#but i ended up going with the pen display for work related stuff

[corvarrow]

Alright, I couldn't decide how to best present my thoughts about this art challenge, so here's just a summary screenshot to start with - if you would like to see the big versions with the lore you can check out my tag, and the actual list itself is here!

And without further ado, here are my thoughts on this art challenge and finishing it!

Things that helped me finish the challenge

Taking a break day (or two) a week – I have a day job so this was absolutely required to not burn out, lol

Having a theme – This was nor originally intentional, but keeping it worldbuilding related really helped me come up with ideas as there were several prompts where I was just coming up with nothing otherwise.

Small canvas size – These are all fairly small - it was a 6x6 pad. Originally thought it was going to be too small, but ended up being perfect. Since I opted to do full blown scenes I don’t think I would have finished otherwise

Limited Palette/Materials – I learned this from completing previous challenges, but the fewer decisions I have to make the easier it is to do these. This one happened to actually be ink (see materials section) but I have done challenge before with like, "single set of markers"

Displaying the Art – I didn’t like having a loose stack of completed pictures, so I bought a 6x6 photo album to store them in. This was a great decision as they look very cool in there I was very motivated to complete the set

Completion Stickers - Yes, I am 2 years old. I had a paper list where I was putting stickers next to each word as I completed it, and it was very satisfying >_>a

Stuff I liked

Able to practice a medium - Yeah by the end I was feeling way more confident with ink and different techniques (wet on wet, wet on dry, etc)

Got to practice scenes and lighting – I even fit in a ton of OC cameos

Posted all pieces regardless of quality - Although this was not my first list-based challenge it is the first one I posted ALL pieces for

Got some fun pieces to revisit later - There are quite a few I REALLY like for different reasons so it would be fun to do them again later, but spend more time

Kept a consistent quality for the whole challenge - It was tempting to "get lazy" at the end but I think I managed to keep the same general quality the entire time

Used up a bunch of pages in a sketchbook I’m not overly fond of by doing tons of thumbnails - To be quite honest, if I have a sketchbook I hate enough (because the paper is bad or whatever) I will often uh, dismantle them. 8Da; I am not overly fond of the one I'm currently using, but now there's only about 14 pages left so, I will persevere.

Stuff I didn’t like

Time commitment required - Even with the breaks, I was spending almost all evening for 5 weeks working on these, which was a little Much for me. I will have to rethink my approach to any future challenges.

Using WIP designs/Not being able to spend a lot of time on anything – There’s a couple pieces where I wanted to go a certain direction and had to go with Vibes rather than accuracy for the sake of getting it done….which is fine, some of them turned out nice regardless. However would have still liked to hammer things out a little more.

Materials Used

Artsnacks Inktober Box, with some modifications - Something you should know about Artsnacks, is that often the colored materials will be the brand shown, but the color you actually receive will be random. Luckily, I got an Orange ink. Unfortunately, I also have terrible luck with PH Martin’s Orange in that it always separates no matter how much I mix it, so partway through the challenge I replaced it with a Daler Rowney Flame Orange Ink. This is a VERY similar ink, the only difference I really saw was that when diluted a lot it leaned more yellow. Additionally I did not use the blue Faber Castel Pitt pen in the box. TECHNICALLY I could have made green for all those plant pictures, but I refused for the sake of keeping a cohesive Black/Orange color scheme

Ranger Craft-It! Heat Gun - I would not have been able to finish had I not been able to speed up the drying time with this thing, it is the best

Lots of background noise - My noise of choice was a mix between scary cave and cave diving stories, as well as the White Vault podcast, which is a fictional horror audio drama

Bonus Round: Number of OC Appearances

Tower: x4

Torch: x4 (one of them in his plantbeast form)

Cavi: x3

Mady: x1 (also the only non-sion in this list)

Team "New/WIP OCs" -

Aki: x5 (one of them as a doll)

Jas: x2

Aki's sibling (final name pending): x1 (as a statue)

[apticho]

have you ever tried drawing on ipad? do you have any experience with procreate? :0

i dont have an ipad TT but i do draw on a pen display so maybe thats somewhat on the same level?? XD!! i never used procreate before unfortunately, but im really loving the brushes i see friends use on it ^^!!!

[saphirered]

Drowned Sorrows (Vagrant pt2.)

Caleb settles at the table in your shared room, ink and paper ready to go to work and you grab your stuff making way to leave when Caleb stops you, stepping in your path to the door, arms crossed and eyes burning into you. You try to step around him but he just moves with you until you give up. Apparently He’s adamant on talking.

“What the hell do you want?” You roll your eyes at his childish means from preventing you from leaving the room.

“This has gone on long enough.” Caleb states.

“What has?” You play dumb and Caleb gives you a disapproving look akin to a teacher scolding a student and you could just wring the life out of him for for it. Gods, can he just leave you be?

“You know exactly what.”

“Please, by all means, enlighten me, oh grand master Widogast.” You mock and now it’s Caleb’s turn to roll his eyes. Do you have to be so annoying? Why can’t you just act like an adult?

“If you insist. Why do you run out of the room whenever I study? Why do you feel the need to cringe and cower whenever I do anything even remotely magic related?” Caleb asks as you shake your head biting your tongue. This man… This man has some guts to call you out like he has but you suppose maybe this whole thing between the two of you wouldn’t have been as much of an issue if the two of you could just talk about your issues instead of bottling it up until you burst in moments like these, usually ending in some kind of shouting match followed by the silent treatment until Nott makes you ‘kiss and make up’ like she’s your mom.

“It’s none of your business, Caleb. Now let me out.” You once again try to push past him but he doesn’t let you. “Try me, Widogast or I’ll-“ You threaten but are cut off.

“Do what? You won’t use your magic beyond rudimentary practices. What could you possibly do?” Caleb pushes. You know he’s pushing your buttons, your anger only another means to get answers for himself and you hate yourself for falling for his calculated move but you still do.

“You don’t want to find out, Widogast. It didn’t end well for the last people.” There it is. That’s what he’d been waiting for. Those words alone, that threat is not an empty one. You wouldn’t harm him, not permanently at least but there’s a truth to your words and Caleb knows his calculated move to piss you off is paying off. He’ll have to tread carefully if he wants more answers and not actually provoke your wrath.

Shit. Shit shit shit. ‘It didn’t end well for the last people’. Shit. You didn’t want those words to leave your lips at all. Ever. Stupid Caleb fucking Widogast. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You can’t deal with this right now and try to push him out of the way but Caleb hardly budges. You half contemplate leaving through the window just to make a point but you’d rather not draw that kind of attention to yourself.

“Veiled threats and half truths. Those are a coward’s words who doesn’t intend to make true on their promises.” Oh you’re this far away from kicking his ass.

“Well it takes one to know one.” You hiss. “You might want to think twice. We still share a room and I will not hesitate to smother you with a pillow while you sleep. Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” You feel a tingling in your fingertips, frustration running through your face with just a tiny hint of fear. You ball your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. Last thing you need is to lose control right now but Caleb doesn’t have to know that.

Caleb steps out of the way, allowing you to pass. He stares you down until you close the door behind you, sharing one last glare before you’re off doing whatever you can to not be in any proximity of that room.

————

Hours later Nott has fallen asleep at the foot of Jester’s bed, the tiefling herself curled up comfortably. Beau’s sprawled out across her own bed limbs dangling off each side as she snores. You’d fallen asleep sitting against Beau’s bed until her hand slapped you in the face rudely pulling you from your not so comfortable sleeping position. You get up and stretch your limbs, cracking your back. Hopefully Caleb will have gone to sleep himself and you’ll be able to make it to your own bed without dealing with the wizard at this late, or rather early hour.

Exiting the girls’ room you see Fjord slumped against the wall near to his room, giggles and moans coming from the room he shares with Mollymauk. This time he had the sense to bring a pillow but Fjord still looked about as comfortable as anyone could be sleeping against the wall of one of the most expensive places in all of Zadash. You contemplated waking him and telling him to take your bed instead but you don’t doubt you’ll lose your comfy bed forever if you switched roommates. Don’t want to set any precedents because in all honesty, rather him than you having to deal with the lavender tiefling living his life to the fullest. Still, you take your cloak, throwing it over the half-orc gently as you move on to your room.

You don’t see any candle light bleeding through the narrow slit beneath the door so you count yourself lucky as you quietly open the door and slide in, tiptoeing over to your bed, putting your things down and beginning to get ready to sleep. You pull the silk covers back and lay down, making yourself comfortable and close your eyes. You can still smell the scent of that fine parchment and ink. You can almost hear the phantom scribbling of a pen over that paper, dipping into the ink vial every so often to replenish. It’s pure torture. The sound needs to stop. The smell needs to go and despite you trying to use some prestidigitation to get rid of the smell, changing it to those overly fragrant flowers at the shop you passed by a few days ago, the smell is still stuck in your nostrils, the sound still trapped in your ears, the damage already done.

You turn over onto your back, pulling the pillow from beneath you and pulling it over your head, releasing a frustrated but soft muffled scream more akin to a sigh into the plush feathers. The darkness behind your eyelids doesn’t help as you feel a vision of a room creep in, one etched into your memory just as that scent and sound are. Accompanied by feelings of pain and fear, desperation and helplessness, is the feeling of being completely and utterly trapped. No matter your tossing and turning, it all remains and the walls close in, sleep couldn’t be further out of your reach. That is until the lights turn on. A gentle orange glow fills the room and you’re pulled away from your memories and back into the room you share with Caleb.

“Would you stop your tossing and turning, please.” Caleb asks groggy, the sound of moving fabrics and endless sighs having awoken him from his own sleep. Caleb turns over to see you sitting, elbows on your bent knees and head in your hands as you try to stabilise your breathing, counting under your breath like its a life line. You may not exactly be friends and quarrel more often than not, that doesn’t mean he can’t be worried for you. Something’s clearly wrong and it doesn’t take an expert to see that.

“Are you alright?” He asks carefully turning to a half seated position to get a better view of you.

“Just go back to sleep, Caleb.” You grumble not moving from your position. No quip back, no witty remark, not even actual annoyance or a half threat to let Jester draw dicks in his precious books. The position you’re in, the traits you’re displaying are also familiar to him. He’s found himself in a similar situation many times and while you may have said it before as an offence, it’s true no less; takes one to know one. You’re reliving trauma, or at least coming back from reliving a traumatic memory of some kind. Triggered by what exactly?

“I’ll go back to sleep when I’m sure I won’t be awoken again every ten minutes.” In other words; talk.

“Piss off.” You spit raising from your bed, reaching for your bag. Instead you find an orange tabby raising it’s back and hissing at you, by the command of his master no doubt. You have half the mind to pick the cat up by the scruff and toss him at the wizard but right now you just want out.

“You can’t keep running away from your problems forever.” The words hit hard. Caleb’s right but why does it sound like a statement not solely directed at you? You know exactly why. You might not exactly have had any bonding moments with Caleb and he’s been shifty about his past but you know the words of someone who tries to deny that same truth themself.

“It seems to work just perfectly for you. Hypocrite.” It sounded like a curse. Hypocrite. Caleb had known for a long time but having it thrown so bluntly at his face, it hurt. He doesn’t lash out in anger or hit back with an equally venomous retort but instead just stares at you with pity. He really does pity you. He may not know the story but he knows that pain and no one should have to endure that. Still it’s your choice to keep it to yourself. It’s your choice to keep it all bottled up and locked away. No matter what he says, or does for that matter, he can’t change your mind, or even help you despite your differences, if you don’t allow anyone in, regardless of your like, or dislike in his case, for the person. He can’t help someone who won’t help themselves. And that’s exactly what makes him the biggest hypocrite here. His pain is his punishment.

“Where are you going?” Caleb asks as you push Frumpkin aside just enough to reach for your coin pouch, the cat hissing and clawing at your hands until he falls silent again. You open the door looking back one last time.

“To find a rooftop with a good view and drown my sorrows.” You close the door behind you and do exactly that. A bottle or two of good booze acquired and a nice rooftop found. The view would have been nice weren’t it cloudy. Halfway through your first bottle the gods decided to shit in your dish by the sound of rolling thunder and rain pouring down from the skies by the buckets, drenching you to the bone in a matter of seconds. You debated going back inside but you’re stubborn and stayed on that rooftop watching the water spill over the drains until you were shaking from the cold. Maybe suffering from hypothermia isn’t worth making a statement.

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (5)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START  / RREV / NEXT

Ms Iroi always tries to engage him in conversation whenever she comes in, asking questions and chatting to herself in a fruitless attempt at helping him recover his 'lost' memories. Most of the time, Kakashi is indifferent to her presence and always has a magazine handy as an excuse not to talk.

Today, Iroi is in a particularly good mood, humming to herself, greeting him with an energetic, “How are you doing today!”

Kakashi grunts a noncommittal response which doesn’t do much to discourage the woman’s good mood as she runs through a check-up routine.  

“You should try watching U.A’s sports festival tomorrow. I hear it’s going to be particularly spectacular this year,” she says as she pulls the blinds on Kakashi's window, blocking out the distant city lights. 

U.A? he recognises the name. Kakashi glances up over the pages of HERO!! MONTHLY BREAKDOWN. It is the third time he has read this issue.

“You know, since you like reading those hero magazines, I figured you would be interested in watching the ‘next generation of heroes’ debut,” she continues, noting his attention, “U.A always puts on a good show.”

Kakashi frowns. The problem with his amnesia cover story is that he is still trying to figure out what he can get away with not remembering. So far the doctor’s seem content to chalk up the disappearance of his long term memories to a ‘quirk’ accident but were always more concerned when he failed to recall basic factual information. Something to do with different parts of the brain being responsible for different types of information.

 “Watch how?” He settles on asking. U.A. was supposed to be a hero-training academy so whatever this ‘sports festival’ was was worth checking out. 

“Oh,” Iori pauses to think, “I, ah, think channel 2 with be covering it?” she hesitates, “You know what. I’ll look it up and let you know later. Sorry, I can’t carry my phone around with me while on shift.”

“Thank you.” He smiles and makes a show of returning to his magazine to dissuade further conversation.

Later the same evening, just before the end of the evening shift, Iori pokes her head into his room again. She is out of uniform, long hair untired, waving to catch his attention.

“The coverage is on channel 2 and starts at 11am,” She holds up her portable communication devise like it means something.  It probably did mean something. The frequency by which people checked them suggested it had a function beyond basic communication. He has held off attempting to steal one because, unlike pens, people would notice and care if one went missing.  

“Have fun watching! Oh… also, I forgot to ask…”

Kakashi raises a brow.

“I have a bunch of old gossip magazines. Mum used to read them all the time and there are a few hero-themed ones in the mix. I can bring them in if you want more stuff to read.” 

“If you want.” Iori must have noticed him re-reading the magazines. 

"I'll bring them on Friday!"

Iori had been unsubtly hinting that Kakashi might have had a history in heroics. It definitely wasn’t because reading information on a page just made sense when compared to the barrage of conflicting reports the television gave him. A few weeks with only the television as his information source has him writing off most of its information as useless or propaganda.  

…

...

“HEELLLOOOOO, LISTENERS!”

Kakashi stares dully as the video footage, which had been giving him a bird’s eye view of a positively massive stadium, changes to a sweeping shot of what must be thousands of people crammed into seats. It almost makes him claustrophobic just watching it.

“WELLCOME TO OUR ANNUAL U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL! THE HIGH SCHOOL ADOLESCENT RODEO YOU ALL LOVE TO WATCH. CAN A GET A ‘OH YEAH!’”

As if of one mind, thousands of people leap to their feet screaming. The camera angle changes again to show a grinning blond-haired man, seated at a desk and pointing enthusiastically at the camera. All these shot changes are going to give him a headache. Kakashi is already having reservations watching this and its only10 minutes.

“Thank you! You’re an AMAZING audience!”

 It almost reminds him of the final Chunin Exam stages -if the Chunin exams had had three times the audience - which always involved some sort of combat display.  There hadn’t been any public Chunin Exams recently for reasons such as a large portion of Konoha being flattened by Pein.

“FIRST UP ARE OUR FIRST-YEAR EVENTS! And what an exciting round of events they are, perfect for debuting our newest students! Give us a shout so they can feel your support!”

Another loud shot as thousands of people yelled in unison.

“Come on! Louder than that! These are your future Heroes I’m talking about! SHOW THEM SOME LOVE!”

More yelling. Kakashi turns down the volume.

“But! Wait just a minute!! We're not only here for our Hero students! As I'm sure you all know, behind every great hero is a hardworking support team! GIVE IT UP FOR our Support, Management and General departments who are also competing for a chance to face off in the finals!”

Kakashi sighs. He is getting the sense that this might be more for entertainment than utility purposes, conforming to the general trend of Hero-related stuff being flashy. Different from the Chunin exam which had deadly consequences if not taken seriously.

“Hey. Hey! HERE THEY COME NOW! OUR STUDENTS PARTICIPATING IN THE FIRST YEAR STAGE!”

What follows is an overly dramatized race where the only thing of interest to him are the obstacle types, including robots, - mobile mechanical weapons of some sort that produced a lot of environmental damage but were taken down fairly easily- and explosive devices that acted a lot like explosive tags. Then there was a team elimination round and one-on-one tournament fights after which the coverage shifts to the second year and third year stages.

He uncovers the sharingun only to discover that, while its memorisation function worked fine, the part that translated the movements into muscle memory felt off. Perhaps, the replication and copying component of the eye didn’t work when viewing a technique through a screen rather than in person. Interesting. As there wasn't anything particularly impressive technique-wise during the events he counts the new information as a net gain. 

The student-heroes – he is not sure if there is an official term for a hero in training – barely match Konoha’s academy standard in their taijutsu and physical conditioning though there was marked improvement between first, second and third-year groups. These students were what...between 14-18 years old...and yet most had the skill level of an academy  students and fresh genuin with only a few notable exceptions?

Sure, there were - honestly ridiculous- versatile and powerful bloodline abilities being thrown around like nothing, but ninjutsu techniques only took a shinobi so far without a strong base to work from. He shakes his head, reminding himself that these kids - because what else did you call combatants who hadn’t graduated yet- weren’t shinobi in training and would be policing civilians and engaging ‘Villains’ of similar skill levels. It was obvious that the students favoured non-lethal takedown methods and put little to no thought into stealth and misdirection during fights. 

Different words…different priorities. 

As Kakashi has yet to see any evidence that the country, Japan, was at war with another he thinks the skill level displayed might be serviceable. There were also no major conflicts between the country’s large cities over farmland, water sources and the like. Obviously, this place had sorted out the resource and distribution issues usually encountered when supporting such large populations. Or, who knows, maybe everything on the television was a carefully constructed lie to lull people into complacency.

Now he has seen an example of hero-students, he better understands the low combat ability demonstrated by the police. It also gives incite into the blurry recordings of Hero/Villain confrontations which played on repeat across the various ‘news’ reports. They all tended to hover around Chunin or maybe Special Jounin in terms of skill. He knows generalisations are dangerous so, until he saw the combat in person, he would exercise his usual level of caution. There were bound to be outliers after all-the impressive brute strength of the number one hero comes to mind- and there was no telling what advantages a bloodline ability might provide. Absently, he makes testing the susceptibly of people without chakra to genjustu as something to figure out sooner rather than later.

He sighs. This is why he hated the television. Whenever he watched it, he came away increasingly confused, with more questions than he had answers. Not to mention anything useful being constantly interrupted with information detailing one of the many products that he could apparently buy here. It irritated him to no end. 

...

...

The chakra collecting seal is ready before the week is out. Mostly ready...it was ready enough.

Kakashi returns to the roof. Sitting cross-legged, back against the stairway entrance, he works his way through the 100 or so pens, cracking them open and tapping out ink into a large bowl, stolen -like the pens -from hospital staff.

The mix of black, blue and red ink is gluggy, forcing him to add water to thin the solution out. Once satisfied he pulls out an appropriated scalpel – one of a growing collection hidden alongside his pens because having a stash of weapons is never a bad thing- pricking his middle finger, watching the blood drip and curdle with the mixture. The blood would be absorbed into the ink, allowing it to conduct chakra. He mixes everything with pair of disposable chopsticks, taking care not to spill it on the ground or stain his hands.

The whole process reminds him of other insistences where he had improvised fuinjutsu ink in the field. The last time being during his final Anbu missions where he had created a body storage scroll from scratch after unexpectedly losing a squad mate on what should have been a simple intel retrieval mission. Not a particularly fond memory but a memory he was stuck with.

Since his demotion to Jonin-sensei there had been fewer of those sorts of missions. Not that being a Jonin-sensei had been easy – considering all his students had gone off to find other teachers he didn't even think he had been particularly good at it - bringing with it its own special brand of stress, culminating in a stint as Hokage, a fourth war and him stuck here. He is pretty sure his experiences aren't universal. Team 7 was just cursed to fail in increasingly spectacular ways.

He lets out a heavy sigh, leaving his airways open to a sudden gust of cold wind which carries the scent of cleaning chemicals from the hospital and oil from the road straight up his nose. He exhales forcefully and mentally bumps finding a face mask up his list of priorities. It would be good for hiding his features and dulling the artificial smells of a city housing over a million people.

The sound of wind whistling around the building almost blocks out the echo of feet in the stairway, approaching his location. In one smooth motion, Kakashi stands pushing the remaining broken pen back into the vent, nudging the cover back in place with his foot. Carefully he holds the bowl of ink in his injured arm and a scalpel in the other. Kakashi steps back against the entrance so the outward opening door would hide him from whoever came out.

A crying kid comes barrelling through the door.

Well, not completely crying, more like sniffing loudly, eyes all shiny. He even recognises the kid from the U.A combat demonstration, as improbable as that was. It is the first year hero student with the speed-enhancing ability which, seeing him up close, probably had something to do with the strange growths coming out of his caff muscles. High speed movement put enormous strain on the body so he could reasonably conclude that the kid was physically resilient to acceleration stress and similar forces. Not resilient to stabbing though....

Kakashi forces himself to relax, his scalpel lowering ever so slightly. Lucky he had heard the kid coming or he might have accidentally hurt him. A few weeks of reduced sleep coupled with a lot of time to ruminate on past missions and failures has put him on edge. This was exactly why he disliked taking extended breaks. 

Maybe, Kakashi should start relocking the stairway if he was planning to make regular trips up here because the young male probably hadn’t had the roof in mind as a destination. Kakashi knows from experience that, unless you were injured or a member of staff, there were few good reasons to wander around a hospital at odd hours.

With the hero-student distracted sniffling into his arm, Kakashi slips around the door and back down the stairs. He hadn’t planned on applying the seal on the roof anyway. Too exposed to the elements and the concrete was too rough for the delicate line work.

He continues mixing while he walks, having mentally mapped the hospital well enough to know which hallways to use and which to avoid. There is a surgeon with some sort of heat-sensing vision who works late most nights that he must be careful around and a nurse with a weak proximity based empathic ability working in paediatrics. Both obstacles force him to take a meandering detour on his way to the ground floor and  the larger shower blocks which housed  cubicles the size of small rooms. Enough smooth floorspace for the expanded seal design and easy to clean afterwards. He supposes he is lucky, some complicated fuinjutsu required several meters worth of floor space. The containment on Saskue’s cursed seal comes to mind and he is glad that this seal is infinity smaller.

Not one to waste time knowing that nurses and patients regularly used the space even this late in the evening, he immediately slips into a cubicle upon arrival. Flopping onto the floor he pulls out the paintbrush he had had scour the hospital for and eventually to steal from the children’s ward. Carefully, he begins the slow process of application.

…

…

The final seal design is circular, about the size of his splayed hand, positioned on his uninjured shoulder just above where his Anbu seal had previously sat. The sleepwear provided by the hospital had sleeves that extend just past his bicep. It hid the design, for the most part. The final visible seal is a bit bigger than he had predicted or planned for. If this were a proper infiltration mission, where blowing his cover came at the price of death, he would be in big trouble. If this were a proper mission, he would have waited before applying this. An unnecessary risk. He itches the back of his head, turning from where he is craning his neck to see the seal, gathering up his supplies to be thrown in one of the hospital’s many rubbish bins. Kakashi lets out a breath. Maybe, this whole ‘trapped in a different world’ thing is affecting him more than he was willing to admit and making him sloppy.

He pulls down the sleeve so it mostly hides the design. Not like the doctors here would recognise the significance of fuinjutsu, he reminds himself, even if their questions would be annoying to deflect.

He pumps chakra into the seal and a jolt akin to lightning runs down his limb. It activates without issue and Kakashi grimaces as his chakra is slowly drained and collected. The rate of the drain is pathetically slow. Three years too slow. But, between this and his sharingan - which was always active and draining chakra- he can’t risk making it quicker. Despite the relatively low-level threats around him, Kakashi is, first and foremost, a Jonin in an unknown territory who is already taking risks simply making and applying the seal. He can’t afford to impair himself with poor chakra management on top of everything else.

Kakashi pops his head out of the cubical, scanning the shower block. Nothing of note has changed and he darts out, intent on returning to his room. He is tired and it would be a long, tiresome week as his body adjusted to the strain as well.

NEXT  

[rocketink]

LOST AND FOUND

In which you lose your stuff all the time but your first-floor neighbour somehow always has it for you. Or, in a soulmate world, your soulmate finds everything you loses and reverse.

pairing: minghao x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, crack + neighbor & soulmate! Au 

wc: 2.2k+

warnings: none I think (this type of soulamte thingy is kinda crazy tho). Btw this is my first au so I’m sorry fpr any mistakes!! + English is not my first language so apologies :)

notes: I migh turn this into a series since I’ve thought about some details here and there as I wrote this au?? What do you think?? 

The situation inside your apartment has turned unbearable, and you know should have moved with Joshua when you had the chance. He wasn't the closest of your friends, but you're sure it would have been more comfortable with him rather than third-wheeling your roommates.

Now, you don't hate Mingyu and your best friend, you just think they are disgustingly cute. You feel very happy since you've seen them pining after each other for a while now (all the furtive glances they sent to each other when they thought nobody was looking was like being inside a rom-com movie and it was hilarious at first. It eventually became too much to handle). You've never seen two more oblivious people inside a room, it was exasperating. Things began to turn serious when they discovered they were each other's soulmates and they've been seriously dating ever since.

It's great, really, but why do you have to see each of their displays of affection? Or, should we say, why doesn't the time to find your soulmate finally get to you?

Because you know, deep down inside you, that the problem is not that they have a soulmate. The problem is that you don't find it.

"Good morning, love." Mingyu greets your friend with his deep morning voice, and gives them a kiss on their temple. "Good morning, Y/n." He gives you a tiny hug and you growl.

"It's too early for being cute don't you think?" You ask joking-not-so-joking.

"Feeling grumpy at eight in the morning? Woah, breaking your own record." You laugh at what your friend says and they laugh too. You don't mind being like this, just why does it have to get so awkward sometimes?

"Guys another disgrace has happened." You announce solemnly. "I have lost my jacket"

"Again?" Mingyu judges.

"But didn't you wash it yesterday? It must be hanged with the rest of the clothes."

"I checked when I woke up because it's cold and it wasn't there."

"It was pretty windy last night, maybe it fell?" Your friend suggests and they grin. "Maybe Minghao will bring it back to you later?"

Ah, here we have the other reason why you want to move to a lost town somewhere in Australia: Xu Minghao, your first-floor neighbor, the one that has an apartment to envy because of his small, well-decorated courtyard. You don't envy that, though, because your clothesline is right on top of his courtyard, and sometimes he has to bring you all the clothing items that fall into his yard. You don't know how all that ends up there, you've tried everything: from securing your clothes with more pins to tying it to the clothesline. But none of that ever works, and he always goes all up to the third floor -where you live- to give it back to you with a smile and a 'see you soon'. How does he know it's your clothes? You made sure to tell him the first time this happened.

Just like your friend predicted, that afternoon Xu Minghao knocked at your door.

"Hello." He greets with a friendly smile and your heart melts.

He's too adorable to handle.

"Hi, Minghao. Don't bother I think I know why you're here." You joke at your own clumsiness and he laughs with you too.

"You must have been cold without it." He seems worried and you shake your head.

"Don't worry, two layers of blankets made up for it."

He puts his hands into his pockets and smiles shyly and you feel your heart bursting off. When he leaves, you notice your jacket smells like him.

Ah, how you wished Minghao was your soulmate.

Things get more complicated when the finals approach. You can barely stand even after drinking your daily coffee and you spend day after day coming and going from home to the library. You are so focused and stressed that you barely pay attention to anything else, and you've lost from pens to your entire case. All of them safely brought back home by Minghao. You do not know how or when you threw your case through the window for it to end up at Minghao's yard, but he always brings some hot chocolate and a small talk with him, so you do not complain.

After all, you don't even remember how you wake up every morning by the end of the day. You end up thinking you need to control yourself a little more during finals.

One day it gets out of hand. You've probably had the worst of the days. You woke up late because you didn't hear the alarm clock, your roommates being all lovey-dovey already got you on your nerves, your exam was harder than you expected and you had a bad feeling about your answers. Then, when you finally got home, late and tired, your keys were nowhere to be found. You could feel your eyes getting watery and you knocked at the door. Nobody answers, your friend and Mingyu are celebrating their anniversary and you don't want to bother them even if all you want is a hot shower and watching a romantic without friends to cuddle. You immediately think of Minghao, would it be too much if you asked him to spend some time with you? You answer to yourself that yes, it would be too much, there's no need to bother anyone else. So what do you do now?

"Y/n?" Somebody asks behind you.

"Minghao?" And there you have it, just the one you were thinking of.

"Hi, uhm, are you okay?" You want to cry to that question, but you manage to hold back your tears.

"I'm fine I just- I must have lost my keys because I can't find them and there's no one home and I just want to sleep." You explain briefly.

"Are these your keys?" He holds something in his left hand that looks like your keyring -a framed pink paper with your name on it and a little olaf your sister once bought you-

"How did you find it?"

"I didn't, it appeared in my yard". He is as confused as you are.

"But... I remember I put it inside the pocket of my bag." You explain. "When I arrived it was opened so I just supposed they fell out. And there's no way they fell into your yard because they are always inside my bag, I never threw them... Why would anyone throw a keyring through my window? I-" You try to explain without taking a breath so that Minghao doesn't think you're a weirdo, but now you can't fight back your tears and Minghao looks worried.

"It's okay Y/n, don't worry, I understand. Well, I don't, but I know you didn't do it. Hold on let's get inside I'll make you some hot chocolate and we can watch a movie, okay?"

You nod without thinking, just wanting to be lulled into some peace. He makes you some hot choco as promised and makes some small talk while choosing a movie to watch.

"So where are your roommates?" He asks.

"Celebrating their anniversary."

"Wait, are they dating?"

"Didn't you know?"

"No? I'm so shocked what the hell." You laugh at his astonished face. "But are they...?"

"Soulmates? Yes, they are."

"Woah, lucky."

"I know right." You don't want this topic to surface but you can't help but ask. "Have you met your soulmate?"

"I haven't." After a few seconds, he adds, "have you?"

"No, not a single clue of who they are. I don't have a timer or a tattoo, or see them in my dreams... I'm getting tired of waiting. Overall watching the two lovebirds every day of my life."

"It is the same thing for me. I'd love to meet them or just to know how they are. I know I'm young and all that but I'm just very curious and almost all my friends have met them while I still don’t know how to find them. I feel left out."

You nod, relating to that feeling.

"By the way, if it gets tiring, why don't you just move out?"

"I don't know where to move to be honest. I don't know if I want to go through the 'look for a new apartment' process again, it's too tiring. Besides, I still have fun with them, they're not to blame for my loneliness."

Minghao laughs and looks away.

"Just so you know, I'm moving out next month. I found another apartment for a better price and I'm going to leave the one I have now. If it gets too unbearable, you can just take my place." And you are too focused on yourself to notice the sad look on his face.

Because Minghao and your little encounters made your whole living in a student's apartment life better, and you don't want him to go away. But you are just a neighbor in Minghao's life, so who are you to tell him that?

Minghao moves the following month just as promised, and you can't remove the moping face you wear.

"Why are you so sad Y/n? I've seen the new neighbor, he is as hot as Minghao." Your friend winks and you roll your eyes.

"I don't care. If he doesn't pick up my stuff then I don't want him."

"I've heard he is all the time arguing with their other roommate. Maybe they leave sooner than expected and Minghao comes back!"

"Don't be mean, Gyu!" You nag and he shrugs.

Somebody's knocking at the door distracts you from your conversation and both of your friends turn to look at you.

"Why do I always have to get the door? There's no Minghao now, I don't want it."

"Maybe is your new blue prince"

"Shut up, Mingyu."

But when you open the door to a frowning Minghao, your heart backflips.

"What are you doing here Hao? Is everything okay?"

"I am a little concerned." He shows you a small necklace you recognize immediately. "What was this doing in my house?"

"I lost it last week at university! I didn't know where it went." You try to answer.

"To my room?"

"Look, I also don't know what was my necklace doing in your house in which I've never stepped a foot in because is like five kilometers away ... Oh my god Hao did you walk here?"

"I took the bus." He looks down and then right at you. "The last time I saw you you were wearing it. I've been thinking for a week how did this get there since I haven't seen you in a month, I never took it and I know for sure you are not a stalker who would leave their necklace inside my room when nobody’s looking."

"Have you reached any conclusion?"

"Absolutely none. Then I talked to Jun and he said some of the romantic trash he usually thinks of, but this made me think."

"What did he say?" You don't know what direction this conversation is taking.

"He's a soulmate expert you know? He told me that maybe it’s because destiny wants us to meet again and I thought that couldn't be because oh god, what have I done to deserve you? Then I decided to make a little experiment and I'm really nervous because if this doesn't work out I might have lost the most important thing to me. Do you mind checking your room?"

You feel everything inside you revolving because of every single one of his words, but still, you do as he requests. You check your room, ignoring the question marks over your roommate's heads, and find nothing different. Except for a new notebook on top of your nightstand you hadn't noticed. It's a sketchbook, and all of the drawings on the inside are signed with Minghao's name.

"Is this yours?" He sighs in relief when he recognizes the sketchbook.

"This is a part of my life, you know?"

"Then how did you lose this?"

"I told June to leave it somewhere I didn't know so that I couldn't even look for it. I wasn't sure if it was going to work."

"I can't believe the universe does works like this."

"Me neither, but I'm glad it did."

"So, you said this friend of yours is an expert in soulmates?" You don't want to ask it directly, but you want to know if he's implying that you two are soulmates.

"Yes, I used the s word." You both laugh.

"Does this mean that you and I... You know."

"Jun told me this type of soulmate is rare, but it has happened under easier circumstances. All I know is that I keep finding you every time and I don't know if I ever want to stop finding you."

"OH COME ON JUST KISS ALREADY." You hear Mingyu shouting from the kitchen. "Babe, now I know how Y/n felt with us."

You want to laugh at Mingyu and tell him 'Ha, suffer you loser', but Minghao has other plans.

When he kisses you everything just seems simple and suddenly everything is fine, and you don't want to stop doing it. It's warm, it feels as if you had lost and found the most important thing in your life.

"Hold on then why did I never find anything yours?"

"Y/n, you break the kiss just to ask this?" You blush and he sighs. "I'm a very organized person, unlike others, so I barely lose things, happy now?"

"No. Does this mean that if I get lost in a crowd would you magically find me? You know, since I got lost."

"I don't know Y/n, and I don't want to find out. Now come here, I want to cuddle."

"Oh, yes. Finally."

[light679]

Leon’s bedroom

So, I’ve done an analysis of Leon’s outfits, so now it’s time to hyper-fixate over his room. Especially with some of the more negative posts and thoughts going around, let's put the foolishness behind us and focus on some positive things about our lovely champ.

There is red everywhere. Different shades and colors, but red is a clear theme. Boy has a favorite color, it’s red. He looks good in red, end of story. Jk. I think it’s fitting for this to be his favorite color, between his passionate personality and his ace Pokemon being a fire type, it makes sense.

Books. Books everywhere. The books and magazines don’t appear to be champion-related. They all seem to be nonfiction and a lot of them are unpacked, meaning Leon brings or sends home books constantly. Which also probably goes to show that Leon has every intention of reading and going home more, but ends up being too busy with his responsibilities to actually ever get to read the things he buys and sends home. Leon is clearly smart, and has read some challenging books.

The workout equipment. Even though he almost never goes home, he still has it there, and it’s one of the few things in his room that isn’t neatly put away, suggesting he uses it when he goes home. Otherwise, it's a good possibility someone would have packed it up. Also, the fact that when you look at the workout equipment it says that it looks like a Pokemon could use it too has me stuck with a mental image of Leon trying to pump up Charizard with cheers as Charizard attempts to benchpress.

Which brings me to the dumbells that can be seen on his desk. The pens on his desk make it seem like this is where he reads and maybe writes some things. Yet on the other side of his desk, there’s some little dumbells. Leon clearly has a lot of energy, but maybe even suggests that Leon constantly has to be moving/fidding with something, even if he is reading. Which feeds into the adhd/anxiety theory. Or in general, just him having a lot of energy that he constantly feels the need to expend.

In his room, there is only one picture of himself throwing a Pokeball- NO champion materials here. All of the Champion regalia is in his living room/clearly put out in places the rest of his family is. (I have a lot of thoughts on the Leon-shrine in the living room, but that's not the purpose of this post). Leon doesn't keep this stuff on display in his own room. Which adds support to the fact that Leon is clearly more than just the Undefeated Champion. I believe that Leon puts on the "Undefeated Champion" act when he's around people, especially Hop, who looks up to him constantly, but lets that act down and lets people see more of the 'real Leon' underneath it all. The one who's clearly a huge sweet and dorky nerd who just likes to better himself constantly, whether it be mentally or physically.

THE CAPS He hasn’t really been home much since he became Champion. There are SO many caps. he’s clearly been collecting snapbacks for awhile. Which makes it even more sweet that he continues to keep his snapback with him during his new phase of life as Battle Tower owner and Chairman. no matter how he changes as a person, it kinda signifies he’s still holding true to himself and the things he loves- which when it comes down to it, is battling/Pokemon and snapbacks. 

There are a few duplicate caps, which suggests he either has some caps he really likes enough to get multiples of, OR (most-likely), there are some very small differences that Leon hyper-fixates on/notices that most people wouldn’t.

-’N’s’ cap on top of the bookshelf. I've seen a few fan theories about the cap that sits on the top of the bookshelf which looks like N's. I think it'd be interesting for the two of them to meet. Both have an overall goal of making Pokemon the best they can be. N had his goals of liberating them from trainers and Leon has the goals of making trainers and Pokemon have the best battles by constantly working on themselves and their bonds with their Pokemon. A meeting of these two would be incredibly interesting I feel, especially pre-events of Black/White.

There are some caps on plaques in various spots around his room. I definitely have to wonder why these caps are on plaques specifically, or what they mean. (If anyone has insight into this, pleaaase tell me, I'm fascinated).

His room is also really tidy. While his grandma also talks about keeping his room tidy for him, Hop’s room is also a complete mess. Also, a few of the dumbells and workout equipment pieces are still out and some are on the floor, so if she was doing 100% of the legwork on cleaning, those materials would probably be put away. So Leon, to some extent, is most likely at least pretty tidy. Either that, or he visits often enough that the dumbells don't really need to be put away.

-Can we talk about the Charmander he leaves for you? In HIS ROOM? Why you expecting me to come in your room Leon? 👀 Jk. I do think it’s a very sweet and symbolic way for him to give you the Charmander. He got his start with his own Charmander in Postwick and now he’s passing that legacy onto you, the new Champion. Just as I’m sure former champions have passed something on to him in some way or another. Just another way to show his support for you even after yourand his big battle are over.

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Hey there! Could I please get a fred Weasley x reader where the reader is a Slytherin, but befriends everyone all the same, maybe with the trope of her being best friends w the twins and everyone trying to set her and Fred up bc there's so much tension? But they're terribly oblivious? I absolutely love this trope lmaoo. Thank you and have a wonderful day!✨❤️

This is cute-- How in the world do you guys come up with this adorable stuff omfg.

Warnings: Abuse, swearing, panic attacks, slight NSFW conversations, set in a non voldy world.

You were a strange one. A Slytherin with a Hufflepuff personality. Honestly anyone that knew you questioned if for once the sorting hat was wrong for the first time. You had friends EVERYWHERE. Fred and George had heard of you, people saying even Filch could find you enjoyable to be around. Once they heard that, oh boy, they had to meet you. Fred and George finally did by the lake one day. Fred was talking to George, noticing a few cracks from limbs in the tree they were standing under here and there. Finally they had an answer as to what was making it do that when they heard “OH SHIT” followed by “INCOMING!” followed by you falling right into Fred’s arms. “My bad, I was trying to get a bird back in its nest.” You apologized, hopping down the the ground. Fred blinked a couple of times, looking at the tree and then you. “Uh... twig.” George said, pointing to his head to indicate you had a twig in your hair. “Hmm? Oh! thank you!” You realized. “Did... You just fall out of a tree?” Fred asked. “You’d be surprised on how much that happens. Oh are you those twins I’ve been hearing about?” You asked. “Probably. I’m Fred--” “That’s George, yep I know.” You nodded. “...Who are you?” George asked. “Oh-- I’m Y/n!” You said. “Ohhhhh. See this is beginning to make sense now.” George nodded. Fred was just... Staring at you. It wasn’t a perplexed face of “What the fuck just happened”. It was more: “This girl is.. Pretty?” 

The twins started having more interactions with you. But there was the day you three became friends that neither of the boys will forget. Fred and George were sitting in the library. Reading? No. Napping? Yes. Well, until you slid into a seat. “Y/n?” Fred yawned. “Act. natural.” You said with this wild eyed look making George raise a brow. Then Draco ran in... With green hair. Fred was now awake and you were hiding your face in a book. “Have you seen Y/n!?” Draco growled. “No... But I see you decided to wear your Slytherin pride today.” George snorted. “You.” Draco growled. Then he noticed you laughing. He pulled down the book. “YOU!” He shouted. “Shit!” You gasped before Fred slid a chair in front of Draco, George bolting with you. You all hid in the one place Draco would never be caught dead in. The Gryffindor common room. You collapsed out of breath on the couch laughing with the boys. “What in the world made you do that?” George wheezed. “He decided to be a dick to my friend this morning. I got revenge. Tomorrow I’m thinking blue. He’s been giving Ravenclaw trouble lately.” You laughed making Fred snort. “Your idea is amazing, might I suggest we rig an exploding ink pen?” George said. “With silver ink, because red just seems to clash with that boy’s eyes.” You said making the boys laugh harder. “Oh I think we’re going to enjoy having you around, won’t we Freddie boy?” George asked. “Indeed Georgie. Indeed.” Fred chuckled.

So the mischievous three were introduced to the world. You had this policy though: Only prank the assholes. So that automatically meant a lot of kids from Slytherin. With each prank you got closer to the boys. Specifically Fred. Something about him just drew you in, like a moth to a flame. George wasn’t stupid either, he could see the looks you two would give each other. When you all entered your fourth year, you had started helping out with their little underground business. You spent the first two weeks of summer that year at home but actually ended up staying with the Weasleys’. You seemed... A little off though. Fred and George both noticed you begin to space out at times, giving off almost this sad look. Whenever they’d talk to you though, you looked at them like you normally would. Something was wrong. They could feel it. It wasn’t until they met your father at the station they realized what was going on. He seemed to snap at you a lot, making you go completely silent. To anyone that didn’t know you this was a normal response. To the boys though, you always had something to say. If you were quiet, this was because you were afraid. Not disciplined. You sat on the train in complete silence. Neither of the boys were sure if they should ask you about your dad. You focused on the rain drops on the window. “I’ve always liked the rain. What about you guys?” You finally asked. “Makes me tired as shit.” George said making you crack a smile. “Heard one of Harry’s uncles is teaching this year.” Fred said. “I think I remembered him mentioning that. The Remus guy?” You asked. “He’s standing in while Quirrell is away.” George nodded. “As long as it isn’t like last year’s substitute.” You groaned. “Fucking Gilderoy.” All of you said in unison making each other laugh. “I swear a simple breeze makes Quirrell catch something.” George sighed. “He does end up getting sick a lot. Remember when he got chicken pox?” You asked. “You would’ve thought the bastard was dying.” Fred nodded. ”He has the immune system of an infant, I swear.” you laughed. 

You all sat around in the Great Hall, you catching a glimpse of who the new substitute professor was. He had a scar on his face and it reminded you of something. You just couldn’t figure out what. Eventually though, you came to like the way Remus taught. He had a sense of humor. Not that Quirrell didn’t it was just very awkward when he did finally crack a damn joke. Remus rose a brow when he saw your first and last name on the roll call. “Miss Y/n, is your mother perhaps Persephone L/n?” Remus asked. Fred rose a brow. “She was sir.” you said, making George look up. “Was?” Remus asked. “She passed on when I was eight sir. Why, did you know her?” you asked, earning a couple of students to glance at your response. “I did. Very kind woman. Who did she marry?” Remus asked. “Cassian Lestrange sir.” You responded, making everyone now halt. “...I see.” Remus nodded. “Something wrong?” You asked. “No offense.. I truly mean none. But I genuinely cannot see Cassian as a father.” Remus admitted. You nodded looking down. “He’s... An interesting man.” You muttered, your look distant and pained. Remus noticed, but changed the subject. Fred looked back at his desk. He had no idea about any of this, much less a distant relation to Draco. Judging by your reaction to the questions though, Fred decided it was best to leave it be. You enjoyed Remus’ class, him noticing a few similarities to your mother as you interacted with other students. You always had a smile on your face when you spoke to others. But the one thing he always noticed was the looks that you and Fred would share. George usually paired up with a girl but Fred ALWAYS paired up with you. You two worked well together. It almost reminded him of two other people he knew... Today though, wasn’t the best of days. It was time to practice Boggarts. You already knew what yours was, but you weren’t ready to exactly displayed to the class. You however walked forward and did it anyways, holding your breath as the Boggart began to shift. Finally it did.

Into your father. You opened your mouth to say a spell but nothing came out, your hands shaking as it inched forward. Fred looked at you and then the boggart, quickly pulling you back with one arm and shouting “riddikulus”. You couldn’t still your breathing and it only seemed to be getting worse. “Y/n? Look at me.” Fred said, ignoring the students watching you. Remus locked the closet and you hyperventilated. “Class dismissed.” Remus said, shuffling the other students out. “I-I can’t-- b-breathe.” you whimpered. George ran over and you gripped your head. “Y/n. I’m right here Love, follow my breathing.” Fred said softly. You followed his movements. “What’s your favorite book?” George asked making Remus raise a brow. “S-sense and Sensibility.” You answered, still regulating your breathing. “Personally I’m more of a short story man, what about you Freddie?” George asked. “Not big on reading. More of a napping fellow.” Fred answered. You let out a small laugh and straightened your posture. “What’s your favorite class?” Fred asked. “P-probably this one.. with the exception of t-today.” you answered. Remus reached into his drawer and handed you chocolate and a bottled water. “Thank you professor.” You muttered. You sat down and sighed. “Y/n... I hate to ask this, truly I do. But is there anything going on at home?” Remus asked. You didn’t say anything. “I... Don’t want to answer that question.” You finally said. Fred frowned and George exchanged a look. “Boys, do you mind leaving us for a few moments?” Remus asked. Fred kneeled to you, looking at your face. “I’ll be outside if you need me. Okay?” He asked. You nodded and he got up, leaving with George.

The door closed and Fred let out a long sigh. “I am going to kill her father, want to help?” Fred said. “Hand me a shovel.” George said simply. “Why didn’t she say anything?” Fred asked. “She doesn’t even want to talk to Lupin Fred. You saw her face, she most likely didn’t want to remember.” George said. Fred looked at the door and sighed. “We can’t let her go home George. Not this summer.” Fred said. “I’m with you.” George agreed. The two boys became a bit more protective over you. But they found it so strange that you still kept the happy go lucky personality despite going through all of this. Then Fred found you one night in the astronomy tower with a blanket. You were propped up against one of the stone arch’s and looking at the night sky. “Y/n?” Fred asked. You looked over at him. “Hey Fred.” You said with that smile. He sat across from you. “What brings you up here?” Fred asked. “Insomnia. And cookies.” You said. “Cookies?” Fred asked. You scooched closer to him, pushing a tin of cookies to him. He took one and you sighed looking at the stars. “Can I ask you something?” He said. “Sure.” You nodded. “What keeps that smile on your face all the time?” He asked. You let out a long breath, thinking over a detailed answer. “Lots of reasons. I have two kickass best friends that will fight for me no matter what, I have really cool teachers, I have friends who are like family.” you answered. “But... I keep that smile because some times someone just needs to see the good in the world. I won’t lie to you. My life is much darker than I think you accounted for. But if my smile provides someone else some light then damn it I’ll keep this up.” You said. Fred looked at you surprised. “Y/n...” He muttered. You looked at Fred and he said nothing, pulling you into his arms. You slowly hugged him back and he sighed. “I swear if anyone tries anything with you again, I will personally send them to their grave.” Fred said making you laugh. “I’m serious!” Fred said, not being able to keep a straight face seeing your smile. “Shut up and take a cookie.” You laughed. 

You two were found passed out the next morning my Luna. You were in Fred’s arms and he was holding you close. You two never brought it up, despite the fact that both of you were blushing like crazy when you woke up. It was now CRYSTAL fucking clear how Fred felt about you to George after witnessing a snowball fight between you two that resulted in Fred tickling your sides and making you laugh during a Hogsmeade trip. You smiled in his arms, faces inches apart. If Fred and George’s jackass brother hadn’t gotten into a fight with Draco, George was 95% sure you two would’ve kissed. 

You seemed distracted by something else though, and that was your professor. The scar on his face- why did it look familiar? And why was Remus going to Snape for a secret potion? You noticed that he was pretty secretive about his personal life and Harry never answered the question of where the mark came from. You took what you like to call “The Granger Approach.” Which was basically reading until you had a reliable answer. Fred sat with you the entire time, napping or talking to George while you read. Both boys were passed out by the time you found an answer. “Oh... Shit.” you realized, making Fred open an eye. “Find what you’re looking for?” George yawned. “...Yeah and I think Remus is going to be absent tomorrow.” You said looking at the full moon through the large glass windows. “Why’s that?” Fred asked. “He’s a werewolf.” You said in a whisper. Both boys looked at you with a “You can’t be serious” expression. “What makes you say that?” Fred asked. “Ron said something. Harry’s class saw his boggart. It was the moon.” You said. George blinked. “If our little brother is your proof that’s not exactly reliable.” George said. “How do you explain the potions he gets from Snape, or the scar on his face, or the fact that he was leaving campus this afternoon?” You asked. “He was?” Fred asked. “He was sneaking around but I noticed him.” You shrugged. “Alright. Say he doesn’t show up tomorrow. Who fills in for a substitute?” George asked. “Probably Snape.” you grumbled. “You’re a Slytherin and you don’t like Snape? My God you really are a strange one.” Fred teased making you smile. George rolled his eyes. “Do we ask him about this?” George asked. “No. We leave this alone unless Remus needs help.” you said. “How in the hell were you not sorted into Hufflepuff? Like honestly?” Fred asked. “I have no idea. Luna says its never wrong though.” You shrugged. 

Sure enough, Remus didn’t show up and Snape took over class that day. Fred, George and you all exchanged knowing glances but overall didn’t say anything. The school year finally came to a close and you were honestly sad to see Remus go. The crazy thing was: That day when you explained your boggart to Remus, he told you that his door was open to you if you needed to leave home. You declined but Fred was hellbent on you staying with them for the summer. He hated the idea of you being potentially in harm’s way. This offer you accepted. You showed up, bags in hand with that same beautiful smile. Molly was of course excited to see you and you were happy to be there. The Burrow honestly felt like home. You and Fred had so many moments though that made the whole family go “Dude. Kiss already. PLEASE.” Specifically when you saw a spider and screamed, practically climbing up Fred while he killed the damn thing. “You managed to go into the forbidden forest alone and came back unscathed but a small spider scares you?” Fred asked, your legs having a death grip around his torso. “THEY ARE FUCKING CREEPY FRED!” You whined. “It’s smaller than you!” He laughed, holding you up. “SO IS A GRENADE!” you whined. You hopped down and eyed the dead spider. “Afraid it’ll crawl--” “FRED IT HAD BABIES!” You screamed, climbing right back up him, more directed to his face. “Oh for Christ’s sake--” He said, enchanting a broom to sweep them out. “You’re a Slytherin. All of  you have creepy creatures for pets and you are terrified of..” “Fred faced you as you were linked to his side, inches away from him. You looked in his eyes, almost as if you were looking for something, swallowing hard. “What the hell happened here?” Ron asked, seeing the two of you. “I saw a spider.” “OH GOD WHERE--”

George was tired of this tension. Yes, it was cute to see his brother head over heels. But my GOD WERE YOU FUCKING DENSE. BOTH OF YOU. How could you two have so many OBVIOUS moments that would make people who barely knew you go “Oh so they like each other” But you two still be clueless to the other’s intentions. You two also talked endlessly to George and Ginny. Both of them would sit there listening wanting to say something, but kept their oaths of silence. This year things were bound to change though. You see: this year was a Triwizard tournament. Other schools were coming to this shindig. And a boy from Durmstrang seemed awfully fixated on you. You were friendly, inviting him to sit and Fred would just be internally screaming the whole time watching you. The Durmstrang boy would do things that literally made Fred’s eye fucking twitch: playing with your hair, complimenting your smile, constantly looking at you. You were oblivious to this being flirty though, unaware of the boy’s crush on you. Finally one day Fred had to talk to you about it. He could not stand watching this little fucker with you. “You should talk to her Fred. Tell her how you feel.” George said. “And if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Fred asked. George practically slammed his head down onto the table in frustration, releasing a long groan. “JUST. ASK. HER.” George whined, making Fred jump. “Good God man, what’s gotten into you!?” Fred asked. “NOTHING FRED. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.” George groaned, getting up and making Ginny nearly die of silent laughter. 

You were in the library, grabbing a few books for a herbology project when Fred popped up, scaring the shit out of you. “Christ! Say something when you’re behind me!” You breathed. “Sorry! Sorry.” Fred apologized. “What do you need?” You asked curiously. “What’s going on with you and that Durmstrang kid?” Fred asked. “What do you mean?” you asked, moving down the aisle, looking for a specific book. “Do you like him?” Fred asked. “He’s cool.” You shrugged. “Not like that Y/n.” Fred huffed. “Like what?” You asked. “Romantically. Do you like him romantically?” Fred asked. “Wha-- no!” You gagged. Fred felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Why did you want to know?” You asked. “It’s just... He acts like he likes you. That’s all.” Fred said. You stopped and turned around, a questioning squint on your face. “Would it have bothered you if I did?” You asked. “Yes.” Fred answered, no hesitation in his words. “Why?” you asked. Fuck. Fred did not think this through. “It just would’ve.” Fred said. “Again, why would this have bothered you?” You asked. “No particular reason!” He lied. “Answer the god damn question before I ask out Luka out of spite!” You snapped. “You do that and I ask Angela out!” He said back. You glared. “Oh that bothers you!?” Fred noticed the expression. “Yes it bothers me!” You said. “Why!?” Fred asked. “I asked you first, you dolt!” You said. Both of you were quickly becoming aggravated, glaring at each other. Fred couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his lips onto yours, resulting in you dropping the book in your hands and cupping his cheeks. You two eventually pulled away for this stupid thing called air and you let out a small laugh. “Well shit Fred, if you would’ve just started with that I wouldn’t have had to ask.” You laughed. He smiled, his hands around your waist. “You’re lucky we’re in public or else I would’ve done a lot more than that Princess.” Fred said in your ear. You looked at him with a smirk “If I knew making you jealous would make you act like this, my God I would’ve made friends with this kid ages ago.” You laughed. “Oh bite your tongue.” He chuckled. “Hmm, I’m thinking I leave that to you.” you teased. He shook his head, kissing you again. 

George caught you two and he actually screamed “HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH” at the top of his lungs, making both of you jump. You three ended up in detention (you and Fred were in trouble for the book mess), George telling you two how the past few months were absolute hell. “I have been watching you two jackasses, trying to get you to DATE since LAST JANUARY. IT’S OCTOBER.” George complained. “It wasn’t that bad!” You laughed. “Not that bad-- NOT THAT BAD!? FRED TALKS MY GOD DAMN EAR OFF ABOUT YOU AT NIGHT-- I DON’T SLEEP” George whined. “Has he now?” You asked, smirking at Fred who was smiling. “You’re always on the bastard’s mind! And I have to listen to Ginny complain to me with the same issue-- ‘Y/n was talking about Fred again to Hermione. Something about if given the chance she’d definitely shag him’.” George quoted making you choke on air and cough as Fred looked at you with an amused smirk.  “Would you now?” Fred asked. You rolled your eyes “What was it you said to me a few hours ago-- ‘You’re lucky we’re in public or else--’” “I remember what I said Darling, I just wanted to know where your mind was.” Fred teased. “Oh you know exactly what I’m thinking you little shit.” You griped making him snort. “Oh God Mcgonagall better come back soon, I’m locked in a room with two randy jackasses.” George prayed aloud. “Relax we’re not going to shag.” Fred said. “Thank god.” George sighed. “That’s not until three.” Fred yawned making you snort and George slammed his head on his desk. “DRINK HOLY WATER YOU UNGODLY SINNERS” 

[yurissweettooth]

Yay For 10 Years!🎉🎉

*Psst, click the image for higher quality!*

I have zero shame in saying that this show (and all related media) has changed my whole life in so many ways! I’m also not shy about the fact that my heart belongs to Yuri (I think he's so cool!) so of course he was the obvious choice for who do draw and write a short, light hearted fic about (which you can read below the cut!)💚💙

I hope everyone has had a lot of fun on this day!

“Let’s see here… Kotetsu Kaburagi damage report… Kotetsu Kaburagi damage report… Kotetsu Kaburagi... damage report…” Yuri exhaled, massaging the bridge of his nose in exasperation as he leafed through a mountain of crinkled, coffee stained documents. It was of little to no surprise that the pile of paperwork that had been left on his desk while he was away on his lunch break could mostly be attributed to the more reckless half of Sternbild’s prized crime fighting duo. With  a sigh Yuri lifted the receiver of his phone, intending to politely  remind Tiger once again not to use his paperwork as a coaster. However,  before he could dial the number it had begun to ring.

“Justice department, Yuri Petrov speaking.” he answered, suppressing his annoyance and replacing it with his usual polite tone.

“Good afternoon Mr. Petrov, it’s Agnes. As you might be aware, today is the ten year anniversary of the Justice Tower’s remodeling.” She explained.

“Remodeling?”

“Yes. Ten years ago today all of the walls were repainted and appliances replaced to give it a more modern look to reflect a new era of Heroes.” She stated, as if that really explained anything at all.

“That is quite lovely to hear Ms. Joubert. The paint is, uh, a very nice color.” he stated politely, not even sparing a glance at the boring grey walls that surrounded him.

“Look, you don’t have to flatter me, I couldn’t care less about the paint color either. The sponsors are complaining that the returns on their investments are decreasing so we need to drum up some interest and we need to do it fast. Anything can be a reason to celebrate if you look at it right way, right? I mean, do you have any better ideas?”

“Ms. Joubert, I’m merely a judge… I apologize, but I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“Yes, precisely! You’re a judge, bringer of justice, upholder of the law!” she passionately proclaimed “Apollon media stands for justice, as such it’s only natural that we feature a man of true justice like yourself..”

Yuri elicits a sound of smug approval and leans back in his chair “Well, I suppose when you word it in that way I may be able to see your point.”

“Fantastic! So, of course our main heroes are our star attraction, our second league heroes are a nice side dish, but you’re probably somewhere right below that when it comes to your importance in delivering justice. ”

“Oh… is that so?” Yuri asked as his briefly amused tone fell flat at her backhanded remark. Was she trying to insult him?

“Precisely.” she said as though she believed she had just bestowed upon him the complement of the century. “I was thinking, in a way you’re kind of like a minor hero yourself so maybe we could spin it as something like a ‘Meet Sternbild’s Hidden Heroes!’ segment. Of course we’ll save all the big questions for our real heroes but maybe at some point we could get your perspective on what you think of the decor of the tower and what it’s like to be a judge.”

As he began to feel the backs of his eyes grow warm he made the quick decision to end the call there before he lost his composure. “Agnes, you always have incredible ideas and I wish you all the best with pursuing that. Thank you for the information, I'll think it over. I’ll be returning to my paperwork now but please don’t hesitate to contact me again when you are in need of further assistance.”

“Oh, you're doing paperwork? In that case, this is actually a great opportunity. Stay put and act natural, I’ll be there in just a minute with the supplies and the film crew.” Agnes made a point of hanging up quickly before he even got the chance to protest.

Just as she’d promised, Agnes and her posse were barging into his office and shoving cameras in his face before he’d even been able to sign off on the first document. She wasted no time in bounding right up to his desk, turning towards the camera.

“Would you look at that, Sternbild’s very own Judge Yuri Petrov, hard at work as usual!” She gracefully spun around and held the microphone out to him “So tell us Yuri, what are you working on currently?”

He pursed his lips, just barely masking his disapproval. He had never been one for interviews, especially not while presenting simply as Judge Petrov, so he figured it best just to blurt out a few simple answers and get it over with quickly. “Well you see, Wild Tiger has again destroyed more property in one week than a group of delinquents could in their entire lifetime." He motioned to the papers in front of him "As you can see, I have a lot of damage reports that I need to-.”

It was rather frightening how suddenly Agnes was able to snap out of her charming, professional mode. “Hey! Take your job seriously!” she shouted, slamming her hands against his desk. “You’re supposed to say ‘Heh heh, I’m sure you would love to know but that’s confidential.’ and wink at the camera or something like that.”

“You’re right, my apologies." Yuri said. He tucked a lock of his hair behind his ears, shuffled his papers, and started again. Sorry, I can’t tell you what I’m working on as doing so would violate the code outlined in article 371 B of the Sternbild judic-”

“Ugh, forget it, moving on. Ahem, soooo Mr. Petrov, why don’t you tell us a little bit about what led you to become a judge and why serving justice is so important to you.”

“Ah, well that one is simple.” he said, putting on the vaguest semblance of a friendly smile “I believe that justice is important.”

Agnes nodded her head, the microphone still pointed at him for a moment longer. That is, until the moment passed without him saying anything else. “I-is that all?”

“I’m not sure what else can really be said on the topic.” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Jeez, who hired this guy…” she muttered. “Well, can you at least tell me what you think of the new penholders?”

“Aren’t these from ten years ago?”

“Well they’re newer to you because you only started working here just within the past two years.”

“Mm, I see… but couldn’t the same have been said for the pen holders that were here before the renovation if they were still here now? Does being new to me really make them new?”

Agnes lowered the microphone and gave him a look that would make even Lunatic tremble in fear. “Alright, I had hoped we could avoid it but you’ve left me no choice but to resort to plan B.”

The words “plan B” didn’t leave the most pleasant feeling in Yuri’s gut and, for a moment, he almost considered interjecting and asking to restart the interview. However, Agnes already had her mind made up and was knocking his paperwork and carefully arranged pens aside to make room for a large box displaying the company logo. She rifled through the contents, producing a large cupcake bearing red and green candles in the shape of the number ten among other various party related items.

“Bring it in.” Agnes motioned her crew closer to get a better shot as she rounded the corner of his desk and placed a large, blue and green party hat on his head, pressing it down to try and make it sit smoothly atop his curly hair. “You like these colors, right?” she asked, as if the colors were what might be wrong with this.

“Well, yes but…” he started, but she silenced him with a simple wave of her hand.

“Alright, great. Here, put this in your mouth.” she said, shoving a party blowout, rather reminiscent of Sky High's suit, towards his lips “Try not to get any lipstick on it, we need to reuse this for next year.”

“May I ask why you are making me do this?” Yuri asked, his resolve wavering.

“I’ve decided we’re doing a magazine interview instead. I’ll write out all of your answers for you, we just need a few photos of you to accompany them. Now, pretend like you’re having fun!” she reached back into the box, grabbed a handful of confetti, and sprinkled the colored paper over his head. “Cain, go go go!” she instructed, hoping not to have to waste all of their confetti on just one shoot.

Yuri complied, albeit begrudgingly, but only because it seemed to be the only way to put an end to this save for burning the place down. He gave her the smile she requested, posed with the cake, and shuffled his papers around a few more times to make it look like he had been working.

“Alright, that’s a wrap.” Agnes said at last “This should be enough to work with." She said as she began to pick what confetti she could from Yuri’s hair and place it back into the box.

“Ms. Joubert, I must ask, will something like this really be helpful to our image?” Yuri sighs.

Agnes closes up the box and sets it on the floor beside his desk.“Well, it will be interesting, that’s for sure.” she answered vaguely, “Thanks for your time, I think I can use what I got. I saw you eyeing it so you can keep the cake as compensation, just have the other stuff back to me by this evening.” She had already turned to leave before another thought popped into her head “Oh, and Yuri?”

Yuri, rather reluctantly, looked up with a questioning look. He prayed it wasn't another weird question or dumb photo idea.

“Maybe try to be a bit more cheerful sometimes, with an attitude like that people are going to start thinking you hate heroes or something. Plus, you actually look sort of pleasant when you’re smiling and having fun, even if you're just faking.” she shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll have a copy of the issue on your desk when it comes out.” she said, waving her crew after her and closing the door behind them.

Yuri, now alone in his trashed office, exhaled a sigh of relief at her departure. “I suppose the public wouldn’t be too pleased if they thought their judge hated heroes.” he remarks to himself as his glowing fingertips make contact with the candle wicks and set them alight. Once his hand had cooled he brushed it across the surface of his desk and collected the remaining confetti, repeating Agnes’s words from their phone call earlier about how anything can be a reason to celebrate. He took the stack of papers and shoved it into the bottom drawer of his desk. In a swift movement he sat back and tossed the confetti into the air above his head in celebration of ,what he just decided, was going to be a well deserved and much needed day off. As the scraps of paper rained down on him he recalled  her other words and smiled to himself.

[bbnibini]

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – forty-six🔖

[ Burn the letter ]

(Mammon's affection reached MAX. You cannot raise his parameters any further.)

{ OPEN STATUS : YES

> approved > displaying capture targets

Mammon: 100♡/100♡ Satan: 85♡/100♡ Barbatos: 0♡/100♡ Lucifer: 5♡/100♡

CLOSE STATUS : YES >approved }

The piece of paper that brought you together only caused him hurt. Its scented pages filled with words of love that made you fall for him was nothing but an illusion. Your love was blind to the sides of Mammon that didn't fit the letter he had penned, forcing yourself to believe any semblance of feelings you had for him were true. Is it really love if you closed your eyes to the truth and believed everything had been perfect? Do you really love someone if you could only accept their good sides?

Such thoughts crossed your mind then, simmering there until it reached its boiling point---a love governed by ideals and strived for perfection. If that really is the love that you feel for him

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Then screw your ridiculous standards! But it hadn't been the case at all! Anger bubbled up inside you and spilled the remnants of your long-spent self-control. You wondered how your "wonderful boyfriend" had made such ridiculous conclusions. How many I love yous would it get him to understand that you didn't give a crap about the letter at all? It was him and had always been him! If your feelings for him started with an unexpected letter in your locker, then so be it. But you were free to fall in love with the real him! You wanted to shake him by the shoulders and shout at him a loud, drawn out,

"DON'T PUT WORDS IN MY FUCKING MOUTH YOU STUPIDMAMMONNNNNN!!"

…and kiss him while XXXX XXX XXX so he would fucking get that tattooed in his stupidmammon brain!!!! When you angrily texted Asmo and Levi about your boyfriend's genius conclusions, their seemingly endless spams of the laughing Blacjak stickers were already telling.

Despite your friends' best attempts to comfort you, you were inconsolable. Incensed, you held the letter near the fire and muttered stupidMammon under your breath in rapid succession, seeing it burn into ashes.

You put your phone down and groaned. You knew deep down that it wasn't good to hold onto your anger, but where the hell will you project that volatile piece of angst when every bone in your body is screaming "I want Mammon" both in a murderous and romantic fashion? You were pretty sure he was sulking right now, and any word you'll tell him won't ever register until he's calmed himself down. Well, you needed to calm yourself too, especially after you noticed that your fingers were actually burning from the fire.

Ow, was your delayed reaction, gingerly turning off the gas lamp and collecting the letter's ashes.

Wait a minute. You just had an idea.

By the time Asmo and Levi came to your room offering "tribute", they were greeted by your familiar figure laughing maniacally while looking at a pile of ashes. Judging from their nonchalant reactions, they seemed to have been already used to it. A tub of ice cream was planted on your cheek as Levi's attempt to snap you back to your senses.

"What flavour?"

"Both of them."

"Spoon."

A spoonful of mint choco ice cream was shoved in your mouth by a blank-faced Levi. The sweet and cool sensation on your tongue made you moan in happiness. Delightful!

"The Old One has finally calmed down, huh. Asmo, it's your turn." (Levi)

"Yay~ makeover time!~"

An equally cool gel was rubbed on your face, relaxing the remaining tense muscles in your body. Asmo seemed to delight on pampering you, smearing more products on your skin until your cheeks and your upper arms and legs were soft and supple as a cherub's butt.

Your nightly meetings with Asmo and Levi usually had a topic of interest. It was a universal truth in your friendship circle however that any enemy of yours is an enemy of both of them as well. It didn't matter the reason or the absurdity of your complaints. In pajama nights, it's always your ex who's evil and Lucifer who's unfair. Logic is literally thrown out the window in favour of satisfying all of your ids and egoistic desires. Saying that, it was rare on your part to initiate pajama nights on your own, as Asmo is its usual host, and his fling for the night or a completely clueless Solomon or Lucifer were your usual topics of hostility. Levi uses pajama nights as an excuse to rave about his favourite anime this season and was therefore banned from saying the word unless necessary™. Mammon was usually an avoided topic as well because your biased ass will side with the "enemy". Well fuck your usual. You've got a big ass target on his back and you're not afraid to shoot him (or maul him on the ground and have your way with him, whatever works). You realised your angry-horny highs were lingering within you so you calmed it down with another spoonful of ice cream.

"Fuck Mammon." you began your "meeting" with eloquence. Your two friends agreed by repeating your statement with malice only equalling your own.

"A question," Asmodeus raised his hand, pointing to the pile of ashes on your table. "That isn't Mammon, isn't it?"

"I wish." you rolled your eyes and pouted. "As stupid and dense as he is sometimes, I still love him. I brought both of you here today because I actually need your help."

"Just so you know, my arm strength isn't the best--"

"We're not burying bodies today, Levi."

"We're not?"

"I want him alive, Asmo…" you corrected. "...for now."

The two of them made sounds of affirmation. You spoke again. "I want to seduce him."

"Ooh~ How exciting!"

"S-seduce?!"

"We don't enter relationships to play house, sweetie." Levi threw a pepperoni at you upon your retort, causing you to giggle. "Joking aside, I was thinking of a public declaration of love! The more embarrassed he will get, the more he won't forget how much I love him, won't he?"

"How heavy~"

"Kinda creepy, dude…"

"Hey! I thought you're on my side!"

Asmo turned to the pile of ashes again and frowned. "And how is your public declaration of love related to your victim's ashes?"

"Oh! I was thinking of making it a good luck charm for him for the final exams!"

"How heavy~"

"C-creepy…"

"It's the letter. IT'S THE LETTER'S ASHES, GUYS."

Consulting both of them on making the good luck charm was the right choice. Levi's amazing at sewing while Asmo's sense for aesthetics was unparalleled. After arguing about the designs and the materials back and forth, the three of you finally agreed on one design. As they have dreaded, you only enlisted their help for them to teach you how to make the good luck charm yourself. No amount of their friendly reminders of your precious errors and sewing disasters intimidated you enough to consider probably asking for their help. If you wanted to win Mammon's heart back, you wanted to do it on your own! Time was limited however and so was the rift between you and Mammon growing further and further each day. You attempted to make peace with him despite his frequent attempts to avoid you, never losing your heart and staying close to your goals. You were thankful for Asmo's and Levi's undying support as if not for them, you would have started doubting yourself and charging through without considering Mammon's feelings. The least you could do is listen to him, even if you didn't agree with how he perceived your relationship.

Studying was done with the twins--Belphie's sleepy but academically inclined inputs helpful in answering the reviewers Satan prepared for you firsthand. It was a farfetched goal, but you wanted to top the exams and confess ala T☆kimeki Memorial under some big ass tree or maybe in an abandoned lighthouse. And going by the game's ridiculously high standards, no anime waifu or husbando would ever date a dumbass. If you want a CG event, top the exam, dammit! Forget your social life and hit the books! After all, Mammon looked a lot like your favourite capture target on the second installment. You wanted to look at the bright sides of your fight and start planning an otome-inspired way to end this pet project while you're at it. If not, you'd end up crying after Mammon rejects you for the nth time this week.

You swore you're trying to forget that already.  T_T

It wasn't like you weren't trying to text him either. It's just that he often leaves you on read or just spams you with nonsensical emojis. You attempted to send some noods once (his favourite hell-sauce flavour), but he only accepted your food and awkwardly tried to brush you off to the point that he almost ignored you. He would blush when you told him I love you, and would even look conflicted when he tried pushing you away, but in the end his stubbornness always wins. If he wasn't so cute when he's sulking, you would have already caused him bodily harm. You lied. You already karate chopped his ass a few times in your head. The several other times, you were doing…things to him.

After about 3 days, you managed to finish the good luck charm, which was actually good timing since tonight, RAD was holding a bonfire dance to commemorate the conclusion of the school festival. You had a vague recollection of the event being quite fun, but you were too tired from council work and too stressed over making up with Mammon to notice. He still had most of his stuff in your bedroom so you surmised that he got too embarrassed to tell you he wasn't angry anymore and probably, just probably, he realised how ridiculous his claims were especially after how your affections only intensified (and became all the more embarrassing) after your fight.

You began shamelessly bragging about him at random, and even hired a cheering squad (with you as their center) for Beel's fangol game. Contrary to their expectations however, you weren't cheering for the actual player himself, but one of his brothers watching on the bleachers.  

"That's my boyfriend over there! Look at him spectating! You're doing great, sweetie!♡"

The amount of angry Blacjak stickers he spammed you on your inbox was adorable. Your three days of Vitamin Mammon deficiency had finally caused you some intense withdrawal symptoms. Every demon in the vicinity received a hug. Even the angels weren't safe. A flustered Luke was your victim at breakfast. While Simeon's unsettling calm and soothing laughter accompanied you at lunch. At some point you felt like you hugged Lord Diavolo as well, because the day after, you were writing hundreds and hundreds of pages of reflection letters in Lucifer's study. Mammon had been its frequent victim of course, so most of the other victims exasperatedly told both of you to make up already(especially since it was getting kinda annoying). You agreed, but your lady love didn't. Unfortunately for them, you rather enjoyed the chase, so despite their complaints, you became even more annoying and relentless.

Levi had been understandably distant with you especially after your intense cuddling sessions the other day. You saw him visibly shiver as you called his name, only to calm down when you reassured him that you were reserving the rest of your frustrations at its source himself. Where was Mammon? Was a question you asked yourself as your eyes scanned the area. The moonlight was bright tonight, with several stars dotting the night sky. A large bonfire was placed on the center of the school grounds, dyeing everyone its warm red colour. Lord Diavolo hailed the tradition from Japanese school festivals, and was even excited to adopt a common legend that uncanningly fits your romantic agenda.

Confess your love to the one you like and you'll be together forever.

Romantic, right? It was a stuff from shoujo manga, and you were wholly supportive of it when it was suggested in the council meeting. Lord Diavolo was touched by your enthusiasm, meaning Lucifer (threatened) encouraged the other members who didn't raise their hands to approve of the proposal. Mammon was one of the demons who were "encouraged" which might explain his absence tonight. The announcer greeted everyone from the speakers and asked everyone to get into formation. Students of different realms began grouping themselves for the dance. You were beginning to feel nervous. "Where's Mammon?" you asked Levi and he only shrugged.

"Hiding from you, probably."

"That's not good. How am I supposed to confess to him?"

"With how many public displays of affection you've shown him, I'm sure he already got the message."

"I'll look for him."

You were reluctant to leave your spot, but you left anyway as you were worried about where he was. You saw him earlier when your class was cleaning up their booth, so he should still be in RAD. Probably. You looked for him in several empty classrooms, but your search had been fruitless. You bumped into Simeon who seemed to be in a hurry to go somewhere (your first social interaction for your whole search) so you decided to take advantage of it.

"Have you seen Mammon?"

"Mammon?" the angel pondered your question. "I think he's at the rooftop? He seemed to be going in that direction."

He really is an angel!

"Thank you! When did you see him?"

"Just now, I think? He said he wanted to practice for some…thing." he immediately covered his mouth. "Oh my, perhaps I shouldn't have said that. He was practicing to make up with you, isn't he?"

"Seems like it." you couldn't help but notice the plastic bag he was carrying. Demonus? Leeks? There was medicine in there too. Simeon noticed you staring and smiled. "I'm afraid I can't join the nightly activities. I need to attend to someone."

"Come to think of it, Lucifer seemed to be feeling unwell today. It's the season for colds now, isn't it?"

"Oh…so it seems." huh that was rare. You haven't heard Simeon stutter before. "I must go now; good luck making up with him."

You nodded and thanked Simeon again before parting ways.

💌💌💌

You would have been against scouring RAD by yourself at night if you weren't already decently familiar with the area. Moving paintings akin to the ones at Harrison Potter decorated the walls, and cursed statues that uttered your name and sometimes said 'seven days' were seen to be standing once every corner of a wing or two. Demons have weird aesthetics, one that clashed with the humans when it came to beauty standards--or maybe it was simply Lord Diavolo's own weird tastes influencing the interior design, you didn't know. The stairs leading to the rooftop creaked at every step, but you were too afraid to look back. There was light peeking from the crack of the rooftop door, a faint vermilion that must be coming from the large bonfire outside. Slightly fatigued, you wiped the sweat from your brows and held the doorknob, finding that it was unlocked.

Wow!

The entire rooftop was decorated with…envelopes? From a corner faraway, you saw Mammon busy scribbling something on paper. He jumped from his seat and dropped his quill once he heard your footsteps.

"W-what are you doin' here?!"

You picked up an envelope from the pile that read With Love, From The Great Mammon and held back a chuckle.

"Oi, don't touch that!"

"Is it for me?"

"...."

You noticed he was blushing adorably once you took a few more steps closer, now at skinship range, you smothered the silly demon in your chest and stroked his head, peppering it with kisses.

"So you do love me.♡"

Mammon didn't reply and only hugged you back.

"Let's stop fighting, okay?"

No response.

"I love you, Mammon."

Thinking he didn't hear it, you said it again.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you. I can be stupid at times, maybe even insufferable but, I really love you, you know? I was really angry when you told me I didn't! I would have railed you on the floor if Levi didn't stop me!"

You felt him tense at your words and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't worry! I won't do that anymore! (Probably). So, how did you like my love declarations?" you asked as you loosened the hug, greeted by his still blushing face.

"It's embarrassing."

"Buuuuut is it memorable?"

"Shaddup…"he buried his face on your chest once again. "It's stupid, ain't it? Being jealous of yourself; the stupid letter that ain't even worth much but you really like anyway…"You kissed his cheek in between his speech, and you felt him relax again. You saw remnants of Gentlemammon™ as he looked up at you, bashful and even shy. "Feels like I ain't livin' to your standards sometimes."

"So you asked the witches to curse you?"

"...you seemed to really like it when I was cursed, so I was shocked when you said you didn't."

"Because I do prefer the real you. I wasn't lying."

You saw him open his mouth and hesitate to speak again. The lovely flush on his face deepened as he seemed to think deeply about something.

"A grimm for your thoughts?"

Mammon pouted. "They ain't cheap."

"Then would a kiss do?" you smiled impishly.

!!!

There was a rather loud music playing in the background---mp3 files from the student council's playlist that everyone had compiled. Satan said it was traditional folk music from the human world, but you couldn't really tell. It did cause you to strain your ears to listen to Mammon's almost whisper of a reply.

"...yeah."

And who were you to decline? You bent down to reach for his lips, his, warm and soft on your own. It was chaste, almost comically innocent, for Mammon pouted once you pulled away.

"It's a make-up kiss."

"Even gradeschoolers can do better!"

"I don't know. I haven't kissed someone in ages.

.

.

.

.

.

Maybe if I read that someone's letters over here, it will jog my memory?"

Mammon looked flustered as he tried to stop you from reaching from the pile. But instead of a dreaded envelope on your hands, he saw a trinket instead.

"I burned the letter and made it into a charm! For academic success!"

"You what?"

"I don't really care about the letter, dummy. I was just happy to receive it from you." You smiled bitterly. "Even if you told me you got angry for a stupid reason, I still hurt you. I don't want you chase a shadow of yourself or think I'm loving an illusion of you." You placed the charm on his palm and closed it with his fist.

"What matters to me is the Mammon with me right now: you . I love you Mammon for who you are so please don't ever forget that."

"I think I won't be able to even if I want to…" With all the embarrassing crap you've done? You couldn't help but agree.

"So, what about me Mammon? Do you love me?"

He surprised you by kissing your lips in reply and saying,

"I love you. I really love you."

[ Mammon's Good Ending obtained. ]

💌autoload save slot

💌go back to prologue

💌exit

💌masterlist

[ You have unlocked ~KEY 3: Mammon's Letter ~ ]

💌enter password

(hint: the colour of the flowers decorating the love letter's stationery; one word, lowercase)

[princesssarcastia]

a veronica mars leverage au, i guess, because what else should i be doing with my life?

*deep sigh*

So I was thinking about the mechanics of a veronica mars leverage au—as in, veronica mars characters in a leverage like set-up, because the leverage setup is the golden standard™ of like, the known universe.

you have veronica mars, mastermind; the rest of the crew being made up of wallace, mac, logan, and weevil.  and mac is obviously the hacker.

but I also think that, in this au, the roles won’t be so clear cut.  the problem is that in veronica mars, all of these characters (except mac, who is an archetype) display different skills from each of the five defined roles in the leverage universe: hitter, hacker, grifter, thief, mastermind. 

veronica is a mastermind, sure, but she also makes killer fake IDs and breaks into systems like hardison does and is a hell of a grifter.

weevil can throw down, and lift things like a thief, and even pull one over on someone in a grifter-like fashion. and as head of the PCHers he has some definitive mastermind tendencies; he knows how to plan a fight, and a con.

wallace is more of a solid dude than a member of the criminal element, but when veronica needs him, he’s played roles like a grifter and pulled off lifts like a thief.

logan has a talent for violence, but also can lie like he breathes and put on shows to convince the best of them.

really i guess they all just have a little grifter in them.

if I had to had to had to give them all definitive leverage archetypes, though, it would be veronica: mastermind, logan: hitter, Weevil: thief, wallace: grifter, and of course, mac: hacker.

veronica is the mastermind because she knows all of them best, knows what they can do; because she’s capable of putting all the moving pieces together into one perfect plan; but also because she’s a control freak with maaaajior trust issues.  there’s no way she could ever let anyone else be in charge.

logan is the hitter because he’s just got that underlying current of violence about him at all times, but also because my absolute favortie scenes of his are when he’s being protective of veronica.  not that end of season three bullshit, mind you, but like the scene in season one when he rescues her from the federal agent, or the scene in season two when he bluffs his way into and out of the irish mob’s territory with an unloaded gun to save veronica.  make him the hitter and we get breathtaking violence from him, sure.  but we also get to see logan at his best: giving a damn about the well-being of others. 

weevil is the thief because this guy is smooth.  he pulled the heist at the carnival brilliantly in s2; and he stole that pen from the Kane household in s1 successfully even though the police arrested him and catalogued everything on his person, including the pen. it’s a bit of a square peg in a round hole, but I feel like he;d have comfortable knowledge of security systems and guard rotations and police jurisdictions.

wallace is the grifter because i’ve noticed that a lot of the times he asks veronica for advice on how to do stuff, its grift-related.  “how do I seduce the fake head cheerleader?” for example.  and he pulls some short term grifts for her, like when he infiltrates the silicon mafia at SD State.  also he’s got the best innate knowledge of who people are and what they’re like.  yeah, veronica can pull people apart, but Wallace is just good with them in a way she isn’t.  and also he’s got the most emotional maturity out of any of these basket cases.

mac is the hacker because she’s god’s gift to computers, duh.

what I really want, though; what any good leverage AU is an excuse to do, is to make a found family out of these losers.  imagine if these five people all...trusted and loved each other, in addition to liking one another??  i’m drooling just thinking about it.

I also think that, ironically enough, being righteous criminals in constant close contact would work wonders for veronica and logan’s relationship, lbr.  if veronica is mastermind-ing their cons, she doesn’t have to wonder what logan—or any of her other friends, for that matter—are doing, and go a little crazy to find out.  it’s an outlet for her control-freak-trust-issues.

aaaand if logan is their hitter/muscle, it’s literally his job to protect everyone, including veronica.  violently, if necessary. 

plus, they can both work out their paranoia on things that aren’t each other—cause it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you.

the best episodes always involved Veronica pulling her friends into cons with her; VM the show is already only a hop-skip-and-a-jump away from leverage, anyway!  solving mysteries, sure, but also getting revenge, retrieving items, getting even...providing leverage.

like, seriously.

Veronica and Wallace effortlessly pulling a grift out of their asses when they’re caught in a sticky situation, using that emotional drift comparability in their brOTP.

Mac, getting the respect and cash she deserves for finding information and recovering hard drives and also, giving her righteous side some room to move.

Logan and Weevil sniping at each other, maybe having not-so-faux fights as distractions or part of a con— but having each other’s backs.  playing partners in macho stoicism even though we all know they’re softies sometimes.

Wallace and Mac, standing to the side as exasperated captains of the maturity and stability team while Logan and Veronica share a dumpster fire.

Veronica and Weevil doing that thing, you know, where they’re kind of flirting and kind of pulling one over on their audience and pulling each other out of messes.

Wallace, prince among men, getting to play the handsome and charming credit to his gender he is.  imagine, if you will, him pulling honey-trap cons on marks like sophie deveraux did.  i am and it’s delightful.

the worst part about canon!VM is how much they all (veronica.  largely veronica) tore one another down; betrayed people; didn’t trust them; hurt them; expected the worst and got it in self-fulfilling bullshit.  imagine if all of that went away and then write it for me pleeeaaaseee

i’ve been brainstorming and like, there’s two paths you could go.  one is a complete graft to the leverage fusion, in which they never actually went to high school together but instead are professional criminals who all grew into their own on their own and came together.  in this path, we’d come in on our anti-heroes already in the thick of it—or at least, having deep histories together that allow them to trust one another right away.

the other is like, veronica falls to the “dark side” in high school and drags them all with her, handing out black hats as she goes. perhaps in a world where Aaron Echolls gets acquitted and Duncan Kane does not have an assassin at the ready to avenge his sister outside the law, where Veronica literally can’t sleep at the thought of him out there.  a world where Logan and Weevil have that same insomnia, and Mac and Wallace care about Veronica enough to help. 

and maybe it starts out as just a way to get new evidence so a judge can declare a retrial and get Aaron convicted; but ohhh, Aaron Echolls is not a man who can leave well enough alone.  He’s a rich, powerful, attention seeking mother fucker who likes to taunt logan and veronica about what he did to lily.  so even though it’s not Duncan paying for him to get assassinated, the end result is the same: Aaron dead as a doornail, like he deserves.

Maybe it’s a fake suicide, like Veronica planned out for her criminology course, the literal perfect crime.  Maybe he gets murdered and dumped on Lamb’s doorstep with an audio recording of him confessing—edited by Mac, of course, to make sure Veronica and Logan’s parts in the charade weren’t included.

also i’d like to think that, in this world where they wear black hats to better play white knights, Veronica and Logan have just...the best-worst reputation.  Yeah, they melt around each other, but ho-ly shit they’re still lethal—especially if you put one in danger.   Maybe Logan’s got a reputation as an attack dog, and maybe Veronica’s got a reputation as holding his leash, and maybe they’ve proven they’re willing to do anything to keep each other safe.  Maybe, they made a deal, a long time ago when they started out: Veronica gets to get into anything she wants, whatever crusade is currently pushing her buttons, as long as she brings Logan along to protect her. 

their story is epic, after all.

anyway! In Conclusion, tl;dr, someone please stop me from having veronica mars feelings, and if leverage could please stop being the best found family ever, that would probably help.

[orangeoctopi7]

A Little Scare

@forduary week 2 is trust/paranoia, so here’s a little feral!Ford fic.

***

“Grunkle Stan, you promised you’d take us to the grocery store!” Mabel complained.

“Yeah, well that was before I broke my toe tripping over your hot glue gun.”

Stan was sitting in his recliner, both feet up, while Ford applied some sort of special cream to the swollen, blackened toe in question. The kids stood between him and the TV, determined not to let their Grunkle just relax and watch TV until they got what they wanted.

“But I still have another dozen cookies to make for tonight’s human-gnome relations seminar, and we’re all out of eggs and milk!”

“And I’m out of ball-point pens!” Dipper added.

“Look, kids, Ford says I gotta stay off my foot for the next 24 hours if his incredible cure-all is gonna work. Otherwise I’m gonna be in a boot for the rest of the month, and nobody wants that. Why can’t you just ask Soos to take you once tours are done for the day?”

“Because he doesn’t finish until six, and the seminar starts at 6:30!”

“You know, Stan, I could take them.” Ford offered.

Stan gave his brother a skeptical glance. “You sure about that, Poindexter? Remember what happened last time?”

Ford rolled his eyes. “That was last fall! I’ve made a lot of progress keeping my cool in social situations.”

“Yeah, in open-air markets, not a cramped little grocery store.”

“You know what? I’m going to take them, just to prove to you that I can!” Ford huffed.

“Alright, fine. ‘Snot like I can stop you. But take Soos’s truck. There’s no way I’m lettin’ you drive my car.”

“Fine.”

“Yay!” The kids cheered, following Ford into the hall.

Stan caught hold of Dipper’s vest as the boy passed. 

“Hey, kid, do me a favor? Just stick close to Ford while you’re at the store, alright?”

Dipper nodded. “Sure thing, Grunkle Stan.”

***

“I don’t see why Stanley is so insistent that I can’t drive his car.” Ford complained as he pulled into the parking lot. “I got us here without incident.”

“Well, you did end up on the curb a handful of times.” Mabel pointed out.

“And narrowly avoided a collision with a car parked on the side of the road.”

“Avoided being the operative word.” Ford insisted. “And don’t try and tell me Stan’s any better.”

“True.” the kids agreed.

The grocery store wasn’t terribly busy, but Gravity Falls wasn’t a big town, so that was to be expected. As soon as they entered, Mabel led them into the dairy section to get her eggs and milk. They were both located in the back corner of the store. Stanford found himself tensing as he walked down a cold aisle filled with different kinds of cheese, butter, cream, milk, and eggs. He couldn’t see the other people in there with them, couldn’t see what they were doing, couldn’t see the exit--

It’s fine. He told himself. It’s just a grocery store. People are just here to get food.

“Welp, I gotta go get some girl stuff.” Mabel declared once she’d loaded her carton of eggs into the grocery cart. “See you guys at the checkout!” She sauntered off to the other end of the store, quickly lost from Ford’s sight among all the displays of soda cans and snack cakes.

“She’ll be ok.” Dipper assured his uncle, slipping his tiny hand into the scientist’s larger one. Ford immediately blushed. Was his discomfort that obvious?

Dipper led Ford to the office supplies, where they grabbed a packet of nice blue ink pens. It really wasn’t that bad, he kept telling himself. Sure, he was tense, he was on high-alert, even higher because Mabel had wandered off on her own, but he could handle it. It would be fine.

It would have been fine, if not for the spill.

They were passing through the frozen aisle when someone behind them pulled out a big bag of frozen peas. Unfortunately, the bag had frozen together with its neighbor, and when one was pulled out, it tried to take the second bag with it, leading to a rip. Two bags full of frozen peas spilled onto the floor, making a cacophony of pinging, tinkling sounds. Tiny ice crystals flew up in the air as the peas shattered. Ford’s hairs stood on end as the cold flecks showered them. As the rapid-fire shattering assaulted his ears. 

Suddenly, Ford wasn’t in the grocery store. He was in the ice fields of Raretania 2, with a pack of cryokinetic creatures on his tail. Icicles grew on them like spines, and when they wanted to take down a meal, they could shoot the ice shards like a porcupine on steroids.

The old researcher scooped up his nephew and began frantically searching for a place to hide. Outrunning these things wasn't an option, when they could shoot their icicles with such speed and accuracy. These aisles were barren of any real cover. All they did was hide whatever was on the other side. However, Ford did notice a few feet of space between the top of the freezers and the ceiling. That could work. 

He more-or-less threw Dipper up onto the freezers before scaling them himself. A quick survey of the area showed they had lost their pursuers for now. But someone was still in immediate danger.

"Where's your sister!?" Ford hissed quietly to Dipper, who was still sputtering after being thrown up here like a pile of dirty laundry.

"Wh-- probably the cosmetics aisle, I dunno! What's--"

"We need to get to her before they do."

"They who?"

"I don't know if they have an actual name on the planet they're from. I always just called them Iciquills. Suffice to say, they're extremely dangerous, so we need to find Mabel and warn her. Now come on, we can probably jump to the next shelf from here."

Rather than be concerned, Dipper just latched onto his uncle's leg, stopping him from leaping. "Great Uncle Ford, no! You'll just hurt yourself! Or at the very least make a huge mess!"

"That hardly matters in this situation! We need to find Mabel without drawing their attention."

"Mabel's not in danger! We're not in danger! Stop and think! Why would Iciquills be here, at the grocery store? How would Iciquills be at the grocery store?"

Every cell in Ford's body was screaming at him to act before it was too late. But he knew if there was any real danger, Dipper wouldn't just brush it off like this. And when he stopped to think about it, no, it didn't make any logical sense.

"But… but I heard it! The sound of their quills just missing a target! I felt the breaking ice on the backs of my legs!" 

"Oh. I guess that was pretty scary, when you put it like that." Dipper grimaced. "But I promise, it was just an accident! Someone dropped their peas. Look!" The boy pointed to the back of his uncle's pant legs. Tiny flecks of thawing peas stuck there.

Ford's heart sank, and his face burned red with embarrassment. He'd come here to prove Stanley wrong, and instead did just the opposite. Now he wanted to hide up here for completely different reasons.

"The longer we stay up here, the more embarrassing it's gonna get." Dipper suggested.

Ford nodded mutely, and swung his legs over the top of the freezer, dropping the last few feet with a light "oof" before helping Dipper down. Luckily, the only person who'd seen the whole debacle was the guy who'd dropped the peas in the first place: Wendy's tall friend, Lee. He seemed to know better than to make a scene, and just waved meekly.

"Dude, I'm so sorry."

"No, no, I'm sorry." Ford reflected.

"Come on, let's see if Mabel's done." Dipper suggested.

They found her in the cosmetics aisle, like Dipper had expected, comparing two brands of lip-balm. She noticed their soured moods almost immediately. 

"Is something wrong? What happened?"

"I'll tell you in the car." Dipper assured her. "Let's just buy our stuff and go."

After rushing through the checkout line, they piled back into Soos's truck and headed home. Dipper filled Mabel in on Ford's scare. To the old man's credit, he did his best to laugh it off now that it had passed.

"I'd appreciate it if you two didn't mention that to Stan."

Mabel and Dipper shared a wicked glance. "Well, it's gonna take a lot of chocolate to make us forget that." The colorful girl said.

[an-aura-about-you]

Sealed With A Kiss

Hey, when inspiration strikes, you gotta write.

“Will you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Autor looks askance across the table at Erina. It’s probably the best reaction she could have asked for, honestly.

“Why?” Autor asks.

Erina puts her hands along her nose, fingers at the bridge. “Because if I have to hear Mr. Felidae ask me one more goddamn time if me and Fakir are gonna get married, I’m gonna scream.”

His face scrunches a bit. “That’s pretty inappropriate to ask.”

She slips her hands together so the palms meet and pleads, “C’mon, won’t you pretend to be my boyfriend to get him and like the half of Goldkrone that’s trying to pair me up with Fakir off my back?”

He’s got one why covered now, but Erina’s response hadn’t answered the others implied by his asking.

“What’s Fakir said about all of this?”

She scoffs, letting her arms drop to the table. “He doesn’t care. If it’s not dancing, writing, or his duckling, he just ignores it. Good luck finding someone he looks at with even half as much affection as he does that duck.”

He considers this while sipping his tea, glad Erina didn’t take him up on the offer to make some for her and that his parents are out for the time-being. His mind wanders off to whether spilling tea or his parents hearing Erina’s request would be worse, but he reins his thoughts in.

“Why a pretend boyfriend, though? Surely you could find a real one.”

“Uggggggh, I don’t have time to put that much into a relationship.”

“And you don’t think you’re going to have to put in time with me to make things convincing?” Autor puts his tea down and crosses his arms. “Why ask me at all? Real or fake, there have to be other guys you could ask to do this.”

“Yeah, but you’re not gross around me,” she answers. “Or at least, I haven’t caught you leering at me or anything. And you got your own stuff going on like books and piano, so if people ask why we’re not all hanging on each other I can say, ‘Oh, Autor had to go study; you know how he is,’ or, ‘Autor’s practicing a new piece and needs to concentrate.’ You know, you’re a real person like that.”

It’s an odd sort of compliment, if she even meant it as one, but Autor accepts it as one anyway.

When she doesn’t put anything else forth, he sits and contemplates her case. She’s trying to make things complicated, or at least she doesn’t understand how complicated it can get. Being a verbal excuse is one thing, but it won’t be enough for the gossips in town to actually leave her alone. They’ll want evidence. Which means, if he agrees, he has to be willing to provide it. Is he willing to do that? And if not, where do they go from here?

“C’mon, please?” she asks again.

“I’m thinking about it,” he answers. “What’s in it for me?”

“I have money,” she says.

Autor scoffs this time. “Money for this?”

“I have jewelry shop money,” she clarifies.

“And I have descendant of a fairy tale author, son of a successful opera singer money,” he retorts. “You don’t want to give me money. You don’t want someone willing to take it to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

“Well then, what do you want?” she asks.

Autor loosens the fold of his arms a little. What does he want? Within Erina’s scope of granting, that is. Nothing jumps to mind, so he lets himself think once more. And once again, Erina interrupts the thoughts.

“Oh wait, I think I’ve got something!” she says. “It’s not with me, but I can get it for you to see. It’s a piece of jewelry my dad made, the AURYN.”

His eyes widen, his arms drop, and just like that her mouth pulls into a satisfied smirk.

“What?” he gets out. “He made a replica of AURYN from The Neverending Story?”

“Yep!” Erina answers, taking her turn to fold her arms. “He’s actually made a few of them, with the inscription on the back and everything. He likes working on the little details of the piece. Some of them are cheaper metal, so I can get you one without him making a fuss-” She lifts a hand up here, pointer finger up. “-if you’re willing to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Just like everything that came before, this new offer deserves Autor’s thought as well. But any arguments he might have had against it are crumbling. In a flash he’s back in the shoes of Bastian Balthazar Bux, shoes he’s walked in at least a dozen times if not more, and he’s being offered the Gem, the Glory, by the Childlike Empress herself. Come to think of it, her brown eyes do have a touch of gold in the light. Is that why her father likes making replicas of AURYN or does he just appreciate a good book, too? But besides that, he understands enough to know that he doesn’t want or need the actual AURYN, not when his family is born with the ability to do what they wish without the same dreadful consequences.

Autor takes a deep breath and goes, “Fine. Okay. You win, Golden-Eyed Commander of Wishes.“

“Yes!” Erina calls, pulling her arms in and balling her hands up in success.

“But,” he cuts in. “If we’re going to do this, we need to set up the rules of our charade.”

“Rules?” she asks, carrying that familiar tone of What Am I Getting Myself Into? that Autor’s heard so often.

“Like how far we’re going to carry the act,” he says, matter of fact. “Obviously the whole point of a pretend boyfriend is to be performative, but how far does the performance go? Where does it end? Clearly, I’ll need to know so I don’t make a mistake later.”

“Now look, if I thought things were gonna get this complicated, it’d probably be easier to get an actual boyfriend.”

Autor shrugs. “I guess there’s nothing stopping you from doing that, but it’d lead to a boundaries talk, too.”

Erina leans her hand on her cheek. “You just like writing rules up, don’t you? I get the feeling you’d do the same thing if I asked you to be my boyfriend for real.”

He gets out of his seat to fetch a pen and paper. “Come on, you want this to be convincing, right? If it’s not, half of Goldkrone is going to keep trying to play matchmaker between you and Fakir. They might anyway if they think I’m not a good boyfriend.”

“Fine,” she agrees, drumming her fingers against her.

And with that, the negotiations begin. The two manage to set the rules of secrecy and schedule a regular public date night, the framework of their relationship easy enough to build. But as with most negotiations, the details need the most work.

“Okay, what am I permitted to call you with regards to terms of endearment?” Autor asks, scratching the outline of a new section.

“Really? That seems like something we’d figure out in time.”

“Maybe if we were an actual couple, but if there’s anything that I absolutely can’t call you, it’s better if I know now.” He taps the pen at his chin. “For example, if I end up calling you kitten and you leave in a huff, people who thought we were dating might think you’ve ended it.”

Erina sticks her tongue out when he says kitten. “Okay, I see your point. Definitely not kitten. How about you just run through some and we’ll see what I do?”

“All right. Honey?”

She scrunches her nose a bit, pulling her lip up almost in a snarl.

“Liebling?”

She tips her head from side to side, shaking the word about to see if it fits. It doesn’t.

“Pet?”

“Ew, no!”

“I should probably just steer clear of animals and words relating to them entirely,” he says, making note of that. “Do you have any nicknames?”

“Not really?” she tells him with a shrug. “Most people just call me Erina.”

“I could go with The Neverending Story again. How about Moonchild?”

“Except for that.” She even holds a hand up. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because sometimes my dad calls me Moonchild. It’d be weird for a boyfriend to call me that, real or fake.”

“That’s fair,” he agrees. Maybe he’s right about his guess on Erina’s father thinking of Erina like the Childlike Empress. “And Golden-Eyed Commander of Wishes is a bit lengthy for a pet name. Maybe once in a while if you want me to be particularly mushy, but not all the time.” He writes it down separate from the other names he’s gone through, listing it out as an extreme cases nickname. “With your name being so short, it’s not like there’s much to shorten it to in the first place. Erin? Rin? Rina?”

Erina’s eyes widen a bit at the last one. “Wait, Rina is cute.”

“Oh?” He writes it down and jots, “maybe?” beside it.

“Yeah. How come no one’s ever called me that until now?” She waves her hand to permit it. “You can call me that all you want.”

He scratches out, “maybe?” and puts down, “Definitely,” in its place.

“So what do I get to call you?” she asks, propping her elbows on the table and setting her chin in her hands. “Do you have any nicknames?”

“Not really,” Autor admits. “Guess there’s not much point when my name’s only two syllables.”

“I could call you Tory.”

He hums, his pen to his mouth. “It’s not bad. We could try it if you like, but I don’t know if I’d answer to it.”

Erina hums in return. “That’s a good point. What about honey?”

He shrugs.

“Sweetheart?”

He shakes his head, not in dismissal but as though shaking his hair out. “That just seems wrong.”

“Dear?”

“Maybe, though it doesn’t feel terribly personal.”

“Well, how personal do we wanna get? That can turn into a slippery slope.”

“That’s fair.” He makes a note on the page. “Look, I’m probably not going to get offended by anything you call me, so why don’t we just leave that alone for now? We have other matters to discuss, anyway.”

“Like...?” she prompts.

“Like where I’m permitted to kiss you.”

Erina lifts her head away from her hands. “Excuse me?!”

Autor rolls his eyes. “I mean for chaste public displays of affections. Honestly, if you don’t care about it looking real, what’s the point of having a pretend boyfriend?” He takes down another note. “I was considering lips, cheeks, and hands.”

She sighs, partly in frustration and partly in relief. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Or at least, lips and cheeks do. Why hands, though?”

“Like this,” he says, holding his hand out to her.

Slowly, Erina puts her hand in his, and he brings it up to leave a brief kiss on the back.

“Oh...” she says in understanding. Or perhaps something else. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

He takes his hand back, letting it slip out from under hers. He briefly presses his lips together a moment from a strange, inexplicable spark? Why was there a spark? And he continues writing. “All right. What about holding hands and hugs?”

She takes her hand back, tapping her fingers against her lips and occasionally looking to the spot where Autor kissed her. “Holding hands is fine. Hugs will probably be better later when I’m more used to this setup.”

“Fine with me; I’m not big on hugs myself. Is there anything else I should know about as far as date topics or actions that are off limits?”

“I mean, this all sounds pretty good,” she says. “I can’t think of any specific topic that’s a definite no on a date, and I’d probably tell you then and there if something comes up, anyway. Don’t worry about, like, chivalry or whatever, though. You don’t have to hold the door open for me or pay for dinner or bring flowers or anything.”

“Okay, but what if I want to bring flowers as part of the act? If I’m going to pretend to be your boyfriend, I want to look like a good one.”

She smiles against her fingertips. “I can’t argue with that. If you want to bring flowers, then I’ll accept them, but they’re not a requirement.”

He nods and adds another note. “And your favorite flowers?”

“Orange roses.”

Autor looks up from his paper at her immediate answer. “That didn’t take you long.”

Erina shrugs. “I like roses, but I get tired of the red ones and white ones people give after a performance. So I like the ones that are different, and orange is my favorite color for them.”

“Well, that’s fair,” he agrees, taking another note. “And if you like, when you feel I’ve done my duty to earn AURYN, you can give it to me on one of our dates. I think that will really help the verisimilitude.”

She laughs at this. “Paying you for your fake boyfriend services in front of other people while they think I’m just giving my boyfriend a gift? I love it. I’ll wrap it up and everything for you.”

He scratches in a few more details and then sets his pen down. “There.” He turns the paper for her to see. “Does all of this look agreeable to you?”

She picks up the paper, squints her eyes a moment, and frowns. “Your handwriting is awful.”

“That’s just my notes. If you’d like me to write it up properly, I can. Or I can dictate it to you and you can write your own copy for...”

She looks at him when he trails off and goes, “What?”

He covers part of his face with his hand and goes, “I was going to say you could write your own copy for your records. Why in the world would you want a record of this?”

She snorts and laughs again. “Good point. Well, if it’s everything that we just talked about, then it’s fine with me.”

“That’s settled, then,” Autor says, getting to his feet and holding his hand out to her.

“Hm?” she hums in curiosity.

“Well?” he says. “We’re making a deal. Shouldn’t we shake on it?”

Erina stands as well. “Shake on it? That seems awfully impersonal for my ‘boyfriend’ to suggest. If we’re gonna have to get used to kissing each other anyway, why not seal it with a kiss?”

Autor’s eyes widen as his arm drops to his side. “I wasn’t exactly planning on kissing anyone today.”

“You already did,” she says, showing him the back of her hand. And with that same hand, she reaches to him and tugs him closer by the collar of his shirt. She stares him down, pointedly not saying anything about the tiny gasp he made.

He pulls her hand away from his collar but doesn’t move back. “Fine. But we go in together.”

“Fine,” she agrees.

And with that, they both lean in towards each other and briefly meet their lips together in a chaste press of a kiss.

Autor slowly pulls away, telling himself the new spark he feels on his mouth is not that but a sting. He has just agreed to lie, might as well start by insisting in his mind that this is a good idea.

“So, shall I pick you up at the time of the appointment?” he makes himself ask.

Erina smiles and answers, “It’s a date.”

[trans-shuichisaihara]

pregame!Kaito goes for his interview. There’s more than was shown on the tape.

warnings for mentions of abuse, homophobia, and depression/caregiver fatigue

[Read on AO3]

Kaito's breath came out in short, heavy huffs, heart pounding as if he'd just run a marathon. Across from him, the head interviewer's only response was to quirk an eyebrow.

"That was quite the passionate display. But you can stop lying now."

Panic flickered in his chest, and Kaito's immediate response was to double down. "Wha--No! I meant what I said!"

She was unfazed. "Now now, don't get so defensive. I understand, you're just saying what you think we want to hear. You must really want to participate in the next season of Danganronpa, huh?" She gave him a warm smile, no trace of mockery in the curl of her lips. "So that's why I want to hear your real reason. I want to find real fans, not just those who are looking to feed their bloodlust."

She leaned forward, chin on her palms. "So, tell me about your life. What drew you to Danganronpa?"

Kaito hesitated. A torrent of conflicted emotions rushed through his body, filling every crevice with the desire to run away. He didn't have to answer. He could leave, return to his daily life as if he'd never even applied in the first place.

... The idea seized his heart with the icy grip of despair.

He averted his eyes and swallowed. It took another few minutes to get any words out, but she was patient, saying nothing as the room was consumed in an awkward silence.

"Have you ever regretted meeting someone?"

She didn't answer his question, and that was probably for the best--it was rhetorical anyway. He continued. "Dad worked in one of those office jobs where he regularly put in twelve hour days. He'd come home and take his stress out on everything in our two-bedroom apartment. At first, it was just the furniture, but then... Well, it escalated.

"Apparently he caught Mom with another man one day. He came home in a rage, breaking anything she owned or used regularly. Wasn't much, since she'd given up on replacing stuff he broke in earlier fits." He paused, taking a deep breath to prepare himself. "When he ran out of stuff, he turned on me. It... It was the first time he'd beaten me. Probably 'cause Mom was always protecting me."

He clenched his fists. "... She never came back. Last I heard, she filed for divorce then married the other guy. Never came to rescue me--guess it was too much trouble." It still hurt, and talking about it was like sticking his hand into a pile of smoldering ashes.

"Managed to live with him for a few years. Middle school was hell though. I spent as much time out of the house as I could to stay out of his way--of course, without being out so long that he got mad about that too. Studied a lot, got into a good high school. Thought the business school I chose would make him happy." He shook his head. "Always seemed like nothing would make him happy though."

As he poured his heart out into the open, she nodded along. He was glad that despite her having a notepad in front of her, she didn't write anything about what he was saying.

He pushed onward. "Got curious in high school. About... About other guys. You know?" He sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I, uh, looked up some stuff on the internet, and didn't clear my search history. Never been that good with computers, didn't even think about it.

"So he found out, and reacted by beating the shit outta me. As if that would fix whatever was wrong with my head or something. He ended up breaking my nose." He paused, tracing the crooked cartilage. "I was cowering on the floor--hoping he would stop kicking me, blood dripping everywhere--and I just... had this sudden realization that I was done."

He inhaled, then slowly exhaled. "I left that night and never went back. Should've done that long before, but... He was my dad, you know? I knew he just had a lot goin' on. It's still hard to blame him, even though I know it wasn't right."

At some point, a bottle of water was placed in front of him. He finally took it into his hand, cracking the lid off with a sharp twist and downing a third of it. He still had more to say, so his throat was thankful for the cool, refreshing sensation it brought.

Honestly, he hadn't expected to spend so much time talking about his dad. Perhaps it was because he never really had the opportunity to get all those emotions out properly.

"Anyway, so I ended up taking myself to the hospital after throwing some essentials in a bag. I was sittin' in the waiting room, plugging my nose with a tissue, and that's... That's when I met him. Ouma Kokichi."

If he hadn't started to zone out, lost in his memories, he might've noticed how her hand twitched towards her pen--ultimately, she didn't pick it up, but her eyes shone with interest as the conversation shifted.

"He was havin' this panic attack or something, and so I started talkin' to him to help him calm down while we waited. And, well, I thought he was kinda cute, so... When we both got released at the same time too, it kinda felt like fate, you know? One thing led to another, and we decided to rent this crappy one-bedroom apartment together."

He sighed. "I dunno, things just got so intense so fast. Like don't get me wrong, I care about him a lot, like, a lot a lot. But... It's hard. I ended up dropping out of school so that I could work and pay for our apartment."

"What about him?" she asked, her first question finally breaking the flow of his monologue.

Kaito frowned. "He... He can't really go outside all that much. It stresses him out, so he stays inside unless he really has to leave. But he's doing some online school stuff, so..."

She hummed. "Sounds unfair. You have to do all the heavy lifting while he gets to complete his coursework at his leisure. Say, how many hours are you working?"

"Uhh..." He hadn't quite thought about it. "I have a few different part time jobs. They don't really like hiring high school aged teens full time. Labor laws and all that. But... it's probably more than 40 hours a week, if I had to guess."

She nodded. "So after the stress started to build up, you turned to escapism?"

The accuracy of her statement nerved him out. "... I guess you could put it like that. There was a used copy of that spin-off game, uh, Ultra Despair Girls. Never really played Danganronpa, but the back said something about destroying those weird bears, Monokumas or whatever, and... It was kinda appealing, for the action aspect." He scratched the back of his neck. "Didn't expect it to be so... relatable. Ended up bawling like a baby on my couch at four in the morning because of that first boss battle.

"So, uh, I decided to give the series a chance. Haven't seen a lot, just the games really. Watching other people play them is free, after all. Usually just listened while I worked--that was really the only time I could find for it." He couldn't watch it at home, after all; Kokichi hated anything to do with Danganronpa, and the thought of being told off for consuming it made Kaito's heart feel like it was going to rip itself in two.

"It was like... Even though I wasn't personally playing it, I could tell why it was so popular. It really does bring hope to people, makes 'em see that even they can make a difference. Got me thinking the same thing after a while."

He gave her a wry smile. "But I guess you've sorta guess that it didn't work out like I wanted it to." She didn't respond, but that was fine. "I thought if I worked hard enough, maybe I could help Kokichi. I tried to ease all his worries and take care of him so he could focus on getting better. But..."

He shook his head. "It just... never happened. Again, nothing I did was good enough. I just... I just wanna be able to help people, to be good enough for once in my life. So when I saw that you guys did these live action DR games, well... I just started thinking about how nice it would be if I was able to fix everything like one of those protags in the games. Befriend others, watch them grow in a positive way instead of staying stagnant... Sounded a whole lot better than the daily grind."

He let out a shallow laugh. "Horrible, isn't it? Running away from my responsibilities for such a selfish reason. It'll break my grandma's heart if I end up dying, after all. But..." He trailed off, biting back the truth that death sounded better than returning to his fatigued life just outside the room.

She once again hummed, and finally moved to pick up her pen. She clicked it, but didn't write anything when she brought it to the paper. "So, what you would want is to help others achieve their true potential? To make them feel like they can do anything? A cool, mentor type... Hm... I could definitely see a place for you."

Despite himself, when she wrote HERO on the paper, his heart swelled with genuine hope.

[elisabethrosewrites]

The Cafe Test

Tagged by the wonderful @bookenders! Promise I didn’t forget about this I’ve just been down with the flu for like five days. 

So this actually works well with my story because there is a cafe in it. 

Did they get a cafe they liked? What kind of cafe do they like? What does that say about their character?

Kalum: Loves cafes, he doesn’t much like to be on his own, he loves to be around people just not interacting with them. He loves close and cozy cafe’s with overstuffed armchairs and couches, low music playing, and a huge supply of Earl Grey tea and honey. As far as what that says about his character, he doesn’t like to be alone with his thoughts because he’s anxious a lot, he’s also fond of watching people but not interacting much, probably the artist type. 

Julian: He doesn’t really care about cafes unless he’s in the mood. He usually likes places that don’t feel too personal just so he can get in and out unnoticed and unharassed. However, if there is anything remotely chocolatey or sweet on display he will walk in just to “browse” their selection. He is very guilty of having a sweet-tooth. As far as what that says about his character, he also isn’t much of a people person but has a soft side? I suppose that works.  

1. Where do they sit? (Near the door because there’s an exit? Near the back to hide? Where it’s shadowy? Where they’ll be seen by a waiter? Lots of table space for writing/drawing/hands? Minimal space? Would they ever sit with others? What do these things say about their character?)

Kalum: Kal likes to sit in the back or near the fireplace. These tend to be the warmest spots which make them the best to sit in for hours to people watch. He is rather like a lazy cat. There’s a seat at the back with a good table for days that he wants to spread out his work to draw. This says he is content to sit and do a single task for hours on end. 

Julian: Julian likes the seat that’s closer to the door, if he even decides to stop and sit down. If he has to sit his posture usually displays is tension and he usually burns his mouth on his drink in an effort to finish it. This says that he is a very “on-the-go” character who, unlike Kal, is not content to just sit and exist. 

2. What do they order? (Is it sweet? Is it focused on hydration only? Is it expensive? (Can they afford it if it is?) Is it milky and warm? Is it to wake them up? To comfort them like a hot cocoa? Does it bring back memories? Do they get a drink connected to other people in their lives?)

Kalum: Order tea, his usual cafe has a special Earl Grey Creme that has just the right amount of caffeine for him but the flavor is more of what he’s after. If it’s that tea he could drink it straight without added sugar/honey or milk. If its not that tea he ends up using more milk and honey in it. Tea of any kind brings him a sort of comfort and he is guilty of drinking more than three cups of it in one sitting. 

Julian: Is very much a coffee drinker and the more espresso shots the better. He will add plenty of sugar but usually leaves out the creme. He needs it to wake him up and get his systems working in the morning. If he doesn’t get it, good luck getting a coherent thought from him for the rest of the day. 

3. If they get a snack, what do they get? (See above for similar questions to ask. Another good one is: Are they allergic to anything? Are there health concerns? Do they have to worry about their digestion for any reason? Or is their stomach made of steel?)

Kalum: Kal will order a breakfast sandwich (usually sausage over bacon with no egg and extra cheese). 

Julian: Julian orders cake, any cake really, the sweeter and more sickening the better. 

4. How do they pay? (Are they rich? Poor? Do they count their pennies or do they throw a whole bunch of gold on the table? Or are they rich and stingy, counting their pennies because that’s how they got rich in the first place? Do they run out without paying? Do they not give a shit about the law? Are they desperate for a feed and want to pay but just can’t?)

Kalum: Kal usually pays in cash and sets aside money each month to make sure to budget himself (wish I could relate). He works a lot so rare days where he can just sit and enjoy his favorite cafe are what he allows himself to splurge on a little. 

Julian: Has no money worries. He usually pays with a card-based currency and doesn’t bat an eye when his sugar addiction adds up to more than one person should be spending. 

5. How do they interact with staff? (No eye contact? Lots of smiles? Friendly banter? Awkward conversation?)

Kalum: Kal usually offers the barista a friendly but shy smile. He doesn’t like for people to think he’s rude. 

Julian: is usually brisk and doesn’t care what people think. He barely offers so much as a ‘hello’ let alone a smile. 

I’m tagging @fanastyfinder @hannahs-creations @hammannahwrites @pens-swords-stuff @capricious-writes @i-rove-rock-n-roll 

Sorry if anyone I tagged already did it :)

[grantfieldgrove]

Your friends want you to fail.

It’s true.

It’s true and it sucks.

But the sooner you realize this, the better off you’ll be. You can set yourself on the course for success while leaving them behind.

That’s exactly what your friends don’t want, but you have the capability to make it happen.

I’m not trying to be negative, but I’ve learned this the hard way.

Let me back up a bit.

Ten years ago I was working a dead end job at a grocery store. I hated it. The pay was crap. The work was crap. Most of the customers were crap. But I had friends!

I was miserable. I had a temper, I was angry about everything. I was bitter that I worked this job I didn’t like when I knew I should be doing better. I was all over social media, posting about everything, even belittling people I didn’t even know by snapping pictures of them and posting them, then enjoying a laugh at their expense.

That’s bottom of the barrel, self-esteem wise.

I would fight with people who held different political beliefs than me, different opinions about religion, or even movies. I was the loud mouth Fred Flintstone type, but I always got laughs. At least some.

It didn’t take long after my son was born to realize that something wasn’t quite right with him. He was extremely delayed and obviously autistic. I blew it off and didn’t believe it, making excuses as to why he was so behind.

We had to enroll him in a special school at age 2. The bitterness grew.

One day I decided to buy an iPad. Just because.

I took it home, unboxed it, and sat on my floor to play with it. But instead of playing games, I started writing.

I literally started writing a novel out of nowhere. It was a hoot. I started carrying a little notebook around work, thinking of plot points. It was great, because when you carry a notebook and pen around while working, people assume you’re working really hard!

Before I knew it, I had a book. I didn’t know what the hell to do with it, but I had one.

I found out you can self-publish books on Amazon, so that’s exactly what I did. I gave it a once or twice over, figured out how to format it, and it was published. And wow, did it have a lot of typos. The story was good, though. Some people bought it and it actually got good reviews. Some friends even bought it, though I doubt many of them read it. But still, it felt good. So I started the second book and finished it in record time. This one was even funnier and I liked it a lot, although, once again, I skimped on the editing.

Shortly before the release of that book, I had a falling out with most of my friends. I had planned a big party in Las Vegas, everyone was going to attend, but it was just a disaster. We had a suite at the Aria, but none of my friends even stayed in the hotel. Not a problem, but they stayed way down the strip at Paris. Then got so drunk at the pool, not a single person showed up. So yeah, I was pissed. And the party wasn’t just for fun, it was a special occasion for my wife. And every one of them let me down. So that’s that. We left first thing in the morning, leaving them all in the dust.

Nothing was really the same after that.

All of this is just specific backstory that doesn’t pertain to you, but the basic elements could. The moral of the story remains the same.

Cut to ten years after I first sat down to write that novel. I now have 11 books, including the first ever murder mystery series for kids, which even, somehow, became the runner up for some award I already forgot the name of. Three of my books have been produced into audiobooks and two have advanced to the semi finals in an Amazon-sponsored fiction contest where out of 10,000, 400 advanced. I’ve gotten positive reviews from Kirkus, and a few other publications.

These are facts that I am proud of. I share these from time to time on social media, although I am still not comfortable with talking about myself.

But, now my friends don’t buy my books. Maybe one or two, not even my “Facebook friends” who were on board at the beginning. The last book published is my favorite. I’m so happy with it and proud of it. I literally tried to give away copies to people I know. I didn’t have a single taker.

I would promote the book being free on Kindle during a particular day or weekend, or whatever, and not a single person would respond to it. I tried to give away Audible audiobooks. Not a single taker.

It’s so bizarre.

Why?

I could understand if the books were garbage. There are a lot of genuinely bad books out there, especially since self publishing has gotten so popular and easy to do. But my books aren’t those books.

I started a small publishing services company, just as a side job to help people out. People who were lost like me when I first started.

My friends didn’t care.

Granted, it’s not very exciting, and with the emergence of “multi-level marketing,” starting a business isn’t that impressive, apparently. (Remind me to tell you about this amazing magical wrap thing! Kidding.)

One thing I forgot to mention earlier, is that I went without Facebook for about a year and a half. I hated it. I hated the fakeness of it. And I was bitter. Bitter that I was trying to better my life, to branch out from a dead end job and try to make something of myself, and I never got any good feedback from it.

My son is severely autistic, he’s ten now and still completely non-verbal. We don’t have a typical life. We have to adapt to whatever life throws at us, and that’s what I was trying to do. My son hated when I had to go to work. He didn’t understand why I had to leave, often in the middle of the night. So I tried to change things.

And still I got nothing. So, bye bye Facebook. Good riddance.

It was weird at first. I still had this urge to let everyone know what I was doing. Like, them knowing would someone validate me doing it. If your Facebook friends don’t know what you do, are you really even doing it?

While I’m typing this, my Facebook is back. But there is a reason. Over the summer, while I was doodling on my iPad, I had an idea. I could put these things on tshirts. I would totally wear them.

So I looked it into. I saw that the possibilities were seemingly endless. Why stop at tshirts when you can make leggings? Why stop at leggings when you can make backpacks?

It goes on like this.

So I went all in. And I mean, ALL IN!

I had quit my job at the supermarket a few months prior. I had enough money to survive for a while while I explored new paths. So I sunk everything into this little venture. I was going to make horror related clothes. The horror market is severely underused. There are, of course, some major players in the horror game, but they all had to start at the bottom, too. So I went for it. I made a website. I made an Instagram and a Facebook. And after a week of the site being up, I made a sale. And then another sale.

Turning a profit is tricky, though. I needed word of mouth. I needed friends.

So I got back on my personal Facebook page after a year and a half, and let everyone know what I had been up to while I was gone.

It landed with a thud.

Nobody cared.

In the time I was gone I had a kid’s book, and novel, and this clothing company all launch.

I got nothing.

I started booking comic cons and would post pictures.

Nothing.

I have a little booth downtown, with all my stuff displayed, where you can walk in, buy something, and help support me and my family, by buying small, staying local.

I’ve had one friend visit it.

One.

It’s been there for six months.

I posted a few pictures of horror-celebrities wearing or showing off something I created.

Nothing.

I drew posters for a few events, movie screenings, even a stage play. I posted them. The most recent one I posted got 6 likes.

I have 590 Facebook friends and 6 of them liked a poster I did for a Scream 2 screening.

I have a family member whose daughter wanted “something Michael Myers” for Christmas. I have tons of Myers stuff. Stuff I poured my heart and soul into. Stuff you can’t find anywhere else.

This person did not buy from me. She bought a generic Myers t-shirt from a major store and probably spent more than she would have with me.

Right now, through luck and hopefully hard work, my work is in the processing of being officially licensed. Which means, with a little more work and a whole lot more hustle, it could end up in stores like Hot Topic, etc.

And then what?

I don’t know. I like to daydream. And I would like someone to be proud of it, someone who doesn’t live with me.

But, there comes a time when you have to let that go. Your friends won’t be proud of you. They will belittle you. They will find something to nitpick about what you’re doing.

And it sucks.

Strangers will support you. Your friends will not.

The sooner you know this, the better. You can delete your personal Facebook, you can shrug your shoulders at all the people holding you back and making you feel bad about leaving your comfort zone and taking a risk.

There is no law that you must remain friends with the people you were once friends with. Cut em loose.

This is about you. It’s about your dreams. Your life. Not theirs.

If they don’t want to follow you on your journey or cheer you on, cut them loose. Release that anchor from around your neck and push full-speed ahead.

You’ll be amazed at what you can accomplish when you stop worrying about what so-called friends think and start realizing that no matter what you do, there will be someone who admires you and looks up to you, just as you’ve looked up to someone else when you started your self-fulfilling journey.

Be the person you would want to look up to.

You can do it.

Start today.

Two months ago I had to attend a wedding where all of these people would be, all these “friends.”

All I heard were complaints. Whoever we struck up a conversation with, complained.

Complain complain complain.

I understood what was wrong.

We didn’t complain. My wife and I, we only told positive stories.

Our complaining days are over. We’ve moved on. We seemed out the positives from our lives and choose to focus on that.

All this did was draw out more complaining from the wedding guests.

So tone deaf and these people we’ve left behind, they were complaining about students (the teachers we knew) that are very similar to our son.

Like, really?! This is our life. You go home at 3. We live with this. And we still don’t complain.

So far back these people are, I had to hear outdated and cringeworthy jokes, I had to hear casual sexual harassment, breasts referred to as fun bags, in front of the girl they were talking to, and the groom’s nieces. They still use the R word to describe anything, despite knowing my son is extreme special needs.

Once you realize that you don’t want to live in the world these people still inhabit, the sooner you can progress to where you want to be.

You’ll never be happier leaving them, and their outdated thinking, and their complaints, and everything else that makes you miserable to hear about, behind.

And you can do it.

You can do it right now!

Log out of Facebook and get to work.

Find people to look up to and follow them. Do your own thing. People will begin to follow you.

I’m not saying it will be easy. I’m just giving you a heads up of what’s to come.

You can sidestep it completely.

You just need to realize that your friends want you to fail.

Prove them wrong.

Don’t even tell them.

Start now.

Go.

[lastoneout]

so, quick question... how did you know you had adhd? i've been relating a lot to the stuff you've been reblogging about it, and i honestly can't tell if that's coincidental or if i should look into it more... but like, i'm an adult and female so like, i hesitate to say i might have it. could i hear some of your thoughts?

Yeah of course!

So first of all, its a very common misconception that ADHD is just a thing that little boys get and then grow out of. It affects all kinds of people, and female/afab adults are hardly ever actually diagnosed because their symptoms present very differently due to societal treatment and other factors. 

ADHD is divided into three types, the Inattentive Type, the Hyperactive-Impulsive Type, and Combination. Women and afab people are more likely to have the ‘inattentive type’ of ADHD, which means stuff like:

Loosing track of time

Forgetfulness

Being very easily bored

Zoning out even in the middle of something important

Having trouble following directions

Hyper-focusing on things you find interesting to the point of not doing anything else

Jump from task to task without ever finishing one

Finding it almost impossible to focus on things that you find ‘boring’

Missing important details and making seemingly obvious mistakes

Executive dysfunction(Not being able to start or complete tasks for seeming no reason even when you really want/need to)

Having a hard time organizing and keeping things clean

Just stuff that would get you pegged by others as a daydreamer or ditsy. Most people do display both kinds of symptoms, it’s just about which ones are more prevalent. So you might also do things like:

Constantly fidget with pens, clothing, basically anything you can get your hands on, bounce/jiggle your legs, or even do self-destructive fidgets like picking at your face or chewing on your nails. Essentially you constantly need to be doing something, sitting still is hard or impossible

Have extremely poor impulse control, interrupt people or finish their sentences, just do things without thinking

Have no patience, and get very annoyed or upset when things take too long

Talk a lot

Need at least two sources of stimulation, such as watching Netflix up also being on your phone, or not being able to concentrate on something like reading or chores without music in the background

I don’t know which I am, but I do display a lot more of the inattentive symptoms than the hyperactive ones, as do most adult women and afab people.

Looking back now it seems kinda obvious that I had it as a kid, I was always drawing in class or fidgeting. I found it easier to focus when there was music playing since the quiet was too distracting. I always forgot stuff even if I made a note so I would write important things all over my arms because then I couldn’t forget. I had fantastic in class participation but could never bring myself to do my homework even when I wanted to or it was easy. Coffee and other things high in caffeine would make me tired and calm instead of hyper. I would hyper-fixate on whatever book I was reading to the point of completely ignoring everything around me and would get unreasonably upset when people would interrupt me. 

And while I don’t have to worry about school work anymore since I’m 23 when I started living alone I began noticing other issues I had, and the more I read about ADHD and people with it I began to suspect that I had it, since I displayed so many of the symptoms, especially the ones more common in adult women and those afab.

I noticed how coffee still didn’t really wake me up, just kinda centered everything, and found out that stimulants work differently on the brains of people with ADHD, usually having the opposite affect, and that most adults with diagnosed ADHD self-medicate with coffee. I realized that even today I had a lot of trouble focusing on stuff I found ‘boring’, and would constantly miss tiny details or completely forget to do really, really important things even though I knew they were important like pay rent or call a repairman. I would hyper-fixate on drawing or video games and not get up to eat or use the restroom for like 5-6 hours. Being bored was excruciating. I had severe executive dysfunction, and it could take me hours to just get out of bed and take a shower and eat. 

I also have what is called Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which is common in almost all people who have ADHD. Essentially, it causes you to be hyper-sensitive to any kind of rejection, to the point of a full nervous breakdown. For me, the best example is once my boss needed to talk to me because I had done something wrong, and while he was right that I had messed up, I ended up spending the next hour crying nonstop and had to go home. When people say I did something wrong or make fun of me or even just point out a small mistake I made it can ruin my mood for days and cause me to fall into depressive episodes or cry or start thinking about how worthless I am. The worst part of RSD is that most people who suffer from it develop a fear of trying anything new becuase what if they mess up. They also tend to turn into people-pleasers because if even one person around them is upset they view it as their fault and fall into that cycle. Something like that is a big red flag for ADHD. 

I also read how that un-diagnosed ADHD in adult women/afab people can lead to depression and anxiety because they constantly perceive themselves as failing at simple things that other people find so easy, and end up never getting treatment because it doesn’t even occur to them that they could have ADHD. 

As for how I got diagnosed, I had recently started getting help for my depression and anxiety and so I asked my doctor about it and she had me explain everything and answer questions and she eventually agreed that I did have it and gave me adderall to help. It still isn’t perfect, the meds do a lot of good but sometimes they are too much and I end up jittery and start disassociating because the balance of sugar/caffeine/stimulants can get too much especially if you have anxiety, and you may have to try different dosages and types of meds before you find the ones that really work. And meds aren’t the be-all-end-all of treatment. You still need to find ways to manage and work with your symptoms, just like with any other mental problem. 

So, this got really long but essentially if you think you might have ADHD you should look into it and try talking to a doctor. For me, finding out I had it and getting help was so liberating. I almost cried because I finally knew that I wasn’t just stupid or broken or useless, I just had a disorder and there was something I could do to get better.

If you want to read more about all this you should check out ADDitude Magazine  because they have tons of free articles and resources for learning about ADHD and ADD written by and for people with those disorders. and its a really good place to go for info. 

I hope this helped. Sorry it got so long T_T