#its so frustrating tbh like its been THREE YEARS if he wanted to take a break from tss then fair

[loganhaters]

one thing is we will be back if he (logan) is unbearable in the finale when it comes out in 2025 . and he will be so we will be back then

[beauty-and-passion]

Just wanted to say that I've been a long-time fan of yours, since before PoF, and your analyses were some of the most well-thought out, nuanced and well-researched pieces on the site (my favorites are the playlist analyses they're like my comfort ones lmao). Even tho I've drifted away from the fandom, I still check back in here every now and again to see what's going on. Whilst I love ur series, I do think it's sad you've had to give urself that closure, which is one of my biggest hang-ups with this series. This painful, slow decline where SaSi drags on and on, losing all its momentum & fans and ending with a quiet sizzle rather than a bang as it should, is the worst way to end a series that touched so many people, including me. Tbh, if Thomas is going to use his ever-patient SaSi fans to milk views and money for his other series, he owes it to them to at least finish it properly. He owes his fans a lot of things, and a S2 finale is the main one, you can't milk SaSi for views and not create an episode for 2 years, you can't have your cake and eat it too. Don't want to do it anymore? Cut it, end it, so people can finally move on. The decline of SaSi has been one of the saddest things to witness, but I'm glad you're branching out into other things (tbh kudos for making it this long) and I'll stick around anyway even if ur analyses aren't SaSi because I don't read them for the content, but for the captivating way you write :)

Oh no, compliments! My only weakness!

But seriously, it's beautiful to feel so appreciated and I thank you a lot for that. I am glad you enjoy my analyses so much and it makes me very happy to know they have a good use. If they can help someone feel better, then I will keep writing them until the end of time - no, you can't take back your words now, they will come and be stupidly long because I love to ramble about stuff I like :P

Your words about SaSi are perfectly understandable and I agree with everything you say. It's really a shame that this series is slowly declining and it probably won’t end up like a bang, as it deserved.

Sure, Thomas explained a lot of things and it's now a bit clearer why this happened. However, this doesn't take away from the fact that the organization is pitiful and the lack of communication shouldn't have happened at all, not in a competent team. There are definitely issues and I hope Thomas will work on them as soon as possible, because they can affect his future projects too.

I felt we were going in this direction and I was growing frustrated. So, I did what I do every time there is something I don't like: I try to fix it, even if just for myself. And that's what I did with FSS3. I wanted to see these threads close in a satisfying way, I wanted to see the themes I care about being developed as they deserve. I wanted to give these characters a mature development, because I deeply love them and I deeply love the concept and the possibilities of Sanders Sides.

So, I put my ideas down - with the help of all the people who contributed to the survey. And now, I feel much more satisfied. I know FSS3 isn’t canon, but it’s as close to canon as possible - and, hopefully, will keep being like that for some time too. It’s something I wanted and needed and I’m glad people appreciated it and felt it was good for them too.

And now, I will gladly branch into other stuff. I need to do a bit of a makeover on the blog and expand the “not SaSi” section, first. Then I already have three series I want to talk about and one will be very long, so it might take a lot of time. And then Eurovision will come in May and the Book of Bill will come out in June and maybe I will also talk about the books I love in the future? Or about other series I follow and enjoy? I still don’t know, but be sure I won’t run out of things to talk about. I just wish my ramblings will be worthy of your time and I will keep deserving your appreciation, no matter what I’ll talk about <3

[formulatrash]

Hi! If you feel comfortable speaking about it, could I ask for your take on the red bull/ sky sports issue? And would you agree with audiences seemingly holding sky sport to a higher standard because they are the global feed? Would like to hear it from someone who’s actually a journalist and I trust your ethics, but only if you’re comfortable of course! Thank you!

well, there's a lot here. firstly: Sky are only the global feed because until recently F1 couldn't be arsed to do its own broadcasting, so the British contract got used as the world english language feed because Bernie didn't want to deal with that, so just signed something and made it go away. so Sky being that isn't really any kind of official endorsement or extra responsibility on their part, it's that F1 was like aw shit we need one of those ok fine let's just use yours.

what I think is that Ted's a journalist and he's allowed to say what the hell he likes within that. the clip that seems to have seriously set it all off this weekend (where he said Lewis was "robbed") was him talking about how Lewis has said he felt, so wasn't even editorialising it, he was just talking about how this past year and developing what turned out to be a dog of a Mercedes had played out for Lewis. I, honestly, do not see an issue with reporting what Lewis has said about how he's felt this past year and tbh it'd be much worse to make up shit he hasn't said. so, that is what it is.

Red Bull are smarting very badly from the budget cap thing. both because it has put question on this year's car and because it has dug up 2021 again. I get that this is a sensitive issue for the team and people invalidating achievements that hundreds of people have moved heaven and earth and utterly exhausted themselves to get is incredibly frustrating and disheartening and annoying. social media this season has been exceptionally toxic - think about what was aimed at Hannah Schmidt - so I think that Red Bull have a case for saying that they feel protective of their achievements and

they also have suffered major reputational damage, which can be sponsor damage, via the drawn out budget cap enforcement process. is that part of the appropriate punishment for screwing up where other teams managed not to? yes but also everyone is very tired, at this stage in the F1 season and people are running to breaking point in stress terms.

is it wildly rich for a team that dishes out some of the biggest verbal lashings to get precious about it? I mean, yes but that's Formula 1 for you. Ferrari can get remarkably mouthy for a place that can't go more than half a decade without putting something illegal on their car, y'know. Mercedes certainly have said some shit. even Haas and Williams'll give it out if someone'll listen.

so: I think it is all a bit of a case of everyone being tired, emotional and stressed right now. Ted hasn't done anything wrong and the fans pillorying him are the actual problem in any case; that amount of mental noise is insane. Take last week when for three days there was a different member of F1's presenting team trending every hour over fucking Brad Pitt of all the complete arseholes. and it wasn't Brad Pitt trending! Brad Pitt, this super-famous celebrity we're meant to be sticking our tongues up the butthole of and ignoring serious abuse testimonies about, was not trending, it was the guy who does bits about how qualifying works on Drive to Survive. having been in the eye of that stuff often enough myself (much too often, given Buxton is a Pitt-level celebrity compared to me) it's just like being blasted in a wind tunnel only the only data you receive is the knowledge you are, indeed, a cunt.

anyway, I digress; I think it's an overreaction but contextually an understandable one, given the landscape of abuse and the intensity of the season. and I don't have to hear Christian Horner on the pit wall, so.

[a-german-with-the-gay]

I posted 9,775 times in 2022

9 posts created (0%)

9,766 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@painless-and-colourful

@demilypyro

@elytrians

@iantos-coffee

I tagged 3,215 of my posts in 2022

#video - 386 posts

#inspo - 261 posts

#dsmp - 138 posts

#cats - 120 posts

#tma - 83 posts

#dlsmp - 72 posts

#torchwood - 69 posts

#queer stuff - 65 posts

#gender - 59 posts

#tf2 - 54 posts

Longest Tag: 91 characters

#but i get that it's really difficult to find friends that are also romantically interesting

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

OH YEAH HAPPY 2′s DAY!!!

0 notes - Posted February 22, 2022

#4

The “confused so am I” is a mood

:)

0 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

#3

Why the FUCK did I just get a th*nspo post based on my likes what the fuck what the fuck

0 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

#2

Had a funky dream last night that I would like to share

I was playing a Minecraft-like game (it may have actually been Minecraft with guns idk) in which the player could explore cool floating ruins. however, by doing... something (flying too fast, looking back while flying, killing a certain mob, I don’t remember which of these triggered it), the game froze and I was moved to a flat room, pitch-black except for a giant white circle, kind of like a moon, 8 eyes repeatedly opening and disappearing with a really gross noise, in a katana zero type art style with a faint glitchy overlay. I remember feeling simultaneously terrified and mildly frustrated, like this was a Thing That Happened in the game but that I was scared of. 

Suddenly I was in a discord call with people I knew but do not actually know or remember, and the fight against the thing (no other name) started. the game was now a 2d smash-style game in which we had to somehow take down the boss with makeshift weapons. There were three phases: the first was just fighting the thing as it was, the second was the creature elongating and growing a horrible, long-legged body, the white face-circle being its only weakness. I don’t remember the third phase, and I’m not sure I want to tbh, but I know I died by falling out of the map and being consumed by the thing. thinking about it still kind of gives me vertigo.

The rest of my team won, and then the dream gets a little blurry because I’m pretty sure spring trap spawned in a toilet stall to try and hunt down the rest of the call but failed because he forgot we could communicate via phones... not the weirdest dream I’ve ever had but I feel the need to share it so I can maybe be free of Moonface McSpiderfuck, my eternal tormentor.

1 note - Posted May 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

TORCHWOOD AMONG US??

6 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[padawansuggest]

Since... since some of you actually like my fics (😭), anyone wanna hear about a Star Wars/Stargate Atlantis AU where Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Shmi and 4yo Anakin are in Atlantis instead of Elizabeth (not as Lanteens, but they sorta got lost and ended up on Atlantis and didn’t wanna go to Earth 10,000 years ago) and also it involves clone Jack AND clone Daniel (it’s a concept I played around with, AU where Daniel was cloned too because I’m a slut for Jack/Daniel and I hate angst with a burning passion 🤷🏼‍♀️) and like... stuff??? It’s a good AU it’s just Very Much AU and so therefore, hard to explain.

[morifinwes]

wangxian fic rec list!

aka in which i read fics, write some recs down for aamna and share them!! they're all wangxian fics and uhh @yibobibo i hope you'll like them!!

modern

wolf devours playboy bunny by @greenteafiend (5K, werewolf!lwj, getting together, idk if anyone needs to know that but there's nudity just not uhh explicit)

Lan Zhan has wanted Wei Ying as long as he has known him, and the worst part is that he thinks Wei Ying could want him back.

Too bad he could never in good conscience let himself go there—Wei Ying has a debilitating fear of all things canine, and once a month, Lan Zhan is the exact, precise thing that Wei Ying’s nightmares are made of.

Aka, Lan Zhan is a werewolf.

between the lines by @jywait (19K gaming au!!!, i'm always down for a good gaming au, lwj is the best aksks he's such a good boy)

☆yilingpatriarch☆: pls...give me some face, help me fight these monsters...I'm gonna die

Bluetooth: no.

"You have died." The screen said, and Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in frustration.

resonant frequencies by chinxe (15K, college au, fake dating au, tw mention of cheating but it's brief and no one was cheated on i promise)

In which Wei Wuxian decides that the best way to deal with being in love with Lan Wangji is to pretend to date him for three weeks.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

drift compatible by windoworwhatever (5K, poetry, fluff, drunkji, getting together, college au)

"It was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, university stipends for graduate students working in TA positions barely covered rent, bisexuals cuffed their jeans, Lan Wangji had a massive crush on Wei Wuxian, and spent his time pining and writing research papers about gay subtexts in ancient poetry."

OR

Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian, and everybody knows, except Wei Wuxian.

the bunny next door by detailsinthefabric (43K, this is mostly fluff and very light angst, and they were neighbors!!!, rabbits!!, aka wangxian's bunny children, this is... so cute i just have to rec it)

Lan Wangji did not know what he was doing. He did not know what he was going to say. He was frozen in place, puzzling over the situation. Maybe he had made the man uncomfortable, which is why he wanted to leave? But his tone had still been so friendly—maybe…

“Would…” he paused, swallowed, forced the last words to come out of his suddenly parched mouth, “would you let me pet him?”

-------------------------------------

Lan Wangji, who doesn't know how to socialize and whose icy demeanor scares everyone away, lets down all his defenses when he meets the bunny next door...oh, and also its owner, Wei Wuxian.

leading tone by silencemostofall (32K, everyone is a music student? or something like that akskk, curse fic, tw panic attacks, tw child abuse, small scene of drunkji, wwx has low self esteem, bro this was so painful to read)

The first time you touch someone you're fated to love, you leave a mark on their skin. If they will love you in return, they'll mark you where you touched them. The deeper the color, the deeper the connection.

Wei Ying has no marks at all.

public places, private thoughts by leahelisabeth (for the love of camelot) ( 8K, cherry magic au, getting together with like... immediate upgrade to fiance status, the author is wrong i crave good wangxian cherry magic aus even tho i haven't even watched cherry magic)

Wei Wuxian had heard the story of course. It had made its rounds through his high school and followed him into his college days. He didn’t think there was any possibility it was true. Virginity was a social construct, invented by creepy old men to exercise dominance over women. The idea that a simple lack of sexual activity before the age of thirty could give one magical powers was absolutely ludicrous.

Wei Wuxian believed this until the morning of his thirtieth birthday.

AKA the Wangxian Cherry Magic AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

i'd be all right (if i could see you) by @thirtysixsavefiles (16K, this was nice, i read this at 6am but it was cute, (while writing this post i must admit i don't remember anything but 6am-me said it's good))

The younger Lan brother is something of an enigma on campus; while Lan Xichen can sometimes be seen in the company of other graduate students or conducting a seminar, Lan Wangji appears to spend all his time in class or in the library. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t attend social events. He doesn’t do anything for fun, as far as Wei Wuxian can tell, and it’s driving Wei Wuxian just a little bit up the wall.

Or, Wei Wuxian convinces Lan Wangji to come to a house party, and then they're assigned to the same group project. Wei Wuxian tries his best, but he is not in possession of all the facts.

axe on leg by itszero (4K, i still don't get why wwx did that but it was nice seeing him jealous for once, jealous!wwx, lwj i love you....)

Wei Wuxian pressed his face into his pillow and screamed. He paused to take a few deep breaths, partially hindered by the pillow, and listened to the sounds of Nie Huaisang slurping his iced coffee, from his seat on Wei Wuxian's desk chair.

Having caught his breath, he resumed his screaming and did not stop at the sound of his dorm room door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brother, Jiang Cheng, ask.

The slurping stopped. "He's an idiot."

"He's always been an idiot. Why is he bothered about it now?"

"He forced Lan Wangji to go on a date," Nie Huaisang replied, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"Okay and…?"

"With someone else." The slurping resumed.

Wei Wuxian, in all his glorious dumbassery, convinces his boyfriend to go on a date with someone else.

these two most powerful by @stiltonbasket (4K, amnesia, wangxian with children!!!, aksksk this was adorable, dadji!!)

When Lan Wangji went to bed last night, he was alone in a tiny guest room with nothing but the howling of the wind in the mountains and his own lonely thoughts for company.

 

But when he opened his eyes in the morning, Wei Ying was asleep beside him.

 

(In which Lan Wangji loses twenty years' worth of memories after a night-hunt gone wrong, and his life as a doting father and husband continues without a hitch somehow.)

good things come to those who wait [but i ain't in a patient phase] by @cerlunas (4K, getting together, pining lwj)

Lan Wangji can't take it anymore.

 

“I love you”, he says, and god, it feels terrifying. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t want to hear it.

He grabs his cup and drinks everything. He doesn’t know what face Wei Wuxian is making at him right now, and it’s okay. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats louder, but it’s too late. He is already falling asleep.

Or, even after 13 years, Lan Wangji is still in love with his best friend. Maybe it's time to open up.

wei ying, will you marry m- oh my god he swallowed the ring! by selene210 (2K, marriage proposals, crack, marriage proposals but.. they go wrong)

“A ring?”

And indeed it was. The ring Lan Wangji was going to propose to Wei Ying with. That the man had now choked on.

“You swallowed it.”

“It was in my soufflé! Why did you put a ring in my soufflé Lan Zhan- oh. oh”

of glittery valentine's cards by @soft-fics (3K, valentine's day, this was adorable aksk, a-yuan best boy!!)

Lan Zhan didn't want to know what his best friend had planned for Valentine's Day; his heart would simply not be able to handle it. When his son tells him that he made Wei Ying a Valentine's Day card, though, Lan Zhan decided to bring it over anyway.

of coffee and white tea by @soft-fics (9K, fluff, lwj doesn't like coffee, wwx buys him coffee, then they switch drinks, again and again and again, the staff ships it lmao, tbh jc shouldn't have done that like wtf)

For the fourth time this week a stranger orders him a cup of coffee. Lan Wangji wonders how exactly to tell this man to stop ordering him coffee he doesn't even like. Turns out, buying the other white tea and switching drinks is not the best way to go about it

canon setting

on the importance of restraint (or lack thereof) by nixthothou (4K, in which sizhui snaps, i love that boy, no like seriously he's the best boy)

Lan Sizhui does not usually find himself in the company of Sect Leader Jiang.

Suffice to say, Lan Sizhui's feelings toward him are conflicted.

lan wangji is wei wuxian's baby by lilycs (3K, i was craving fluff while reading this, lwj my beloved, drunk!lwj)

Lan Wangji gets drunk from barely a cup of alcohol, becoming a whiny baby and asking his husband for cuddles.

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (8K, wei wuxian & lan sect, 5+1 things, in which they learn to love him, they're all part of the wwx protection squad lead by lwj, wangxian isn't the focus but !!! THIS)

Times change, but some people remain the same.

The Lans are nothing, if not aware of this.

For one of their own, they will stand against the world.

Or, 5 times the Lans defended Wei Wuxian, and the 1 time he was there to see it happen.

so why not crack your skull when the mind swells by @greenteafiend (13K, love curse, post cql canon, curses, getting together, fluff, so much fluff, lwj tries to talk about his emotions!, lwj pov)

Lan Wangji detects the curse trying to curl through his heart meridians like smoke. A love curse, then. It must have been cast remotely somehow to have found him in his bed in Cloud Recesses. No matter. Lan Wangji crushes it easily, enveloping it in his spiritual energy, and then squeezing. Curse averted, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. He thinks no more of it.

Two days later, Wei Wuxian arrives in Cloud Recesses.

Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

i started from the bottom / now i'm rich by x_los (57K, time travel, fix it, jealous lwj, crack treated serious, god this is so good tho, wwx/wrh & wwx/jgs but like as a joke and it doesn't really happen, but it has its purpose!!)

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

 

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

lead me on through by mrsronweasley (55K, they're in love your honor, arranged marriage but they don't know to whom, basically wwx & lwj want to practice kissing which then goes beyond kissing but not the whole way y'know, lxc the best wingman tho)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

[lord-westley]

Hi hun, I don't know if your requests are open right now, but I could really use some sort of comfort Imagine right now and I was hoping I could come and ask you. It doesn't even have to be a full set of Headcanons, just a short blurb about some Characters will do if that's fine with you.

I've been really struggling with my chronic illnesses lately, and I keep imagining the Fellowship taking care of me, so I thought I'd ask for an Imagine about that. I have a really weird condition where my right leg is physically longer than my left, which causes really intense pain in my hip and leg and also difficulty walking, so I've been really struggling with that lately. There's also the chronic fatigue from my sleep apnea, I'm absolutely covered in bruises that I don't remember getting, the classic anxiety and depression and executive dysfunction.. it's just been a difficult week tbh.

I'd appreciate any kind words right now. Thanks for being so kind and supportive to me, it means more than you could ever know. I hope it's alright that I ask this of you. Godspeed, hun 💕

Comfort HC’s

Platonic!Fellowship x Reader

Post LOTR; Comfort

Warnings: Mentions chronic pain, anxiety, depression, PTSD

A/N: Hello Ro! I’m sorry this took a while, I hope the pain eases soon and that these headcanons help. If you ever need to talk, my DM's are open anytime!

You’ve known the Fellowship ever since you were a little girl. You met them when your parents sent you off to Imladris to seek the aid of Lord Elrond, one of the greatest healers in Middle-Earth. For you had an unusual physical condition, where your right leg grew longer than your left. It made walking difficult and a burning pain to spiderweb from your hip down.

Lord Elrond tried everything he could in his power to help you, and yet there was little he could do except ease the pain. No amount of magic can prevent physical growth.

The tears that welled up in your eyes that day pained him more than any wound can. A child, barely twelve years old, experiencing such excruciating pain right in front of him, and yet he can’t do anything about it. And from that moment on, he promised to you that he’d do anything he can to help you, and care for you.

So with the permission of your worried parents, Lord Elrond gave you an offer to stay in Imladris for as long as you wish. To heal and receive the care you need. Which you kindly accepted.

For years up to adulthood, you lived in Imladris; drinking Athleas tea every morning and night for the pain and sleep apnea. While it wasn’t a cure, it helped make life much more bearable. Allowing you to enjoy certain activities and walk around with only half the pain.

During those years you became great friends with the Fellowship. For they travelled often to Imladris to visit and rest between trips. They became your family, always joking and telling stories of their travels; teaching you new tricks and how to defend yourself. And in return you’d tell them stories of the elves around you. How the Ellon in the smithy loves to tease the Elleth in the bakery. Or how the children would braid flower crowns for you.

The boys know of your difficulties with your leg and illnesses. They’re constantly worried for you; asking how you are, helping when the pain begins to spike and holding you when you begin to cry. Everytime it starts getting bad again, they tell you it's okay to feel weak and to cry. That you don’t have to be strong all the time.

Aragorn

Aragorn is surprisingly soft despite his tough exterior

He believes that crying and venting about your frustrations is the most healthy way to deal

So on days you are having a rough time he’ll sit down with you in his lap, holding you tightly into his chest. One arm around your body and one hand in your hair

Aragorn will let you cry and yell into him, all while pressing small kisses into your hair

He’s not a very wordy person, so it’s not often he will whisper sweet things, but when he does. It’s always so soft and helps relax you

“Deep breaths Hun, It’ll be okay”

Legolas

A soft baby- an absolute angel when it comes to comforting you

Legolas is very big on grounding yourself and staying focused on your surroundings

So when he notices you’re beginning to have a rough time, nearing a panic attack, He preps a cup of Athleas tea and brings you to a private area

He’ll have you sit between his legs, and his arms gently wrapped around you torso

Legolas will have you ground yourself by telling him 3 things you smell, feel, hear and see

“Close your eyes, little one and listen… Listen to the birds sing”

As you begin to relax, he whispers praises, proud of how strong you are

“You’re doing so well, I’m proud of you”

Boromir

I love this man oml

If you’re bedridden due to the pain he’d 100% do whatever you ask of him

Need more pillows? Steals them from every. Single. Bedroom.

“Boro- holy crap how many did you take!?”

“Uh.. all?”

There is now a national shortage of pillows

Need more warmth? Will make a nest of blankets and wrap you up in his cloak

Comfort?? CUDDLES FOR DAYS

Boromir is there for you every step of the way

If you start crying, He might cry with you- absolutely hates seeing you in such pain

“I’m sorry- Im so sorry Darling. I wish there was more I could do for you”

Gimli

In true Gimli fashion, when he notices your anxiety he 100% wants to fight whoever triggered it

He gets a bit aggressive in the beginning, insisting to fist fight your problems away

but when you tell him that it’s something that can't be fought off, that its a constant thing, he calms down and just

“Oh”

“Oh oh wait Im so sorry”

Cue soft Gimli

Will rub your back affectionately while speaking softly

Asking if there is anything he could do to help

Another babe who will do anything you ask of him

If the panic attack happens in public, Gimli will bring you somewhere more private

He’ll shield you with his body from the eyes of the public and glare at anyone who dares stare

Not very good with soft comfort but if you ever need to feel safe and protected go to him

“Dont worry Lassie” (head pats) “I’ll protect you, You’re safe now”

Frodo

Sweet darling baby angel bean

He completely understands your anxieties and pain

Frodo did carry the one ring across middle earth after all

He absolutely has PTSD from it, so there have been many times the two of you would stay up late together when you can’t sleep, drinking tea

You find comfort in the fact that he’s quite similar to you, and vice versa

Most often, you guys will talk about what's going on and comfort each other

On the nights the two of you don’t wish to talk, Frodo will read stories to you

His voice is so soft and comforting, It never fails to lull you to sleep

“None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window” He reads aloud, peaking up at you and notices the way your lips part, a soft snore emitting. He hums, “Goodnight Y/N, sleep well”

Sam

This hobbit is such a softie

He understands that with mental disorders, you may forget to eat or care for yourself

So he always watches you, making sure you’re eating and you aren’t

Oh boy

Will cook your favorite meals and make you sit with him to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner

“Ah, I hope you enjoy the meal. I made your favorite!”

“Thank you, Sam..”

Ensuring you drink your water

Or if you don’t like plain water, make some tea. Anything really to make sure you get your fluids

As a gardener, Sam is busy quite often, tending to, well, gardens

He’ll set up a picnic nearby for you with finger sandwiches, drinks, and fruit that way you had company and can relax fully in the peacefulness of nature

Definitely will give you a bouquet of flowers at the end of the day

“I picked these for you Y/N!”

Merry and Pippin

Okay so these two are together cause well. They’re always together

Except that one scene

Absolute kings of distraction when you’re feeling depressed

You might want to just sleep it off- but we all know that never really helps

They’ll make so many jokes and sing and dance around just to make you laugh

Which often leads to them singing even louder and cruder, annoying every elf in the area

“Lucky Annie was a lady who’d been pleased by many men- They all would sail away but then they’d come right back again”

Yes they sing sea shanties

Oops

On days that you don’t have the energy to deal with such shenanigans, they’ll tone it down

The three of you will often be found in the field during these days, Tossing a ball back n forth

Or giggling amongst yourself, gossiping about the rest of the fellowship

“I don’t know Merry, Gandalf is kinda hot in an old man way”

“Pippin what the hell”

[ohmy7hearts]

spring gale

Summary: Spring means new beginnings but a gale (a storm more like?) in the name of Shinazugawa Sanemi blows your plans out and throw your once peaceful life into the winds.

Pairings: Shinazugawa Sanemi x Fem!Reader // future Shinazugawa Genya x SisterFigure!Reader 

A/N: this,,, is v impromptu. i literally got out of my bed bc it has been bugging me with how little sanemi fanfics there are, esp modern aus. tbh, there have been plenty of fics brewing in my mind and tell me if there’s any you’d be interested in and maybe i will return from my hiatus hah:

 - zhongli modern au: adepti babies being your adopted children and navigating parenthood 

- unknown pairing as of now but travelers being your kids so transporting yourself into the world to find them after 500+ years of not returning home 

- etc involving atsumu, diluc, childe but if you have any requests, feel free to drop it in and maybe i’ll consider them

Warnings: Some cursing (I mean it’s Sanemi lolol)

“Shinazugawa-san?” Sanemi glanced up, his hands continued packing away his things into the bag, an eyebrow raised. You smiled, hands folded over the other in front of you, as you continued to speak after gaining his attention. “When would you be free to do the project?”

He sighed, throwing his bag over his shoulder, while making his way out of the classroom - tone and body language showing his disinterest in the conversation. “We can just do it in class.”

You jogged to get into step next to him, “Well, it is for the bare minimum. I’m sure we can do much better than that.” You observed his side profile to see if any emotion could give way to what he was thinking. You frowned, frustration creeping up on you, “I understand that we’re not each other’s first choice in partners but that’s not an excuse to not do our best.”

“Are grades and studying the only thing in that airhead of yours?” His eyes flit towards yours for a moment before returning its gaze forward. “I don’t fucking have as much free time as you.”

You stopped following him. A bolt of anger and disbelief had your mouth dropping and hands curling into shaking fists. You scoffed, voice raising with each word, “I believe you need this more than me, Shinazugawa-san. Unless you want to continue being a pain in everyone’s ass and eventually not even graduate, then be my guest.” 

He swiveled towards you. You flinched reactively. He faltered, face momentarily flitting from anger to surprise back to annoyance the moment his eyes scanned you. One step, two steps. He was in your space, breathing in and out to you, with his  strikingly cold eyes and thin eyebrows furrowed. “Say that again, I dare you.”

You closed your eyes before releasing a deep sigh, muscles easing from the hold of your anger. “We don’t have to do it after school or on the weekends if you are that occupied. We can do it before school or during our breaks and even before our clubs start.” You grabbed one of his wrist, turning his palm upwards, shoving the crumpled paper with your number into it while fixating your glare on him throughout. You refuse to back down but you will be the bigger person. Forcing his hand to a close, you narrowed your eyes for good measure while trying to control the smirk from overtaking your face when his frown further deepened in distaste. Taking a step back, your hands returned to the usual folded stance, you forced an amicable smile to replace the smirk - although you have a feeling that he could still see the smirk from how his eye twitched, “Of course, it’s really up to you, Shinazugawa-san.”

Turning on your heel, you headed back to the classroom with your head held high and a full-blown smirk on your face while your peers watched with stolen glances and whispers behind hands or under breaths. The clicking of his tongue echoed in the corridor and in your head all the way back to the classroom. 

“Ara, ara, should you really do that (Y/N)-chan?” Shinobu greeted you by your desk, eyes filled with mirth from the free entertainment.

You laughed airily, eyes not meeting hers but focused on clearing the messy table, “I wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t that difficult.” 

“Not many survive Sanemi you know?” Shinobu followed you to the student council room. “One must use their life's worth of luck to crawl out from his bad side.” 

A bark of a laugh escaped you from her exaggeration. “Shinobu-chan ~ I thought you wanted to get into medicine and not theatrics?”

Her eyes met yours, a smirk tugging on her lips, eyes shifting precariously into ones when she knew something the other party doesn’t and in this case that was you. A shiver ran down your spine. You’ve been in the spot only a few times but still a few too many with most of them ending up jerking your view of the world down a path you’ve never considered. You gulped, hands itching and playing with themselves. 

“Did you not hear about how he got into a fight with some university boys down at the park?” She leaped into your space, voice dropping into a whisper in your ear yet head tilted to ensure a front seat view to your reaction. “He came out with a couple of scratches and bruises but…” Her small hands encircled your upper arm. Your eyes dropping to them before returning to her face - surprised to witness your shock colouring your face white as it was reflected in those big eyes of hers. “The boys said to be much bigger than he is, had to go to the hospital.” Her smile bordering on unhinged glee, she drawled, “They were so scared they didn’t sue him.”

She immediately returned to her spot beside you, a foot away, while her shoulders and arms lifted in a form of a shrug nonchalantly. “Apparently, when questioned, the boys said something about them being the ones out of line and they have worked things out.” 

Being close friends with Shinobu and Mitsuri meant that you were privy to the latest gossip and news but you always took it with a grain of salt seeing firsthand how some things were purposefully voided or added for the enjoyment of teenagers. You smiled unsurely, “that’s just a rumour Shinobu-chan.”

She pouted, invisible to those who didn't know her well enough or who weren’t keen enough, “You can ask Akio. He was a witness.”

Your eyes widened before blinking in incredulity. “What.”

She giggled, hand raising in a wave before dashing down the corridor. “Do share with me if he tells you more!” 

It took you a few seconds to regain your bearings, even a shake of your head to rid the mental image of Sanemi punching away on people bigger than him for his amusement. He was by no means a small person shown clearly with the muscles seen even through the school uniform - a testament to his achievements as one of the greatest fighters in the taekwondo club despite his lacklustre participation of actually attending said club practices - but there were certainly bigger and taller people in your school, much less university. 

“Hashimoto-san!” You snapped out of your musings.

“Tanaka-san.” You greeted back. The black haired guy chuckled, “I told you to call me by my first name. After all, we’ve been working together for 3 years. Unless, you don’t see me as a friend? Damn, it must hurt to only be seen as a student council partner even after winning the presidential election together.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You huffed, plopping down into the chair and hands gravitating towards the papers on the table before being stopped by a hand on your wrist. Raising an eyebrow, he returned the gesture indicating there’s something he was expecting you to tell him. He released the grasp on your hand the moment you were falling back onto the back support of the chair with a sigh. “How may I help you Akio?”

“On the way here, I heard an interesting piece of news.” He sat sideways on the table, the leg on the table folded over the leg still standing. You folded your arms over your chest and hummed. “You and Shinazugawa were fighting?”

“It was just a talk that got a bit heated. I was trying to get a hold on him so we can do our project for literature together.” 

Akio’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under his bangs. “Wow, what luck. First, he somehow got into your class through that stupid maths shit and now you have to deal with him.” He smiled in assurance, eyes crinkling close and  a hand over his heart. “Be careful but if anything happens, I’m here. I’ll come running to save my beloved president.”

You mouthed a wow. Silence blanketed the both of you as you nod in understanding - lips trying to contain the smiles and laughs - as he continued to express his devotion through his hand gestures - hand flying to point at you before returning to over his chest, patting it, then forming into a prayer of sorts - all the while mouthing his loyalty to you. 

With a shake of your head and hands indicating him to leave as you pulled yourself closer to your table, “Thanks but I doubt I need it.”

Instead, he tilted his head backwards and narrowed his eyes on the ceiling. “If you see what I saw, I wouldn’t put too much faith in him.”

Blood freezes over while questions overwhelm your mind. You gulped and licked your lips to get rid of the sudden dryness, “And what exactly are they?”

“He didn’t stop beating them up or screaming at them even when they were down. Three policemen had to pry him off and restrain him.”

Your heart dropped.

[sparklingpax]

A Different Side (2/2)

Summary: Optimus comes back from an unsuccessful mission and seems to be out of sorts…but there’s more to that story.

///

A/N:

-Part 1 arguably where I should have ended it :’)

-Literally been a year and I apologize so hard sdjdj ;w; also this part is too long asfsksdjfl aaa 

-BEFORE YOU ATTACK ME, this is not “the first time optimus ever makes a joke!!!” kind of story, despite how much it looks like that. It’s just. something,,,

-as usual, there are definitely typos and mistakes; hopefully I get around to fixing them aha ^^’’ Also please don’t mind the weird spacing, for some reason the way I type things out never seems to translate well to when I put it here so,,,

-please I’m literally not funny, my humor is broken 😀 Like, I didn’t quite know how to continue or conclude this, and it’s not creative or interesting at all and it highkey doesn’t make sense tbh?? so aaa qwq I just hope it’s not too cringe,,,,but I did say I’d finish it so rather than keep y’all waiting any longer than I already have, here it is....part 2....

-I just. wanna apologize again that it took so long and this scrappy second bit is all I have to show for it. hh. 

///

             “At last…” Ratchet sighed contentedly to himself.

             He carefully placed two pieces of metal together and wielded them to one smooth shape.

             Stepping back to admire his work, smiling a little, he then picked it up and started towards the supply room. 

             After a long day of work, Ratchet was pleased to finally be able to place the repaired tool back on its shelf and retreat to his room for a few hours of quiet reading.

             Maybe three at the very most, he wagered his bet with a slight grimace. 

             After all, it was commonplace for commotion to interrupt his every attempt to enjoy himself quietly.

             Such is my fate. 

             However, hearing a familiar set of footsteps thumping slowly down the halls, Ratchet paused.

             “Optimus? Is that you?”

             He leaned to the side and peered down the hall.

             Said mech emerged from the corridor and into the medic’s view. He had a funny look in his eye as he came to a stop quite abruptly. 

             He placed his hands on his hips and regarded Ratchet for a strange few moments of….awkward silence…before speaking.

             “Ratchet,” his voice tremored almost imperceptibly, “Would you consider me…humorous?”

             The medic blinked at him. He was officially more confused.

             He had been just about to ask what had happened to upset him so much earlier, or if there was anything he wanted to talk about, one-on-one.

             After all, from time to time, Optimus would reach a point where he could no longer bear whatever was troubling him. And of course, Ratchet was right there for him, ready to listen and help. In the end, he was able to get Optimus to say what was troubling him, and they would talk about it or they wouldn’t. But something about the way Optimus walked away each time told Ratchet he’d done at least something to help.

             “…Ratchet?” Optimus prompted him gently, eyes showing a little concern.

             Scrap, I still haven’t answered his question—Ratchet, focus!

             Still, the thought drifted through the recesses of his mind: had Optimus…not been upset in the first place? 

             If so...what had it been all about? 

             Or was he simply reading too much into it?

             At a loss as to how to answer, the medic fumbled for a word to say in response. 

             He actually didn’t know, now that he thought about it. 

             Optimus—or Orion, even—had never really attempted to be funny before as far as Ratchet knew...which Ratchet was well aware that he didn’t know everything. It couldn’t be a yes or no. Of course, there were moments Orion was humorous, everyone has their moments.

              No, he means funny—as in, on a regular basis, as something part of his personality, even. And to that....

             A more appropriate response was ‘why?’ 

            But Ratchet knew better than to snark at Optimus like that. It was uncalled for, at the moment.  

             Perhaps Megatron would be more likely to know.

             After all, it had been him Orion had spent the most time with back in those days.

             As if I could just call him and ask! 

             “W-well, Optimus, I wouldn’t really know that!” Ratchet paused, feeling slightly guilty for his tone of voice just then. “You’ve never tried to be…that I knew of, anyway…”

             Optimus just nodded slowly. That weird glint in his optics remained. It hit him that something seemed….different. Like the Prime was planning on...doing something. 

             Just then, footsteps alerted the two of Jack’s arrival. He came into view, leaning against the wall and panting. He pointed wordlessly at Optimus for a second, trying to catch his breath. Ratchet stared at him, somehow growing more confused as the seconds passed. Then, finally, Jack straightened, managing to say what he’d wanted to.

             “Optimus was…not upset…”

             “What?!” Ratchet practically squawked. “What?!”

             Optimus glanced from Jack to Ratchet, looking surprised for all of a moment, then simply nodded. Just then, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead returned to base. Their engines could be heard from all the way down the corridor. They skidded to a halt in front of Optimus and Ratchet, transforming a backing up a bit.

             “Oh no,” Bulkhead murmured to his teammates. “Cue pissed-off Ratchet.”

             And pissed Ratchet was. 

             He had been worried for his friend.

             “Wh—then—why on earth did you go off to your room in such a huff?!” The medic exclaimed, setting down the newly-repaired tool not-so-gently.

             “That is—”

             “AND WHY WOULDN’T YOU OPEN THE DOOR?!”

             “I—”

             Just as Optimus was about to answer, a proximity alarm went off. Everyone gathered wordlessly around the main computer screen as Ratchet pulled up the video feed. He rolled his optics, sighing heavily.

             Instantly everyone knew it could only be Agent Fowler.

             Jack took this opportunity to attempt to get Optimus’s attention and pull him aside for a second. He waved and whispered the Prime’s name.

             When Optimus finally heard him, he departed from the group and made his way over to Jack, kneeling down when the human motioned for it.

             “Hey, Optimus,” Jack started, a bit awkwardly. “Sorry—uh……so....I saw what you were watching…”

             “Oh…” Optimus instantly looked kind of embarrassed. “Well, I was….admittedly….curious.”

             Jack tilted his head.

             In the background, their liaison to the government was shouting something about Bumblebee and a burger joint parking lot, to which Ratchet was defending his teammate and annoyedly asking how it could be his fault or problem.

             “After yesterday,” Optimus began to elaborate quietly, “Miko said...something to Ratchet. It dawned on me that Earth humor is much different from Cybertronian humor—which, in honesty, I never knew much about anyway.”

             “You mean when she yelled ‘in this world, it’s yeet or be yeeted’ to Ratchet after he asked why Bulkhead decided to throw that guy he was fighting?”

             “Yes.”

             “So…” Jack sighed. He looked so confused. “You looked up vines?”

             “No, Jack,” Optimus responded rather seriously. “I used the Google Engine program you children seem to enjoy so much—”

             Enjoy…not when you have friends like mine, Optimus. I’ve seen some things...

             “—to find the meaning of ‘yeet.’ Through my research, I came across the concept you humans refer to as…” his optics flicked to the ceiling for a second as he held up a hand and air-spelled the word, trying to remember the pronunciation. “…Memes.”

             “You…you found memes?” Jack repeated, as if he couldn’t process this. 

             “Yes, Jack,” Optimus affirmed, looking very pleased with himself. He had that same sparkle as when he watched his teammates laugh, when he was tired but relieved everyone returned from a mission alive.

             Except. It was for memes he found. On the internet.

             Jack was about to ask another question when Optimus abruptly stood up again. He put a finger against his lip in a shushing motion, smirking ever so slightly. A twinkle in his eye told Jack all he needed to know.

             “O-Optimus, which videos did you exactly—”

             “Vine is no longer dead!!” Optimus whispered a little too excitedly.

             And then he winked.

             “This is a dream,” Jack murmured in disbelief as he heard Optimus walk away.

             He was apparently going to try to make vine jokes.

             Jack knew it would be hilarious, but he was also worried for the Prime’s dignity. 

             Oh, Lord.

///

            “Oh, YOU want to hang up on ME?!”

            “THAT’S DAMN RIGHT,” Ratchet hollered back, “YOU CAN TAKE YOUR COMPLAINTS AND SHOVE THEM UP YOUR—”

             ‘Ratchet!!!’ Bumblebee cut in, looking rather uneasy. He hated it when people were shouting at each other like that.

             The medic whipped around and Bumblebee flinched a bit. The older mech was fuming.

             He had been in a generally awful mood after the events of the day, and as the seconds of silence passed, he realized just how angry he was—or at least, how he seemed to everyone else.

             Can’t vent frustrations like this, Ratchet—you have to talk it out. He stared back up at the computer screen and watched Agent Fowler straighten his tie as he started up again.

             “Now you listen to me, Ratchet. Neither I—nor my superiors—will tolerate your—”

             Ratchet decided he’d had enough of dealing with others’ foul moods, because they were only making him even more upset.  

             “Agent Fowler, I’m frankly not the bot you want to talk to right now. These are not my doings, you in fact have no qualms with me. All you do is call us up and gripe at us, and no one here appreciates it,” he hissed at him, having toned his voice down to a mild stern one.

             “HEY!! DON’T YOU DARE—”

             “Goodbye.”

             And with a simple tap, the base fell silent again.

             “Well….that’s that,” Arcee said.

             “Yup,” Bulkhead agreed.

             ‘Why is Fowler so aggressive all the time?’ Bumblebee buzzed, annoyed. Arcee shifted her weight and shrugged.

             “He wants what’s best for humans, and he’s concerned for the planet. I mean, yeah--he has the right to tell us to be careful and all,” she made her guess. Then her optic twitched as she, too began to look rather irked. “But he’s so….”

             “Insufferably rude,” Ratchet finished for her. Arcee nodded.

             ‘And…loud.’

             After a moment of attempting to compose himself, Ratchet turned to Optimus, who had discreetly drawn up beside them.

             The medic was about to ask him what the scrap he’d been doing and why he left Ratchet to fight with Agent Fowler on his own. It was usually Optimus who took the calls, and that’s why there wasn’t always an argument like this. Fowler would yell at Optimus, but not for long.

             They had some kind of interesting mutual respect for one another. Of course, all the bots respected Fowler—even when he was being overly aggressive—but Optimus seemed to even get along with the government agent in a special way.

            Even more of a reason he should have been the one to talk to him.

            So, Ratchet was annoyed. Or he was.

             It was then he noticed the grin on his leader’s face. His first question was understandably, why.

             Before Ratchet could speak, Optimus put up one digit and tapped it against his lips, as if to signal for quiet.

             “I apologize,” he said solemnly, leaning a bit closer to Ratchet. The medic felt his spark begin to pound, and was sure that some color was heading to his face. He swallowed.

             “That’s alright….but, uhm…what were you doing instead?”

             “I was discussing with Jack a rather important finding…” he responded quietly. Ratchet tilted his head at Optimus.

             Arcee and Bulkhead exchanged confused looks. Bumblebee debated leaving the room or asking what exactly he was talking about.

             It was at that moment, Optimus bit his lip, visibly trying to hard not to laugh. He then took a shaky breath and stood straight.

             “Ratchet, I have but one question.”

              Tentatively, Ratchet moved the conversation forward. 

             “…yes?”

             Optimus pointed to his tools lying on the metal surface behind the two, and with the most level tone, spoke.

             “...What are thoooooose?”

             There was silence before Ratchet slowly and rather confusedly glanced back at the desk. He answered Optimus just as slowly. 

             “They’re.....my…reparation tools….”

             And with that, Jack lost it laughing so hard from the corner. Optimus looked on the verge of bursting into laughter himself.

             But Ratchet wasn’t laughing. He just stood, blank. 

             Very quickly, Optimus realized no one else was laughing either—except for Jack, of course—because they also looked like they were trying to process this.

             He felt a pang of worry.

             Even if gradually, Optimus had been hoping for a long while that he could show his teammates that Primes do laugh, lose their cool, cry, and party. It was a silly notion, he would often chide himself. Nonetheless…it was a hope.

             After all, it was the only reason he had gone to the Google Engine and decided to try and figure out what exactly humor entailed.

             But…I might have approached this incorrectly.

             Now looking just a little annoyed, Ratchet backed up and picked up his tools. He had no idea what had just happened and wanted some time alone in his quarters. 

           Optimus gently grabbed his shoulder, causing him to stop and look at him again. The Autobot leader looked rather abashed, obviously regretting the last five minutes of his existence. 

            In the background, Jack had gone over to the other Autobots and started explaining what had happened, the vines, the context of what Optimus had just pulled…

            “I…apologize, Ratchet…” Optimus looked away for a moment. “It seems I…lack the ability of timing…”

             Ratchet blinked a few times, then setting down the tools, he sighed.

             “Optimus…”

             “I know now that it is not my place to attempt humor.” He looked quite sad, but at the same time, resigned to it. Ratchet was about to tell Optimus that not everyone was cut out for everything, and that he was rather amusing in his own way.

             But he was interrupted for a second time by laughter. Ratchet and Optimus instead turned to see behind them, the other three team members absolutely losing it.

             Optimus was taken aback.

             He wondered briefly if they were laughing at how pitiful his attempt at humor had been. Then Bumblebee spoke up.

             ‘Jack just told us what that actually meant!’

             “Yeah!”  Bulkhead chimed in. “And now I wanna know what vines are!”

             Arcee, giggling, added, “Yeah, and what crocs are.”

             Ratchet felt Optimus next to him, struggling to contain his pride, and himself began to laugh. At this, Optimus let a little of that joy show, smiling and standing straight again. 

            What a funny thing to be proud of…

            But, then again, that had been the Prime’s intent.

///

*dies* I’m sorry I even wrote this please forgive me--

[btxtreads]

do you want to build a snowman? | yeonjun

➳ He lost you on a winter’s day. He wanted you back on a winter’s day.

↳ Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

↳ word count: 2.6k

↳ genre: fluff, angst, exes to lovers

↳prompt: You invite me over to babysit your baby brother/sister because I was the only one who managed to calm her down

↳event: This fic is written for Arcadia Winter Fair 2020 @txtarcadianet​ 

↳a/n: honestly have no clue what this is but it’s 3am, I just ordered a venti and I’m having an intense Yeonjun phase again. The title really has no correlation to the story tbh it’s just honestly a big mess,,,, dO YOU WANNA BUILD A SNOWMAAAAAAAN

Yeonjun was having a normal day, his body lying haphazardly on the sofa and his eyes mindlessly watching some random movie he found on the Netflix. He didn’t want to admit it, but his mind was far from the hallmark film playing on the screen. Instead, he thought about the heavy sheet of white that was slowly starting to cover the entirety of the city. Then, he thought about her.

He thought about the first day he met her. It was also a winter’s day. He remembered her clutching a cup of coffee, sitting inside a crowded cafe and watching people pass by. He came over, asking to sit with her as he waited for his own coffee—the shop was full. She said yes. He asked her name, she said she was Y/N. He asked to meet her again at the same time and place the very next day. She said yes.

He remembered the first time he kissed her, around a year afterwards. It was a random thing—asking her to go with him to walk around the snowy park. He didn’t really plan on kissing her—he didn’t plan on anything, but the way she looked so beautiful as the two of them ran around the snowy park—making snowmen and throwing snowballs at one another. He often found her looking up at the sky, catching the snowflakes in her hands as her eyes sparkled. He was so drawn to her—he couldn’t help himself. He asked if he can kiss her—and she said yes. Him leaning down, lips locking on hers as she giggled against his, was the fondest memory he held.

Then, he remembered that one day one month ago. She asked him why he won’t tell her anything anymore, then he told her he didn’t feel the same anymore. He held her hand under the setting sun, whispering apologies to her hair as she pounded on his chest. He felt his heart pang as tears flowed out of her eyes, then he felt it break the moment she stepped into a cab and left him alone in the middle of the park where they first kissed.

Days after that, he realized the truth—he lied to himself. He still loved her, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back—not when he broke her first. He couldn’t find it in himself to call her, or go to her and ask for her back. Not when he promised himself he would never be the guy to make her cry, but he was the one that broke her heart in broad daylight. Maybe that’s why it was a surprise when his phone rang, her face flashing on the screen.

“Y/N?” Yeonjun asked confused as he brought the phone to his ears. “Why are you calling?”

Instead of an answer, all he got back was a loud sob. Yeonjun found himself springing up, bolting over to his shoe rack and grabbing the first pair of sneakers he could find.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Y-Yeonjun,” Y/N sobbed. “Jisu has been crying for an hour now, and I’ve been trying everything.”

“Okay, breathe.” Yeonjun soothed, his voice soft and gentle as he grabbed his car keys. “Just try your best to calm her down. I’m on my way.”

Jisu, Y/N’s little sister, was the light of her life. The child was born just over a year ago—a few months after they started dating—with her parents often giving the little girl to her for emergency babysitting when duty calls or when work has been overbearing, which was good—except Y/N has never been good with children.

Yeonjun, however, was. It helped that Yeonjun was over almost everyday, he loved Jisu and Jisu loved him a lot. What usually happened was that Yeonjun often entertained the girl—played with her, soothed her, held her as Y/N busied herself with making the girl’s food, cleaning her up and everything else. It was a dynamic they easily fell into.

Perhaps that’s why Y/N is so distraught now. The thought of her teary eyes and shking voice when she called him reminded Yeonjun of the day she left, and he didn’t like that. So, when Yeonjun arrived at her apartment complex, he didn’t hesitate to sprint over to the stairs—ignoring the elevator completely as he climbed over three steps at a time to get to her faster.

“Y/N, it’s Jun!” He said, knocking on the door fast.

The door sprang open and he was met with the sight of her for the first time in one whole month. Her eyes were red from all the crying. Her hair was messy from all the times she ran her hands through it in frustration, her figure swallowed by a loose hoodie that Yeonjun knew he left in the small section of her closet reserved just for him. He cracked a small smile at her choice of clothing before reaching out to grab her hand gently.

“Hey, calm down. I’m here.” Yeonjun whispered as fresh tears sprung up in Y/N’s eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She didn’t know if it was just because it was the first time she saw him again after he broke her heart, or the fact that her sister has been crying for an hour straight with no way of being consoled, or the fact that this is the first time she’s ever been asked if she was alright after losing Yeonjun—but she couldn’t help herself as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face into his chest as she cried.

“I-I don’t know why she won’t stop. I tried everything and she just shoving her plushie in my face.” Y/N cried. “Please help me.”

Yeonjun’s hand brushed through her hair, a sigh of satisfaction as he wrapped his free arm around her waist. He placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head as he shushed her gently.

“It’s alright, where is she?”

“My room.”

Yeonjun pulled away, intertwining their hands as he locked the door behind them and gently led the girl over to her bedroom. The boy’s eyes fell on the young girl sobbing on the bed—hands clutching the Olaf plushie he gave her when she turned one a few months ago.

“Junie!” The small girl cheered, immediately stopping her sobs as she clambered off the bed and onto him. “Up!”

Yeonjun furrowed his eyebrows as the girl raised her hands, gathering her tiny form in his hands and raised her up.

“Hi, Jisu.” Yeonjun cooed, tucking a lock of the little child’s hair behind her ear. “Why were you crying?”

“Junie where?” the girl responded, pointing outside the window. “Junie, promise!”

Yeonjun turned over to Y/N in confusion, who leaned by the doorframe with a shocked expression.

“You… were waiting for Yeonjun?” Y/N asked as she walked closer, dumbfounded at the little girl’s sharp nod. “Jisu, we can’t call him anymore, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Yeonjun asked, frowning as the girl blinked over at him. “Yes, you can.”

“We’re not dating anymore, Yeonjun.” Y/N responded softly, eyes downcast as Jisu climbed out of Yeonjun’s arms. “She has to get used to you not being here.”

“About that, I wanted to talk to you, Y/N—“

“Anyway, what did she mean by promise?” Y/N asked, turning her back to him and changing the subject. “Maybe if you give it to her, she’ll stop looking for you.”

“Snow.”

“Hm?” Y/N asked, turning over to him. “What about it?”

“Junie! Olaf! Promise!” Jisu replied, coming back and offering a carrot to the two adults. “Olaf! Junie!”

Yeonjun crouched down, taking the carrot out of her hands.

“You remember?”

“Remember what?”

“I promised her a few months ago that I would bring her to the park the next time she comes over and its snowing—she wanted to make a snowman.” Yeonjun sighed, picking the girl up. “We were watching Frozen, remember?”

Y/N’s eyes fell onto the Olaf plushie left on the bed, mouth opening.

“Olaf.” She gasped in realization. “She wants to play outside.”

“Can we?”

“It’s 6PM.”

“No, not yet.” Yeonjun replied, mischief in his eyes as he pointed at the digital clock by the door. “It’s 5:53.”

Y/N sighed, wringing her hands as she bit her lip. Yeonjun promised to take Jisu to the park—the dreaded park where he he first kissed her, then told her he didn’t love her anymore a year later. She didn’t think she was ready to go back there—much more with him clutching onto her little sister looking he was a whole-ass father and her following behind them with a diaper bag like some kind of overbearing mother. Still, she couldn’t help but crack into bits as he shot her pleading eyes and a pout.

“Fine.”

Yeonjun cheered, a grin on his lips as he crouched down and took Jisu’s hand in his—voice hushed as he leaned close to the little with a smirk, whispering conspiratorially.

“Hey Jisu,” he giggled. “Do you want to build a snowman?”

The Olaf he and Jisu made was, to be honest, looked more like a blob than a snowman—but the little girl didn’t know that, so it was fine. Yeonjun didn’t mind it—not when Y/N sat on a nearby bench, almost relieved at Jisu’s loud laughter. As he stuck the carrot on the snowman’s face, Yeonjun found the little girl gone from his side. Instead, she stood a few feet away—helping another child and their guardian build his own snowman.

“Soobin?” Yeonjun asked in surprise as his blue-haired best friend popped up from behind the snowman, shooting a grin at him.

“Oh, hi, hyung.” Soobin giggled, waving his hand as he pointed to the little girl patting the snowman next to him. “This kid yours?”

“Y/N’s sister.” Yeonjun nodded, eyes falling onto the girl watching him. “This is your nephew, right?”

“Yeah. My sister had a business meeting and asked me to come along and distract him. He was antsy so I just brought him here.” Soobin shared, pointing over to a cafe down the street. “I thought you said Y/N wouldn’t talk to you.“

“Well, she wasn’t—but here we are.” Yeonjun sighed.

“Back together?”

“Not yet,” Yeonjun frowned, hands falling onto Jisu’s hair with a skeptical look as he glanced back at the girl on the bench. “Hey, Bin, do you mind—“

“Watching the kid for a bit while you try and get Y/N back?” Soobin asked, lips tilting into a teasing smile as he giggled. “Of course not, go.”

“Thanks, man.” Yeonjun chuckled, not even attempting to deny Soobin’s words as he turned over to the little girl. “Hey Jisu, this is my best friend Soobin. I’m gonna talk to sissy for a bit while you play with them, okay?”

“Okay!” The little girl replied, not even sparing him a glance as she kept on adding layers and layers of snow onto the snowman.

“Go,” Soobin urged him, pushing him away.

Yeonjun shot the boy a grateful look before wandering back over to Y/N—sitting next to her. He watched as she stuck her hand out, lips pursed as she caught snowflakes on her palm.

“You know,” Yeonjun spoke up. “the first time I told you I loved you, you were catching snowflakes in your hands too.”

Y/N didn’t answer, eyes still fixed on the melting flakes of snow in her hands. Yeonjun sighed as he grabbed her hands, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Hey, remember how we used to date?” Yeonjun asked, making the girl turn to him.

“Yes, until you decided to stop.” Y/N replied curtly, eyes turning back to her sister a few feet away. “Look, Yeonjun—thank you for helping me with Jisu, but please stop with—“

“With what?”

“This.” Y/N sighed, pulling her hands away as she gazed back at him. “I’m gonna be honest with you—I’m still not over you, and this really isn’t helping.”

“I’m sorry for what I did, but—“

“No buts,” Y/N closed her eyes. “I really don’t wanna hear the reason why you don’t love me anymore.”

“But I do.”

“Stop lying to me,” Y/N pleaded, turning back to him. “Stop making me believe this screwed-up fantasy about still having you—“

“but you do still have me—“

“Why did you even come?” Y/N asked, scooting away. “I mean, I called you at the spur of the moment, really. You could have said no.”

“You were crying—I hate it when you cry.”

“Is that why you left me?” Y/N wondered. “Is it because I looked ugly when I cried?”

“I think you look beautiful when you cry, Y/N.” Yeonjun replied. “You look beautiful all the time.”

“Then why?”

Yeonjun sighed, turning back to the little girl in the snow.

“Because I loved you too much, and you don’t deserve someone as crappy as I am.” Yeonjun replied. “So I convinced myself to believe I didn’t love you anymore, maybe it would hurt less when you leave.”

“Did it?”

“It was the worst mistake I’ve ever done.” Yeonjun sighed, turning back over to Y/N. “I still love you, Y/N.”

This time, her head was thrown back on the bench—eyes fixed at the cloudy sky. Her hands were outstretched once more, catching snowflakes in her hands. There were a few moments of silence before she sighed once more.

“I love winter.” She spoke. “I met you during winter, and you told me you loved me during winter.”

“I left you on winter too.”

Y/N turned over to him, a sad smile on her face.

“Maybe, and it hurt. That’s how I know that I loved you so much.” she said, free hand falling over his on the bench. “Besides, you’re coming back to me on a winter’s day too.”

Yeonjun slowly turned over to her, a grin on his lips as he leaned his forehead on hers.

“Can I kiss you?”

Her lips tilted to a smile, a soft giggle falling off her lips as he asked her the same question as the day he told her he loved her for the very first time.

“Yes.”

Yeonjun sighed in relief before crashing his lips against hers, hands delicately clutching her face as he savored the first taste of her in months. He pulled away softly, eyes closed.

“That was the worst month of my life.” Yeonjun said. “Don’t—I can’t lose you again.”

“Then don’t leave me again.” Y/N quipped back, hand slamming on his arm.

“I love you.” He giggled back, leaning down to place another kiss on her lips.

“I love you, too.”  Y/N smiled against his lips, uttering the words like it was her lifeline.

A snowball fell onto their laps, making Yeonjun flinch and almost bite Y/N’s lip as he pulled away. The couple looked over as Soobin stood up, hand still held out after throwing the ball.

“Save it for tonight, there are children here!” Soobin declared before plopping back down on the snowy ground next to the children.

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, sighing as Y/N giggled—face buried against his neck as she wrapped her arms around his arm. Yeonjun chuckled back, pressing a soft kiss against her temple before glancing back at the large blob of snow he created with Jisu. With a grin, he squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear.

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

Y/N smiled, looking back up at him and pressing a soft kiss against his lips before shaking her head with a chuckle.

“Yeah.”

[dinosaurtsukki]

housemates with karasuno

okay this is so fucking long because i love karasuno so much i’d get up to a million antics with them

how you ended up living with them: 

you were probably friends with the entire volleyball team in high school since you were one of the three (cute) managers so when they all suggested living together you were like ‘sure why not? how bad could it be?’

honestly this is so unrealistic but we’re enjoying ourselves aren’t we? 

since there are so many of you in one single house there are probably like 3 to 4 people in a single room

the original room arrangement was that the first-years and second-years would be in separate rooms but ennoshita was like ‘no way are you putting me in the same room as noya and tanaka i will die’

so you, ennoshita, yamaguchi, and tsukishima are all in another room (the second-most peaceful room in the house)

daichi, sugawara, and asahi are all together in another room because they’re pretty tight

and hinata, kageyama, along with tanaka and noya share twin bunk beds in the fourth room

now let’s get into living with this chaotic bunch:

daichi is undoubtedly the head of household. at first he didn’t want to have to manage that on top of everything else but one night he was making a chart for chores (along with small stickers of everyone’s faces) and finally accepted that he was in charge of the house

he’s def the type to manipulate the chore chart just a little bit. if tanaka or noya managed to piss him off, daichi will just slide their face under ‘dish duty’ and they’re none the wiser

at first he feels terrible but then tanaka and noya accidentally break a window and daichi just thinks that maybe authoritarianism isn’t so bad after all

jk guys authoritarianism is bad down with the government

you, on the other hand, know very well what daichi is doing but instead of tattling you just appeal to his good side and before you know it, you haven’t done any chores for an entire year

ASAHI IS THE TYPE OF HOUSEMATE TO BRING YOU UP A PLATE OF SLICED FRUIT WITHOUT EVEN ASKING AHHH

when the clock hits four, its cut fruit time and there are different fruits for every day and asahi just brings up plates of nice cut fruit for everyone

you kind of wonder if asahi ever gets tired of slicing fruit for EVERYONE IN THE HOUSE until you see him split open a pineapple with his bare hands

also he has such a huge closet but if you want a snazzy outfit all you have to do is knock on his shared room and he’ll whip one up for you

okay you guys are probably thinking that sugawara is the mom of the household but unfortunately he is a gemini and therefore even satan fears him

suga’s the one who cooks for everyone but when he’s in the kitchen you had better stay away because he gets intTENSE. he probably uses this big ass knife

potholders? suga doesn’t know her. he uses his bare hands to get trays and stuff out of the oven. just watching him cook stresses you out so nobody watches him cook

but his cuisine is exquisite nobody has complaints

i feel like their room probably has a fuck ton of snacks with asahi’s fruit-cutting, suga’s cooking skills and i bet daichi has a stash of snacks that he keeps from noya and tanaka (it’s under his mattress, that’s why his back hurts)

you, ennoshita, tsukishima, and yamaguchi have by far the cleanest room though (just slightly cleaner than the third-years’ room because they have snack wrappers) and your roommates are all workaholics

your room is pretty much ‘bookshelves and studyblr aesthetic’ except for ennoshita’s CPR doll that stays in a corner of the room looking creepy and out of place but you don’t have a closet to put it in

yamaguchi swears that it’s haunted because it changes positions every time he wakes up in the morning and he keeps trying to convince his roommates about it

little does he know tsukki and ennoshita like to move the CPR doll around to scare him because they’re like that

tbh you are not a fan of the CPR doll either but that doesn’t mean you won’t play with it by dressing it up 

these three are such workaholics that there’s literally only one person asleep there at a time and you like studying there because of the Intense Productive Energy

they even have their own espresso machine and a minifridge full of Red Bull

tsukki is the best at waking you up he’ll literally grip your shoulders and shake you or spray you with water

you can tell he enjoys it and you hate it so much but it does get your papers going

the one thing about this group is that they forget this little thing called ‘self-care’ because they work all the time (well except for yamaguchi who knows how to put on a sheet mask once in a while)

that means you’ll sometimes be knocking on their door with some of asahi’s Sliced Fruit or some instant ramen you whipped up yourself

ennoshita also has a habit of passing out in random places so it takes you and yamaguchi to haul him up to his bed

you also use this opportunity to tuck in his CPR doll next to him in bed because why not?

the chaotic, noisy members of the household are all relegated to one room for the good of the entire house and its downstairs where the walls are thick

these guys are the bunk-bed sharing kind of people but they kind of just switch beds depending on how they feel like it

tanaka: hey dude, is it ok if i top for tonight?

noya: oh yeah sure! no problem!

you: 👁👄👁

suga: they’re talking about bunk beds

hinata and kageyama like to play video games during their breaks but they only have one game and that’s Naruto Shippuden: Ultimate Ninja Storm 3

i have an obsession with naruto don’t @ me

that’s because they bought a playstation on craigslist and it came with one game and that was it

you like to play with them when you’re taking a break and kageyama’s always the one who loses and he gets so frustrated with himself that you let him win at times just so he feels good

hinata always uses hinata when he plays but he’s also the type to elbow kageyama or purposely swerve a hand in your face when he’s playing 

even though sugamama is in charge of the kitchen, noya and hinata do like to experiment with cooking from time to time and if daichi is in a good mood he’ll indulge them

they’ll even rope you in on their shenanigans and pretty soon you’re making a casserole out of pepperoni and cheetos just in time for sugawara to come in and see what happened to his kitchen

it usually ends with all of you guys just ordering pizza and you having to clean the kitchen with noya and hinata

house incident: ennoshita’s CPR doll that ACTUALLY MIGHT be haunted

okay i know that i already wrote about ennoshita’s cpr doll being not haunted and that tsukki and ennoshita just like to mess with it but IMAGINE IT ACTUALLY BEING HAUNTED

it starts out with yamaguchi getting mad at tsukki or ennoshita for putting the cpr doll in his bed while he was asleep and they were both like ‘no seriously we didn’t do it’

and you could vouch for them because you were the last one to fall asleep in your room and the CPR doll was way in ennoshita’s side of the room (yamaguchi believes you cause you’re the only person he trusts in the room)

you and yamaguchi begin to think that something strange is going on and like ‘is it just me or are those dead, plastic eyes somehow following my every move?’

it gets to the point that you have to turn the plastic doll around the face the wall when you’re studying

and then, you begin to notice that the doll is nearer to your bed when you wake up in the morning and again, neither tsukishima nor ennoshita touched it

because of this you now stay over at daichi, asahi, and sugawara’s room because you’re so creeped out by the doll and also because they have snacks

and then an Incident happens wherein noya and tanaka, who are both doing a first-aid class, decide to secretly use the doll while no one is around at home

although noya and tanaka trying to practice cpr by themselves is hilarious

just visualize tanaka trying to administer cpr while dueting ‘staying alive’ with noya

they both take a break and turn away from the doll for one second only to see it standing upright when they turn right back

tanaka: that doll just moved on its own, right?

noya: yeah, pretty much

that’s when you and yamaguchi come home and see the cpr doll with tanaka and noya looking very afraid

you: the doll’s haunted isn’t it?

yamaguchi: I KNEW IT !!

daichi comes home to the four of you trying to dispose of the doll by fitting it into a box and gets mad at everyone because you can’t just do that to ennoshita’s stuff

but then he sees all of you looking clearly in distress and decides to call for a house meeting about ennoshita’s haunted doll

asahi brings sliced fruit

tsukishima and kageyama very firmly talk about how it’s not possible which is weird because it’s something they agree on for once

daichi: well, where did you get this doll, ennoshita? ennoshita: i got it for cheap at an old antique store. the owner was super intent to get rid of it so i bought it

you, tanaka, yamaguchi, and noya: 👁👄👁

daichi: even i don’t believe in ghosts but damn ennoshita what were you thinking?

and then sugawara who has been eerily quiet this entire time brings out a ouija board and goes ‘LET’S EXORCISE THIS BITCH’

a few minutes later you all are set up in the living room with candles, the ouija board, and the cpr doll

tsukishima’s just there to livestream everything (STORYTIME: my dumb housemates think this doll is haunted)

you, sugawara, and hinata are in charge of the seance (hinata ironically drew the shortest straw and was forced to participate)

sugawara: spirit of the cpr doll, what is your name?

the triangle piece on the board starts moving, you are looking at your friends in shock, asahi has fainted. the triangle piece stops at the word ‘yes’

you: oh my god this ghost is an idiot

daichi: all in favor of getting rid of this doll?

everyone except ennoshita raises their hands

sugawara is already on the phone with the current owners of the warren museum

you: why do you have their number memorized?

sugawara: ,,, reasons

the cpr doll is picked up the next day. kageyama pokes at the doll and goes ‘you’re just a doll, cpr doll. you can’t do anything’. asahi feels sorry that it’s gonna be displayed naked in the museum and gives the doll a little fedora hat

also ennoshita is compensated for the doll and now has enough money to buy AN ACTUAL, LEGIT CPR DOLL from AN ACTUAL, LEGIT CPR DOLL FACTORY

you and yamaguchi still hate it

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos​ @miyumtwins​ @strawberriimilkshake​ @pocubo​ @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love

[masonscig]

stay

pairing | mason x detective sofía olmos

word count | 3.3k

warnings | discussions of mortality, mentions of sex, lots of angst. but like. in domestic situations

tags | @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @natesewell, @masonsfangs, @agentsunshine, @tuagonia, @pixelsandkink, @crackerdumortain, @echohauville, @admdmrtn, @bravomckenzie, @durogatorymortain 

author’s note | well i’ve been toying with the idea of sofía choosing not to turn, so i thought i’d flesh that out and ruin my own day :-) so... here’s all the times mason tried convincing sofía and every time she turned him down. i’m not exactly 100% satisfied w how this came out but i’m still not sure how mason would react in this situation so i’m making things up as i go tbh. the title is inspired by 400 lux by lorde specifically the “i’d like it if you stayed” line bc whew!!! and i’d like to clarify that she’s not like ancient by the end of this she just greyed early LMAO

read it on ao3

•─────────────────•

The first time was casual. She had a knack for musing her thoughts aloud, tossing her harmless opinions out for anyone who’d catch them.

She was good at starting conversations in that way – while he’d never been one for talking.

She never did it with heavy topics, though.

He could sense a shift in her before she said a word. Squirming just a bit in her seat, shifting from thigh to thigh, jaw clenching, shoulders tensing; all telltale signs that she was on edge about something.

He assumed it was the nightmares. Or the disease seeping its way into the town of Wayhaven, its rot afflicting its citizens, her suffering taking a quiet backseat to her duties.

She surprised him, and that was rare.

“I don’t think I’d turn, if given the chance.”

“You really think that’s in the cards for you?” He said, a bit rudely, scoffing.

He didn’t intend to be that mean, but she couldn’t understand the complexities of immortality just yet. She wasn’t ready to deal with that – she could barely handle her life as it was.

“I know…” she winced, trailing off. “I’m just saying. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it.”

At least she felt the same.

––––

The second time, it came as a question.

He’d all but forgotten about her bringing it up. For him, it was out of the question. He didn’t care if she wanted it – he couldn’t do that to her.

It was one of the first times he stayed (was compelled to stay, like he sensed she actually needed him there).

She kind of tipped her chin up at him from below, staring like she always did.

He’d known her for her impulse – quick to assist, quick to support, quick to fight, even if she knew she was outmatched.

But with him, she always held back, and he knew that. He wasn’t quite sure if he was grateful or jealous that she reserved the wild parts of herself for him and the emotional parts for everyone else.

She reached over and pushed a strand of his unruly hair away from his face, fingertips lingering on his temple.

“Would you want me to turn?”

This time, he bit back the snarky retorts that threatened to burst out of him. “Not sure.”

She nodded, content, settling against his chest again. “That’s okay. There’s no rush.”

He couldn’t agree more.

––––

The third time should’ve counted as the first – he was the one to initiate it, surprisingly. And it wasn’t easy.

Her hair was tied up in a sloppy bun, a few strands of hair clinging to the sweat on her temples. She was using her chin to fold the fresh towels she’d just grabbed from the dryer, a relatively easy chore compared to the deep cleaning she’d given the cabin.

Fold, plop, fold, plop, fold, plop.

The fragrant smell of lavender in her favorite detergent didn’t bother him as much anymore. It kinda relaxed him. He was up to his neck in folded towels, just watching her hum to herself and hand them over one by one, smiling at him every single time.

When she got to the sheets, however, she jumped on top of them, rolling around the mattress until she was wrapped up in them.

“Mmmm. I could live in warm sheets forever,” she smiled up at him, laughing when he tossed the stack to the ground, opting out of being helpful, instead climbing over her body and pressing his weight onto her.

“Hey, I just washed those,” she pretended to pout through her giggles, her arms trapped in the tangle of sheets, his arms tightening around her to hold her in place.

“S’not a big deal,” he murmured, pressing kisses to the scarred skin at her neck, smiling into her skin when he heard her sigh contentedly.

“It’d be a big deal if I made you wash them. You’re lucky I like you,” she squirmed, freeing a hand from the covers, a hand brushing softly over his hair.

He normally couldn’t stand the feeling of his strands being tugged – his hypersensitivity made it feel identical to the sensation of something crawling and biting his scalp until it bled.

He fucking hated feeling that way. But when Sofía tangled her hands in his hair, whether pulling on them when he was buried between her thighs, or stroking it absentmindedly in the most innocent way (like in that moment), he endured it. It honestly wasn’t half bad.

“What’s on your mind?” She asked, running a thumb over his cheekbone.

She’d learned how to read him over the years.

“Nothing urgent. Just thinkin’.”

She grinned, stuck a leg between his thigh, and pushed herself upwards, trying to flip him over. She was fucking awful at anything combat-related, so he just rolled his eyes and went with it.

She flopped on top of him, nuzzling into his chest. Her body was draped over his, which he normally hated, but the weight of her didn’t drive him up the fucking wall anymore. So he allowed it.

“Well, you know I’m always here to listen.”

They laid there for a while, and he was silent, unsure.

“How long do you plan on living?”

“What do you mean?” She pulled back and stared at him, loose hairs a wild frame around her face.

He huffed in frustration. “I don’t fucking know what I mean.”

“Hey, hey, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

Her gaze was soft, tender, understanding he’d never quite felt from anyone else nestled in her warm hazel irises.

She was so patient – way more than he deserved. No matter how many times he pushed her away, she was always there, waiting for him to come back to her.

“I’ve been thinking about how long you’ve got, is all,” he said, pulling her tighter when she tucked her head underneath his chin.

“How long we’ve got,” she whispered, running a palm over his chest.

“Yeah.”

She was quiet for a while, so long that he thought she’d fallen asleep.

“I’m not sure how long I’ve got, but I know I want you there.”

She leaned up, pressing a long kiss to his lips.

He wasn’t much for romanticism, but even he could admit that he enjoyed softer kisses from her.

Sofía always kissed him like it was the last time. Granted, it might’ve been because of their rocky start, but she poured everything into them, regardless of if it was a “good morning” kiss or a “see you later” kiss or a “fuck me until I can’t walk” kiss.

He pulled back with a smirk. “You want me for my body.”

“Oh, shut up. You know there’s more to it than that,” she rolled her eyes, slinging a leg over him to straddle him.

“Oh?” He quirked a brow at her.

“Yeah, it’s just a perk,” she teased, tugging him in for another searing kiss, and that was the end of that.

––––

The fourth, fifth, and sixth times were all him.

Once on the rooftop, once when she was sick, and once in the afterglow.

It got both easier and harder with every time.

The sensation of the wind against his cheeks struck him like a blade slicing at his skin, the smoke dulling it to a pinch instead of a cut.

She sipped her coffee next to him, tugging her side of the blanket underneath her chin. Her bangs had grown out, the soft edges of them grazing the plush material.

Her cheeks were flushed, the wind drawing out the rose of her cheeks.

She was his favorite garden.

It wasn’t his job to nurture her, but he wanted to. He hadn’t admitted it out loud before.

In every sense of the word, he was her guardian. Self appointed, but hers nonetheless.

It was hard to get the words past his lips, but when he did, his shoulders lifted with relief.

“I think you should stay with me.”

She swallowed her mouthful of coffee, brows furrowed. “I am. This is our house.”

He eyed her, mouth tugging up at the side. She was still figuring him out. Hell, he was still figuring himself out. It was fun to watch her detective skills in action.

“Oh…” she trailed off, heart racing. He could practically see the blood pumping to her heart.

“I, uh, don’t know.”

“Don’t know? What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shook her head, staring into her mug. “I don’t know how I feel about… forever.”

“Forever with me,” he said, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, his other hand fisting the blanket at his chest.

“No, no, not that. I just don’t have the best track record with being… satisfied with life.”

He chose not to respond, glad he knew how to refrain from saying things he’d regret.

The cigarette was gently pulled from his lips, and she was right there – face even closer to his despite them being huddled under blankets.

He blew out a thick plume of smoke from the corner of his mouth, away from her face. She laughed, swatting it away, before tossing the cigarette off the roof.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that,” he smirked, eyes flitting to her mouth.

“It’s not you, I promise. I just have to sort through some things,” she said, the sincerity in her tone enough to make him believe her.

“I believe you.”

It wasn’t that he ever didn’t trust her – he trusted her more than anyone he’d ever known – it was that he never felt compelled to verbalize it. They just… knew.

Those three words softened her gaze and pulled her to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips that he quickly deepened (after throwing her mug off the roof).

The first time she got sick, Mason wasn’t equipped to deal with it.

She looked weak, broken out in cold sweats, the warmth drained from her features. The first twenty four hours were torturous – despite it not being a life threatening illness, she’d never been this way.

He knew humans got sick (of course) but it wasn’t like they ran into battle with their weapons raised and he could anticipate the fallout – one day she was fine, and the next she was hospitalized.

He was supposed to take care of her, but instead he stood by, helpless, as the nurses poked and prodded and doped her up until she was comatose.

His mind was reeling with possibilities, mulling over what would happen if she was ripped from him.

I didn’t give her a kiss before I left. I didn’t take her hiking like we’d always planned.

I didn’t tell her I loved her.

I mean, he had, hadn’t he?

Living with her, sleeping with her, being with her was more than enough… right?

She stirred after a while, trying and failing to sit up.

“Don’t get up. You’ll hurt yourself,” he almost barked, adjusting the pillow underneath her head. “You’re not supposed to be moving.”

She laughed weakly, barely pushing the bangs away from her face. “You worried about me?”

“Of course I am. What kinda question is that?” She chuckled a few more times, morphing into a cough. “Just teasing. You’re sweet.”

He grabbed the cup of ice water and adjusted the straw, bringing it to her lips gently, letting her sip it.

It was a different experience considering he hadn’t ever taken care of her like that before. She was fiercely independent, so she never really needed him like that. Still didn’t, even as she was shivering uncontrollably in the hospital bed.

“Thanks,” she breathed, settling back against the pillow.

“You shouldn’t have to worry about this,” he mumbled, setting the cup down with some force, the plastic clacking against the tray.

“It’s not a big deal. I should be back to new in a couple of days,” she said, wiggling until she was on her side, facing his seat at her bedside.

“It is a big deal.”

“Mason, I promise, I’m fine –”

“I want you to turn.”

He didn’t mean for it to come out so demanding, but in truth, he was desperate.

She chewed her lip, tucking her pillow underneath her chin. “Do you really want to have that conversation here? With me doped up on medication?”

“No.”

She was silent for a while. Her gaze raked over his face, flitting from his eyes to his nose to his cheeks to his hair back to his eyes again.

“I don’t want to argue,” she said finally. “My brain isn’t even functioning properly to argue my case.”

“Doesn’t have to be an argument.”

“It’ll be one.” Her voice was sure. Weak, but unwavering.

He figured he had time to convince her – plead his case, make an undisputed argument, and win her over. Something. But he could never find the right time. Or rather, he was never driven to do so.

The one time he felt compelled to bring it up was in the early hours of the morning, the first rays of sun slicing underneath their dark curtains, gold streaking across their crumpled clothes long since abandoned on the floor.

He hated the way the sun made him feel, but seeing it catch the silver strands in her hair changed his mind. Just a bit.

He drew patterns across the smooth skin of her back with his fingers, smirking at the shiver he elicited from her body without even trying.

Her head was tucked underneath his chin, arm and leg curled around him, face buried in his chest.

“So needy,” he murmured into her hair, watching her back rise and fall.

Her chest rumbled against his, her laugh vibrating up through him (one of his favorite sensations).

“‘S’cause you’re warm,” she mumbled, squeezing him tighter. “I’d stay in this position forever if I could.”

“You could.”

She tensed against him, her grip loosening. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that, Mason…”

“Will you ever be?” He asked, a bit sarcastically, regretting his tone almost immediately.

“I… don’t know.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve talked about it.”

“Why do we have to talk about it now? Can’t we just… I don’t know, sleep? And talk about it tomorrow?”

He sighed, dropping his arm from her back. “At this rate, we’ll never talk about it.”

“What? No, we will, I just need more time –”

“Sofía.”

She pushed away from him until she was on her side, staring up at his stern expression.

“I know,” she said, voice low, pressing a kiss on the crook of his elbow. “Honestly, I’m fucking terrified.”

“What’re you scared of?” He asked, brows furrowed.

“Disappointing you, mostly. And the process. And living forever. I feel like I’m upsetting somebody one way or the other.”

“Are you really worried about what I’ll think?” His laugh was curt, cutting. He didn’t really mean it to come out that way. It was just baffling to him that after all these years she still cared about what others thought of her.

“Well… yeah… you’re the only person I’m worried about disappointing in the first place,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“I’m flattered you think so highly of me, sweetheart, but I’m the last person you’d disappoint,” he shrugged, mouth lifting at the corner.

“You say that, but I know you’d be upset if I chose not to turn,” she sighed, rolling on her other side, folding her pillow around her ears.

“Damn right I’d be upset.”

She scrambled to a sitting position, swinging the pillow at him, hitting his chest with a soft smack. “I know you’d be sad. But more than that… you’d be disappointed.”

“You’re going on and on about my disappointment but I’m failing to see why that’s important here.”

“Because if I choose not to turn I’m essentially a ticking time bomb and you’re gonna treat me differently and everything we do is going to be tainted by that because I’ve let you down –”

Mason cut her off with a kiss, palms cupping her cheeks – no, cradling her face – like she was fragile, precious.

He was never much for words, nor was he one for meaningful sentiments. He was never good with words like his counterparts.

But just then, in that moment, seeing his girl ramble on and on about how her eternity boiled down to those she cared about – he had to say something.

“I need you to stay with me.”

He breathed the words into her, lips grazing her own, like in his own way he was pouring how he felt – what he wanted – into her.

She curled her fingers around his palms, which were still gently holding her face, and pulled back so she could see his eyes.

She was misty-eyed and trembling, like whatever she needed to confess was ten times harder than what he’d just said.

“I would be turning for you, not for me.”

His first reaction was anger.

He could feel his body heating up, his jaw working, his muscles tensing underneath his skin. But she didn’t deserve his immediate reaction. She was better than that.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

She rolled her lips together, pursing them, anything she could do to hide her bottom lip quivering. “You’re the only one I’d do it for.”

“And… that’s a bad thing.”

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, blinking furiously to try to keep the tears back. He still held her, as gentle as ever.

“I’m just starting to figure things out and – and I think I’d disappoint myself if I stayed alive and couldn’t live up to all the good things I did when I was human.”

“There you go with that fucking word again –”

“I can’t think of another word for it. Just disappointment.”

“You mean with yourself? Because I’m sure as shit not,” he joked, getting a small part-sniffle-part-laugh from her. He ran a knuckle underneath her eye, catching a tear there.

“I don’t want to sound rude –”

He laughed, a genuine laugh, so much so that he dropped his hands and fell back against the headboard.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“The rudest person on the planet,” she said, still sitting up, reaching back to tie her hair in a sloppy bun.

“Hit me.”

“I don’t want my existence to hinge on another person’s.”

“It’s not. And that wasn’t rude. It was honest.”

She squirmed, tugging the sheet up to tuck under her arms and cover her up like a makeshift shirt. “I’m not making this decision for me anymore. It’s for us.”

He shrugged. “Sure, I guess, but if you ever get tired of me you could just, I dunno. Bail.”

“Isn’t this life… enough? Won’t you get bored of me? I don’t know if I’m interesting enough to keep you preoccupied for… uh, ever.”

He shook his head. “No.”

She leaned back against the headboard, arm pressed against his. “How are you so sure about everything?”

“I’m not.”

“I wish I were more like you,” she sighed, scrubbing the back of her hand against her cheeks, wiping away any stray tears.

“You could be,” he joked, this time a bit more pleading than the last time he’d said a variant of the phrase.

He slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him, hand rested on the plush skin of her stomach. She nuzzled into his skin again, breathing deeply.

“I don’t know if living forever is in the cards for me,” she mumbled into him.

––––

[disclaimer at the end bc i am still very ... ab this fic but !!! this is the first time i’m really writing domestic mason x sofía so i’m not even sure if i nailed the dynamic bc i’m so used to them never being on the same page .. which if you think about it they’re really not on the same page here LMAO but you know what i mean!! and tbh im not even sure i wrapped it up well... because like... how DO you end a conversation like that SJDFKSKDF like i racked my brain trying to figure it out and i just let it fizzle out bc i think after all the years of fighting they know they’re both too stubborn to change each others’ minds... i think. i might revisit this in the future bc this concept is very pleasing (sick and twisted i know) to me]

[brw]

Tony Stark and Reed Richards for the character ask thing

TONY STARK

how i feel about this character: 😬 ngl i... don't care for him. at all. i don't vehemently hate him, there's definitely times where i appreciate him & his personality but it's few and far between and i... genuinely do not get the hype. i think its mostly mcu fans' fault for my dislike, its just he's fucking EVERYWHERE now, it's impossible to miss him? like he plays a big role in EVERY avengers comic now, he gets ongoing titles all the time, and it's just so frustrating especially when you consider characters who used to be more or less on the same level on them (like hank pym! who, by the way, has been dead for 6 consecutive years! that would never happen with tony!) or even more popular than him now get streamlined because of the mcu's popularity. by himself, i don't really mind him that much, but with how famous he is now and how large and frankly annoying his fan base is i just... now really do not like the character.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: short list here; reed, because i find their dymanic of reed as someone who does everything for his family and will do everything and anything he can to protect their interests above everyone else but also wants to keep his hands clean and believes, genuinely, in the good of the world, and tony as someone who will do horrendous things in the name of the greater good who always has the bigger picture in mind interesting. i also don't know a lot about it but he seems cute with rhodey? even if i think rhodey deserves a bigger chance to be his own character away from tony as is sometimes denied i can always appreciate a good best friends to lovers dymanic :)

my non romantic otp for this character: um? i honestly don't know 😭 i don't like him enough to say, i guess him n reed again? him n rhodey again? help 😭😭😭

my unpopular opinion of this character: he does not deserve the fame he has. like, i dont mean to sound jealous or whatever but pre 2007 movie he was not the most well liked character or even that popular. like obviously he had fans because he had solo series on and off for a very long time but it just feels SO ridiculous that tony stark has a bigger fandom than the fucking fantastic four. THE FANTASTIC FOUR. marvel's first superhero team, and yet??? like okay. he might have things to offer i don't see. he obviously does, i mean, he got three movies and multiple solo series. but he has most certainly not got enough as a character to overshadow the fantastic four, the x-men, etc and i will never forgive the mcu & mcu fans (and mark miller, he deserves blame too) for making it so. again, by himself he's fine but it is ridiculous to me that a one note white character that appeared in his third film (harley keener or... whatever) has 2000s more fics than THE PROTAGONIST OF INTO THE SPIDERVERSE, MILES MORALES. it is just... so vile and frustrating to me.

one thing i wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon: he didn't exist <3 jk jk um i'm not sure? i guess it would be funny if he was like... stick thin underneath the armour. like idk. he's in the armour 24/7 it makes sense to me for him to be a skinny little nerd under there. like completely fucking small. like you can't be a superhero AND be a billionaire and avoid all those taxes AND run the avengers AND run multiple massive corporations and still work out... even if you take away eating and sleeping there's just not enough time... it would be funny if he was just a tiny little boy underneath all that djndndbf

my otp: gonna say him and rhodey again. like i say, can never resist a good best friends to lovers dymanic.

my cross over ship: jdjshdhdh literally none i don't think about him enough to consider it <3

headcanon fact: 100% think he was the one to offer reed that money to star in a p*rno it's just so funny to me to imagine dhsnndnd

REED RICHARDS

how i feel about this character: HE'S MY BOY! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH! like i guess it's paradoxical considering how similar he is to tony in some ways but man i just love reed so much. i so genuinely think reed richards is what tony stark fans want him to be. like they (mcu fans) make up elaborate headcanons of him being a good dad and an ethical billionaire and its like no that's reed richards? canonically he's gone broke bc he refuses to get money off his inventions... u have the wrong man... anyway he's also an asexual LEGEND i do not take criticism and ofc. autistic icon. literally he's so autistic it makes me <3 i love him dearly.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: it would be easier to list the people i DON'T ship with him lol. sue, obviously, victor ofc, and ben are the big ones, but i just LOVE his dymanic with t'challa and i think they would rlly work it... i also love the idea of him with namor, idk with victor it's just so funny to imagine reed as like. bizarrely attractive to rulers of foreign countries. blackagar faces the same problem <3 i also do believe him n hank pym dated in college for a bit... all their weird little microaggressions towards each other just makes me feel that way... again i do like him w/ tony and i made this weird au where he and emma frost got together which if prompted i WILL talk about. probably. more but yeah <3

my non romantic otp for this character: while i do LOVE them together as lovers i just love. benreed generally <3 like they're LITERALLY besties they love each other sm and i'm tired of pretending they don't????? so many people ignore this relationship and it makes me so sad!!! they're best friends they love each other fight for each other fight with each other theyre literally besties... smh put some respect on the benreed name 😤

my unpopular opinion of this character: i don't think this is that unpopular but it is in certain circles so! i genuinely think reed is the best marvel dad! like you can talk abt others all u want but the fact is that reed is the only character i can think of who has always been there in his kid's lives and has consistently put their needs first. like not saying other characters are bad but even at his worst writing he's always done his best for his kids and certainly has been full of love for them. other characters at their worse have. murdered their own kids <3 genuinely he's the best marvel dad and sure there's not a lot of competition but. yeah <3

one thing i wish would happen/had happened with this character: I WANT A CANONICAL AUTISM DIAGNOSIS NOW. literally he is SO autistic & there are... no big autistic marvel characters! at all! literally none! the closest we have is legion (who was written in an incredible ableist way and autism hasnt been used to describe him in a solid 30 years) and monet (and it turned out it wasn't monet but one of her twin sisters impersonating her :/) so it would just mean so much to see a canonically autistic character like reed who is older & has a wife and kids who he loves and who they love in return on panel. like so much of the rep we DO have is like, young kids or teens and idk an autistic adult would just mean so much to me. especially one like reed who is as selfless & loving as he is.

my otp: tie between doomreed and reedsue! any option that gets this noodle nerd lots of love i'm good for tbh

my cross over ship: him and ralph dibney from dc should date... they have so much in common... stretchy autistic man who's very smart and kind of silly who loves his wife sue who pegs him 🥴 they'd have so much to talk about sjbdhdhd also imagining the look on ben's face realising there's TWO of them is. so funny.

headcanon fact: he's aromantic he's asexual and neither of these stop him from his very meaningful & passionate relationship with his wife :)

assorted character ask game!

[littlemisssquiggles]

Maybe the sudden drop of RG from CRWBY is because a huge portion of the fandom considers this shipping problematic (mainly because we don't know how much Ozpin is involved, which tbh is a fair point in my opinion)? One way or another, it is weird that this is happening now. RG has been criticized for this for years at this point. Little late to drop the ship because of this on CRWBY's part if you ask me.

Hey there Seaberry.

…Yeahhh…here’s the thing with that---a lot of the complaints that the so-called antis made against Rosegarden was denounced in the actual canon and this is inclusive of the whole “Ozpin issue”. 

Part of my main reasoning for never factoring Oz into the Rosegarden equation stemmed from the important fact that despite sharing a body with Ozpin, Ruby has always treated Oscar as his own person regardless of this. From Ruby’s perspective, she has always differentiated the two souls from each other and her relationship with either reflected that. Not once throughout the entire series has Ruby ever treated Oscar as Oz. While everyone else ultimately came to see Oscar as part of the group outside of Oz in later seasons, Ruby has always been mindful of the fact that Oscar has his own identity from the beginning and this point is emphasized by the show constantly drawing attention to the importance of Oscar’s own individuality and his fears of losing that with the impending merge.

Not to mention that the showrunners themselves already denounced the “Oz issue” back during V6 in the Lost Fable episode. 

In V6CH3, I specifically remember a part of Ozma’s backstory that highlighted him sharing a lifetime with a successor who had a family of his own.

As I recall correctly, despite sharing a body and duty to protect the world with an ancient soul---this Wizard---who I dubbed Henkle---was still able to have a life of his own with a loving wife and kids despite Ozma’s presence.

Despite sharing a body, the canon PLOT indicated that Ozma ultimately learned to live in harmony with the men he was paired with by showing one of them with his own family while Ozma looked on in the background; allowing this man to have his own life with his loved ones and never coming between that.

It is for reasons such as this why I always rolled my eyes at the antis who kept using the “Ozpin issue” in arguments against the Rosegarden pair since the show already debunked this and said it wasn’t a problem. So forgive me if the idea of the showrunners listening to these fans now all of sudden doesn’t make sense to me when they themselves denounced this issue in their own writing seasons ago.

This just makes me not understand the CRWBY showrunners even more now. Ever since newcomer CRWBY Writer---Kiersi Burkhart--- felt the need to comment about the Rosegarden moment from V7CH9 in the V7 Commentary, I’ve had a sinking feeling that the showrunners might “change” something about Rosegarden dynamic moving forward for V8. Because of all the RG moments that’s been tossed out over the seasons, I felt it odd that the one that received the most backlash from certain-certain folk in the FNDM was the one to be talked about.

And yet here we are for V8 where it is very clear that the showrunners are toying with this ship. It’s not to say that they’ve actually dropped developing the bond between Ruby and Oscar. We still received some moments with them for this season as shown during the first episode and the last episode.

As a matter of fact, I still get the vibe that the showrunners are low-key pushing the bond between Ruby and Oscar since they still frame their moments like they’ve always done in the previous seasons. However my reason for feeling as if the showrunners have toned down on the RG is because I can’t understand why they felt the need to have their hug be the only one to be interrupted.

As I said in my post---the Rosegarden reunion hug is the ONLY hug to be interrupted for this season that was said to have “many hugs”. Every other hug we got to see in perfect view but Ruby’s with Oscar was interrupted by Emerald. And what’s sad about that is the showrunners didn’t have to do that since they could’ve just as easily let Ruby hug Oscar before taking notice of Emerald entering from the back.

But that’s not what they did. They framed Ruby going into hug Oscar before having her stop right before the two got a chance to hug.

We got to see Ruby hug Penny [multiple times] and Oscar hugged by Jaune and Nora. But their hug is the one to be interrupted out of ALL the hugs for this season so far. The ONLY ONE. Really showrunners?

Why do that? Why tease the fans who like this pairing like this? Why have this hug be the only one to be interrupted from happening while every other gets to happen and be seen by the audience?

 I’m sorry this bugs me so much and what hurts about it is…as a Rosegardener, as I’ve said in the past, my reason for starting to like this ship was encouraged by the show constantly pushing Ruby and Oscar together onscreen since V5.

You pushed them together for three seasons straight and now…just to have them share a hug...no let’s interrupt that. We can’t have them hug onscreen.

And dude, what’s bothering me even more is that it’s just a hug.  It’s not like I’m asking the showrunners to make Oscar and Ruby kiss or even become a couple. It’s just a hug. One hug.

As a Rosegardening Pinehead, all I wanted was a hug between them. Just one emotionally driven hug between these two kids to cap off all the hell that the little prince suffered through on the whale by reuniting with his rose.

After EVERYTHING that Oscar has been through for this season and is going through currently regarding his fears of the Merge, the one thing I was hoping for is for him to get a warm welcoming hug from his closest friend or at least the closest thing to one he has one the hero team--the person the writers have pushed him towards for the past couple of volumes. 

And they don’t do it. Even though they teased they were gonna make them hug. I can’t believe the showrunners set up a hug between Ruby and Oscar and then they don’t do it. They teased a HUG. WHO TEASES A HUG.

It’s not even just that they didn’t do it. They framed it. Made it look like it was going to happen and then it doesn’t happen. So they teased it. I feel like the showrunners are starting to play the same games with Rosegarden that got them in trouble with BlackSun and Bumblebee and I’m sorry but I’m not liking that at all.

Don’t play games with my shipping heart CRWBY showrunners and please don’t play games with my favourite ship. Not these two. Anyone else but these two. Not my two favourite characters in this glorious mess you call an animated series [ that I still love despite how much its writing frustrates me at times]. 

~ LittleMissSquiggles (2021)

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Analysis of the Devil Ending: Who Died and Left Aristotle In Charge of Ethics? (Pt 5)

Hello and welcome back to me over-analyzing everything in Cyberpunk. If you haven’t read my other posts, please read those first! (V’s Mikoshi Poem, Johnny’s Mikoshi Poem, The Sun, New Dawn Fades).

This part took me a lot longer to complete. Not because it was particularly long…it was just painful. Jesus Christ. I hated every second of this ending. That shit hurted.

There were a few shards located at Arasaka’s estate that I chose to skip, as I did not find ant that were unique to the location. The three the game seemed to want to draw your attention to were actually not scattered as shards, they were spoken-word. The only shard I was able to find was a portion of The Odyssey. The other two pieces of literature are In Kyoto, which is quoted to V by the guard to takes her to the hospital room, and (what I believe to be) a reference to Plato’s The Allegory of the Cave. This section is going to be super theoretical. Like, more theoretical than the rest. So bare with me please.

Let’s start easy. This is the poem that the guard quotes at V as he leads her out of the operating room:

In Kyoto,

hearing the cuckoo,

I long for Kyoto

(By: Basho, translated by Jane Hirshfield)

Ten words. What could ten words amount to? The saddest goddamn words you’ll ever hear, dammit.  This poem is a feeling more than a concept. Ever feel homesick when you haven’t gone anywhere? Lonely when you’re around other people? That’s V. This was supposed to be a victory, supposed to be what they wanted. But now Johnny’s gone, scorned and betrayed, and no one they calls seems to even be able to give V the time of day. This was supposed to be a victory, their way of going back to the way things were, getting their life back, going home. But we can never go back, can’t ever erase our experiences, what we learn, how we grow. As Misty says, we should not fear change in of itself, but who we might change into. This just goes to show what happens when we betray ourselves by rejecting our own growth: all that’s left is bitterness and sorrow.

The next day when V wakes, you can pick up a shard containing a section from Chapter 8 of The Odyssey. Now, I’m not too familiar with the Odyssey. In fact, I hate the Odyssey. So if anyone wants to jump in here and add something more intelligent, I’m all for it. The Odyssey is the tale of Odysseus, who has been trying for ten long years to return to his wife and son after the Trojan war. Odysseus is basically listening to a bard remind him of all his Trojan War trauma, and begins to weep, at which time time people start questioning what’s up with this guy:

Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore,

Imposed by parents in the natal hour?

(For from the natal hour distinctive names,

One common right, the great and lowly claims:)

Say from what city, from what regions toss'd,

And what inhabitants those regions boast?

So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign'd.

In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;

No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;

Like man intelligent, they plough the tides,

Conscious of every coast and every bay,

That lies beneath the sun's all-seeing ray;

Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber'd sky,

Fearless through darkness and through clouds they fly;

Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling main,

The seas may roll, the tempests may rage in vain,

E'en the stern god that o'er the waves presides,

Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,

With fury burns; while careless they convey

Promiscuous every guest to every bay,

These ears have heard my royal sire disclouse

A dreadful story, big with future woes;

How Neptune raged, and how, by his command,

Firm rooted in a surge a ship would stand

A monument of wrath; how mound on mound

Should bury these proud towers beneath the ground.

But this the gods may frustrate or fulfill,

As suits the purpose of the Eternal Will.

But say through what waste regions hast thou stray'd

What customs noted, and what coasts survey'd;

Possess'd by wild barbarians fierce in arms,

Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?

Say why the fate o Troy awaked thy cares,

Why heaved thy bosom, and why flowed thy tears?

Reading this made me feel just how tired V must be. All this fighting, all this war, and for what? Much like Odysseus, V has been through hell and back (literally, depending on how you see it). And it never seems to end. V has been fighting for so long, yet there’s always something more; the tests the doctor gives her are endless, and they’re always being asked to do more, over and over again, with no results or end in sight. Odysseus is teetering on despair; nothing he does seems to do will ever be enough, just like V. The world will just take and take and take. It’s exactly what V’s poem asserts in Mikoshi; the world cannot be fixed, and resistance is futile. You can’t change how corporations rule the world, and as a protestor states on the TV in the hospital room, the rich have no boundaries or morals, and we are powerless to stop them from taking whatever they want. They can take not only our souls, but our bodies, devour them in order to prolong their own lives. Johnny would, of course, disagree. Even a slap in the face to The Man is better than submitting to a corpo-leash, even if that is the easier path. And in fact, he may be right, since it seems taking Hanako’s offer is the conformist path, and the only one that leads to Saburo coming back.

But Johnny isn’t there anymore to walk the rebel path at their side. No more guardian angel to whisper when they it most to never stop fighting.

There’s a lot more we could go into here with the Odyssey; comparing Arasaka to the story of Polyphemus and the cave, talking about themes of passion vs. commitment, yadayadayada. I hate the Odyssey so that can be someone else’s problem tbh.

The final piece is what the doctor asks V to read as one of their tests. Now, on surface-level, this is foreshadowing if V will choose to stay in their body, or be turned into an engram. It’s laughing at them, really, both pitying and mocking the fact that they believe they have a choice, since either way they’re once again at the mercy of the rich and powerful:

“And it was a sight to behold, he said, how a soul would choose its life; sometimes pitiable, sometimes laughable at times wonderful and strange. For in most cases, the souls made their choice according to the habits of a former life.”

I couldn’t find where this was from, or if it was a quote from anything. But googling it does bring up Plato’s Allegory of The Cave, which I thinks tracks pretty well. I found a quote from this chapter of Plato’s The Republic, which is strikingly similar in meaning. For the sake of my sanity, lets assume that this quote is referencing this one from Plato:

“And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light into the cave.”

If you’re unfamiliar with the allegory of the cave, it’s a philosophical discussion from Plato’s The Republic. It’s about how human perception is limited, and so true knowledge comes from the self via philosophical reasoning. Much like humans imprisoned in a cave with only shadows as their entire world, we cannot imagine the true world outside the cave until we leave to see it for ourselves.  Those who are freed from this limited reasoning have a duty to go back and free others, subjecting them to the full experience of awakening; both the pain and the triumph it entails. V starts out with a limited perception of things; a surface-level world, never stopping to see the bigger picture, until Johnny comes along and encourages them to question the status quo. In all other endings, V accepts this enlightenment. They challenge Arasaka, and try to follow Johnny’s legacy and Stick It To the Man. Yet if they accept Hanako’s offer in an attempt to return to “the habits of a former life,” they are rejecting this new understanding, refusing to leave the cave and live in ignorant bliss. This, I believe, is where Johnny’s true feeling of betrayal comes from: not because he’s being shredded, and not because he thinks V doesn’t know any better. V learned and changed just as much as he did, and this growth was something they were able to gift to one another. Johnny is proud of his change, proud to be someone trusted by V, proud at a second chance not to fuck things up. When V gives him control to go with Rogue to Arasaka, he’s ecstatic to prove himself worthy of that trust, to prove that he’s changed. Yet V, the person who aided in that change, is now actively ignoring and rejecting their own growth, and thus is betraying themselves. By not using their enlightenment to actively oppose the status quo and rebel, they are choosing the side of the oppressor by default.

Some of her last words if you choose not to sign the contract are to Goro, “You have no idea how good it feels to be free.” But the truth is, V is not free, and now they will never be free. By walking the path they have, they are choosing willful ignorance, stubbornly clinging to the darkness of the cave because it is easier to convince oneself that they are not a prisoner at all than it is to leave the comfort of one’s chains. Either way, they are caged, even if the bars the rich and powerful build around her are clear instead of solid. Her so-called freedom (and knowledge) is pure illusion — shadows depicted on a cave wall.

[yeojaa]

( GHOST IN MY BED. )

Sometimes, hating someone is the only thing you can do.

pairing.  jjk x named f!reader.  a bit of jhs x named f!reader (but not really)?

genre + rating.   rockstar!au.  e2l (exes n enemies!).  general flangst?  anguf?  a blend of angst and fluff, tbh.  mainly angst tho.

tags / warnings.  sibling dynamics, introspective sadness, talk about not-so-healthy relationships (obviously), dumbass!jk, asshole!jk, jealous!jk, how many more jk tags can i add?, a silly reference to scott pilgrim.  nothing serious. 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ aka the loml!!!

wc.  3.1k

chapter four.

You and Yoongi don’t fight.  It’s always been a point of pride - something to look at and smile on. 

That must be why it feels so terrible now, with his knuckles blown white and enough rage to start a war simmering within his veins.  You’ve never seen him like this:  a world away from your soft Yoon, your best friend, your beloved brother.

“Yoongi, really--” 

“No.  Stop saying that.”  Despite the fact that you know his anger isn’t directed at you - that you’re the farthest target in his mind - it still hurts, like getting caught in friendly fire.  Pinpricks of guilt spill across your skin, nerve endings shot to hell by the way his mouth curls and tears, venom laced between his teeth and draped across his tongue.  “He came here and you didn’t tell me?  I told you - I’ll kill him.”

Hyperbole, you’re sure, but you can’t help the way your heart stutters.  A little oh no for a boy who doesn’t deserve it - whose silhouette still carves a spectacularly painful hole in your chest.

“I didn’t want you to worry--”  It’s not an excuse.  It’s not meant to be.  You never lie to Yoongi.  Frankly, you don’t think you could.  

“You’re my sister.”

It’s enough of a rebuttal that you’re reduced to silence.  He’s right.  You’re family;  family don’t keep secrets.

“I’m sorry,”  you try again, feeble and emphatic.  

There’s an unbearable distance between you - a sea’s worth of sadness that rocks the rickety boat you’ve built.  You can practically see it stretching on and on, sweeping you further and further from his safe shores.  It’s an awful feeling. 

“You’re my sister,”  he repeats, suddenly so tired you worry for him.  For once, he looks that much older than you, as if five years have forced passages of experience within his pages.  “You can’t hide things from me.  Who’s going to be there for you if not me?”  

You want to rebuff him - insist that you’re stronger than he gives you credit for - but you know it’s not what he means.  More than anyone, Yoongi believes in you.  He sees your strength even when you can’t see your own;  he’s been that strength more times than you can count.  

The reality of your situation isn’t lost on you.

He’s the only one who knows everything you’ve been through.  A diary in living breathing form, full of your most shameless secrets, your deepest worries, your worst heartbreaks.  

“I know.”  Apology threads each syllable, stitches them neatly to each other.  The sincerity is blinding, bright white and earnest.  “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”  

The smile he offers is rueful, twisting the edge of his mouth in a manner you’ve adopted over the years.  You return it without thought and then, all at once, the expanse is closed.  He’s laughing - a sound that doesn’t ring true in the way you know it should - but it’s a laugh and you know everything is okay.

“Still worried,”  he returns with a quiet sigh and flick of his wrist.

You’re with him in a breath, curled against his side on the couch you’d cried yourself to sleep on just days ago.  While you’re both far closer in size than you’ve ever been - you were always a tiny kid growing up, even against Yoongi’s own slim frame - it’s reminiscent of your childhood and being caught beneath haphazardly strewn sheets and disorganised chaos in the form of blanket forts.

Dry lips find a home against the side of your head, his arm dragging you to warmth.  “You’re an idiot, you know.”  He says it in the way only an older brother can - with all the frustration and love in the world.  

You do know, intimately well, how idiotic you are.  Have been.  Seemingly always will be.

“I know,”  you mumble, sad into the raised hood of your sweater.  “But I made him leave.”  It sounds like a child begging for praise - to be told they’ve done well.  You won’t deny you need it now.  

Good is the first thing Yoongi says, a little flippant and with a hard set of his jaw.  More comes when he catches your expression and the way the dent forms between your brows, the tiny pout of your lips.  It’s the same face you’ve made all your life - one that hits him right behind the ribs like a Whack-A-Mole game at the carnival.

“You did good, Vivi.  I’m proud of you.”  They’re bandages, sticky and adhesive on the stitches Jungkook’s visit had torn open.  “You’re great and he’s…”  There are words he’d like to use - a million scathing adjectives to paint the asshole in technicolour - but he knows better.  Knows you can’t take it, at least not right now.  “He doesn’t deserve you.  You get that, right?  You’re better off without him.”

You nod against his side but offer nothing further.  The silence speaks worrying volumes.

“You’re not going to answer him again, right?”  

Some half-mumbled non-committal response comes.  Yoongi wants to tear his own hair out.  Better yet, he wants to tear yours out.  Instead, he blows a long exhale through his nose, free hand coming to scrub across his face.  When will you learn?  

“I’m scared.”

It’s so quiet even you hardly hear it, ear tucked against the cotton of Yoongi’s flannel.  You think, for a moment, maybe he’s missed it too.  Then he squeezes you a little tighter:  a silent reassurance.

“Seeing him again just brings back so many memories.”  Every other word is muffled but it’s the most you can do.  Courage is carried quietly - too loud and you’ll shatter it.  “I thought three years would be enough.  It should be, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question;  Yoongi still debates answering it, just for his own sake.

“Maybe he’s changed.  Or maybe I’ve changed.  It could be different.”  It’s a clandestine belief and one you shouldn’t speak to life - especially to your brother.  It spills forth of its own accord, wrong for so many reasons but begging to be asked.  You have no control over it and the hope it sows somewhere within your chest.

“You can’t actually believe that.”  

It’s infinitely more scathing than Hoseok’s reaction, tearing out of Yoongi’s mouth like a bullet.  You can’t help the way you frown, brows drawn and lips pursed.  You’ve known Yoongi your whole life.  Reading between the lines feels like you’re fucking stupid but you know it’s not quite so harsh.  A frustrated you dumb idiot, maybe.

“Don’t make that face.”  

“I’m not making any face.”  

“Yes, you are.  It’s the same one you made when I embarrassed you on your first date.  Also the one you made after you threw up all over Hoseok’s shoes the first night you met him.”  The recollection doesn’t help your cause - you’re grimacing even more deeply, chagrin spilling into misery in the form of red hot heat over your cheeks.  “Don’t resent me for being realistic, Vivi.  You know he hasn’t changed.”

The silence is childish.  You know that.

“You can’t fix people.”

He arrives with flowers.  Two full bunches of your favourite blooms - pretty peonies in shades of coral and lavender.  They’re heavy in his arms, held so gingerly it’s almost comical as he extracts himself from the vehicle he most definitely should not be driving.  He wonders whether you’ll be home - if he’ll get to see your expression when he presents them to you.  He hopes you’ll light up, brighter than the sun in the sky and better than any nightlight.  

What he doesn’t expect is someone walking up the sidewalk, gym bag slung across his shoulder like he’s getting ready to settle in for a long night.  Short - atleast a few inches shorter than himself - with a stupid face that makes Jungkook want to punch it.  Dumb shoes, too.  Who the fuck wears Off-White Jordan 1s in that colourway?

There’s a permanent scowl etched across his face as he watches from behind the tinted comfort of his car, single hand caught around the edge of the door.  He’s vaguely aware of the fact that he’s perhaps crushing the stems cradled in his arms, inked knuckles blown white around quickly crumpling brown paper.

Maybe he’s your neighbour.  Or maybe he’s going to the other house or maybe—

No, he’s definitely walking right up the front path.

The words are out before Jungkook can stop them, shouted into the quiet afternoon more loudly than he anticipates.  “Hey!”

Dumbass with the face turns, full of surprise and wandering eyes.  He hesitates halfway up your stoop, looking stupider than ever as he looks around for the source of the voice.  

Then his stare falls on the brunet with his hands full and it’s like a flip has switched - mouth hardening into a line that raises the hairs on the back of Jungkook’s neck.  He’s glaring at him (or something close to it).  

Seriously - who is this fucker?

“Can I help you?”  Hoseok speaks far more reasonably, at an octave that doesn’t shatter the peace of the residential neighbourhood.  He’s still caught on the steps, fist tight around the strap of his bag as he studies the man - no, boy - that jogs up to meet him, two rungs the only thing separating the two of them.

“Do you know Vira?”

A part of Hoseok flinches at Jungkook’s casual use of your name - like he knows you or deserves to address you like an old friend.  This kid really was clueless.

When he speaks, he’s perfectly composed, tension held tight behind his teeth.  “I said, can I help you?”

Jungkook bristles at the response, some snarky comment threatening to knock the other off his apparent high horse.  He barely catches it, grinding it down into a fine powder beneath his molars.  He has to tread lightly here. 

“I’m a friend of hers.”  Not a lie, per se.  You two were friends;  after all, you’d come when he’d called.  That meant something, right?  Had to. 

“A friend?”  Disbelief slips into place, evident in the tone of Hoseok’s voice, how his brows shift beneath his chestnut fringe.  He knows better than to believe Jungkook - has heard all the heartbreaking stories - but he can’t quite keep the worry from worming it’s way into his thoughts.  They settle uncomfortably, just beneath the surface. “Is she expecting you?”

Everything about Hoseok makes Jungkook hate him.  From the sneakers he wears to the watch on his wrist - understated, all gold, more expensive than a nerd like him should have - there’s something undoubtedly punchable about him.

It certainly has nothing to do with the fact that he’s seemingly close with you.  Definitely not.

“I was going to surprise her.”  The flowers are held aloft, gesticulated in the best manner Jungkook can manage with his arms so full.  “I didn’t know she was expecting you.”  It’s a cheap tactic - recycling words - but he can’t think of much else beyond fitting his foot into this guy’s mouth.

“She’s not.”  Sharp, sparse, with no hint of indulgence.  Hoseok’s not about to get into a verbal sparring match with Jungkook.  It’s not worth his time.  

He is, however, going to put him in his place - and easily at that.

“She’s still at work.”  Slim bundle of keys rise - two unassuming and one for an Audi.  Perhaps unnecessary but Hoseok takes great pleasure in the other’s expression.

Tch is Jungkook’s first thought before the second smacks him straight in the face.  He has a key to your place?  The fact rubs him all the wrong ways despite the fact that he has no right to be bothered;  it isn’t his home any more - hasn’t been in years.  It still hurts, though, right behind his ribs and all the way down to the tips of his fingers.

Is this how you felt all those times?  

Something like nausea builds in Jungkook’s stomach, throwing acid up the walls of his throat.  It burns and strings, licking painfully all the way into his mouth.  His teeth ache - buzz uncomfortably - and his tongue feels suddenly far too heavy.  He wonders if he might choke on it.

Then, slowly, in a voice he doesn’t recognise.  Too soft, years younger, uncertain.  “Can you give these to her?”  He hates it.

He hates even more the way Hosoek looks at him, with such pity Jungkook wants to curl it around his fist and break the older man’s teeth with it.  It’s something he’s seen a handful of times - from you, from your brother, from his worried mother when she thinks he doesn’t notice.  It never gets easier. 

It forces him into a position he hasn’t been in in years:  weak.

“I don’t think so.”  By how calmly Hoseok speaks, it’s almost as if he’s commenting on the weather or passing along a banal bit of information.  It’s far too nonchalant to be breaking Jungkook’s heart, splitting it cleanly in two.

“Why not?”  Jungkook’s petulant, a child denied his favourite toy, forced into time-out.  

That’s not for you screams Hoseok’s expression.  She’s not for you.  “I’m not comfortable with doing so.”  

The sinking feeling hasn’t stopped for Jungkook.  It goes and goes until he wishes he were six feet under, buried under ground as low as he feels.  He should leave.  He knows he should leave - if only to stop the discomfort that’s gripping every nerve, twisting them like an elbow about to snap.  

“Anyway.”  There’s boredom working its way into Hoseok’s stare, relaxing the shape of his mouth until it falls wide around a short, terse sigh.  “If you’re friends, you can get in touch and drop them off later.”  

He’s done playing gatekeeper - can feel his frustration bubbling to the surface in a way he’s not about to entertain.  He nods once, dismissive, before turning away from the so-called rockstar that seems terribly small and the farthest thing from it.

“Goodbye.”  Then he’s disappearing into your home, leaving Jungkook on the steps with his tail between his legs.

You return home three hours later - blissfully unaware of what’s transpired.  

You set your dinner on the kitchen island, deftly unpacking takeout boxes as Hoseok hurries to your side to help.  You don’t mind when he bumps into you, knocking his hip against yours with a heart-shaped smile.

It burns a little brighter than usual.  “Good day?”  

He hums in response, sneaking a yellow tomato from the salad box he’s just popped open.  “Something like that.” 

“Something like that?”  You can’t help but echo him, a pretty parrot with shining eyes and a silk bow in your hair.  “Don’t play coy, Jung Hoseok.”  A digit closes the minimal distance between you, finding purchase against his side - right where he’s most ticklish.

He shrieks, nearly upending the fries he’s tried to dump onto a ceramic plate.

“Hey!”  Hands swat, then fold, catching your fingers between his in an awkward hand-hold.  “Keep your hands to yourself, Vi.” 

“You don’t complain normally,”  you retort.  You’re not wrong.  Skinship with you is one of his favourite things, fourth only to his dog, dancing, and a certain green-labelled soda.

“Well, today’s a special day.”  

Hoseok really doesn’t know where he’s going with his words - only hoping that he’ll find their destination somewhere along the way.  He doesn’t want to tell you too soon, all too aware of how the mention of your ex will bring this perfect moment crumbling down.  He wants to hold it, perhaps a little too tightly, for as long as he can.  He thinks he’s doing you a service, giving you these few extra minutes.

“Oh yeah?”  You’re twinkling eyes and pealing laughter, so far removed from the bag of bones and sadness of only days prior.  It’s hard to believe there’s something broken inside of there - tucked right behind your breastplate and out of sight.

“Yeah.”  

You wait for him to continue, opting instead to fill the silence with mouth noises.  He’ll tell you when he’s ready.  He always does.  

“Jungkook came by.”  It comes halfway through a bite of a french fry, the carb nearly bringing you to an early death when you choke on it.  All at once, everything spins, as if just the name is enough to upend your entire world.  Hoseok’s clapping your back, rubbing soothing circles over the cotton of your shirt, and you’re struggling to find words or breath - heaving around the sudden heaviness.

“What?”  So small, it’s hardly a word.

“He was here when I got here.”  You’re not oblivious to the careful way he speaks, choosing his words with utmost care.  You don’t miss his grip either, gentle and unyielding at your side - as if he might steady you beneath the sudden tidal wave of emotion.  

You do well, keeping your voice level once you’ve found it again.  “And?  What did he want?”

Hoseok does you the great service of pretending as if he doesn’t hear the hope in your voice.  You’re grateful for that. 

“He came with flowers.”  Not quite a laugh comes - more unimpressed and derisive than amused.  “Two bouquets, actually.”  You can feel him studying you from your periphery, his careful stare trained on your face and the dozen emotions that run rampant through it.  “Your favourite flowers too.”

Your laugh matches his own, though far heavier, as if the sound won’t form without immense effort.  “Wow.”

“Yeah.”  It’s a word you’ve heard a lot tonight.  It feels right.  One syllable to encompass every feeling you can’t properly articulate.  “He asked me to give them to you.”  

It should surprise you but it doesn’t.  Jungkook’s never been one to ask - instead taking what he wants - but it’s still funny.  Of course he’d ask that of Hoseok, as if the act itself weren’t terribly strange, the flowers an unwelcome, begging apology.  Jeon Jungkook only did what he wanted - etiquette be damned.

“I don’t see them anywhere.”  

“I told him I wasn’t comfortable doing it.”  There’s a touch of pride, glimmering gold painted over consonants and vowels.  It’s understated in the way that Hoseok always is - not how he looks, but is;  you’re drawn to it nonetheless, squeezing your fingers around his own in a silent thank you.

“I hope it wasn’t weird.”  It must have been.  It’s still the thought that counts.

Hoseok hams it up, scoffing like it’s just been another day.  “Weird?  Of course not.  I have to deal with my friend’s horrible exes all the time.  I’m practically Scott Pilgrim.”  

“Does that make me Ramona Flowers?”  

“No - but you’re my flower.”  He says it in jest, only to make you smile, because he knows you need it right now.

You try not to think of how you prefer Pumpkin, instead.

tag list.  @jalexad @aa-ronpa @kookiesbreaky @celestialflamefairy @xjoonchildx @pars-ley @seokjinssi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @patpus @dazedjjk @koozui @jinhitwhore @always-wishing-for-rain @neverthefirstchoice @snackhobi