#WHICH MAKES THIS WHOLE THING EVEN WORSE FOR ME

[starshinedreamer]

Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[howspiitaldoll]

How i water fasted for 10 days straight in january ୨ৎ .ᐣ

1. The most important thing was, that i really had a serious goal to reach. I was extremely motivated, especially cause i had to look my best for a special day, so there was a date set, and i knew that i would be disappointed if i messed up.

2. I didn't jump straight into a fast. I slowly took -100 cals from my intake, adjusting my body slowly, this way it wasn't that much of a shock for it.

3. I drank a lot of water, and when i say a lot i mean i prepared a big cup with ice and sipped everytime i felt worse or hungry.

4. I slept good and long ��� Sleep is and will always be the best way to skip time. Everytime i would feel demotivated, even a little bit, i would get under my covers and take a nap. It also made me feel better during the day if i got good sleep.

5. One of the days i couldn't stand not tasting anything, so i got a zero sugar energy drink that was 2 cals for the whole thing, and i immediately felt better and felt like i could keep going.

6. I used a lot of distractions, the ones that always work for me. I really chose things that took time, so it was passing without me realising it. I played lots of games, watched shows, spent hours on pinterest or tiktok, called or texted my friends, made vision boards, did online shopping, and more!

7. I avoided two things - exercising and weighing myself. I always want to exercise bcuz i feel like im not doing enough, but for 10 days i decided to not do it to not make myself too weak. Instead i just moved around, cleaned my room or the house, took a short walk. I avoided weighing myself too much, bcuz it became a little demotivating, and i wanted to see the ultimate result at the end. (it was a nice suprise)

8. I used one of my fav things to do, i brushed my teeth to keep that minty feeling in my mouth, then put a lip product on my lips, when i do this it makes me not want to put anything in my mouth to not ruin the feeling.

9. I motivated myself everyday, with whatever i could. I looked at my saved photos, searched for motivation on tiktok and tumblr, i opened my notes and wrote all the reasons why i want it to work.

10. I kept writing in my diary, which allowed me to express all of my emotions there, when i didn't want to post some of the thoughts or share it with anyone, i just wanted to let it out somewhere. (my diary listened very well)

11. If i really needed the feeling of actually chewing smth, i made and crushed ice cubes and kept biting on them.

12. I avoided drinking energy drinks (even though i did drink one that one day), i know most of us here love the zero ones, including me, but i really didn't want to make myself shaky.

[fear-is-truth]

EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE

— KAI ANDERSON x f!reader

warnings — voyeurism ‧ kai being a perv ‧ very suggestive ‧ MDNI 18+ jackie’s note — tried a different writing style since it’s mostly conversation. hope it’s in character….

“you should change your brand of deodorant.”

the sentence is so mundane it barely registers. you stab at your food, half-listening.

“what?”

“that shit is cancerous,” kai states mildly. he chews thoughtfully. swallows. “you don’t want breast cancer, do you? you wouldn’t be able to breastfeed our baby if you did.”

your fork pauses mid-air. you blink.

“our what?” kai looks at you then, tipping his head, like you’re the one saying something strange. “hypothetically,” he says, waving a dismissive hand. “future tense.”

your stomach twists—not at the words themselves, but at the way he says them. easy. certain. like the thought of you nursing his child is already set in stone. he’s just being practical.

“how do you know what deodorant i use?”

he shrugs. “i pay attention.”

—

you find it that night.

tucked neatly into the corner of your room, angled to catch everything.

a tiny black lens, reflecting the light when you lean in.

you go still. then cold.

you rip it from the wall

—

you storm into his room, shoving the camera in his face.

“the fuck is this, kai?”

he barely glances up from his laptop before looking back down.

“looks like a camera.”

“no fucking shit. why was it in my room?”

his fingers tap against the keyboard. “do i really need to explain that to you?”

his calmness makes it worse. you want him to panic. you want him to lie, at least—pretend this isn’t what it is.

“so i can keep an eye on you.”

“keep an—” you cut yourself off, staring at him. “you are actually insane.”

he hums, noncommittal. “or just prepared.”

“you had no right—”

“relax.”

kai leans back in his chair, stretching, exhaling through his nose like he’s already bored of this conversation.

“it’s not like you haven’t enjoyed the attention.”

“i haven’t enjoyed anything about you spying on me—you’re insane!”

“am i? or are you just mad that i know all the dirty things you do when you think no one’s watching?”

he smiles. fingers drum against the desk.

“oh yeah. i’ve seen what you get up to at night.“

heat creeps up your neck. your skin prickles.

“laying there all quiet, thinking no one’s watching. but you can’t keep still, can you?” he tilts his head, eyes glinting. “legs rubbing together, then that hand slipping under the sheets, moving so fucking slow. teasing yourself. getting frustrated. biting your lip, trying so hard not to make a sound.”

your jaw clenches. you want to hit him.

“you always break, though.” he licks his lips. “always start panting real soft, hips rocking up, so so desperate. and when you finally get there? god.” he exhales, shaking his head, like he’s actually impressed. “you’re so fucking pretty when you cum.”

you feel sick. his voice, the easy, clinical way he’s talking about it, about you. like he’s narrating some goddamn documentary.

“you make these little whimpering sounds—” his head tips back against the chair, lashes fluttering. “like you’re not even fully aware you’re doing it.”

you want to fucking kill that bastard.

kai watches you, taking in the way you shift on your feet like you don’t know whether to run or swing at him.

“it’s kinda hot, actually.” he grins. “you getting all embarrassed, knowing i’ve been watching this whole time. getting off to you getting off.”

he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flicking over you, hungry. “wanna know how many times i came to it?”

“shut the fuck up.”

“nah, i think you wanna know.”

he leans in, resting his elbows on his knees, watching you like he’s daring you to react.

“i could tell you exactly which night you got yourself off the hardest.” his voice is lower now, almost thoughtful. “you remember it? probably not. but i do.”

he tilts his head, mock-thoughtful. “i could show you the footage if you need a refresher.”

your skin is burning. rage, shame, horror—twisting together, churning in your gut. kai watches your reaction closely, his smile widening like he’s savouring every sweet second of your humiliation.

“you kept whining into your pillow, i heard you say my name, too.” he huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. “so desperate, so fucking needy. you came twice. back to back. shit was crazy.” he spreads his hands, like he’s telling an interesting story. “could’ve busted right there just watching. actually, i did.”

you lunge before you can stop yourself, shoving him, hard. the chair skids back.

kai just laughs.

“god, you’re fun.”

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

i was lost within the darkness but then i found her; i found you. - k. yukimiya

synopsis: a man who couldn’t find purpose in his life and the woman who brought each of them meaning.

a/n: i was lowkey thinking of meruem and komugi the whole time i was making this.

yukimiya kenyu

yukimiya didn’t know what he was supposed to do now.

he clutched the papers from the doctor, walking to the nurse’s office at school for the information to be added to his profile at school. he walked with no emotion upon his usually jubilant and beautiful face, and it was as if all of the light had been sucked from his eyes.

“yukimiya?”

yukimiya looked up, and you stood in front of him, holding a few boxes in your hands. you were probably helping your teacher with moving things again.

yukimiya was fairly fond of you. you were kind and quick on your feet, and yet you always gave helpful, honest advice to your more delusional friends. he enjoyed being around you more than anything else at school. “oh, hello. how’s your day been going?” yukimiya asked, painting a smile over his frown on his face.

your eyebrows knit together. yukimiya recognized that look; his mother always had that look in his childhood whenever he had been crying and hid the fact from her. she always caught on quickly. “you seem upset, are you okay?” you placed your boxes on the floor next to you before walking closer to him, your head tilting slightly as you looked at him.

and as if water began overflowing in a glass after barely having not reach the point of spilling yet, tears began to spill from yukimiya’s eyes.

fat, warm tears stained yukimiya’s cheeks wet, and snot began leaking from his nose. if any of yukimiya’s fans had seen him like this, his modeling career and their crush on him would be over. but instead of looking at him with your face scrunched up in disgust from his current expression, you instead had him sit down with his back to the wall as you sat down next to him.

“what happened?” you asked, your voice soft. you assumed that it had to do with his eye and soccer career; after all, he got glasses even though he didn’t have them previously, and soccer was practically his whole life. yukimiya sniffled before looking at you.

“optic neuropathy,” yukimiya whispered. “there are black spots in my vision. treatment will help, but not fully cure it. worse case scenario, it causes blindness. the doctor said that i probably won’t be able to play soccer professionally anymore.” yukimiya sniffled again before he wiped his tears away, laughing.

“look at me. complaining to you about it even though it’s not even your problem. you should be helping the teacher, right? sorry, i know this is your free period and im not a very crier—“ before he could continue on with his idiocy, you grabbed his face in between both of your hands and faced him, your eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed.

“yukimiya kenyu,” you began, voice grave. your face darkened before your gentle cradle on his face turned into a stinging pinch. “first of all, i could care less about this being my free period. we still have months of school left, and that means hundreds of more free periods. second, no one cares that you’re an ugly crier! everyone ugly as shit when they’re sobbing and their face is all scrunched up when they’re bawling. you should’ve seen me when i read the chapter that gojo died!”

at your last comment, you could see yukimiya hold in a chuckle, which proved your effort worthy. “and also, maybe you won’t become the best forward in the world. maybe you really will become blind because of soccer. maybe all of your efforts wouldn’t have been worth it in the end. but yukimiya, i hope you know and realize that the result may be important, but…” you stopped your pinching, and you held his face as if you were holding the most precious and beautiful glass vase. “sometimes the joy of the process itself overshadows what was thought to be the joy that comes from the result.”

yukimiya’s eyes widened, and suddenly, a fresh batch of tears came to his eyes. but this time, it wasn’t of sadness. this time, warmth bloomed in his chest when the tears came. this time, his mind was clear of the negative thoughts when the tears came. and this time, instead of his vision being blurred by tears, his vision was being cleansed by the light right in front of him: you.

[ballerinarina]

naruto is actually a very bad written story that wants to show us that war isn't good only by creating characters with very sad stories sticks in this cycle of violence.

and i don't say bad written because of any technical aspect, no. it's because it's a purely political story with shallow views of politics. centric ones in the middle of such a radical context of governmental genocides and children being the military force.

the main character bases one of his main will of lifes about being a political leader, a politician, but he — which has always been in some way an opposition to the government, really being the only one supporting the pain of victims by truly listening and validating then — doesn't really mature his point of view.

it's childish. they want us to believe that simply choosing a better anti-war leader will solve the problems of a fascist system when it won't ever. a system revolution will.

(because, yes, that's what konoha is: a state which has been founded above the exclusion of a people, pruning their social powers accusing and pressing to a boiling social situation to the point where they erase every living drop of their blood. that's fascism.)

but we all know that's not what we have in naruto. they created very well the extreme product of their own fascism: sasuke. a child so broke he ends up a violent revolutionary.

and don't tell me that sasuke is not a revolutionary: he is. he makes it very clear in the end valley that his goal became to completely modify how the hokage system works, sacrificing his own happiness so that the rotten way the system worked would change.

i'm not saying he had a brilliant plan or was totally right. again, he was a kid, a very messed one who went down bad paths of terrorism before. but again, this is the consequence of actions and if anyone has to be held accountable it is konoha. fascism has consequences like this.

but what i'm saying is: naruto, who was slightly more sane, who questioned his whole life about konoha and being a hokage, ends up not learning that the problem was the system. the feudal military system remains even after danzou's death and the cleanse of the conseul seniors, the tobirama's ones.

sasuke ends up being “excused”, but never received real excuses or change. he was destroyed to the point where he was so mentally bad and suicidal that he gave up his revolution, even if he always had strong morals.

what changes has konoha had? a statue of itachi? big thing. what has improved in sasuke's life? sasuke spent his adult life working for redemption for a village that destroyed everyone he loved, everything he had and everything he was. he lost his babybirl growing up because of this.

besides, when i watched that robin hood boruto arch i was even more disappointed. in a unfair system, a discussion about taking from richs to give to the poors begins. everything socially indicates it's the most moral thing to do in this unmoral situation, when we literally have this multimilionaire company of a bad guy in konoha. until suddenly they reveal the leaders of the robbers were wicked.

when we have a too complex political trama in the hands of a poorly political person, we end up with a childish (which is different than for children), too optimistic and right center fake-progressist work.

then, for no reason, all the morality created (and reforced by naruto's words, actions and positions in this conflict, as the hokage) stabilizes and becomes the morality “both sides are wrong!” as if socially they were equivalent situations. they are not: one arises as a result of the other, as a response to survive. peace isn't the answer!

i deeply love the naruto characters and i love how some of the lore is created. i could talk for hours about other points that i consider just as serious and adult as this one. and that's why i'm so sad. and i understand that it is a children's story, but that only makes it worse because it is poorly written: they don't know how to write such a complex lore for children, or they don't have the balls to write such a heavy and adult lore for young people and adults.

that's why i hate naruto. it really makes me sad.

naruto isn't about who's morally right or wrong, it's about who's your favourite child soldier perpetuating the cycle of violence

[vellazx]

Reincarnated!Roger Luffy x Reincarnated!Rouge Reader — a small drabble of mine!

It was hard working for the Navy, whenever the man whom you adored so dearly was bound to be your enemy for life.

How it happened? It was a long story… And you couldn’t quite put it all into words.

It started two years ago, all the way back in Alabasta, when you were sent out for a job with your coworker, Smoker.

The two of you could be considered as ‘friends’. He rambled to you the whole way there about a wanted pirate who went by the name of ‘Straw Hat Luffy’, at the time bearing a 30 million Berry bounty.

He was just a rookie. It would be easy for someone of your rank to take him down. You were respected by even the three Admirals themselves, probably only a level below them in terms of power.

So why was it that when you did come face to face with him, the two of you just locked eyes, as if entranced by each other.

Your heart skipped a beat in that very moment. And for some reason, he smiled at you, making your sudden jittery behavior and nervousness a thousand times worse.

You were so ashamed of yourself. You allowed him to simply run past you with that toothy grin of his, beaming with confidence and recklessness.

Smoker didn’t let you off lightly after watching that scene. But you didn’t argue against him, no. You fully believed you deserved it.

But why did that happen in the first place? He was a pirate, and you didn’t take yourself as the type to fall in love at first sight. You’ve never done that.

You couldn’t continue to help Smoker and the swordswoman always by his side, Tashigi, in capturing the Straw Hats. Especially their captain.

It was like your body acted on its own, forcing you to leave. After that encounter, you endured a mental crisis for nearly an entire month.

He just felt so… familiar. It unsettled you.

Why did it feel like you had met him before?

After Alabasta, you somehow ended getting tied up in his daily pirate schemes, as if you just couldn’t escape him.

Sabaody Archipelago, the Navy Headquarters, Punk Hazard… You could name even more times that you’ve met with him in abnormal circumstances.

And every time you fought him, every accidental brush of hands that made your cheeks heat up, your feelings got worse, and worse, and worse…

Why him?

Of all people, why him?

To make things worse, you could feel yourself… distancing from your duty. Your job. Like he was influencing you.

You started thinking weird things, strange things.

‘The World Government? I don’t trust them.’

You didn’t trust them? Yes you did. They wanted justice for the world, and you did, too.

‘They’re corrupted.’

No they aren’t.

‘In the name of justice? Don’t make me laugh. They don’t care about justice… They only want power.’

It was like there was a second voice in your head. An alter ego, almost…

All the while, in the midst of those thoughts… Your mind always reeled back to him. His stupid face that made your heart flutter. That smile of his, that was so infectious you couldn’t help but return a smile, which you didn’t realize most of the time.

He would point it out mid-fight, too.

“Hey, you’re smiling!”

“You’re seeing things, Straw Hat!”

You also couldn’t help but realize that during your meaningless duels, all his attention would be solely on you. Of course, when fighting someone, that was normal. But the way he looked at you… Did enemies look at each other like that?

His eyes shone, full of adoration. He always smiled at you, even if you wanted him to take you seriously. He didn’t gaze at you like he did his other opponents. He always stared them down with anger, or irritation.

He hardly knew anything about you, other than how well you fought when you clashed on the battlefield. But at the same time, he felt like he knew everything about you.

It took you by surprise one day, when he opened up his own confusion to you.

“It feels like I’ve met you before. Before Vivi’s country!”

Before Alabasta? That was where you first met two years ago.

And he was saying that he felt like he knew you before your meeting in the country?

“You must be crazy, Straw Hat…”

You said that, but you felt the same. And… he said he felt the same. You would’ve never expected him to be on the road of confusion, as you were.

You hated to admit it, but Straw Hat Luffy was the center of your thoughts ever since your first meeting. He indirectly influenced you, resulting in you slowly developing a distasteful attitude toward the World Government and all your coworkers.

He’s never even said anything to you about hating the World Government, yet your thoughts of him were changing you.

For better, or for worse? You had no idea.

It was impossible for you to deny the way your eyes softened, and the way your muscles became less tense when he was around.

In battle, you’d have to be the one to fight him if you were present. No one else. Not even if an Admiral offered to assist you in taking him down.

Because for some reason… For some odd, odd reason…

…You were paranoid that they’d be able to defeat him, and he’d die on an execution platform, leaving you alone with your feelings until your own death.

Why did it feel like… that’s already happened before?

You couldn’t let it happen again.

[thoughtfultyrantlove]

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. [part of this fic]

ever since the two of you returned from the gion matsuri—with a new love bloomed in an indian summer—gojo satoru has become the talk of your town.

who's that handsome man patrolling around the corner?

i swear, my lady, i just want to meet with him for—uh—some fighting sessions... yes! that's it.

(...)

sister, any chance you can set me up with him?

(you almost yelled at the poor girl before nana dragged you back into the home.)

yes, you get it; handsome face drinking in every ounce of sunlight, the rippled body hiding underneath his haori that leaves nothing to imagination. combined with the softest of smiles—a dazzling diamond; most expensive of them all in the whole of the bazaar—yes, you know.

it's satoru, what did you expect?

and it makes you feel all the more worse.

beacuse there's not a single day gone by where satoru doesn't remind you of how you meant to him, that all of which that constitutes him—everything that is gojo satoru— already had your name engraved on them, signed yours the moment he caught you peeking from behind those excuse of a blinds.

(he would write it himself if you ever asked him to.)

everything, absolutely everything: his belongings? all yours, sweetness. miss him? a whisper of your longing and be ready to be carried back to your quaters as he pays no mind to the ever growing stack of his tasks.

but most importantly, his love? only for you, darling, only for you.

(a heavy breath whispered between flashes of pleasure during moonless nights as he craddles you close to his heart.)

then why?

the question lingers; a new friend you don't know how to greet.

why does your chest feel so tight all of a sudden? it asks, but you don't have any answer.

hidden away from the fronts of your minka ignoring an agitated feeling pricking at your nerves, you stand in your courtyard—the usual whirlwind of sakura petals and brine water swirling around you; silently watching the scene unfolding—with your kitty in your hands. and satoru... well, he certainly looks like he's over the moon.

smushed in a horde of females—teens just returning from the school with a bunch of middle aged aunties who can't help but froth at the sight of a much younger man; you don't mind them, that much. but the much prettier and much younger faces in the crowd stand apart, almost glowing.

sakura paints their cheeks while long eyelashes flutter ever so slightly as satoru laughs—and you almost do too. it's overbearing: the obnoxiously high giggles and whatnot. can't they just stop? it's so painfully obvious at this point.

though your eye almost bulges out, the moment one of their hands run across his biceps, feeling and squeezing, and—

shriek!

your cat yells loudly, immediately fleeing from your not so safe embrace. (sorry, yumi!) its loud noises reach the group just outside your courtyard—your eyes meets satoru's.

you look away, and he smiles, cerulean eyes hypotized by you and only you.

satoru immediately excuses himself—loud exasperated sighs following his leave.

good riddance.

“how are you, my love?”

ridiculously broad frame settles in front of you, wood creaks, and birds fly. satoru smiles at you, pearly whites gimmering ever so gently—the sincere one reserved just for you.

even though nectar fills in your mouth, your lips remain shut, moulded into a thin line—not giving him the pleasure of hearing you speak.

(but it's not his fault.)

satoru blinks—confusion seeping into his handome features—as he leans forward, head supported by his palms. he repeats: “how are you?”

he's only met with a loud huff, and a whine almost escapes his throat. your eyes move from the leaves decorating the bushes, to the koi dancing in the pond all the way to the honey dipped sky; anywhere except his awaiting ones—depraving him of yet another thing he loved about you.

“what's the matter, darling?” a soothing reassurance guided by his gentle caress on your knuckles as he takes your delicate hands in his scarred ones; you almost give in.

almost.

“oh?” lacking breath as something growls inside you, it's the only thing you can manage amidst the spiraling of your rationale—a thirst in your throat that can't be quenched even with the ambrosia itself, “why don't you ask yourself that?”

you exclaim, dazed eyes flickering between the front gates before fleeing back to the falling pink petals.

so that's what it's about.

satoru smirks—a little curve arcing his lips—enough to crack through your stubborn walls. you watch from your peripheral as he glances back at the minka's gate—yes, some of the ladies are still here, squealing in joy as satoru waves at them.

this bastard—

and on cue, an unknown force pulls on you, and you crash against him—softness trampling under his sturdy frame. shock paints your face as you turn to look at him. he's still smirking—a teasing glint shining in his eyes.

“satoru!” you gasp out as large hands travel under your robe, hot skin picking up underneath his naturally icy palms. “w—what are you doing—”

silenced.

effectively so by the push of his soft lips on yours. satoru urges you to kiss him back, a gentle pinch on your back finalized with the tugging on your bottom lips, and you do. your mouth agape as he explores your caravans—desperately licking all over your palate—painting something of an apology you understand immediately.

oh satoru...

you whisper his name, spit-slicked lips curling against his, and he whispers yours back before his claim yours again—sucking with such reverence that even the sakura petals shy away from the two of you.

long forgetten are the ladies from before—you don't know when they ran away, and you don't care at all because the little itch in the back of your head is soothed at last.

curses satoru, curses.

a/n→ i need him so bad...

[manuellarts]

i have FINALLY found a picture to illustrate what i mean when i say that deidara's design is a direct contrast to what he really is

this picture of misa had always creeped me out and i always found it off-putting because of how dead and empty her eyes are despite the smile on her face, and although she looks sweet in appearance, that's not all there is to her

and the very same thing can be said about deidara: although his looks may point at a regular guy and even hold a certain innocence, his eyes tell a whole different story

i was always mesmerized by the contrasts and paradoxes of his being . . one only needs to take a good look at what he calls "art" to really get a glimpse of how twisted his mind is

yes, he is very expressive and his emotions very explosive . . but there is still a massive emptiness behind it all

an emptiness that is constantly and continuously filled by strong emotions, danger, thrill etc . . which he also wants to be mirrored by the people around him, especially as they witness his art

he seeks strong emotions to his art, awe, fear, terror . . all which reinforces his own vision of things, and that i suppose is the reason why the indifference and complete lack of reaction from sasuke and itachi get to him so badly

indifference to his art is what's off-putting and deeply disturbing to him, it makes me think of how, even at the cost of his own life, what he sought to do was to cause fear and awe in sasuke—he did not care to figure a more strategic plan any longer, nor to save his life.. he wanted his art to triumph

his entire personality is defined by him being an artist, his art which he calls "true art" consisting of absolute brutality .. not only is his art fearsome, but he as a person, is actually terrifying

and he was only 19 . . i wonder how worse it would've gotten if he had lived any longer . .

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; “Cassie has a sexuality crisis, Kon has a gender one, and Circe makes everything worse”. tw: internalized homophobia, unintentional misgendering of a closeted character. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

This mission sucks in a lot of ways, the least of which is trying not to make eye contact with Tim during any of it, which the whole “being stuck in a small room with someone wearing a mask with opaque white lenses” thing makes way, way harder than it has to be, in Cassie’s opinion. 

“You do realize that blatantly projecting anxiety in every single conversation and constantly overcorrecting your behavior to try not to hurt Superboy’s feelings will upset him worse, right?” Tim says, which is another way this mission sucks. 

Stupid Bat-psych profiles.

“This seems like a conversation to have while we’re not breaking and entering for justice,” Cassie says to the door she’s watching for intruders, her arms folded and eyes locked on the doorframe. She wasn’t even weird this time, dammit. Like–not loudly weird, anyway. 

“Well, I tried to get you alone for it four times already and you dodged all four attempts with noticeably not-thin excuses, which means you’ve definitely been planning ahead to do said dodging, as opposed to actually just being busy,” Tim says. 

Dammit, Cassie thinks, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. 

“You are literally his best friend,” she says as evenly as she can, digging her fingers just a little tiny maybe-kinda-bruising bit into her arms.

“I’m your friend too,” Tim says. 

Stupid Bats. 

“When I went to Themyscira last month I met a girl that reminded me of Superboy without realizing that she reminded me of him until after I’d already screwed her,” she snaps flatly. “And yes, specifically all the things about her that reminded me of him were the things about her that I was attracted to, except because she had a huge rack and a big fat launched-ten-thousand-ships ass that her barely-tied peplos barely covered, well, this time those things actually turned me on. So also-yes, I am the worst and I am going to keep feeling like shit about this, thanks for asking.” 

“I didn’t even know I liked guys until I ran into you-know-who again,” Tim says. “Genuinely did not realize it was a thing, despite definitely having had a weird obsession with what, in retrospect, is a truly embarrassing amount of dudes for a straight guy to be weirdly obsessed with.” 

“Is this about Nightwing’s V-neck era?” Cassie assumes. 

“I mean I think I actually was crushing on him when I was, like, a literal toddler, which was much earlier than that, and also I was probably a little bit too interested in literally everything Robin 2.0 ever did in his career ever,” Tim says. “And, like, the time Red Hood beat my face in while wearing Robin’s colors was an interesting experience that I learned absolutely nothing about myself from.” 

“Um,” Cassie says. 

“Also I wasn’t trying to clone Spoiler in the basement,” Tim adds, half-tilting his head.  

Cassie . . . blinks. 

“What?” she says. Tim’s currently occupied with whatever he’s doing to the terminal, apparently, so just shrugs without looking up at her. 

“Ninety-nine times really does not seem like a platonic amount of times to try to bring someone back to life, I think,” he says. “Like, platonic cloning probably only covers about the first fifty attempts, max.” 

“Robin, I would believe your insane abandonment issues would try to clone literally anyone you were even passingly fond of ninety-nine times minimum,” Cassie says blankly, trying to . . . process that, kind of. Is that–like, that was not a subtle thing, what Tim just said. 

“I mean, I thought about it a few times,” Tim replies with another shrug. “But I only did it the once.” 

“. . . ‘the once’ times ninety-nine, you mean,” Cassie says, and Tim smiles wryly and finally spares her another glance. 

“That, yeah,” he says. “And I built an entire illegal cloning lab, memorized literally every single detail of the night I met the original Robin before the violent trauma happened, stole a codename and costume from the subsequent Robin not once but twice, and still genuinely just assumed I was straight ‘til a dude who I knew for less than six months in high school showed up out of nowhere and actually, you know, directly asked me about it.” 

“World’s second-greatest detective, huh,” Cassie says, then has to repress a grimace, because–well, that’s the joke Kon always makes, obviously. 

“I mean you don’t have to have your whole identity figured out from day one,” Tim says. “Superboy definitely understands that, if anyone does. All of us do. Impulse tried to make himself be Kid Flash and hated it, I assumed things about myself instead of actually thinking about myself, Secret was afraid enough of herself to end up becoming a supervillain over it, and Superboy’s been having an identity crisis since the day his cloning tube got cracked. Also, literally Arrowette’s entire life experience. Just . . . literally everything that’s ever happened to Arrowette. Ever.” 

“You didn’t mention Empress,” Cassie says a little lamely, trying not to grimace at herself, because–that’s all true, yeah. She knows it’s all true. Just . . . just it never felt . . . 

“I think Empress might’ve actually sprung into existence fully-formed just to embarrass the rest of us over the course of our respective self-discovery journeys, but all my supporting evidence is technically conjecture,” Tim says, which may or may not be a joke. Who knows, with Tim. “But the point still stands. Superboy’s not mad at you for not knowing something about yourself. None of us are, but especially not him.” 

“I knew,” Cassie says tightly, digging her fingers into her arms a little harder and staring at the wall. “Part of me, anyway. I just thought . . . he’s the perfect guy. I thought if the perfect guy liked me . . . I thought that’d–fix it. I thought that’d be . . . enough. Like–he was already the celebrity crush I lied to all the girls at school about having, just because I thought he was–you know, cool and everything, and so–and then when I actually got a chance to meet him, and then we all wound up teaming up . . . I just thought . . .” 

She’d thought a lot of stupid things, but the stupidest ones had probably been about Kon. 

Those were the things that’d actually gotten somebody else hurt, so . . . yeah. Definitely the stupidest things. 

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God p57

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

Guess getting in contact with Altostratus might end up being the hardest part of the whole process. The association gave you a direct comm machine to keep in contact with the other heroes a while ago but you have never... actually used it?

It's not your fault! You never actually had to use it before! You always managed everything yourself! Or well...with Cub's help. Plus the association said to only use it when you really needed it so you always... found reasons not to waste it just in case.

...

Hmm...Your room is a mess even on good days and right now It's at least ten times worse then usual, you aren't going to ever find it are you? Not fast enough at least. Which leaves contacting the association directly as the only option, you really didn't want to do this because you know they'll ask questions and make you promise to pay them back somehow but if It's the only way you'll-

"Found it" You turn towards Cub who is holding the little communicator thingy right in his hands.

"Where did you-"

"It was in the closet, why would you even put it there? That's where one puts clothes usually."

"I... Have no idea Cub... Wait! You have no room to talk mr I have weird glowing chemical liquids in my drawer!"

He just snorts and waves his hand in the air dismissively. "Well, here you go."

You grab the little radio and nod, Cub leaves the room and you begin the call....Well, this is strangely nervewrecking, you feel like a nervous teen ordering pizza for the first time... you don't even know if he's occupied with hero work right now, maybe this is a mistake- oh he's answered!

<Hello? Hotguy? Why are you calling me?>

"Do you have a car?"

<. . . What?>

Oh yeah, probably should have uh said hi first huh. You might have gotten a bit excited. "Sorry, sorry...hi Stratus!"

<Uhh Hi Hotguy why are you calling? What do you want?>

"Do you have a car?"

<No, I heard you the first time, WHY are you asking me that?>

"Cuteguy is awake!" Wait...was he even told about that? He must have! Definitely!

<... Huh... I still don't see how me having a car relates to this?>

"I uh... Thought it would be easier to get to the clinic by car I'm not allowed to go out as Hotguy right now and the association would kill me if I used my powers to run tgere in civilian clothes...soooo I would have to walk there...under the rain"

<... Are you ser-wait one second>

You hear a noise in the background, it sounds like a somewhat familiar feminine voice? ... Wait, is that Ocean Queen? Why is she with Altostratus?

"Ocean Queen!"

<Wha- you can hear her through this? How powerful is this thing?>

He sounds upset, weird.

"I didn't know you two were working together on a case!"

<... Yes... Working together on a case, definitely what's happening... So uh, anyway, when did you need me to come by?>

"Uh...as soon as you can? Wait! Could you get Ocean Queen to come with? I'm sure Gr- Cuteguy would love to meet her"

There are a few moments of silence on the other end before you hear a stifled giggle come trough.

<You know, I think I'll be able to convince her...just give me like twenty minutes to get dressed.>

And the comm turns off, he must have cut off the call ...wait, why would he have to get dressed if he's working on a case with Ocean Queen? Wait... Are they doing undercover work? Come on! You always wanted to do that and the hero association always said no! That's not fair.

[whumpisgoodwhumpislife]

In troubled water #6

Masterlist

It could be worse.

It could be, really. Despite its aggressive behaviour and its attempts to scare away the aquarist in the scuba gear, the angler mer hadn't made any real attempts to attack him. Only baring its still regrowing fangs and emitting threatening clicks. But every time the human would try to close the distance between them, the small mer would immediately start to crawl away, its mangled tail flicking against the sand. At some point, it had managed to reach one of the walls of the tank, that was covered with rocks, and artificial corals. The small mer had curled around a rock, unable to squeeze into the small crevices, and had stayed here, its breathing quick. Its hands were nervously clenching in the sand, the webbing around its ears orientated in the diver's direction.

The aquarists had agreed to take turns scuba diving in the tank, hoping to get the traumatized creature to get used to them. But it didn't look like a done deal.

Since they had removed the feeding tube, the mer had barely touched anything they brought it. Alive fishes, dead, small pieces, bigger ones, meat cubes, it would completely ignore it as long as there was a diver in the tank. And even when it was left alone, it still hesitated to take a bite, and never finished anything. As a result, it started losing weight again, its already frail frame turning gaunt. Its caretakers, the aquarists, were worried about its health. They were even thinking about reinstalling the feeding tube, despite its obvious discomfort with the intruding device.

They thought the anglerfish was scared of them. In fact, it was absolutely terrified. The poor thing was expecting to be killed every moment, not understanding why they kept toying with it. But the orcas had done the same, after all. It was hungry, so terribly so, but didn't dare to leave its hideout more than a few minutes. Pressing itself against the rocks gave it some sense of comfort, reminding it of the crevices it used to roam in. Here, everything felt so wrong. The water tasted off, it couldn't fit into the crevices, its chest hurt from the pressure, and the tank was so bright it couldn't even see its lure.

It took the aquarists a while to start figuring out things. In their defence, deep-sea mers were rare, and there was no protocol, no adaptation planned. But once the angler's lure started shining brighter, they knew that they were making progress.

They had moved it into a smaller tank, initially containing two eel mers that had been moved into a communal tank. The lights were dim, and the rocky area was much thicker than in the previous tank, which had been designed to replicate the open sea. Here, there was room for the anglerfish to crawl into the crevices on the walls, and it didn't needed to swim to move around.

The small mer remained buried in the new hiding place for three whole days, without coming out once. It was confused, so confused. It was much better now that it could actually hide in the reassuring darkness, but wasn't sure how it had gotten there. The humans were still around, even though they had left it alone. Its hunger was starting to be stronger than its apprehension, and it finally crawled out of its crevice. Slowly, shakily, the mer's maimed tail undulating as it pushed itself out on the sandy floor, its gills flaring. The aquarists had continued to leave small pieces of fish near the entry of the crevice, and it didn't had to go very far to grab a handful of them, immediately darting backwards, into safety. To its relief, nothing happened, and the creature attacked the meat ravenously.

Outside of the tank, staring at the thick glass wall, the aquarist standing there let out a sigh of relief. They were making progress.

Taglist : @sausages-things @jumpywhumpywriter @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thataquaticwhumper @alyscat

@whatamidoingherehelpme @fleur-a-whump @ratsupremacy88 @scoundrelwithboba @phoenixpromptsandstuff

@vampiresprite @neverthelass

[corviiids]

sparknotes for "fix your eyes" the 2/2 akeshu fic

as always dont read this if you havent read the fic it wont make any sense, also p5r spoilers obviously but i think the boat's sailed on that one. happy 2/2, the holiday where goro akechi dies and i celebrate by killing ren. fuck yeah.

i guess the overarching question in this fic is whether ren is real, or, like to what degree he is real? to an extent i want to leave it up to interpretation, but it's not nearly as ambiguous as i left it in my death note fic telltale. you can have your own take on this but fwiw my take is that ren is as real as goro is in canon third sem, which is to say he's real. he's behaving as himself. maruki isn't influencing his behaviour. (at least that's my intention.)

the main mirror to canon w this au is like... okay so in canon, akechi sacrifices himself for the thieves and then is brought back, and ren's big challenge is whether he can stand to lose akechi a second time. it's worse for ren because ren is the Hero, you know? so not only is akechi someone he failed to save, akechi is someone who gave himself up specifically so REN could live, something that ren (who likes to sacrifice himself for others) really struggles to live with. the idea of allowing akechi to sacrifice himself therefore becomes a huge problem for him.

in THIS fic though, akechi killed ren himself. so it's a different question. the actual choice is not between killing ren vs keeping him alive--it's that in november, akechi made the wrong choice. he did something he regrets. so now the onus is back on him, again, to choose again, and figure out which choice is right. killing ren was obviously the wrong thing to do by ren. now, although ren doesn't offer a view one way or the other, the implication is that ren does not want this reality, given ren was fighting maruki all month knowing he was dead. so the right thing to do arguably is to allow ren to die again, even though his death was a wrong that occurred already. this is the more painful choice for akechi to make because it's something he actively wishes didn't happen, but it would be the right thing by ren--so akechi's challenge is whether he can make the selfless choice this time having done wrong before.

that's why akechi in canon and ren in this fic react so differently. akechi has been robbed of his agency all his life, so he impresses his wishes very forcefully on ren: he refuses to live like this, so he insists that ren choose to let him die. whereas ren in this fic was robbed of his life by akechi choosing his fate for him. he knows akechi is now struggling with regretting his decision, so telling akechi to choose one way or the other would actually be more merciful. telling akechi to let him die would make it easier for akechi to do it, and ren refuses to take the burden off him. ren's saying, you chose for me last time and you chose wrong, so now im forcing you to choose again. and this time get it right.

i had a really fun time with akechi's voice in this fic because he's so unstable and just really irritable. he is not having a good time, and he's really unreliable as a result. i think he's really been at sea since he killed ren. sometimes you get everything you always wanted and it just fucking sucks. the whole time he's struggling with how much he wishes he'd failed. he wants ren back, doesn't deserve to have him back, want to spend time with him now that he is back and is also struggling with guilt and bemusement that ren is spending time with him at all. he manifests all of this as irritability because he's just not good at regulating himself.

one of the big things also is that akechi's internal narration calls ren 'amamiya' for almost the entire fic, because they just never got that close. more precisely, akechi doesn't feel he's able to consider ren that closely.

ren's behaviour in the fic is pretty inscrutable. like, it really doesn't make sense for ren to want akechi at all. i guess im making kind of a meta point with this more than i am making any point about ren's internal world. the point is mostly just to emphasise how little goro understands what's going on with ren here. this is a very unreliable narrator fic, something goro comments on himself.

(btw, the joke here is that latin is a dead language........ lmao)

shows thru in parts like this also, where goro kind of technically has a point and yet if this is the entirety of your worldview it's not only jaded it's also just kind of... incomplete. like, it's not wrong? ren's confidants are all like this, basically. and goro does then go on to say that though relationships START like this, they can't stay that way. but more than that, it shows how brittle goro's perspective is on social relationships. his distortions are pretty clear.

he also has this repeated refrain of nihilism the further it goes along lol

there are also a lot of these moments where ren clearly indicates he knows something is up, but akechi just misses them because he's so wrapped up in his own shit.

oh also backtracking a bit

the idea here being that kind of like how akechi will wait in kichijoji in third sem, ren's kind of become the kichijoji confidant and akechi's become the protagonist.

btw initially i had planned to write a more closed ending, or potentially a CYOA style double ending depending on which choice akechi makes? but ultimately i decided to leave it ambiguous.

i feel like there is definitely other stuff i wanted to say but i forgot it so i guess ill just add onto this post later if i think of it. anyway! thanks for reading! happy 2/2! <3

[guesswhatimasimp]

Spoilers for Episode 13

BTW correct me if I'm wrong, thank you 🫶🫶

So I guess we can safely say that Tohma's addicted to his meds, right? Personally, I think he uses it for insomnia, or to manage his anxiety - he looks like a person who got anxiety, you know?

I did some digging about the drug and brother did it not good at all for Tohma. In Episode 1, Tohma takes 2 pills at a time. Assuming he's addicted to the drug - which he probably is, even if he's not, he will be soon because the meds are highly addictive if taken too much (HE GOT THE WHOLE BAG OF IT) - and the meds have many side effects too. Like, brother are you sure you are okay????? I'm concerned for him, really.

And we aren't talking about his particular meds but just think of the dose he takes, that is too much. Not enough to overdose (the maximum recommended daily dose for Alprazolam, aka the drug Tohma takes, is 10 milligrams per day, at least that's what Wikipedia says), but taking too many pills can still have negative effects on you.

Tohma are you okay???? Like, brother 😭

Imagine, Tohma, having pretty bad anxieties, tries to find his meds only to realize he has none on him. Maybe due to him continuously swallowing them every time his mind wanders, or perhaps he forgets them in his dorm room again because fuck it, anxiety, insomnia, and the side effects of the drug make you forget things. What if he tries to stop his addiction by slowly reducing his doses but it just makes his anxiety worse?

NADJCSDJD I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT SORRY FOR RAMBLING TOO MUCH IT'S JUST BEEN ON MY MIND AND I CAN'T GET IT OUT

[starlightshadowsworld]

I think it’s really easy to see Camp Jupiters militaristic mindset and how they’re so vocally against Greek demigods and those that aren’t like them.

And you know, the whole fighting for the confederacy thing. And think oh these guys are the worst.

But Camp Half Blood has just as much issues that I feel get brushed over because it’s portrayed as the more fun and chill camp (that fought for the union.)

When in many respects they are mirror images of each other.

Camo Jupiter judges people on rank and Camp Halfblood judges people on their parentage (frankly I think that’s worse.)

They adore him now but Percy was shunned the moment they learned who his dad was. They shunned Nico for a few things, his dad being one of them.

Tyson because he was a Cyclops and Rachel because she is mortal. In fact they don’t allow mortals into Camp Halfblood unlike Camp Jupiter.

Despite there being Greek legacies in this world. Frank is a son of mars yes but he’s also a legacy of Poseidon.

Frank and Hazel are looked down upon for being part of the 5th leigion and we see how they’re treated compared to those in the 1st.

Camp Jupiter replaced Jason with Percy in a very similar vein to how Camp Halfblood essentially replaced Percy with Thalia when she returned.

Which is why I like to think Percy calling Jason Praetor as well is because he didn’t want Jason to think he replaced him because he knows first hand how much that sucks.

Neither have easy passage to get into considering Camp Jupiter allows Roman demigods entry as long as they’ve survived the Wolf House first.

Camp Halfblood says it allows any Greek demigod but if you’re parent doesn’t have a cabin here you will have to sleep in an already crowded cabin after a deity known for being a thief.

Also the judgement you’ll get for it especially if your parent fought on the perceived bad side of a war.

Camp Jupiter is self governed by Praetors they choose. While Camp Halfblood has Chiron and Mr D snd that one time Chiron was removed and a criminal decided to run things.

Both of which have left their camps in ruin for their own gain.

And the rest is pretty much the same it’s just disguised as fun summer camp stuff in Camp Halfblood.

Get prophecies. Train. Complete a quest if you’re selected. Get a new bracelet bead for a year of completion or you get a tattoo for it.

Get very much favoured by the Olympians if your Greek (because the Romans had to fend for themselves during the Battle of Mount Othrys) but even then that doesn’t exactly mean much.

Yeah New Rome exists but only for those that complete a decade of service (unless your Annabeth and Percy) and in both respects neither are expected to live that long.

They both got a lot of issues and for as different they may try to be for each other, they are very more similar then they’d like to admit.

Makes me wish we saw more of those differing cultures.

Like Frank not getting why people in CHB assume he’s some meat head when he tells them who his dad is.

Thalia being looked down upon in one camp because her brother is not only part of the 5th cohort but a disgraced former praetor. And looked up too in another because her dad is Zeus.

I just think it would be interesting to see.

[the--highlanders]

what do you think jamie does after he's sent back to scotland without his memories?

i think he's always been torn between loving his home, the house he grew up in and the river he played in as a child and the hills he knows like the back of his hand, and yet still deeply longing to leave his little world behind, because he never quite fit right. (and he did! he got out!) but then suddenly he's right back there. he goes back to his childhood home but it's not home anymore and he doesn't know why.

so would he stay and try to fit again, even though he's grown out of his place there? or would he leave, and go looking for whatever had changed him?

YESSS I am so 100% on board with everything you said here. jamie really feels to me like he's someone who's so deeply rooted in his place and his culture, and yet someone who's been battling off this sense of isolation his whole life, and it's all tangled up and complicated inside him. in part he knows his home like the back of his hand /because/ he was somewhat isolated and spent a bunch of time wandering around on his own, and connects to his culture so much because he was chasing a sense of belonging. and on the other hand he had friends and was probably well-liked! but the isolation is still there. maybe even worse for the fact that he wasn't entirely alone.

I do think the crucial point to what jamie does when he's back in scotland is. why exactly he stepped on board the tardis in the first place. which is something I still don't feel like I've fully been able to express even after literal years of trying, maybe because it works best as an impulse borne of him having a deeply traumatic turned deeply strange day. I hc that while jamie's father, brother, and best friend have now died, his mother is still alive and at home, along with other relatives and much of the rest of his community. he /has somewhere to go back to/. he chooses not to go to france and to try his luck with making it home instead, and then all of a sudden he's stepping onto the tardis. sure, he's somewhat confused, and certainly doesn't know what's happening or that he won't be able to get back - but he does still go with them. in that moment, some part of him wanted /out/. going with people he knew to france didn't tempt him, but running off with basically total strangers did. he wanted an entirely fresh start, a blank slate.

on the flip side, the jamie who gets sent back after the war games is /different/, even subconsciously. somewhere buried in there is a person who's more mature, has had three more years of experience, has dealt with so much more and stepped up in ways he probably couldn't have dreamt of when he first left scotland. he's dropped back on drumossie moor, apparently in daylight, presumably with something implanted in his head telling him that the doctor and ben and polly left, he waved them off and turned towards home. so I think that's what he'd do - he'd go home, and try to pick up the pieces as best he could.

at this point, and as he realises more and more that something's /not right/ and he's missing something, I think his sense of isolation is worse than ever. he's so, so close to snapping. but his whole world is holding on by a thread, now - his own family has been decimated, many others are in the same position, they're close enough to culloden and inverness to be subject to a few reprisals and raids from the government - and oddly enough I think that holds him together. he steps up, because somewhere deep inside he knows how to do that now. he's grown up. maybe everyone else just puts it down to the war. it's not like they know any better. and if we know anything about jamie, it's that he can hold himself together if someone else needs him. is it good for him? certainly not. but he's hanging in there.

in my timeline for things he does settle down somewhat once he starts to regain his memories and understand what's happened to him. it /is/ just another thing that sets him apart, and that always hurts, but he's also more confident and understands more about himself than he did growing up, so it rattles him less. he's probably easy to talk to and go to with problems, and friendly enough that you never really realise he doesn't open up about himself. he grows into a bit of a leadership position in his village, and it's good for him, in a way. he's also his own person, not his father's son, and I think that's a sick sort of relief for him. marrying kirsty also helps, because she's a fellow misfit and a great friend, and someone who he can share the truth with. their 'more children than there are days of the week' are lost and orphaned kids they collect, because he's not going to let anyone else grow up alone. it's a weird sort of limbo where he's waiting for the doctor but also has no certainty that he'll ever see him again, where he's made a life he's proud of with people he loves and yet there's always parts of him that are desperately unhappy - but he's getting by. he's good. he's got good things that get him through.

if he /didn't/ get his memories back, though, if he was just caught in that confusion forever... that's where I could really see him leaving. at some point he /does/ snap, and he just. heads off on his own, looking for something he can't remember. it feels good, to always be on the road, maybe to help people where he can as he passes through. he's not tied to anyone, doesn't have to be who anyone else wants him to be, and there's freedom in that. but he always feels like he /shouldn't/ be alone in this, that he should be wandering with someone.

[epwritten]

could've been ~ l.m

"People change, it's up to them"

Description: In which you and Minho have an awkward conversation after the two of you broke up.

Word Count: 2K

Author's note: I was going to originally write this for Felix, but Lee Know kept coming in my head. So I said screw it, we're making this a Minho one shot. I hope you like it!

Additional note: college au, ex's, memories, 2nd pov ('you' format). Minho's a bit mean if that counts as a warning? Not necessarily a happy ending, but still content enough.

Hope you enjoy reading! <3

People changed all the time. It was a part of life.

This was the reminder you played over and over in your head as you made your bed that morning. Everyday was feeling numb and the same. You woke up at around 7 to the sound of your alarm. You took a shower and brushed your teeth. You got dressed. If you had an appetite you would usually make toast and have orange slices on the side. If it was like a day like today where you felt more numb that usual, you grabbed a protein shake and left the kitchen. You'd be out the house before your parents were awake, on your way to work, which you had to be in by 8:30.

You put music in your ears. Nothing like classic R&B or sad songs you loved, but something upbeat like pop or rap that would try to distract you from how you were truly feeling. Because if you were to listen to what you were really feeling there'd be problems and you couldn't afford that. Not when you were at least trying to get better and move on.

But the music choice would be good, you concluded as you turned up the volume. You also worked at the front counter at the campus gym. The place was upbeat anyway.

It wasn't until you arrived at the gym did you feel a harsh cold wind. Your hands flew to your arms as you hugged yourself, looking around in confusion. It was the start of spring, a chill day in April and yet you felt like you were trapped in a freezer.

You spotted Rob, one of your co-workers. He was nice, about a decade older than you, and the one that first helped you during your first few days at work.

"The air condition can't turn off. It's been on overnight at high." Rob told you. You noticed fog escaped his breath.

"Did you call someone?" You asked.

"Yeah, the HVAC technician should be here in an hour. The gym itself is not as cold, but I'm heading to a meeting upstairs and someone needs to stay at front desk while I'm out." Rob said. He shot an apologetic look, but you shook your head.

"It's fine, I can stay here I'll just-"

You stopped talking as a lightbulb went over your head. Your dad was a professor at the same college you attended and worked at, and he would be teaching a morning class. His class didn't start until 9, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go by now. So you had an idea.

You looked at Rob as you got out your phone. "I'll be fine. I'm going to ask my dad if he can drop off a hoodie for me." You said.

Rob nodded. "Okay, thanks a bunch." He gave a final smile before he left and headed up the stairs.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers cold as you typed. It was ridiculously cold and you absolutely needed to feel warmth immediately. The worse part of the whole thing was that you had a weak immune system. Anytime there were weather changes you had to be extra careful and take precaution so that you wouldn't be sick. And it would happen. You would always get the flu or something, but you didn't want to get it this time.

You varied between pacing behind the desk, putting your hands in your jean pockets, and hugging yourself. You felt goosebumps on your forearms and your teeth were slightly chartering.

Who in their right mind turned the air conditioner to the highest level anyway? It wasn't even a scorching day in August yet?

The usual Monday crowd strolled in. They signed in, made little small talk, and then headed straight to the weights. You tried to be as professional as you could, remaining focused on your work as you signed each person in. Maybe the cold helped with that for a bit, but it wasn't until a guy who came in with iced coffee or headphones around his ears did it make you think of someone.

When you were by yourself, you looked ahead, trying not to think about what would cloud your mind but you knew it would come eventually. Everything reminded you of him, but this place was a literal gym, if not THE gym he used to go to.

Now you weren't even sure where he'd go.

You took a deep breath, drumming the table as you closed your eyes and tilted your head just enough for your neck to crack. Satisfied, you did it on the other side too. There was no better feeling than to release unwanted stress and tension.

The door suddenly opened, and the warm air made you open your eyes. You smiled when you saw your dad in his classic suit and suitcase come in. You checked the time on your computer screen.

"You're here early." You commented. He would usually come about an hour later.

"I know, but when you say there's a broken air conditioning and they left you here to freeze in a t-shirt? That's not happening on my watch." He said, walking over to give you a side hug.

He felt your arm. "You're a block of ice!" He said shocked. You had to giggle at his concern.

"I grabbed the biggest hoodie I could find. It was in your closet." He said, handing you a grey hoodie that was slung over his shoulder.

You blinked, staring at it for a second as you slowly took it from his hands.

"Alright, I'm going to go over my lecture. You're all good now, right?" Your dad asked.

You nodded. "Yes. Thanks, dad."

He left the gym, shuddering as he opened the door. He turned and pointed to you on his way out. "Wear the hoodie immediately!" He yelled.

"Okay!" You said, shooting a thumbs up.

When the door closed, you sighed. You could feel the fabric, or check the design, or even smell the piece of clothing. But you didn't have to.

Because you still, even after all this time of distance, knew it wasn't your hoodie. It was Minho's.

You ran fingers through your hair as you sighed, looking at the grey oversized hoodie that was placed on the counter. How could have still had this? You thought you gave everything back.

But it had been months. Two months and seven days exactly (though who's counting?). Couldn't Minho have noticed on of his hoodies missing and asked for it back?

You sat in the stool now, still staring at what was once your blanket of memories. It wasn't your dad's fault, he didn't realized what he grabbed. The poor man probably read your text and ran without a second thought. He knew the breakup was hard, he would have never took Minho's hoodie for you to wear intentionally.

But here you were, now faced with this reality. You still had this one hoodie in your closet. And now you were freezing. You considered the options. You could wait until the technician guy came in, and just freeze for one more hour. By that point your fingers would go completely numb. But would it be worth it? What would be the point of that? If you were freezing, and there was a hoodie that was right in front of you, no one in their good mind would reject that.

But would they reject it if it was from their ex?

You let out a sigh but knew what you had to do. It was either your health, or nothing. It wasn't worth it to get sick just because you didn't use what would help you right there in the moment, even it was Minho's.

You took the hoodie that was starting to be chilly itself and then brought it over you to wear. An action you've done so many times, but you never thought there'd be a day when it caused you pain.

Once it was worn you suddenly remembered that it was a custom made hoodie that one of his friends got for his birthday. In small but still visible cursive print on the left side read the letters L. M.

You were now after breaking up with him, wearing his initials again.

This. Was. Torturous.

You put the hood of the hoodie over your head and pulled down the sleeves just slightly so you could continue working with sweater paws. You were grateful now that you were shivering anymore, and whatever feeling of soreness that wanted to start in your throat was now coming down. You knew it was way better to save your health. The technician would be here soon and you could take the hoodie off.

The busyness of the job came in shifts. One moment it would be slow, then out of nowhere, a while wave of people would come in. Each of the conversations were similar. They asked about the cold, you told them about the problem, they asked if the gym was closed, you told them they could still work out and the gym itself was fine. After the current wave you just passed (which dealt with way too much energy for a 9am) you finally had a chance to sit down. You mindlessly rested your head against the desk, wanting to be still for a moment. But after a few seconds your head jolted up.

The hoodie still smelled like him.

It was ridiculous. Maybe you were paranoid. You had washed this hoodie several times, how could you have smelled his scent?

You missed it. The natural one. You liked his cologne as well of course, but it was the snug moments where if you cuddled on the couch, and if you were wearing his clothes and he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, you would be surrounded by a fresh dove springtime smell. It immediately gave you the memories and you tried to now look at the computer, then down to the view of the gym, anything to get your kind off of it.

You weren't struggling as much as you once were, when the breakup was still a few days old. You weren't necessarily going to lie and say you were happy and all better, but you were just numb now. Numb to the feelings, and also numb to the memories. But now, as you sat in your ex boyfriend's hoodie, it was playing a bunch of tricks on your brain. Suddenly you were back there in the cold days. Suddenly you were back to falling asleep in his arms. Suddenly you were back to library dates with coffee. Suddenly you were back to watching his morning runs.

You shook your head and glanced at the clock. Just one more hour. Then you could take the stupid thing off.

Long minutes passed by but you were getting through your morning until the door chimed and opened once again. You looked up and instantly felt your heart drop.

Minho's friends from his dance club came through the door, and it wasn't long until you saw him in a black hoodie on top of cargo pants. His brown hair long and styled in a way that made you hate how good you thought he looked. He always looked good, but he wasn't yours to tell that anymore.

He was laughing, an iced coffee in his hand. Though you were confused. He had a class at this time. Why was he at the gym?

You kept your eyes down, trying to avert your gaze. They were headed in your direction. You weren't sure what Minho would do. Since the breakup you didn't see him much, but if you paths were to cross for whatever reason, you would pass by each other like strangers. Minho wouldn't glance in your direction and so you learned how to do the same thing.

But now for the first time in a while you were spotted, and making matters worse, in his hoodie. What would his friends think? What would he think? You hoped Minho wouldn't notice.

As the guys walked over to the counter, Minho was last in line. He had his phone with him scrolling away in disinterest as his straw was in mouth. You tried not to pay attention as you plastered a while.

It was semi awkward since most of the guys knew who you were. But you were all adults so you weren't about to make a scene. You signed them in and they smiled and said their thanks.

"Have a good workout." You wished, just as you did with everyone who's stepped in since the gym opened.

Now that Minho's friends left, you turned to the computer screen, typing his name. You could do this whole thing in silence, and as you see in the corner of your eye that Minho looked around the place and not at you, you expected that he would do the same.

That was until he placed his hand on the desk, leaning in.

"What are you doing?" He asked. His voice sounded slightly irritated.

Your hands typed fast and you willed yourself to be strong and not timid. You were bound to talk to him eventually.

"I'm working Minho, what does it look like I'm doing?" You finally looked up at his handsome face. "I need your card."

Minho's gaze fell at the hoodie. "Why are you wearing my hoodie? What do you think you're doing?"

You breathed deeply and slowly. "I don't know if you noticed this, but this air conditioning is on the highest level and I needed something to warm me up-"

"So you walk around wearing my freaking initials on your chest."

Minho took a step back and glanced at you. Was it disgust? Anger? Resentment? You couldn't even tell.

You blinked. "It's not like that. I didn't know about the air conditioner until I got here. I asked my dad to grab a hoodie on his way here and he found this one. That's all."

Minho rolled his eyes as he got out his wallet. "Sure."

"It's the truth." You said.

Minho didn't look like he believed. His eyes were elsewhere as he handed you his card and you swiped it on the machine. When you handed back his card, he looked at you once more.

"We broke up. And you're out here wearing my hoodie, that's not fair." He said, his voice low.

You scoffed, holding the hem of his hoodie. "Do you think I want to wear this? You think it's fun for me to go around wearing something from someone I'd rather have no business with? I don't like this. It's awkward, okay? But it was either this or freeze." You told him.

Minho shook his head. There was a look in his eye, though you couldn't tell what exactly he felt. You knew this was awkward for him. You placed yourself in his shoes. He, just like you, had a right to move on. But when you were wearing something of his, it was awkward. You knew that.

You just didn't like how he made it seem like it was your choice in the matter.

"Well, is someone coming to fix the air conditioner?" Minho asked.

You nodded. "In about an hour."

Minho gave a weird look. "You couldn't have waited until then?"

That was what made you ticked off. You shook your head, letting out a huff.

"Look, do you want me to take this off and give it to you? Because-"

"Calm down. You're already wearing it, I'm not gonna ask you to take it off, I'm not that vile. It's whatever. You can keep it. Or burn it later. Do whatever you want with it. I don't care." Minho said, taking his wallet and his coffee.

He walked away from the desk, leaving you staring at his retreating figure as he went on his phone. You sighed, covering your face in your hands.

You weren't the type that hated anybody, but you didn't understand him. And that caused an anger to build up. How could he stand there so disgusted, so bratty, so nonchalant, like he never once told you he loved you? As if you weren't the one he once shared everything with? Why was he so cold, when once all you felt was the warmth of being cradled in his arms? How could he interact with you like he never knew you when he once kissed every part of you? Was it not hurting him to stand there and pretend he didn't think of all the moments shared? Did he not miss it? Did he not miss you...like you missed him?

Minho once told you, during that times where you both were fighting a lot, that it wasn't over between you. There was still something, whether fate, force, or faith, that was keeping you both together by a thread. That even through the differences you both had, you would stay together because you were meant to be.

It wasn't until after everything that happened in the breakup did you realize in the learning curve was that the only thing meant for the two of you was to break up. You weren't the same. Not even close. He was different, you were different.

People changed all the time. It was a part of life. And soon you would get to the point of gratitude that he was no longer in your life anymore.