#but they seem to have forgotten they can also y'know. WRITE to me.

[bri-does-art]

.

[pearlymel]

Closer

Pairings: Veritas Ratio x fem!reader

Synopsis: kissing your boyfriend for the first time turned to a makeout session. (Suggestive towards the end)

Wc: 1.5k

⊰⊹ฺnotes: idk what possessed me to write this but i think abt kissing ratio stupid atleast 69 times a day.

Amidst the hushed comfortable space and flickering candles in the living room, Veritas Ratio rests serenely on the sofa with his legs crossed as he holds a book he occupies himself with, reading it silently and carefully, focusing on each word with absolute preoccupation before he feels the empty space next to him sink with a familiar figure.

He hums in acknowledgement at your presence, although his eyes still not prying away from the book.

But then Veritas feels like his brain went short circuit for a brief second when he felt you leaning ever so closely to him on the couch. Your hands drawing closer and closer until your fingers slowly start intertwining with his, and he accepts it. Naturally. It's just holding hands with his partner.

But then you move closer to him, thighs already making contact, and how he is certain you want something from him. So he diverts his eyes away from the book, giving you a quick glance of his eyebrow raised and you just smile innocently in return. He blinks twice before returning back to the book.

Maybe you just wanted his attention as usual, perhaps tell him about your day or--Oh, but then your other unoccupied hand takes his chin with your thumb and index, turning his head back towards your attention.

He's surprised, looking at you with his eyebrows furrowing and before he could ask, you beat him to it.

"Y'know we've been dating for quite a while. Right, Veritas?" You mutter his name oh so softly that when it reaches his ears, his heart begins beating a tad bit faster than usual.

You start caressing his cheek, your thumb brushing over the apples of his cheek before sliding it down to his lower lip while you study his tensed expression that slowly starts relaxing.

Ratio's eyes flutter shut as you caress his cheek, his mouth trembles underneath the gentle, languid touch of your fingers against his lips, betraying a subtle shiver of desire he can scarcely suppress.

Finally opening his eyes to meet yours, a touch of vulnerability is faintly detectable in his gaze, a display of uncertainty that he hurriedly conceals behind a half-lidded gaze.

"Yes..." Ratio responds quietly. "...We have."

"And you know how much i like you," you carry on, eyes no longer focused on his gaze but instead watching at the way his lips part slightly.

Ratio's gaze darkens as you fixate on his lips, his breath hitching slightly in response.

"I am aware," he murmured quietly, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly as he attempted to maintain his composed façade.

You can't find anything more to say because you are so focused on the shape of his lips, studying every breath he takes that only makes your lips curl.

Your eyes find his again, leaning in further, your keen eyes searching for his consent.

Ratio's usual self-assuredness returns, a sly flicker in his eyes as he gives a slight nod, consenting to your silent question.

You tilt your head, eyes focusing on his lips before closing them when your lips press together for the first time, testing the waters of the kiss, trying to hesitantly feel your lips together.

There is a flicker of surprise in his eyes, his composure momentarily faltering as he leans into the kiss. Ratio's lips mold against yours, hesitant and testing at first, a slow and languid movement as he explores the feeling of your lips on his.

You squeeze his hand nervously that was still interlaced with yours. After all, it was you who tried initiating the kiss on a random evening.

A soft exhale escapes his lips against yours, the book long forgotten as it drops from his hand and to the ground with a thid thay both of you don't seem to care about. His now free hand moves to cup your jaw with gentleness, yet the touch also firm.

You feel encouraged at the touch, it makes your shoulders relax, allowing yourself to melt into this first shared kiss.

He senses the change in your body, the tension leaving your frame and being replaced by a gentle surrender. Emboldened by this, he deepens the kiss, his hand on your jaw moving up to hold the back of your neck, firm yet gentle. Guiding you even closer to him.

You were caught off guard by the sudden eagerness. Your blood was quick to rush through your face, reaching to your ears before both of your part with a deep breath.

You give him slightly wide eyes, his half-lidded eyes dropping back to your lips. And just when you thought the kiss has ended, he brings his hand back to your jaw, his thumb now imitating your previous actions, brushing against your lips before parting them gently.

You pray that he doesn't notice just how red your cheeks have gotten.

Veritas was quick to take advantage of your parted lips, his tongue delving into your mouth with deliberate intent, his hand slithering it's way back to the back of your neck.

The air around you thickens with a charge of electricity, his breathing becoming more ragged as the kiss heats up, a low, guttural sound emanates from deep in his throat, his fingers curling into your hair, their grip firm though not painful. Veritas's usual composure is discarded, replaced by a passionate fervour to which you welcomed, arms wrapping around his shoulders for further closeness between them.

He responds to your action with a low groan, his hand that was holding yours now snaking around your waist, the kiss deepens further, his tongue sliding against yours in a sensual dance, his body practically trembling with raw and unbridled hunger. His lips moving more urgently against yours to which a soft gasp escapes from you when he confidently pulls you to straddle his lap, your lips pulling away from his with flushed cheeks.

"I didn't mean--we can go slow--" you stammer, but you are met with eyes dark, full of desire as he gently maneuvers you into his lap, a shiver of excitement coursing through him at your proximity. He tightens his grip on your waist, holding you firmly in place, his muscles taut with tension as he fights to restrain himself.

"How come we've never kissed before? Is it that you're perhaps nervous because of me?" You manage to tease. Chuckling quietly as you looked down at him, admiring the way he was panting softly. His cheeks flush slightly, embarrassed that his earlier vulnerability is now made known.

"I was not nervous," your beloved protests, though the slight shakiness in his voice betrays him, though your hands now caresse his cheeks before leaning in to pepper soft pecks on his face.

"I was just... careful. I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"Would you like to kiss me again?"

He snaps his eyes back at yours in response, his eyes darkening with a primal want as he gazes up at you.

"I would be an idiot to say no," he replies, his voice low and tinged with hunger. "I want to kiss you more. I want to kiss you until you can hardly breathe. I want the feel of you, the taste of you. I want you." His fingers grip your thighs, their grip tight as he struggles to restrain himself, while your breath is caught in your throat when you sense that hunger in the tone of his voice. One unfamiliar but you can get used to.

You instantly crash your lips eagerly against his this time, and he responds to the kiss with a ferocity that borders on desperation, his lips moving against yours with a frenzied and unrestrained desire as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip in a silent command for more.

And you respond by slowly grinding your hips further into his lap, a guttural groan rumbling in his chest at the slow grind, and it was enough for him to break the kiss momentarily, gasping for breath as he looks up at you with dark and dilated pupils.

"Do you have any idea," Ratio grits out between clenched teeth, his voice deep and strained, "what you're doing to me right now?"

Before you could even get the chance to answer, his lips find the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth grazing the soft skin and sucking on the flesh there as he attempts to regain his composure. A soft moan emits from your throat as your hips find a slow pace of grinding against his clothed cock that you could've sworn you felt it throb and twitch under the fabrics of his pants before he firmly and tightly grasped your hips to halt your any other sorts of movements.

"Don't start something you can't finish." He gives you a sharp look and your lips curl upwards in return.

"Who said i wanted to stop, doctor?"

(doctor, you're huge-!)

[moonsprcngs]

I love love love your writting. can you do an enemies to lovers Sirius Black one shot? idk like make it hella dramatic, like fighting in the rain n then they kiss, or like a truth or dare n they have to kiss or sum. again love u sm have a good day stay healthy

hi my lovely, thank you so so much for the compliment & the request! i'm so flattered that u love my writing. i love YOU and i hope this did ur idea justice! <3 i also decided to make the reader a hufflepuff in this cause i thought it'd be a cute lil asset, hope u don't mind!

sirius black x fem!hufflepuff!reader <3

One thing about you is that you could not stand Sirius Black.

Everybody seemed to love him. Not just the students, but teachers too; even Professor McGonagall couldn't hide her smirk behind her hand when she often gave him a good scolding.

Really, the only one of the four marauders you could stand was Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew was okay, though he was far too much of a tag-a-long for your liking, and James Potter was practically Sirius' right hand man. Remus was your Potions partner and he was, admittedly, as much of a sweetheart as a marauder could get, often helping you study and walking you back to your common room when he caught you asleep in the library during his prefect rounds (which only happened once... or maybe twice).

"They're not so bad," he promised you one Potions class, watching for your reaction with a sheepish grin as Sirius and James messed with Snape's potion at the back of the room. "They're actually really nice once you, y'know, get to know them."

"Nice?" you questioned him, scoffing out a laugh and grimacing at the sound of Sirius' laughter bellowing through the classroom. "Need I remind you what Sirius did to me in third year?"

"I know, I know! But he's changed, Y/N, honestly! He's more... mature?"

Even Remus couldn't quite believe the words that had just left his mouth as you both watched the boy in question actually spit into Severus' cauldron. "Oh yeah, Rem, so mature."

One thing about Sirius Black is that he could not stand you.

He'd always believed what he did to you in your third year was harmless, something that would be forgotten within a month or two and not to be dwelled on. He knew you harboured a secret little crush on him at the time, so he figured... why not?

He really did mean it when he asked you out, though. Sure, he didn't know you too well; you were really just another Hufflepuff that he shared some classes with. But Remus seemed to like you, so he figured it could at least be a good way to make a new friend if nothing else.

"Hey."

You looked up from your book on Herbology at the rude interruption, and of all the people you were expecting to be standing before you, you were surprised at the sight of Sirius Black. You cleared your throat awkwardly, willing the immediate blush to disappear from your cheeks. "Hi?"

It came out as more of a question than you intended it to, but he grinned at you nonetheless and your face felt warm, was it warm in there?

You did a quick scan of the library in search of any of his smug little friends, but you saw no one. Just him.

He didn't wait for an invitation before pulling out the chair beside you and sitting down, still grinning ear to ear. "You free Saturday?"

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows in surprise, your yellow tie suddenly feeling far too restrictive around your neck as you somehow managed to splutter out a "yes". Sirius pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back (pink and white roses) and offered them to you with the same lopsided grin. "Meet me at the Three Broomsticks? Two o'clock?"

The only problem was... James had gotten into his head.

That same afternoon, Sirius entered his dorm with an air of confidence, not dissimilar to usual, but he had a different sort of spring in his step.

Remus and James were sat on their respective beds. The former looked up at him over his book and raised a single eyebrow, clearly noticing something different about his entrance, though James didn't look up from the Quidditch magazine he was reading and paid no mind.

"Afternoon, boys," he announced, his voice dripping with glee as he crashed down onto his bed.

"Afternoon, Pads," Remus responded, a curious tone to his voice as he kept his eyebrow raised. "What's gotten into you today?"

"Scored a date," he said, far too matter-of-factly for the grin he was still sporting. "With Y/N."

Remus' book fell shut on the ground with a thud, jaw dropped open and lost for words as James finally cocked an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"Y/N L/N. Y'know, the Hufflepuff girl in our Potions class?"

"And Herbology, and Charms," Remus finally composed himself, now staring at Sirius with a pointed look, well aware of his friend's... reputation. "Look, Pads. I know she likes you, but you have to be careful about this. Y/N is my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt her."

James suddenly barked out a laugh, finally dropping his magazine as he engaged in the conversation. "Be careful? There's nothing to be careful about, Moony. As if Sirius is actually going to go on a date with a Hufflepuff. Don't embarrass yourself like that, Padfoot."

"Don't be such a dick, Prongs," Remus spat, tossing a cushion at his mate and hitting him square in the head. "She's my friend."

Sirius said nothing.

So the next Saturday rolled around and you arrived at the Three Broomsticks at five minutes to two. Though, five minutes to two became two o'clock, which became two thirty, which became three, which soon became four.

And Sirius never showed.

The next day at breakfast, you'd found him, slapped him across the face, threw the bouquet of pink and white roses back at him and left without a word.

Sirius Black did not like to be publicly humiliated. He decided there and then that he wanted nothing else to do with you.

It wasn't until your sixth year rolled around that Remus realised things were changing.

Gryffindor had just won their first match of the season against Slytherin and, as usual, there was a huge party in their common room.

You weren't much of a partier, usually preferring to stay in the comfort of your dorm with a book that you and Remus were bound to discuss within the next few days. Of course, you'd attend the parties when Hufflepuff won, but you were never one to join in with the other houses.

Although he knew this, Remus Lupin had a plan.

He was beginning to grow sick of the constant complaining on both sides of his friends. It was always "Come on, Moony, she's so bloody weird" or "Look at him, Remus, how on earth can you stand to be friends with him?" and, quite frankly, he'd had enough.

He loved the marauders, of course; they were his best friends, his brothers. But he also loved you, and though he knew that Sirius' young and dumb actions in third year hurt you, he really wasn't lying when he said he'd changed.

Yes, Sirius would call you weird or strange or annoying to his friends, but Remus knew he was deflecting. He saw the way something in his eyes changed when he watched you enter Platform 9 3/4 on the first day of your fifth year. He saw the way he'd been secretly pining over you for the last year.

Likewise, he knew the same went for you too. No matter how badly he hurt you, your feelings for Sirius never really left. He saw the way your gaze lingered on his friend for just a little bit too long. He knew the way you shook your head and muttered "what a dick" under your breath every time you looked away was a cover up.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing by the time Remus convinced you to join him. It had taken a lot of begging and a fair few promises to buy you more books before you agreed, and you found yourself awkwardly at Remus' side as you entered through the portrait hole.

It wasn't long until James had found his friend and immediately tugged him away. Remus tried to fight it but found him impossible, shooting you an apologetic smile before you lost sight of him. You made a mental note to demand another promise of more books when you found him again.

You accepted defeat and made your way over to the drinks table, in need of at least something before you inevitably called it a night early and headed back to the comfort of your own common room.

Smoothing the fabric of your dress down, you suddenly felt very out of place in the yellow and white floral fabric, but an unfortunately familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts before you got too caught up in them.

"L/N?"

You immediately snapped your head up and fought the urge to roll your eyes at the source of the voice. "Black."

Sirius seemed surprised at your presence, his eyebrows raised and an interesting sort of smirk gracing his features as he looked down at you. "And what exactly are you doing here?"

"Remus invited me," you kept your answers short, trying to slow your rapidly beating heart as you reached for the firewhiskey and flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Is that a crime?"

"No." His smirk only grew, seemingly amused at your snap back as he kept his eyes on you. "Not a crime at all, love."

He knew what he was doing. How dare he try and flirt with you now after what he did before.

"Don't call me that," your response came immediately and you felt yourself trying to fight the shiver that was so desperate to creep down your spine. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to enjoy and somebody to stay far away from."

That was an hour ago now, and since then you had already downed way too many cups of firewhiskey for your body to handle. You were so set on trying to avoid Sirius that you tried to make yourself forget he was even there at all.

An hour became two and Sirius ended up finding you back at the drinks table again, barely even holding yourself up as you tried to pour yourself a cup of whatever alcohol was nearest to you. Sirius, though definitely not sober, was painfully so compared to you, and he watched in slight amusement as you managed to get more of the liquid on your dress than in the cup.

"You alright over there?" His voice snapped you out of your pitiful concentration and in turn made you jump, even more of the liquid spilling down you when you did.

"Hello, Sirius," you responded, turning to look at him with a big smile and almost stumbling into his chest, causing him to wrap his arms around you as he caught you.

In your clouded state of mind, you couldn't for the life of you remember that you're supposed to hate this guy, and instead only found memories of the longing gazes when you racked your mind. You'd regret this tomorrow; you most certainly could not handle your drink.

"Hello, Y/N," Sirius raised his eyebrows at your state as he answered you, still amused as he copied your tone of voice. "You look like you've had enough."

You gasped as if he had just suggested you were You-Know-Who himself. "I have not!"

Despite your best efforts, your words came out slurred and Sirius knew Remus would not be happy that you're left out here alone in this state. He cast a quick glance around the common room but couldn't find a single glimpse of his mate in the crowd, and he let out a quiet curse under his breath.

I'm supposed to hate her, he thought to himself, letting his eyes fall back on your smiling face. She embarrassed you Sirius, shoved a bouquet of bloody roses at you in front of the entire Great Hall to see. But why did she have to grow up and be so bloody pretty?

"Let's get you back to your common room, yeah?" He suggested, gently taking the cup from you and placing it back down on the table.

He admittedly felt bad for you. Remus was nowhere to be found and he couldn't just let you get all the way back to the Hufflepuff common room by yourself in this state. You're just being a decent guy, Sirius, he told himself again. You'd do this for anyone.

You either didn't seem to hear him or his words didn't register in your brain, because when he placed a hand on the small of your back to carefully lead you through the crowd and back through the portrait hole, you only spoke with a grin.

"Are we going on a walk?"

"Yeah, love. We're going on a walk." Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction, but deep down he felt a little tense. With the state you were in, anyone could've taken advantage of you, and he was glad he found you before anyone else did. Maybe it was the little bit of firewhiskey still running through his veins, but Merlin, Black, the fuck is wrong with you tonight?

The walk back to the Hufflepuff common room was slow and quiet, and Sirius ended up wrapping an arm around your shoulders and taking most of your weight against him to stop your constant stumbling.

Once you'd reached the portrait, you muttered the password and allowed Sirius to half-carry you through, still not completely aware of what was going on, and the pair of you only stopped when you reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

He'd never been in this part of the castle before, and he couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips when he noticed it smelt like a lovely mixture of flowers and freshly baked cookies.

You turned to face him once you reached the stairs and something suddenly clicked in your drunken mind.

"Sirius? Is that you?!"

He chuckled quietly again and nodded his head, raising his eyebrows with an amusement smile. "Yeah, it's me. You're back in your common room now, yeah?"

You took a moment to process his words through the thick fog clouding your brain and nodded your head, still smiling too before looking down at your dress. Your smile fell into a sad frown. "Oh no, it's ruined! It was so pretty!"

The boy in front of you took notice at the alcohol stains on your dress and shrugged his shoulders. "It's still pretty. I mean, you look pretty. I mean-"

If you did notice him stumbling over his words and the blush that rose to his warm cheeks, you didn't show it (though Sirius doubted very much that you did notice in your state). You simply smiled again, turning away from Sirius without another word as you all but skipped up the stairs.

It wasn't until he neared the portrait hall to leave again that he heard your quiet little drunken giggle. "Sirius Black thinks I'm pretty."

That was months ago now and you and Sirius hadn't even uttered a word to each other about that night.

Actually, if it was possible, you started avoiding each other more.

You were finally starting to admit to yourself that you had feelings for Sirius Black, but that scared you. How could you fall for him again after he stood you up in your third year? He left you there for two hours, your single butterbeer looking pathetic in front of you as Madame Rosmerta shot you sympathetic smiles from behind the counter every now and again.

You hadn't been in there since.

Little did you know, Sirius was avoiding you for exactly the same reason.

Okay, perhaps he was a little embarrassed to admit that he liked you. James was a dick that day three years ago and, although Sirius knew the both of them had matured since then, he couldn't help but worry his best friend just wouldn't approve. He knew deep down that James, especially now older, would just want him to be happy, but he was scared.

Remus had been so angry with him when he stood you up that he was also scared to face him again. Would he even believe him or force him to stay away from you for your own wellbeing?

The rain was pelting down heavily in early February as you trudged into Professor Slughorn's Potions class. The castle at this time of year was sickening, with pink and red paper hearts hovering over your heads in the hallways and fluttering around the tables in the Great Hall as Valentine's Day drew closer.

Even your professors had taken on the Valentine's theme, and you couldn't help but groan as you gathered around Slughorn's desk with the other Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

"Amortentia," the professor announced, and a group of Gryffindors standing behind you giggled to themselves. "The most powerful love potion in the world. If brewed correctly, the scent will be different to everyone according to what attracts them."

James Potter scoffed on the other side of the crowd and whispered something in Sirius' ear. The latter laughed loudly, pulling the attention of everyone in the room.

"Mr Black?" Slughorn spoke through the boy's laughter, keeping his calm demeanour. "Perhaps, since you find this so amusing, you'd like to demonstrate for us?"

"Don't mind if I do, sir," Sirius just laughed again and made his way through the group, going to stand by the professor with a cocky smirk. "I bet it's just a load of old bollocks anyway."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out, Mr Black. Tell us what you smell, won't you?"

You watched as Sirius leant over the cauldron and you took a moment to take in his appearance. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned a quarter of the way, his red and gold tie hanging loosely around his neck, and though you willed it not to, your heart couldn't help but flutter slightly.

At that moment, you realised that, if Slughorn was right, Sirius was about to reveal the scent of the one he loved.

"Smells like..." his voice pulled you from your thoughts as he took in the scent of the potion, "vanilla, fresh cookies, and..."

He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly flicked up to meet yours, an unreadable expression on his face as he muttered quietly.

"And, uh, roses."

Whether it was the intensity of Sirius' gaze or the fact that everybody had turn round to look at you that made you storm out of the Potions classroom, you couldn't be sure.

Not even the heaviness of the rain could stop you as you tried to get as far away from the castle as possible. What the fuck just happened?

"Y/N?"

You shook your head, refusing to turn around as you continued walking. "Leave me alone, Sirius."

"Y/N, please-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Merlin's beard, L/N, would you stop and listen to me for one bloody second!"

He'd caught up to you now, throwing himself in front of you to stop you on your course. You'd almost crashed into his chest, and Sirius suddenly remembered how you'd done the same thing at that party four months ago.

"Sirius, please-" you begged quietly, trying to push past him.

You didn't get very far as he gently grabbed your elbow and brought you back in front of him. "No, Y/N, we're going to talk. For the first time, we're going to bloody talk."

"About what, Black? What could you possibly want to talk to me about? You haven't wanted to talk to me for the last three years, why start now?!"

He couldn't help it as his voice raised slightly, and you watched him grab at his dripping wet hair in frustration. "I just openly admitted my feelings for you in front of the entire fuckin' class and you won't even talk to me!"

"Because it's bullshit, Sirius!"

Sirius stopped at this, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head slightly. "What the bloody hell do you mean?"

"This is just another one of your plans to humiliate me, just like you did three years ago. I'm not falling for it this time."

Successfully this time, you pushed past him, shoulders brushing together as you did. He tried to grab your wrist to pull you back but you shook it out of his grip and continued walking away from him again.

"Y/N-"

"No."

"Y/N, come on-"

"I said no, Sirius."

"Y/N, I fucking love you!"

His words halted you in place. Neither of you spoke for a moment, and the only sounds you could hear was the violent pattering of the rain and his heavy breathing.

You shook your head slowly, not even turning around to face him. "You can't. You can't do this shit to me, Sirius."

"Why not? It's true!"

His words dripped with exasperation. He seemed desperate now, his body moving back in front of you again and Godric, were those just raindrops on your face or had you been crying too?

"Sirius, I can't- I can't let myself be hurt by you again," your voice cracked slightly as you refused to look at him, feeling your throat clog pathetically. "I liked you. I really bloody liked you and when you stood me up I was so humiliated."

Something in his face softened at your words, and his voice grew quieter. "Y/N, I didn't know-"

"I haven't been on a single date since, Sirius. I can't let anyone even attempt to get close to me like that because every time they do I think they're just gonna stand me up anyway, because that's what Sirius Black did. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to fall in love with you when-"

But suddenly all words were forgotten as his lips were on yours.

Sirius' hands were now on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He tasted faintly of cigarettes and some chocolate that was no doubt stolen from Remus, and it took a moment to process what was happening. But you kissed him back.

Godric, did you kiss him back.

It was a few moments later when you pulled away, his forehead finding place against yours. Neither of you spoke for a moment and your eyes took their time to flutter open, only to find him already looking at you.

"You love me, you said it yourself. Give me a chance," his voice came as a whisper, his breath fanning against your mouth as his eyes searched your features desperately.

You nodded your head breathlessly, your hands sliding up around his shoulders as you gave him a pathetically pointed look. "You pull that third year shit ever again and you're dead."

"I swear. Merlin, I swear."

You laughed quietly and Sirius broke out into a wide smile. The silence that took over you both was comfortable, the rain providing a settling background noise despite the cold that chilled your bones

"For the record, I would have smelled you too."

[scoutswritingcorner]

I love Rosie and Alastor, Love'em. i was wondering if you could write a Rosie x Alastor x Reader, y'know a throuple that eats and gossips together, stays together. Also, love the horroresque spin you've been doing, can you add a smidge of that?

The Chase

RadioRose x GN!Reader

(Alastor x GN!Reader x Rosie)

TW: Has elements of horror! Alastor being Alastor and chasing Reader around the place. Talks about cannibalism, anxiety and paranoia that comes with being chased. 

A/N: IT BECOMES WHOLESOME I SWEAR! Also a big thank you to my lovely @kurosstuff for helping me get this idea going!! Also Alastor's dialog will be in bold.

Your day had started like any other day, wake up, get ready and go do what you needed to do for the day. But something felt off about the whole day like you were forgetting something in the back of your mind. Either way you continued on with your day trying to remember what you had forgotten ignoring how the hair on the back of your neck started to stand. 

Something was wrong. 

After some time you went around looking for Alastor, he promised he’d come along with you to see Rosie. You grumbled as you walked into the foyer, “Husk? Have you seen Alastor anywhere?” You asked, watching as Husk shook his head and continued to clean a glass, then it hit you as you watched a familiar shadow disappear out of sight. He was upset but about what? You quickly tried to follow the sneaky shadow but failed as it disappear down the ominous dark hallway. As you walked down the hallway, which seemed to go on forever, it dawned on you that the figure at the end of the hallway was none other than the man you had come to love and cherish. But it felt wrong- no no he felt wrong. His smile was way too wide and his eyes were unmoving as he stared at you. 

You needed to run.

Turning on your heel, you sprinted down the hallway passing by Husk and Angel at the bar and reaching the front doors of the hotel. His footsteps where getting closer, why did he walk so fucking fast? You took a glance back over your shoulder seeing he had already made it to the end of the hallway as you swung the door open and ran out of the hotel. You had no idea where to go so you just kept running, dodging cars and random demons on the street as you duck and weave through the nastiest allies you could find. Looking back over your shoulder every once in a while to only see him still calmly chasing you. 

You looked back in front of you narrowly dodging a demon who stepped in front of you, which made you fall to the ground. The demon cursed you out as you scrambled to get up and continued to run despite your legs begging you to stop or slow down. You looked around before diving into a random shop for a moment to check out the damage done as you caught your breath. You carefully rolled up your pants leg to see a bruise forming on your leg as it was bleeding. Fuck you scraped it up badly, your hands shakily grabbed a handful of napkins and cleaned up the blood as best as you could, you’d have to ask Rosie to help clean you up later.

Taking a deep breath you rolled your pants leg back down as you moved to stand up to your full height but stopped feeling your back hit what seemed like a wall. You prayed to Lucifer that it was just some random demon standing way too close for your liking and not him, carefully you reach your hand behind you to feel the fabric of a familiar coat that made your stomach sink and panic rise up in your chest, you turn your head to see his ruby red eyes staring back into your with a hint of softness in them. Slowly backing away from him watching as his eyes followed every step towards the other entrance on the side of the shop itself, his neck cracking as he tilted his head. 

He was giving you another head start. 

Without a second thought you took it, rushing out of the door and pushing demons out of your way as you ran further down the street. As he slowly followed behind you, his shadow easily kept up with you guiding you closer towards your ‘haven’. He had led you towards Cannibal Town and towards Rosie. Now, no cannibal would dare harm a single hair on your head unless they had wanted a death wish from him and to be cast out by Rosie herself, that is another slow and painful death all together. You ran past cannibals, who either nodded or smiled at you. You tried your best to do so back, you really did but when you're being chased by your lovely boyfriend it’s quite different.  You quickly ran into Rosie’s boutique, your heart pounding into your chest as you tried to shake off how terrified you were.

Coming to a stop near the counter, you felt fingers grip your chin lifting your head up as your eyes met with Rosie’s her usual grin gone- replaced with a worried smile. “Oh Dear, you look absolutely distraught.” You cooed bringing you closer as you tried to look behind you, Alastor had to be closing in on you now but yet your head stayed still in her grasp. Her thumb pressed against your bottom lip as you finally caught your breath, “Alastor..” You huffed out making her click her tongue before she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

The door chimed making you freeze up as you heard the familiar sound of his humming. Speak of the Devil. He swiftly closed the gap between you and him as he leaned down placing his chin on your shoulder. “Now now, Alastor. What have I talked about chasing them around the city?” Rosie chided him watching as his grin widened, before he had placed a gentle kiss upon your cheek. “I’m sorry, Dear. They just looked so adorable trying to get away from me~” He hummed out watching as you slowly relaxed, “Almost like they were good enough to eat.” His voice was missing the normal radio effect it always had and was replaced with his deep southern drawl that made your skin crawl in the best way possible.

 His teeth grazing against your cheek, reminding you that he could tear you limb to limb if he wanted. Rosie smiled, tilting your head up once more to capture your lips into a soft kiss. “I must agree with you on that~” She growled out against your lips making you softly whimper. “You can’t tell me you don’t love the hunt, Dearest.” He watched as Rosie leaned back to fix your shirt that had been messed up during the rush here, the radio effect returning to his voice as your lips were smeared with her black lipstick.

He snapped his fingers as a chair appeared behind you, “Sit sit, let me see that leg of yours.” He crouched down as you sat in the chair, Rosie quickly rushing off to go find the first aid kit. “It’s not that bad, Al..I’m fine.” At that he only waved his hand at your concern and carefully helped you get your pants leg up. As soon as Rosie got back with the medical supplies, Alastor had swiftly cleaned up the cut on your leg before wrapping it up. You gently cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips, making his ears pop up as he stared wide eyed at you before they flicked happily and his grin grew wider. His tail was surely wagging.

The two most feared Overlords were wrapped around your finger and they wouldn't have it any other way~

[wwaheoh]

"Running Into Them at the Mall", Cunning Hares x gn!Reader, SFW, Fluff

a/n: can you tell i'm even worse at writing happy things?

At the mall, you were perusing through some movie tapes, action, comedy, horror… nothing that you felt was good enough for the Cunning Hares Weekly Movie Night. Usually you’d go to the video store on Sixth Street, Random Play, to find movies, but since you’d heard about them having to make a new account and helping Wise save Belle from the Hollow, you didn’t want to also put pressure on them to get more movies when their main income was basically gone for the time being.

Sifting through the remainder of the ‘New Release’ row, a familiar voice rang out from behind you.

Nicole ///

“Hey! Looking for a movie?” You could hear the smile in her voice. Looking back, Nicole got close, in her usual getup, hair a soft pink, basically pressing against you as she looked at the movie you had been reading the description of. “Ooh~ cheating on Random Play huh?” She spoke with a playful, teasing tone, slyly wrapping her hand around yours to get a better look at the movie you were checking out “No! Just heard about everything and don’t want to impose. I think we've watched everything there ten fold.”

“Mm, and you didn’t want to come with me to the mall?” “You got your nails done, they’d take longer to be finished than it would to check out all the movies in this whole store!” She looks at you with a deadpan expression, “Hey, perfection comes with time (and money).”

After picking out a movie, you rented the tape out for the week, before heading to the food court to grab some food before home. You realize that she had basically gotten you to buy her free lunch for the day before heading back to the base…

Billy ///

“Yo!” An artificial voice of Billy spoke behind you, nearly spooking your soul out of you. For such a loud metal-bodied guy, he was surprisingly quiet. “Whatcha looking for?” He peaked over your shoulder, “Ahh, mm, never thought you’d like this sorta movie? It ain’t Starlight Knights: The Movie but whatever, c’mon! There’s an arcade here, heard they got God•Finger, gotta get my name onto the top of the leaderboard!”

Giggling at his antics you agreed, but you reminded him that you had to pay before leaving. The movie you got wasn’t particularly your kind of movie, more dramatic and less action-y explosion-y type.

He got Number One on the Leaderboard, with you landing at Number Three.

Anby ///

Turns out, Anby was also shopping at the mall, having accidentally taken the shopping list you made- that you’d forgotten at the base.

“Hello.” The usual monotone voice had a happy tone to it, something hard to hear had you not been as close to her as you were. Turning from the movie you’d been reading the description of, you waved with a smile. “Hey Anby! Wanted to try a different spot to find a movie.” She nodded, crouching next to you to read the text on the movie cover you were holding. “This doesn’t seem to be the type of movie you’re usually interested in.”

“Yeah, been just browsing for now… wait. Why are you here? Don’t you pick next week?” “Huh? The shopping list I picked up said I was to find a movie for this week.”

You looked at the bag she held in her hand. You looked at the bag you had resting by your side. You looked at her cute face, soft white hair framing it like a picture.

“That was my shopping list.” You broke the news to her.

“Oh.”

“That was $40.”

“Nicole’s going to blow a lid.”

“Yeah…”

The two of you went through the extensive inventory of movies available in the shop, choosing one the two of you believed Nicole would like. Maybe this would save you two from Nicole’s wrath.

Nekomiya ///

a/n: i didn't forget her this time!

“Ooh? Looking for a movie?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. The sneakiness of a street cat- er, catgirl, was not to be underestimated. “What’re ya thinking?”

“Hey Nekomiya, just browsing. Nothing’s really catching my eye.” “Well, y'know what they say! You can’t think on an empty stomach, meow!” You stared at her with a deadpan expression. “Did you come here all the way just for some free lunch?”

“Aha… no! (Maybe).” You sighed, but understood. Commissions had been low recently, on the account of Nicole- and by extension the whole of the Cunning Hares, working to aid the citizens in the lawsuit against that corrupt construction company. Awful business that.

“Alright, c’mon. I’ll go check out, then let’s get some fish in that belly!” “Hey! Not all of us want fish!” “Then what do you want?” ”Mackerel…” “That’s fish.”

Bringing the video tape to the front, you paid before making your way over to the food court with Nekomiya.

[qqueenofhades]

Your tags on the Dreamling/Good Omens cross over have me frothing at the mouth and I just need you to know that if you were to write that “Crowley stumbles into the New Inn” fic, I would be highly supportive of your life choices

The place isn't otherwise busy. It's edging into the lull period of late afternoon, when the day drinkers have shuffled out and the evening drinkers aren't quite off work, when there are only a few tourists taking snaps for the 'gram and the bartenders are out back for a cigarette break by the bins. Hob is sitting at his usual table, confronted with a pile of papers, a brewing catastrophe about the autumn schedule that for some reason he is expected to sort out, three passive-aggressive emails from Philippa about the prospect of him becoming Head of School next year (not on your fucking immortal life, mate) and other mundane academic crises, when the door flies open and a bloke at the end of his rope staggers in.

Thing is, Hob knows this particular bloke, at least by casual sight. He's been in from time to time, has a drink, stares at the wall, looks moody, and goes out again, either to a vintage Bentley filled with houseplants or just the streets of Poplar. Hob has made friendly conversation with him a time or two, knows that his name is Anthony Crowley and he lives in Soho, and he has a husband/boyfriend/life partner of some description who often drives him bonkers (join the club? Though the Stranger isn't even really that). But from the look on Anthony Crowley's face, as much as can be discerned from beneath his ever-present black sunglasses (not really a fashion item one otherwise needs in London), this is a five-alarm fire, and Hob gets up in some concern. "Hey. Mate. Everything -- ?"

Crowley stumbles past him without answering, which is probably only what Hob deserves. He reaches the bar, and since the bartenders are still on fag break and nobody else seems around to do it, Hob scuttles around the back. "Get you something?"

"Beer. Whiskey. Drink. I don't care." Anthony digs in his wallet and flings the first assortment of bills he can find at Hob, which is far more than it costs for a drink even in this terminally overpriced city. "Make it strong. Want to forget my own fucking name."

"Right. Got it." Hob only worked the bar when the New Inn was first opened and they were still hiring staff, but he hasn't forgotten. He selects a Scottish whiskey, neat, and pours it into the bottom of a tumbler, sliding it across the bar. Anthony throws it back without even seeming to breathe and shoves the glass in search of another, and Hob frowns. "Oy. Take it easy."

Crowley mutters something about that being the last thing he intends to do, thanks, and Hob's curiosity, the one thing that has often propelled him through the centuries, gets the better of him. "Not my place," he says cautiously. "But is everything, y'know? All right at home? Your, uh, partner, is he -- "

The effect of this utterance is not dissimilar to waving a red flag in front of a bull. Crowley rears back, looks for a moment like he's going to bolt, and is only prevented by Hob strategically shoving the refilled whisky glass into his hand. He tosses it down the hatch without turning a hair, wipes his mouth raggedly with the back of his hand, and with that, and no further prompting, launches into an absolutely nutty jeremiad. Something about Heaven and Hell, something about Aziraphale (that's his partner's name, yes) being a stubborn angelic idiot who's going to get himself killed, something about people named Gabriel (also an angel?) and Beelzebub (also a demon -- wait, demon?) running off together and he just thought -- he thought -- like a bloody fool he thought they could -- but no. Nooooooooo.

"Er," Hob says at the end, blinking hard. "Sorry, I don't quite follow."

"Course you don't." Crowley heaves a heavy sigh. "Even though you're not an ordinary human, I suppose it's just too...." He searches for a word, slurs a little on the end (maybe that whisky, of which he has just chugged the third glass, is having an effect on him after all), and enunciates with bitter, drunk precision. "Ineffable."

"Wait. What?"

"You're Robert Gadling." Crowley tips his head like an owl, trying to size Hob up in his progressively more lubricated state, and his dark glasses slide to the end of his nose, revealing lucent golden eyes beneath. "The special one. The immortal one. Right?"

Hob opens his mouth. Hob shuts his mouth. He realizes vaguely that it's quite possible Crowley has not, in fact, been talking in convoluted celestial metaphors the whole time. "How did you...?"

"I know your boyfriend," Crowley snaps. "Bit bloody full of himself too, isn't he? He and Az -- Azz-- Aziraphale probably sit around having secret societies for technology-hating, stuck-up, idiotic, holier-than-thou, utter total fucking prigs who can't use their words and constantly deny their feelings, eh?"

"My boyf -- " All at once, Hob feels as if a grand piano has been dropped on his head from a great height, like something out of an old cartoon. Yes, things with the Stranger are going well-if-you-squint, ever since their last meeting here: the idiot actually turned up, he apologized, he smiled, they had a long conversation, there were definite sparks. Considering the last, er, six hundred years or so of dismal precedent, that's a low bar, but still. "Afraid," Hob says at last, "he and I -- well, we aren't exactly like that, but -- "

Crowley keeps staring at him like he desperately wants Hob to sit him down and give him a clinic in how to get with the fussy, standoffish, excessively rules-bound immortal being he has been, evidently, also bloody pining after for Christ only knows how long. "Why not?"

"Ah." Good question. Hob isn't sure. "It's complicated."

"Complicated." Crowley stares moodily at the mirrored bar. "Sure. Yeah. Six thousand bloody years of complicated."

"Did you say six thousand -- ?"

"Yeah." Crowley holds out the glass again. "More."

Hob's mouth is still open. He's going to say something, but he doesn't know what. Six thousand years? God's wounds. He and the Stranger, at their piddly six hundred, are practically fucking married.

(He gets Anthony Crowley another drink, on the house. Can't help but feel that the poor bastard deserves it.)

[joltai-showa]

Upon reading the latest chapter of Karameru's "If you can press rewind" (do check out, it's pretty fun) I remembered something that made me laugh, so here's some random analysis of Naruto, in particilar, the topic of religion.

And I don't mean stuff like afterlife, random alien rabbits, etc etc, I mean like what beliefs people practice in Naruto world. This topic is brought up in, like, one arc which is Akatsuki supression arc and with one character who is Hidan. That arc is pretty funny in that it brings up two things that should realistically play a pretty significant role in characters' lives - money and religion - buuuut it's instantly forgotten in favor of more Sasuke bitching. Anyway, that's besides the point, back to the topic of religion.

Here I am gonna be laying out things that I certainly remember from my reread of Naruto like a year ago, so not everything might be mentioned, blah blah blah.

Obviously, we've got Jashinism and Hidan as the only known member (no, little Bolt's adventures are not canon to me, there are fanfics out there that have better writing than that excuse of a sequel series). As far as I remember, it's generally treated as a cult, so it's not widely practiced, even though it does offer these tiny little perks like LITERAL IMMORTALITY.

(sidenote but why the fuck was Orochimaru doing these replanting operations every three years when there's a cult like that literally one border away from Konoha? you're gonna be murdering people for experiments anyway, grab a knife or smth and shout that they're dying for Jashin's glory, you literally don't have to change your routine at all and get free immortality as well?)

ahem. anyway. Who the fuck is Jashin? Why is the guy capable of making his hardcore followers just straight up not die from physical injuries? How does he fit with the other stuff like Pure Lands, Limbo, aliens, etc, etc? Nobody knows, but by far the most broken religion in the world where it feels like all major characters have commited at least one war crime.

Now things that are (likely?) more widespread and commonly believed in are Wills, and really there are only two Wills that we ever learn of, first being the Will of Fire (obviously practiced in Konoha) and Will of Stone (literally only mentioned in Onoki's flashback with his grandpa).

Will of Fire, from how I see it, is something similar to beliefs in spirits of ancestors that continue to linger on and provide help given the fact that certain rituals are upheld that are pretty common in many countries in Asia. Sorry if the phrasing is a bit weird, I can barely formutale it in my first language, not to mention English. Anyway, this is, as far as I remember, is pretty widely practiced in Konoha which is not a big population centre in the Land of Fire, but also practically the capital for shinobi forces in the country, y'know, shinobi that have an average lifespan of like 30 years. Will of Fire acts like both the origin point for Konoha shinobi (your ancestors and fallen comrades are part of it and continue watching over you) and the end point (this is what awaits you beyond, presumably honorable, death). So Will of Fire is by far the closest thing that we see to an actual religion.

(also decided to scroll through wiki on this point and lmao of course Will of Fire came from Hashirama, because making everyone go along with your philosophy gonna be great in the long run. no wonder the hidden village system didn't fix shit)

Now Will of Stone is a really weird one because it's actually kinda closer to a philosophy? It just describes what virtues Iwa shinobi is supposed to have, however that might just be an issue that Kishimoto forgot about Iwa's existence for like 80% of the manga, thus whatever lore is there for them is half-done. Anyway, with what we are given Will of Stone is more about what qualities Iwa shinobi should strive for, and, funnily enough, nobody seems to remember that this Will even exists besides Onoki. The youngest generation represented by Kurotsuchi, Akastuchi and Deidara (who is a nukenin which might have explained why he doesn't give a shit about the villages' beliefs) are never shown to acknowledge Will of Stone.

Anyway, that's it for fully fictional religions in the world of Naruto, but we are not done yet, because Kishimoto sometimes really liked to slap elements from Buddhism or Shinto, which I presume to be not completely intentional on his part as he was prioritizing aesthetics of a scene/jutsu rather than the implications this creates for the existing religions in the shinobi world.

Okay, what conclusions can we make regarding what had been given to us in canon? Shinobi definitely have

a) their local religions and beliefs that are pretty strongly assosiated with their villages

b) various cults

c) likely some form of Buddhism

So why did I decide to write up this post after reading the recent chapter in "If you can press rewind"? Well, the most obvious thing from the list above is that Christianity doesn't exist in the context of Naruto world. And, as a result, the characters from that world have no idea what Christmas, Easter, St. Valentine's day, etc etc are, because these holidays simply don't exist for them.

(This is not to throw shade on anyone, just a thing a remembered)

Anyway, so funny story time: there was a post in a Naruto discussion group where the admin brought up this exact same topic and people began analyzing if there were any other signs of real-life religions that shouldn't really exist in the context of Naruto.

And they way everyone LOST THEIR SHIT when someone pulled up a page from the manga where Jiraya was called Naruto's "godfather". Which really shouldn't be a thing unless Christianity does exist in the shinobi world. People began a full-on dang investigation into that page, we're talking about a dozen of people pulling up different translations of the same page, comparing and arguing about the validity of another translation.

It did end well, after a while someone pulled up with the page in Japanese and explained that yes, Jiraya is kind of called Naruto's godfather, but the term in the original text is different to the one used to describe godfather in Christianity, meaning Jiraya is simply someone with guardian-like role to Naruto. Limitations of translations and all, yada yada.

But goddamn was it fun to see people try to fit Holy Crusades into the already messy lore of Naruto

[impinged]

THE ISLAND TO THE NORTH.

a.k.a.: details on siffrin's home and its expungement

(also please forgive me in advance for how terrible this post will be i'm horrendous at meta/hc posts that aren't like... minor silly things. but with that, let's begin.)

Siffrin comes from an island to the north of Vaugarde, and that, dear viewer, is all we truly know about it.

Siffrin departed this location after 'running away' via his family's small boat, only to find that, when he attempted to row back... nothing was there. They then wound up in Vaugarde, washing ashore with no recollection of where he came from, his home, belief, language, and even name.

The reason for the strange occurrence is that the island to the north was suddenly forgotten by those that surround it one day. All it is truly remembered as now is, well, the island to the north. Any attempt to remember it can lead one to a raging headache, and particularly determined attempts to recall it can begin to physically harm you, and if you dare to try harder than that.... well!

Since practically all of Siffrin's core memories are tied to this country, they have wound up with near-total amnesia and a terrible memory. I think a lot of his forgetfulness stems from whatever the memory in question is having associations to when he was still on the island, so thus it is afflicted by this expungement. Additionally, due to the implied cultural exchange between Vaugarde and the island prior to its expungement, specific words or phrases they forget could also be a sort of loanword from the island's language.

What we do know, or learn, is that It possess a language that no one can read anymore (even Siffrin needs a specific item in-game to remember how to read it) and Siffrin, when speaking Vaugardian at least, has a notable, impossible-to-place accent. Additionally, we learn their exclamations of "stars" (and assumedly "blinding" as well, both used in this context as sort of swear word fillers lol) is actually in the language itself. We also catch a few vague descriptors and know whatever worship they took part in revolves around the Universe and the stars, of which the rest of the world does not seem to know about.

The collective forgetting of the island is very, very strong and manifests in several ways. An NPC in Dormont forgets she has a sister simply because she visited the island, and any attempts to recall her cause this NPC intense emotional distress. When memories like this are attempted to be recalled, often times it seems the mind almost 'resets' itself and regresses to a state prior to the inciting incident. A similar phenomenon happens to Siffrin, most notably upon telling the story of their running away. He is later able to bypass this unconscious response via repeated attempts to speak the country's name in front of the King, however this only results in his death.

Even what few records remain are impossible to truly read or even attempt to parse. This detail is important to me, as I'd like it to remain this way even in another world. I've touched on his connection to this island and desperation to remember it, but were they to find anything on it in Spirale, I'd like it to remain indescribable, so I will make continued conscious efforts to make it obscured/obfuscate it (just to torment him a little more y'know.) I hope, when applicable, my writing partners will do the same!

[that1nkyone]

For the send a character ask game: Sans

First impression One of the Skeletons from this Skeleton Game that I've just started hearing about. He seems chill.

Impression now I really don't think anyone anticipated how much of a cultural staple this dude became, least of all Toby Fox. It took me a while to go from my fond characterisation, to 'holy shit this guy's everywhere and I've forgotten what he's Actually Like' back to fond characterisation. We all love a chill guy with Knowing undertones. Everyone's mischaracterised the hell out of him, though, myself included. He is 90 percent Just Some Dude who is really likeable, silly, deceptively intuitive, and easy to project on. The other ten percent? Well, we can speculate.

Favorite moment There's a lot. If you do Shyren's battle concert, he appears out of nowhere and hands out tickets mid-fight. Also, the "my brother'd really like to see a human... so, y'know, it'd really help me out... if you kept pretending to be one."

Idea for a story hey what if he turned into a werewolf dragon thing except he's a gaster blaster and it's symbolically a manifestation of his trauma and anxiety and he learns to overcome it with the help of his friends and family and gets to shoot lasers at his problems and it takes me four years to write. ... in all seriousness, if I ever wrote more Undertale Sans Fanfic, I wouldn't mind doing a small oneshot of what comes After Spectrum.

Unpopular opinion I know folks see him as the Secret Depression character, and while I think that holds some water, I see him a very hopeful character, too. He makes do with what he has, enjoys doing shenanigans, and is tuned in to the world enough to have routines, keep making friends, and make others laugh. That can be interpreted in a few ways, but I don't think he's on the Brink of giving up on everything, either.

Favorite relationship I semi-ship him with Toriel and Grillby, but not to a huge extent. I prefer his friendships with Frisk, any interaction with Undyne is fun, and of course him hyping up Papyrus wherever he goes.

Favorite headcanon That he was once taller than Papyrus - when Papyrus was like, three.

[babyarmybabbles]

Run ARMY! (1st Game Part) a1 d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader won the opportunity to film a spin off of Run BTS! celebrating the boys return from enlistment, called Run ARMY!, over the course of seven days.

Word Count: 954

Notes: This chapter in particular is actually inspired by a SKZ fic on Ao3 but I'm so tired I am not going to go look for it rn. I will probably add it to the inspo list for this chapter when I make an Addition post. Thinking about games and activities for them to do is literally so difficult. Props to the production crew for Run, I could never. Writing large groups is also vv difficult T^T I'm actually pretty content with the writing itself for this chapter. Could use some clarity edits, but everything always can.

Took Inspirations from Run ARMY! series on Tik Tok by _yamanika_ and Guess The Bias! by HelloMyAlien7 on Ao3

Warnings: I don't think there's any?

Masterlist Link <3 | Prev Part Link c: | Next Part Link [Not written D:]

"Before we begin, I would like to apologize to my fellow ARMY" you tell the camera seriously as soon as the PD finishes explaining the rules to you.

You and the boys had been called into the living room of your accommodations after breakfast for the first real game of your trip. It seemed they were mostly theming the games as ones they've done before with the added twist of you. Today’s game? The iconic five sense test.

The group cracks up laughing at your preemptive apology, but you maintain your eye-contact with the camera. "I will be as respectful as physically possible." You promise the dark lens, "Please understand."

You had good reason to preemptively apologize, you thought. ARMY would go feral as soon as this episode aired, you were positive. It wasn't every day one was not only allowed, but encouraged to touch the members of BTS.

That's right, they had rearranged the five sense rest in such a way that it was you against BTS, and the consequence was that you now had to caress each member as little as you could manage and still win the game.

The rules were pretty simple - you'd be blindfolded and the members would take turns approaching you to let you try to identify them by touch. You'd have 50 seconds to guess. If you got a member correct, you'd get a point. If you got it wrong, the boys would get a point.

You think 1 vs 7 is a little unfair, but you suppose that you did represent the millions of ARMYs at home right now. Your team was larger in spirit.

When the members got over their amusement at your impending doom, you took a moment between takes, as the 8 of you settled into position on and around an armchair, to check in that everyone was comfortable. You know you'd filled out an entire questionnaire about what you did and didn't consent to, but that didn't mean you knew that information about the group.

"So, I know I'm OK with this game, but are y'all good?" You question lightly. You're dead serious on the inside, but a little levity went a long way for these sorts of conversations.

It's Jungkook who raises his eyebrow at you. "Yeah, of course." He replies simply, tilting his head at you a bit, as if confused why you'd even ask.

You can't help the half smile that crawls over your face as you explain, "It may be a cultural thing, but I just wanted to make sure you were OK with me touching y'all like that." You pause here, still seeing confusion over most faces, RM and Jin being the only ones to be connecting dots, "Y'know, since we don't really know each other?"

A chorus of enlightenment echoes around the semi-circle of men surrounding you. V in particular seems a bit taken aback, almost like he'd forgotten that you weren't close. Which was silly, because you'd literally met them for the first time yesterday.

j-hope meets your eyes with a kind and encouraging gaze. "We're fine!" He assures you, leveling you with a concerned look of his own, "as long as you are?"

"I assure you, this is a dream come true on my end." You quip, drawing a laugh out of Jimin and a mischievous grin from Jungkook. J-hope just shakes his head at you fondly.

"Seriously though," You continue, "If I'm wandering too far or in directions I shouldn't, just grab my hands to stop me. I'd rather not make anyone uncomfortable." It, in fact, made YOU a lot more comfortable to put the power to stop things in their hands.

You had so much anxiety about respecting their boundaries and it was only day 2. It was tough going from one side of a screen to another.

RM nods agreeably where he's standing and adds, "Sure, and if you get uncomfortable or need a break, just let us know." You sound your agreement to the group's approving nods.

Soon enough Suga was helping you tie a handkerchief over your eyes while you nervously wrung a secondary eye mask between your hands. You'd been handed a cute frog one by a staff member and were quite pleased by its silliness.

You already felt quite vulnerable, blinded as you were. You could feel Suga's fingers deftly tying the handkerchief and resisted a shiver as he gently smooths it and makes you're none of your hair has been caught. You jump a bit when his hand lands on your shoulder.

You feel a split second hesitation before he draws away just to pat you twice in silent signal of the completion of his task and know that he'd noticed. He's kind enough not to mention it, though, and you hope he just puts it down to nerves.

You ARE nervous, of course, of the cameras, and the members, and everything about your situation, basically, but your jumpiness really stems from how unmoored you feel as you slide the face mask on. You're robbed of one of your most relied upon sense and soon to lose a second. You can't help going quiet and still as you listen to the staff and members take their places.

It seems Suga is MCing this episode as he leads the opening and prompts the members to explain what they're up to today. It brings a smile to your face to listen to them banter and you only wish that you could see their accompanying smiles right now.

You assume you've been revealed when Suga calls out to you, so you wave with both hands and try to look more excited than anxious. You're not sure it works.

[toujokaname]

HiMERU Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: HiMERU, Kohaku

"(Let's get properly involved with the world, "HiMERU".)"

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Season: Summer

Location: Seisoukan Common Room

HiMERU: ~...♪

Kohaku: Mm? O~i, HiMERU-han, what're ya doin' this late at night?

HiMERU: —Oh? HiMERU could say the same to you. Are you out on a walk at such a late hour... Oukawa?

Kohaku: Koh koh koh ♪ I'm jus' happy I'm able to walk 'round freely.

Also, when I was at home, I got used to stayin' up late, so sleep don't come to me easy at this time of night.

I keep thinkin' "I oughta go to bed early," but I can't.

That bein' said. If we both don't go to bed soon, it'll have an effect on tomorrow, 'cos human beings can only recover through sleep.

HiMERU: —Is that so. HiMERU's view differs from that, and Shiina, for example, would most certainly hold a different opinion.

Kohaku: Yeah. That moron's a special case in that he can't recover from anythin' that ain't food.

As we spend more and more time together, I've unavoidably learned that he's like a single-celled organism that'll put anythin' and everythin' in his mouth.

He's eatin' all the time. I lose my appetite jus' by lookin' at 'im.

HiMERU: —Fufu. Shiina would surely be unhappy about that, since he seems to love serving food to others.

Kohaku: For real. That guy's like, his whole life's centered 'round his stomach.

HiMERU: Fufu. To HiMERU, that is an enviable thing, to have something so irreplaceable—things like that.

Aah, what does the world look like to such a person?

—Anyhow. To answer your first question, as you can see... HiMERU is writing a reply to a fan letter he received.

Kohaku: Fan retaa[1]?

HiMERU: Yes. HiMERU takes pride in his long career history and is a popular idol in his own right.

Letters from fans arrive in boxes, and all of them are piled up here.

Kohaku: Oh? Really, all of these?

Haah... I can't help but sigh. I'm still unfamiliar with idol culture, so this's new to me, y'know?

It's real impressive that they're all handwritten, even in this age of the Internet, ain't it?

HiMERU: Yes. HiMERU is very grateful for it. Even then, these don't include those that were slanderous in nature. The agency censored and removed those.

Kohaku: Huhh~... And despite that, there's still these many left. HiMERU-han must be a real popular guy, huh?

HiMERU: Rather than it being a result of his popularity, HiMERU is one of the rare types of celebrities who reply to letters. His fans are likely to know this, and thus, they send him more and more.

Anyone would be happy to receive a reply to their letter, after all.

Kohaku: ...That's right. Communication's only possible when you speak or write and get a proper response.

To communicate with someone can be a pleasure hard to come by. Screamin' into the abyss will only hurt yer throat, and nothin' worthwhile's gonna come of it.

HiMERU: —Oh dear. Oukawa, you look a little hurt. Apologies, did HiMERU unknowingly tread on a sensitive topic for you?

Kohaku: Hm. It ain't good to be too sharp, HiMERU-han.

...No need to worry 'bout it, I'm fine. I was jus' thinkin' 'bout an old pen pal of mine.

Hm. Even though I thought I'd come to terms with it and forgotten 'bout it, the wounds in my heart'll remain unhealed and hurt forever.

Oh, well. Sorry I called out to ya while you were workin', HiMERU-han.

I'm goin' back to my room to rest. When it comes to yer letter writing... there ain't anything I can do to help ya, anyway.

HiMERU: Indeed. The senders of the letters, the fans, would most certainly want to receive a reply from their favorite idol written by the person in question.

HiMERU cannot ask someone to write on his behalf, so even if he gets tendonitis, he will have to write them all by himself.

Kohaku: Hmm, "the person in question", huh...?

HiMERU: —What is it?

Kohaku: Nothin'. If you've convinced yourself of that, then I've nothing to say. ...Jus' be careful not to break yer body or mind by overdoin' it, HiMERU-han.

HiMERU: —Yes. Thank you for your concern, Oukawa.

Goodnight, have a pleasant sleep ♪

Kohaku: Koh koh koh ♪ ...Though that surprise attack was meant to shake ya up, you didn't even tremble a lil while you were writin'. I gotta praise ya for that.

You've got a calm face and guts, I'm glad I can rely on ya as a unitmate.

Welp. For real now... G'night, HiMERU-han ♪

~...♪

HiMERU: (...Hm. It looks like he's gone. That made me break out in a bit of a cold sweat.)

(It's the same for you. You have a cute face, but I should never be too careless around you... Oukawa Kohaku.)

("Oukawa". I've heard rumors that they have a family history of single-handedly taking care of dirty work...)

(Sure enough, the more someone wants to hide something, the more likely it is for it to reach their ears.)

(But. Even if you heard about the secret that "I'm" carrying, you should've pretended to be unaware of it.)

(And yet, just now, you deliberately gave me a warning, as if to say, "I know"—why?)

(Maybe you were so sleepy that you slipped up, or maybe you didn't mean anything by it...)

(Was it a threat, or a sign of trust as a colleague? I don't know. There's not enough material to speculate, either.)

(Aah, it's really... interesting. Communication, that is.)

(That which is called life! Overflowing with pleasant discoveries and emotions, the most valuable treasure room in this world!)

HiMERU: (—So. "You". You can't keep averting your eyes and pretending you don't see it... Let's get properly involved with the world, "HiMERU".)

Kohaku repeats this in hiragana, indicating his unfamiliarity with the term.

In his inner monologue at the end, you can notice I didn't make HiMERU talk in third person. The reason why is that in most of his dialogue, he actually omits personal pronouns entirely. In those cases, translators default to making him speak in third person. However, given the context of what he's saying, I felt it appropriate to make him use first-person pronouns. In the Japanese script, he only uses "ore" once, where it's in quotation marks.

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[bugeyedfreaks]

Previous anon about ppgxrrb post (the first one lol)

I agree with a lot of what you say about the shipping of ppgxrrb and how the fans just depict them as ultra hot bad boys. Its a breath of fresh air to see others’ perspectives on this, cause as I said before I admit I am a fan sometimes but even seeing a lot of ooc works puts me off. I understand if older fans/people only like it because of nostalgia (I’m one of those) but I’m more baffled with seeing new/younger that also likes to ship them, I can see them just liking the Boys cause they think gender bent/evil/alternate versions of the main protagonist are just fun in general, but I don’t understand why a lot of new fans that also ships them, maybe its because of fanart/fanfic.

In regard of that fic (assuming we’re talking about the same thing) I think the reason why it was praised so much and put on high pedestal was because the standard of the ppgxrrb fics were pretty low (at the time anyway) and for me personally it does felt I’m watching the original when I read it, (aside from the shipping thing, but I only read it for the character writing mostly) imo probably the closest thing I can get to what an older/teenage ppg would sound/read like, it just had shipping… lol but also yea I agree with you about the other villains not getting enough fanfics for themselves, its unfortunate cause ppg has so many great villains and the fandom just chose the least interesting ones (rrb)

Also I love how you described Boomer, he’d definitely be a whiteknight type then probably go “bubblevicious” when he doesn’t get what he wants, in fics he’s usually the first, quickest and easiest to be redeemed which is just very boring and probably the reason why Blues (BubblesxBoomer) is the least favorite of the 3 ships.

Yeah, I think on the most basic, superficial level, taking NOTHING about the personality or history of the characters into account, if you were to show someone who never saw the show a lineup of the Powerpuff GIrls characters and ask them, "Who are the girls' boyfriends?" they would choose the Rowdyruff Boys. Just because of their character designs they're the easiest characters to pair them off with. And I don't use "superficial" or "easy" as an insult, like... it just is what it is by the very nature of it. On a little less of a basic level, they're probably the only boys in the show (including the boys that are in the girls' class like Mitch and Elmer and Harry, etc.) that would be considered "attractive" enough to match up with them. Which, y'know, I could go into a whole rant about the superficiality (negative this time, haha) of that and how that way of thinking feels very creatively limiting... but, yeah, when you're a new fan and you see all this fic/fanart, not to mention how the ship is ultra visible and popular, it's the simplest entry point.

We're totally talking about the same fic. 😂 Again, I've really tried to read it and have an open mind about it, and I guess the mere fact that (from what I remember) the girls occasionally do have fights in it is enough to make it different from a standard PPG/RRB fic where the girls' superpowers are completely forgotten about (a la the City of Clipsville girls)... but the villains and the crimefighting STILL just feel like an afterthought (and maybe it's just my pretentiously high standards for them talking, but I remember really disliking how the dialogue of some of the few villains that are even included in the story was written). For the most part it just seems like it's all just fancy set dressing to disguise your average high school teen fanfic. I remember trying to read it again a while ago and I got to an early point where like some characters were suddenly like making out and I was just like... ew, no, not for me. 😩 That doesn't make me feel like I'm watching the show, that just makes me sick to my stomach! Stuff like that just pulled me way out, I couldn't enjoy it.

And I guess that's also a thing I dislike about some of the fanfics, like... if the RRB are going to have any similarities to the girls it's going to be their negative attributes, but that doesn't seem like an issue that ever gets explored. It seems like, despite whether or not people write them as still having problematic misogynist qualities, Brick always just turns out to be the hot intelligent one, Butch is the tough dude bro, and Boomer is the sweet, sensitive boi. How boring IS that?! 🤣 It doesn't seem like anyone's really challenged themselves to see things from any different, meaningful perspectives, and I have always felt that way. It is a bummer though that, when I have found the rare fanfic that has great writing and feels like the show characters and tells a story that's interesting and new (or even has a ship for the girls that's completely off the wall but... somehow actually works!)... it's because I had to dig through all the PPG/RRB content to find it. And I've seen many people who've written cool stuff get frustrated enough about that difficulty of visibility that that they take down their fics, or they get discouraged from writing anything else, or they even get harassed for daring to write anything against the norm. It bums me out.

[blankticket]

2, 7, 20

How did you get into this franchise/fandom?

i'd actually been avoiding anything trigun for years, since like high school lol. this is gonna get a little personal (i don't mind sharing, ftr! but i don't wanna hurt anyone just having this all Out Here on your dash) so here's a readmore for discretion:

story goes, high school me had taken one of those MBTI tests and looked at the list of fictional character comparisons and was like

"oh shit! omg who's this guy he seems really cool and awesome, also?!" then did a little reading on it by a fan who was essentially like,

"he's happy-go-lucky and some of that is genuine, but it's also used as a front to hide how haunted he is so that his friends don't worry about him. also he has a ton of survivor's guilt he's carried around ever since he was little—and no small part of that is due to his twin brother."

"oh. lmfao. wait wait wait, okay all of that is way too close to home and that scares me so im going to stay away from this forever (video clip representation of me at the time)".

skip forward about a little over a decade later, all the way to just last december; i'm writing in a crocus thread with roo (maxvash!!!) as a different character, and i'm like. Huh. y'know, i'm actually at a spot where i can handle getting into trigun. and Then see that they reblogged the post about trigun overhaul!

so really—the actual lynchpin to get into trigun here was roo's real impressive depiction of maximum vash, which sparked my totally-forgotten intrigue. read through maximum within 3 days (like, literally mid-thread), then a couple weeks later, stampede started airing! real cosmic line-up of events.

What’s the best thing about the canon you are writing?

interpreting "canon" here as "isola radiale", and specifically its world, i think the best part of it is the settings within spirale. i've enjoyed seeing this map grow and change over the years, even if i've been in and out of the group. the little blurbs for areas are enough to fuel creativity while not putting too tight of a leash as to what can transpire in these places.

environment is key to the way these character interactions work, and i feel there's no shortage to variety or overutilization to be done with the settings available

If you could sum up your character with one sentence, what would it be?

joke answer: "dead man walking anthropomorphism of 'Why Can't We Be Friends'". the ska cover version by smash mouth obviously

otherwise: "A pacifist gunslinger who can't escape trouble, whether of his own making or otherwise."

[vampirelover890]

The Blue Knight (2/?)

Deep within the recesses of the Ynsdryth Capital lived a weapon. That's all they were considered, at least. A person sat behind those empty eyes, forgotten by the world, labeled only by her misdeeds. A knock came from her cell door, calm and steady. The door opened, and from the light she'd been so exiled from for ages, extended a hand of blue steel.

The prisoner reached back, grasping firmly the harsh metal, allowing herself to be yanked into the underarm of a large knight. Despite the gentleness of the knock, what was outside her prison door seemed hectic. The knight which she'd trusted her life to was barreling through the grown men and women who were to stop her. Finally, they'd turned a corner and ran up a flight of stairs into the blinding sun.

The knight set down it's spoils, as the blue encasing slid away from it's head, as if it were melting. The prisoner finally got a look at her savior or perhaps her captor. In front of her stood tall a pale elf-like humanoid, with long black hair and yellow eyes. It spoke softly.

"You are the Heathen, yes?"

The prisoner nodded.

"I am Mirage, born of abominations, and for war; cursed to forever wear the metal forged within the flame of Sky; and you?"

Mirage got her good look at the Heathen. They were a white and red Dragon-Blood, only coming up to about her own shoulder, and wore not but tattered clothes and a piece of jewelry around their neck. While looking at their neck, Mirage noticed what she perhaps should have when she first set the Heathen down. There was a large, see-through hole in the middle of her throat. Looking up, Mirage also noticed that their mouth was sewn shut.

"Why don't we leave town and take a walk through the nearby woods. I'd love to get to know you."

The Heathen didn't have much say in the matter, and so they followed the large, blue knight through the back alleys of the town she'd been locked in for years on end.

Mirage had shrunken down to about the Heathen's height, as they both walked peacefully amongst the shade of the trees. You'd barely be able to tell that they were the most dangerous weapons of the Great War, and had both recently participated in a jail break. Mirage stopped at a rock, and found a reasonably long stick. She tossed it to the Heathen.

"Alrighty, 'The Heathen,' I figure since you've got a bit of something going on... y'know... here," said Mirage, gesturing to her own throat, "you can write in the dirt instead. Let start with something simple. I'm not gonna call you 'The Heathen' all day; you have a different name?"

The Heathen took the stick thrust upon themself, and wrote out the word "Heather" in the dirt.

"Heath- sorry, you're Heather the Heathen?"

Heather wrote out the words, "Guards call me," before her original message. Tapping at it a couple of times, to make clear to Mirage, she got the message.

"Ok, I'm sorry Heather. Next question, how old are you?"

Heather wrote within the dirt, "Was 20 when locked away"

"That makes you near 70 today. About my age. Heather, I was one of the Queen's weapons, too. That's why I got you out of there. She's gone now. We're gonna be alright."

Heather heard how Mirage talked to her, and quickly wrote, "Not child. They treat me like child too long."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. Heather, why did they lock you away?"

Heather wrote one word. "Gone." She pointed to the hole in their throat.

"Someone took your throat? Did you breathe fire?"

Heather shook her head and began writing. 10 minutes later, Heather's tale was scribbled upon the dirt. It read, "When I was born, I didn't worship the water god. I had no mom or dad to teach me why they did. They called me a heathen. No one taught me to speak either. One day, I tried to apologise for being different. I walked into the water god's church, made my way up to the stand, closed my eyes, and said, 'I'm sorry.' When I opened my eyes, the church and the people were gone. I sat in a crater where it used to be. Then the Queen came. She took me in and raised me. She would take me to the enemies forts and towns, where I would act innocent, and then I'd sing. I was the banshee, the siren, the Heathen. Then one day, a lady came up to me, and she punched me in the face, and with one hand held my mouth open as she sliced out my tounge, then held my mouth shut with one hand as she sewed my lips together forever. Finally, she clawed out my larynx with her bare hands. The Queen had no use for me, and so she locked me up. Here I sit now, 50 yrs later."

"Holy shit, Heather. That's a lot. Y'know what, I came to grab you because I knew we'd be able to bond over something like shared grief about the Queen, but I've decided. We're going to go find your tongue and throat, and we'll take em back and bring sweet music to everyone who tries to stop us."

Heather stood up and nodded, conviction in her eyes, determined to take back what rightfully belonged to her.

"Do you know the name of the woman who took your voice?"

Heather grabbed her stick and scribbled upon the rich forest slil they stood on, the name, "Rene Cathbriggs."

[khaosophist]

The conscience I take to write seem so powerful in the moment. There was something today that I forgot to say... Forgetting used to be about the absence of attention. I would feel that I didn't pay attention, and in my hubris, think it wasn't my fault. It really was not sometimes. But there are times where it was about me not wanting any mental load. With my migraines I either drowned myself in the flow, or strangled anything that wasn't about the here and now. Working out, and accepting my intuition has made for a good cocktail. I'm noticing when my wife did something that was a mental load. Usually it's about communication...messaging someone, or calling someone. I don't know where that anxiety came from. But there was a time where just going somewhere would give me migraines. So, I feel happy to just order my medicine for once. Happened one other time. I think it's good I notice these things, because she is so busy with the baby, that I notice when she goes out of her way.

I still have those fears. They terrify me, and I Focus on our kids. I'm terrified that no matter how close we become, I won't be enough. No matter how much she swims with me in the lakes of Hali. No matter How much she plays with me in forgotten beats. No matter how much I accept my self-awareness.

It feels like she sees my imagination alive. Like she understood why I was who I was. I cannot describe the buoyancy of a soulmate's nuzzling. It's like she was made to fit on my chest and shoulders for that moment. That moment where our humanity didn't matter. Only the love mattered.

I'm so proud that I'm still waking up every day. I didn't skip a beat with helping with the kids. I know it's a mental load to wait for someone to tell you what they want...but I can only do so much sometimes. But those nights where I clean like crazy makes me feel like I'm showing her how much she inspires me. I wasn't exactly a slob. But I didn't Deep Clean, y'know? It used to be just picking things up. Then picking things up and broom. Now it's picking things up, broom, mop. I'm thinking of waxing our floor once we have a house. Become the sexy butler I can be for my Twili mistress.

I remembered what I wanted to write about as I was writing, then forgot it. Lol.

But I also remember how I was so desperate for affection with my ex at that time. That I held a girl's hand. When I told my then girlfriend, she told me she didn't care. No idea if it was true. But I had done it because I felt like there wasn't anything there in the first place.

Before that, I remember getting ready to go to prom with her, and as I'm eating with her family, I get told I wouldn't be going, and that it was over. I still texted her. She reminded me how a guy I hated WAS there...an Obvious manipulative pretty emo boy. He'd treat one of my friends like animals, and they still crushed on them. I wonder how my life would have been if I was overtly a douche, instead of a desperate loner.

But, anyways, fact is, I cheated, no matter how small, on my ex. Hand holding, yes. Honest as a snake, yes. But still cheating.

I don't know why I didn't break up with her. I didn't know I was treating life like a game sometimes. Where a test was all that was needed to go to the next level. All it was, was cowardice. I didn't want to admit I was miserable to be with 'The one'. At that time I believed Like the offspring said "The more you suffer. The more it shows you really care, right?"

I realize that I never saw my ex as my 'Waifu' as I do my wife today. I had convinced myself over two years after the break up that I had deeply loved my ex. To justify why I felt so alone. That it was better to be miserable together, than miserable alone. Stupidest shit. The fact I was so miserable without anything to hold on to forced me to find something that I could hold on to that wasn't outside myself.

That was philosophy. I discovered philosophy because of Adventure time. I shit you not. It was the episode where they are searching for the enchiridion. Well, I searched on google and found the enchiridion of Epictetus...and then the rest is history. I went to university to study philosophy because I wanted to. My father would tell you he had something to do with that. But, that's not true. He never shared philosophy with me. The irony being I was surrounded by his books! Yet, I found none of philosophy. But, hey! At least he had Mein Kampf! He didn't even ask his kids if they wanted some of the books he gave away. The only time my father 'shared' a book was when I'd take it out of one of his bookshelves.

As for my mother...I just want to say that being atheist doesn't stop you from sub-conscious projection of gender roles. I always thought my father was at least *Cultured* or *Educated*, like he had saved my mother from a traditional role. But, my father never wrote poetry. He just read it...nevermind passionately sharing one. I first learned of poetry as an *Exercise*. Can you fucking believe it? I had to *memorize* 'la cigale et la fourmis.' big help that was. I forgot it the same year. If it wasn't for school...I may have never wrote shit.

Anyways. My mother had written poetry. She had written. With her tumour, she stopped writing. The tremors...but the way that I projected onto my mother as being 'uneducated' or 'uncultured' was fed by my dad. Y'know, the kind of 'she is such a Christian that she can still love an atheist, and support her satanist son. I'm such a good person for treating her nice even if she believes in a sky daddy.'

It's hard to know what someone can be robbed of. I'll make sure I share all I can, even if I'm tired. Because I want my kids to know their mother is a muse, among other things. Their father a...khaosophist, I suppose. That there is much to learn in places of learning, as much as places which aren't so clear cut. That willing ignorance is worse than ignorance.

The flaws in my children bring out my own. But I won't make that mean I'll let my flaws fester. I'll face them, and show my kids that we are. Maybe they'll forgive me one day, maybe even appreciate me, or love me. It's easy to say 'I love you.' when the world is young...it's once you have perspective that it becomes tricky...

I realize how self-awareness was touted to me as a bad thing. Overthinking...awkward...*Self-aware*. Do you understand? How some people see self-awareness as embarrassing. You ever had someone tell you you're being too Self-aware?

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! Shouldn't I be aware of myself? Why wouldn't I want to be Self-aware? Like, what the fuck? Are some people willingly ignorant of their self-awareness? Why is it weird to say 'I believe X because I *want* to believe it.' rather than 'I believe X because I *should* believe X?

One is Self-aware...the other is...what is it to believe something because one believes they *should* believe it. Like a lot of religious people are like that right? Pascal's wager and shit. One *should* believe in god...therefore I believe in God...oof...like...do some people not want to believe in X but believe in X...because they SHOULD? I don't believe anything I believe SHOULD be believed...only that I believe in them.

Anyways...I found my Twili princess...

That's all that matters. She gave me everything.

So I will too.

[roronoa-roro]

Men!!!

cw: implied fem!reader, referred to as girlfriend (or so ig)

a/n: no idea of word count i just wanted to warm up my writing gears. positive criticism appreciated, like, reblog, comment if you like this and would like to see a part 2 (which gosh i want aby to write so spam her inbox yall i wanna read the rest in her writing )

for a part 2 contact @/sanoinc cuz my brain ded

Your eyebrows twitch in annoyance as you stare at the unchanging google doc.

It's been 30 minutes already and Atsumu has yet to add another word to the document. You can see his cursor on the doc, and he told you he's researching what he's going to write.

But it surely wouldn't need thirty fucking minutes to research about MBTI types, would it?

You call him. The phone rings for a moment before Atsumu picks. "Hey babe, I'm still researchin'. Gimme a minute."

"Alright." You reply, crisp and short. You don't hang up, hoping he doesn't notice. And to your smug chagrin, he doesn't notice. You can hear the slight creak of his gaming chair as he twirls around, already imagining him putting the headphones around his neck back on.

And his next words don't disappoint you at all. "Hey, I'm back. Where were we?"

"Who was that?" It's faint but you can tell it's Osamu from the strong accent.

"Y/n. They have been pestering me with a stupid project. I'll do it later." His tone sounds carefree, ignorant of you seething on the other side of the phone. You throw your phone on the pillow, muting yourself worried you might say something in anger. Sighing, you fall back on the bed, project all but forgotten.

Yes, it carried no marks. But the topic was MBTIs, and learning more about the MBTI of your partner. You had taken a leave of two days from your part time job to get this group project done with. And a little part of you also wanted to have a little bonding time with your silly boyfriend.

So when he did what he did right now, it really grated on your nerves in the wrong way.

You sigh once again, and your roommate looks over. "What's got you sighing like that?"

"It's nothing," you wave it away, "Just a ruined project, and a ruined mood." You mumble the last part, not wanting to bother your bestie with your boyfriend troubles.

She doesn't get the hint, furrowing her brows as she asks, "Is it Atsumu again?"

You chuckle, nodding your head, "Yeah, kinda." Gosh, the entire world could tell when you were dissatisfied with your boyfriend. Everyone except him.

"Y'know, you can always play dirty." She winks at you.

Your mouth falls slack, "No. I'm not sending Atsumu a nude." Hell nah, you were not bold enough to do that. Your roommate was a risky little shit, but that didn't mean that you would let her influence your reasoning.

"Your call," She shrugs, knowing she couldn't persuade you unless you wanted it, "It works for me." She rolls back into the cocoon of her blankets, resuming to idly watch Instagram reels.

You bite your lip, pondering over the suggestion. The wheels whirr in your brain, frustration from your boyfriend's neglect, and anger from earlier clouding your judgment as you grab your phone and head to the dresser.

Sitting before the waist-length mirror, you pull off your tshirt, exposing your bra-clad skin to the mirror. Biting your lip, you open the camera, trying different poses and angles. You pout, reviewing the pictures, none of them seem appealing enough. The images are blurry and the lighting seems kinda dull.

"Want some help with that?" the cheery voice rings behind you. You laugh. Oh, you could you forget that little minx.

"Yes," you nod, "I'll treat you to fries." You promise.

Ro jumps off her bed in one fell swoop. She turns off the lights and switches on the LEDs she taped around the room for this sole purpose. Now bathed in a romantic red color, you glance at yourself in the mirror.

You have to admit you look hot. The lights do your skintone justice and it blurs your face, making it hard to realize who you are. Ro giggles mischievously, "Now comes the good part."

She smacks at your spine. "Ow!" you groan, arching your back. Grabbing your shoulder she whispers urgently, "Hold that pose." She straightens your shoulders out a bit, making your chest pop lewdly. But the lighting falls on your chest, reflecting a pretty red all over your exposed body. The shadow falls on your waist, making it look more appealing.

Ro hands you the phone, camera open and timer for 10 seconds started. She hurriedly sets the phone in your hand, leaping out of the way when 5 seconds are left, "Don't move!" she whispers. The camera shutters, capturing an image of you bathed in red and partially covering your face. You look at the image closely.

A smile lights up your face. The picture turned out very good, lewd but not pornographic, enough to tease. You haven't felt this hot in a while. And you like this. Turning to Ro, you exclaim, "We should do this more often!"

She laughs, "I do this all the time. You tell me when you wanna rile that bitch up again. I'll help you." Her smug smirk tells you she loves the idea of torturing others. And she would be down for another session later.

You send the image to Atsumu, clicking back to the phone call that's been going on for 45 whole minutes already. With bated breath you listen in on his conversation with Osamu.

"Hold up, 'Samu. I got a message from y/n on discord."

"Ya should really get working on the proj-"

There's a dull thud from the other side. You wonder what happened and as if answering your question Osamu hollers, "HOW THE FUCK DID YA JUST FALL OF THAT CHAIR, 'TSUMU-"

"I- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, 'SAMU I-" Atsumu's muffled groans reverberate throught he phone and you giggle, accidntally hitting unmute on your phone.

The other side goes silent for a second. You hear shuffling from the other side and Atsumu's voice this time is clear as daylight as he exclaims, "Ya didn't hang up?"

You peep amidst laughter, "No- didn't-"

"Ya mean," you can imagine him drearily gulping, "Ya heard all of that?"

"I did." You smile, "And I didn't hang up cuz I wanted to tell you that," You lower your voice, mysteriously whispering, "You can get the uncensored version of that pic if you finish the theory work of the project tonight." You resolutely hang up, cutting his high pitched excited squeal off.