#best edit Audio that comes out of TikTok

[comeback-from-the-dead]

AH RAM SAM SAM AH RAM SAM SAM BULI BULI 🗣️🔥🔥🔥

[aritsukemo]

There goes my baaaabyyyy | Multiple Characters

Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, and Sae Itoshi

Summary: After seeing an abundance of tiktoks about the Usher trend, you decide to try it out on your unsuspecting boyfriend after a while of not seeing him

Warnings: This is the author's attempt at being funny so crack ahead. I apologize in advance.

A/N: Idk what came over me today, but I decided to waste my time writing this anyways after getting inspired by this amazing slideshow on tiktok talking about how each Haikyuu character would react to you doing the Usher trend. This is also my first time writing for Sae ( and I also know virtually nothing about him as I've only seen season 1 of Blue Lock ) so I'm sorry if he's ooc. I just realllyyy wanted to add him as I've been thirsting over edits of him ( and Reo ) for the past day or so.

A sigh of relief escapes through the chapped lips of the soon-to-be world cup competitor Isagi Yoichi. After hard fought battles during the preliminaries and all the stress and trials that come with it, it was finally the time for Isagi to return to his safe haven. He was hesitant for a time as he was still riding the adrenaline rush and wanted to stay back and train with some of the others, but since Bachira was returning to Japan to visit his mom and celebrate with her, it reminded him that he also had someone to return home to; you.

And so, after the longest thirteen hour flight of his life, he was now walking, suitcase in hand, alongside his best friend as the two of them exited the baggage claim and was nearing the lounge where you were allegedly waiting for him.

It had been so long since he's seen you, touched you—held you.. He finds himself wondering, how much has changed? Has your laugh changed at all? Have you switched up your sense of style? Maybe your hair? Do you still taste like the honeyed, buttered pancakes you used to make him every morning? Is your smile still so wide that it creases your cheeks and makes them pudge out more? Do your eyes still gaze at him as if he was made out of gold like they used to?

As he dwells on his thoughts, the yearning for you seeps in more and more like oil filling up a tank. It's heavy and it's only when he's just about to succumb to the weight of it all that he realizes just how much he's truly missed you.

And it seems that he wasn't alone in this feeling.

As he stepped into the lounge, he's met with his first and only warning. A warning that came in the familiar tune of the audio of a certain tiktok you had sent him a week prior before you came sliding his way on your knees. Your voice raised to match the exact pitch of the audio as you sung the infamous lyrics until you came to an abrupt halt when you collided with his stomach, nearly knocking him over with the force you hit him with.

And the only thing he could fathom to do was to stare like a deer in headlights and say, "Uh...what in the world?!"

Bachira couldn't possibly hope to contain his laughter any longer after that.

After seconds of Bachira's wheezing and airless chuckles, it was only when he was beginning to grip his stomach from the pain of his amusement that Isagi finally realized what just happened. And when he did, his entire face flushed a cherry red.

"What- Why are you doing this right now of all time?" He asked, semi-shouting as he grabbed the upper part of your arms—which were wrapped around his waist.

"I missed you, baby~!" You said in a sing-songy voice. And, as you looked up at him with your eyes shining with the familiar gleam he knew just as that same trophy-awarding smile stretched across your face, he found himself faltering for a moment. His shoulders slumping as he began mumbling shyly..

"I- I.. I missed you too.. But please, get up! People are starting to give us weird looks.."

Three months. That's how long it's been since you've last seen him.

Well, that's technically not true. If you wanted to be less dramatic, you could admit that you saw your boyfriend just last week on tv doing his signature dribbling moves and if you wanted to really be frank, you had seen his gorgeous face up close just the other day when he facetimed you and informed you that he'll be home that following afternoon. You could also make it sound much less extreme by simply confessing that you had regularly spoke to Bachira throughout these three months via text and that he'd facetime you at least one a week.

But you didn't want to count any of that.

I mean, sure you got to see him, but you didn't really get to see him. You weren't able to kiss his cheek whenever they perked up and flushed pink. You couldn't run your fingers through his layered hair and watch the satisfying transition of his brown strands turn yellow between your fingertips. You weren't able to hold his chin and watch in awe and fondness as he laughed toothily like a baby kitten..

You haven't seen him, not in all his glory which, to you, was like not seeing him at all. That said, three months of that torture was unbearable.

But all of that pain was forgotten in a matter of seconds at the odd sound of drums playing in the distance.

You didn't have any time to react to—or rather, process—what was happening or prepare yourself before Bachira got a running start towards you and soon dropped to his knees, sliding the rest of the way up to you with the biggest smile on his face—all while Usher's voice boomed behind him from his back pocket.

You had no choice but to accept fate and allow the love of your life to crash into you and completely knock you to the ground.

As the biting cold of the airport's tiles crept up your skin and all the air was just about knocked from your lungs from unexpectedly hitting the flat surface, Bachira stared down at you from above, cheeks dusted pink which made him look like an excited little kid.

"Hey, babe! It's been so long!" He chirped before coming down to press all his weight onto you as he caged your torso with his arms, his face immediately nearing yours to press a big, wet kiss to your cheek.

If it had been any other situation that he had done this in, you'd probably be annoyed from the embarrassment of having basically half the airport staring at the two of you like you were a bunch of buffoons or, at the very least, the fact that his team was laughing up a storm in the background...but having been as starved of him as you were, all you could do was laugh while relishing in the feeling of his warmth consuming every part of your body as he leaned down again to plant a feverish kiss to your lips.

Feet tapped against the small tile floors of the elevator, thumping against the marble in a rhythm that embodied the very dread of its owner.

After months of dreading this day, Sae had, once again, stepped foot in Japan; a notion he refused to even utter aloud from just how much he despised it.

For a man with such negative opinions about his homeland, his reasons for coming back were quite frivolous in comparison. Though if asked, he lie and say that his passport expired—which wasn't wrong—but deep down he knew the real reason for his return; his partner who he was too prideful to call the love of his life.

It had took some time, and for a while, Sae was forced to come back here every other year or so in secret to visit them per their request, but at last, they had decided that so much time waiting for his semi-yearly visits were too much for their poor heart and that they were ready to take the next step and leave with him to Spain.

Sae had pushed the thought to the very back of his mind, but he was more than glad—overjoyed, even—when you told him of your decision over the phone as he himself was starting to grow restless without you by his side at times.

He had already went through the process of renewing his passport so all that was left was to pick you up and drive to the airport—well, get driven to the airport—where he could finally leave this horrendous country, this time with you snuggled up by his side.

But he should've known that you wouldn't have let things be so simple.

As the doors to the elevator opened and allowed him to, at last, step foot into your lavish home, the symphony of his demise began to rang throughout it and bounce of the walls. Sae paused, face contorting into one of visible perplexment before his eyes widened at the sight of you sliding on your knees towards him, mouth opened as you sang to the beat of the music blasting throughout your home.

Your performance was short, glorious, and came to an end when your face was buried into the smooth fabric of your boyfriend's clothing and you smoothly wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's waist.

And it was only a full minute after such an amazing performance that it finally dawned on him what you were doing. And to that, he simply sighs disappointedly.

"I've changed my mind. You're not going anywhere with me," He said, and despite the blunt tone he douses his words in, it does little to your dazzling smile as you knew full well his words held little weight to them. You find yourself playing into your own bullshit anyways, though, as you begun to whine out in a high pitch you just knew he couldn't stand.

"Aww, but why? All I did was greet my pookie--" "Finish that sentence and I will actually leave you in Japan for another ten years."

You promptly shut your mouth after that, much to Sae's relief.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[anonity]

BETTER -- oneshot

been gone for a min for a last min road trip w/ friends for new years :) happy 2025! had this in my drafts after watching the paige ep on flau’jaes podcast

WC: ~1200 summary: paige catches you and your saved basketball edits

the amount of paige edits that popped up on your for-you-page was diabolical. especially considering she was your roommate.

you were waiting for her to return from practice, feet kicked up on the coffee table of your apartment, when the first of the day came up.

originally, you’d justified your ever-growing collection of edits as hype-videos: something you could scroll through before paige’s games to get you in the right mood. for a while, that checked out – you only saved her highlights, quick moving graphics with smooth transitions.

but then it had quickly devolved into what can only be described as an obsessive fan folder, filled with edits so thirsty you think you would actually combust if anyone saw them, let alone paige.

it was bound to happen.

you continued watching edits when the door opened, kept scrolling when it closed, and carried on even as paige leaned curiously on the kitchen counter. its not like she would know who you were watching – hell, you had juju watkins videos coming up on your page every couple days, too. 

this arrangement had worked perfectly for you for months. you got to indulge in your quietest delusions, and your best-friend-turned-roommate could continue on none the wiser. 

until her voice rang out clearly from your phone. you would’ve played it off, really, said it was an interview clip or something, had her voice not immediately been followed by the “or nah” audio. 

mortified did not even begin to describe the feeling clawing into your throat.

you scrolled impossibly fast and began praying. maybe she hadn’t been paying attention. maybe she wasn’t even in the kitchen anymore. maybe you’d imagined the entire thing and paige wasn’t even real and this was all some kind of awful dream you’d wake up from in 3, 2, 1…

“whatcha watchin’?”

you think your soul has left your body. 

paige is sauntering over and looking very smug. you’re wondering how fast you can make it from the couch to the balcony. 

“an interview,” you try anyway, despite the fact that not a single interview in the history of basketball has ever included fucking ty dolla sign.

paige smirks, leaning over the back of the couch. her breath tickles the top of your head and you shiver despite yourself, eyes trained on the tiktok now repeating on your phone – one of those orange muppet videos (pepe? is he supposed to be a shrimp?) stuck on the first slide. really, if it weren’t for the horrors of your current situation, you would find the irony funny. if you survived this event, maybe you would make one. you can see it now. “i’m watching edits of my roommate – my roommate walks in – i have to defend myself to my roommate –” i have to defend myself to my roommate.

“which interview?”

“umm,” you say, eloquently. you can’t think past your orange muppet spiral. “overwatch?”

paige laughs, a noise that distracts you long enough for her to yank your phone away. “overtime?”

shit.

you can barely get out a disdained “paige!” before you hear the audio repeating again. would a fall from the third floor kill you? is it still considered a fall if you jump?

you stop lunging for your phone – maybe you can just play it cool. who cares if theres a paige edit on your FYP? it's only weird if you make it weird. “you act like those don’t pop up on your for you page too.” 

paige shushes you, biting her cheeks in mock-seriousness. she shushes you! the nerve! if you weren’t so mortified you would argue with her! 

but you are mortified, and so you stay quiet.  the silence stretches on and on until your phone also goes silent. the apartment's heating unit is suddenly very loud, and for once you aren’t irritated at the noise – instead, you just think of how much you will actually miss your loud heating unit once paige processes the situation and kicks you out of your apartment in the dead of winter. 

you think it can’t get any worse, until another audio starts playing and a self-satisfied grin stretches across paiges face. “you have like 70 videos in here.”

somebody kill me.

the original silence is filled with mr. lover lover, and there is absolutely no way you can “it’s for the hype” your way out of this. she continues scrolling. you stare helplessly at the floor. after what you can only guess is six or seven incriminating edits, she pauses, her jaw clenching inexplicably. here it comes. 'get out of my apartment' – 'i can’t look at you the same anymore'. you’re so cooked. fried, even.

“whatchu got caitlin saved in here for?”

what?

you must’ve voiced that thought out loud, because she responds. “you got a thing for iowa players too?”

your brows furrow. this was not the direction you thought this would be going in. instead, theres an edge cutting through paige’s words that you can’t quite place. is she still pissed? you let out a nervous laugh. “relax, paige, it’s not like i’m making wedding plans with her.”

paige stiffens. “it’s enough for a save-the-date.”

“paige, it’s like a 30 to 1 ratio.”

“yeah, our points ratio is 30:1 too.”

what the hell? first of all, you watch enough basketball to know that's not true. second of all, again, what the hell? 

“i mean, it’s fine, i get it.” paige shrugs, suddenly uninterested in your phone. she tosses it on the couch and you (slowly) slip it into your pocket before she can change her mind. “i just think it’s funny you watch her when you literally live with someone better.”

“better at what?” paige splutters. “basketball.” 

suddenly, it clicks. you sit, quiet, stunned for a second. “paige, if i didn’t know any better i’d say you sound jealous.”

“it’s not jealousy! it’s.. like, respect.” paige gestures wildly, and you’d almost believe her if there wasn’t a flush creeping up her neck.  you raise a brow. “respect?” “we share a netflix account! and you’re saving edits of my competition!” “you’re totally jealous.” 

paige looks cornered, backing towards the kitchen. her gaze falls to the floor. “i just think, like, i dunno – i just think i care about you and i’m right here and you’re saving edits of caitlin freakin’ clark.”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes, the absurdity of this situation catching up to you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you see the orange muppet again. 

“what’s so funny?”

“you’re just –” you take a deep breath. “i can’t believe your jealous over a caitlin clark edit. you act like we’re together or something.”

“maybe i wanna be.”

paige freezes. you freeze. the heater kicks off. you're moving before you can think about it, standing in front of her. her eyes stay trained to the floor.

“i’m sorry. i just – you drive me crazy.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

she finally glances up, a smile cracking. “it’s not.”

“then what are you gonna do about it?”

her hand is on your jawline in an instant, and the nervousness bubbling in your chest is finally cut off with her lips on yours. when you pull away, she’s grinning.

“30:1 edit ratio, huh?”

your face heats, and you push your head against her chest. “not funny, paige.”

“i’ll make a new folder for you – poor decisions, filled with caitlin clark edits.”

"alright that's enough."

[kaiser1ns]

#. FASHION PUT IT ALL ON ME !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. takiishi chika, endo yamato

fluff + slight suggestive. everyone loves the designer, but the designer loves his model a little bit more than the others.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

Takiishi Chika was a name, that made everyone got goosebumps when mentioned. The mere thought of him, a figure whose influence loomed large over the fashion industry and as one of the creative masterminds behind 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊, where he shared the leadership with the flamboyant and public-facing Endo Yamato. While Endo played the role of the charismatic creator, Takiishi preferred to lurk in the shadows, and his critiques were final, his words absolute and whatever he decided, happened.

Through his distant approach, one thing was undeniable—his eye for design was flawless. And that’s how you, a new model, had caught his attention. You were still coming to terms with how you had become Takiishi’s assistant, but Endo often joked that you were more of his doll than a working partner. At first, it seemed purely professional with you being the one he called upon to wear designs he was unsure of, the ones that were about to be thrown out but once you put them on … they were suddenly the best-created piece of clothing. Somehow, you had a way of making the dresses he disliked, those dull and lifeless fabrics became art on your body. Effortlessly stunning as if they had always been meant for you.

You didn’t know why it worked, but every time Takiishi’s usual bored expression softened. He liked the design—no, he liked you in the design. It wasn’t long before he stopped looking elsewhere and was attached to your hip, he needed you and made sure that your schedule was the same as his. Thanks to Endo, though, you spent every day with the critique.

Tonight was no different, you were in his apartment, a space you had become more familiar with over time, even calling it your home on accident. You’d agreed to make dinner, something simple since it was your cheat day that Endo didn’t need to know about, but Takiishi never policed your diet and around him you felt you could be yourself, free from the pressure of the runway. He never expected anything from you other than just to stay by his side, just like now as you moved through his kitchen and hummed softly, occasionally glancing at him lounging on the couch, absorbed in his phone. 

“Do you want the usual drink?” you asked, already knowing the answer. He usually stuck to the same thing, but tonight he didn’t respond. Normally, he would give a nod or a low murmur, and now there was nothing. Takiishi was a man of few words, but he always acknowledged you in some way. “Chika?” you called again, but still no response. He was so engrossed in something, so the curiosity got the best of you when you wiped your hands and crept behind him to see what had captured his attention.

It was TikTok of all things. Your heart stopped when you saw the video on his screen. It was an edit of you, a compilation of clips of your viral moment when you wore one of 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊’s most famous mini dresses. It was a rainbow-stripped piece that had practically broken the internet. You were trending everywhere, and now it seems you still do. You remembered the chaos of that day, the media went crazy so did your fans. But what caught you off guard was the used audio and the caption that was put in. A mash-up of “One Of The Girls x Good for You” and the post description was “CAN’T THEY DATE ALREADY?”.

Your heart skipped and cheeks flamed as you noticed something else—Takiishi had liked the video, he even saved it to his favorites. The music continued to play, almost teasing you as you stood behind him, watching the video of the two of you when the final clip showed him, holding your hand and leading you into a limo after the show. A moment that was a pure mess, at the time, but now you saw it differently. 

He felt your presence behind him and turned his head slowly, catching you in the act of peeking at his screen. His golden eyes met yours, staring at your flushed face. Why were you blushing? The question was that he wanted to ask, though he didn't. The video kept playing, the lyrics of the song making their way to your brain—Let me show you how proud I am to be yours/Leave this dress a mess on the floor/Still look good for you, good for you, oh-oh.

You swallowed hard as the memory of that day appeared and how that dress indeed ended up on the floor of his bedroom. In Takiishi’s eyes, you always looked good, wrapped in the most expensive silk or wearing nothing at all. It didn’t matter as long he was the only one to see you, to hold and have you. His expression shifted, something hiding behind his calm facade. He felt like he wasn't being in his skin, something in his chest was making him uncomfortable and he was about to rip his heart. It was like he wasn’t in control of himself for once, and that unsettled him. Takiishi turned off his phone, but the echo of the lyrics lingered between you.

You smiled, feeling both vulnerable and proud because you knew that you belonged to him. You are proud to be his, even if you didn’t put a label on, it wasn’t necessary for what you had on. Both of you knew without voicing it or showing it to the rest of the world.

The dinner you’d spent the evening preparing was forgotten because what he craved wasn’t food—it was you and the taste of your love.

ENDO YAMATO

Endo Yamato was the embodiment and the definition of art. In every stitch, every fabric, every stroke of his pen, he transformed the materials into a well-painted canvas, and his dreams came true walking down runaways under the flashing rights. He was art himself. His name was synonymous with fashion because everything he touched became the next sensation. Top models fought to wear his work, to be scouted under 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊, but one model stood above the rest in his eyes.

The world knew you as the face of the 21st-century fashion scene, gracing the covers of magazines, appearing in music videos, and promoting the newest products, but to Endo, you were much more than that. You are his muse, the heart and soul of creations, his favorite girl. Whenever you wore his designs, it was as if the fabric became alive, elevated by your confidence and charisma, something no other model could replicate. And no matter how packed his schedule became—traveling to interviews, collaborating with brands, or organizing his shows—he always found time for you.

He remembered the day you chose him, how you could have signed with any fashion house you wanted, yet you chose him. It was a decision that left him awed and flattered beyond measure. The outfits he made for you, even before you joined, became best-selling clothes and still sold, in limited editions of course. You were already a rising star and the trust you put in him, he never took for granted. The others could wait, competing for his attention, writing him tons of emails, but you were already the sun in his galaxy; the brightest star of them all.

Today was no different with you in his private studio, wearing a dress he had been inspired to create when you mentioned how you would like to wear bold colors like red. The soft, red silk clung to your figure perfectly, and the asymmetrical design with the front of the dress is shorter, revealing the legs, while the back is longer, paired with black thigh-high boots, which contrast sharply giving you the edgy effect you wanted. His eyes traced every inch of the cloth, but more so, they lingered on you.

“Turn around, doll,” he said softly, as he measured once more, though he already knew the dress fit you like a second skin, it was just one of his excuses so he could physically be close to you. You turned, facing him fully, and your reflection in the mirror was a second bullet to his heart. Endo barely registered the fabric he tried to fix, it was you who captivated him.

In a few days, you’d be wearing this dress to one of the most prestigious fashion events of the season, an event he was invited to headline and though he was making sure every thread was in place, he wasn’t there just for the measurements and to play dress to impress. He called you saying how you had to do one last try on the garment...one of many last tries over the past few days. Of course, it was another excuse, and you didn’t mind at all.

“You look…” His voice trailed off, dreamlike, lost in his admiration for you. How could words even capture what he was? You weren’t just his best model—you were everything to him. The fashion world adored you and crowned you its new queen, but to him, you were simply you. The muse he took inspiration from, his most precious gem, the one who sewed up his heart hiding all the sharp things the string could be cut off. 

Rumors had started swirling lately. People began noticing how much time you spent in his studio, how he’d rearrange his entire schedule for you. They whispered, speculating whether there was more between you than just designer and model. But neither of you spoke of it. This remained private, a secret to share when you feel ready to.

“Yamato…Are you okay?” you asked, concerned as he stared at you, eyes lingering for a little too long making you think there was something wrong. You had grown accustomed to his perfectionism, but something in his gaze told you that this wasn’t just about the dress. The way you said his first name made him melt that he could sew you a wedding dress right then and there. For a moment he forgot about the dress, the show, the world outside.

He set down the tape measure and scissors as he stepped closer, his fingers grazing the smooth fabric, tattooed skin gently caressing your exposed shoulder then his hands found their way around your waist. You stood tall on the small round podium, slightly towering over him and none of that mattered when you were in his embrace.

“I just can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, though his tone was quiet you heard everything, you felt everything, and his heart was beating so fast, just like yours. You can’t get enough of him either, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. In his eyes, you weren’t just another model. You were the reason his creations had meaning. You were his one and only, and though the world might see it soon, for now, he was content to keep that secret between the two of you.

taglist :: @maruflix @17020 @kiurona @nyxypoo @ryescapades @stunies @mydream-synopsis @kazuhaiku @heartkaji @meidiary @slerixx

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[achenetype]

Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday. 

You think you’re going to die. 

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

[ventismacchiato]

JEALOUSY CHAPTERS IN COMING i need that scrmn LORE spill the TEA

LOVED THE CHAPER LOVE UR WRITING LOVE U LOVE UR BIG FAT AND WRINKLY BRAIN LONG LIVE KING KAI

some fun scrmn lore that i have nowhere to put (i’ll try including these at the end like i did with btl) these r all over the place but

yk those edits to breaking dishes like this or this? i feel like that was scara in a relationship, at award shows he’s the one to pull out the chair, hold up the back of her dress, let her walk ahead of him for photos and whatnot

this audio https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYYXH6y7/ also gave me an hc, imagine after their breakup being announced and at some music show mona is singing a sad ass song then it cuts to scara having the time of his life on stage

i mentioned this once before but scara choreographed one of mona’s title tracks, but after their breakup he copyrights all of it so she’s forced to remake it and it’s not half as good so she gets clowned on tiktok for a week

they probably met from him producing a song for her and hooking up after and just started to date after that

not the best relationship, it was more of a fwb type thing but they both were sorta friends before they started dating. but a lotttt of fighting once they did start dating

they probably did a few couple stages, yk the song ping pong (ignore who the singer is) and they prolly mced a show tgt and followed a lovey dovey script

i can imagine the amount of hate trucks mona got cus fans r crazy but this was during the toxic part of their relationship so he didn’t care, i can imagine if they got into a bad fight he’d pay for trucks to say FLOP outside her entertainment building to be petty

ok that’s all i’ll say for now without spoiling yay

[succubusvalentine]

Steve wrote romance novels.

Steve was good at writing romance novels. so much so, that he’s sold millions of copies all over the world, his books being translated into a bunch of different languages.

So when Steve’s latest book comes out, and the love interest is described as having long unruly hair, brown eyes you could get lost in, and a ‘taking no shit from anybody’ personality, Steve’s large fan base started talking about how rockstar Eddie Munson, was what the love interest looked like.

it was largely agreed upon by the fan base, and because of this. Corroded Coffin started blowing up on booktok, and then people started editing Eddie.

Eddie and the rest of CC didn’t mind the extra attention (not that they needed it with nearly thirty million monthly listeners on Spotify). But suddenly everyone was going on about Eddie.

Talking about how attractive he was, his interview clips being posted on tiktok.

And now Steve’s fan base and CC’s fan base start talking about how insane it would be if Steve and Eddie met.

This ordeal goes on for months and months, Steve’s sales skyrocketing.

And then, the met gala rolled around.

Everybody was excited to see what Eddie dressed as, who his plus one would be. Who everyone would be jealous of because they go home with Eddie fucking Munson.

Eddie showed up to the met gala wearing a black suit, red dress shirt, he had a choker on that looked like drops of blood around his neck, a high and dramatic collar turning into a cape.

And who’s his plus one? Steve fucking Harrington.

Steve Harrington, in a cute light blue tux, an expensive looking crown and a matching dramatic collar that turns into a cape (though, not as dramatic as Eddie’s) everybody (rightfully so) freaks the fuck out.

Was this for publicity? Did they do this so that fans would go even more stir crazy?

When they reach the top of the carpet, they walk up to the interviewer who looks like she’s dying to see what’s going on.

“So…how do you two know each other?” she asked

“Stevie here’s my sweetheart, has been for a long time” Eddie grinned

The fans watching are currently freaking out, Steddie trending on twitter

“And so…was Eddie the inspiration for your latest books love interest?”

Steve laughed “Yeah…if im honest half the ways i described the love interest was because of the things i said to my best friend Robin Buckley about Eddie when I had a massive crush on him”

“And who does everybody think Sailor Boy is about? It’s about my sweetheart” Eddie questioned, his arm now resting on Steve’s waist.

They walked off before any more questions could be asked. And now fans were going even more insane,

edits of the two at the met gala blowing up on tiktok, the song Sailor Boy being used as an audio for most.

[midnightbears]

✿ tell 'em how the crowds went wild! tell 'em how i hope they shine!

⎯ in which you look back on how grateful you are for the opportunity bestowed upon you. aka: you joined the opla's cast!

#STARRING. iñaki godoy, mackenyu, jacob romero, taz skylar, emily rudd ft. fem!reader [elle fanning 4 faceclaim but u can imagine y/n anyway u wish!].

#TAGS. sfw, kind of context, a bit of smau but its tiny. mentions of covid just in case it's triggering?

#NOTE. pardon my rusty writing but i really wanted to get this out!!! i added an oc from one piece for the sake of the story but she's barely mentioned so uuuh yuh! timeline may be wrong but i work with what i'm given please bear with me. let me know if you would like more fics of this y/n??? ALSO IGNORE THE WATERMARKS ON THE PHOTOS I NEEDED TO MAKE THEM NEATER

© midnightbears on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

In the past, if someone were to come up to you and tell you that you’d be a part of the One Piece Live Action main cast in the future, you would’ve probably laughed in their faces despite your wishful thinking.

At that time, you were content with your work, doing short theatre plays with companies or gaining minor roles in musicals. Everything changed when you landed the role for the one-woman show Fleabag for a limited time on London’s West End after the leading actress underwent emergency surgery for an appendectomy. You only acted as the sex-obsessed mess of a woman for about three weeks, but it was enough time for people to notice you, to really see you.

You believed your career had reached its pinnacle when you were cast as Katherine Howard in Six: The Musical in London. Your name had become somehow well-known in the musical theatre world, and you had a small but dedicated fan base who liked uploading edits of you being a dork during the Megasix on YouTube and TikTok. 

Months later, you were bound to play as Fantine for Les Miserables when COVID abruptly struck, and you were dismayed that your job was ripped from you so abruptly. Your best friend, the sweetest person on earth, insisted on you moving in with her in fear that you’d be evicted from your apartment.

Months passed, and you eventually found a small way to help your friend pay rent by offering singing and acting lessons online to musical-aspiring teenagers. Since you had gained many followers from your earlier work on social media, it didn’t surprise you when the classes became sold out.

Your friend also convinced you to create a YouTube channel for you to upload videos of yourself (sometimes joined by her) where you watched and commented shitty movies, followed DIY tutorials just for the fun of it, performed covers of your favorite songs, and just generally vlogged your life (along with reactions to Taylor Swift’s (From The Vault) songs).

At first, you thought it was pretty stupid, but you were delightfully proved wrong when your videos harbored over 200k-300k views on a bad day, so you found no reason to stop as COVID-19 continued, growing to gain a little over five hundred thousand followers. Your reactions were often used for TikTok audios or clips, so you found your popularity growing and evolving during that year.

You believed yourself to be a general, simple woman. People liked you because you were elegant and levelheaded, although you could sometimes be chaotic. You also had a subtle sense of humor that many found charming. But mostly, you grew a steady fan base because your videos and presence comforted countless young adults and teenagers.

You were an optimist and a reassuring one, so during the times when COVID was so prominent, people sought refuge from the monstrosities of the world in your videos, where you seemed to connect with them even though you were on the other side of the screen.

However, everything changed somewhere in 2020-2021. That evening, your best friend got home from work with excitement practically oozing out of her every pore. You and your best friend were avid anime watchers and manga readers, so you couldn’t help the face you made when she told you that One Piece was getting a live-action.

Although you were skeptical, your friend practically insisted you send an audition tape. You grimaced at that. It was well-known that live anime actions were almost always corny and cringeworthy compared to the original work, and people never liked them. You had learned that much from Death Note and a couple of others. However, your best friend convinced you with this argument:

“If it’s that bad, then at least you’ll gain more followers out of the memes that people will make, and if it’s good, you’ll still get famous anyway!”

Eventually, you sent a video of you performing one of the lengthy monologues from Fleabag to your agency and simply hoped for the best. Your friend was practically rooting for you to get the role of Anastasia, one of the first integrants of the Straw Hat crew, joining before Sanji and after Usopp. You adored her as she greatly reminded you of your late mother, although you would be happy with any role.

Somewhere in November 2021, you remember a lot of screaming and crying. When you try to look back on it, all you remember is the happiness you felt when you received confirmation of the role of Anastasia. You were practically over the moon, and you and your friend celebrated inside your small apartment. You were entirely alone, just two drunk girls dancing and cheering, until one of the neighbors knocked on the ceiling with a broom.

liked by inakigo, emilyrudd and 574,949 others

yourusername actually lost for words and filled to the brim with gratitude...... i cannot express how excited i am to play my girl anastasia and bring her to life. from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who has supported me. your faith in me means everything. congrats to iñaki, emily, jacob, mackenyu and taz, thank you to onepiecenetflix, thank you to my best friend for convincing me to audition for the role, and thank you, oda sensei, for putting anastasia's heart in my hands. love u all <3

view all comments

November 10, 2021

y/nsfanclub.02, AAAAAAAA SO EXCITED FOR THIS I ACTUALLY CANT BELIEVE IT

⤷ starl6ighwnb, LIKE FR IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE THIS IS INSANE

user8392y3r927y, HELLO YOUR GRACE ANASTASIA

inakigo, Congrats!!!!!!!!

taz_skylar, 🔥🔥🔥

The One Piece fan base dearly loved the character of Anastasia, a well-mannered, bubbly, upbeat, fashion-loving duchess who always spoke in a Transatlantic accent but also had a quick wit and a bit of a sweet tooth. Anastasia’s dream was to become the most dangerous pirate to ever grace the seas and prove everyone who doubted her wrong.

Of course, with a big character came a big responsibility.

Sometimes, insecurity nearly got the better of you. You had to fill huge shoes, and there were many people to convince and impress. However, your love for this project was bigger than the gnawing uncertainty on the back of your neck, so you continued strongly until the end of Season One, finding comfort in your cast mates and the countless people who counted on you and, most importantly, believed in you.

Oda handpicked you, and that argument alone was enough to shoot any insecurities away.

Well, needless to say, people loved you!

Critics acclaimed your portrayal of the character, as well as the commendable chemistry you shared with the rest of the cast. The fans found it incredibly funny that your character was the complete opposite of how you actually acted in real life, and you often found yourself blissfully immersed in the fan base's love and praise.

Your channel and social media suddenly grew tenfold. Although you had stopped uploading videos every week due to the recording of season one, your followers were more than happy to wait for your return, and as one would expect, they were thrilled to have you back once you did upload a vlog explaining everything.

Over the course of the six months, you had been recording from time to time for a YouTube video in the set. Previously, you had asked the producers for permission to record some behind-the-scenes for your channel and your usual interactions with the rest of the cast with your personal Sony camera, as you felt it would be a nice way to bring the fans and the cast closer.

The producers gave the okay on the condition that you would wait until the first season aired on Netflix. You happily agreed and carefully began recording some scenes of your dressers and hairdressers as they prepared you, a few shots of your instructor showing you how you were supposed to use the guns that Anastasia employed... simple things.

Back in the day, you were still getting acquainted with the other cast members, and you didn't want to seem rude by forcibly making them appear on your videos, so you waited for a few weeks until you could properly call yourself companions. Then, you invited them to appear in the videos.

Iñaki, Taz, and Jacob liked to take advantage of the little free time they had between scenes they didn't appear in to innocently steal your camera and use it to their heart's content. One day, you got home only to find the memory card was completely full. It was an extensive video of them walking around the set, with Taz recording while Kiki and Jacob pointed out random stuff to the people who lived inside your camera, as Jacob liked to call them.

Mackenyu, being more reserved and introverted, mostly liked to act as a cameraman for you as you showed the props you used and other things, often making comments or turning the camera around whenever you referred to something.

Meanwhile, Emily had a natural knack for being in front of the camera. Whenever you asked her to join in, she effortlessly slipped into the co-host role, bantering with you and adding her own insights into the behind-the-scenes world of the show.

With the first season out of the way, you took the time to carefully pick what videos you wanted to use in the final tape, and it took you a little over a month and a half to properly edit it and turn it into a wonderful thirty-minute-long behind-the-scenes. You even sent it to the producers and your co-stars in case there was a scene they wanted deleted. Fortunately, they all gave you the okay.

You teased the video a bit on your Instagram before uploading it a few days later, and the support it received was out of this world. It gained over two million views and hundreds of thousands of likes.

You were kind of expecting this. While some BTS had already been uploaded on YouTube, yours was different because you were showing it from your perspective. The fans loved every second of it, and even started asking for a second or third part. You even saw new videos on YouTube of recompilations from your video with the titles being silly things like The One Piece Cast Being Chaotic for Seven Minutes.

At that moment, your life felt so full. You were getting contacted by industries who wanted you to appear on their videos and their stages, thousands of fans who loved you, and a feeling so peculiar that this would be eternal.

liked by taz_skylar, morganlogoff and 1,523,199 others

yourusername missing my wig and my gang hours ☹️

view all comments

November 10, 2023

morganlogoff, love love love you💗💗💗

curlikaqy, NO ONE KNOWS I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN

emilyrudd, GIRL I WANT TO SEE YOU COME BACK TO AMERICA

bookofjacob, missing your camera hours💔

[somehhuuuhh]

Some old stuff (drawings, animation, ect)

I'm going to yap about it alot and there's going to alot of old art so yea

(Tw- wounds, slightly suggestive???)

Some Swap outfits 🩵

The one on the left👈, I was thinking about what would swap wear sometimes as a casual outfit and also I was thinking about classiccherryberry (classic x fell x swap). I got the outfit idea from an outfit from Pinterest sadly I deleted the reference so yea sorry

The one on the right 👉, it's him as a mafia. At least I was trying to make him look like a mafia. I got the idea from a classiccherryberry art that they were mafias and it was a ploy thing which I really love. (Sadly I can't find the artwork fr some reason but if I find it I'm going to edit it in) oh and in that artwork Swap had this tattoo on he's arm and I was trying to do in my art but it looks like crap...

Sans undertale drawings :D

On the left 👈 again me thinking of classiccherryberry but i was also thinking of another outfit that he could wear with his boyfriends and OF COURSE I HAVE TO MAKE HIM CHUBBY!!! Like look at him you can not tell me that he gives the best hugs ever >:T

On the right 👉 I was just experimenting on my artstyle after seeing a TikTok video where they use a cartoon artstyle and they use dots as eyes and I thought it was pretty cute. You can clearly see that it didn't work out for me but still a cute artstyle

Some random headshots

There's not much to say they just random drawings of some characters

For the lust one I was just trying to find a design to them. I love to think they wear lipstick even though they don't have lips. They are just silly like that

For the Horror drawing....um is he scary? I tried to make him scary I think

Blueberror!!! Man i love that dude. I should draw him more...

Passive Nightmare is just so sad so I drew him beaten up and sad. Gosh this dude needs a break, he just six!!! For the love of God. If anybody hurt him I'm start my villain arc

I redrew this one frame from the original comic of Horrortale and it was Horror Papyrus. I like the horror Papyrus he needs more love

🐈Cat break🐈

(=^･ω･^=)

I love cats :3

.

.

.

I also love Inkmare :D

I keep seeing inkmare as yuri and it's adorable so I wanted to doodle them. I didn't really have an idea but I thought why not have Ink annoyed Nightmare. Ink is touching Nightmare boob's to annoyed her :D

Nightmare will probably beat up ink and then make out ʕ ◕ᴥ◕ ʔ

Yay a random animation

This animation that I will never finish. It was supposed to a animation meme where my sonq and my ocd with a Gravity Falls audio behind. Idk I just lost the movation to finish it

A dusttale comic kinda

For some reason I didn't give him any dislodge. Just pretend he's saying the most insane thing from a broken man OKAY. Idk why I didn't add anything, ig I couldn't figure out what would he say to Napstablook

So like the idea of this comic is that Napstablook is probably the only one that's alive because he's a ghost and stuff. This where dust finally defeated the human where they won't come back. Eventually Napstablook will notice that everyone is gone, they will wander around trying to find someone until they find Sans. I like to think that before Sans committed Genocide they at least know each. Napstablook was somewhat happy but still knew some was up especially since Sans being covered in dust.

Dust of course attack them but it isn't very effective cuz he's a ghost. Napstablook didn't really want to attack Sans, he's makes music not a fighter. So he give Sans mercy until Sans give mercy back and have mental breakdown...yay good ending kinda

For a bad ending Napstablook fight back and Sans gets very injured and Nightmare just comes out of nowhere and take Sans soooooo good ending for Sans just bad ending for Napstablook because they all alone.....so yea sad

[littlelovelyspiderling]

hi! I just came to say love you! Meeting the Real You has impacted me so much and I can’t wait for the next chapter! (But take your time ofc I know a masterpiece like this doesn’t just happen lol) ❤️💙

hiya! awww thank you so so much!! 🥺🫶🏻

i'm going to use this super kind message as a vessel to fulfill the promise i made earlier of posting a little tidbit / sneak peak of the next chapter for anyone who's interested in seeing that 😌

REMEMBER that this section is still a work in progress and might change a little once it's actually posted. it's honestly very unserious and silly compared to the rest of the chapter but hopefully you like. so ye here you go 😗

______________________

Ummm? excuse me?? jury’s out bro that boy is 100000% in love with you

Peter frowned as he flopped back into the pillows, opening up the text chain between him and his best friend. There he found a link from Johnny’s TikTok page to a post he’d made late last night. Dubious and groggy, he clicked on the thumbnail. 

The sleepy teen was rewarded with a raucous clip from the Daily Bugle, which depicted J. Jonah Jameson rebuking Johnny Storm for trying to paint Spider-Man as a good person. “Spider-Man isn’t some masked saint! He is no anonymous superhero! Spider-Man is a BAD GUY!”

From there, the video glitched to a shot of Spider-Man sitting on the rooftop of some skyscraper. A box of donuts sat between him and the person filming, who Peter assumed was Johnny. Between the endless swathes of footage and content the Human Torch had recorded over the past few days, it was becoming harder for Peter to keep track of when and where all these different clips were coming from. This one he recognized from when they’d taken a snack break after shooting the “spit take” video and had climbed to the top of the Chrysler building to gorge themselves. But at the time, he’d assumed Johnny was just taking a picture.

The audio switched to the song “bad guy” by Billie Eilish; quite a clever move on Johnny’s part. In the video (while the lyrics “I’m the bad guy…” played) Spider-Man plucked a donut from the box and held it to his mouth, which was visible due to his mask being rolled above his nose. He noticed then that Johnny was capturing the moment on his phone. He took a shy bite of the pastry, smiled, then gave the camera an awkward peace sign, winking one eye lens right as Billie said: “...duh.”

Following the fast-paced beat, the video deluged into a series of clips of Spider-Man battling Iron Man and War Machine during the “save the civilian” game yesterday. The TikTok cut from one clip to the next in rapid succession, showing the web-slinger zipping across the arena on silken threads, slinging a barrel high into the air, breathing hard and dripping wet as he clung to the side of the wall—and, naturally, punching Mr. Stark square in the face. Johnny must’ve had FRIDAY send the footage from the fight to his phone. It was, per usual, very well-edited and keenly produced—and of course swamped Peter with the debilitating panic of feeling way too visible to the public once again. To make matters worse, Johnny’s caption for the video had him burying his face in his pillow and blushing tomato red. 

listen if no one else is brave enough to flood the internet with spidey thirst traps then i will 🕷️

He’d learned his lesson the last time and didn’t dare look at the comments.

As his stomach swam with shyness and warmth, another text came in from Ned.

tell me again how mr. torch only sees you as a friend?? 🤨Go on. I’m waiting. there is literally no heterosexual explanation for this

The tender sapling of romance freshly sprouted between him and Johnny was still so new and inchoate, Peter had completely forgotten to fill Ned in on all the juicy developments as of late. Granted, it had barely been a day since that frigid morning atop the Statue of Liberty, yet it somehow felt far longer than that. Ned was, at present, the only person in his life he could speak openly with about this. And after so many conversations spent placating and pretending, Peter was dying to share all the details with someone he didn’t have to skirt subjects around or lie to. 

still waiting, his best friend goaded him. A coy smile eclipsed Peter’s rose-tinted features. 

…me and johnny kissed 🫢

About half a second went by before Peter’s phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime call. He couldn’t wipe the mile-wide grin from his face as he skittishly tapped the answer button.

______________________

*manical laughter* yep that's all you get 😈 i'm working to get the rest of it finished and published asap i promise just be patient with me 😵

[madeintheniamh]

needles, cuddles and orange juice

stmf one shot #2.

tilly is hiding something, and harry is desperate to find out what.

a/n: this one is for my childhood best friend becca. thank you for listening to me brainstorm random dadrry prompts even when they're a load of complete and utter rubbish. and putting up with me constantly sending you harry edits on tiktok. i love you x

warnings: needles, phobias, sort of a panic attack (idek), just way too much fluff (but can you ever have enough fluff)

She had found the note stashed at the bottom of her older sister’s school bag, crumpled up and torn at the edges, after rifling through her bedroom out of boredom whilst waiting for her to get back from school.

“Lottie, what are you doing in my room?” Tilly shouted, scorning directly at her younger sister, caught red handed in the act. “Get out. Now. I mean it.”

“Til, you’re hiding something,” Lottie smiled. “Look what I just found,”

She waved the envelope in her sister’s face trying to get a reaction.

“I wasn’t hiding anything! I just forgot about it, that’s all- didn’t even know it was in there.”

“You’re lying, Til,” Lottie teased. “You’re getting jabs tomorrow, aren’t you? I’m going to give this to Mum and Dad,”

She snatched the paper out of her sister’s hands before beginning to tear it up.

“You can’t give it to them now, can you? Now get the fuck out,” she said sternly, her face now becoming red. When Lottie didn’t move, she shoved her out of the door, before slamming it behind her. Not even two seconds later, she heard that annoying, ear-shrilling shriek that all younger sisters made, before Lottie began to cry, now sitting behind her door. Harry’s heart immediately shrunk as he heard her wails over the sound of the new audios he was sampling. He moved his headphones from his ears to around his neck and marched up the stairs.

“Daddy, Tilly shoved me! She hurt me, she’s so horrible to me,” Lottie whined, looking up at her dad who was now stood angrily on the top step. He crouched down beside her.

“Let me see, baby,” he sighed, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Nine years ago, he had been ecstatic to find out that he was about to become a girl dad for the second time, but had learnt the hard way that having two daughters wasn’t all just cutesy dress up and ballet lessons. They fought with each-other a lot, especially now that there was a new teenager in the Styles house, who detested having her younger sister constantly traipsing through her things and generally being a nuisance to her in her everyday life.

“And she said the F word at me,”

He took a deep breath, before turning to face her.

“Okay,” he said slowly, crouching down to sit next to her. “Look, I’m going to speak to her. But you know she’s busy, baby. She gets given a lot of homework and has other things going on at big school, and you’ll learn that too in a couple of years, won’t you?”

Her eyes welled up. “But Daddy, she never wants to play with me anymore, we always used to play together, now she is horrible to me and tells me to go away,”

He felt his heart panging against his chest.

“She doesn’t love me, Daddy,” A single tear dropped down her face, as he turned to face her, green eyes identical to his staring straight back at him.

“Of course she loves you, Lott,” he sighed. “It’s just that big sisters are busy- when Auntie Gemma got older, she didn’t always want to be with me. But you always have your old Dad, don’t you? And Mummy. Now come on, you need to get ready for ballet, Mummy is going to be back soon,”

She got up slowly before traipsing back to her room, fetching her pink leotard from the drawer next to her wardrobe, still wiping the tears away from her face. As much as she was genuinely upset about her older sister not showing her as much attention, she also knew how to tug at her Dad’s heartstrings just where it would impact him the most. Once Lottie had been taken off to her weekly ballet lesson, Harry set about talking to his eldest daughter, who he hadn’t seen since she had arrived back from school that afternoon.

—————————————————————————

He knocked softly on her door. “Til, are you in there? Can I come in?”

“Uh huh,”

He opened the door to find his thirteen-year-old daughter sat cross legged on the middle of her four poster bed in front of her laptop, shredded paper littering the floor around her. He made room before sitting down at the end of it, the mattress sinking slightly with the added weight.

“Look, I know it’s hard, but your sister is only little,” he exhaled slowly, looking Tilly up and down. “I know you don’t mean it, but she doesn’t understand that, and you know better,”

“But Dad, I caught her going through my stuff again, and look what she’s done to my room,” she moaned, closing the lid of her laptop to look at him properly. “It’s a mess now,”

“Well, what is all that paper on the floor? Was it schoolwork? Something important?” he said, whilst reaching down to pick up the scraps.

“No Dad, it’s nothing, you don’t need to look at it, i-“

“Have you been hiding this?” he sighed, now arranging the pieces on the bed. “Til, I thought we talked about this,”

“I swear I forgot, I swear, she came in and ripped it up, it wasn’t me,”

He took her chin in his hand and turned it so she was looking directly into his eyes.

“Matilda Gemma.” She scorned hearing her full name. “Please don’t lie to me,”

“Okay, maybe I did! But at school people keep talking about it everyday and it makes me feel sick, and I know I’m going to cry in front of everyone, and I don’t want them Dad, please,”

“I know.” He said suddenly, shocking her. “I wouldn’t either,”

“Okay, well that’s sorted then, isn’t it?”

“No Til, it’s not,” he exhaled. “Because it’s for your health, isn’t it? They wouldn’t just stab needles into people’s arms for the sake of it,”

She cringed upon hearing him say those exact words. “Dad, please,”

“I know you don’t like them, Til. I don’t either, but it’s for your own good, so you don’t get ill,” he said whilst signing the consent form. “You’re going to take this in tomorrow, and you’re going to be really brave and get them done, and then you can tell me all about how brilliant you were,”

He got up from her bed and shoved the paper into her black handbag before closing her bedroom door behind him.

“I’m going to go and get her up,” you moaned whilst glaring at your watch, the smell of burnt toast now filling the kitchen. “She’s usually downstairs by now,”

Harry nodded whilst peppering a kiss to your forehead, before turning to scoop the scrambled eggs he had just prepared out of the frying pan and onto his youngest daughter’s plate. You grabbed Tilly’s mug from the worktop, filled with milky hot tea. As you wandered up the stairs, you heard muffled sobs from her room.

“Mummy,” she complained as you opened the door, almost as though she had reverted back to her five-year-old self. “I don’t feel well, my stomach hurts,”

You sat down on the end of her bed, exhaling slowly, before leaning over to stroke her cheek.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Is it that time of the month again?”

“Yeah,” she moaned into her pillow. “I feel sick, can I stay at home, please, it’s so heavy this month,”

You sighed to yourself. You were well aware of what it had been like to grow up as a teenager with bad periods, having not been diagnosed with endometriosis until you were trying to get pregnant.

“Okay baby, you can rest,” You ran your palm down the side of her face. “How about I go and get you a hot water bottle and some painkillers, and see if that helps a bit?”

“Thank you,” she whispered, before rolling back under the sheets and shutting her eyes. You ventured back downstairs, greeted by Harry in the doorway.

“Is she okay?” he asked, a line forming in-between his eyebrows. “She’s supposed to be getting her jabs done today,”

“Really? I didn’t even know,” you said, shocked. “She never mentioned it. She just told me that her period is really bad this month,”

“Yeah, I don’t think she’s very happy about it,” he sighed, munching on the slice of toast in his hand eagerly. “I found the letter yesterday. She was begging me not to make her get them,”

You contemplated what to do. You knew Tilly wasn’t keen on needles, and could have just been exaggerating to get out of having the jabs done, but you also knew better than to force her into school when she was already suffering enough with her period cramps, and was even more likely to faint or have a strange reaction.

“Look Harry, maybe she’s better off not having them done today,”

“But what about-”

“She’ll still get them, just not today. I’m going to phone the doctors and see what they can do. Maybe it’s for the best, after what happened last time,”

The memory of Tilly passed out on an armchair at the dentist after getting a tooth taken out last year was enough to send shivers down your spine. She had been totally fine, up until she had felt the needle go into her gums, before she sat up and went limp, and slumped over herself on the chair. It had been so bad that Harry had had to come straight from the studio to carry her into the car and hold her hair out of the way as she threw up into a bowl whilst lying on the sofa, completely out of it.

He bit his lip. “Shit, I forgot about that,”

“I just don’t want her to have another bad experience like that,” you sighed, whilst picking up your phone to dial the number for the doctor’s surgery. “And you know what people at school can be like,”

“Okay,” he whispered, rubbing your shoulder with his palm. “As long as she gets them eventually. I just don’t want her to get ill,”

—————————————————————————

A week later, the three of you were sat in a cramped doctor’s waiting room. Tilly’s head was planted in Harry’s chest, as he ran his hands through her hair and began to hum a flat tune.

“Why are they always late,” Tilly sniffed. “I just want to go home,”

“I know, lovey. I’m sure they will call us in soon, though,” Harry sighed whilst moving her hair out of the way to press his lips to her forehead. It had been a painstaking twenty minutes, and during that time, the three of you had been unusually quiet, with you looking up occasionally from your magazine to admire your husband, who was sat with his thirteen year old daughter in his arms. In his mind, she would always be his little girl, and would never be too old for a cuddle from him.

“Matilda Styles?” A nurse wearing a light-blue scrubs appeared at the door.

“Come on, baby,” You gestured, Harry now standing up, his arms wrapped around his daughter’s shoulders. The three of you walked together through the dark halls of the surgery, before finally stopping at a room which was painted in cream, with a leather bench in the corner and a desk on the other side. Tilly sat on top of it, the paper crinkling slightly, with Harry coming over to sit down next to her.

“I’m going to be so gentle, sweetheart, I promise,” the nurse said, sensing the thirteen-year-old girl’s growing anxiety, whilst trying to hide the tray of syringes which she was currently preparing at the opposite corner of the room. “You won’t even know I’ve done anything,”

As she placed them down on the table next to her, Tilly’s eyes began to well up, as she flinched when she felt the cold antiseptic wipe rubbing against her shoulder.

“Daddy, I don’t want to,” she began to cry, the colour suddenly draining from her face. “I don’t want to, please,”

“I know babygirl, but it’s going to be so quick,” he exhaled, feeling his heart drumming against his ribcage. She tried to move backwards as she saw the syringe coming towards her out of the corner of her eye, but found Harry behind her, his steady hands preventing her from moving.

Tears were trickling down her face, as she was panting quickly, her breaths becoming faster by the minute. “No, no, no, Daddy please,”

It killed him to have to hold her like this, but he knew it was for the best. “Princess, look at me,” he crooned, cupping her chin in the palm of his hand and turning it towards his chest. “Don’t look.”

He too flinched as he felt her whimper when the needle pierced her flesh. He shuffled over to her other side, as a second needle entered her other arm. She sobbed softly, bundling the material of his cotton t-shirt into her fist.

“It’s all over, sweetheart,” the nurse said, before placing a plaster on each of her shoulders. 

Harry peppered a kiss to her cheek, moving his hand to wipe her tears away. “I knew you could do it, baby. I’m so proud of you,”

“I don’t feel well, Dad,” she moaned as she stood up from the bench, her forehead suddenly sticky with sweat, her face turning a light shade of green. “I don’t-”

Her legs buckled beneath her. Before her head could hit the floor, Harry jumped downwards, cradling her limp body in his arms, her eyes drooping closed.

“Oh my god,” you shouted, taking in the sight of your now unconscious daughter in your husband’s arms. “Oh my god,”

The nurse was now sat on the floor next to Harry, who was wide eyed as he stared down at Tilly. “It’s okay, this happens quite a lot,”

“Baby, can you hear me?” You brushed your palms against her cheeks, holding her head in your hands. 

“Let’s try and get her comfortable,” the nurse said calmly, Harry’s biceps flexing as he slowly lifted her up, almost in the same way as he had done when she was a toddler. He placed her onto the armchair in the corner of the room, before tucking the blanket the nurse had passed to him around her body, which was burning hot under his touch. She gradually tried to open her eyes, and took in her surroundings.

“What happened,” she groaned faintly, as the nurse handed her a carton of orange juice.

“You’re at the doctors, my lovely,” Harry whispered cautiously, being careful not to startle her fully awake. “You had your jabs done, and just gave us all a bit of a fright, that’s all,”

She pressed the straw to her lips before beginning to suck in the juice. “I feel dizzy,”

“It’s okay, baby. As soon as you’re feeling better we’re going to get you home, and you can have some rest,”

He caressed her dainty shoulders, lifting the blanket that had fallen down back up over them.

“Don’t fall asleep, lovey, keep looking at me,” He held her head which was now beginning to fall down in his hand. “Stay awake,”

“Dad, I’m such a wimp, aren’t I?” she laughed. Harry’s lips began to lift up at the corners.

“No, don’t say that, Til. Everyone is afraid of something,” he soothed. “I’ve never told you, but whenever I have to get needles, Mummy always has to hold my hand,” he explained, now moving down to massage her wrists.  “Just like your Dad, aren’t you?”

A small giggle burst from her lips. “Maybe. But I’m not old, and I don’t have grey hairs,”

“Hey, now that’s rude,” he gasped, his pearly white smile now fully on show. He laughed before puckering his lips to smooch her on the cheek. “Oh, I do love you, Tilly Gem,”

[firesarecool]

TLDR: something, something, pomegranate symbolism.

For those who have the fortune of not being on tiktok (im on there for edit audios that i disassociate to), there was a trend that happened a bit back, that was about pomegranates and how peeling them represented loving someone. (usually how guys treat girls, but whatever)

for example: most people peel pomegranates quickly and messily, which means they hurt the pomegranate, aka their partner.

I sort of understood it, and there was one video that stuck with me where someone peeled an entire pomegranate perfectly. they got out all of the seeds intact and left a perfectly clean, intact shell behind.

Today, i decided to try my hand at it, as there was a pomegranate in the house and it needed to be eaten soon.

It was hard. But, it made me think. So here is my take on the symbolism of peeling a pomegranate.

first off, the pomegranate is a person. Peeling it is getting to know them, coming to love them, having them open up to you. The pomegranate can be any person, any kind of love (my aro ass doesn’t do romance, so platonic love is what i was thinking about).

Peeling the pomegranate is hard, but perhaps the hardest part is the initial opening of the pomegranate. Sure, you could use a knife (i didn’t), but you risk cutting into many of the seeds. I used my fingers and peeled off layers until i got to the first layer of seeds. the shell of the pomegranate is the person’s outer layer, what most people know them as… breaking it apart is hard, and if you rip it completely, you hurt your person too much to fix. peeling off the outer layers is like slowly breaking down the persons walls, until you get to their true self.

Then you get to the seeds. in total I popped around 20-30 seeds, which seems like a lot. But i saved at least 500 (pomegranates have anywhere from 200-1400 seeds and this was not a small pomegranate)

The seeds are delicate, even pressing on them too hard will pop them. When dealing with a person you love, rejecting their inner ideas, their seeds, can break that idea, and hurt the person.

Actually everything in the pomegranate is delicate, and you have to be careful while removing the seeds, as one wrong press can rip off some of the inner skin.

getting into the less obvious things. When i peeled my pomegranate, i tried to be careful in the beginning, but i still broke it a lot and ripped off pieces in my attempts to get to the seeds. I was still learning how to peel the pomegranate with out damaging it. Its okay to mess up when you are learning how to love someone.

and you cant go back and undo what you did, so you have to do your best to learn how to do it right, and be careful in the future. If you dwell on all the damage you’ve done, you aren’t careful in the present.

Some of the pomegranate seeds are going to be bad, shriveled up and rotten. dont eat those. dont force yourself to accept the negative rotten parts of someone, set a clear boundary that you wont eat those seeds.

also, dont be afraid to love. when you eat a pomegranate, the thing that you are either breaking or preserving is the shell. the seeds get eaten either way, so dont put in the effort of taking someone apart if you aren’t going to love them.

Finally.

That video i was talking about? the one that stuck with me?

its bullshit.

pomegranates aren’t perfectly clean on the inside. naturally they have color, stains from the juices of seeds gone bad, stains from the growth of seeds, the color is proof that that pomegranate was alive. The person has been living.

And yes, sometimes those stains are from people who have treated the pomegranate roughly, but the pomegranate was not broken open by them. You can’t always know what your loved ones have been through, and you cant undo their pain. but you can treat them with gentleness while you have them.

the caption of the video, by the way, was “it’s not hard, just takes patience.”

again, bullshit.

it is hard. but it’s supposed to be. you cant have a meaningful relationship without putting in effort, without hard work.

anyways! thats my take on the pomegranate symbolism.

In case anyone was curious, heres the end result of my pomegranate escape. first is what i managed to keep intact, second is the waste, third is all the seeds i saved. (i didnt save the rotten seeds, and a couple fell on the floor, so i didnt save them either. those are in the waste bowl)

[2pectrophobiia]

At the Defense of the Fallen | Drarry

-

What if Draco was in the woods instead of the castle when Voldemort killed Harry?

I haven’t written anything in a while, but I found a TikTok audio from the song “A Hazy Shade of Winter” and thought of this scene so I hope you enjoy it

Warnings: mentions of death, torture (the cruciartis curse but it’s never mentioned by name), there is no fluff it’s just pain, Implied Drarry

———————————————————————————

And there he was, the savior of the Wizarding world dead on the forest floor.

Draco Malfoy felt completely stunned, unable to peel his eyes away from the scene. It was like he came to die, like he knew this would happen. Harry, the boy he had come to know for being stubborn in his ways and refusing to give up no matter what the circumstances were. The Harry he watched from afar with his friends, longing for that friendship and connection. The Harry Potter who never backed down from a fight, even when cornered.

His fists shook as the rest of the death eaters around him applauded, celebrating the death of the Dark Lord’s one true enemy. Now they would be unstoppable, and all hope felt lost in Draco.

Voldemort’s laugh was the clearest of all, hissy and shrill. It made Draco’s head hurt. He watched with baited breath as he took a few steps forward and silenced himself, staring at Harry’s lifeless body.

He then looked over to Draco’s mother, Narcissa, motioning with a jerk of his head to check the body.

It all happened in an instant, he didn’t even think of what he was doing before Draco found himself moving forward, moving swiftly in front of Harry’s body. He faced Voldemort directly, hands open at his sides to block anyone from coming any closer. Draco had no wand, no way of defending himself from any sort of attack but he would be damned if he let them desecrate Harry Potter’s body.

But the thing was, Harry Potter himself was very much alive.

Harry’s eyes were wide in horror at the scene playing out behind his back, one wrong move and they were both dead. He knew this, and- unable to think of a way out of this scenario- had to remain frozen on the bed of the forest.

“Draco..” Narcissa muttered in mock confusion, eyes violent in alarm for her son’s safety. Voldemort let out what sounded like a groan.

“Step aside Draco, or have you come to die, too?”

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but choked and swallowed his words. The anger twisting in Voldemort’s face only intensified.

“I won’t let you touch him.” Draco managed to get out, but his voice cracked with fear. He had always done things silently for Harry, never outwardly speaking his intentions. When he would find book reports edited or his favorite snacks in his bags, it would be Draco. When Harry was being targeted by the school, Draco did his best to lure those away from him and place the attention of the student body on someone else. He had always resented him for refusing his friendship when they were kids, but fuck it all if that meant he deserved to die.

So there he stood, in front of the Dark Lord, arms spread while a flash of Green light soared his way, and Draco Malfoy lay writhing in pain on the ground.

The leaves crunched underneath him as he squirmed, but you couldn’t hear it over the guttural screams coming from Draco’s throat. He couldn’t breathe from how searing the pain was, spreading in waves that got more intense as time went on. And then as suddenly as it started, it was over.

Draco laid as still on the ground as he could, weak and shallow breaths escaping him. Through hazy eyes, he could see the blurry figures he came here with getting smaller as they abandoned him there, their hisses and dull conversations died at a whisper. Feeling the tears dripping down his cheeks, he whimpered as he forced himself to his knees, attempting to catch his breath. He glanced over to Harry’s body, proud in his meek effort to protect him-

And his eyes met those of emerald green

[fashiononfilmm]

New Year New Me: Back To School Edition ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

In honor of back to school season it's only right if we take a look at the outfits from some of our favorite scholars featured on TV starting with the rise of “Rory Gilmore fall” Rory's style was very minimal with basic staple pieces like plain long sleeves tees, cozy sweaters, classic denim jeans and skirts with mainly warm and cool tones.

Along with the rise of “Demure” on TikTok, Rory’s style is also gaining traction. Many influencers have started to re-create their own version of her style while using some of her iconic lines for their audio.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Sally Zeid Alhadidi (@sally.alhadidi)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Shivani ౨ৎ (@shivanijune)

For those wearing uniforms don’t worry we’ve got some inspo for you too. Let's take a look at some of our favorite characters from Gossip Girl during their time at Constance. Although uniforms were mandatory they still managed to elevate their style. Chunky bags are the perfect way to elevate your school uniform as they are an alternative for your average backpack.

Chunky bags are a trend that we will start to see more in this season as micro bags are starting to make their way out. Chunky bags come in various colors and they can be dressed up or down with accessories and fun embellishments.

Now that you know how to start off the school year, stay tuned for our next post where we will discuss “Fall Trends”. REMEMBER, confidence is your BEST accessory.

XOXO Kailey, May and Madeline

[m1ckeyb3rry]

A

LMAOOOO yeah lowk it was still more funny than embarrassing for me catching that typo here but if I found it after I sent it to someone else I think I’d be a goner

(Also wait speaking of I forgot to mention you’re seriously a trooper for reading all of orv…I followed the comic for awhile but I have a friend whose obsessed with it and like summarized the entire novel to me in like an essay (I’m still confused as hell because I lost track of the details) but after hearing it all from them it’s truly a ride…)

NOOO I SAW!! Ofc it’s sae LMAO classic itoshi scenario…yk maybe Karasu nation will come in clutch last minute…(I’m ngl I’m kinda glad none of those characters are on there oops LMAOOO I also don’t think they’d have much to do with aiku and honestly there’s so many works of them all) Ok I still kinda feel like it’s a win tho bc Karasu and Barou in second and third???

FRRR the edits are gonna go so hard…just imagine the Barou stripping scene LMAOO (the dudebros glazing Barou are everywhere omg)

I love how “the white haired dude” is an archetype of its own it’s so funny but so real…(gotta confess Im usually in the white haired dude fan section like somehow I end up gravitating to them too)

IM CRYING THE PARENTHESES it just goes on“or fifth…sixth……15th…” LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO

I’m crying your writing has made MY standards too high but honestly so real…even seabird sae is already better than like…a good majority of the population out there this is lowk sad

LMAOAO THE SELF HELP BOOKS I see the vision the purple green was also perfect for him

OOOOH I guess we’ve just gotta see what tiktok audio pops up on your fyp LOL but I’m excited I was leaning towards chigiri or Barou I was looking cooking way more for their ideas

LOL it’s ok that Nagi requester will get Nagi content from oaeu too!! I’m actually so hyped for the series

LMAO I plugged them into a generator and got Karasu!! I guess it’s the universe telling me not to stray from Karasu nation….lowk almost forgot that he’s essentially my namesake I got too desensitized to it so the generator really said remember your origins

OHHHHHHHHHH wait that’s kinda stupid on tumblrs part wdym the creator can’t see the results unless they vote??? SHDHS thats actually so annoying your rant is so valid (also just generally feel free to go wild ranting or venting it’s all good w me) im ngl if you want the next time you make a poll i can just vote early on and keep you updated on the results if you don’t wanna have that option there for people to screw with…but BRO YUKI AND OTOYA???? I know they generally still lag behind Karasu in terms of popularity s2 please save them

LMAO nah it’s perfectly reasonable and valid like some people don’t have the brain development for proper impulse control ig like damn

Ok well in the time I was writing it ig it’s over now good for you sae fans good for you (BOOO TOMATO TOMATO /j)

- Karasu anon

HAHAH our freaks are so matched i don’t even blink at 90% of your typos we truly are the same person LMAOAO

omg i LOVEDDDD orv i read it on my phone in the summer of 2023 when i had nothing else to do and it was genuinely so so good like the novel is PEAK i never read the webcomic version because i’m attached to the translations in the novel even though they’re not “official” but genuinely the novel is probably one of if not THE best things i’ve ever read like it actually changed my brain chemistry fr (it’s a long build but the ending arc is peak fiction)

SAE WON 💔 but very proud of karasu nation and barou nation for locking in and getting them so close to sae that was def unexpected!! and yeahhh that’s the vibe i was getting too like there’s no way for them to realistically be involved w aiku so it wouldn’t make sense for them to be there PLUS i don’t like them that much so i can’t cook up an idea to involve them w aiku the way i did w nagi 😰 speaking of which i think i have the idea for yukimiya HAHA basically aiku is like “okay we’re the two oldest blue lock members let’s be best friends 😄” and yukimiya is like “thanks but i already have a bestie ☺️” and ofc aiku is like WHAT and has to do some heavy recon (he probs recruits niko too LMAO atp niko is an honorary wingman just because he’s consistently aiku’s sidekick) and that’s where he finds reader which makes be like “hold on there is definitely something romantic going on here” so he tries to get yuki and reader together in order to finally have a soccer playing bff who’s also relatively normal (@ barou)

the craziest thing abt dude bros glazing barou is that he’s physically their ideal but in every other way he is NOTHING like them!! like that man respects women, cooks and cleans, is willing to accept his mistakes and work on them, hates people who are mid…he would think they’re goofy asf 😭

KDJDKSSJ i normally don’t really go for the white haired characters but nagi is an exception…my other top favs have been eren from aot (brown hair), megumi and yuta from jjk (black hair), and shinah from yotd (blue hair??) HAHA honesty karasu and rin are very in line w the kinds of characters i typically like physically but idk smth abt nagi appeals to me the most 🙂‍↕️

FBKDDNSJSN luckily it was NOT shidou!! i’m going to repost it so i’m sure you’ll know by the time you read this but i got chigiri 🤩 which honestly i can actually see but specifically his actual canon miraverse characterization NOT his overly feminized fandom self 😭 apparently they originally thought nagi which slay but they came to the same realization i did a while ago which is that as much as i love him the two of us are too similar in some ways and too different in other ways so we would actually not work out irl 😓💔 honestly chigimira wasn’t one i was necessarily expecting but it might be what i needed (idk if i could muster up a long fic idea for chigiri…maybe?? we will see #tbd)

LMAOAAO me when a man slides into my dms but he doesn’t buy me plane tickets and an expensive sandwich 😒 abt to start telling everyone i have a bf or smth HAHA because unless a man is miraverse bllk men level he’s simply not replacing nagi or karasu or sae or whoever 🥱

HELPP i’m glad the vision comes through i rlly like this cover!! i think i’m going to put the character’s name where it said “masterlist” on the masterlist so it’s easy to tell who the individual oneshot is abt 🤩 don’t want people to start reading expecting an aiku fic (at least until the last part which actually is for aiku)

i just got a barou request HAHA so it’ll def be chigiri or MAYBE bachira depending on what i feel inspired for!! agreed it’s time to open tik tok and feel the vibes out for what i want to write next…maybe watch some edits too while i’m at it for further assistance 😏

HAHA no fr stay true to your origins…i’m going to write all of them eventually anyways so it’s not that deep but i just wanted to figure out where I should start since all of them have such good premises that i can’t decide!! rip otoya and yukimiya though…hoping s2 + oaeu converts more people 😰

for now i think it should be okay like it’s nbd since so many other people do vote as well it’s just like a personal pet peeve HFKDJDSJS we all have smth that makes us tweak i suppose…i’m just in my isagi on field era 😩 i don’t do polls that often so it shouldn’t be a huge issue but expect me to have at least a paragraph in our convos crashing out over that whenever i do end up making a poll 😭

sae nation is too strong…they’re inevitable fr KFJDKD honestly proud of karasu and reo for hanging on for a bit that’s impressive 🤩 in the end though an itoshi bro is basically a guaranteed win (unless like i said kaiser or MAYBE isagi are in the running too)

[angelmichelangelo]

i am SO EXCITED for ur gore au!! from the sounds of it so far, it seems like each of the hamato fam is a bit torn and malformed because of shredder, which makes me think of paper mâché. like. shredded* bits of paper coming together to make something that's slightly mishapen but sticks together and is full of heart anyways. idk. this home is made of paper mâché... are you seeing my vision? IDK IM AN ENGLISH MAJOR AND TRYING MY BEST.

anyways- YES all the audio and character quips of the arcade game are the og VAs, even for the bad guys which is SO FUN IT MAKES MY BRAIN GO BRRRR. i have returned to the arcade a handful of times and don't plan on stopping anytime soon 🤭 ALSO every single tmnt edit i see to the mamas boy audio makes me go absolutely feral i eat them all UP dude. i've seen so much variety too, like 12leo with splinter, rise raph with karai, 12april with her freaky mom in that one episode, etc etc AND I SAVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!!!

oh my god i absolutely love that idea? it’s like some freaky arts and crafts gone wrong!! definitely keeping that paper mache idea in my back pocket 👀👀

but yes. they are indeed a broken family. i cant wait to put them through The Horrors hehe :3

and about the arcade game - that’s so cool!!! im literally still in awe over that. i haven’t seen anyone else ever mention such a game so i think you got super lucky there lol

THE MAMAS BOY EDITS:( every now and then a pretty heartbreaking audio will do the rounds on tiktok and the tmnt edits that come out of it are… painful. it was the ‘beautiful boy’ edits before (the leo and mikey ones were just OUCH!!!) and now ive been sucker punched again