#bc that's literally this whole fic

[evil-ontheinside]

I saw a brighter world beyond myself: Chapter 2

"He must have something useful in his bag, right?

Michael moves slowly when he shifts his bag into a more accessible position. Holly’s arm moves along with his, letting go seemingly the last thing on her mind. Her eyes are still fixed on Batty who crouched down to examine the paper. They’re wide, a little terrified even though she has nothing to fear. Michael will face the consequences, no matter what happens.

With a hand deep in his bag, trying not to make a noise he will regret instantly, Michael tries to recall what exactly he threw inside. He doesn’t remember much other than Dustin’s bewildered look when he cut off the curtains—which he mostly only did to see his reaction and because he can. If he leaves the castle in a cloak-and-dagger operation he will leave his parents with a present. Or steal something, seems more accurate.

It isn’t like Michael has never done anything illegal before, and stealing half the curtains in his own room should hardly count as a crime.

The object he finally feels at the bottom of his bag is a different story."

Chapter 1

[izzystizzys]

TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog

“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”

High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”

Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.

Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.

“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”

“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.

High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.

Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”

“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”

Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”

“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.

“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.

He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-

Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.

Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.

Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!

And catch him, High General Windu sure did.

“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”

“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.

“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”

“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.

Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”

[leavethebagelalone]

"i love you, momma"

my take on a beautiful scene from @its-just-me-7's incredible fic, disguised intentions

[justaz]

arthur (prince of camelot) still has to study under a tutor bc yknow uther wants him to be very intelligent before becoming king or something bc its super important idk idc anyways merlin is doing chores in his chambers while arthur is squinting at a book and merlin eventually caves and asks him what he’s reading and arthur gruffly explains that its a collection of stories from greece that make absolutely no sense so merlin asks him to read them outloud to him. arthur of course teases him and calls him an idiot and asks how he could possibly help but does as he’s asked and reads the stories to merlin as he does his chores. merlin (being crushed under the weight of destiny and tormented by the prophecies that kilgharrah spews) understands the stories almost immediately and gets all excited and starts rambling about them with arthur. arthur is glad to have someone who understands so he can give something that reflects a hint of understanding to his tutor who accepts it and moves onto the next unit of education.

the thing is, arthur finds more stories in camelot’s library and brings them up to his room to read them aloud to merlin under the guise of completing his studies but really he just wants to watch as merlin’s eyes gleam when he understands whats happening and listen to him ramble on and on about them bc he’s gay. the stories stick with merlin though and he realizes that they’re cautionary tales, that the heroes who were told too much of their future doomed themself to fulfill them - that them fighting the prophecies led to their completion. merlin takes it to heart and gives a big “fuck you” to kilgharrah before forging his own fate and helping morgana with her magic and handing out an olive branch to mordred and now everyone can live happily and peacefully in an albion teeming with magic.

[myokk]

WIP Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @okeydokeylackey !!!! I LOVED YOUR SNIPPET & everyone should DEFINITELY check out your art/writing (I know I always love seeing it on my dash🥹🫶)

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

***DISCLAIMER THESE ARE ALL TYPED UP STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS AND UNEDITED BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH***

Oneshot:

A beetle slowly makes its way across Sebastian Sallow’s desk.

The classroom is silent - save for the scratching of quills furiously calculating the Arithmatic probability of who will be the next Minister and the quiet murmur of his professor as she helps Hobhouse (how did he even get into the N.E.W.T. level?) - and Sebastian is going absolutely mad.

He counts how many seconds it takes for the beetle to reach his abandoned quill (fifteen). But, when it takes its seventh step after making it over the quill (an auspicious sign), Sebastian slams his hand down on top of it.

The loud noise echoes through the silent classroom and Sebastian hears her snickering coming from behind him as the whole class turns to see what has happened. His ears turn red, he wishes he could jinx her somehow, and yet he is terribly curious to see what she has sent him this time. Sebastian hopes that everyone has gone back to their equations and stops staring at him, because now that it’s in his hands, his fingers are itching to open it. His hands eagerly - shamefully eager, if you ask him - unravel the note he’s crumpled up in his hands - almost a shame that he destroyed the beetle, it was one of her better creations - and Sebastian soon curses his haste.

His ears would be an even deeper shade of red were his blood not currently draining to a different part of his body. Sebastian shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he continues reading the note, his eyes flying across the tiny note once, twice, three times before he crumples it up and adds it to the graveyard of the other notes she has been sending him all day. The words fuck my soaking cunt flash up at him and he adjusts his schoolbag so that if anyone walks past and looks into it, they won’t suspect a thing.

You see, this has been going on all day. Sebastian knew that when his seventh year started, it was going to the culmination of their academic rivalry, but he never expected this. That witch has made taunting him her personal vendetta, and it’s working.

Sebastian can’t get her out of his mind.

FIC - CHAPTER 25: (honestly I might delete this scene or save it for later)

She wanted him to hate her.

Hatred wasn’t what she saw in his eyes now, though.

Almost as if she were watching herself from afar, not in control of her body, Eloise came to a stop in front of Sebastian and looked down at him. The green light was highlighting his face and he looked ethereal, otherworldly. She watched her hand reach out and touch his cheek - hesitant, unsure - and when he didn’t jerk his head away as she expected - as she deserved - she moved to sit down next to him in the tiny space. Her knees bumped into his just like their noses bumped against each other as she moved her face towards his. Still, he didn’t move away.

She felt his warm breath fan across her lips. Maybe they stayed like that, lips not-quite-touching, for an eternity; maybe it was only a second. Eloise was only aware of Sebastian’s intoxicating presence, of the way his breath hitched when she finally bridged the gap between them, of the way her heart surrendered itself to him. This kiss was nothing like what they had shared before. It was hesitant, soft, sweet. His hands came up to her face, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss.

Eloise didn’t know what had gotten into her - she was supposed to be avoiding Sebastian, hating him, and yet she couldn’t pull herself out of his embrace. She was melting into his touch, his thumbs brushing themselves down her cheeks, her neck, fingers going through her hair, over and over as if to reassure himself of her presence, his lips moving languidly against hers. Eloise sighed into his mouth, almost-smiling but not-quite: she was nervous, as complicit as he was in this kiss, maybe even more, considering she had been the one to reach out first. But then -

Sebastian pulled away from her, puzzled, his hands moving back to cup Eloise’s face. He was saying something, rough thumbs gently brushing away the thick tears rolling down her cheeks. When had she started crying?

NO PRESSURE TAGS: @holdmymallowsweet @writing-intheundercroft @morelikeravenbore @sav-less @gothic-lottie @kay9leo @celestial--sapphic @libellule-ao3 @anomalyaly AND ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO IT IM SERIOUS !!!!!!!!! I CAN NEVER THINK OF WHO TO TAG & I WOULD LOVE TO SEE LITTLE EXCERPTS OF YOUR WRITING🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[quick-catton]

i just want to say that these two have been on my mind literally all of january. the thought of the debauchery they would indulge in. bobby and his pretty boygirlfriend. using him as a decoy in robberies, his cute lil thing an easy distraction while he takes what he needs, allowing them both to easily slip away. getting to show off his pretty baby in clubs, having a sweet little thing as his passenger princess during long drives through the dessert. a doll for him to dress up and have hanging off his arm wherever they go. anyway <3

[bikananjarrus]

if yord had lived he'd be leading the hunt for qimir and osha and we would've gotten the most delicious tension between him and qimir. qimir would start out frustrated that yord got away, intent on finishing what he started. and yord, once hunted, now hunter, once an exemplary jedi, and now solely focused on revenge disguised as righteous justice (which it is also a bit of that). and qimir starts to enjoy the game, the chase. and in this timeline, sol still dies, osha still goes with qimir, but yord was unconscious, recovering in a bacta tank, so all he knows when he wakes up is that qimir is out there and took osha, his friend, away. so then you also have the tension of that confrontation, the realization that osha has willingly turned, and that maybe yord can't blame her for that, because what has he been doing these past many months, years, maybe, but give in to the selfish desire to finish what he started too?

[hauntingofhouses]

yeah taimizu IS toxic and off putting actually ‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️

EDIT: TO BE CLEAR THIS IS A POST IN FAVOUR OF TAIMIZU!!! I AM A DIRTY TAIMIZU SHIPPER!!!!!

[atthebell]

Words: 4704 Fandom: QSMP Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cucurucho (QSMP) & Jaiden Animations, Jaiden Animations & Baghera Jones, Jaiden Animations & Rafael Lange | Cellbit Characters: Jaiden Animations, Cucurucho (QSMP), Baghera Jones, Rafael Lange | Cellbit Additional Tags: Manipulative Cucurucho (QSMP), Stream: Aug 5 2023 Don't worry nothing's going to happen :), Lonely Jaiden Animations, Canon Compliant Summary:

She turns to look out over the landscape and nearly jumps upon seeing Cucurucho again. “You’re scaring me,” she says out loud, not even meaning to. But it’s true. She’s afraid, she realizes. She’s never truly been afraid of Cucurucho, not since the first time she saw him. But now she’s terrified of whatever it is that’s making him act like this, that’s making him disappear and return with more riddles, more clues that mean nothing to her.

remember that stream right before jaiden went to japan where cucurucho kept giving her cryptic books and running away from her and then it and osito bimbo asked her to help them? well i wrote a fic about it for @qsmp-month!

[danothan]

Just reading some comics and saw a panel I thought you might like. :)

ah fuck, characters reminiscing always get to me ;__;

but i will never ever get over that fond way these two talk to and abt each other. especially when they’re poking fun, you can just hear the love in their voice it’s SICK.

the halbarry love language is annoying each other, but even more than that, it’s being each other’s exceptions

[wttcsms]

Hihi i saw ur request box was open & i just couldnt resist! A big confession to make here, uhh ive been such a big fan of u and yr writings and also u were the v first fanfic blog i came across a couple years ago so yea, u literally open my third eye to a whole new world of fics👉👈 🥺

i feel like you havent written angst in a while–and bc i miss ur angsty haikyuu fics– sooo could i request post-breakup college!au with atsumu or iwai (honestly anyone who'd best fit the scenario cuz i trust ur characterization👌) abt the aftermath of the breakup, them seeing us on campus and unconsciously following us with their eyes, reschin to help out on instinct only to realize theyre no longer together, thinking about what could've been just reminisce reminisce

ahhhh im sry honestly dont know how to expand more on the idea

thank you for stealing my ficvirginity😃

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 2.1k content contains exes still in love, college!au, mutual pining author's notes hi <3 i remember you (eycee, right?). don't be a stranger! you can always dm me and say hello :) thank you for the constant support. not sure if this fic is angsty enough, but i wanted yours to be the first req i do <3

“Hi, welcome in! Let me know if— Oh.”

Your voice falters, recognition and maybe even something similar to embarrassment flits across your face, and a split second later, you go back to smiling like nothing’s wrong. Like the two of you haven’t spent the better half of this month actively avoiding each other at all costs, even though the sprawling acres of the University of Tokyo suddenly feels too small. The entirety of Japan has felt too small ever since it became his mission to never cross paths with you ever again. 

This mission of his started just a little over two weeks ago, on the very same day you decide to use his heart as your own punching bag. The worst part of it all, though, is the fact that he doesn’t even hold any type of contempt for you. It’s a cruel sort of joke; sometimes, Atsumu Miya feels like everything bad that happens to him is just some sort of sick punchline in a sitcom instead of real life. 

Usually, when girlfriends find out their high school sweetheart is going to be a wildly successful (and rich) professional athlete, they’ll do anything in their power to hang onto him.

You decided to snip the invisible string tying the two of you together, and you did it so effortlessly, so quickly, that Atsumu had to make sure that he hadn’t been imagining the last four years of your relationship. 

He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s torn between staring at you like a total creep or looking at everything in the campus bookstore but you. He settles for the former, scared that this will be his last opportunity to really look at you. 

Neither of you is saying anything. It’s a Saturday and so no one else is even in the bookstore this morning, and Atsumu wants to say something, anything, but he’s never been that great at carefully picking his words, and he’s scared out of his mind that he’ll say something stupid and prove once and for all that you had been right to break up with him. Better yet, he wants you to say something. He wants you to give him a better explanation instead of the bullshit you told him in his apartment. 

We just want different things.

What does that even mean? He thinks he would have shouted out that question, if only your little break up speech hadn’t caught him so off guard. Different things? The two of you wanted different things? Sure, Atsumu likes to sleep in a freezing cold apartment, and you need the room to actually be at a reasonable temperature. And maybe Atsumu has a penchant for overly fried, greasy foods when all you want (and deserve) is a fancy dinner. Maybe Atsumu wants to be at a sports store instead of browsing aisle after aisle in Sephora, but he doubts these different wants have accumulated so much that you felt you had no choice but to break his heart. 

“Hey, Miya.” You say it softly, dropping the perky customer service voice you greeted him with before you turned around and realized who he was. And he flinches. He fucking visibly cringes at the way you speak to him, walking on eggshells and going back to formalities like he’s barely above a stranger to you.

Miya.

(Did you know that he wanted to make that your last name?

Do you know that he still does, even now?)

“Hey,” he replies back, curling his fingers into fists inside his pocket. He thinks his voice comes out all scratchy, like how it always sounds when you don’t use your voice nearly enough. He clears his throat awkwardly. Everything feels awkward; everything feels wrong. He says “hey”, but what he really means to say is please don’t call me Miya; you know the color of my toothbrush, you don’t have to call me Miya. 

“Were you looking for something?” 

You.

Subconsciously, Atsumu finds himself seeking you out. He walks by another girl on campus and almost breaks his neck with the speed he turns around to catch a whiff of the perfume wafting from her body because he swears it’s the same fragrance you favor. He walks by the building that houses all the classrooms for your specific major, even though it’s located on the opposite side of his own classes because he secretly hopes against all hope that he’ll run into you, and you’ll see him and fall in love with him again. He goes to the same restaurants the two of you frequently ate at together, and he orders your usual because you can never finish your entire meal and always have him finish off the leftovers for you (and the food is always good, but somehow it doesn’t taste the same when your utensils haven’t touched it first). And he doesn’t even need to be here, doesn’t even care enough about his stupid class to go out of his way to buy the study guide, but he knows you’ve started picking up the weekend shifts at the campus bookstore, and suddenly, he cares enough about passing to get the damn study guide. 

He shrugs. “Just some stupid workbook to study for an upcoming exam, but it’s not that serious.” 

“Oh. Is Dr. Furata giving you a hard time again?” 

“How do you do that?” Atsumu blurts out, wanting to kick himself for giving too much of himself away. You already own every centimeter of his heart and maybe his soul. You don’t need anything else from him; he’s almost certain there’s nothing left for him to give you, but he can’t help but impulsively ask the damn question that’s been running through his mind ever since you left him behind. 

Did you know that when you’re confused, your brows furrow together, and you get this adorable, endearing crinkle in between them? Do you know that he still finds that same expression as cute as he did when you still called yourself his girlfriend? 

“What are you talking about?” 

How can you just stand there and act like you never crushed his heart? How do you wake up in the morning and not feel like your life is missing something important, like you’ll never feel whole again? How can you keep him wrapped around your finger, and then have the audacity to not even realize it? How did you let him go so quickly? 

Practicing caution, he swallows hard before clarifying, “How do you know everything?” Because if you can act like he’s just a polite acquaintance, like he’s nothing more than another fellow classmate, he can try to play pretend too. He can act like there’s not enough history between the two of you to fill up every damn textbook in this stupid store. “Yeah, Dr. Furata’s been on everyone’s ass. Somethin’ about midterm grades being worth a quarter of our overall grade.” 

“Believe me, you’re not the first victim of Dr. Furata’s to come wandering in the store. I think I have a few more of the workbooks he suggested in stock. Let me go check.” 

It’s instinct at this point for Atsumu to just follow you. If he uses his imagination, it’s almost like he’s back to browsing in a makeup store, walking aimlessly in every aisle, following you loyally because he’s happy to have you lead the way and he doesn’t care where he ends up, so long as you’re there with him. 

But this isn’t an afternoon date with you. This is him following a bookstore employee. After you find that study guide, which is really nothing more than his flimsy excuse for seeking you out, you’re going to ask him “card or cash?”, ring him up at the register, and he’s going to walk out that door and have to act like he’s still not in love with you. All the while, you’re doing fine. You’re fine right now, and you’re going to be fine when he leaves, and you’re probably going to be fine, five years down the line, when you’re happy with someone else and Atsumu is alone because in this little hypothetical, he still hasn’t gotten over you.

He is trailing behind you in this bookstore, and your back is facing him, and he’s panicking because he doesn’t think he’s capable of not loving you. 

Just two weeks ago, you knew him better than anyone else in the world, maybe even better than Osamu, perhaps even better than he knows himself. Now, you just give him a polite smile as you grab the small stool to reach the books located at the very top of the shelf. 

“God, I hate the way we organize everything in the store.” You say, lightheartedly complaining. He knows you do. He knows because he’s known you for nearly a decade. The two of you have grown up together. You made this same complaint sprawled out on the couch in his apartment. 

When he doesn’t reply, you look down to see if something’s the matter, only to do it too quickly that you find yourself losing your balance. Before you can come crashing to the floor, Atsumu is quick to catch you, and you pretend that his protective embrace isn’t comforting. You pretend not to notice that he’s wearing the cologne you bought him for Christmas last year, and you continue to pretend that you don’t miss him at all, that you don’t still love him. 

And for a second, the two of you both pretend that you’re still with each other. That it’s perfectly okay to savor this intimate moment, that his arms wrapped around your body right now isn’t awkward in the slightest. He’s staring at you with a sort of starstruck, boylike wonder, and it’s so familiar, so sweet, because it’s the way he always used to look at you. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something, and—

The loud ring! interrupts whatever moment the two of you are sharing, and you nearly jump out of his arms. You hear the distinct footsteps of another student, and you adjust your shirt before remembering where the two of you are — what the two of you are. Not a couple. Barely even friends. Just a bookstore employee and a student that needs a book. That’s all the two of you are allowed to be.

“I should probably go check up front and make sure they don’t need any help.” You tell him, biting down on your lip. “Anyway, did you need anything else, or would you like me to check you out right now?” 

He blinks a few times, as if still in a daze. “Uh, yeah, sure.” The tips of his ears are flushed a light pink. “Y-yeah, I’m done here.” 

The two of you practically race each other to the front of the store, and you step behind the counter to scan his workbook. He drums his fingers, looking around the store. When he’s nervous, he likes to be moving. You know this. 

Just looking for an excuse to use his hands, Atsumu mindlessly picks a pack of gum off a nearby rack and slides it towards you so you can also scan it. You know you shouldn’t say it. You know it’s supposed to be a clean break. Instead, you tell him, 

“Actually, if you want, I have the fruit variety flavor.” 

“Huh?” This catches his attention. 

You reach into one of the boxes that have just been shipped to the store, rummaging through a tiny one before revealing a shiny, new package of gum, this one advertising all the flavors based on tropical fruits. “Would you rather have this one?” 

“Oh, yeah!” As if truly forgetting what the two of you actually are (exes, strangers with too much history, two people still pretending like they’re not in love), his eyes light up. “How did you kno—” He doesn’t finish the question. He knows the answer to the question. 

You’re quick to finish ringing him up, the “polite strangers” illusion being completely shattered. It’s obvious, really, that there are always going to be parts of Atsumu that still live deep inside of you. You can only hope that this isn’t the case for him. 

You hand him the bag, and when he grabs it from you, your fingers just barely graze each other’s. Atsumu is scared — scared that this might be the last time he ever feels your touch. 

And because you’re a glutton for punishment, you find yourself telling him,

“Don’t be a stranger.”

You can’t tell who’s more devastated: you or him.

[hypervoxel]

The first time Vox said, "I love you," to Valentino, it went horribly wrong, because Val laughed and made a joke about how often he's heard that as a sex worker (especially now that he's in Hell and has become a walking talking aphrodisiac that Vox was currently high on). Vox is now so self conscious about his feelings and has never voiced them that way since. In Val's mind, he told Vox to only say that if he means it, but Vox hasn't told Val he loves him ever again, so Val certainly isn't going to be the one to say it first.

[razormain]

quickly scribbled smth for a fic i wrote :) everyone read it its about romance positive aroace argenti

[sleeps-au-bag]

au idea where it's third semester but akira (or ren, if you prefer) and akechi only manage to get sumi to wake up from the false reality and the three of them face maruki alone. and maruki's losing. he's so obsessed with trying to "make them see the light" that he's losing control over the false reality.

he makes the desperate attempt at sending them back in time but still within the false reality to make them see his vision. he attempts to erase their memories of these past few years and make false ones for the false past.

it fails. kind of.

he did send them back in time, but they're in the true reality now. unfortunately, they now have the personalities of their past selves.

akira is now loud, fiercely loyal, and has a bit of a mean streak.

sumi is a bit more confident, happier, and outgoing.

akechi is now reserved, anxious, and even more of a people pleaser.

at least they find out they all apparently went to the same school for a year.

did i mention that it's 2009? in a certain port city?

[alien-girl-21]

lovely to be sitting here with you

There was a glimmer of hope in the form of a kind stranger that wanted to sale him on living. - Teun wants to kill himself, someone stops him.

guess who's back 😎

[magpod-confessions]

This is a stupid rant but I've been scouring the internet for more content of some "rarer" (not really) tma ships and have found that for some reason there seems to be a great divide among the fandom on whether or not certain ships are unhealthier than the other or not. Which is:

1. stupid because NONE of these characters are capable of being in a normal "healthy" relationship in the beginning and become even less capable the more the series goes on

and

2. generally a weird thing because this new epidemic of people measuring the "goodness" of their ship by (their own very one dimensional) morals and their own (dare I say bitchless) standards of what is healthy is just?? embarrassing??? Not to add the fact that what is canon and what isn't is more and more treated like something untouchable as if fan content doesn't exist to add on, add your own touch or just go insane!!!

Thirdly and lastly where is the fun? Where are the people shipping things as a crackship or only if they are toxic exes that hate each other??? We are becoming more and more rigid and I fear for the time I get an interest in something brand new that is just full of these dull, boring people who think harassing people is a valid replacement for just using the block button or that fictional characters can be measured the same way a real person can be. No real person will ever be touched by eldrich fear powers or lose two ribs in a deal with a pile of flesh I'm afraid.

Anyways I LOVE Alice and if anything bad (like dying I think she's already traumatized) happens to her I will fly to England and leitner Johnny I'm so serious

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