#also i know it is these shorts in particular bc i am currently wearing my regular size from this brand.....

[b-blushes]

shorts sizing so messed up i am ordering TWO sizes bigger than normal..... get it together

[vohtaro]

pats ur shoulder. are u winning the gender thought wars son

i feel like if i had better personal fashion sense, i’d feel closer to genderqueer than i do nonbinary…. the terms kind of overlap in my head a lot too. i’m not entirely sure tho. i guess i currently don’t feel especially inspired by dressing like my dad but in jeans instead of cargo shorts LOL. i’ve undeniably fallen into the ‘dress vaguely masc since ur nonbinary’ trap. i’d like to read more about it all: the experiences ppl have w their genders (& maybe specifically where ppl draw al line btwn these two i’ve mentioned in particular). but i mean the lines are also personal and subjective right. the way i see it for myself, being one or the other doesn’t rlly change anything, bc gender =/= pronouns. perhaps genderqueer is something of a constant state of flux whereas nonbinary is an intentional choice to stand somewhere either at the center of, or outside of, the binary. i’m kind of a ‘labels don’t mean much to me’ kind of person, tho sometimes i find social situations get difficult to navigate when i don’t have an “easy” answer re:my pronouns esp since my pronoun are they rn.

anyways. i’ve been thinking about it for like months now tho i don’t feel in any kind of rush to have an answer. my gender is whatever feels right, and my pronouns being they is a good enough fit. really my issues are physical. i’m kind of glad i’ve taken time to be patient w myself w regards to my physical self, tho i still have desires to make a change one day. being cursed with dd���s/e’s has given me loads of dysohoria, as has being fat. that dysohoria has been fed by both societal expectations and personal life experiences too. it’s been easier to just dress baggy and dress casually than to explore expression while also having self confidence in my appearance, regardless of what vibe the appearance gives off. i’ve been trained into thinking that dressing femme invalidates my they pronouns in peoples’ minds. it shouldn’t, obviously, but the training tells me that dressing like a dad is a safer bet than allowing myself to wear something like a blouse or something colorful and cute.

happy belated father’s day from your local dad. i am currently wearing a Champion crew neck navy blue sweater and was considering getting a pair of New Balance shoes the other week. I bought a drill set from The Home Depot last week and i know where the water shutoff is in my place. but i think i need to engage in a different kind of fashion and have the trust in those around me that my pronouns won’t change unless i want them to, and to confidently correct people if they incorrectly identify me.

(tl;dr: to be clear fashion doesn’t identify gender and u should dress how u like and how u want and never let clothes define u unless u want them to. consumption (in this case, clothing) for validation is not the way. this is mostly me in a long-winded manner saying ‘brother u need a lil confidence’ to myself )

[aeide-thea]

i feel like fairly regularly i make posts on here that are like 'huh, turns out that actually this Cut-For-Women garment i thought was fairly neutral and would be unremarkable makes me dysphoric!!' and then like. learn nothing from that realization and make an identical post about a different garment some months later—

like it's complicated because as a short king* i do frequently enjoy eg short shorts. are they masc? no. is my (inaccurate but gratifying) self-concept one of those, like, vintage dudes in short shorts when i wear them? yes, so it's fine. and there are some other things like that, where like, if i do the right mental gymnastics they can work for me (i started to specify but like. does anyone really care, lol. apply within in the unlikely event that you Must Know, i guess!).

however i think negative ease is like. more and more consistently a problem for me. like it just feels to me like such a vestige of womenswear training—

[here i'd originally typed out and then redacted a whole excursus on like, all the transmasc fashion blogs you used to see years ago where people would put together these legitimately masc outfits and then on the bottom they'd do these incredibly clingy skinny jeans, bc like, who am i to police that, maybe they were into the deliberate juxtaposition of it! but i did always wonder at the time whether it was just, like, a leftover womenswear habit they hadn't yet actively scrutinized, although probably it was unenlightened of me to be noticing it at all…]

—and the more i move away from that training, the more i find that things i've bought which don't have actively positive ease just strike me as, like, weirdly shrunken and constricting?? which is frustrating when they're things whose material, color, &c i otherwise still quite like!

anyway really this is a post abt how i currently have one (1) hoodie i like, and in theory it would be nice to have a second one both for more color combination possibilities and also because i hear you're like. supposed to take things off and wash them ever, even if merino is magic or whatever. however (a) there aren't any other interesting colors in that particular model, really, and the people who do make interesting colors (icebreaker) really want you to be taller than i am, especially for menswear; and (b) the whole problem is extremely irritating because i do have another older hoodie in a colorway i still quite like! there's nothing wrong with it except that stupidly i bought it too form-fitting at the time and now even though by womenswear standards it does in fact still 'fit' the way it clings through my shoulders/arms is making me insane!

in conclusion, grr, argh, &c.

⸻ * 'king' isn't really the right language for me but like. in a totally inexplicable turn of events (it's very explicable. we can do a whole sidebar on how binary gender is a pillar of the kyriarchy or whatever.) most noble titles i'm aware of are very binarily gendered. maybe we'll go with 'marquess' bc like. it's a man's title but also looks feminine by ordinary english standards and like. what am i if not the ruler of a border area.

[tobi-momo]

Short Hair :)

a/n: thank you for requesting anon! i once cut my hair pretty short and was also a lil insecure so this helped me too! feel free to come by my inbox any time! Also- big big thank you to my sis @combat-wombatus​ <3 for basically coming up with the ground structure yall should go follow her bc her works? literal *chefs kiss* (i also kind took it as a pixie cut? so i am v sorry if you wanted the hair shorter) Request: 

Type: Drabble/Scenario

Genre: Fluff, comfort (?), i think i kept this mostly GN, sooo

Warnings: cursing, insecurity, (i think thats it?)

general taglist: @zerohawks​ @hitosushi​ 

Bakugou’s Crush Being Insecure About Their Short Hair

Mina had always been an unpredictable sparring partner

She was always jumping around and throwing her acid carelessly, trying to have fun with you as you actually try to do something with your quirk

Kirishima knows how much of a mess Mina can be and because yall are using his workout equipment- he needs to supervise.

He was givin yall tips n shit- very manly of him

You guys were getting into it, really trying to defeat one another when Mina made a mistake

Her acid hits your hair, burning it off to almost above chin length

Kirishima hurries over to your side, checking your neck and head for injuries and burns before turning over to Mina

“I’m so so so so so sorry, y/n! I didn’t mean to I swear!”

“It’s- It’s fine,” you lied, now super embarrassed and insecure, “i’ll just get it fixed or something. No big deal.”

“You’re lucky it was no big deal, one inch to the right and the acid woulda cut through your neck,” kirishima adds, worried about your state- you could always count on him to see behind your mask- thats one of the reasons hes your best friend

“Are you okay?” Mina pleads

“Yeah, of course, I just need to fix,” you point to your mess that you call hair, “this,” you breathe out a laugh

Mina basically freaks out and Kirishima being the manliest man to ever exist takes care of you <33 (not like that tho- this is a baku x reader, ok!)

He gives you a ride to the hair salon (he needed to touch up on his hair too ngl) and totally hypes you up the entire time you were getting your hair trimmed

It made you feel better, but you were still iffy about your hair, but what else were you gonna do? Shave your head? Hell no.

He knew this, of course, and offered you one of his hats to where during school hours until you were comfortable

So, showing up to school in Kirishima’s hat set someone in particular off. 

Walking into class with an expressionless face, you take your seat and sloppily drop your bag on the floor beside your chair. Not feeling up to interacting with anyone, especially since your new haircut was the shortest it’s ever been ever. You just wanted to crawl inside a hole and never come out. You didn’t want to hear other people’s remarks on your hair, you didn’t want people to look at it. You didn’t want Mina to feel bad of course, but you couldn’t help but feel...not right.

“What the fuck is that?” You look up unfazed until you see Bakugou, the one that made your heart flutter when you looked at him, and your face flushing red as you stare at him, embarrassed as all hell when he points at Kirishima’s hat.

“What is what?” You ask, acting oblivious, but you can tell he can see through that.

“That, the ugly fuckin’ hat you have on. Take it off.”

“No can do, Baku-kun,” you reply, nonchalant.

“Well why the hell not?” His temper shows when he doesn’t get his way.

“Because.” You look down at your desk.

“You shitty fucking woman.” You look up at him again, bored, before you start tapping your finger on the desk repeatedly. “If you don’t take Shitty Hair’s hat off right now I will rip it off of your head.”

How did he know it was Kirishima’s hat? You finally give in, not wanting him to pull your hat off without giving him a warning for what he might see. 

You moan in defeat, sitting up. “Mina. She burned my hair with her quirk so I had to cut it.”

“I said sorry!” Mina chimes in. You acknowledge her for a moment, then turn back to Bakugou.

“Lemme see,” he says softly, which surprises you and makes your pulse stutter, but you won’t give up so easily.

“No.”

He tilts his head, giving you a glare that makes you think he actually might take your hat off forcibly. Ok, so you may give up a little easily. You sigh and slowly take off your hat. Kirishima watches from afar, smiling widely while he hits Kaminari and Sero with the back of his arm, catching their attention to face you. 

Your hair is revealed, and all Bakugou can do is stare. Just- stare. You regret coming to class. You stand up, making your chair screech on the floor before grabbing your bag, mumbling curses to yourself before heading out. Before you could close the door, though, you felt your arm being tugged back into the classroom. Your head whips around to see Bakugou having the same distraught, shocked expression on his face- almost looked like disbelief.

“What? Leave me alone.” You try to pull your arm back before Bakugou uses his other hand to grab your same arm, his expression not faltering. “What the hell is your problem? It’s short, yeah, I get that. You don’t need to rub it in my face.” You look away. Of course he would have that reaction. He thought you were ugly. 

Mina’s face falters, turning into a frown, sad for you and also mad at herself. Kirishima took notice and gave her a reassuring look.

“You look-” Bakugou fails to get a sentence out, stumbling on his words.

“I look what. Just say it already.”

“Fucking beautiful.” Your head shoots up, and everyone in the back of the class silently cheers while they await your response. You hear a couple gasps in the background, but don’t pay attention when you tilt your head in confusion.

“W-what?” You furrow your eyes, completely taken by surprise. 

Bakugou’s eyes widen for a second before returning to normal, letting go of your rights. He clears his throat as he turns away with a blush. “I said you look beautiful. Got a problem?” 

You look around the room, seeing everyone’s expression. Everyone- mostly everyone- was smiling towards you too, like they have been waiting for it to happen. Mina nods at you, nudging you on. Kirishima winks at you, pointing his head at Bakugou, who is currently facing the door frame. You look back at him, realizing how flustered he is. You smile. So- he didn’t think you were ugly? He thought you were beautiful. *He* thought you were beautiful. Short hair and all. Wow. 

“No. I don’t.” He looks at you with shock, not expecting that answer. 

“Good. Now don’t ever wear Shitty Hair’s hat ever again,” he tries to pull off. With that, he takes the hat of your head and chucks it at Kirishima, who catches it then laughs, giving everyone else the queue to start bombarding you with compliments and questions.

Having short hair may not be so bad.

REQUESTS:OPEN

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

new team - shoyo hinata

shoyo hinata x fem!reader

summary: you teach hinata some skills in middle school and to pay you back, he guarantees you a spot on the karasuno volleyball team.

warnings: NONE VERY FLUFFY

word count: 1,737

notes: i rlly rlly liked writing this bc i love my boy hinata and this just flowed so naturally and i’m rlly proud of it :’)

i also usually write gender neutral reader bc i’m nb and i wanna cater to as many ppl as possible and make them feel valid, but it was kinda necessary to the story for reader to be fem in this one

********************

after setting a ball to your friend, you noticed a short boy by himself in the corner of the gym with bright orange hair, setting and receiving against the wall. you made your way over to him, observing that he actually wasn’t too bad.

“oi, redhead,” you called out playfully. he turned around with a look of confusion on his face, as if to say ‘me?’ “yeah you. i couldn’t help but notice you’re playing all by your lonesome over here. any particular reason for that?”

his cheeks tinged pink at the callout, but he responded nonetheless. “w-well there’s not enough boys for the school to create a boys volleyball club, so i’m trying to get as many hours of practice in at school as i can.”

you nodded in recognition of his situation. “well, sorry to say you won’t get very far if the wall is your only opponent. but you’re certainly welcome to practice with me when my practice is over. if you’re interested, of course.”

“woah, really? you’d do that for me?” he asked in astonishment, eyes going wide as saucers.

“of course i would. i may not know much about you, but i can tell you have a passion for the sport, and it’d be a real shame for that to fizzle out,” you smiled genuinely. “i’ll help you practice...”

it took him a moment to realize you were waiting for his name. “oh! hinata! shoyo hinata.” he introduced.

“well shoyo hinata, i’m y/n l/n and i look forward to practicing with you.” you grinned. a whistle blew behind you, pulling you from your conversation with the boy. “sorry, i’ll see you later!”

sure enough, you found him waiting out by the baseball field, spinning a volleyball in his palm. after a short while of practicing, you realized you had underestimated this kid and the power he can pack in his spikes. it was clear he needed to improve in his receives, but he was in remarkably good shape for playing against a wall every week.

the two of you quickly became good friends, shoyo becoming your number one supporter - aside from your parents, of course. he attended all your games, cheering obnoxiously loud when it was your turn to serve.

over the summer from 8th to 9th grade however, the two of you didn’t see each other nearly as often as you used to. you had to admit it made you sad; the sweet redheaded boy had carved a special spot in your heart and you missed him dearly.

you attended karasuno high school, hoping to join the girls volleyball club and make some new friends. upon examining the club applications, much to your dismay, it appeared that such a club didn’t exist.

volleyball was your passion, and it hurt that you had no way of pursuing it anymore.

hanging your head in defeat and crumpling up the paper, you heard footsteps approaching rapidly from in front of you. before you could look up, a body suddenly collided with you, nearly knocking you over with the momentum they had built up.

“y/n!” a familiar voice cried out. you quickly realized the voice belonged to hinata, who’s arms were currently wrapped around you.

“hinata! i can’t believe you go to school here! i’ve missed you so much!” you squealed, hugging him back.

he pulled away, a look of surprise on his face. “are you kidding? i can’t believe you go to school here! you oughta be wherever the best girls volleyball club is! speaking of that, have you joined yet?”

you glanced down to the crumpled paper that still pressed against your palm. “well that’s the thing, it’s not even a choice on the club application form. unfortunately, i don’t think karasuno has one.”

shoyo gasped dramatically, jaw falling open in shock. “so what are you gonna do? you can’t just not play anymore, you’re so good!”

you smiled at the compliment from the boy, but your expression grew sadder. “thanks, shoyo, but i’m not sure what i can do. this seems like it’s out of my hands.”

a look of determination painted his features as he grabbed you by the shoulders. “no, i’m not gonna let this happen to you. don’t worry, y/n, i’ll find a way for you to play.”

he ran off, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the deserted hallway.

despite having absolutely no idea what he was planning, you trusted the boy. you knew he had your best interests at heart and would do anything to help you succeed, and you adored him for that. you just hoped whatever method he had to allow you to play wasn’t too embarrassing for you; you weren’t too keen on begging some team to let you play for them, but you had a feeling hinata’s plan wouldn’t involve that.

——————————

“please?” hinata begged.

“a girl? join the team? i don’t know hinata, you’d have to run it by the coach.” daichi uttered hesitantly.

“but you’re the captain, daichi, you have the final say!” he reminded him.

daichi sighed. “yeah, you’re right. what’s so special about this girl?”

he watched as hinata’s eyes lit up in excitement when he spoke about her. “well she was the setter in middle school, but that was only because no one else was good enough to play that position. she’s really versatile and she taught me practically everything i know about spiking! she’s also got some mean overhand serving skills; she’d be a great addition to the team! please, daichi, pretty please?”

he looked down at the boy to see him glancing up with a pair of puppy eyes, intent on winning him over. daichi felt he was powerless to do anything but give in, though his description of you did sound pretty great if he was being honest.

“alright, i’ll talk to the coach and see what he thinks. bring her to our next practice and introduce her to everyone.” he said, not missing the bright grin that donned the redhead’s face at his words.

“thank you so much, sir! you won’t regret it, i promise!” he ran back towards the basket of balls to practice serving once more.

——————————

“where are you taking me, shoyo?” you muttered. “can you take your hands off yet?”

he had cornered you back in the main building, insisting you accompany him to some unknown destination he had in mind. since then, he had been walking directly behind you, his hands covering your eyes.

“i’ll show you...” he waited until you took a few more steps. “now!”

you blinked your eyes open to find yourself outside of the gym building. “the gym? what are we doing here, hinata?”

you turned to him and he grinned. “volleyball practice is about to start.”

“volleyball - as in boys volleyball? what am i doing here? am i here to watch you practice?”

he donned a soft smile at your confusion. “no, you’re gonna practice.”

your eyes widened. “i am? i don’t even have any athletic clothes, shoyo, i just have my uniform!”

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that today,” he pushed you towards the doors. “i’ll just be introducing you to everyone today.”

“introducing...? what is going on here, hinata?” you questioned. he pushed the door open to reveal a large group of mostly tall boys, all staring down at you.

most of them looked friendly and approachable, but several of them looked rather intimidating. “everyone, this is y/n. y/n, this is your new team.” shoyo announced.

you gasped, turning towards hinata. “m-my new team? you got me a spot on the team?”

the look of gratitude in your eyes had him blushing a bright pink and he scratched the back of his head nervously. “it was nothing, really. y-”

he was cut off as you hugged him tightly, thanking him for allowing you to continue the sport you loved. “you don’t have to thank me, it’s not a huge deal or anything.”

“are you kidding? it’s a huge deal! i can’t believe you did this for me!” your smile nearly reached your ears.

he walked you around the gym, introducing you to his teammates. sugawara and asahi were incredibly sweet, even offering to set you a few balls to test your spiking abilities, though you declined since you were still wearing a skirt.

the intimidating one you saw earlier - tsukkishima, you had learned - was not as sweet as the others you had met and seemed rather distant, though you hoped that would fade as you got to know him.

tanaka and nishinoya were full of energy and practically gushing over you even though they hadn’t yet witnessed your abilities.

the one shoyo introduced as kageyama shot you a nasty glare. “what position did you play?”

“setter,” you murmured, slightly on edge from the look of intensity in his eyes. that intensity morphed into fury after your words, intimidating you further.

you quickly remembered this was the incredible setter hinata had mentioned several times before. “o-oh! don’t worry, i don’t plan on taking your spot or anything, i’m sure you’re far better than i am!”

“good.” you smiled at him nervously. “if you’re good enough, maybe i’ll send you a couple sets.”

and of course you met daichi, the captain to whom you owed your spot on this team. he was very friendly and personable and you suspected he was the type to give inspirational speeches before games.

kageyama pulled hinata aside, practicing quick attacks with him, leaving you with daichi.

“hinata talks about you quite a bit, y’know,” daichi murmured, catching your attention.

“he does?” you queried. “all good things, i hope.”

the captain smiled down at you. “he speaks very highly about you and your skills. i think he’s got a bit of a bias since you taught him what he knows, but i don’t doubt you’ll really prove yourself on the court.”

your eyes went wide at the faith he already had in you, despite never seeing you play. “thank you, daichi, that really means a lot.”

the boys divided themselves into teams, starting a practice match as you and daichi observed from the sidelines. your eyes found hinata in the back row, who gave you a wide grin and a wave.

you waved back, your heart warming at the gesture. you had only just met the boys, but you couldn’t wait for the next practice.

********************

i might make this a series? maybe?? maybe not?? idk but let me know what u think :D

tags: @aestosia​ @elysianslove​

not working: @akaashis-keiji @bloodydestiney 

[prodigaldaughteralice]

Thanks for tagging me, @starsailorstories!!!

Favourite colour: To look at, sage green; to wear, black and red!

Currently reading: Re-reading the Parasol Protectorate series bc there’s a very particular gaslamp fun itch that that series scratches like no other, and I’ve also got My Best Friend’s Exorcism and A Marvellous Light fighting for top spot on my TBR. 

Last song: “Bus Stop” by The Hollies, I am also a grandma, look it’s just a very cute song and it was really stuck in my head yesterday.

Last series: I’ve been watching Junior Bake Off with my mum, and Sandman with both my parents together, and Moriarty the Patriot with my girlfriend! Television seems to be a communal experience for me. Huh. 

Last movie: Sneakers, a 90s hacker espionage drama my mum put on the other night. Hell of a cast, quite funny in places, fascinatingly dated. 

Sweet/spicy/savoury: There’s a place for all of them! I admit to having a baby’s mouth when it comes to spicy things— I used to love them, and then I had hot sauce instead of dinner for a while (long story) and burnt out my spice tolerance. I’m trying to get it back! And I do have quite a sweet tooth, but in an “I like eating sweet things” way not a “I want things to be very sweet” way? 

Currently working on: Fanfic-wise, I’m finishing off my piece for @ryminzine and also working on the last chapter of We Sing It Anyway; I also splodged some angsty Mystery Skulls Animated brainworms all over a text doc but I don’t know if that’ll amount to anything. As for my own projects, I’m editing a short story about a selkie’s daughter and her shitty dad, and once I get my brain chemistry a little more in order I’ll get back to revising my murder mystery Victorian novel. 

…also I’m cross stitching a lot these days

All right, I’m going to tag @melloproductions, @sudoscience, @euphreana, and @damaramegido!

[mulletcal]

flowers, maybe daisies, might relieve the gloom. - an a.i blurb

a/n: i lowkey blame @sexgodashton​ for starting this whole mini series of boomer!ash things, but i also adore this because boomer!ash is soft as hell.  and also a lil d*ddy but we don’t need to talk about that.  title is from wait by sweeney todd bc i love it.  alternative title was gonna be from L.G. FUAD by motion city soundtrack

word count: 

warnings: ashton irwin being a thirst trapping, lemon stealing whore. i’m kidding it’s just a solo ash fic w no smut but some mild ash thirst trapping.

-----

‘ashtonirwin started a live video.’

Ashton didn’t often go live on Instagram, but this shelter in place order had left him ultimately bored - writing a song every day before noon, sure, but anything after that was a blur.  Occasionally he would have interviews or live-streams with the band, but on days without that he was left alone with his thoughts, and his thoughts weren’t always the safest place to be; so talking to fans it was. 

It was going well so far, simply asking fans how their quarantine was going - bringing some of them into the livestream so he could talk to some face to face.  One girl in particular had caught his attention when they began to discuss hobbies she had picked up during the time she’d spent at home.

“Yeah, I’m learning to garden.  I have a tomato plant that is just starting to sprout actual tomatoes, so that’s kind of exciting,” She had said, a nervous laugh escaping.

“Well, I would hope that your tomato plant is sprouting tomatoes, it would be a little concerning if it was growing something else,” Ashton replied with a chuckle, the girl giving a small shrug but still laughing along with him.

“You should look into it if you’ve got the room at your house, I bet it would feel rather rewarding to be able to cook something with your own fresh vegetables.”

“Would save me quite a bit of money too.  Can I grow yeast? I’d like to learn how to make my own bread but here in L.A. you can’t find yeast anywhere.”

The conversation continued like that for a few minutes more, Ashton taking only a couple more fans into the livestream after that to talk to before he decided he should probably do something else productive with his day.  Something like learning to garden. 

It surprised Ashton the things you were able to order online during this time - soil being the main thing.  He also read that saving coffee grounds would help, and he was excited at the idea of his insane coffee habit wouldn’t be completely useless.  He ended up buying seeds for tomatoes, mint, sunflowers, lemongrass, and zucchini.  The lemongrass and mint was specifically for Calum, realizing he would be able to dry the plants out once he had harvested them so he could make the man his very own tea.

When his package finally arrived, Ashton spread the packages out, sliding them across the table as though he was some card dealer in Las Vegas.  Thinking the fans would find it amusing, he took a picture of the spread and added it to his story with the caption of ‘pick a card, any card…’.  Maybe it would only be funny to him, but it did prompt a fire reaction from Michael.

It seemed as though the reaction from fans were positive though, them taking to Twitter to let him know their excitement about his new endeavour.  That’s where his weekly livestreams began.  He would show everyone the progress he was making with his plants, and just in general him chatting with fans.  Ashton never really thought of how refreshing it could be to just talk to the fans, without the worry of time restrictions or anyone’s personal safety in the way; in fact, it left him rather inspired, loving their fans even more if it were at all possible.

A particularly warm day in L.A. left Ashton wondering if he should go out to the garden that day - but it was the day he would normally livestream, and he was excited to show what he was up to that day.  Ashton wanted to plant another tomato plant, and also the lemons on his infamous tree had enough for him to make some lemonade so he was going to go through that as well.

Clad in some cut off jeans, or as Calum so affectionately called them his jorts, and a white tank top, he pulled up the live option on Instagram and waited for the people to begin to filter in before he started to speak.

“Hey guys! Just gonna wait for more of you to filter in before I actually head outside, but I thought that since you guys love my lemon tree so much, I’d make some lemonade.  Fuck, I sound like a YouTuber.  Is that gonna be my next career, is just YouTube tutorials on how to make shitty lemonade?” Ashton laughed to himself, slicing the lemon so he could juice it, ignoring the comments he saw about murdering his lemon children.

It didn’t take him long to make the lemonade, making mild conversation with the fans while he stirred in a little bit of sugar and some cheat mint he had ordered while waiting for his own to grow.

“Alright, now that I’m waiting for that to cool, probably best we go outside and check on those tomatoes, hm?” 

It had been weird at first, talking to himself; but he quickly realized that he talked to himself anyways, even without the phone in front of him, so it couldn’t have been too weird for anyone who could overhear him.

“So I wanted to plant another tomato plant today, because everyone can use a friend right now, you know?” He looked into the camera, a smile spreading across his face when he saw the flood of cute little emojis that followed.  “M’gonna be like the Bob Ross of gardening. No mistakes, only happy accidents or whatever it was he said.”

Ashton began to work away at his garden, building up a sweat in the process.  It wasn’t until he leaned back, glancing at his phone did he see a text from Michael flash across the top.

‘Mate, Crystal said stop thirst trapping the fans.’

Ashton’s brow furrowed, unsure of what the text was saying, “Okay so I just got a text from Michael - what’s thirst trapping? And am I currently doing it?”

Of all the comments that followed, he noticed one that said ‘I mean… I’m not gonna say either way but take a look at yourself and get back to us’.  Another one told him that it was when someone wears something in order to provoke risque texts, or gain attention from someone.

Ashton pouted, looking down at his appearance.  He was kind of sweaty, but he didn’t think that the fans would mind him being covered in dirt and sweat, it’s not as though they had to smell him.  Though, he would admit that he needed a shower. 

“Well, since my tomato plant has been… planted next to its’ friend, and I’m apparently thirst trapping you all, I should probably go shower and clean up.  Is me mentioning a shower thirst trapping as well?” Ashton rubbed his face over his hands, a small huff leaving his lips, “I don’t know… Fellow youths, tweet me and lemme know.  Also, may hold a poll later on what to name these guys.” He flipped the camera around, struggling for a moment, to show the sunflowers that were starting to sprout, “M’thinking of naming one Denise.  Just seems like a Denise.”

After his small speech was over, he ended the stream, grinning to himself.  He hadn’t meant to show off his body in such a way, but it was funny to know that even with him hardly doing anything but be himself they still lost their shit.

Glancing around at his garden, he felt himself swell with a mild sense of pride.  He was still a ways off from seeing any fruits of his labour (literally), but it made him feel good knowing he did something with his time at home, instead of slipping further into his mind which wasn’t always the kindest to him.

Ashton realized that when he was gardening, it was similar to songwriting in a way where all of his self doubts and fears went away and he could just pour himself into it - the reward being well worth the risk in the end.

Once his shower was done, he sat outside in his backyard, sipping his lemonade and enjoying the sunshine - realizing that having to stay home wasn’t all too bad, if it meant he could reset his mind, and do some small part to help how he could during that time.

tag list:  @haikucal​ @talkfastromance4​ @softbabiestan​ @boyfriend-cal​ @calum-uncrowned​ @wildflowerirwin​ @irwindoll​ @gosh-im-short​  @thesubtweeter​ @heavenisapeach​ @ridingcthood​ @loveroflrh​ @mantlereid​ @inlovehoodx​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​​ @g-l-pierce​ @thecurlsofgod​

[admirehermind]

Thank you @blackmissfrizzle for tagging me!

Rules: answer 30 questions and tag blogs you are contractually obligated to know better!

Name: Arielle (a-ree-ell; pronounced with the short a sound, not like the little mermaid or Ari Lennox)

Gender: female

Sign:

Height: 5’9 and it’s allllll legs

Time: 3:03pm

Favorite bands: Chloe x Halle, Rae Sremmurd, there’s more but I’m blanking.

Favorite solo acts: there’s toooo many but ima say Jhene Aiko, Chris Brown, Big Sean, SZA, Kehlani KDot, Teyana Taylor, Kendrick Lamar, Tinashe, Erykah Badu and muva JANET MS JACKSON IF YOU NASTYYY.

Last movie: watched How The Grinch Stole Christmas with my bestie last night & we realized there’s only like 2/3 black people in whoville 🥴

Last show: currently watching Real Housewives of Potomac (don’t judge me I saw some clips & became intrigued)

When did I create this blog: shiiiiiit I think it was the beginning on my senior year in high school so 09 🙃

What do I post: whatever my little heart desires. A lot of times I post the feels that I’d never post on any other social media.

Last thing I googled: who played Cindy Lou Who?

Following: 244

Followers: 1,520

Average hours of sleep: 5/6 hours but it’s rarely ever straight through 😞

Lucky number: 2 & 4 (3 is my life path # tho)

Instruments: I actually used to sing and I played the trumpet for 2/3 years in elementary school.

What am I wearing?: an old Chris Brown concert tee & yoga pants.

Dream job: I’m gonna have beauty bars/supply stores and nonprofit youth centers all over the country. I say it like that bc it’s gonna happen. I’m claiming it now.

Dream trip: Greece or Bali

Favorite food: potatoes in almost any form especially fries and mashed potatoes. Also have you ever had a sweet potato biscuit?! BOMB.COM!

Favorite song right now: there’s a few but Down Again by Jhene Aiko, Water by Kehlani & Guard Your Heart by Big Sean.

Last book I read: I read Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi about a month ago and it was sooooo GOOD! Next are Dreaming the Divine by Scott Cunningham and The Memory Keeper’s Daughter by Kim Edwards.

Top 3 fictional universes I’d like to live in:

1. The Vampire Diaries/The Originals/Legacies and they’d have either make me a vamp/witch hybrid or a tribrid like Hope. And I need a shot with Marcel cuz him fine FINE!

2. Lovecraft Country. I know for a fact I’d hate living in that particular time period but that shit was so fuckin cool especially aunt Hippolyta traveling between time and astral planes!

3. I really wanna say Game of Thrones but only if I can ride a dragon and kill the Night King. If not I’m going with Black Panther cuz who THE FUCK wants to stay in ghetto ass Amerikkka 🙄

I’m gonna tag @mayans-sauce @angelreyesgirl & @irrelevantwriter! I encourage any one who follows me to participate & if you do TAG ME!!!

[asiryn]

this post is going to be very rambly, so i apologize in advance. if you’re potentially interested in my liveblogs, and/or interested in hearing a bit about my current life and disability issues, tune in. if you aren’t, then....keep scrolling i guess XD

(if you just want the current liveblog schedule, scroll to the bottom)

[and this got predictably very long, so i’m gonna put it behind a cut for convenience] 

up to recently, my main liveblogs have been about the pokemon anime, with a few other shows, books, and especially video games sprinkled in here and there. essentially, waaaay back in yonder year of 2014, netflix added the first season of pokemon, the indigo league, to their site, and i, in a fit of nostalgia, made the veeery questionable decision to watch all of the pokemon anime---rewatching the stuff i hadn’t touched since i was kid, and then continuing on into the unknown, and watching all the seasons from gen 3 onward that i had missed due to dropping out of pokemon. i only really started actually making liveblog posts once i hit gen 3, then i stayed consistent-ish from then onward. (for the curious, i’m up to sun & moon, and i have 44 episodes left until i finish it (i’m not ready ;;;; ), and then netflix actually just dropped the first 12 episodes of the newest series, pokemon journeys, so....56 until i’ve caught up with the dub XD)

so, all of y’all who climbed aboard with those liveblogs are probably already aware of Who I Am, at least a little. (....this is making it sound like i’m Some Big Name in liveblogging, but i’m not really anything of the sort, just so we’re all on the same page XD) at least, in terms of the fact that i’m physically disabled, suffer from chronic pain, etc. but recently, i’ve joined two new fandoms, and i’ve begun liveblogging spop and my next life as a villainess. and my spop posts in particular are already becoming some of the most popular posts i’ve ever done (like wow, you guys). and i think part of that popularity is due to the fact that these are two pretty recent, pretty popular fandoms (tho i do also like to think that i do make good content XP). but the point is that quite a lot of new ppl are coming across me, and idk how much, if any, of you have taken the time to look at my bio or anything. so i guess....part of this post is just some ruminations, but also my way of letting you know more of what you’re getting into. 

so, for those who don’t know: hi, you can call me kiryn, i liveblog stuff sometimes, and i’m physically disabled. i suffer from intense, constant, chronic pain. it stems from a bone disease called HME, or hereditary multiple exostosis, if you’re curious (i have a severe case of it, joy of joys). the short version of what that means is that i have a lot of bone spurs everywhere on my body, and they....cause me a lot of pain. basically, i cannot do any kind of sustained activity without the already significant, never-ceasing pain that i feel cranking up to unbearable levels, and basically i’ll be rendered immobile. i do have pain meds that i take, and that very much help to take the edge off, and make it so that i can function at all (bc, believe fucking me, w/o them, i wouldn’t be able to achieve even the little i can do), but even with them, it only makes a dent in my pain levels, and again, sustained activity makes up that difference very quickly. 

now, the gist of this stuff i’ll mention from time to time, but....i don’t usually go into much detail about it (and this post is probably the most detailed i’ve been about my condition in years). bc, quite frankly, it’s depressing. (and seeing as i also already have clinical depression, that’s definitely not something that i need more of XD) i participate in fandoms for escapism, and bc i don’t really want to think about that crushing mountain of reality. i’ve had this condition since birth, and i’ve literally lived my entire life in constant pain, and i honestly have no fucking idea what it even feels like to be painless. and what’s even worse is that it’s a degenerative disease---essentially, the bone spurs are wearing down my joints, so....my entire condition will just keep worsening as i get older. (and no, surgery to remove the spurs isn’t really an option.) i’ll be 29 next month, and i can already tell you, i’ve been feeling that decline sharply. when i was a kid, i could still run. by the time i was a teenager, i couldn’t even do that anymore; the best i could manage was a jog. now....i don’t think i could even do that. 

i guess the main point in why i’m saying all this, is that for the last year especially, i’ve been dealing with the worst downward swing that i’ve had in years. in my late teens and early-mid 20s, i got into a pretty good rhythm, of knowing my body’s limits, how to budget spoons to accomplish things, etc. but now even that fragile equilibrium has been thrown out the window, and i’m currently struggling to learn the new limits and rhythm of this downward swing that is unfortunately now my reality. even before, i was pretty limited on what i could accomplish, but even that narrow window has shrunk even further. so basically, i’m in the testing zone still. and it’s a very slow process, bc once i exceed the limit, my body breaks down, and now it takes me even longer to recover. as an example, i used to know that i could wake up in the morning and get ready to leave the house in 20-30 mins. now? i need at least an hour, which involves me pushing through a wave of agony to be able to take my pain meds in the first place, and then wait for those meds to kick in and the pain to die down enough to move without feeling like i’m moving through a wall of spikes. (and that’s just the start of every day for me, and before even throwing in all of the other variables)

so, coming back to the liveblogs......obviously, that’s affected by all this too. if you’ve wondered why there’s been a gap between me finishing up spop s1 and starting s2....that’s why. partly, i didn’t expect how analysis-heavy i was going to get on spop; pokeani just doesn’t tend to be as consistently thematically deep, so those liveblogs took far less out of me than spop has, and pushing myself to finish 5 episodes in one day....well, it was too much. and the thing is, it’s obviously unhealthy for me to continually push myself to the point of total breakdown, so...that’s where learning my new limits comes in. so, these past few days, i’ve been thinking, and essentially trying to better figure out how to do liveblogs like this without pretty much killing myself in the process (bc i honestly do love making them....i mean, if i didn’t, then it really wouldn’t be worth the literal pain it takes to make them XD). and also there’s a component of managing my anxiety-brain, bc leaving things Unfinished stresses me out, and so when coming to terms with the fact that it’s going to take me awhile to finish one show....knowing that i’d be leaving others hanging....Doesn’t Help XD

so, here’s what i’ve got so far (and obvs, this is subject to much tweaking in the future XP)

currently, i’m watching 4 shows: pokeani, good omens, villainess, and spop. villainess rn is the least of my worries, bc 1 ep is coming out a week, so it’s not demanding a lot of my time. 

for the other 3, here’s the preliminary schedule i’ve sort of hashed out:

- pokeani sm103-106

- spop s2

- pokeani sm107-110

- spop s3 

- pokeani sm111-114

- spop s4

- pokeani sm115-118

- spop s5 

- pokeani sm119-122

- good omens

- pokeani sm123-126

- [catch up block] (i don’t have a good track record in keeping up with ongoing shows, so if i fall behind on villainess, this is where i can catch up)

- finish pokeani sun & moon [sm127-146] (the league starts on ep 128, so i’d rather not experience any big interruptions in the battles XD)

basically, i’ve given myself a limit of 4 pokeani eps in a single session (bc as stated, they don’t take as much out of me), and with spop, the most i’ll let myself watch in a row will be 3 eps (s2 will probably be broken up into a 3/2/2 block, s3 a 3/3 block, and s4&5 will be a 3/3/3/2/2 block).

now, keep in mind that i’m very deliberately making no guarantees about specific days, bc who even knows, but at the very least, scheduling and talking it all out like this will help me to better manage my spoons, and if you’ve actually read this far, then you’ll know the method in the madness and why i’m doing things this way. XD the vague goal is to get in a least 1 liveblog session a week (plus a bonus of the new villainess ep on saturdays)---at least for the shows. i’m still having to working out what i’m going to do about video games....maybe i should just go on a ‘once a week’ model for all my hobbies across the board XDD

in the next couple of days, i’ll be posting that in-depth look into all the ships of villainess (it started as me just pecking down a few thoughts while i was taking a social media break due to the Current Events, but now i’m at the point where i’m like, i’ve put too much effort into this to not post it, damn it XP), and then depending on spoons, i’ll try to start in on that schedule this week, so stay tuned for some pokeani! (again....i’ll try to hit at least 1 liveblog a week before i start trying to get more ambitious XDD)

in any case, if you have stuck through to the end, thank you very much. your support means a lot to me 💖

[virginbutstillahoe]

tagged by: @multifandom-fanatic thanks b (((:

Nickname? uhhh depends on who you ask? to my family i’m mollsburg or mill, to a few of my friends i’m moll ball and millweed.  i don’t fuckin’ know either dude lmao.

Real name? molly

Zodiac sign? aries biiiiiiiiiiiitch

Favorite musicians/groups? no particular order: ariana grande, fall out boy, mac miller, harry styles, and troye sivan.  

Favorite sports team? i don’t watch sports often but the yankees

Other blogs? nah dude i just let it all out on this guy

Do I get asks? sometimes!! i’ve gotten quite a few recently! keep ‘em comin’ i love talking to people on here!

How many blogs do I follow? i think almost 300?

Tumblr crushes? i don’t know enough people to have crushes on them lmao

Lucky number? 2

What am I wearing? a suny plattsburgh t-shirt (that’s where i go to college) and pink and blue pajama shorts bc it’s almost 2 am

Dream vacation? i just wanna go back to ireland man...or harry potter world in orlando bc i am a HUGE slut for anything hogwarts

Dream car? one that works and that i can play my tunes in

Favorite Food? almost all breakfast food except for eggs and sausage

Drink of choice? we talkin’ alcoholic or just whatever? bc alcoholic i really like any type of cider but if we’re talking just normal drinks i really love diet pepsi

Instruments? lmao nooo i tried to play the flute when i was in grade school but i got kicked out bc i couldn’t read music, whoops.

Languages? english and a pretty decent amount of french (i’m currently trying to get back into it and get fluent)

Celebrity crushes? too fuckin’ many but i’ll scratch the surface: jensen ackles, misha collins, timothee chalamet, milo ventimiglia, john mulaney, patrick demsey, jesse williams, jake johnson... i’ll stop now

Random fact? i just posted my first EVER AUDIO FILE OF MYSELF SINGING AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH i’m cool i’m not having a panic attack about it lmao but i’m trying to be braver so yeah go check it outttttttt.

thanks again for the tag @multifandom-fanatic, i’m so bored out here and i appreciate it.

tagging anyone who read this whole thing bc you’re a rockstar and also @navajolovesdestiel @green-eyes-and-classic-rock and @victorian-sexstache bc why not

[theaceace]

I call this - what if Aziraphale hadn’t managed to find a body in time for the apocalypse, AKA I wanted an excuse to make Crowley sad and drunk. There is a happy ending, which I will get around to writing soon. Ish.

Thank you to @i-swear-this-is-for-homework for listening to me ramble. At some point I’ll clean this up and put it on AO3, but today is not that day, it’s already late enough.

Follows book continuity closer than the series. 

Enjoy?

Aziraphale had been discorporated before, of course. One didn’t have a physical form for six thousand years without accumulating a little wear-and-tear1, or scratches in the paint, so to speak. It had, however, been a remarkably long time since his last jaunt through the metaphysical. Only ninety short years2 after he had turned his back on the Garden of Eden for the last time, Aziraphale had rather unfortunately found himself on the wrong end of an extremely unpleasant man with an extremely sharp dagger. Not yet knowing what would happen to him, he hadn’t thought to counter the attack, or even so much as move out of the way; after all, this was no weapon of divine or infernal design.

 So he had been in for a rather nasty shock when he found himself face-to-face with Heaven’s quartermaster and the prospect of filling out innumerable forms3 and joining a thankfully short waiting list before he could be assigned a new body.

 It had been enough to put him off the whole experience, and as such, he had endeavoured to avoid it at all costs in subsequent years.

 He had done a commendable job of it, all told. There had been a couple of instances that had required a little last-minute intervention of demonic origin, but he tried not to dwell on those too much. Not, to be clear, because he felt it was a sign of personal failure, but rather because the memory tended to give him the ethereal equivalent of heart palpitations.

 This instance had been somewhat different – for a start, the only violence had been in the form of a remarkably irate witchfinder bellowing nonsense and waving his finger around. For another, though Aziraphale had found himself unexpectedly flung from his physical form, there had been no real harm done to it4 which made for a nice change. That had been several hours and four continents ago. Now, Aziraphale was starting to feel really quite exhausted.

 It ought not to have been possible, he thought glumly to himself. After all, exhaustion was, by definition, something that happened on the material plane. Cells didn’t have enough energy or something – he’d never bothered himself with the particulars, as he’d never considered any scenario that it might apply to him. Really it should have been impossible for angels to get tired. They were fonts of divine energy, beings that existed on an utterly separate level from the concept of exhaustion.

 And yet, here he was, wherever that may be now. Exhausted. Incorporeal. No idea how much time had passed since he’d stepped into the circle, and therefore no idea just how long the world had left before it all went a bit explodey.

 As a matter of fact, though he didn’t know it at that precise moment, the world had been due some explosions approximately twelve minutes earlier, right around the time he had decided to do the metaphysical equivalent of tucking up his feet on the sofa and dozing in front of Springwatch with a cup of tea tilting precariously in his hand. He had hoped that this would go some way to restoring him to the point that he could continue looking for a suitable body to inhabit that was both receptive and at least in the same country as the antichrist.

 So far it didn’t appear to be making much of a difference, but Aziraphale was persevering nonetheless.

 He was persevering so hard, in fact, that it took him what may have been a small eternity – but was probably closer to a few seconds – to notice that he was no longer alone in the space between dimensions.

 Being that the other entity also lacked a body, and didn’t appear to be an angel, demon, or Crowley, Aziraphale was rather thrown by this.

 “Um. Hello,” he said5 finally. He didn’t really know what else to do.

 “Hullo,” said the being, in what might have been a curious voice if he had a voice, and Aziraphale had ears capable of discerning a curious tone. “What are you doing stuck all the way out here then?”

 “Ah,” said Aziraphale, in a pale imitation of his usual bluster. He found himself wishing rather desperately that he had hands with which to fuss shirt cuffs, and a throat to clear. “Well you see, that’s a rather long story, and I’m afraid we may be on something of a tight schedule – at least, I think we are, it’s rather hard to tell, but I would hope that even like this I might have noticed if things had, er, got under way.”

 “No, it’s okay, we’ve got time,” said the being. “But I think I probably know most of it already, and it’s just boring if you hafta hear the same story twice so close together. Are you Aziraphale then? ‘Cause if you’re not then I really think you should just tell me now. I’ve already got a lotta work to do, and I really do need to find this Aziraphale person. Angel. Angel-person – sorry, that’s not rude, is it?”

 “I – well, no, I don’t believe so,” Aziraphale said. He contemplated lying to the being for just a moment, but some deeply-held instinct told him just what a bad idea that would be. “And yes, I am Aziraphale.”

 “Oh, good,” this time, Aziraphale was swamped with an impression of relief. “It really would’a been a pain if I’d ‘ad to go ‘round looking for you everywhere and when.”

 “Um,” Aziraphale said blankly. He tried to take a moment to rally himself, and failed miserably. “To, to whom am I speaking?”

 “’m Adam Young,” said the voice, apparently oblivious to the tailspin this sent Aziraphale’s poor, racing mind into. “And I think you’re last on my list of things to get sorted out. First I thought I could just put you back the way you was and that’d be jus’ fine, but then I reckon’d I should probably come get you sorted m’self. ‘s tricky trying to get someone back in a body that dun’t exist when they’re not even in the right place for bodies to be.”

 “I see,” Aziraphale said faintly; he was suddenly, acutely aware of the fact that he was speaking currently to the antichrist, a being that could theoretically wipe him from this and every other plane of existence6.

 “An’ then I thought it’d be rude if I just went and stuck you back in the same body as you had, an’ din’t even ask if that body was okay for you,” Adam continued, and he somehow managed to give the impression of a wide-eyed, if not entirely earnest, stare. This was impressive given that he had no body, no eyes to widen, and no actual voice to give any sort of inflection. Aziraphale would no doubt spend a great deal of time later being appropriately impressed, when he was no longer trying to metaphysically hyperventilate.

 “Yes, yes I was rather fond of it,” Aziraphale managed. In that precise moment, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you if that was the truth or not7. He only knew that he really didn’t want to be putting in any special requests for a new body to the antichrist, who had, as far as he was able to tell, not made the world go all explodey.

 “Oh,” said Adam in something like relief. “Tha’s good. Easy, I mean. I’ll hafta drop you off where you were, though. Jus’ gimme a sec, I’ll get you all fixed up proper.”

 And it was so.

 Aziraphale opened his eyes and took a deep, unnecessary breath. He patted his hands over his coat, and tried to twist himself around to see that everything was present and correct. He thought that perhaps his coat was a little longer, his sweater a little more fitted, but it was really quite hard to tell in a body that was still relearning what synapses were.

 He turned slowly, but there was no sign of Adam – not even a lingering hint of ozone to suggest he had ever been there. He then continued turning, struck by the sudden realisation that he had no idea where on God’s green Earth he was.

 “Oh,” he said, followed swiftly by a word that may have been inappropriate in polite company – but, if there is no polite company to hear an inappropriate word fall in a forest, who’s to say if it made a sound?8

 *****

1 – In that particular instance, it had been rather more tear than wear

2 – Give or take. Functioning calendars had only existed for sixty of those years

3 – Literally – humans hadn’t invented numbers that could count that high yet

4 – Aside from the unfortunate dissembling down to the molecular level

5 – He did not speak as you or I might speak, as he lacked the mouth necessary to do so. He did not even speak as you or I might imagine a formless denizen of Heaven would speak. To properly explain how he spoke would require a number of PhDs that don’t exist on Earth and an in-depth understanding of the wavelengths that angels generally occupy outside the range of human perception, of which this author has neither

6 – He was also rapidly coming to terms with the fact that he had listed ‘child murder’ as one of the possible solutions to the problems the day had presented. Very low down the list, mind you, but still certainly present

7 – It was

8 – It did

 *****

The world had been restored for thirteen hours, and a lone demon had been drinking solidly for twelve of them. The first hour had been dedicated to transporting himself back to London, or it would have been a solid thirteen.

 Crowley couldn’t remember the last time he had been this drunk. It might have been in what would later become Croatia, in 1132 BC. It may have been just after the Library of Alexandria – ahem – was destroyed. It might have been sometime in the First World War1.

 Certainly, he thought, staring at the empty bottle in his hand with something a little like betrayal, he had never been this drunk on his own.

 And really, that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it?

 He let his head fall back against the plush pile of the rug beneath him. It didn’t make quite the satisfying thunk he’d been hoping for – more of a dull whoomf, really – so he waved unsteady fingers through the air to miracle up the delayed sound himself. That, he thought, was much better suited to his current mood.

 The bottle in his other hand had once contained a rather fine 1947 Cheval Blanc that he hadn’t tasted a single mouthful of, and now contained little more than dregs. He hadn’t bothered to get himself more bottles – only continued refilling this one every time it got too light. He’d just tried to do so again, and managed nothing more than a faint headache, so for the moment he’d abandoned the attempt.

 Crowley blinked blearily up at the ceiling, and lamented his inability to fall into a drunken coma.

 Oh, he could sleep well enough – Crowley was a champion sleeper. He was also quite proficient in naps, snoozes, dozes, and the sort of lazy Sunday afternoon in which you are sure that you were awake, yet somehow cannot produce a single piece of evidence to prove it. All of that was, unfortunately, very different from a drunken coma. They all involved being able to keep his blessed mind quiet for longer than two consecutive minutes.

 Aziraphale had been keeping this bottle back – not for any sort of special occasion, but just because it hadn’t, he’d said, felt like the right time to drink it. Aziraphale was very big on listening to those odd little feelings of his. It had been exactly where it had been kept since Aziraphale first bought it in 1948, still perfectly preserved, and Crowley’s hand shook a little when he had picked it up.

 There had been a part of him – small, but far too loud to completely ignore – that had hoped to hear the angel’s huff behind him. To have the bottle snatched away because it still isn’t time for this one, my dear, really.

 Of course, it had been only him, the bottle, and the books. He’d almost tried spilling a little wine over the first-edition Dante, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to, in the end. As satisfying as it might have been, it still seemed like a step too far. Besides, he thought to himself. Besides. It had been bad enough being allowed to drink the wine. He didn’t know what he’d do if there was no-one to stop him ruining the books2.

 Crowley’s wandering mind found itself pondering if Adam had recreated the holy sigil that Aziraphale had hidden beneath this very rug. He could find out, he supposed, then groaned as even the thought of standing made his head swim. It was harmless to him inactive, but he still didn’t like the thought of sitting atop a direct line to the big guys Upstairs.

 Even if he did have a few choice words for them.

 But then again, there was always the chance it wasn’t Heaven at all. The Metatron had looked terribly confused3 when he’d cornered them about Aziraphale on the airfield. Maybe they really hadn’t had anything to do with it. Maybe they really didn’t know what had happened.

 Which only left Downstairs, something that Crowley felt only marginally more equipped to deal with. Beyond that, there really wasn’t a terribly long list of suspects.

 Only the divine or the infernal were capable of true smiting. And if Adam hadn’t brought Aziraphale back, then that meant there was nothing left of him to bring back. It was a fairly simple progression of logic that managed to completely stall Crowley about halfway through. Six thousand years he thought bitterly. Just enough time to get used to having someone around.

 He lifted to bottle to his lips again, grimacing as he remembered his last attempt to refill it. Well, there was no rush. He had time. It wasn’t the end of the world.

 Pity, that.

 Well, no. That wasn’t fair. After all, this world had always been more or less decent to them – him. And he had just spent the last eleven years trying to make sure it could continue being decent. It would have been a terrible shame if, after all that effort, it had just gone and ended anyway.

 It was just that. That. That Crowley had always trusted in the universe to look out for him, one way or another. And he’d never quite realised that, in all of his optimism, he’d somehow included Aziraphale in that assumption. That if there was something out there in the universe watching his back – be it God, Satan, someone else, or just the natural forces of cosmic entropy – then it only made sense that it would be watching out for the angel as well.

 Crowley had been wrong about a lot of things – one of the perils of having been around since the Beginning.

 He didn’t think he’d ever been as wrong about anything as he was about this.

 “Bugger thissss,” he said, trying to sit himself back up for just a moment, before abandoning the attempt when all it did was offer him a better view of the empty room, a mug of congealed cocoa still sat on the desk, and the tartan throw on the back of the sofa that Crowley had foolishly miracled up as a joke and Aziraphale had loved without the slightest hint of shame or irony.

 “Sssshould the burn the placccce back down! ‘d sssserve you right, Zira! Leaving me to deal with the apocap – apolac – Armageddon all by mysssself! Going and getting yoursssself all, all ssssmoted!”

 Crowley waved his hand towards the general vicinity of the rest of the shop in a gesture that he thought was appropriately menacing.

 “I will! I’ll sssset fire to every one of your biblessss! You’ll, you’ll have to thwart me!”

 And nothing happened. The books didn’t catch fire. Crowley did not feel thwarted, so it was probably just that he was in no fit state to be setting fire to anything. He was too busy, he realised in a distant sort of way, making an awful keening wail as he scrunched his eyes shut as tight as he could.

 It was probably a good thing he’d been in some sort of shock on the drive back. If he’d felt anything like this, he likely would have hit multiple other road users, and then Aziraphale, from wherever he was or wasn’t, would have been exceptionally disappointed. Well, there was every chance Aziraphale was exceptionally disappointed with Crowley right now, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. If the angel wanted to judge him, he could come right on back to life and do it to Crowley’s face.

 “Why?” He moaned, from somewhere low in his throat. “What did he ever do? He wasn’t the one who, who invented original sin. He wasn’t the one who mucked up the Plan. What did he do to desssserve thissss?”

 Unless – unless that was the point. Punishment wasn’t really punishment is you didn’t exist to suffer through it. Maybe it wasn’t about Aziraphale.

 After all, Crowley was the only one suffering now.

 Both Heaven and Hell, while unimaginative, were both very keen on the ironic sorts of punishments. And while Crowley would have liked to think that a benevolent God wouldn’t approve of this sort of thing, he knew enough about the Creator – and all the things that had been going on since free will really took off – to know that God wouldn’t really care. At least, not enough to interfere.

 Ineffable, as the bloody angel would have said. Except he wasn’t here to say it now, and Crowley certainly wasn’t going to stoop so low.

 Begging on the other hand, was a low he had stooped to before, and would no doubt stoop to again.

 “Jusssst,” he started, and tried to get the hissing under control. It probably wasn’t a very polite way to address the Almighty, especially not for one of the fallen. “Jussst, please, ssend him back. He should get to ssee that hiss books are all okay, and that the world isss ssstill sssspinning. He’ssss done enough good for that. Thwarted enough wilessss. And all the onessss he didn’t were my fault, really. Ssssso bring him – jussst bring him back. I know we haven’t spoke in a really long time, and I know we aren’t on good termsss, but pleassse. For, for Zira’s ssssake, pleassse, he’sss all I’ve got left, he’sss the only good thing I still have from Heaven, pleassse-”

 His voice cracked and gave up, but Crowley didn’t notice. He kept up his pleas silently, mouth working awkwardly around a tongue just a little too long and forked to pass for human. His ears were ringing unpleasantly – either a product of the wine, or the fact that praying was always more than a little bit painful for demons.

 But the ringing in his ears just grew louder for a brief, horrible instant, before cutting out entirely.

 Had Crowley been even slightly less of a drunken, mumbling mess, he may well have realised that the ringing was actually the doorbell of the shop. He may have heard the click as the door was unlocked, or the shuffling of fine leather shoes over the mat. He may not have, of course, but we will never know for certain. The reality was, he was that drunk, and he didn’t hear any of those things. The very next thing he heard, in fact, was an aggrieved sigh, and a rather put upon tsk. Crowley didn’t have the willpower at that precise moment to lift an eyelid; but then, he didn’t have to. He was very well acquainted with that put upon tsk. His mouth stretched into something that may have resembled a smile if it hadn’t wobbled quite so much.

 “Ssssstill wassssn’t time for it then? Angel?” He asked, waving the bottle haphazardly around. A couple of drops splashed on his face, and more than a couple onto his shirt. He gestured to miracle them away, but didn’t bother to look and see if it had worked.

 “My dear, I’ve never seen you in such a state,” said a familiar voice to his left. Crowley’s grasp on the bottle slackened, and he felt it fall from between his fingers. It must have landed on the thick, soft rug somewhere beside him, because he didn’t hear it hit the floor.

 Crowley loved that rug. He could write sonnets devoted to that rug. That rug and him had been through something real over the last twelve hours.

 “I’ll take this, Crowley,” said the voice that Crowley knew better than any sound in the world, a little nonsensically.

 It wasn’t Aziraphale. Crowley knew that – had several very good arguments for it, in fact4.

 He didn’t open his eyes to check.

 There was a sensation like fingers – soft, warm, and a little bit heavenly – running over his hair. Crowley tilted his face up towards it. He may not look so much like a serpent these days, but he’d never quite managed to shake the habit of seeking out warmth. If Crowley really concentrated, he could almost muster up the familiar scent of bergamot and dust that always seemed to cling to Aziraphale’s overcoat.

 “Oh, my dear boy, what happened?” Asked Hallucination Aziraphale. “I was only gone a day.”

 “Yesssss!” Crowley hissed despite himself. “A whole – a whole blesssssed day! The firsssst day of, of, of the resssst of my life!”

 He hiccupped.

 It wasn’t a sob. Crowley didn’t sob.

 He did, however, drunkenly hiccup several times in a row, hard enough to make his chest ache and his eyes water. He swiped furiously at his face and tried to curl himself into as small a ball as possible – had he been sober enough, he might have even shrunk himself down into a little snake to curl up even smaller and tighter. Snakes didn’t have treacherous tear ducts. Snakes didn’t drunkenly imagine their dead partner gently lifting their head into a soft lap. Clearly, snakes were the superior beings, and it had only taken him six thousand years, one heartbreak, and one stage of grief to notice.

 “Well now,” the voice was somehow both kind and exasperated, a combination that Aziraphale had mastered several millennia ago, and that Crowley had clearly thought worth committing to memory. “Whatever is the matter? The world is safe, my books are all here, and don’t think I didn’t see your car outside. Anything else can be dealt with, hm?”

 Crowley shook his head wordlessly, but didn’t trust himself to open his mouth. He’d only end up hiccupping again.

 “Crowley? Can you sober up, dear?” Crowley shook his head again, but this time managed a sullen little,

 “Don’t want to be sssssober.”

 “Dare I ask why not?” Crowley had long known he was the only demon with something even approaching an imagination, but even he hadn’t realised just how good it was. He was quite certain he’d managed to get Aziraphale’s stuffy, put-upon eye-rolling spot on.

 It seemed perfectly obvious to Crowley why he should never like to be sober again, and as a hallucination of his, it should be perfectly clear to Aziraphale too. He opened one suspicious eye just a crack; just enough to see a vague outline that may have been angel-shaped with none of the defining characteristics.

 “You’ll go away if I’m ssssober,” he said wretchedly. The lap under his head jolted slightly, which was really rather rude for a hallucinatory pillow, in Crowley’s opinion.

 “I most certainly will not!” Ah, yes, the bluster. Crowley always did like tempting that out. “For a start, we’re in my shop! And if you will insist on staying drunk, I should at least like to know why on Earth you thought it was a good idea to pass out on my nice rug!”

 “Din’t pass out,” Crowley muttered sullenly, and didn’t point out that it wasn’t for a lack of trying. His brain and any products thereof would already know that, so it would be rather pointless.

 “Crowley,” said the angel warningly.

 Crowley found himself overtaken by another sudden bought of hiccups.

 “They killed my best friend,” he said, and didn’t hiss at all. The hand that had been moving gently through his hair all this time, almost unnoticed, stopped for a second and shook, before starting again.

 “Oh. I – well. I’m terribly sorry to hear that, dearest,” Aziraphale said, and there was no hint of temper in his voice. Just something a little shaky that Crowley couldn’t quite put his finger on.

 “Have you,” there was hesitance now, where there hadn’t been before. Crowley tried to reach up, in the vague direction he thought the angel’s face might be, to pat at it reassuringly. Aziraphale was de – gone. He had nothing to be hesitant about, and Crowley tried to tell him that with a few clumsy swipes of his hand against what may have been a cheek. It felt like Aziraphale was smiling, but his voice was still sad when he spoke. “Have you tried asking Adam about it? He’s really a terribly nice boy, under all of the Hellish powers.”

 Crowley managed a despondent shake of his head.

 “Silly angel,” he said, and it was fond now. He had decided, rather abruptly, that he could be as fond as he wanted. As fond as he had been for six thousand year, under it all. “Can’t bring back something that dun’t even exisssst anymore. He already fixed everythin’ elsssse.” He leaned up a little, and whispered, like it was some great secret,

 “I even assssked Death.” He spoke over Aziraphale’s squawk of you what? “And y’know what he ssssaid? That it wassssn’t hissss jurissssdiction anymore!”

 It had seemed something of a win-win at the time. Either Death could do something about it, or he would be annoyed enough by Crowley’s asking to do something else – at that point, Crowley hadn’t been too picky. But it seemed his luck had run out – his optimistic streak had carried him as far as it was able, and not an inch further.

 “Would you tell me about them?” Aziraphale asked after a long moment of silence. His voice small, and tight, and something about it struck Crowley as wrong, but his brain was far too slippery to grasp what it was. “They must have been something truly special, to go to all that trouble. It might – help. Help you, I mean.” Crowley thought this through hazily, before nodding. He wasn’t sure if it really made sense or not, but he was willing to trust that Aziraphale would know more about this sort of thing than him.

 “Known ‘m since – sssince – forever. Before time was a thing,” Crowley said. “Could alwaysss count on him. And we din’t have a lot in common, but we had all the important bitsss! And bessssides, you get used to people being around that long.”

 Aziraphale laughed, a little uncomfortably.

 “Well now, you don’t need to tell me that, my dear,” he said.

 “But I do!” This, suddenly, seemed extremely important. Crowley pushed himself into a popstion that could be described as upright, if one were feeling particularly generous5, and peered unsteadily into the hallucination’s eyes for the first time. They looked exactly like Aziraphale’s, complete with the little golden flecks that always caught the light no matter which way he turned. Bless it but Crowley was good.

 “I never told you when you were alive, and now you’ve gone and got yourself smited, so I’ll never get to tell you again!”

 He had the singular pleasure of watching Aziraphale’s eyes widen, and a flood of colour rush up his cheeks, but didn’t pause to appreciate the sight, steamrolling over any of Aziraphale’s attempts to talk.

 “You were -! You were -! Huffy, and you had terrible taste in clothes, and I don’t underssssstand what’ssss so great about Classic FM that you thought it had to be the only blessed channel you can get all over the country no matter how bad the ssssignal is, and sssometimes I hiss my words just because I know it makessss you smile, and I’ve never unkilled a duck for anyone else, and none of it mattersss because Heaven or Hell or ssssomeone decided to off you, and now I’m sssstuck here on my own waiting for the next go-around!”

 It was quiet for a long time. Long enough for Crowley to slump back into the hallucination’s lap and close his eyes again. They really were so heavy, and sore after the hiccups made them water so much.

 “I really do think,” Aziraphale said finally, “that you ought to sober up.”

 Crowley didn’t dignify that with a response beyond tightening his grip on the angel’s calf.

 “It would be in both our best interests?”

 Still not worth a reply.

 “For me?”

 That made him pause a little, before shaking his head definitively no.

 “Oh, for the love of – someone.” The next thing Crowley knew, he was up on his feet, through no effort or will of his own. There were a pair of arms wrapped rather solidly around his shoulders, and his feet didn’t want to move separately, apparently rather stuck on the idea that they used to be a tail. His face was pressed heavily against a soft shoulder though, so Crowley didn’t complain, even when the wool tickled at his nose. He had the vague feeling that he was being led somewhere, but he’d be redeemed if he could figure out where.

 “Here we are,” Aziraphale muttered, right before he dropped Crowley onto what felt like a bed – just the right side of springy, with a thread count that was honestly sinful. Crowley appreciated it for an all-too-brief second before he found himself gripped by panic.

 He surged up, and halfway off the bed before Aziraphale caught him again.

 “Nuh – no!” If Crowley lay down in a bed, then he would go to sleep. If Crowley went to sleep, then he would wake up sober. If he woke up sober, then Aziraphale would be gone. “Nonono.”

 “Yes,” Aziraphale’s voice was firm, though his hands were soft as anything where they were untangling Crowley’s from his lapels. “You need a good night’s sleep my dear, and to face the morning with a clear head. I promise you it’ll all seem much brighter.”

 Crowley shook his head where it was mashed against the side of Aziraphale’s neck. The neck in question moved a little as Aziraphale sighed.

 “Would it help if I stayed with you?” He asked.

 That… gave Crowley pause. He hadn’t thought of that. If the hallucination stayed with him while he slept, and Crowley held on tightly enough – well, he was pretty solid now. As long as Crowley didn’t move a single muscle as he slept6 then it should be fine.

 There was something amiss with that logic, but exhaustion had crept up on him like a snake in the grass, and Crowley found himself being lowered back to the bed once more, this time unresistingly.

 “There you are,” was the last thing Crowley heard as he slipped off to sleep. He had just enough time to congratulate himself on miracling up such a comfortable bed – he’d even managed to permeate the pillows with Aziraphale’s scent, which he desperately pressed his nose into now – before he was swept away7.

 *****

1 – In fact it was none of these, for the simple reason that Crowley had never been this drunk before in his very long existence

2 – Well, no, that’s not entirely accurate. He did know what he would do. He was just trying very hard not to think on it too long, when he knew that Aziraphale would disapprove most vehemently

3 – Insofar as a being with no face made of holy fire can look confused

4 – The arguments went as follows:

·        Aziraphale had been smited. Smote? Smiten?

·        Aziraphale would never approve of Crowley’s deep love for this rug

·        Aziraphale had never, in six thousand years, sounded quite so fondly exasperated, and he wouldn’t have started now

·        Aziraphale was dead

·        Aziraphale hadn’t started nagging him about the wine

·        Aziraphale hadn’t mentioned the new books that Crowley had noticed Adam stocked

·        Aziraphale wasn’t coming back

5 – As well as a little hazy on the meaning of the word ‘upright’

6 – Which was, fortunately, how he naturally slept anyway

7 – Had he stayed awake any longer, he would have realised that not even he would have miracle up such a hideous quilt cover. He also would have felt the careful, cleansing touch of a kiss against his forehead to keep away bad dreams – though demons have no other kind. But he did not stay awake, and so he noticed nothing.

[lewyn-martell]

rules: answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you want to know better

tagged by @laurels-things thanks! you seem like such a nice person!

i. nickname?

lui or simply lu

ii. zodiac sign?

scorpio

iii. height?

165 cm... I'm not sure if I'm below average height on my country, but I believe brazillian people are pretty short. I may be the shortest amongst the boys in my class but I'm the tallest amongst the girls (except one girl who is nearly 180cm i stg) and as a nonbinary person this is a good place to be, i think.

iv. hogwarts house?

hufflepuff :D

v. last thing I googled?

amongst or among — i was unsure if i was using the word correctly sjbshsbshsvs

vi. fav musicians?

THE BEATLES (all 4 of them, but john lennon speaks to my soul in ways i can't describe... the way he makes me feel is something out of this world)

david bowie

elton john

brendon urie from panic! at the disco

the boys from green day

aaand i have mad respect for some soundtrack musicians bc i eat these up constantly. i like ramin djwadi, michael giacchino, ennio morricone, danny elfman, jonny greenwood (yeah i know he's from radiohead but i haven't listened a lot of stuff from this band yet and his phantom thread compositions are SUCH A BOP), hans zimmer and i've been also listening to the score of the shape of water by alexandre desplat (i like him, but jonny greenwood was ROBBED) so maybe that'll be a future fave. also i love a lot of composers for disney animated musicals but if i start i won't ever shut up. but i love almost all of the disney soundtracks.

i would say some time ago whoever wrote the songs for the smiths which i believe includes morrisey, but i recently found out he is extremely right wing and i don't think i can still like someone with these kinds of inhumane views on people&society... i'm disappointed

vii. song stuck in your head?

currently bad boy (the beatles' cover of the song), john's vocals make my pulse speed up since the first verse

viii. following?

2234 nfbdjdbjdsbjshs but i think most of the people i followed years ago are no longer active, i must go through the list and try to do a spring cleaning or something

ix. followers?

408... and like half of these i gained only the last two months or something... and i don't know why shdbsjbshsbs maybe it's the beatles thing

x. do you get asks?

i don't, but that's ok because i don't know if i have a lot of interesting things to say... but if you wanna get something off your chest, go ahead, i love to listen to/read drama 👀

xi. amount of sleep?

tricky question because it constantly changes, sometimes i don't sleep at all bc i have to leave the house at 5h20 in the morning to go to uni and i stay awake until late and when i realize i have to go shower already dhsbshbshsvshs and then when i come back i sleep for like... 10 hours or smth or i don't bc i got stuff to do and i accumulate sleep and then there will be a day of the week i'll just shut down for 15 hours. mostly i try to go to bed around 23h and wake up around 4h45, so that makes it almost 6 hours .

xii. lucky number?

never noticed any particular number that favors me

xiii. what are you wearing?

t-shirt, shorts, it's hot as hell here

xiv. dream job?

don't have one, just want one that won't consume me so i have time to do stuff i'm actually interested in

xv. dream trip?

also don't have one

xvi. instruments?

flute, some percussion, some guitar, i wish i had actually studied music besides the basic stuff... i still wanna learn to properly play something and not just beat some bongos during carnival

xvii. languages?

portuguese, english, bit of spanish only cause of the similarities with portuguese and 4 years of classes in middle school...but still, can't speak or write, only read and listen

xviii. favorite songs?

oh my god... ok...

i was making this in list format but it got way too big... it's still big i'm sorry

the beatles: i want you (she's so heavy), strawberry fields forever, across the universe, oh! darling, and your bird can sing, tomorrow never knows, mother nature's son, yer blues, golden slumbers, i am the walrus, i me mine, long tall sally (little richard cover), you can't do that, what you're doing, ticket to ride, rain, eleanor rigby, happiness is a warm gun, i'm so tired, blue jay way, for you blue, in my life, anna go to him (cover).

david bowie: time, cygnet committee, unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed, tvc15, life on mars, young americans, queen bitch

panic! at the disco: that green gentleman, she had the world, build god then we'll talk, nearly witches, emperor's new clothes, bittersweet, nine in the afternoon, northern downpour, behind the sea, stall me, the piano knows something i don't know

green day: jesus of suburbia, brutal love, hitchin a ride, blood sex and booze, give me novacaine, whatsername, last night on earth

the smiths: this charming man, panic, how soon is now

elton john: goodbye yellow brick road, bennie and the jets, rocket man

queen: somebody to love, killer queen

strawberry swing - coldplay

welcome home - radical face

joão e maria - chico buarque

barbara rose - jonny greenwood

bachianas brasileiras no 5 - heitor villa-lobos

le festin - michael giacchino, camille

rains of castamere - ramin djwadi

unchained melody - a lot of versions from a lot of artists

another day - paul mccartney

meu erro - paralamas do sucesso

flor de lis - djavan

love the way you lie - rihanna&eminem

man! i feel like a woman - shania twain

xix. random fact?

well, it's not really a fact i think... i'm moving (again) but this time is to my father's house because my mum is moving to the south of the country... and i'm so fucking scared because we aren't close at all (i met him when i was 14) i mean, he seems nice enough, all of our interactions have been mostly pleasant but his wife (and probably he himself too) is a bit conservative in the brazillian traditional white family way (she's white cause she's a southern. i know yall think all latinos are poc,,,, but that's not true) but then again, that's something i had to live with all my life so i can handle casual homophobia and racism and sexism... but it will still be so weird cause i never been away from my mum too long (i'm... a momma's boy). i'm going next week i think, wish me luck.... (also he's got two dogs who won't leave me the fuck alone, i get out of the shower and they drool all over me, they know i'm a beta so they keep getting on top of me and since they're HUGE and i'm such a weakling i can't even get them off me and i can't scold them with a strong voice, i just can't do it... i mean, don't get me wrong i like them... but... they like me way too much and keep making me dirty.. i hate being dirty)

xx. aesthetic?

farm aesthetic..... idealistic farm aesthetic habshabaha like marie antoinette's pettit chateau. also the whole pretty odd aesthetic and strawberry swing by coldplay aesthetic

i'm tagging (probably less than 21 ppl) @zutaralesbian @ekscelsior @benstolemyhearty @lannistermartell @tyrionlannysters @avatars-legend @cerseiofhouselannister @falconsredwing @gendryayaya @glittering-snowfall @agirlandabeast @bugband @alittlebigpotato @vairemelde @charmeilon @jawn-lemon @antilennon @im-only-sweeping @ssimsass

i hope tumblr actually notifies you guys, i had problems with the last one...

[bythewoodsitgrows]

would u do the whole "unique" questions ask game 👀👀 if not just 1-6 :)

i Love answering questions, so ofc i will answer all of them ghfjshdjkgd. i think you mean these? i couldn’t find asks that said “unique” on them that i’ve reblogged recently so... idk! but thank you

(hopefully these are the right ones, if not pls yell at me which ones to answer and i’ll take myself out behind the shed)

1: Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? / closed oh my god, if there’s a murderer i don’t wanna know

2: Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel? / nah, they usually aren’t good for my hair and i’m very particular

3: Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out? / tucked up under my feet!

4: Have you ever stolen a street sign before? / no but i’ve absolutely thought about it

5: Do you like to use post-it notes? / yessss

6: Do you cut out coupons but then never use them? / i def use them if i cut them out

7: Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees? / i would rather be attack by a bear bc it’s one thing versus like 500 things

8: Do you have freckles? / yes! i love them

9: Do you always smile for pictures? / yah pretty much! that or a funny face

10: What is your biggest pet peeve? / people who i dont know just... touching me. or people who don’t follow store rules

11: Do you ever count your steps when you walk? / noppeeee 

12: Have you ever peed in the woods? / god no

13: What about pooped in the woods? / no 

14: Do you ever dance even if theres no music playing? / i am Always Wiggling

15: Do you chew your pens and pencils? / nah, i chew my mouth

16: How many people have you slept with this week? / none

17: What size is your bed? / right now its a queen

18: What is your Song of the week? / how do you sleep by sam smith, i love them so so so much

19: Is it okay for guys to wear pink? / yes its just a color

20: Do you still watch cartoons? / i dont watch much of anything tbh

21: Whats your least favorite movie? / chucky. any chucky movie.

22: Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some? / the bottom of the sea

23: If you’re a girl, bra size? If you’re a guy, pants size? / i’m neither. my hat size is large

24: What do you dip a chicken nugget in? / ketchup or sweet n sour sauce!

25: What is your favorite food? / mustard and pickles, gag

26: What movies could you watch over and over and still love? / i have seen resident evil: apocalypse and ocean’s 8 about a million times each. also ponyo and spirited away

27: Last person you kissed/kissed you? / the last person to kiss me on the lips shall not be named

28: Were you ever a boy/girl scout? / nopeee

29: Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine? / uhh, nah, i don’t think i would

30: When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper? / it’s been a while. i want to do that again

31: Can you change the oil on a car? / i don’t even know where to begin

32: Ever gotten a speeding ticket? / no, i got a parking ticket once though

33: Ever ran out of gas? / not that i can remember

34: Favorite kind of sandwich? / philly cheesesteak beechhh

35: Best thing to eat for breakfast? / biscuits and gravy, with bacon and orange juice

36: What is your usual bedtime? / around 1 am, best case scenario

37: Are you lazy? / no i have executive dysfunction issues

38: When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween? / i just loved any reason to wear my cape lol

39: What is your Chinese astrological sign? / i am an earth rabbit!

40: Are you horny? / dhjalhgfjg wild question. sometimes?

41: Do you have any magazine subscriptions? / nope. i used to be subscribed to gameinformer tho

42: Which are better legos or lincoln logs? / legos! but the big ones, not the little ones

43: Are you stubborn? / yes.

44: Who is better…Leno or Letterman? / gag me

45: Ever watch soap operas? / yesyesyes i used to LOVE watching k-dramas

46: Are you afraid of heights? / not especially

47: Do you sing in the car? / yes 

48: Do you sing in the shower? / yes yes

49: Do you dance in the car? / yes yes yes

50: Ever used a gun? / nope, and i don’t want to 

51: Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? / when i was graduating high school

52: Do you think musicals are cheesy? / i want to BE in a musical, i love them. yes they are cheesy

53: Is Christmas stressful? / yeahhh

54: Ever eat a pierogi? / a wot

55: Favorite type of fruit pie? / apple or cherry

56: Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? / i wanted to be a pediatrician for the longest time

57: Do you believe in ghosts? / yes.

58: Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? / constantly, all the time

59: Take a vitamin daily? / yep!

60: Wear slippers? / oh yeah

61: Wear a bath robe? / nope, they’re not comfy

62: What do you wear to bed? / either a hoodie and shorts, or just shorts

63: First concert? / green day, revolution radio tour in 2016 or 2017!

64: Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? / target! i love kmarts though

65: Nike or Adidas? / adidassss

66: Cheetos Or Fritos? / cheetos!

67: Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? / peanuts but only boiled, otherwise sunflowers

68: Ever hear of the group Tres Bien? / i don’t know her

69: Ever take dance lessons? / in elementary school!

70: Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? / not really? probably something similar to whatever i end up doing i guess?

71: Can you curl your tongue? / yes ;)

72: Ever won a spelling bee? / nope, always close but no cigar

73: Have you ever cried because you were so happy? / yah all the time

74: Own any record albums? / nope

75: Own a record player? / nope

76: Regularly burn incense? / yes! i love it

77: Ever been in love? / yes. it’s a really lovely feeling.

78: Who would you like to see in concert? / lana del rey or allie x currently

79: What was the last concert you saw? / some tribute band to some other band, i can’t remember right now. but the guitarist threw his guitar pick in my shirt, so that was fun

80: Hot tea or cold tea? / both!

81: Tea or coffee? / both!

82: Sugar or snickerdoodles? / sugar!

83: Can you swim well? / not that well, but i probably won’t drown

84: Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? / yep! for a while, about 2-3 minutes

85: Are you patient? / depends

86: DJ or band, at a wedding? / a band sounds so nice

87: Ever won a contest? / yeah! a writing one, forever ago

88: Ever have plastic surgery? / oof no

89: Which are better black or green olives? / olives are a sin

90: Can you knit or crochet? / i can do both! but i prefer crochet

91: Best room for a fireplace? / the livingroom? would it be anywhere else?

92: Do you want to get married? / yes, someday.

93: If married, how long have you been married? / i’m not

94: Who was your HS crush? / i was too busy breaking and getting my heart broken to have crushes that mattered

95: Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way? / no, ofc not

96: Do you have kids? / nope!

97: Do you want kids? / idk! i don’t think i want to have them myself, if i ever do

98: Whats your favorite color? / green and purple

99: Do you miss anyone right now? / god, i miss so many people. i just moved, so i miss basically everyone in my life.

[rxmvns-a]

↪ choi san. he/him. cis male. ╱ i thought i saw roman jeong getting questioned by the police. the twenty year old is in their third year at west bridge studying film. they were at manon’s party because he was supposed to be picking a friend up but couldn’t find them. do you think they had something to do with her death? + the scent of freshly brewed coffee, polaroids scattered on a bedroom wall, pushing people around in shopping carts at 2am. 

hi, friends! i’m dri (nineteen, she/her, pst), and being extremely tardy is just integral to who i am as a person, i guess ! i’ve been really busy with my team this week in particular, but i’m here now, hello ! so, anyway, here’s my boi roman — he’s a mess, but i’m excited to bring him to y’all ! if you’re interested in plotting connections, feel free to im me or hmu on d*scord pray for dri’s kneecaps#7258 (where i would be Way easier to reach) !

c://roman_jeong//quick_stats.txt

full name: roman jeong / jeong jinwoo (정진우)

nickname: rome

age: twenty

pronouns: he/him, cis male

orientation: bisexual

zodiac: scorpio

place of birth: san jose, california

c://roman_jeong//history.txt

born in san jose, california, roman lived with his parents and little sister clarissa until the age of eight, when his mom left them in pursuit of an old flame from high school that she apparently never got over. their dad tried to raise them for maybe… a few months… before realizing he had close to no parenting ability. rome and clarissa were sent to live with their rich aunt in wisconsin, and they’ve been there ever since.

listen… their aunt turned out to be a Helicopter Mom to them and it was… super suffocating, especially to roman. she expected so much out of them and tried to force her own dreams onto them but he was just Not Feeling It. he’d always hit her with the “ur not even my real mom” line. despite being a rather intelligent dude with a relatively quick wit, he put the bare minimum into school (especially around the halfway point in high school) … but still lowkey wanted to do well. he was the guy who always found a way to get test answers inconspicuously and found ways to work around the turnitin system, ya feel? tl;dr: smart and capable, but incredibly unmotivated

when he was fifteen, he found out (while eavesdropping on one of his aunt’s phone calls) that his dad had gotten remarried and had twins with his new wife, a girl and a boy. furious over the fact that this was kept a secret from him for two years, he went to rant about it to his sister, who told him that they should just keep pretending like they don’t know. roman suddenly couldn’t hear, and during dinner that night, he brought it up and it was an angsty time.

after this revelation, he began Acting Out more because he hated the idea that their dad just sent them away almost like it was nothing but ended up raising an entirely new family of his own afterward. it started to feel like it was him and his sister against the world, and even to this day he would do anything for her. he got into fights a lot in high school because he gets defensive and doesn’t know when to Stop. his temper is… so short…

he took a photography class his junior year high school and just… really enjoyed it?? it was practically the only class he actually wanted to Try in. his teacher noticed this, and they ended up being pretty close. when rome wasn’t out messing around, he spent a lot of time hanging in the classroom and talking about life and photography. probably the One adult he respected, but his teacher ended up moving to new york shortly after he graduated high school. it felt like he was being abandoned once again (yikes!!!) even tho he knew it had nothing to do with him.

but yeah, for the past few years, roman has just been studying film (his aunt thinks he’s there for engineering but he did a switchy switch... haha keep it a secret!), doing freelance photography on the side, and fuckin’ shit up ! his sister is currently going to school in california, and her decision to attend berkeley lowkey rubbed him the wrong way since it’s relatively close to where their dad lives and he doesn’t want thim to reach out to clarissa or anything because he’s supposed to be dead to them.

c://roman_jeong//personality.txt

people think roman comes off as intimidating, but they’re not entirely wrong. he takes a while to warm up to people, and even then, he doesn’t have a lot of actual friends.

he doesn’t express it often, but he would literally do anything for his sister and close friends. can be incredibly protective. no kidding, his sister has complained that people didn’t want to date her because they were afraid of him KJDHGDSG

you know that friend who is able to find a persons facebook page and essentially everything about them with very, very minimal information given? yeah, that’s roman. he :// lowkey keeps up with his dad through facebook bc all of his wife’s posts are public :// he looks at posts of their family and just Suffers… it’s so bad!!!

he is the type of person that won’t share his own food but eats other people’s.

listen… you didn’t hear it from me… but he’s really just a softie… he’s just scared

doesn’t know what it’s like not to hold a grudge

acts on impulse and emotion often

c://roman_jeong//fun_facts.txt

can and will argue about the superiority of ice cream over frozen yogurt

has an emotional connection to cats and will stop to pet one; also has a cat and he loves her with his entire being

is sustained by coffee and sarcasm; drinks his coffee black

romcoms are his guilty pleasure tho they lowkey make him feel a sort of longing

his bedroom wall is covered in polaroids, which are of his friends, scenery, and neighborhood stray cats! but mostly his friends. he loves taking pictures of his friends :/ he also loves the idea of polaroids capturing a singular moment unlike how digital cameras can be used to get the Perfect Shot after like… 30 tries

has that one second every day app

mildly allergic to bananas but didn’t realize it until he asked a friend if they liked the tingly feeling they get when they eat bananas

pushing people around in shopping carts at 2am/being pushed is one of his favorite pastimes

“u can’t wear thrasher unless u can deepthroat an entire skateboard” is his instagram bio and he thinks thrasher elitists can choke. bought all of his friends black thrasher hoodies for christmas in an act of spite.

going off of that, he started saying “sk8 or die” ironically but now he can’t stop

will look you in the eyes when he holds a conversation; this is sometimes terrifying bc it rly looks like he’s staring into your SOUL but tbh he just be like that

can solve rubix cubes very fast!! when he was 13 he once spent an entire night studying rubix cube algorithms online bc he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t solve one

walks fast DGJHGS like slow down speed racer where r u goin

c://roman_jeong//that_night.txt

rome didn’t even want to Be at the party, let alone get entangled in the Big Mess

he showed up around 15 minutes before they found manon’s body, only in the area to pick up niko after receiving a phone call

he went inside to seek him out, but little did he know what would take place 5 minutes later.

he finds it kinda unfair (and shitty karma) that he was brought into everything... but then again, a girl Died, so he doesn’t really have the right to complain.

[jiminnamoro]

get to know me tag!!♡ i was tagged by @xlilybebe thank you bebè!!

How tall are you? I might be short but my dick is as long as my arm (im 160 cm on a good day cmon)

What color and style is your hair? oh man, I'm naturally blonde- a dark, grey-sh kind of blonde? rn my hair is dark pink w blue tips, a wavy mess that i sometimes straighten but ehh I dye it so often that ppl are confused when they see me :(

What color are your eyes? blue/grey 

Do you wear glasses? of course, have y'all ever seen me without glasses ?? ew 

Do you wear braces? nope

What’s your fashion sense? i have no idea sdfghd I generally dress casual chic, but i genuinely like to dress up on particular occasions !!! the more feminine, the better (im in love w dresses n high heels but also w harnesses n flannels n converse n see through t-shirts n oversized sweaters im a mESS)

Full name? my name’s silvia !! please dont call me sylvia :( my middle name is luisa bc its my grandmas name but its just. a church thing, u know? I never use it 

When were you born? april 14th 1996

Where are you from and where are you now? born and raised here in piacenza, italy!! its a tiny small baby town near milan

What school do/did you go to? both elementary school and middle school were v basic I guess? as for high school, I attended a cookery school where I got my diploma and now uhh I'm a baker/pastry chef 

Favorite Subject? italian literature and english were my fav subjects!! I was v good at them 

Favorite TV shows? the x files bc. aliens

Favorite Movie(s)? my fav movie has to be dracula untold!! and also doctor strange and weekend at bernies and five feet apart!!! I generally like romantic movies tbh 

Favorite Book? /slams fist on the table/ d r a c u l a who is also my dad

Do you have any regrets? i dont think so?? as a stubborn bitch, I've done a bunch of things and idk those experiences made me the person I am now so I dont think I have regrets 

Dream job? the one I already have!! I like being a pastry chef, just not @ the place I currently work at

Would you ever like to be married? who would even think about marrying me dude lets be real no ones gonna put a ring on my freaking finger anytime soon

Would you like kids? no no no no no no

How many? z ero nada nessuno no thanks

Do you like shopping? i do like shopping!! especially online shopping :( so I dont have to feel bad when I'm trying on clothes that. dont fit. I also hate dealing w shop assistants bc I cannot say no so I always end up buying a shit ton of stuff I dont need sigh 

What countries have you visited? germany, austria, switzerland, france, england, the netherlands and my own country obv

The scariest nightmare you’ve ever had? the scariest nightmare happens every single time I wake up n I have to look at myself in the mirror thats. a real fucking nightmare lemme tell ya

Any enemies? uhh uhhhhhh i dont know :(

Self-doubt? thats my second name 

Any significant other? im too ugly to have that 

Do you believe in miracles? hell yea 

How are you? i dont wanna talk about it sdfghfs

[fubukimori]

Lift-of-the-ground hug

Basicly it was going to be not longer than one page silly attempt at writing in English, but I’ve got carried away a bit ^^” This is dedicated to @crazy-bone-lady​ (Nevia belongs to her), bc she is a nice person dragged me into a bunch of cool people in my current fundom, where I was introduced to so many cool characters i would never know by myself. I really aprechciate this ^^ Since Nevia is my favorite one, I decided to write something she inqluded. I hope i didn’t mischaracter her ^^” (im also willing to write something like this with ataric but not really sure if i capable of that)

Also a reminder that I’m not an English-speaking person, so my apologies to you if you find this writing full of mistakes of different kinds (still need to figure out how to put direct speech into shape properly). I warned ya ;3

It was awfully early in the morning. Barely a few people were slumberly heading to their work places to get prepared for the daily Tower routine. Guardians are rarely wandering here that early, even commander Zavala wasn’t  here yet. Nevertheless Fubuki was already on her feet, cheerful and vivacious after a good “two hours nap” which started yesterday noon and ended just an hour ago. Deserted Tower seemed so nice and unnatural so she was just strolling around, humming random melodies and enjoying the absence of croudy guardians while looking for the perfect place to sit and crochet the shawl she’d promised to Ikora.

Passing by the lord Shaxx’s survey point and obviously finding him here, already boisterous and loud, Fubuki noticed someone on the place commander Zavala usually stood. The Warlock’s poor eyesight didn’t allow her to recognize who was that person, so she called her Ghost out to help. “Ori, who is that over there?” she asked, pointlessly squinting at the stranger. Should’ve taken her glasses. “Oh, that is Nevia. That huntress from the Crucible”.

Usually lord Shaxx doesn’t match kinderguardians like Fubuki with fabled veterans of the Crucible, but some time ago he decided to give everyone a challenge, mixing up together guardians completely randomly. Most of the youngsters immediately started complaining about unfair difficulty since they were supposed to face and fight guardians way more skilled than themselves. Fubuki on a counterverse liked the idea of the challenge, but after some matches, where opponents were literally wiping floor with her, she almost gave up and decided to avoid the Crucible this week. “Just another one and I’m done with this humiliation” she thought, heading to the Nessus special fighting arena. This time was just like the others - she died and died and died… Almost crushed enough to explode and rage quit the match, Fubuki saw an opponent Titan, already speeded up enough to smash fragile warlock against the wall with their shield bash, but suddenly she felt a firm grab at her wrist and then was pulled behind the pillar next to her. Titan’s shield bash slammed loudly against the wall. Fubuki got panicked and threw her pulse grenadine towards the Titan’s direction. Confused Defender shrinked back, but wasn’t fast enough. In a split second Fubuki saw a cloak in front of her and then a flashy sword swing. The Titan clutched his chest plate with a shaky hand then dropped dead on the ground.

“Hey!” the cloak person turned back to an unusually speechless Warlock, brushing blood off their Quickfang. “Watch out where you are daydreaming, nerd!” Huntress barked and headed forward, searching for the other enemies. Fubuki followed her since she had always been told to stick with teammates in the Crucible, especially if they were actually capable of killing others.

Huntress seemed completely unbothered by a “never asked to be” companion, she was concentrated on winning this particular match. When she went through a giant stone arch in the middle of the arena, there was an unexpected foe. Another Hunter was hiding behind, squatting with Tractor cannon. Fubuki was shadowing her, so she met with this enemy Hunter face to face, while he was attempting to finish powerless opponent. Before he managed to shoot down Fubuki in a close range, she slapped him with an Arc charge, hurting him just enough to be finished with a single shoot in the head from the Huntress’ hand cannon. A perfect team work, yet absolutely spontaneous. Fubuki placed a healing rift, recovering the Huntress from that dirty trick. “Thanks” the only thing the Huntress said, reloading her magazine. Fubuki just nodded silently.

“I see you’ve got a little friend, Nevia, hahaha! Mind you, Fubuki, Nevia is a great warrior, but a terrible teacher!” lord Shaxx had been satisfied seeing twenty kills in a row by one of his favorite Crucible fighters and was praising their duo for the last five minutes. Nevia was doing most of the work, when Fubuki was putting all the effort to support her, providing healing, Arc souls and grenades, hitting the right spot barely half of all the times. When the match was over and everyone headed to collect rewards, Fubuki finally got a chance to have a good look at her savior. She was surprisingly very short woman, an Awoken just like Fubuki herself, with a severe gaze and short shaved head. “H-hey!” Fubuki exclaimed with her voice shaking of excitement, though the frown look she gained from the Huntress made her feel chill crawling on her back. Nevia looked up and down at the Warlock and then raised her brow. “Oh, it’s you”. The Huntress had probably recognized messy Crucible Warlock’s armor colored in Metroshift which Fubuki had been wearing during the match, her gaze softened a bit. It immediately brought a delighted expression back on the Warlock’s face. “Yes, it is me, your faithful support from the last match, hahaha!” she responded with a rather high-pitched voice. That’s what she does when she is excited or nervous. “I just hope I was not bothering you”

“Nah, you did fine”

“Hope so. By the way, your name is Nevia, right? I am Fubuki, it was a pleasure to fight alongside with such skilled guardian!”

“Hah, thanks”

Seeing the Huntress wasn’t really in the mood for a chatter, the Warlock got a move on with finishing this little pep talk. “Well, we are doubtedly matching in the next one, so, um… Good luck. May the Traveler's Light shine upon thee” she made a profound bow, spreading her hands in a proper Warlock’s sign of gratitude.

“The same goes for you” Nevia raised her hand, a shadow of a smile on her face. ”See you around”

From now on, Fubuki was meeting Nevia in the Tower sometimes. Every time the Awoken met each other, Fubuki waved her hand in a greeting, Nevia responded with a simple nod. Sometimes they shared a word or two. Amicable Warlock would love to make friends with this gloomy Huntress, but she seemed not really into making friends with anyone, so Fubuki was trying hard at least don’t be obtrusive. However, being in such a good mood, she decided to make a move. Fubuki jumped in the air and glided toward Nevia. Noiselessly landed behind the short Huntress, way taller Warlock grabbed her and then lifted of the ground in a snapshot. “Heya, Nevia!” she cheery exclaimed, holding tiny Huntress on her arms. “Glad to find you here tod…”

In the next few minutes Fubuki learned several lessons. First, never ever mess with Hunters before they are finished with their morning coffee. Second, if you’d spooked them or spilled their coffee, no matter how high you can jump or how many times you cried “I’m sorry!”, you’ll get stabbed. If you’d done both, it is for sure.

Fubuki was always the one learning in a hard way.

When Ori revived her, lord Shaxx, who had seen all the scene, was still laughing, definitely already bursting in tears, if only there was no helmet on his head. Nevia was already missing. “That...wasn’t such a good idea” Ori concluded. Fubuki didn’t say a word to him, only cursed to herself in several languages.

At the end of the day Fubuki was tired and really unhappy. She still felt guilty for the morning incident, and also very stupid. “You must always think first, you stupido. Now she is probably thinking I am mental or something” she rumbled to herself, heading to the vault. “Well, guess I deserved it anyway”

“Hey”

Fubuki didn’t hear someone approaching, so a sudden voice from behind made her flinch. It was Nevia staying behind with her her arms crossed on her chest. “Oh, em… Hi” Fubuki didn’t expect the Huntress to get close to her after she pissed her off. There was an awkward silence for a moment. “That… wasn’t very wise of you. You have to make sure this won’t happen again” she said, shifting from one feet to another. “I know, I am really sorry!” Fubuki exclaimed in response. “I… I just get really childish sometimes, I really do sorry for that”

“Yeah, and I could have played it cooler” Nevia said, lifting her gaze up to the Warlock. “Dammit, why are you such a pole?”

“I… I do not know. I was like this from, well, from the very beginning” the Warlock was a little frustrated, but it seemed the Huntress wasn’t pissed off anymore. And she kinda… made an apology too?

“So, no hard feelings, right?” Nevia asked, her face was less frown than usual. “Absolutely!” Fubuki responded with a wide smile on her face. The Huntress hold out her hand, the Warlock immediately shook it. “Glad we are cool now” she said, squeezing Huntress’ smaller palm. “If you ever need help with, well, some abstruse thing or maybe will need a medical advice, you can always call me for it”

“Sure, thanks. We should go outside the Walls someday” Nevia responded with a smug smirk. “Someone is gonna teach you not daydreaming right in the middle of the battlefield”. Fubuki laughed awkwardly. The Awoken took their leave of and both went where they were planning to. The weight of the guilt finally loosed from Fubuki’s shoulders. She hates being disturbing for anyone and the fact that Nevia had let the morning incident go made her finally feel good again.

“I hope you are not thinking you are already friends, right?” Ori hovered next to her, preaching as usual. 

“We might become ones some day. She is actually nicer than she tries to look like”

“I doubt that”

“You doubt anything, little one”