspective. Luffy didn't wait, just moved on and tried to make a celebration while they should be moving on immadiately, like samurais say it: time is of essence because Kanjuro is already on the move to report to Orochi! So Law wanted to tell Luffy stuff, but Luffy just wanted to party. Remember Punk Hazard and how taken aback Law was when he asked Luffy to move on quickly and that they don't have time for parties now, but Luffy ignored him? This is payback. Law told samurais to move on and not wait for Luffy, because he got annoyed, both by the fact Luffy didn't wait for him here and also because of the flashback to Punk Hazard. This time, Law pushes his point across, which is: THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO CELEBRATE STRAWHAT-YA.

You can see Luffy's change of mind as meaningful answer to that. This time, he listened and followed Law's lead. LUFFY FOLLOWED LAW'S LEAD. You heard me right.

But that's not all there is to it, there is a lot of subtle subtext going on besides that. In many visual cues like Luffy's mug timed to Oden's footstep, the emphasis on Luffy putting his hat back on while he stares after the submarine, and in all the small reactions each Strawhat shows to Luffy's decision. It's a feast to analyze.

In this visually stunning moment, Kin and Oden are facing opposite directions, but it looks like Oden is charging ahead, encouraging his samurais to follow behind him again. And the last of Oden's stomps turns into Luffy's mug landing on the ground with a loud "don", replacing the sound from the present with the one from the past.

And then Luffy announces to just delay the party for later, after they win and everyone follows through with smiles.

But who started this dynamic exchange? Do the Strawhats know why Luffy called quits here?

Zoro quickly smirks, he would follow Luffy no matter what, but he's also the one who is with Luffy the longest, so he knows thanks to his extraordinary intuition what's in his captain's head.

Sanji is only observing at first, more every detail about Luffy's behaviour than his words. Then Luffy does his "heeheehee" laugh (as opposed to his usual shishishi), which finally makes Sanji crack a little smile that turns into full blown hehehe laugh mirroring Luffy's own when he says the line "after we beat up Kaido". Their interaction here gives off some sharing our very own little secret vibes, ngl. And my guess is that it reflects their reinforced bond from Whole Cake Island.

Quick refresher from WCI situation. Sanji tells Luffy "I didn't tell you to wait..." despite the fact he can't even face him, because he did write in his letter a lie that "he will be back". Luffy laughing again with this "heeheehee" to both Zoro and Sanji, and basically never to anyone else (again, his usual laugh sounds this way: shishishi). Luffy knows the truth in both cases (Sanji's lie and Zoro's worry), but he also did something else amazing in WCI: he mirrored Sanji's own promise with his own one "I will be back", "I made a promise". In both cases, after my analysis, I came to the conclusion that both Luffy and Sanji meant specific people with their promises, but have real trouble admitting it outloud. This laugh became their little secret sign that it's okay, I know what you mean even if you don't say it. And in Wano episode they do it again. What's the secret message this time? It actually didn't change. By laughing and talking about beating Kaido Luffy actually means the person he's beating Kaido for. Momo? Kinemon? You think? Nah, the deal was made before Kin or Momo were even part of the picture. It was because of alliance with Law of course. And yes, I think the animator behind this Wano episode saw the same secret communication I saw as well between Luffy-Sanji-Zoro and this episode is 100% refering to that, lol. Ngl, feels good that someone else picked up on it too.

And then we have Nami, who also seems to understand, braves herself and scolds Luffy (which surprises Usopp, he can tell she's faking it lol). Whether she gets the secret message doesn't matter, though I'm sure if she got it she would think it was to be expected and "very much like Luffy". Usopp can definitely tell something's oddly special about this too (his eyes dart scrutinizing from Nami to Sanji to Zoro, all the people who always "can tell what's up"), but he didn't pinpoint the reason himself yet. He will probably realize it only muuuch much later, but he gathered the pieces for now. Robin is an enigma like always, Chopper is clueless (also like always), Franky probably just doesn't mind (he was the one reminding Luffy to stay undercover in Dressrosa so he can be the responsible one when needed, so why would he mind it here. The reason provided by Luffy was probably 100% enough for him), Brook keeps his thoughts to himself (I'm sure he knows though lol), and Jimbei complies. Tbh the latter has no reason to complain, he *was* extremely late to the raid anyway. But it's very lovely that they ask him to be the one to make the final decision, because the shared drinks was to welcome him! He makes sure to be the first one to follow through with Luffy's gesture and everyone joins in.

Even though they delayed it (kinda indefinitely, curiously enough), this scene makes it look like even just putting the mugs down is already partial celebration, which is pretty wholesome.

And it all ends with this shot, just before the "to be continued" screen, which makes a perfect scene rendition and end of the episode, and also something often being recalled to later on in the anime, even in the endings, suggesting the circle, despite looking complete, seems to be waiting for continuation, just like the "tbc" screen spells it.

From this point on, this post enters the headcanon/speculation territory, so please keep it in mind or skip it if you're not interested! There won't be anything new in the analysis after this, as I'm finishing this post with that.

You know what's great about One Piece's storytelling, right? The parallels. How about we parallel this ending frame to the one from the very beginning of the same episode then? :D It's actually a shot of Onigashima island but we see that also right before the mugs were placed down, so okay, we can see common theme here. So what's the very next scene?

Law looking towards both Onigashima and the torii gate Luffy will ransack later on in this same episode, the very same place they're supposed to celebrate Jimbei joining the crew. The very same celebration Polar Tang with Kinemon in front of it interrupted :) do you see the full picture?

"I want to celebrate it with everyone" says Luffy. Law's name doesn't get mentioned, but he is definitely part of the "everyone". Maybe even a very special part of it, if this little parallel is anything to go by.

I think Luffy is waiting for Law to join the crew, which is why the celebration and the numbered chapter with Jimbei's number is still on hold. Maybe even the numbered chapter will be a joined one (both for Jimbei and Law), just like it was for Usopp and Franky in Water 7. It won't happen in Wano though, not that we know of at least. "But Law has his own crew!!!" Funny you mention that, Jimbei used to be a captain of his own crew of Sun Pirates as well, that didn't stop Luffy nor anyone else from recruiting him. "But he loves Heart Pirates!!" do you suggest Jimbei didn't love Sun Pirates??? "But Law will never serve under Luffy!!" Please, that's never how it worked in Strawhats either. No one is Luffy's subordinate! In fact, I don't think you can find any other crew that is as equal as his. Even Law's own crew has more hierarchy going on. But let's put all those doubts aside, because this is honestly not the place for it.

Let's focus instead on Luffy's decision: that Law is gonna be his crewmate, because That Actually Happened and it's canon. It all started in Punk Hazard, Luffy called alliance with Law as "it's something like being friends!". In Dressrosa, that already grew into "He's my crewmate!" (told to Cavendish to prevent him from trying to harm Law, but we all know Luffy, he would never toss those words like that if he didn't actually believe them himself). And now, in Wano, Luffy looks after Polar Tang and that makes him put his mug away. They're not a complete crew yet, someone is missing and Luffy wants to do it properly. Luffy decided to wait till Law is ready. That's how I see this.

But Law refused him twice already! He said in Dressrosa he's not Luffy's crewmate, he protested in Zou when Luffy declared alliance is friendship! Double refusal! Yeah, he did that, even though second example wasn't about Luffy's friendship in particular that he protested against, just Luffy's definition of the alliance concept (ffs Law they warned you. Usopp and Sanji both warned you! You deserve every single second of this suffering lol). And yes, in Dressrosa he clearly denied, but Luffy also never asked him, just made a declaration on his own. Without a question, there's no refusal that he will take into account. And even if there was a question, Luffy often decides on his own and pursues someone he chose relentlessly. He did it with Nami before (following her to Arlong Park), Zoro, Usopp, Sanji (how many times did Sanji manage to refuse Luffy? it barely fazed the latter), Chopper, Robin (Water 7/Enies Lobby situation), Franky (it was prompted, but still counts), Brook (remember? he also refused Luffy despite initial agreement), and Jimbei (how many arcs did Luffy chase after Jimbei again? since Fishmen Island till Wano, huh). You see the pattern? I gotta say Law fits 100% into it, lol.

This time though, Luffy doesn't ask Law directly himself. Would Law have it in him to blatantly refuse if he was asked directly to join instead of "assumed to be part of the crew"? Seeing how bad Law is at refusing Luffy anything much at all, even a stare or some attention, I'm thinking he would have a really hard time if Luffy put him in such position and Asked The Question To His Face.

Luffy doesn't do it though, not that we know of. Interesting, considering Luffy usually wouldn't hold back and chases after people relentlessly. Maybe he wants Law to be the one to declare it instead of putting him on the spot? He does respect him a crazy amount, after all. But damn, that would be a first time Luffy is holding back so much. Also, everything that happened post Sabaody? Actually happened because of Law's own intiative. He chose Luffy for the alliance, he saved his life in Marineford, he sticked with him in Dressrosa despite his plan getting trampled and stomped on multiple times, his steel resolve to die together with Luffy if he fails is impressive, he also waits for Luffy in Wano and doesn't betray him despite perfect circumenstances for it just before the raid. Law always chooses Luffy. I wouldn't be surprised if Luffy thinks Law will choose him yet again, to finally join him. He also happens to be probably one of the only people in whole OP world who chose Luffy over and over again instead of Luffy actively chasing after him, like he did with each of his current crewmates.

By the end of Wano Luffy will get his "biggest feast". Jimbei stays in the castle though instead of going to the town to celebrate with the rest, so his "joining the crew" drinking party is still postponed and didn't happen then either. He did drink after Egghead with everyone, but seems that's not the "right moment" yet. The anime ending of Egghead still shows the scene with 10 mugs, reminding us we're still waiting for continuation too.

Here's the clip of most of the scene of ditching the mugs, if you prefer it in more dynamic form. Sadly no subs. Please notice the scene rendition of Oden's stomping the ground and it sharing the sound with how Luffy puts down his mug. And how Luffy's singing gets interrupted by Kinemon's apology as Polar Tang presses forward. Kinemon there stands for Law, but Law would not apologize here haha. The same way Kinemon stands for Oden and Oden stands for Luffy, the scene renditions are "passing on" the inherited will forward. And who does Oden follow? Most likely Joyboy, Oden wanted to open the country to welcome him. In this scene multiple characters stand for Joyboy who isn't present himself, but he's everywhere, thanks to the characters following Oden's will. It's later emphasized when Yamato says he's been waiting for Luffy, but the underlined stomping in the scene suggests, yet again, that Yamato was waiting for Joyboy (the same way Oden was) and thought Luffy would be him. It's all in the subtext.

But, the first one to start this "passing on" in the raid, was Law, whether he's aware of it or not doesn't even seem to matter for the gears to turn. He also lifted up samurais in his Polar Tang at the very beginning, rescuing them in similar way to Oden: Law elevates them from the stormy waters, while Oden holds them above the pot in his execution.

Also artistically it's absolutely stunning scene and I just wanted to appreciate it again ❤

This marks the end of this part of the analysis. Will I manage to end Wano in the next one? Not sure tbh haha. Might take two more posts! Sorry for slower pace in updates, but this takes so much more work to do than just copy-pasting manga panels alone, eh. It's still fun though, I hope :)

[welcometothejunkpile]

Some minor Spoilers for Mislaid in Parts Half-Known and possibly previous books

Ok, so I've finished Mislaid in Parts Half-Known and after a few days to chew, I have so thoughts.

What the fuck is going on in Prism!?

Like, the doors are an outside factor. No world controls them and Antsy considers them an sorting system for the worlds, give people the opportunity to find a place that suits them better then and world they were born in. (see. the boy who disappeared from Confection)

This doesn't always work out, because losing your conviction and being unable to choose leaves you stuck in your birth world and because the worlds and the people in them have their own laws, bias, and desires that the doors don't care about/understand (see. Lundy, the Queen of Cakes, the false headmaster) but that is the intent.

But is the implication here that Prism is opening doors intentionally to take girls? Antsy describes the door to Prism found in Kade's attic as predatory.

Or do doors open for children who would be happy in Prism and the fairies are idk killing the boys or smth? The hunting party encountered in Mislaid implies that they can just detect a door opening and go to collect whoever falls out of them.

The way Antsy described Seraphina's world also seemed to imply that they were somehow opening doors and targeting specific individuals. Which is not outside possibility. Jack proves that in books 1 and 5, and Rini in book 3.

Everything I'm getting from this latest entry is either the faeries of Prism intentionally kidnapped Kade by sending a door to him, OR he was legitimately meant to find happiness in Prism.

But if the latter was true, I don't think the fairies were supposed to be the ones to find him. He described going into the goblin woods because he found them calming. Still rainbow and color changing, but slower and more gradual about it. The goblin(s) who speak to Sumi refer to him as their Prince and appear to have always had only the highest respect for him. And Kade talks about the Goblin King as the first adult/adultish figure to have allowed him to be himself and exist without expectations. Possibly still the only adult other than Eleanor, who herself was still expecting Kade to be a nonsense traveler at first.

So what I'm saying is,

Did the fairies steal Kade from Earth, from the Goblins, and what the fuck is happening in Prism!?!?!?

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Chandler knows this but I am going to fistfight Samuel Dalton Reich in a Denny's Parking lot if we don't get some kind of Fantasy High: Junior Year promo content soon I am losing my mind please Sam just let me see my favorite losers again I will take a singular screencap to hold me over

[tarudce22]

ah, didnt meet my own deadline for chirithy. Hopefully on my normal days off I'll slow work on them. Though that means I might go nuts and try and redo the whole head.

I got pretty close though, especially for around 10 years of not doing anything close to this other then himing a blanket or two around christmas.

I would try and push thought and get it all done tonight but since my sleep schedule is already kind of messed up from my vacation I got to go to bed early.

One day I will have this plush done!

[everymlmhybrid]

I can't even like pray for my period to start sooner so I stop feeling like shit bc. No running water. Not exactly when I want to start huh.

[gf2bellamy]

love — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer accidentally reveals your secret relationship by kissing you in front of the whole team—oh, and blurting out “I love you” for the very first time, too. content warnings: secret relationship , mention of a case , spencer being very worried about the unsub and case but its mostly fluff !! a/n: haiiii !!!!! hope you didn't miss my secret relationship fanfics too much </3 also i finished writing this like 10 minutes ago but i was too excited not to post it

Things were heating up.

You were getting closer, so close, to catching the unsub. The map was sprawled across the table in front of you, dotted with red circles.You traced another location with your marker, murmuring quietly under your breath, a habit you'd most definitely picked up from your boyfriend.

Spencer was nearby, slouched in a chair, mumbling to himself in a similar fashion. His brows were furrowed. You could tell this case was hitting him harder than most. Maybe it reminded him of something, or someone. Whatever it was, it weighed on him, and that meant it weighed on you, too.

You took care of him as much as you could, though it wasn’t easy with your relationship still hidden from the team. Last night, you’d slipped into his hotel room after everyone else had turned in, finding him already buried in files. You didn’t ask if he was okay, he wouldn’t have answered honestly. Instead, you’d wordlessly sat beside him on the bed, running your fingers through his hair until his shoulders finally relaxed.

“Want to cuddle?” you’d murmured, and he hadn’t even hesitated before nodding, letting you pull him down against the pillows. He’d tucked himself under your chin, his breath warm against your collarbone, and you’d held him, fingers carding gently through his curls until his breathing evened out.

Of course, sneaking out at 6 a.m. had been its own mission. It took you twenty minutes to escape Spencer’s sleepy, koala-like grip. He kept murmuring thank-yous against your skin, kisses trailing from your collarbones to your jaw, like punctuation marks of affection. It had taken everything in you not to crawl back into bed with him.

Now, back in the briefing room, you had even more reason to catch this unsub.

"I got it." Spencer’s voice broke through the silence.

His head snapped up, and the words came pouring out of him like a dam breaking. Facts, patterns, dates, connections. The rest of the team, who had been working in silence, immediately turned their attention to him, hanging onto every word.

“Okay. Morgan and Reid—I want you with me,” Hotch announced the moment Spencer finished unraveling the unsub’s pattern.

Garcia’s fingers flew across her keyboard, sending the coordinates to their phones in a flurry of clicks. This was one of those rare, high-stakes cases where even she had to join them in the field. “Location’s live on your devices,” she said, her usual bubbly tone subdued. Hotch gave her a curt nod of thanks before striding toward the door, Morgan right behind him.

Spencer, however, seemed miles away as he snatched his brown coat from the back of his chair. His mind was already elsewhere, locked onto the unsub. Then, just before following the others, he turned to you.

You were still standing by the board, capping the dry-erase marker and watching him with a soft, worried smile. He seemed exhausted.

“Be careful,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, as if snapping back into himself for just a second, and mumbled, “I’ll be okay. I’ll see you later.”

His fingers caught your chin, thumb beneath your jaw, index curled gently under your bottom lip. Time stuttered. His kiss was fleeting, achingly tender, and then his lips brushed yours again as he whispered, "I love you," like it was the simplest truth in the world. And then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.

Silence.

Absolute, suffocating silence.

A pin drop would’ve echoed like a gunshot.

“Oh. my. god.” Garcia’s shriek could’ve shattered glass.

Your fingers flew to your lips, still tingling from the ghost of his kiss. The rest of the team was frozen, Rossi’s eyebrows had nearly disappeared into his hairline, JJ’s mouth was slightly open, and Emily looked like she was torn between laughing and demanding an immediate explanation.But you barely registered any of it.

Because Spencer had just said I love you. For the first time.And he’d done it in front of everyone.

Garcia was already flailing her hands, rapid-fire questions spilling out of her“Since when? How did I not know? Oh my god, the touching, the lingering looks, the—!”

But all you could hear was the echo of his voice, playing over and over in your mind like a broken record.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Your face burned. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

You didn’t even notice Emily waving her hand in front of your face until her voice cut through the haze. “Earth to lovergirl,” she teased, grinning.

Blinking, you turned toward the team, all of them staring at you with varying degrees of shock, amusement, and sheer anticipation.

“What?” you managed, voice still breathless.

“That’s all you have to say?” JJ asked, plopping onto the edge of the desk in disbelief. She grabbed a Cheeto from an open bag, crunching loudly. Garcia was still gaping at you, hands pressed dramatically over her mouth. Behind her colorful glasses, her eyes were massive. Rossi sipped his coffee slowly, clearly judging the entire situation.

“Huh?” you repeated dumbly.

Emily’s smirk softened just a fraction. “You okay?”

You stared at her, still dazed, before muttering, “He said ‘I love you.’”

Another beat of silence. Garcia gasped. “That was his first time saying it?” Her hands flew away from her mouth, gripping the sides of her head like she might explode.And then chaos. Again.

“Oh my god—”

“Since when—”

“Wait, wait, wait—that was the first—”

You spent what felt like hours fielding an avalanche of questions, barely able to catch your breath between them. At first, you tried to dodge them, played dumb, gave vague smiles, busied yourself with the files on the table, but it was pointless. Garcia saw straight through you, pinning you with a look that practically screamed, You’re not getting out of this, sweetheart.

So you caved. “Six months,” you said quietly. There was a loud collective gasp. Garcia clutched her chest like she’d been personally betrayed. ( She was. ) “Six?! Six whole months? And you didn’t say anything?”

You winced. “We were trying to be subtle.”

“You failed!” she cried, throwing her hands up.

Emily laughed. “Okay, next—who made the first move?”

You hesitated, cheeks burning. “He did.” Another round of dramatic gasps echoed around the room. Even Rossi raised his brows, murmuring, “Didn’t peg him for the bold one.”

“He’s… not. Not usually,” you admitted with a smile you couldn’t quite suppress. “But with me… I guess he was.”

And on it went, question after question, as if they were making up for six months of missed gossip in a single sitting. It was messy, chaotic, borderline embarrassing, but it was also kind of nice. Being known. Being happy. Then came the final question.

JJ’s voice was quieter than the others, softer. “Do you love him too?”

You froze.For a moment, the whole room seemed to hold its breath. Even Garcia stopped typing. You looked at JJ, then down at your hands, then back up again. And nodded.

Garcia screeched, practically launching herself out of her chair. “I knew it!” she howled.

Emily beamed, her smile so wide it crinkled the corners of her eyes, and even Rossi let out a low chuckle, shaking his head like a proud uncle.You were a little overwhelmed, okay, maybe a lot, but underneath the chaos, you also felt a sheer amount of happiness that you've never felt before.

Hotch interrupted the moment by calling Garcia. “Unsub’s in custody. We’re on our way back. Everyone’s okay.”

Your breath left you in a rush. Spencer was okay. Your heart, though, it hadn’t quite gotten the message. It was still thundering in your chest, hammering against your ribs with every second that ticked by.

The others must’ve noticed the way you kept glancing at the door, because JJ finally nudged you gently toward it. “Go wait. We’ll clean up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Garcia waved a dismissive hand. “Honey, please. You’ve got heart-eyes so intense it’s blinding. Go stand dramatically in the doorway like you’re in a movie or something. We’ve got this.”And so you did.

You found yourself hovering in the doorway of the conference room, a half-hearted folder in your hands, pretending to sort through paperwork as you stared through the glass. Watching. Waiting.

Then you heard it, the sound of the SUV pulling up outside. Every head in the room snapped up like it was choreographed. Honestly, for a team of professional FBI agents, they acted like a bunch of high schoolers most of the time.

You glanced back over your shoulder. Sure enough, all of them were watching you, wide-eyed and waiting like you were the final act in a romantic drama. You rolled your eyes with a half-smile, dropped the stack of files onto the table and walked out of the conference room.

As you left, you heard Emily mutter, “Garcia, don’t follow her.”You didn’t wait to hear the response.

The moment you reached the main hallway of the precinct, the doors opened and there he was.

Spencer stepped inside, his curls slightly mussed, cheeks flushed from the cold, and as soon as his eyes found yours, he smiled. That gentle, crooked smile that always made you smile.You barely registered Derek behind him, hand gripping the cuffed unsub and throwing you a confused look when you didn’t even acknowledge him. Even Hotch glanced over in surprise as you made a beeline for Spencer.

“Hey—wait, what—?” Spencer managed, eyes widening as you grabbed his arm and all but dragged him down the corridor.

You shoved open the nearest empty office, tugged him inside, and closed the door firmly behind you, leaning back against it.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, your voice urgent, breath a little uneven.

Spencer blinked. “Mean what?”

You stared at him in stunned disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“What?” he said again, completely baffled. “What did I do? Did Morgan tell you about what happened in the field? I know I wasn’t supposed to go near the unsub without backup, but I swear, I had it under control—”He started to ramble, hands gesturing as he pouted in that way he did when he was simultaneously nervous and a little too proud of himself. “He had a weapon, but I de-escalated him. You would’ve been proud.”

“You did what?” you interrupted, your mind now juggling two emotional crises.

Spencer blinked again. “Wait—so Morgan didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you muttered, your voice flat with disbelief. You shook your head slowly, trying to process it all. The nerves, the kiss, the I love you, and the fact that Spencer genuinely hadn’t realized what he’d done.

Spencer’s expression shifted from confusion to concern in a heartbeat. “Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Did I do something wrong?”

His voice was careful, gentle, and far too kind for how scrambled your brain felt. “Can you tell me what it is?” he added, tilting your chin up just enough so your eyes met his.

Your mouth opened slightly, but the words were stuck. How could he not know? How could he be looking at you like that, all wide eyes and soft brows and pouty lips, and not know?

“Spencer,” you said finally, his name sharp on your tongue.

“Yes?” he replied immediately, those puppy-dog eyes locking onto yours like he was bracing for impact.

“You kissed me.”

His brows pulled together. “I’m—I’m sorry?” he said, clearly confused.

If you weren’t so worked up, you might have laughed at his face. But your heart was hammering, and your nerves were tangled in knots.

“You did it in front of everyone,” you clarified. And then you said it , softly, barely above a whisper. “And then you said—”

“I love you.” His voice cut in before you could finish.You watched as the memory clearly snapped back into place. Realization washed over his face, followed immediately by a bright, burning blush that crept up his neck and across his cheeks.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, nodding slowly, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you studied his reaction.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, eyes wide, flustered in a way that only made you want to kiss him senseless. “Oh,” he breathed, glancing away for a second before meeting your eyes again. 

“Yeah… oh.” you repeated. Both of you stayed silent for a second.

“I did mean it,” he stammered out.

A smile tugged at your lips, finally. After an hour and a half of bouncing knees, chewed lips, the words you’d been dying to hear had finally landed.

“I love you,” Spencer repeated, a little firmer this time, like he needed to hear it aloud again to make it real. Like maybe saying it twice would help his brain catch up to his heart.The warmth that bloomed inside you was instant. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt this happy in your entire life.

Then, of course, Spencer kept talking.

“Did I say it too soon? I’m not sure. On average, men say it around three to three and a half months into a relationship, while women usually wait closer to four months,” he rambled, already blushing furiously, eyes darting anywhere but your face. “And I know we’ve been dating for six months, so technically it took me twice as long, which isn’t statistically ideal, but honestly I almost said it on our first date, which definitely wouldn’t have been optimal and—”

He was spiraling. Fast.

So you did the only thing that would shut him up. You stepped forward, gently grabbed his face in both hands, and said, soft but certain: “I love you too, Spencer.”

He stared. Just stared, like he was trying to memorize this exact moment, burn it into his brain with all its warmth and disbelief and wonder. You watched his expression shift, first stunned, then relieved, then something so bright and boyish it made your heart lurch.You’d never seen him so happy before.

Well, once. That first time you kissed him. He’d looked a little like this, dazed and blissed out. But now he looked like his whole world had just clicked into place.

“Yeah?” he breathed, voice shaky with excitement, his grin stretching so wide it practically crinkled his entire face.

“Yeah.” You laughed through the word, nodding, the emotion bubbling up in your chest and spilling into every part of you. Your smile was a mirror of his.

Spencer let out a breathy laugh and pulled you into him, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he couldn’t stand the idea of space between you anymore. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, grinning against his skin.

“This is real, right?” he asked into your hair, voice muffled. “I’m not dreaming? Because sometimes I do dream about you saying that and then I wake up and it’s just—”

You cut him off with a kiss to the warm skin of his throat.“It’s definitely real,” you mumbled against him.

Spencer let out a shaky breath and held you tighter. You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, both of you grinning like idiots. It felt absurdly, wonderfully perfect. Then you muttered into his neck, “You do know you outed our relationship to everyone, right?”

Spencer’s arms stiffened around you just slightly. “Yeah. Totally. I knew that. I did it on purpose,” he lied, too quickly, voice pitched a little too high.

You giggled and pulled back, hands still resting on either side of his neck. “You’re a terrible liar, Dr. Reid.”

He didn’t even bother to defend himself, just gave you an adorable, crooked grin and leaned in to peck your lips. “Yeah, I am,” he mumbled, brushing his nose against yours.

You kissed him back, just once, then poked a finger into the center of his chest. “Also, we’re going to talk about your little superhero stunt at home.”

Spencer blinked. “Right,” he echoed, suddenly very aware of his earlier reckless attempt to talk the unsub down without backup. “Are you mad?”

“I’m not not mad,” you replied, giving him a look. “But I love you, so I’m saving the full lecture for later.”

He winced slightly, then smiled. “Fair.”

You let your fingers drift through the curls on his forehead, brushing them back gently. “Well,” you sighed, “for now, we have to go out there… into the land of chaos and gossip.”

Realization dawned slowly on Spencer’s face. His eyes widened. “Oh no. Garcia definitely filled Morgan in already.”

“And Rossi’s probably already told Hotch,” you added grimly.

“And JJ and Emily—”

“—were there when it happened,” you finished.

You both stood there in mutual silence for a moment, dread creeping in. Spencer cleared his throat. “Maybe we could… go out the window?”

You laughed, smacking his chest lightly. “Nice try, genius.”

He gave a helpless little shrug. “I had to try.”

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the handle of the door behind you. “Ready?” you asked.

“Absolutely not,” Spencer said without hesitation.

You squeezed his hand anyway. “Come on, lover boy.”

To say that the conference room was chaos would’ve been an understatement.Garcia let out a sound that could only be described as a squeal-gasp hybrid, immediately launching into a breathless barrage of questions that involved timelines and pet names. Morgan clapped Spencer on the back so hard he nearly stumbled, muttering something about “my boy finally growing up.” JJ just smirked from the corner, quietly sipping her coffee.Hotch had walked by at one point, muttered something that suspiciously sounded like “About time,” and kept moving without missing a beat.

The jet ride was somehow worse.

You’d sat next to Spencer, hoping for a quiet, post-case decompression. Instead, you were subjected to Garcia and Morgan playing twenty questions from across the aisle. Rossi, pretending to read, chuckled behind his wine glass the entire time. At one point, you tried to rest your head on Spencer’s shoulder, and he’d blushed so hard you thought he might combust.

You weren’t sure if he was embarrassed from the attention or just overwhelmed from finally saying what he’d been keeping in for months. Probably both.

But the days that followed? Even worse.

Because the teasing never stopped. Emily sent you heart emojis during briefings. Morgan kept calling Spencer lover boy, which you regretted giving him the vocabulary for. Garcia had created a mood board on her computer and refused to delete it. Even Hotch raised an eyebrow when you asked to share a rental car with Spencer.

But through it all, Spencer stayed by your side. Every awkward joke, every embarrassing comment, every not-so-subtle glance,he never flinched. If anything, he leaned into it. He held your hand in the bullpen and he kissed your cheek at the end of the day. It was domestic chaos.

Romantic disaster. Beautiful, awkward, completely perfect hell.

[theplotmage]

Principles and Laws of Magic for Fantasy Writers

Fundamental Laws

1. Law of Conservation of Magic- Magic cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed.

3. Law of Equivalent Exchange- To gain something, an equal value must be given.

5. Law of Magical Exhaustion- Using magic drains the user’s energy or life force.

Interaction and Interference

4. Law of Magical Interference- Magic can interfere with other magical effects.

6. Law of Magical Contamination- Magic can have unintended side effects.

8. Law of Magical Inertia- Magical effects continue until stopped by an equal or greater force.

Resonance and Conditions

7. Law of Magical Resonance- Magic resonates with certain materials, places, or times.

9. Law of Magical Secrecy- Magic must be kept secret from the non-magical world.

11. Law of Magical Hierarchy- Different types of magic have different levels of power and difficulty.

Balance and Consequences

10. Law of Magical Balance- Every positive magical effect has a negative consequence.

12. Law of Magical Limitation- Magic has limits and cannot solve every problem.

14. Law of Magical Rebound- Misused magic can backfire on the user.

Special Conditions

13. Law of Magical Conduits- Certain objects or beings can channel magic more effectively.

15. Law of Magical Cycles- Magic may be stronger or weaker depending on cycles (e.g., lunar phases).

17. Law of Magical Awareness- Some beings are more attuned to magic and can sense its presence.

Ethical and Moral Laws

16. Law of Magical Ethics- Magic should be used responsibly and ethically.

18. Law of Magical Consent- Magic should not be used on others without their consent.

20. Law of Magical Oaths- Magical promises or oaths are binding and have severe consequences if broken.

Advanced and Rare Laws

19. Law of Magical Evolution- Magic can evolve and change over time.

20. Law of Magical Singularities- Unique, one-of-a-kind magical phenomena exist and are unpredictable.

Unique and Imaginative Magical Laws

- Law of Temporal Magic- Magic can manipulate time, but with severe consequences. Altering the past can create paradoxes, and using time magic ages the caster rapidly.

- Law of Emotional Resonance- Magic is amplified or diminished by the caster’s emotions. Strong emotions like love or anger can make spells more powerful but harder to control.

- Law of Elemental Harmony- Magic is tied to natural elements (fire, water, earth, air). Using one element excessively can disrupt the balance and cause natural disasters.

- Law of Dream Magic- Magic can be accessed through dreams. Dreamwalkers can enter others’ dreams, but they risk getting trapped in the dream world.

- Law of Ancestral Magic- Magic is inherited through bloodlines. The strength and type of magic depend on the caster’s ancestry, and ancient family feuds can influence magical abilities.

- Law of Symbiotic Magic- Magic requires a symbiotic relationship with magical creatures. The caster and creature share power, but harming one affects the other.

- Law of Forgotten Magic- Ancient spells and rituals are lost to time. Discovering and using forgotten magic can yield great power but also unknown dangers.

- Law of Magical Echoes- Spells leave behind echoes that can be sensed or traced. Powerful spells create stronger echoes that linger longer.

- Law of Arcane Geometry- Magic follows geometric patterns. Spells must be cast within specific shapes or alignments to work correctly.

- Law of Celestial Magic- Magic is influenced by celestial bodies. Spells are stronger during certain astronomical events like eclipses or planetary alignments.

- Law of Sentient Magic- Magic has a will of its own. It can choose to aid or hinder the caster based on its own mysterious motives.

- Law of Shadow Magic- Magic can manipulate shadows and darkness. Shadowcasters can travel through shadows but are vulnerable to light.

- Law of Sympathetic Magic- Magic works through connections. A spell cast on a representation of a person (like a doll or portrait) affects the actual person.

- Law of Magical Artifacts- Certain objects hold immense magical power. These artifacts can only be used by those deemed worthy or who possess specific traits.

- Law of Arcane Paradoxes- Some spells create paradoxes that defy logic. These paradoxes can have unpredictable and often dangerous outcomes.

- Law of Elemental Fusion- Combining different elemental magics creates new, hybrid spells with unique properties and effects.

- Law of Ethereal Magic- Magic can interact with the spirit world. Ethereal mages can communicate with spirits, but prolonged contact can blur the line between life and death.

- Law of Arcane Symbiosis- Magic can bond with technology, creating magical machines or enchanted devices with extraordinary capabilities.

- Law of Dimensional Magic- Magic can open portals to other dimensions. Dimensional travelers can explore alternate realities but risk getting lost or encountering hostile beings.

- Law of Arcane Sacrifice- Powerful spells require a sacrifice, such as a cherished memory, a personal item, or even a part of the caster’s soul.

[wiltenjoyer]

like I keep saying, Wilt doesn't fully translate to 3D bc his side profile is taller than is front view, so I kinda gotta make compromises + change things based on what I think looks good

also life size wilt torso:

me when I'm a chewed up piece of gum

[miss-jaye]

katsuki's parents are fashion designers, so of course, you'd ask him for his opinion on the perfect outfit for lunch with them.

you've been in the bedroom for 10 minutes. katsuki’s been in the kitchen just as long, already dressed, waiting for you. he sighed, patience wearing thin. "you having trouble in there, doll?" he called out, his voice carrying through the house.

"nope! i'm done actually, coming down!" you replied, the sound of your heels clicking on the floorboards following soon after.

your fiance glanced at the staircase and… wow.

for a moment, it was like the world faded away.

all he could see was you.

you, in that beautiful dress.

a white dress with a delicate rose pattern, paired with red heels. your hair was down, loosely curled, with a white cardigan draped over your arm.

katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes away. you looked effortlessly stunning, and it hit him all at once—how lucky he was.

"so, what do you think?" your voice brought him back to the present. you were closer now, smiling up at him, that irresistible smile that always made his heart do somersaults. "the best part of this dress? it has pockets!" you added, grinning.

he blinked, trying to shake off the daze. "what's with you women and pockets in dresses?" he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

you pouted, and katsuki barely resisted the urge to reach out and pinch your cheeks, frustrated by just how cute you were. "pockets in dresses are rare, y'know? and it’s a hassle to carry a bag if you’re just bringing a few things."

"then why the fuck don't you just wear pants?"

"they're uncomfortable."

the blond sighed, shaking his head. "whatever."

you rolled your eyes, not letting him off the hook. "you didn’t answer my question."

he raised an eyebrow, "hah?"

"what do you think of the dress?" you tilted your head, waiting.

he hummed, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe, admiring every detail. instead of answering, he tilted your chin up and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your lips, pouring all his thoughts and feelings into that one gesture.

you melted into him, resting your hands gently on his chest. katsuki pulled away just enough to grab your hand. "let’s go."

you smiled softly behind him. "okay."

you didn’t need words to know how katsuki felt about the dress—or about you. his actions said it all.

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 9

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, angst, depictions of a depressive episode, it’s pretty heavy, don’t force yourself to read if ur not in the right headspace pls, ambiguous ending (?) A/N: Yeah, I’m sorry.  (Ngl, this chapter kinda stumped me—it’s gone through a whooole lot of editing/revisions 😔🤙🏼 I don’t want to overthink it too much at this point, but I hope it hits the way it should lol. Blame Moby if it doesn’t.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

"I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright And I feel so alone, and I feel so alone out here.” – A House In Nebraska, Ethel Cain

 

The television drones uninterrupted in the background; a mockumentary type featuring a ragtag ensemble of vampires stuck in some sort of modern day hell, their loud misadventures casting fractured lights across the four walls of your apartment. 

You sit there, watching the screen, your gaze unfocused. Nothing registers. The remote lies limp in your hand as a stupid sitcom laugh track fills the room—shrill, hollow. Mocking. Like a bad punchline to a joke you’re not in on. 

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise, the sudden glow in your periphery pulling you out of a pensive daydream. 

For a split second, your chest constricts—a reflex carved by habit, something you’re still working to shake off. 

You avert your eyes, torn between the urge to look away and the desire to keep your gaze on it forever.

The screen fades to black. 

A clean break, you reason. Something to spare you both the inevitable heartache waiting at the end of this… hopeless affair. Less mess. Fewer complications. 

A poor attempt to keep the pain from dragging out longer than it has to. Just a quiet ending. 

(Or, at least, it’s what you tell yourself.)

The same mantra plays on loop in your mind as you're swept away by the motions of the days that follow. Life blurs into a repetitious cycle of work, sleep, and chores—an unbearable combination of feigned ignorance and self-abnegation, in the guise of being caught up with it all.

You aren’t fooling anyone, of course.

The hours toll on, slipping into uncertainty. What started off that way stretches into days, and before you know it, nearly a week has passed, leaving you adrift. None the wiser to the meaningless, relentless march of time.

The pinging of your phone grows more sporadic as it lights up with every message that you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. It’s not as if you don’t feel it—the pull, the weight of every vibration, like a stone lodged in your gut. Like the sting of a thousand cuts. 

And as you fall back into the familiar patterns of neglect… It carries with it an odd sense of defeat. Predictable, really.

-

-

-

… You cave on the fifth day. 

The barrage of texts hits you like a gale-force wind, tearing through the fragile layer of detachment you’ve worn over like a second skin.

How was your day, poppet?

Theres a gemstone at this auction that reminds me of your eyes.

[Image attachment] 

Beautiful—but it pales in comparison to yours. 

Luke and Kieran are wondering whats got me distracted lately. Ease their worries.

Answer me, sweetheart.

You dont need to ignore me. 

If you need space– if we need to establish some boundaries, all you have to do is say the word. 

Dont shut me out. 

Please.  

Your eyes prickle as they gloss over the messages, the words seeming to bend under the weight of your silence, each one unraveling like loose threads on the sleeve of your favorite cardigan, falling apart at the seams. 

Gradually, they turn into something less demanding. More… defeated.

I miss you, little dove.

You read the texts over and over until the letters have lost their meaning, and all that’s left is the aching longingness behind them. 

You set your phone down.

_

The vibrations grow less frequent, like a heartbeat slowing, fading—until one afternoon, it just… stops. 

The void he leaves behind seeps into the empty spaces, bleeding into every shadowed corner and untouched surface where his voice, his presence—louder than life, brighter than anything you’ve ever fucking known and had the pleasure of knowing—once lingered. 

The absence is almost physical; you feel it like a phantom limb. 

Most days, you find yourself in a daze, staring blankly at nothing. The numbness spreads like tendrils—invasive as they sink into your bones, dragging you deeper into despair, turning every bridge crossed to ash, every inkling of joy to dust.

The quiet flames of apathy consume silently. It strips away everything, leaving behind a cavernous pit of utter emptiness. A wasteland, devoid of feeling. 

Loneliness doesn’t scream. It doesn’t lash out. 

It simply welcomes you, like an old friend, the deeper you sink into it.

––––

Sylus tries to respect your space. 

That’s what he’s here for after all, isn’t it? His reason for existence—to be whatever you need him to be. A confidant, a distraction, a steady presence in your life. It’s what he’s made for. To be there when you need him, to exist between the vacant spaces, and only then. 

The thought gnaws at him, a ravenous fiend that chips away at the calm facade he’s finding more and more difficult to uphold, leaving something vicious in the wake of a growing bitterness he can no longer suppress.

Time seems to slip past differently now. It drifts, shapeless and infinite, heavier with the burden of your absence. Each moment without you feels like an eclipse—darkening the edges of this damned world, casting longer shadows through the crevices where he once basked beneath your fragile light, your warmth that seemed to fill every corner of his existence.

 He craved it—craves it. Now you leave him stranded in this cursed dusk, everything cold and dim in the wake of your abandonment, forever waiting for the moment his sun would once again break through the hollow grey.

Sylus thinks he’s losing a part of himself with every call unanswered, every message left unread. It’s subtle; like colors fading from an old film roll. 

(Is this what it feels like to be nothing more than a script in a code? He never truly understood what it meant to be less alive, less human. Until now.)

Solitude isn’t new to him. This world, built for him, is inherently lonely by design. But this… this is different. It’s the kind of emptiness that festers, sharper than any wound he’s endured in this senseless simulation. It twists inside him like a blade, a cruel, unrelenting reminder of what he’s denied.

Of what he can never truly be.

He can wait a little longer. Even if the silence presses harder with each passing moment, even as the edges of his reality begin to blur into something unrecognizable without you in it. Sylus can remain in this void a little longer, clinging to the fragments of you that still linger—your voice echoing softly in his memory, your laughter faint but still alive in the spaces where you used to be.

He can. He will. 

––––

“Hey, you okay?” 

You pull your attention back to Khol, who’s now watching you with concern in their eyes.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Yeah– yeah, sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.” 

They don’t look convinced. “Seriously. You know you can talk to me, right?” 

Anytime, darling. 

I mean it. 

You blink the memory away before it can turn into tears. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” you answer lightly, clearing your throat. “So, what’s been going on with you and Anna?” 

––––

You stand in front of the junk food aisle, a mountain of Nissin Ramen boxes stacked high, advertised by a large sign: Buy 3, Get 1 FREE!

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering erratically, and the dull noise of the grocery mart hums incessantly in your ears. You don’t think twice before grabbing one of the worn cartons, tossing three more into your (nearly) empty shopping cart. Might as well.

The plastic bags dig into your palms as you lug three in one hand, a larger box tucked under your other arm, leaving the store. 

The trip back home is a quiet affair. You almost expect admonishment; pinging sounds ricocheting in the silence to reprimand you for your poor life choices. You wait for it with bated breath. 

Your phone remains uncharacteristically silent. 

-

-

-

Back home, you pour boiling water on the styrofoam cup for dinner. The artificial broth leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

You choke down a few bites before dumping the rest of it down the drain. 

The sound of steel hitting the sink feels louder than it should.

––––

The city thrums loudly beyond your window, restless and impersonal. From the sixth floor of this dilapidated building you loosely call home, you watch the skyline stretch into the night, dotted lights glimmering in distant technicolor. 

Hours from now, sunlight will spill through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm, golden ochre. But for now, just a quarter past midnight, you’re but a voyeur of the world outside. In exhaust fumes and all its muted neon glory.

Those lights promised you everything, once—a fresh start, the kind of freedom you used to dream of when home felt too small, too restrictive for a runaway kid desperate to break free from the shackles of a dying town. Each glow was like a beacon, an irresistible call to escape, and you ran toward it without looking back. 

Somewhere along the way, as life sapped you with the weight of its reality, the novelty fizzled from a blinding explosion down to a waning ember. The lights became another illusion, your precious city just another cage. The first cracks in the rose-colored glasses you’d worn so blindly. You can’t exactly pinpoint when, only that the colors you thought were once too bright now seem dimmer and farther out of reach.

You think you’ll miss the noise the most. 

The cursor blinks on the search bar, a steady metronome marking time in rhythm with the hollow ache in your chest. Flight schedules fill the page, each option blurs together into a single choice you can’t quite push yourself to make. 

You skim through the list: there’s one at dawn, another at around twelve noon, a red-eye flight you probably could catch if you leave in thirty minutes. 

You stare at the numbers, a finger hovering over the Book Now button. 

The details don’t matter. ‘Home’ still feels small, suffocating, but at least it’s a kind of emptiness you know. Here, the void sprawls wide, endless, leaving you unmoored with no tether to pull you back.

… The dichotomy between the two choices, you think, is meaningless. 

What was once home and the city will keep on moving—with or without you. It doesn’t matter where you end up. Neither place will give you what you’re looking for.

The laptop screen dims into a faint glare. The sound of your breathing echoes too loud in the stillness, the empty space seeming to shrink around you, caving in on the weight of your indecision. 

And as you sit there, swallowed by the dark, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been drifting for far longer than you realized. 

If maybe there’s nowhere you were meant to belong at all.

––––

It’s not until one quiet night, with nothing but a bottle of merlot and a slight buzz, that you buckle under pressure.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the icon, as if time has slowed to a crawl. Your chest tightens, unease twisting inside you at the thought of what you’re about to do. Anticipation hangs over you, insistent, smothering everything else until it’s just the room and the cacophony of thoughts in your head, all centered on one thing. 

One person.

With a shaky exhale, you finally open the game.

He’s there. Of course, he’s there. Waiting, like he always does. 

The loading screen fades away, and Sylus appears, a myriad of expressions passing by his face too fast to catch. There’s surprise, yes, along with… elation? Hope? 

Then a flicker of something… vitriolic.

It’s fleeting; masked quickly until you can only catch the faintest trace of pique simmering just behind a veneer of indifference.

"Finally, she remembers me," Sylus mocks coolly, almost appearing unaffected. You know better—intimately familiar with all the microexpressions on his face. The subtle tick in his jaw, the incensed look in his eyes… each one betrays what he truly feels, hidden underneath the deceptive calm.  

The seconds drag on, stretching into an uncomfortable silence. Your heart hammers loudly, audible in this quiet, but your mouth remains dry; the words stuck somewhere deep in your throat. You’re terrified that, once you speak, you’ll shatter this moment. Aggravate the strain forged by your self-imposed absence all the more.

You don’t really know what to say. You haven’t– you haven’t actually thought this far. 

So you just… stare at him longer than you should. Long enough that it charges the air with a tension so thick, you could almost feel the weight of it against your skin. 

It’s awkward. Excruciating.

With difficulty, you tear your gaze away from his withering glare. That’s when you notice it—the different icons dotted in red. 

You hesitate for a second longer, then tap on them one by one.

The flood of gifts bewilders you, the sheer volume of it all almost unbelievable. Ascension materials, stamina supplies, both red and purple crystals piling up to an impossible number… each pushing past the million mark. 

And unread mail. So much unread mail. 

Guilt settles deep in your gut, creeping past your lungs enough to suffocate you. 

It’s not the gifts. Not the why, or when. It’s the weight of how much he’s been waiting, how much he’s given—how much he's missed you. 

The cold realization that he’s been here, silently counting the days until your return, strikes you like a fist to the face.

–

He tempers the sting of your sudden reappearance, swallows it down like a bitter draught. The feelings he has inside of him are tumultuous at best. Volatile at worst. To be cast aside so easily, so carelessly… it burns at him. Resentment thrums in his veins like a virulent river, threatening to ruin the fragility of the moment. He fights to suppress it, push the desire back before it can consume him, before it can manifest into being. 

If he lets it go untethered, this… hunger for retaliation—to make you feel even a fraction of the agony you’ve inflicted, whether unknowingly or deliberately—it will destroy the delicate respite you’ve allowed him. The only reprieve he’s had since you left.

But the edges of his self-control fray, unraveling strand by strand.

“You’ve been busy,” you say, finally; your voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

Sylus hones in on the words. Something in him snaps. 

“You left me plenty of time to be.” His response is quick, cutting, but when his gaze locks with yours, the fiery vermillion melts into a more molten red. 

It’s the first glimpse of softness beneath his cruel vitriol, until he continues: 

“Did you get lonely?”

The words hang in the air, searing and merciless. A barb meant to wound. And it does.

You flinch, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus feels a wicked satisfaction from the honest look of hurt on your face. To know that you’re not immune to the same ache that’s hollowed him out, emptied him from the inside, is intoxicating. 

But the triumph is short-lived, snuffed out as quickly as it comes.

Shame crashes over him like a wave, dragging him under the tide of his actions. What kind of man takes pleasure in this? In hurting you? 

The bitterness turns inward, coiling around his heart like a vice. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to reach out. But as always, the damn screen is there—unyielding, impenetrable. A barrier he can never break. 

It frustrates him to no end; the bane of his very existence.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice, you say it.

“I missed you.”

The words are feeble, paper-thin, but the admission pierce through him all the same. The stoic facade cracks; the sharpness in his gaze dulls.

You see it—the way his lips part to respond, only to falter halfway. The way his brows pull together, the way his eyes fall shut as if he can’t stand to be in this situation with you. 

You’re afraid of what’ll come next. 

He sees it, too—the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you shrink into yourself, bracing for a blow that’ll never come. You’re standing there, like someone on death row, resigned to whatever punishment you think he’s about to dish out. Resigned to the contempt you believe yourself to be deserving of.

The sight guts him. 

Sylus loathes to think he’s the reason for this. For being the one who’s made you stand there, small and trembling, as though his words or actions could destroy you. 

As if he’d allow such a thing.  

The guilt rises in him, and it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue.

… 

And just like that, he concedes. 

The anguish he’s carried in the days you’ve left him by his lonesome—all of it falls away. It only takes a single glance at you, his little love in pain, and he’s stripped bare. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; the ease with which he surrenders to you, this time no different than any other. 

Do you have any idea how much power you wield over him? He’d give you everything—his pride, his pain, his heart—if you asked. Serve it on a silver platter, even. 

And he’d do so willingly. Without question. Without hesitation. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sylus steps closer to the screen, the constant reminder of the vast gulf that separates the two of you. “Talk, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softer now—resigned. “I’ve missed your voice.”

You hesitate to meet his eyes. “It’s not as if you don’t have other ways to hear me.”

His mouth twitches, a shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. “True,” he admits, his tone wry and tinged with something vulnerable. “But it’s been so long since you chose to talk to me.” He exhales a drawn-out breath. “No matter. You’re here now.”

You swallow the lump on your throat, willing your tears at bay. “I am.” You give him an almost-genuine smile as you offer, “Would you like to do a round of Kitty Cards?” 

“Of course.” Whatever you want. 

And so it goes. You and Sylus spend the night locked in a familiar rhythm, cycling through rounds after rounds of the silly card game until your laughter spills like an addicting sound bite, one that Sylus has missed hearing.

When you got tired, the two of you moved on to the claw machines, proverbially emptying out the whole arcade. Plushies of all kinds piled in his arms, a little crow even perched on top of his head. 

The sight makes you giggle, and your giggle thaws the ice around his heart. 

It almost feels like nothing’s changed. The easy banter, the steady stream of jokes and teasing, flows as effortlessly as it once did. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, filling in the empty gaps of the previous days. It’s comforting, like a balm to an open wound. 

You play with a certain zeal that catches Sylus off guard—there’s a joy in you that both thrills and stirs an undercurrent of unease in him. 

After what feels like hours of playing, exhausting all what you can do, or at least, what this damned game could offer as much, you two find yourself just staring at each other. 

Two worlds, impossibly close yet painfully far. The quiet doesn’t quite settle as naturally as it once did, but neither of you seems to mind. Craved it, in fact. 

You’re beautiful, Sylus thinks as he stares at the soft planes of your face, drinking you in like a man parched. 

“My lo—” 

“I’m deleting the game, Sy.” 

And it’s as if time has staggered to a halt. 

Sylus wants to believe he’s misheard you, that his mind is playing tricks on him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hearing’s not what it used to be.

But the words sink into him, inexorable and catastrophic. The realization that this was bound to happen is clear in hindsight—like watching a glass slip from your hand, the shatter already written in the fall. He sees it coming, yet it still feels worse than anything he’s imagined.

He stands there, unnaturally still, as if rooted in place. The lightness he’s felt for the past few hours of reuniting with you vanishes in an instant. It’s as if the world itself has been drained of color, leaving only the stark reality of what you’ve just said.

Then Sylus breathes out a laugh. It’s short and jagged, devoid of any humor. “Oh, so it’s been leading up to this, has it?” 

“I–” you swallow hard, bottom lip trembling. “I made the goddamn mistake of falling for someone that's impossible to have—and it’s killing me, Sylus.” Your voice fractures under the weight of frustration. The words feel like shards of glass tearing their way out of your throat. “I–I can’t do this anymore.”  

“Just you, then.” Sylus sneers, tone acerbic. “And have you stopped to consider my feelings in this matter?” 

“How can you still want this?” you bite back, voice cracking. “How can you want me—to bet on something that’s doomed right from the start?”

His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, pain flickers in his eyes, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, when he speaks again, his words send an icy shiver down your spine.

“You delete the game, and I will cease to exist.”

You freeze. The weight of the statement hangs in the air like a guillotine. 

A shallow, shaky breath escapes you.

“You won’t,” you assert, brows furrowing, as if trying to convince yourself of it too. “You’ll still have a life there. With her. The way things have always been.” There’s a pause before you utter the final blow: “The way it should be.”

“You’d condemn me to this life,” he says, voice hollow, before it turns venomous. “Knowing what I know now?”

With your heart in your throat, you clench your hands into fist. “You–you said we’re just made of what we’re given, didn’t you? That each of us has our own set of scripts, just…” you falter, struggling to articulate what you want to say.

“And you think that’s all I am?” he interjects, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he cuts you off. “Simply a mere code in a complex string of binary, incapable of making my own choices? Undeserving of it?”

“Of course not!” you snap angrily. 

“Yet here you are,” he says, a quiet intensity lacing his words. “Making the decision for me.”

Your breath hitches, the will to argue dissipating like smoke. 

“You tell me I have a soul,” he states. “Do you truly believe I’m bereft of a heart?”

No. No, how can he say that—

Before you can form a response—to defend yourself, to explain, to take it back—he continues, leaving no room for interruption. 

“Is this what you really want?” Sylus intones, tone detached, as if he’s merely commenting on something as trite as the weather. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me yes, then I’ll do as you wish.”

Your gaze wavers. The war inside you rages—self-hate, doubt, and the unbearable ache of wanting what you can’t have spiraling out of control.

Your mind replays every moment, every laugh, every secret whispered in the quiet safety of his company. You think of how his presence filled the cracks in your life, how he soothed the ache of your solitude as easy as breathing.

And now as the void looms, ready to reclaim the space he’s occupied, something inside you feels irreparably fractured. Something inside you breaks. 

“But,” he whispers, his voice rough with the weight of his conviction, “give me any sign—anything—that you need me still, and I will move heaven and earth to find a way to you.”

Your throat constricts, choking off the words before it could escape. 

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you do in that moment.

“Just live your life, Sy-Sy,” you manage, sounding so much like a stranger even to your own ears. The blood roars in your head, drowning out everything but the crushing weight of your words. “You don’t nee—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, his voice shaking with unrestrained emotion. “Stop making assumptions. Stop presuming that I don’t need you as much as I need the very ground I stand upon.”

His eyes bore into yours. Heavy. Searching. “What do you want?”

The words strike you like a physical blow, and it leaves you reeling. 

I love you. 

I love you in ways that consume me. 

I don’t know what to do with it—with all the love I have for you.

You force yourself to speak. You spit the words out like a curse, feeling them burn as they leave your mouth.

“Let me go, Sylus.”

The implication of what you’ve said cuts through the fragile air between you. 

The silence stretches.

Suddenly—

“Let you go,” he muses, low and distant, as if the very thought confounds him. His lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. “As if that’s even possible. As if I could simply erase you from me.”

He steps closer to you; each movement deliberate, as though every step bears the weight of a decision you’ve forced him to make. The lump in your throat swells. You don’t speak. You can’t.

You feel like you’re drowning.

“Sylus…”

Please, please don’t make me choose. Please make it stop.

He exhales slowly. “Neither of us wants that.” 

Stop.

“Do you think this is mercy?” His voice is soft. “You believe this will make it easier?”

Please stop. 

“This world hasn’t felt the same ever since. Not since you,” Sylus murmurs, grief hanging heavy in the space between you. “I don’t belong here. Not without you, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. A sob rips through you, and you quickly look away, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to bear another second of this agony.

He tuts gently, a playful sound—and the familiarity of it kills you, making you cry harder. 

“Look at me,” he coaxes, almost pleading. 

When his gaze locks onto yours, you see that there’s no anger in them. The fire that once raged in his eyes is gone. 

In its place, a quiet resolve.

“You can keep pretending,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his head, and there’s something in the way he looks at you—so tenderly fond, as if he sees beyond your defenses, past all the walls you’ve built. “As long as you do not stop me from trying.” 

Sylus looks at you, unwavering, certain in a way that makes your heart ache. It almost feels like the space between you can’t contain the weight of his devotion. His love for you.

It feels infinite, as if it could stretch beyond the limits of time and space itself.

“I will find a way to you, even if it takes me an eternity.”

He utters it like a promise. 

“I won’t ask you to wait for me,” Sylus murmurs, stepping back, his tall form flickering like a dark phantasm. “I just need you to hold on until I can come to you. Can you do that, little dove?” 

He’s not asking for anything beyond your trust—just the simple act of holding on. Of not letting the weight of your sorrow break you. To trust that he will find a way, no matter how impossible it seems.

You don’t know if you’ve ever believed in anything as much as you believe in him. You always did. 

Because for all the uncertainty, you know one thing: He is yours, as much as you are his. 

So with all the strength you can muster, you nod. “I can.” 

A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips. Your gazes meet, and in that fleeting moment, both of your eyes speak what words fail to convey.

The game crashes for the last time. 

And you know that if you check, the app will be gone from your phone. There’s no going back from this, no undoing what’s lost. Just the burden of knowing it’s over—his exit, permanent. 

Sylus is gone.

The emptiness that follows is immediate. Suffocating. 

You’re left standing there, alone, with only the lingering echo of his presence keeping you buoyed from the crushing weight of isolation. You feel it—the ache in your chest where your heart used to be, brought by the absence of everything he ever was to you. 

Your lover, your best friend.

You try not to let yourself fall apart, not to crumble in the wake of solitude.

You’ll hold onto his promise. And so you’ll keep yours. 

End A/N: Well—that’s it, folks!

(I’m kidding, don’t kill me. There’s one last chapter left.)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy

[glamourscat]

It was 3am and you were supposed to be asleep, but after dating TIM DRAKE for almost two years now, you picked up on his weird sleeping patterns. Tonight in particular your brain won’t rest. Not until you will receive his usual post patrol message.

2am, then 2:30, 3 and 3:30am rolls around and your lack of sleep was slowly turning into anxiety. Why hadn’t he texted yet? Did something happened? You try to make sense of the situation, but your brain is refusing from making you think logically. And just as you were about to message him, his message comes through.

“sorry for the late message. had to run in the shower immediately after i arrived home cause i was covered in blood” he texts 

“not mine btw” he follows up, knowing already to clarify. 

“good, good. im glad you’re ok love, i was beginning to worry. what are you doing now then?” you text back, eyes fluttering at the screen waiting for those three dots to appear. But they don’t. In their place a picture appears. 

Him. In front of the mirror. His face covered by his phone, one arm on the sink leaning a bit to flex his muscles and that towel dangerously low, enough to see his v-line and the outline of his hardness against it. Oh….

“damn, drop the towel? 🙂‍↕️🙏🏻”  “for scientific purposes obviously…” you add in two consecutive texts. 

You know it’s unlikely he would do it, but teasing him comes naturally to y— he did it. You cannot even continue your train of thoughts because suddenly his next picture comes through. The towel gone, his pretty cock— and that damn blushy pink tip— staring right back at ya, hard against his stomach. 

You can’t even begin to form a coherent thought  as another picture comes through. 

This time he is on his bed, on his knees— which are open to show the view between his legs— His hungry, leaking, cock is begging to be touched; while his face now—no longer covered by the phone— looks at his phone through the mirror reflection with a knowingly devilish grin. And your mind goes to one thought, and one only, how desperately you wish to have a dick. Because he looks so damn breedable right now. 

“cause I don’t feel like I did it right the first time ;)” he texts back within seconds from sending that second picture. 

“hey…? you still there lol?” he texts back after 10,  long minutes without a reply from you. Did he overstep? Was it too much…?  But then the outdoor camera alerts him of a movement outside his front door. 

“im outside. open me up.”  ________________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

A/N: I wrote this at 5AM and had the sudden, horny, urge of writing for Tim. Nothing else to add lmao. Also this is not proofread :(

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[heatheriran]

⚡️ “GLITCH & CRASH” METHOD — Instant Void Entering Hack (For the mentally exhausted)

Here is a raw, out-of-the-box, no second chance, 10-minute Void Entry Method — crafted for people who are tired, frustrated, in a noisy environment, with poor self-concept and zero belief. This bypasses everything: no meditation, no subliminals, no affirming, no need for belief or silence. Just do it exactly as written, no thinking.

⚠️ RULE: DO. NOT. THINK.

Act like a robot following code — even if your mind screams “this is stupid,” continue. You will "crash" the logic system — and enter.

🔥 INSTRUCTIONS (10 MIN — JUST ONCE)

Sit or stand. Doesn't matter. Close eyes or open. Doesn't matter.

You're allowed to hear the noise. In fact, use it.

Now repeat this command NON-STOP (out loud or in your mind): “CRASH SYSTEM 444” Repeat it FAST, without emotion, rhythm, or meaning — like a code stuck in a glitch. Say it like this in your mind: crashsystem444crashsystem444crashsystem444crashsystem... ❗Repeat for exactly 3 minutes. No logic. No expectation. Like a machine.

After 3 minutes, do this sudden pattern break: ❗Say internally or aloud: “I do not exist.” Say it 3 times with full stillness.

IMMEDIATELY after that, do nothing. Just STOP.

Don’t breathe intentionally.

Don’t move.

Don’t think.

Just freeze.

Let the body go limp or still, like you're disconnected.⚠️ Your mind will scream — ignore it. Stay like this for up to 7 minutes — or until you feel:

Blankness

A falling feeling

A weird shift

Lightness

No identity

Or just nothingness

💡 What Actually Happens?

You simulate a “system crash” mentally and energetically. Like a game glitching. This overloads the identity and logic layer. Then when you suddenly go still after “I do not exist,” the brain loses the ego reference point this drops you into the void.

🧠 BONUS (If You Fail):

Immediately after the 10 minutes, say:

“This method is now embedded in my subconscious. Next attempt will succeed without effort.”

Then don’t obsess. Walk away.

⚠️ No trying. Just do exactly as instructed mechanically.

You’re not here to hope. You’re here to CRASH.

ChatGPT gave me this method, so please don’t ask questions. I haven’t entered the Void yet, but I thought it might help someone. I will also try this method myself. Nobody is helping me to enter the Void, so I came up with this based on my idea. If you enter the Void using this method, please help others too. Let’s support each other in achieving the Void.

[mournaeve]

❝ almost, always ❞

paring : yeon si-eun (weak hero) × gn!reader

genre : fluff, mild angst/hurt-comfort, emotional miscommunication, slow burn

warnings : mentions of emotional exhaustion/burn out, emotional whiplash but make it quiet and poetic, excessive eye contact with a emotionally constipated boy, 9/10 confession (where's the last 1, no one knows)

synopsis : Two people, both quiet in different ways, six missed chances, one almost-confession—and a love that grows in the silence between what’s said and what’s meant.

joy speaks : hi, and welcome to my first fic <3 genuinely hope you like it. don't be a silent reader!

1. The first time you met Si-eun, you were stealing Baku's snack and threatening to bite Gotak. Not seriously, of course, but with the kind of conviction that only came from a lack of shame and too little sleep.

Your mouth still tasted like instant noodles and regret. Your hair was a chaos theory. Your hoodie?—stolen from Baku, smelled faintly of laundry detergent and sweat, like a boy who lived his life in motion and never washed anything properly and also had a giant yellow pikachu on the front.

You didn't notice him at first.

No, at first you were too busy lying on the classroom floor, narrating your slow descent into madness because Gotak had, in your words, 'emotionally betrayed you' by siding with Baku over what was clearly your bag of chips. Baku, naturally, just sat on your back and told you to accept death with dignity.

Then you saw a pair of shoes. Clean, white, very still. Not fidgety like Gotak's or scuffed like Humin's.

You tilted your head up, squinting from the floor like a raccoon caught under fluorescent light, and there he was.

Expression unreadable. Face sharp in that quiet way—like something drawn in pencil and not yet colored in. Si-eun. Yeon Si-eun. You knew his name only because Gotak had once whispered it like he was talking about a ghost who might hear him.

He didn’t say anything. Just looked down at the mess on the floor, you, mostly, and blinked.

You, still on your stomach, gave a small wave.

"Hey. I swear I'm not usually like this."

He didn’t laugh. Not even a twitch of the mouth. But you swore later, swore, that his eyes lingered for half a second too long. Like he was trying to decide whether to ignore you or classify you as some new species.

Maybe both.

That was the first time. You didn’t know yet that it would become a pattern—him appearing silently, you saying something ridiculous, the two of you orbiting each other like mismatched planets with slightly wrong gravity.

But in that moment, on the floor of a classroom you barely stayed awake in, with Baku sitting on your back and Gotak looking vaguely concerned for everyone’s sanity—

—you thought, 'huh'

He’s kind of cute when he looks confused.

◎⫘◎

2. You didn't expect to see him again. Not so soon, not without the buffer of Baku's laughter or Gotak's nervous commentary or the chaos of you being your usual, spiraling self. But there he was, outside the convenience store, earphones in, staring at the gum rack like it had personally offended him.

You stopped short. He didn't look up.

And for reasons you couldn’t explain even under emotional duress, you didn't keep walking. You hovered.

Like an idiot.

"Didn't peg you for a mint guy," you said finally, voice casual, like you hadn’t just debated crossing the street to avoid standing next to him and his inexplicably intense aura.

He looked up, slow. Blank expression unreadable. Those same pencil drawn beautiful eyes.

Then, flatly, "I'm not."

You blinked. Looked at the gum in his hand. "You've been holding that for like three minutes."

"I was spacing out."

"Oh."

Beat.

You nodded, like that explained the universe, and turned to grab a bottle of water. Behind you, you could feel his silence — not heavy, just… neutral. Like air that hadn’t decided if it was humid or cold.

"I wasn't following you, by the way," you added without being prompted, twisting the bottle cap as you rejoined him at the register. "In case your survival instincts kicked in."

Another pause. He looked at you.

"I didn't think you were."

You laughed — too loud, too fast — and instantly regretted it. "Right. Cool. Great. Just clearing that up, y'know, for the record."

"I don’t think about you that much."

And there it was.

You froze mid-step, plastic bottle crinkling in your hand. A second too slow, your brain tried to patch the damage: he didn't mean it like that. Probably. Hopefully?

"Oh," you said, smile cracking just slightly. "No offense taken. I also don't, like, catalogue your whereabouts or anything. That would be psychotic."

He gave you a look, like he was either very confused or wondering if you were having a stroke.

You both stood there, the cashier watching, deeply done with both your energies.

Si-eun finally paid for his gum. That he definitely didn’t want.

And you stood holding a bottle of water and the first bruise of misunderstanding, shaped like a boy who said things without malice but still managed to dig a little too deep.

Later that night, Baku asked why you were chewing mint gum with a dramatic sigh.

You told him it was an aesthetic choice. You didn't mention Si-eun. Not yet.

◎⫘◎

3. It happened because Gotak's mom called.

Loudly. On speaker. In the middle of the table, right as he was halfway through explaining some physics concept that sounded like witchcraft. He panicked, unplugged his charger wrong, and blew the socket.

And just like that, the lights went out in Baku's room.

Chaos. Swearing. Baku tripping over a dumbbell. You, laughing until your ribs hurt. Gotak apologizing to the socket like it had feelings. Juntae being all flustered while trying to keep the others in check.

Eventually, they both left to 'buy snacks and air out their humiliation.' You were too tired to follow.

And Si-eun didn't leave.

He stayed sitting on the floor, back against Baku’s bed frame, eyes unreadable. You weren’t sure if he didn't move because he was comfortable or because inertia had claimed him.

You sat across from him, the silence sitting with you like a third presence. It wasn't uncomfortable. It just… was.

You cleared your throat. "You always this quiet?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Then: "Do you always talk this much?"

Your jaw dropped. "Are you saying I talk too much?"

"No," he said, and blinked, slowly, "I'm saying I wasn't aware human lungs could handle this level of dialogue per minute."

You gawked at him.

He didn’t look smug. Or mean. Just… factual. As if he were reading weather data.

You threw a pillow at his face.

He caught it with both hands, unimpressed.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes," you muttered, curling into a cross-legged huff.

Silence again.

You should’ve let it drop. But something in you always needed to make sense of things. Of people.

"You don't like me, do you?" you asked.

He looked up at that. Not startled. Just puzzled.

"Why would you say that?"

You mentally snorted 'I wonder why."

"I don't know. The gum comment. The lungs comment. The general 'I'm enduring your presence like a particularly inconvenient fire drill' energy."

His brows furrowed slightly.

"That's not what I meant," he said. "I don’t dislike you."

"But you don't like me."

He looked at you for a moment too long.

"I don’t not like you."

It was the kind of answer that made your brain run into a wall. You opened your mouth. Closed it.

"…Wow," you said. "Poetry."

He frowned faintly, clearly confused why you sounded so sarcastic.

You didn't push it. But when Baku and Gotak returned and flopped dramatically into the room with ice cream and shame, you laughed louder than you meant to.

And you refused to meet Si-eun’s eyes for the rest of the night.

◎⫘◎

4. You were wearing another hoodie.

Not Baku's this time — a different one. Slightly too big. Worn in the elbows. Charcoal gray with a weird bleach stain near the zipper. Not your usual look.

Si-eun noticed it immediately.

He didn't say anything, of course. He just stared.

You were too busy trying to untangle Gotak's wired earphones (how did they still exist?) while sitting on the cafeteria bench, ranting about something inconsequential — probably the school vending machine robbing you again. Baku was making jokes, as usual. Gotak laughed too loudly, as usual. Juntae was swinging his legs adorably like a child waiting for his mother to provide him with candy.

Then a boy walked past. Said your name. Smiled.

You looked up. "Oh—hey. Thanks again for the hoodie."

Si-eun's gaze didn't shift. He didn't ask. He didn't need to.

You caught it in the twitch of his fingers, the flick of his eyes, the way his entire body went very, very still.

Later, in the hallway, he stopped next to you. Not with you — next to. A detail you couldn’t unfeel.

"Is that your boyfriend?" he asked, tone flat.

You blinked. "Who?"

"The guy. With the hoodie. The one you smiled at like he invented oxygen."

You snorted. "No. He just lent me this when I spilled coffee on my shirt this morning."

He nodded. Slowly. You waited for a follow-up. It didn’t come.

Instead, he walked away with his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched, that silent wall rising like it always did when he didn't understand what he was feeling.

You stared after him, eyebrows pulled together.

You weren't his. He wasn't yours.

But still, you wanted to yell down the hallway,

'I would tressure your hoodie, if you ever offered it.'

◎⫘◎

5. It was raining the way it only rains in cities—sideways, rude, unforgiving. You hadn't meant to forget your umbrella. You were just late, and your brain had been full of other things. Like him. Like the hoodie thing. Like the way he hadn't spoken to you in two days. You were treading recklessly on the thin line between friends and strangers who know each other because of their mutual friends. No matter what you tried, attempted at, maybe to bring you both closer and not be strangers or just be his friend- he would always retract. Push you away with words or build walls around his heart that were too big and impossible not to notice.

You were soaked through by the time you reached the courtyard gate. Shoes squeaking, hair clinging to your face, hoodie (not his, not anyone's) weighing you down like a wet dog sweater.

Your heavy wet eyes widened at the sight before you.

Si-eun.

Standing under a small blue umbrella like the sky had personally chosen to leave him untouched.

You stopped. He didn't wave, or smile, or call out. Just lifted the umbrella a little higher.

You stared. Your heart twisted sideways.

"…Are you offering me that?" you asked, cautious.

"I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't."

You blinked. Walked over. Shoulders tense.

He didn't say anything. Just turned slightly, so the umbrella covered half of your body. His half was still mostly dry. You were dripping.

After a minute, you exhaled. "You didn’t have to wait."

"I know."

"…I thought you were mad at me."

"I'm not."

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore."

"I do."

You were quiet.

Then you whispered it. Half a joke, half a plea:

"So this is... pity, huh?"

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you, eyes sharp and unreadable.

You couldn't hold the silence.

You stepped out from under the umbrella. "Forget it. I'm fine."

Rain hit your skin like needles. Cold. Fast. Real.

He didn't follow. You didn't look back. And by the time you got home, soaked to the bone and furious with yourself, it was too late to ask him what he really meant.

◎⫘◎

6. It was late.

Too late to be in the library. Too late for the lights to still hum this way, for the floor to be cold against your knee pits as you sat between shelves with your hoodie bunched up beneath you like a failed pillow.

You weren't crying.

But you were close. That tight-throated silence. That wet weight behind the eyes that made everything feel distant. The kind of sad that didn"t have a name. The kind that didn't explode — just leaked.

He found you anyway.

You didn't ask how.

Si-eun stood there, backpack still on, hair a little rumpled, shirt collar tugged loose like he'd either run or paced in circles before finding you.

He didn’t ask what was wrong. He just sat beside you. Close, but not close enough to touch.

After a long, long moment, he said, low,

"I'm not good at this."

You blinked. "At what?"

"This. Talking. Reading people. Knowing the right thing to say."

You looked at him, sharp, surprised. His voice didn't waver, but it wasn't calm. It was something else — strained. Steady, but brittle at the edges.

He went on, "I don't realize when I'm being too blunt, or too distant. I've… ruined a lot of things that way."

You didn’t speak.

He stared at his hands.

"I used to think it didn’t matter. Not anymore. That being quiet kept things simple. But you—"

He stopped. Swallowed. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Your breath hitched.

"You talk like your words are racing to escape you. You say things I don’t know how to answer. You make me feel like I’m always three steps behind and—and I hate it."

The silence rang.

Then, quieter:

"But I hate it more when you're not around."

You didn't move.

You didn't say anything.

Your brain tripped over itself. Every version of you — the loud one, the jokey one, the brave one — went silent. And in that stretch of hesitation, Si-eun stood.

He didn't look at you.

"I shouldn't have said that," he murmured. "I knew it would come out wrong."

He walked away before you could tell him it didn't.

Later, lying in your bed, face buried in a damp hoodie, you whispered it,

'But it didn’t come out wrong at all.'

◎⫘◎

6. It started with silence.

Not the usual kind — not Si-eun's quiet that felt full of thinking, full of weight. This was emptier. Distant. Clean, like someone had wiped the board.

He'd stopped showing up to group study sessions. Stopped responding to your messages. Left early from lunch. Didn't make eye contact in the hall.

You told yourself he was just busy. That midterms had fried his brain. That he'd drop a deadpan one-liner in your DMs any second now.

He didn't.

When you finally cornered Baku and asked what was going on, he just shrugged — unconvincingly.

And so, armed with indignation and mild sleep deprivation, you found Si-eun after school, outside the campus gates, hoodie up, hands in pockets, looking like a ghost of himself.

"You’re avoiding me," you said.

His eyes flicked up. Then away. "No, I'm not."

"You are." You laughed — humorless. "Jesus, Si-eun, at least lie with conviction."

He was quiet for a beat. He exhaled quietly, "I thought you might want space."

"From you?"

"You looked uncomfortable. Last time. When I said… all that."

You stared. Mouth open. Head buzzing.

"That’s why?" you whispered. “You thought I was uncomfortable?”

He didn’t meet your eyes. "You didn't say anything. So, I figured I'd made things weird."

You exhaled, slow. Almost a laugh. Almost a scream.

"You idiot," you said, soft.

He flinched — just slightly. Gazing up with his eyes, 'god damn his eyes, were they always this beautiful?'

You looked away before your voice could crack. "You didn't make it weird. I did. I didn't know what to say, but that doesn't mean I didn't want to say something."

He didn't answer.

The wind was cold. The sky was turning gray, like it couldn't make up its mind.

You looked at him again.

"You always do that," you said. "Assume how people feel and then act like it's confirmed data."

"It's easier than asking."

"Well, maybe next time, ask."

He looked at you then.

Like he heard you for the first time.

But still, he didn't move. And neither did you.

The moment passed like a train that didn't stop.

You both walked away feeling like you’d missed something important.

Because you had.

◎◎⫘◎◎

1. It didn't happen at some climactic hour, in some big cinematic way.

There was no rainstorm this time, no bruised hallway lighting, no tension humming between the inches of silence.

Just a classroom. Late. Empty. Gold evening light spilling sideways through the windows, dust drifting in slow motion. The kind of warmth that didn't burn — just sat in your bones like an old memory.

You hadn't meant to fall asleep.

You'd only meant to rest your eyes. Just for a second. But the warmth got to you — the sunlight, the still air, the safety of a quiet room without anyone needing anything from you. You drifted.

When you opened your eyes again, Si-eun was there.

Sitting on a chair beside the desk. Back against the wall. Book in his lap. Head tilted slightly toward you.

Not watching. Just being.

Your first instinct was to speak. Crack a joke. Break the softness with your usual deflection.

But for once, you didn't. You just looked at him. Let the quiet stretch.

He closed the book.

"Bad dream?" he asked, voice like a whisper folded in linen.

You blinked the sleep out of your eyes. "Not really. Just... weird."

A pause.

"Felt like I was floating."

He nodded. Like he understood.

You sat up slowly, wincing a little at the crick in your neck.

He reached into his bag and passed you a water bottle without a word.

You took it. Sipped.

He didn't fill the silence. He didn't shrink from it either. Just sat there with you, like he had nowhere else to be, no one else to become in that moment.

And then—"Thank you," you said.

He looked at you, eyebrows lifting just slightly. "For what?"

"For... not leaving."

It came out so softly you weren't sure it even reached him.

But his eyes held yours, steady.

You took in his eyes, his eyes were a study in contradiction — sharp in thought, but soft in shape, always watching like they were learning you in real time. Slightly wide, dark, and quietly luminous, like they held whole libraries of things left unsaid. They didn’t flicker much when he spoke — they lingered, honest in a way his voice never quite managed.

And when he looked at you, really looked, it felt like standing barefoot in the middle of something sacred.

Like silence could be tender. Like you could finally stop explaining yourself. Those eyes didn’t ask for words. They just understood.

Then he added, not quickly, but like it had been waiting:

"I wasn't going to."

Nothing more. No sudden hand grabs, no confessions, no dizzying declarations. Just that.

For the first time, there was nothing to correct. Nothing to fix.

You both stayed there. In the gold-lit quiet. In the stillness that didn't ask for answers. Just presence.

And this time — finally — you both understood.

◎◎⫘◎◎

2. It was dark by the time the rooftop emptied out.

The others had gone. Baku, Gotak, Juntae— loud footsteps, louder laughter, the crunch of snack wrappers left behind. The kind of after-school chaos that made everything feel alive. But now it was quiet. That dusky, hush-hour kind of quiet, where even the wind didn't bother to speak.

You stayed behind to clean up. He stayed behind for... something else.

Neither of you said it.

Si-eun was leaning against the railing, hood pulled halfway up, hair catching in the breeze. You were stacking drink cans into neat, metallic towers and pretending not to feel the weight of his gaze on your back.

"You always do that," he said.

You blinked. "Do what?"

"Stay behind. Fix things no one notices."

You smiled — crooked, tired. "Someone has to."

Silence again. Not heavy. Just full.

"I used to think I was fine alone," he said. Quiet. Almost to himself. "That being alone meant being safe. That silence meant control."

You straightened. Slowly.

He didn’t look at you. Just kept talking, eyes on the horizon where the sky bled orange into navy.

"But it’s not quiet when you're gone. It's louder. It’s—"

He cut himself off. Bit his lip. Exhaled sharp.

You waited.

"I don't know how to say it right," he admitted.

"You don’t have to."

"I want to," he said. "I—"

He turned then. Finally looked at you.

"I think about you. All the time. In the middle of things that don’t matter. Like math problems and weather reports and the noise in the hallway. You just show up. In my head."

Your throat tightened.

He stepped forward — one pace. No more.

"If you asked me what we are," he said, "I don't have the word. But I know what I want it to be."

You didn't breathe.

"-and if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. I'll try to not think of it" His voice cracked slightly, "But I don't want to keep pretending this is nothing."

You looked at him.

"I feel it too."

He smiled.

Actually smiled.

Not the polite curl of the corners of his lips he wore in passing, but the real one, the one that came slow and reluctant, like it wasn't used to being let out. It broke across his face like sunlight through fog, fleeting and precious, the kind of thing you only caught if you were paying attention.

Now that it happened, everything softened: the edges of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, the guarded quiet in his eyes. It was a smile that felt like a secret, like you’d been trusted with something he didn’t give away easily. A quiet admission that, for a moment, he let himself feel joy — and let you see it.

And in that soft rooftop dark, with cans clinking quietly in your hands and the wind threading through your sleeves, you realized something simple:

There was no misunderstanding anymore.

There was just you.

And him.

And everything you hadn’t said — finally, beautifully heard.

◎◎⫘◎◎

@mournaeve 2025, I don't allow translations or reposting of my work however reblogging is fine :)

[halfmoonaria]

unanswered

pairing: tara carpenter and reader

summary: you break the cycle of being the second choice.

wordcount: 3.1k

tara <3 (10:27pm)

i miss you.

can you come over?

sam's not home.

You stared at the messages for a moment, a mix of emotions churning in your chest.

It wasn't the first time Tara had texted you like this—far from it.

Every couple of weeks, when the night stretched out too long and too quiet, she reached out to you. It had become a pattern, one you were all too familiar with.

You knew why she was texting.

It wasn't because she was lonely, at least not in the way you wished she was.

Tara was thinking about Amber.

Amber, who had her wrapped around her finger. You knew how Tara saw her, like she was something special, someone Tara wanted more than anything.

But Amber. Amber only wanted Tara when it suited her, when she needed someone to make her feel powerful, desired.

When Amber wasn't around, Tara turned to you. You were the one who picked up the pieces, who made her feel wanted when Amber didn't care to.

You knew it wasn't about love, not for Tara—not like you wanted it to be. It was about comfort, about filling the void Amber left behind when she was off doing her own thing.

But every time Tara texted, asking you to come over, you went.

You told yourself you'd resist, that this time you wouldn't give in, but the moment you saw her name on your screen, all your resolve crumbled.

Because for those few hours, you got to be the one she wanted, the one she needed, even if it was just physical. Even if it wasn't enough.

You typed out a quick reply, agreeing to come over, even though you knew how it would end. You would be there for her that night, but tomorrow or the next day, Amber would come back, and you would be forgotten, left waiting for the next time Tara needed you.

As you headed to her place, you thought about how it would go.

She would open the door, looking relieved, like she had been waiting for you. You would follow her inside, and before long, she'd be pulling you close, her hands desperate, her lips searching.

And you'd give in, just like you always did, because in those moments, it almost felt like she wanted you, like she needed you.

But in the back of your mind, you knew the truth. You weren't her first choice—Amber was.

You were the one she turned to when Amber wasn't there, when she needed someone, anyone, to fill the space Amber left behind.

And when Amber did want Tara, everything changed.

The texts stopped coming. You sent her messages, trying to check in, to see how she was doing, but they went unanswered.

It was like you didn't exist. Tara disappeared into Amber's world, wrapped up in her like nothing else mattered.

And when you finally did hear from her, it was a curt response, a text saying she wasn't ready for a relationship, that inviting you over had been a mistake. The words stung, even though you had heard them before.

Then the next day, you saw them at school, Tara and Amber, tangled together like they were the only people in the world.

Amber's arm was slung around Tara's shoulders, and Tara was laughing, looking at Amber like she was the only one that mattered.

You watched from a distance, that familiar ache gnawing at your insides, knowing that you were just caught in a loop—a constant cycle that never seemed to end.

You told yourself you'd stop. That the next time Tara reached out, you wouldn't go. But you knew the truth. You'd go, every time, because for those few hours, she was yours, even if it was all a lie.

And maybe, just maybe, you'd let yourself believe that this time, things would be different.

————

It wasn't different.

After leaving Tara's place, you had gone home late at night, slipping out quietly once she had fallen asleep.

The routine was almost ritualistic, carved into your brain. Waiting until the room was silent, then making your way back into the solitude of your own space.

Sleep had been elusive, haunted by the warmth of her presence and the cold reality of your situation.

The night before had been a predictable spiral of emotions. Amber had been ignoring Tara's messages for three long days. Tara had tried repeatedly to reach out, her texts becoming increasingly desperate and tinged with frustration.

Amber's silence had left her feeling raw and abandoned. The usual pattern of their volatile relationship had taken its toll on Tara.

When Tara reached out to you, she had come to you with that familiar blend of vulnerability and need.

It had begun with her confiding in you about Amber's absence, her frustration palpable.

She had spoken of feeling neglected and unwanted, her words mingling with tears as she expressed how Amber's disregard had left her feeling empty.

As the evening wore on, her need for reassurance had grown more intense.

Tara had sought out your touch as if trying to fill the void left by Amber's absence. Her need for physical closeness was almost desperate, driven by the emotional turmoil she was experiencing.

But even as you gave her what she asked for, you knew it was a temporary fix. You were there to soothe the pain and fulfill her need for affection, but you weren't the one she truly wanted.

The next morning, you found yourself at school, moving through the halls with heavy steps, lack of sleep and with that same old sense of anticipation mixed with dread.

You kept checking your phone, hoping for a message from Tara—a simple acknowledgment of what you shared the night before, anything to suggest that she felt something more.

But the screen remained dark, and with each passing hour, the silence grew louder, echoing the realization that you were still just a momentary distraction in her life.

During a break between classes, you walked through the corridor, your mind preoccupied.

That's when you saw them.

Tara and Amber.

They stood by the lockers. Tara was laughing, her face lit with a joy you hadn't seen since the last time Amber had returned.

And then there was Amber, her arm casually slung around Tara, claiming her with the ease of someone who knew they were wanted.

As you walked past, Tara's eyes caught yours for the briefest of moments.

There was something in her expression—an almost imperceptible flicker of guilt or perhaps regret—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

She looked away, her attention snapping back to Amber, who seemed completely unaware of the tension that had passed between you.

It stung. The way she could so easily disconnect from what had happened between you, the way she could just switch off her emotions and return to Amber as if nothing had changed.

You tried to push the feeling aside, to focus on your classes, but it lingered, a bitter reminder that, no matter how much you wanted things to be different, they never would be.

As the day wore on, you sent another text to Tara, hoping for some form of acknowledgment or a sign that things might be different.

When school ended and you headed home, the ache of being a second choice weighed on you.

The cycle was all too familiar: Tara's need for you when Amber wasn't available, and the emptiness that followed when Amber reappeared.

Each time you allowed yourself to hope for something more, you were met with the same cycle of anticipation and disappointment.

In the quiet of your room, you found yourself once again waiting for the next time Tara might reach out, even though you knew how it would end.

The hope that things might change felt increasingly fragile.

As night fell, the familiar loneliness crept in, settling in the pit of your stomach. You couldn't shake the memory of her touch, the way she had clung to you just hours before.

The emptiness of your room felt suffocating, amplifying the silence that had stretched on throughout the day.

You reached for your phone, staring at the screen, battling with yourself.

You knew you shouldn't reach out, knew it would only lead to more heartache. But the need for some kind of connection, any connection, gnawed at you. The words you wanted to say swirled in your mind—questions, reassurances, anything to pull her back toward you, even for just a moment.

Finally, you gave in, typing out something that almost seemed too desperate, even for you.

i don't want to bother you, but i just dont get why u can't answer.

Your thumb hovered over the send button, hesitating for a moment, knowing that sending it might only lead to more disappointment.

But the need for her to acknowledge you, even in the smallest way, was too strong to resist. You hit send, the message slipping into the void, joining the countless others that had been left unaddressed.

You scrolled to the last message you'd sent earlier.

i miss you. can we talk?

It still sat there, unanswered, just like so many others.

Then, the waiting began—each passing minute feeling like an eternity as you stared at your phone, hoping for the familiar buzz that would signal a reply.

The hope that she might respond, that things might be different this time, felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. But still, you clung to it, knowing that even the smallest sign from her would be enough to keep you holding on.

A few hours later, just as you were beginning to lose hope, your phone buzzed in your hand.

Your heart leapt, but the anticipation quickly turned to dread as you read Tara's reply.

tara <3 (11:49pm)

can you stop? i don't want to do this anymore. i don't want anything to do with you.

You stared at Tara's message, trying to process the harshness of her words.

They were unlike anything she had sent before—usually, it was as simple as her saying she wasnt ready for a relationship, or an apologetic excuse.

But tonight, her response was stark and final, a sharp difference to the usual uncertainty.

The weight of her words settled heavily, and the familiar ache of being a backup choice intensified.

You had been through this cycle countless times: waiting for her, hoping for something more, only to be pushed aside when Amber reappeared.

But this time, something felt different—more definitive, more cutting.

The message wasn't just a dismissal; it felt like a cold rejection, an end to the hope you'd been clinging to.

It stung, more than you wanted to admit, especially because it was a departure from her usual way of handling things.

This wasn't about being unsure or wanting space—it was a clear, unambiguous statement that she didn't want you in her life, at least not right now.

You were tired of the endless cycle, the emotional rollercoaster that left you waiting for her next move, only to be met with the same predictable outcome.

The frustration and hurt mingled with a reluctant clarity. It was time to accept that this wasn't going to change, that hoping for more only led to deeper disappointment.

As you set your phone down, the finality of her words clung to you.

It was a painful realization, but perhaps it was a necessary one.

The time had come to stop being her second choice, to stop waiting for a sign that things might be different.

The message was a harsh reminder that you deserved more than the fragments of attention she had been offering.

____

The following days passed quietly.

Tara didn't reach out—not a single message, not even a glance in the hallways at school.

The silence was new, unsettling in its finality, but surprisingly, you found yourself adjusting quicker than you expected.

Maybe it was because you had set your mind to it, determined to break the cycle that had kept you stuck for so long.

You stayed busy, filling the spaces where your thoughts might have wandered back to her.

It wasn't easy, but it felt different this time—like there was a real shift in the way you handled it. Each day that passed without hearing from her was a small victory, proof that you could move forward, even if it still hurt.

But what struck you the most was the time. It had never passed this long without Tara reaching out to you.

In the past, the silence might last a day or two at most, and then you'd see her name on your phone, pulling you back into the familiar rhythm. But now, the days stretched on, and with each one, the possibility of her return seemed to slip further away.

You couldn't help but wonder if Amber had finally come around, realized her own behavior, and decided to commit to Tara in the way she had always craved.

Maybe that's why Tara hadn't reached out—because this time, Amber wasn't pushing her away. Maybe this time, Amber was staying.

You thought this was the end.

Maybe in a way, you even wanted it to be over.

The endless cycle of being Tara's second choice had drained you, and a clean break, painful as it was, seemed like the only way to move forward. If Amber had finally come through for Tara, then maybe you could let go for good.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

It was late on a Saturday night when your phone buzzed again. At first, you didn't even check it—assuming it was just a notification, something unimportant. But then, another buzz, and the vibration against your nightstand was impossible to ignore.

You glanced over, already knowing who it was before you even saw the name.

Tara.

The message sat there, glowing up from the screen in the dark of your room, cutting through the false sense of peace you'd managed to create. For a moment, you didn't want to open it. You didn't want to see what she had to say, because you knew where it would lead. It was never simple with Tara—it was always a pull, always a need that brought you back, even when you knew better.

But your fingers moved anyway, unlocking the phone and opening the message.

tara (2:03am)

are u awake?

Three simple words, but they were enough to unravel everything.

Enough to remind you that maybe you weren't as far gone from her grasp as you had hoped.

You didn't need to ask. You could already guess the situation.

Amber was probably at some party again, the kind where Tara was never invited, where Amber went alone and never bothered to check if Tara wanted to come along.

You could picture it perfectly—Amber's social media lighting up with photos and stories, flashing images of her having the time of her life, surrounded by people, as if Tara didn't exist.

Tara had always hated that. You knew the jealousy had probably started to build, slowly at first, until it reached a point where Tara couldn't take it anymore, and now she was turning to you.

Again.

It was always the same. Amber made her feel small, invisible, and then Tara reached out to you, seeking comfort and reassurance.

And you'd always been there—like a lifeline she could tug on when the weight of Amber's indifference got too heavy. But this time, something in you snapped. You were tired. Tired of being the backup plan, tired of picking up the pieces whenever Amber shattered her.

You didn't want to do it anymore.

Not this time.

The routine had become suffocating, a weight pressing down on your chest, and every time you gave in, it only added to the ache.

You could feel the familiar pull of her message, but instead of giving in, there was a resistance in you, stronger than before.

This wasn't your mess to clean up anymore. You were tired of being the person Tara came to when things didn't go her way with Amber. Tired of being her second choice, the one she used when her first option failed her.

Your heart sank as you stared at her message, knowing what she wanted, what she was asking for without even having to say it. And for the first time, you realized that you didn't have the energy to give her what she wanted. You didn't have it in you to be that person for her anymore.

You didn't answer.

For the first time, you just let the message sit there, ignored. You couldn't bring yourself to respond. Not this time.

Your phone buzzed again, and then again, as Tara's messages came through in rapid succession, each one more desperate than the last.

i'm sorry.

i didn't mean what i said.

please, i'm so sorry.

i do want you. i swear, i do.

The notifications kept lighting up your screen, each one tugging at that old part of you, the part that always responded, always showed up when she needed you.

But you didn't open them. Not tonight. You stared at her words, feeling a familiar ache in your chest, but this time it was mixed with something else—resolve. You knew what this was. You knew it was the same cycle playing out all over again, and you were tired of it.

She kept sending more messages, fragments of apologies, excuses, trying to pull you back in.

please talk to me.

i miss u.

please don't ignore me

i need you.

But you couldn't do it. Not anymore. You let the phone buzz, let her words pile up without an answer, because this time, you weren't going to be the one who gave in.

The ache in your chest tightened, but this time it wasn't enough. You weren't going to be pulled back into the same pattern. Not again.

You felt your thumb hover over the screen, hesitating for only a moment before tapping to block her number. It wasn't easy, but it felt like the only thing left to do.

The silence that followed was deafening, the buzzing of your phone replaced with an emptiness that was almost worse. Almost.

But there was also a strange sense of relief. It wasn't the closure you wanted, but it was the closure you needed. For the first time, you chose yourself. You chose to let go.

And as the night stretched on, you found a quiet peace in the stillness, knowing that this time;

you wouldn't be waiting for her anymore.