#emo rain is my life now

[kosalot]

Emo Rain, send twt

[vellichorom]

you sick little animal, even death itself pities you.

[these-posts-arent-real]

Oh StarClan... your dash has turned into warrior cats again.

#sorry <3 #this one has parts that are based off of that #one post rhats like "if there were cat-people #do you think calico tboys would try to dye over their patches"

2 notes

🔁 🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow reblogged

🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow

Me & Night (my mate)!!!

🏞 trouttail-prefers-bass Follow

:O Kip's mate has finally been revealed!!! And his name is Night? Cooool.

🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow

Yeah haha. Technically his full name is Night Hunter, Bringer of Darkness, but it feels so weirdly formal calling him that, so I usually stick to just Night.

#life #kittypet #collar tw #cw collars #id in alt text

8,504 notes

🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow

I find it really funny when I see cats on here vaguepost about big blogs. Like cmon mouse-brain everyone here knows who you're talking about. Just say their name.

#this is about that one mommy blogger shitting on kipper the kittypet #btw #in case some of you couldnt tell #would be funny if it wasnt so stupid

12 notes

🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

Hahaaaaa.... my mother found out ive been slowly dyeing my ginger patches black...

🪺 robbbinpaw Follow

Why would you do that??? Being a tortie is so cool, I wish I had ginger patches! They're so pretty, why do you want to get rid of them???

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

Uhm. Gender dysphoria??

Like. I know cis male tortoiseshells exist but they're so rare that most cats take one look at me and go "oh, tortie, must be a girl" and that hurts.

🪺 robbbinpaw Follow

OH STARCLAN im so sorry Rot i wasnt even thinking about you being trans, I probably sounded really insensitive... I do understand what you're saying now.

Didn't even ask, how did your mom take it? Does she know why?

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

You're fine <3 I get it. And no, she uh.. has no clue why I did it, she thinks I'm in my "emo phase" or something.

🐍 xviper-the-fagx

Uhh unrelated but what do you use to dye your fur?? Asking for... science...

#"science" meaning i am also a tortie tboy #well technically i'm calico but ykwim

46 notes

🔁 🦋 lalala-bluegaze Follow reblogged

🦢 gentlesong-momof17 Follow

I can't be the only one here who thinks it's unfair to allow kittypets on this site. Posting pictures of themselves and their mates inside of the twolegplace, influencing the young kits on this site to abandon their Clans... surely everyone else sees the problem with this as well.

This is Clanblr, not "Kittypetblr". This was specifically made as a space for Clan cats to connect, not for kittypets to push their lifestyle on us.

They're going to convince our kits to abandon their home and their belief in StarClan just for a more secure life.

#EXACTLY #I only recently found out ex-tc Kipper was a kittypet #it was so upsetting to me because i've always loved his wood-scratch art #to find out he's a clan-abandoner was so saddening

2,447 notes

🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged

🌻 l1llyst3m Follow

The recent drama surrounding Kipper the Kittypet is sad and I hate that he's being bashed just for existing, but it's also incredibly stupid. I believe the cat who wrote the original post said something like, "it's CLANblr, not KITTYPETblr," and then something about belief in StarClan and I just... do you even realize how many Clanblr mods are non-Clan and/or don't believe in StarClan?

To name a few, @s-t-a-r-burning is former WindClan now rogue & openly an atheist, @theshadowhaseyes has been a kittypet his whole life, and @ssuunnrraayy-p has made zir entire blog about how ze travels from one Clan to another & doesnt consider zimself a Clan cat. Those are all mods. "It's clanblr no-" shut up. Just shut up.

245 notes

🧷 name-lists-by-theme

Theme: Water

as always, these work as either part of your name, but they are intended as the first part!

-Abyss

-Bay

-Bog

-Cove

-Creek

-Current

-Dew

-Fog

-Lagoon

-Lake

-Marsh

-Mist

-Pond

-Pool

-Puddle

-Rain

-Shallow

-Sleet

-Spray

-Splash

-Storm

-Stream

-Torrent

Keep reading

383 notes

🐱 berrrrry-o Follow

I think a lot of cats put way too much emphasis on the parts of the warrior code that dont matter, and forget the parts that do, like "feed elders and kits first" and "never neglect a kit in pain or danger"... I feel like those are significantly more important than "a warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet," but maybe that's just me.

#berry yaps #I'm irritated by the kittypet drama going on on this site

16 notes

🔁 🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow reblogged

🔲 sag3-chas3s-squirr3ls-deactivated

I feel like we don't talk enough about how SkyClan got chased out of their own territory during a time of crisis rather than all of the Clans trying to make room for everyone...

I mean, seriously. I know it's taught to all SkyClan apprentices, but I've talked to some of my friends from other Clans and they just. Didn't know that. They were never taught that the other Clans allowed SkyClan to be chased out due to territory loss.

🔲 sstep-xoxo-deactivated

:/ im pretty sure the whole thing about skclan being kicked out of their territory is just a conspiracy theory

🔲 sag3-chas3s-squirr3ls-deactivated

Imagine trying to tell a cat that they don't know their own Clan's history 💀

#ohh i finally found it again #that 1 fucker trying to say that skyclan's history is a "conspiracy theory"

20,056 notes

🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow

:/ I do not like being stuck on the wrong site.

[secretress]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞.❞

What is your future spouse’s aesthetic?

🧡 ݁₊ ⊹ . 🎃 ౨ৎ Masterlist Subliminal Channel Tips ‧₊˚ 🎃⋅♡🍊౨ৎ 18+ Readings Paid Readings Tarot Services

Pac Summary!

🍊Your future spouse's aesthetic.

🍊How they feel about it in the future or in the present moment.

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I

Your future spouse's aesthetic. 

As I was shuffling, nothing came out. So I went with the assumption; perhaps they are lost with who they are. They are trying different aesthetics and seeing what makes them happy. I believe having a title like an aesthetic can bring us down if we don’t know what makes us happy, and that is the same with your fs. They are struggling to see what fits their standards of aesthetics.

Reversed nine of wands.

The reversed nine of wands confirms my thoughts. Right now, they are struggling with everything. They remind me of the tower tarot card. This is seen as something negative, but I see it as a breakthrough in life. Because if there isn't a negative situation, then you can never become uncomfortable or grow from the experience. You need those negative emotions for growth even if it’s sabotaging yourself. You become self aware throughout and teach yourself to not be your own enemy. I’m still feeling hopeless energy with your fs. So right now, the aesthetic is baggy clothes. They are struggling to become comfortable with their skin and what they like. They have tried fancy and luxurious suits. They have tried the swag or baddie aesthetic. They have tried sexy dresses, etc. They keep going for materialistic outfits, and intuition says you will meet them in a month or two and help guide them out of that hell hole. So when you do meet, I see them going for a flowy or relaxing aesthetic. It reminds me of a bit of boho and a soft aesthetic. And those who are into men, I see them actually painting their nails. Now, I've seen people associate nail polish on men with the LGBTQ+ community, alternative/emo/punk, etc., but no. Nail polish is about expressing yourself like makeup; the same goes here. 

How does their aesthetic make them feel in the future?

I kept shuffling the cards, but wasn’t able to get anything. Then I realized they wouldn’t feel much about it. I don't see them caring about how other people perceive them because of you. You were able to guide and heal them in a positive manner that made them realize they don't have to try so hard to impress others and that impressing themselves is more important. And you also taught them that materialistic aspects won't last in the long run; appreciating the small things you have in life is important. Beautiful life lessons; thank you for sharing those with them and elevating them into someone they love. So there isn’t a feeling here, but more of a thank you note from them to you.

‘’Thank you for showing me something that I thought was lost. Thank you for being there for me when I struggled and put money, charm, and looks on a pedestal. It was because of you that I realized that those weren’t important. What matters is the inside of us, our soul, and how we actually do things for other people. Without you, I wouldn't be able to understand who I was—I wouldn't be self-aware of the flaws I had, nor would I understand the struggles I put you in when I was so self-absorbed in the fashion world. Forgetting how toxic the industry has been. So thank you for being by my side and allowing my wings to flutter open as I escaped hell and finally met you in heaven. In our heaven.’’

Masterlist.

Pile II

Your future spouse's aesthetic. 

I was seeing a dark, winter night. The wind is flowing around the dead but beautiful trees. Beautiful white snow is raining down from the clouds, and there is a haunted house. Well, that is how the rumors spread, but in that house was a single father with his sweet daughter, trying hard to survive in the winter. Though it was hard to survive time to time with rumors being spread, people coming to throw hate, and such, the only thing that helped them cope was the love they had together. Before, I check what the card is. Intuitively though, they give me the aesthetic of gloomy winter. That softness that comes from the winter days, the excitement that comes out when it’s winter break, and when you want to go to the fireplace and have a nice cup of hot chocolate while being sneaky and adding marshmallows for yourself. The darker days of the winter as the moon glistens over a river. Or when the days become cold you must isolated from your friends. This is what your future spouse’s aesthetic. It’s complex but that��s the beauty of it. They allow people to spread false judgments while they express what they love, their aesthetic. They portray softness while appearing rough, a contradiction that works beautifully like dead trees allowing the snow to pile on top of it. Eventually the tree grows back and blossoms once more. That’s the irony of your fs.

Reversed four of wands.

A smile appeared on my face because the energy matched. Even though it is reversed, it’s a siren (bird form) on an apple tree, as weapons, i believe arrows, are pointing at her and targeting her. Do you see the resemblance? The weapons are the rumors. The siren are the people in the house, or in this case, your fs’s house. And the apples are the love shared with the family. The tree is what your fs holding their family together. Their family has accepted what your fs change in their traditions/culture which has made them happy. Thus causing them being comfortable with themselves and wearing the aesthetic they like despite it being frowned upon. I am getting a conservative family with them, but the family was able to heal because your fs took the stand and changed their views. I heard the family had no idea of the pressure given to their children before everything went down.

How does their aesthetic make them feel in the future?

The first word that popped up in my head was refreshing. The biggest weight came off their shoulders; it will be so rewarding. Everything they wanted has already come their way, and to top it off, you will be their last reward. Their wishes are coming and you are the last wish. They are manifesting for someone like you; you are their dream person, and the thought of being with someone like you makes them go nuts. Think of the craziest TV show character you know and amplify it by 3-5 times. That’s the excitement I feel with them, but with a healthy mindset. It’s just something they have been dreaming about for so long, since their childhood or teenage years. 

Reversed seven of wands.

Yeah, so with the reversed seven of wands, this is about a turning point that will lead to a positive situation occurring in someone’s life. And you are their positive aspect. If they didn’t stand up for what they believed in and speak with such vulnerability and power, then you guys wouldn’t be meeting in three to four months. Everything would’ve been delayed. And as I channeled this, I kept hearing soulmates. I know all (other than the 3-4% who believes it) of you don’t believe it, but that’s what I am hearing. So if it’s not soulmates for you, then it’s a relationship that is meant to be.

Masterlist.

Pile III

Your future spouse's aesthetic. 

Two of wands.

Your future spouse’s aesthetic is daring. They like to try new things, always getting out of their comfort zone. Sometimes, they enjoy pissing other people off because they live in a traditional area. Wearing something that is provocative or very showy bothers the people around them, but for them, it’s similar to adrenaline. I see someone riding on a skateboard wearing ripped jeans, showing their bruised knee. A grin is on their face as they are wearing a crop top, accentuating their curves and body. People look at them with disgust, but all they can see is their reactions. People record them to make fun of them and yet, they do not care. This is your future spouse’s energy. They genuinely don't care what other people think of them unless it comes to you.

Their fashion is fun and bold. It makes you think about them as they stay on your mind. In terms of aesthetic names, I get punk and emo vibes and lots of tattoos or piercings. Someone has vampire teeth, or they add them in. For some, your fs loves wearing spiky boots or making their ponytail in a spiky motion. Others, think of alternatives mixed with cyberpunk. Very wild and bright colors too. They know what they want when it comes to life and their fashion taste, and they are very straightforward about what they dislike too. So when there is a communication issue, they will be upfront about it and you both can resolve it quickly. 

How does their aesthetic make them feel?

Ten of pentacles and queen of wands.

Honestly, they feel blessed that they are wearing what they love. When you live in a traditional area, it’s hard to wear the outfits or do the things you enjoy, but they were able to push past their fears and become confident. Their outlook on life changed drastically, and they became comfortable with their real selves. They also feel thankful for how you will accept their fashion. They felt hesitant around you because they assumed you wouldn’t like their fashion style.

Masterlist.

Pile IV

Your future spouse's aesthetic. 

When I was shuffling your cards, a card flipped by itself, and then it became lost. At first, your future spouse kept changing their aesthetics constantly. They didn't know what looked best with their facial structures. They have a mother who is into cosmetics, so they know how to work well with fashion, but the idea of being perfect has affected their mindset. ‘’Perfectionism is my downfall; I know that, but I am working on it.’’

Reversed strength and reversed the high priestess.

Their mother has always been strict with them. Always putting their imperfections on their child because they couldn't handle their insecurities. So your fs has absorbed what they said onto them, thus causing them to become a perfectionist. The high priestess reversed is focused on trust issues and a lack of personal harmony. Their mother pressure has caused a strain in their relationship, and the amount of projection has made your fs doubt their fashion style. That is why the card disappeared and became lost. That is their energy right now. Their aesthetic is kind of like piratecore mixed with richness. It’s very attractive and will make you feel flush. I see them wearing a corset tank top with a white blouse top, showing their breasts slightly, or they will show their chest and torso in a laid-back way. They will have black pants that are tight to accentuate their body and to match their eyes. They will wear a black steampunk or some type of long jacket with buttons resembling a pirate’s captain. It’s going to fit very nicely. They will leave their hair loose to create that effect. And I am also seeing that sometimes they will switch it and wear a suit while still allowing their chest to show. I'm getting a strong nonbinary aesthetic too. They don't focus on what is feminine or masculine; whatever appeals to them and makes them look attractive in their eyes is what matters. 

How does their aesthetic make them?

Reversed six of wands and the empress.

There is already a huge cliff between their mother, and their fashion focused on piratecore and rich/luxury has drifted them a bit. Their mother isn’t noticing their hard work to find what they like; they are supposed to be into only classy outfits. Everything must be hidden and modest, and they break that. So that has pissed off their mother. The six of wands reversed is about a temporary setback and a lack of recognition for achievements. In the future though, I don't see much of a difference between them so meeting their mother isn’t a likely occurrence. On the bright side, they love their aesthetic, which makes them love themselves more. They are able to rebel against their mother and find comfort in this. The amount of changing things up to fit their mother’s standards killed a part of them, and to be able to gain it back and become resilient is something they are thankful for. They have a strong connection with themselves, and it makes them want to learn how to make their own clothes or design them. But no, this is a hobby and not their major or what they want to have as a career in the future. I also hear that they find themselves to be beautiful now, and a huge weight is off their shoulder. In a way, they are their own mother now (accepting their feminine side and taking care of their inner child), and when you meet, they will prorate a nurturing and mother-like nature. Tranquility is what appeared in my mind; you will feel peaceful around them. A true gemstone amongst the fake ones. 

Masterlist.

[rainybubbles]

Unrequited love and 141

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

Suggestive theme for Soap's one /!/

SIMON : you were his second choice.

You gazed into his eyes, and within their depths, the truth unfurled. His lips remained sealed, yet their silence spoke volumes, delivering a verdict you dreaded.

"I'm sorry, I don't like you that way," he said, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

-Such has been the pattern of your existence.

-You were never anyone's first pick—neither for your family, nor your friends, nor your school.

- You were always the second choice. And for a brief moment, you thought maybe things were different with Simon.

-Maybe his kindness towards you meant something more, maybe his tough exterior was just a front.

-But no, it wasn't like that at all. You felt foolish, like you were living in a dream.

-"Let's just forget about this, it was dumb," you whispered, trying to brush it off.

-"Yeah," he agreed quickly. Too quickly. And you knew why. He never saw you in that way.

-"You'll find someone better," he said, trying to be comforting.

-You fought the urge to scream, to rail against the clichéd reassurance.

-"Less emo, maybe?" you joked, but it didn't ease the pain.

-He chuckled, a sound you used to love, but now it only reminded you of what you couldn't have.

-"You'll find someone," he repeated, but you knew it wasn't true. All your crushes ended the same way, and Simon was your last hope.

-"I should go home. You have stuff to do, right?" you said, feeling the awkwardness between you both.

-"Yeah," he confirmed, not asking you to stay like he usually did. You knew you messed up.

-You forced a smile, hiding the tears, and left.

-Walking back to your apartment, the rain mixed with your tears, and it all felt like one big mess. You wanted to forget about Simon, but at the same time, you wanted more of him. It was torture.

-Back at your place, you picked up your phone and saw a message from Johnny. Simon has been seeing someone. It hit you hard.

-"When?" you replied quickly.

-"This week. He wasn't sure, but it's been going on for months," came the response.

-And then you realized. 

-Those moments you shared with Simon—they weren't meaningless. 

-They weren’t figments of your imagination.

-Him without his mask, the flirt jokes, the stay-in at his flat…

- They were moments stolen in the absence of his true desire, placeholders for another. 

-You were nothing more than a substitute, a convenient distraction until his heart's desire was available. 

-You were just a stand-in until his real crush was available. 

-You were a second choice.

-"What a coward," you muttered to yourself, feeling angry and hurt.

__________________________________________

SOAP : hookup who wishes more

His lips brushed against your neck, the sizzle of breakfast in the pan, and you allowed yourself to drift into reverie.

A life entwined with his seemed within reach.

Yet, the harsh reality pierced through when he reached for his phone to answer another call from another one night-stand.

In his bed, you were just another person, another quick fuck, maybe the one he was most comfortable with, like an old pair of socks.

But not the only one. Just someone he could rely on when he needed.

It was silly to have feelings for him.

But sometimes, when he stayed in the morning, asking about your family or giving you birthday gifts, you couldn't help but hope.

Maybe he was trying to tell you something. Until he left again. Until he talked about others. Until he was with someone else.

You lived close to his place, always there when he wanted you. Even though you knew your place, you couldn't bring yourself to cut him off, to tell him to stop.

Your heart craved his attention, even if it was only for a moment.

"Could ye pass me the salt, Nox?" he asked casually.

That wasn't your name, nor a moniker he bestowed upon you. Your body tensed, gripped by a sudden realization. He had mistaken you for one of his fuck buddies.

The agony engulfed you, clouding your thoughts.

"It's not my name," you whispered, barely audible.

"Sorry, Ah wasn't payin’ attention," he apologized, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Focused. The word echoed in your mind as you struggled to find your voice. "Leave," you whispered.

"Whit?" he asked, confused.

"I said, leave."

“Wait, if somethin’ happened, I can help-”

“That's the problem, John. You can't help. You can’t have it both ways. You can't treat me like your lover one moment, only to discard me for someone else the next. You can't oscillate between warmth and coldness. I'm tired of being strung along by your attachment issues. I know your family, John. I've met them all. Yet you introduced me as a friend. After each deployment, you sought solace in my arms, whispering promises you never intended to keep. I've had enough."

"I can change, just give me a chance—" he pleaded.

"No," you said firmly. "You want fun, I want commitment.I won't demand something you're incapable of giving. But I refuse to be ensnared in this farce any longer. Leave my home, and never return”

"It's a misunderstanding, please, just listen—" he begged.

"You called me by the wrong name," you said, your voice breaking. "While I made breakfast, you were texting someone else. You even made plans with them while we were supposed to watch a movie together. It's clear to me now."

John left, leaving behind a mess of emotions. You cried, but you also felt a sense of relief. Next time, you promised yourself, you would ask for honesty from the start, before getting caught up in another tangled web of confusion.

__________________________

GAZ : waiting for someone who doesn’t wait for you.

You stood there, shivering in the biting cold, lips pallid, hands tingling crimson from the chill, yet refusing to let a single tear betray your anguish.

As each shop shuttered its windows, the empty streets echoed with the hollow sound of your hopes crumbling, brick by brick.

You clung to the belief that Gaz would never abandon you, not after everything. So you lingered, a lone figure in the twilight, yearning for his arrival.

But when he finally materialized, it was a dagger to your heart. His arms wrapped around another, their laughter slicing through the silence like shards of glass.

Together they sauntered into the very restaurant where he had promised to take you, where they shared a meal that should have been yours.

Fingers trembling, you reached for your phone, desperate to bridge the chasm between you and him.

Yet he flicked his device off with callous disregard, leaving you to drown in a sea of unanswered questions.

Why? Why would he toy with your emotions like this, dangling the prospect of reconciliation before your weary eyes only to snatch it away?

He had been the one to reach out, resurrecting memories of a bygone era when you were each other's world in high school, planting seeds of hope for a future together.

And foolishly, you had clung to those promises, waiting with bated breath for his return, even as the minutes stretched into hours.

You had always been waiting for him.

You had always been the one chasing after Gaz, in school, in matters of the heart, in the delicate dance of friendship.

But now, as you trudged towards the desolate bus station, the bitter irony of it all weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

The clock struck midnight, and a message flashed across your screen, belated apologies dripping with insincerity from him.

 In that moment, the truth became painfully clear: you had always made time for him, carving out precious moments in your hectic existence, while he couldn't spare a single second to offer a genuine excuse, a shred of explanation.

And so, as the bus rumbled towards an uncertain destination, you vowed to reclaim the pieces of yourself that you had willingly sacrificed at the altar of his indifference.

 For in the end, you realized, the only person worth waiting for was the one who would never keep you waiting in the first place.

__________________________

Price : he loved you. You love him.

You watch as his fiancée weeps, tears staining your own cheeks. It's not the same for you. It's not joy, it's sorrow.

Yet, despite the ache in your heart, your eyes betray you as they linger on how handsome John looks in his pristine white suit. Your heart, it seems, has impeccable taste.

You hear him uttering his vows, the crowd erupting in cheers.

But your mind is fixated solely on the fading of his smile. You know it's just your own jealousy speaking, suggesting that perhaps he harbors a secret desire to halt this union.

You despise it, yet you can't silence the relentless overthinking that observes how he subtly recoils when their hands touch, how his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, like a fleeting shadow of itself.

But now is the time for speeches, or forever hold your peace, isn't it?

And your decision has been made, etched into the stars since the day he shared his dreams of them, seeking your approval.

The festivities commence, and you remain composed, aloof, deliberately distant from him, from them. You're afraid—afraid of divulging everything, afraid of shattering it all.

"You've been keeping to yourself," he remarks.

"Is that an inquiry, Captain?" you retort, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words.

"You're not in the military, don't call me that, dear."

You manage a wry smile.

"I don't fare well in crowds," you confess.

"I know," he acknowledges softly. "I just wanted a moment to talk."

"About what?" you inquire cautiously.

"You seem distant, from everyone," he observes.

"I... I just need time to recuperate from something, nothing significant," you deflect.

"Is it... physical?" he probes.

"No," you reply curtly.

"Emotional?"

"John."

"I just want to understand," he persists.

"Ignorance is bliss," you murmur, a trace of bitterness tainting your words.

"Yes, but not when it comes to you," he counters.

"John, please don't push," you plead.

"I will.You can't just shut me out like this," he insists, his brows furrowing in exasperation.

"Watch me," you retort, your jaw set stubbornly.

"Why are you like this?" he demands, his voice rising slightly with pent-up frustration.

"Like what?" you counter, your own patience wearing thin.

"Closed off. Distant. It's like you've built a wall between us," he argues, his words laced with hurt.

"Maybe I have," you admit, your voice softening just a fraction.

"Why?" he implores, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Irritation flares within you, fatigue settling in. You've had your fill of this celebration, of the clamor, of the happiness that seems so out of reach.

And then, it slips out.

"I love you. Satisfied now?" you snap.

His expression morphs, a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"You can't just drop that bombshell on me," he whispers, his voice tinged with betrayal.

"I warned you, John. Don't try to shift the blame onto me," you retort, your tone strained.

"Why... Why didn't you say anything before?" he implores, his frustration evident.

"Because you paraded around with people who bore no resemblance to me? Because our friendship means everything to me, and I couldn't risk it," you confess, your voice trembling with emotion.

His anger simmers beneath the surface.

"Listen, I'm sorry. Let's forget this, you have your fiancée and—"

"I loved you too," he interjects, his admission cutting through the air like a knife.

"What?" you gasp, stunned.

"Before my fiancée, I... I was utterly in love with you. I... damn it, we could have... Why didn't you say anything?" he laments, his voice thick with regret.

"John, no," you murmur, your heart breaking all over again.

"I love her now," he adds hastily, as if trying to extinguish the flicker of hope that ignited within you.

"You can't drop this bombshell now. It's cruel," you whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"I know," he admits, his gaze dropping in shame.

"You're a coward. You've moved on, and now you leave me with this 'what if,'" you accuse, the words bitter on your tongue.

"It'll fade," he offers weakly.

-"Fuck you, John," you hiss, the finality of your words hanging heavy in the air.

-You never see him again after the wedding. You couldn't bear to, not to his fiancée, not to him, not to yourself. Perhaps, you muse bitterly, ignorance truly is bliss.

if you want more : my masterlist

[caprisunnydays]

Kurapika x Reader Head canons

I never see Kurapika content that keeps his actual character in mind, so here's some of my personal opinions on what being loved by our fav pretty boy is like :)

First of all, he's not interested in a relationship

He's out for blood, everyone knows that, everyone understands that. He's not even thinking about being in a relationship

But then he met you

Stupid, wonderful you

I don't think it would be a "love at first sight" situation with rose petals and stary eyes and all that shiz cuz he's too emo for that

I could say he might be a demiromantic king but I digress

When you first met, he didn't think of you differently from gon or his other friends

But as you continued adventures with him, perhaps through and after the Hunter Exam, you both got to know each other better and he didn't even notice he was falling for you

He just thought it was a REALLY good friendship (again, romance isn't even a thought to him right now)

It becomes second nature for him to protect you in fights, especially against people like Hisoka

He just sticks by your side through adventures

He just finds your presence nice. Very peaceful very demure

He's drawn to you in a way he doesn't understand, but doesn't even think about

That's probably a good thing for now because when he realizes his feelings he's gonna have a freak out

Speaking of which-

One day he's crashing out over his clan for the millionth time and you're like "bro chill" and he doesn't obviously, but with you standing in front of him, he can't find it in himself to actually go off on you

Don't get me wrong, this is not a "bby look at me this isn't u" situation, it's just like you : "Kurapika PLEASE this isn't gonna solve anything right now this is not the time nor the place" him : Stares intensely You don't understand...starts monologuing but not cursing your name so like you're kinda special

Leorio makes jokes about how Kurapika is finally getting some, which makes him roll his eyes, telling him he's beings stupid

But then Gon genuinely asks why he makes goo goo eyes at you all the time "I'm just watching" He says...

Then he thinks about it a little more and he's like fuuuuuuuck... FUCK NO I DON'T GOT TIME FOR THIS

And then he buries his feelings.

He mentions them to NOBODY, not even his little group

It would take probably you almost dying or some big dramatic event for him to confess. It would be spontaneous and heart felt, probably in the rain (a little cheesy yes but I think it'd be cute)

"This horrible feeling in my chest...not just the burning hatred for those who have wronged me, but something else...It won't stop clawing at my insides. This...feeling...for you. I can't...feel this way about someone. Not right now...Not until what must be done is done." Something like that

If you want a relationship I genuinely can't see him in one for a while, and if you do it's gonna be a tad toxic, but he loves you so very much

You're all he has left, and he'll protect you with his life. That's tough though when he's always busy

BUT THATS FOR ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS WOOOOOOOOO

A bit long but I had fun with this, love hxh, will post more of those there's just not enough of my boy!

[cuubism]

Made in an Instant (3/5)

continuation of Dream's eldritch pregnancy

Apparently by sheer force of will, Dream still refuses to ‘look’ pregnant in any kind of meaningful way. But looks are not everything, and the fact that Dream is not quite himself—more so the further along they get—is evident in how… chaotic the Dreaming has been.

Gravity’s all wonky. Hob will walk along a palace corridor towards Dream’s quarters—a corridor he thought he knew plenty well—only to find the sky out the windows is suddenly down, and he’s walking on the ceiling. Usually, the second he notices he plummets to the floor. Or rather, to the ceiling. Or whatever.

Weather’s weird, too. Not really in a bad way, not like when Dream is morose and it rains all the time. But there’s been snow going sideways—“the baby likes winter,” Dream said at one point when Hob asked—and the waterfalls that tumble down the river running by the castle have been running up, and the temperature is fluctuating seemingly by the minute. Hob’s given up on trying to dress to the weather—even dream-logic can’t keep up with the changes. He just suffers through it. It’s probably bothering Dream more than it is him, anyway.

He copes with the chaos because he might as well get used to it now—it’s not like a magical baby is going to be any less chaotic.

On this particular day, when Hob arrives in the Dreaming to see Dream, he nearly backs right back out again. Not that that’s really how it works. But it’s high noon, the sun glaringly bright overhead, and the Dreaming is blaring with noise.

With music, specifically. The whole place is playing “Bring Me to Life”, of all things, very loudly, though it seems to be some kind of infant adaptation made of bells and chimes. Covering his ears, Hob tries to find a speaker system in the palace. Nothing. It seems to be ambient noise emanating from the sky and the earth and the very fucking soul of the place.

So instead he goes to track down Dream.

On his way, he passes Lucienne, who’s valiantly trying to complete her work in the library, brow pinched, and Matthew, who alights briefly, unsteadily on his shoulder to say, “I know they’re having mommy and me music time and it’s all sweet and cute but do you think you can get him to turn down the emo xylophone? I can’t fly in this shit,” before winging away again.

Eventually Hob reaches Dream’s quarters. He doesn’t answer when Hob knocks, so Hob just goes in. He finds him sitting on the floor, back to the stone wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped over his ears. Shit. Rough day, then.

Hob sits down across from him on the floor. “Dream.” No response. He taps Dream’s knee. “Dream!”

Dream startles, looking up at him. Then seizes Hob’s hands and clasps them over his own ears, sighing in relief when that apparently mutes some of the sound. Hob’s not sure how that works, but then, everything works weirdly in the Dreaming.

Hob moves closer to him so he can sort of, awkwardly, fold Dream into his arms. “Are you okay, honey?”

Dream shakes his head. “Loud.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

He shakes his head again. “Inside.”

“What does that mean?” Hob asks. “Are the baby’s powers bothering you?”

Dream nods as he pushes his face into Hob’s shoulder, Hob’s hands still covering his ears. “She is… growing into herself, and I am glad for it, but—” he breathes out, hard, tired— “but, I have been. Busy. And. My focus slipped. And she is very excitable. It seems.”

Hob really should do better than to forget the gap between what Dream feels and what he vocalizes. Listening to him talk normally, one would think that managing the baby’s burgeoning powers required no effort at all.

“You’ve been dealing with so much, my darling, haven’t you?” Hob holds him close and rocks him back and forth. “It sounds very hard. You’re doing so well.”

“Hob Gadling, I do not need your platitudes,” Dream growls, but he wraps his arms around Hob nevertheless, fingers gripped in his jumper. Hob keeps his hands pressed over his ears.

“‘Course you don’t,” he says. Then keeps up with the platitudes anyway, as they seem to be pulling Dream’s focus from the overwhelming music. “You don’t need me to tell you how powerful you are. Or how good a job you’re doing taking care of our baby as she grows. Do you?”

Dream just sighs, but doesn’t protest. Even dream kings need to be told they’re doing a good job sometimes, Hob thinks.

The music’s changed. It’s metal now, though still in that bells and xylophone register. “Baby likes Metallica?” Hob asks, and Dream makes a hmph sound into his shirt. “Think we can turn it down a bit? Matthew was crashing into walls.”

“You can turn it down,” says Dream.

Hob is about to ask, well, how? then thinks, fuck it, this is the Dreaming. He imagines a dial in front of him, and turns it.

The volume goes down.

The Dreaming’s so cool sometimes.

“Thank you,” Dream says.

“What were you up to before all this?” Hob asks, finally loosening his grip on Dream’s head now that the music’s lower.

“I was building her a room in the palace. I was… struggling to get it right. Perhaps the details will have to come to me later.”

“You seem pretty tired. Maybe you should just come back to it, hm?”

“Perhaps.” He finally lifts his head from Hob’s chest. “Would you like to see?”

“The room? Definitely.”

They get up, and Dream opens a door in his chambers that definitely wasn’t there before to take them through to another part of the palace.

Inside, it’s, well. It’s chaotic.

Much like in Dream’s throne room, the ceiling is composed of a literal night sky, deep enough to fall into. The walls bear murals of various Dreaming landscapes and the fantastical creatures that live in them, which Hob thinks Dream might have painted by hand. He also thinks they might be more like doorways than murals, at least when Dream allows them to be. There’s a stream running through the center of the room with actual fish in it—definitely a drowning hazard, but presumably Dream has some magic that would prevent that—and in the corner is, despite Dream’s claims that he could make one so much better, a direct replica of the crib Hob had put together in the Waking. Which is so sweet.

It’s all very chaotic, but it’s… nice, too? It’s eclectic and changeable, the way the baby’s power feels, when Hob’s felt it.

“It’s gorgeous, Dream, I think she’ll love it,” he says, and Dream’s tiny smile is surprised, but pleased. “Just make sure she doesn’t drown in the stream, yeah?”

“I will ensure it,” Dream promises. “She will come to no harm in the Dreaming.”

“Good.” He pulls Dream close, kisses his cheek, holds him as they look at their child’s room. Their child. They’re really doing this? Trying again?

Well. There’s really no turning back now.

Dream sighs tiredly, leaning into his side.

“I wish I could help you more with this,” Hob says. “I know I can’t, not with all of it, but still.”

“Such is the way of things,” says Dream.

Hob wraps his arms around him from behind, cradles his belly in his hands. It’s something he did, once upon a time, for Eleanor. Dream doesn’t have much of a belly at all—Hob doubts he ever will at this point—but he seems to appreciate the gesture. It’s all about the meaning of a thing with Dream, rather than the materiality.

Indeed, Dream hums, laying his hands over Hob’s.

“I hope you aren’t suffering too much,” Hob says, hooking his chin over Dream’s shoulder.

“Suffering, no,” says Dream. “Feeling as though I have taken on a second job, so to speak, yes. But.” He looks down, smiling lightly. “It makes me happy, to feel her. When she is not trying to play extremely loud music, that is.”

“Soon she’ll just be playing extremely loud music in my flat. How much insanity am I going to be coping with, by the way? Are we going to be taking home a fully-grown terror?”

“Mmm. Rather more agency than a human baby, I expect.” He sounds like he’s enjoying the prospect of chaos at Hob’s expense. Of course.

“Terrific. Time to concept-proof the house. As a concept, you’ll have to advise.”

Dream chuckles, holding onto Hob’s hands where they’re still wrapped around his belly. Hob kisses the side of his neck.

“Is there anything I can do for you, darling? Anything that will make you feel better?”

“I will come back with you to the Waking, for a time, if you are not busy,” says Dream.

“Never busy when it comes to you,” Hob says.

Dream gives him a look over his shoulder, but doesn’t protest. Hob holds onto his hands as Dream takes them to the Waking.

It’s always really weird waking up that way. There’s no proper line between dreaming and waking, the dream-space of their daughter’s future bedroom just sort of cedes into Hob’s flat, and he finds himself in bed, blinking awake in the dark. Dream is lying curled in his arms, in much the same position as how they were just standing.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Hob says, and Dream huffs.

“Will you indoctrinate our child with your sense of humor?” he asks.

“I’ll sure try.” 

Dream just sighs again in response, long-suffering as always. Hob cuddles him close, and feels the way his whole body relaxes. It’s lovely how, in all the turmoil of pregnancy, he seems to be gradually allowing himself a modicum of greater relaxation and indulgence, at least when they’re together. It’s still only a small percentage of what he truly should allow himself, in Hob’s opinion, but it’s progress.

“I’m glad you came back with me,” he says, petting Dream’s hair. “Take a break for a little while.”

“For a short time, perhaps,” Dream agrees.

“For a longer time?” Hob says.

He really thinks Dream might benefit from taking some time off before the baby is born, too. Taking time off is anathema to Dream, and he’s not particularly fond of being told what to do, either, so Hob hasn’t pushed it much. But there’s no real reason not to. The Dreaming won’t fall apart if he takes some time for himself, just for a few months.

“I don’t know,” Dream says, which is as good as a no. “Perhaps.”

And Hob gets what’s going on in his mind. If Dream felt that resting was something he needed to do for his daughter’s sake, he would likely do it, but as it stands it feels far too self-indulgent for him. He can’t stand to allow himself that.

“What can I do for you now, darling?” he asks. “What do you need?”

Quietly, Dream says, “Will you make love to me?”

“Oh, love.” Hob kisses the back of his neck. “You hardly have to ask.”

He can imagine Dream’s tiny smile, even if he can’t see it.

He traces his hand down Dream’s chest, Dream’s shirt disappearing into mist in the wake of his touch. Dream leans back into him, and Hob keeps touching him, lower now, brushing the hem of his pajama pants, which likewise dissolve back into dreams. He dips his fingers between Dream’s legs, drawing another long sigh from him that merges into a low groan.

“Sensitive?” Hob teases, and Dream huffs. Hob kisses under his jaw, holding him close. “It’s okay. You’re so beautiful right now, you know that? So gorgeous.” He splays his free hand over Dream’s belly, arm wrapped around him, as he keeps working him with the other. Dream shivers and squirms under his touch.

Hob delves his fingers into him. Dream is already wet and aching, so wanting. Hob takes himself out of his pajama pants, thrusts between Dream’s thighs. Dream gasps as Hob nudges at his entrance, then moans as he eases in, so easy, like Dream was just waiting for it.

He gives a few slow thrusts, breathing out hard against the back of Dream’s neck. “Feel so good, love.”

Dream grabs onto his hand, squeezing tight. “Hob.”

Hob rolls his hips, fucking him long and slow, lips pressed to Dream’s skin. He can’t lie and say he isn’t very into Dream like this. There’s nothing particularly physically different about him. But he’s so wanting. And when they’re alone together, he’s so open about wanting, too. Hob is very much into a Dream who wants to be coddled and is willing, at least to some degree, to admit it.

He keeps rocking into him, kissing his neck. Dream pushes back against him, meeting each thrust. He feels so good, lax, and pliant, shivering when Hob rolls into him. Hob holds tight to Dream’s hand, gasping at each peak of their rhythm.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Hob murmurs against his skin. “Is that good for you, love?”

“Yes, yes.” Dream cries out as Hob presses in deep, then shudders, clenching down around him. “Hob.”

“So good, sweetheart. Perfect. I love you.”

He keeps up his steady, measured pace, though Dream’s body feels so good it makes him want to just chase his own release until he catches it. Make love to me, Dream had said. And Hob will. He’ll always want to hold him close, to make him feel good, to feel the way Dream relaxes when he knows he’s loved.

“Please,” Dream begs, “please, Hob—” and oh, Hob loves when he can unravel him enough to get that.

He kisses the affected pulse in Dream’s throat, murmurs, “Shhh, love, I’ll always give you everything you want, don’t you know?”

“Yes,” Dream breathes, “yes, yes—”

Then he comes, clenching tight around Hob with a gasp. His body spasming pushes Hob over the edge, too, and he holds Dream close as he spills in him, Dream letting out a low whine at the feeling.

When he’s recovered his breath, Hob carefully pulls out, and leans over Dream’s shoulder to catch his lips in a thorough kiss. Dream twists and tangles his fingers in Hob’s hair, humming into the kiss.  

“You know,” Hob observes, as they’re still tangled together, a smile tugging at his lips, “this is kind of how we got into this situation? Still didn’t talk about birth control, either.”

Dream grumbles, pulling back far enough to look at him. “I can hardly get pregnant twice at the same time.”

“Didn’t think you could get pregnant once,” Hob says. “I wouldn’t put anything past you, love.”

“I vow that I will not get pregnant again,” Dream concedes, with a long-suffering sigh.

“Retroactively?”

“Hob.”

Hob laughs at his aggrieved tone, squeezing him tight. “Even if you did, it’s alright. We’d make it work. I doubt dealing with two is something you’d want right now, though.”

“I certainly would not,” says Dream. “Your daughter is already very demanding.”

“She’s my daughter when she’s being demanding?”

“Correct,” says Dream haughtily, and Hob kisses him again.

“Then she’s your daughter when she’s making things float in my living room,” he tells him.

“Float,” Dream echoes. “Perhaps. I’m uncertain exactly how her powers will manifest in the Waking. It is clearer to me in the Dreaming, although all dreamers have some ability to mold the dreamspace around them, part-Endless or not.”

“I’m definitely feeling so prepared for it.”

Dream quirks a smile. It seems to be at Hob’s expense. “I am sure you will manage. You’ve endured greater challenges.”

“Have I?”

Dream only continues to smirk at him, somewhat wickedly, so Hob tousles a hand in his hair and gets up. “Stay there, my prince. Let me do all the work.”

“I shall,” Dream says, lying back and sprawling out in the sheets. Hob just shakes his head fondly as he turns to the bathroom.

--

After he’s cleaned them both up—Dream certainly not lifting a finger for any of it—he holds Dream against his chest, Dream with his head tucked under Hob’s chin and one leg slung over Hob’s thigh. Maybe this is one reason he refuses to have an actual pregnant belly. He wouldn’t be able to lie like this comfortably if he did.

He combs his fingers through Dream’s hair, and Dream hums in pleasure, making a low purring sound that rumbles through Hob’s chest. If only it could be like this always, Hob thinks. Or at least, until the baby’s born, and for some time after. Dream doesn’t have to work himself to the bone. He can have this for longer.

“Be sure to stay for a while, yeah?” he says. “Don’t go back right away. Take a nap and then I’ll make you breakfast and— just, you know. Stay.”

Dream doesn’t explicitly agree, but he tucks his nose into the hollow of Hob’s throat. At least it’s quieter here for him, Hob thinks. He needs the peace. Even if it doesn’t last.

“Love you, you know,” Hob says, pressing a kiss into Dream’s hair. “Whatever you decide.” And he holds him long into the morning.

[mandukkul]

TEENAGE ANGST — n. rk

synopsis: you’re suppose to spend yet another birthday alone wallowing in teenage angst, but someone steps in and breaks the cycle

tags: non!idol!riki x f!reader, comfort, angst (not too much i think), a bit of fluff, maybe coming of age

warnings: riki doesn’t appear until like 1/3 into the oneshot, NOT PROOFREAD!!! cursing, angst (i think), spelling and grammatical errors (i wrote tbis at 2am and finshed it at 3 leave me alone), lots and lots of mis-capitalisations, tense errors probably, teenage angst 😰 , let me know if there are any more

word count: 4.7k

published: 13 July

authors note: first writing piece on here, my birthday is on september 8th but i wrote this maybe back in may

You think as a teenager, the worst thing that could affect you was teenage angst. but for you, it would probably be the least of your problems. Instead wallowing like every other teenager before you, locked deep into their rooms never to see the sun until they were 20, you decide it’s better to fix your problem with a day out. 

you’re going to be better than what the stereotype says. I mean who’s better at swimming in your own self pity than yourself of course. Even if your parents had decided that travelling abroad for months on end as a job was better than staying at home in the giant house they bought to live as a family, or leave a teenager alone instead of bringing her along, you won’t let it bother you like it did the previous years. 

Although you couldn’t feel bad, your parents were dreaming big, even if you became merely a side thought in that dream. Any teenager would live blissfully with all the materials you had. It was truly a dream, but a dream can only become reality if you make it. 

You’re not going to think so negatively and say that people around you would rather see you burn than to see you happy, even though that’s exactly what you’re saying. 

You’re a kid with everything you want, but surrounded by other kids who are and have basically the same as you, only with parents in the picture, you’re at bare minimum on the grand scale of things. 

To live your life with no one by your side, unless you count the people who dislike you at school, is harder than you think. 

But you’ve lived your life like this far too long to complain, it’s been routine to be left alone. only now, the difference is that your birthday was today. 

spending what most would say a precious day, in a house so hollow you’d think it was abandoned isn’t exactly ideal.  Being alone could only add to your ever growing list of reasons to angst over. not even you, who seemed accustomed to this trend, would want to be reminded of how alone— lonely— you are. 

so to attempt to turn a new leaf, you urge yourself to spend it differently, you told yourself. straying from your normally secretive emo self, you decide that traveling to the next suburb ,since you heard about a new promotion of the manga you liked being released in a cafe in said suburb, was a good way to ignore your ever piling problems of self-destructive tendencies. 

but oh how the world is against you, even if it is your birthday. 

The bus suddenly needs to take a detour to a different area you’re not too familiar with, then declares that the route must be canceled due to complications leaving you stranded in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. When checking your phone to find where you are, you see that you are not only an hour walk away from your house, but your phone is standing on its last legs with a messily 20%. 

To test your limits further, the sky starts to cry the moment you’re just far enough from your house that running back would do more harm than good. 

you quickly scope your area, finding that there are no parks in the vicinity to offer mercy from the rain, and the closest shelter is either 20 minutes forward to the bus stop or the array of trees planted along the side wall as decorations. 

you way your options, and take the tree closest to you as refuge. you’re glad the area you’ve wandered to is littered with them, even better that they're thick enough to offer some kind of protection. 

minutes passed and the rain hasn’t let up, going at the same harsh rate it has been going at for the past 10 minutes. your clothes, so obviously drenched, weighs you down causing your minimal moves to become sluggish (or maybe it’s the premonition of sickness approaching). 

the trees hang low with despair, mimicking your very attitude. rain licks your face, and you can’t tell whether your tears finally made its greeting or it’s rain getting into your eyes.  

you start to ponder whether running to the back home would be a better idea than your lovely tree, the idea of escaping your rain soaked clothes seeming like a dream as of right now, a dream escaping you the longer you wait. 

you test your already bad luck, because god so obviously has a vendetta against you, deciding your next best option was to end your little escapade and head back home in the rain. 

Barely ten minutes in, with wet sneakers splashing into deep puddles and your clothes glued to you like second skin, the rain starts to roar, angered by your decision apparently. 

your vision can’t help but blur due to the heavy rain clouding your sight, and the hair that stubbornly sticks itself into your forehead and subsequently, your eyes. it’s hazy and you can barely make out the road in front of you, you’re glad the path ahead of you is empty and that you’ve arrived in a more familiar area. 

I guess not even you can escape the clutches of teenage angst, slowing your strides and accepting your fate. 

you think how stupid and cliche you look walking in the rain with a frown. Your feet dragging, now feeling the effects of almost an hour in the rain, and on your birthday of all days. The only thing to complete your look was loud sad emo music. 

stopping in your tracks, letting the rain do what it wants, you begin to think back to what you must’ve done to anger god so much. 

you shut your eyes for just a moment, to shield yourself from rain trying to attack your eyes, but the rain suddenly stops, or more accurately, something is blocking the rain from you. you begin to hear the pitter patter of rain against an umbrella and just for a moment, you think god has found pity in your wallow and granted you mercy. When opening your eyes, low and behold, a black umbrella meets your face. 

oh and there’s Riki, or what he likes to be called, Niki, standing in front of you, holding the umbrella over your head acting as your current saviour. 

so much for God's mercy. 

If your day wasn’t already so bad, you’d say that seeing niki would be the worst part of your day. Unfortunately for you though, it was the best. 

you and niki have never been on the same page, ever since he ‘accidentally’ bumped into you while you were in an empty hall. you had given him many chances to be nice to you, or atleast apologise, but as days passed from the first meeting, all you’ve received was strange stares you know all too well. When confronting him, all he could do is ignore you and or play dumb.  This interaction had left a massive rift between the two of you, and being a not so popular kid  in highschool compared to the ‘king of dance’ was not a good look. 

“why are you trying to be a main character” is the last voice you want to hear from, especially on this joke of a birthday. you crane your neck slightly, meeting face to face with the face you hate (and hate to say is extremely easy on the eyes). “why are you trying to stop my main character moment” you shoot back with equally as much snark, but it comes off weak as you underestimated the sound of rain. 

Niki looks down at you with the same glint in his eye you dislike, not because it was a judgmental one, but one of mystery because you can never guess what he’s thinking. “sorry sorry, should i let you get back to that” he removes the umbrella from above you but you make no attempt to stop him. 

the rain embraces you once again, as harsh it was moments ago. you state a niki again, his dry figure under the comfort of his darken umbrella, staring at you who seemed to be physically separated from him. 

talk about rift. 

you’ve never noticed how far you were from niki, in a metaphorical sense. Niki had everything you had, and more. He had people to talk to, hang out with, care about and care for. He too, probably went through his fair share of teenage angst, but you think to yourself that this is the first (and only) win.  

he sees this and halts his movement, examining your figure deeply. you seem tired. along with the wet suit you’re wearing, and unruly hair dripping at its tips, you look far different to how you present yourself at school. nonchalant and cool, an enigmatic girl who seems to always be out of everyone’s business but as of now, you look (in the nicest way possible) like a train wreck. 

“Are you taking joy out of watching me wallow?” you scoff, staring at him with a distasteful eye, “i’m not a sadist” he jokes but he’s the only one who’s smiling. 

he coughs to clear his throat, or maybe the awkward atmosphere, you’re too tired to care. you watch as he moves the umbrella back under you, “why are you standing in the rain anyways?” he questions. 

“m trying to get home” you whisper loud enough to beat the rain, looking at Niki who’s features seem to fuzz up the more you blink. 

“don’t you live 3 streets away?” he adds, you only nodding in response.

your movements are suddenly too sluggish to call lazy, the effects of an hour in the rain finally hitting you. 

“aren’t your parents worried?” 

probably

“my parents are overseas,” you mumble as he nods knowingly, having his fair shares of travelling parents, although he has his sisters to accompany him, “and i don’t feel like spending my day alone”

birthday 

you think how this is the first real conversation you’ve had with niki, ever since your first encounter. Normally you’d stray away from him, so much as  look in your direction, you’re off to avoid further conflict and instead plan a faux argument comeback for if the day ever arrives. 

you rub your eye to rid the haze that had gotten worse, along with the bodily ache and pounding head. 

niki notices, he always notices you. seeing you off in your own world from a distance. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone laced with concern, or at least that's what you think. He moves his hand to wipe some hair out of your face, attempting to help with your irritable eyes. 

Despite the cold weather, you’re hot to the touch. 

“oh shit, you’re burning up” he goes into mother mode as he touches your forehead, seeing as that’s what his sister and mother do when he has his own fever. you mumble an incoherent response, you’re not sure what you said either. 

“I should get home then” you mumble, stepping away from safety and into the rain. He goes to stop you, but the moment you move you’re in shambles, collapsing into his arms like some damsel in distress. 

oh fuck

…

sometimes you think to yourself, what did you do to end up here? and when i mean here, i don’t mean the literal sense, i mean the place you are in life, because for you, all you seem to do is piss of whoever’s writing your story, because why else would you be living such a shitty (but not enough to outwardly complain) life. 

The second you wake up in bed was your first red flag. the sheets a bluish grey, far different from your own floral white ones. The bed is softer, and the quilt more warm, but that might just be from the sheer exhaustion you exhibited some time ago. 

The next flag was the scary tall silhouette you see entering the room, holding what looks like a black plastic bag filled with various things. 

riki looks much more intimidating when all you can make out is his outline. 

the moment he turns around from shutting the door, he sees your eyes staring at him and the previous blank expression he wore changes into a face of concern. 

“oh you’re awake” he scrambles words together as he stalks up to for bedside, placing the plastic bag beside him as he examines your condition like some kind of doctor. 

“clearly” you croak, and you find out that your voice is extremely hoarse (and sore). 

“try not to speak, i think you have a fever from standing under the rain” he deduces but you can’t help but scoff, “gee, who would’ve guessed”. 

the sick you are even snarky than normal you. 

Niki chuckles at your comment as he shuffles around the plastic bag for a bottle of water and what looks like painkillers. 

you shift your head to watch him as he assorts the medicine and water onto the bedside table, pulling out a small mandarin to complete the collection. 

“What's with the orange?” you whisper, trying to not use your voice too much, “vitamin c” he answers simply and you can’t help but laugh at him. 

you manoeuvre into a sitting position to take what he’s giving you, ignoring the pain striking your head as you do so. 

as you pop pills and chug water, you continue to scan the room. It's pretty boring, with a table with a few pieces of stationary, and a shelf with some personal touches. 

Niki sees you’re so obviously inspecting the room, and coughs up an answer. 

“oh umm- sorry. i didn’t know where you lived and you had passed out and i panicked and brought you to my house” he explains. that explains the strange surroundings. you’re in his room. 

you think about how different his room is to what you originally assumed. no trophies, or obnoxious posters. a very standard and boring room for someone so rich. 

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “i’ll leave you to rest” he starts to get up and you don’t know what has gotten over you, but the moment you see him shift away, you grasp his wrist urging his attention back on you. 

he stares at you intently, as if he’d listen to the hours of silence you’d make if you chose to. 

under his scrutinising gaze, you can’t help but avert your gaze. “I don't want to spend my birthday alone” you unconsciously mumble and you feel pathetic as you hear the words leave your mouth. 

a raging silence fills the room, and your own anxiety gets the best of you as you loosen your grip around his wrist. 

the moment he longer feels your fingers against him, he reaches for you back which surely catches your attention. 

you never had a real interaction with the boy, especially due to the circumstances you (or him) were put through but your distaste for him wasn't baseless, even if your heart felt different. 

Speaking about heart, it was pounding so loudly against your chest, you could’ve sworn Niki would dance to it. 

“It's your birthday?” he’s grip on your hand is gentle, almost delicate as if you’d crack under the pressure of his touch. you nod softly, not facing him but you can tell what he’s thinking. 

you probably seem more like a loser than you already are, you feel like that at least. 

Riki nods his head, gently as to let your eyes follow enough not to be bothered by such movements. He repositions himself beside his own bed, hand still attached to yours. 

you try everything in your power to ignore his riveting gaze, but the awkwardness is much louder than the silence itself. 

you ponder to yourself, if this birthday was one of your best ones or the worse. you silently compare back to when you were six, and everyone and their friends were there. your parents seemed less concerned with otherworldly matters and you focused on nothing but the people around you. 

That was the last time you felt noticed. 

teenage angst must’ve hit you really early, huh? 

then, back to just 14, where it was yet another year alone, with no one at school knowing who you are (yet because the moment you meet riki everything had a turn for the one worse), your parents at god knows where, living their best business lives, and this is your first time spending your birthday alone (first of a few). 

you think how empty your house was, how dark and voided it felt, feeding into your ever growing reasons to angst. 

and now you think of now, despite being ill with a rising fever, you don’t feel as bad as you did back then. you can’t tell if it’s just your delirious mind putting it’s fair share of delusional thoughts into you, or it’s just because you haven’t had company in so long. but the hand wrapped around yours, and the feeling of someone (even if it’s the ever so terrible niki) next you that made you smile. 

“What are you smiling about? Are you going through shock?” niki’s voice is a mixture of playfulness and concern, because even if the chances of you suddenly falling into a seizure is low, it isn’t zero. 

your eyes trail to him, but not to his eyes, you wouldn’t dare look straight at him. 

“I thought it was going to be another bad birthday” you shrug, and you can’t for the life of you, wipe off your smile, not now because Riki finds it in himself to squeeze your hand. 

you expect another remark, because that’s all your conversations seem to be (from the single one you’ve just had earlier) but nothing of the sort came, instead, from the corner of your eyes, you see him smile. 

the nicest type of smile, with his boxy edges, and eyes squeezing softly. 

if you weren’t looking at him before, you are now. 

“I'm glad” that’s all he says, and your heart clenches at something that isn’t depression and anxiety. 

The overwhelming feeling of awkwardness has long dissipated and has been replaced with something else. 

something new. 

you stare intently into his eyes, moreso, he does and you are compelled to look back. He's searching for something, in the darkness of the room it seems like. 

you can barely make out his features, soft eyes, and sharp jaw. his hair perfectly framing his face, to much of your distaste, and is slightly damp probably from just getting back from wherever he went. 

you wonder what’s going inside that head of his, while staring so intently at you, dissecting every little part of you. does he notice the droop of your eyes, how tired you look, how pale your skin has gotten from days locked in your room, how your cheeks never flushed with life yet was always plush to the touch (probably from all the instant food you’ve consumed)

does he notice the teenage angst you wallow in, him probably going through the same trivial problems as you. 

“Sorry you have to spend your weekend with me” you whisper, thinking about all the other things the “king of dance” could be doing instead of nurturing you back to health. 

He’d probably be out with heeseung or jake at the local gaming cafe, laughing and playing. He was probably on his way there if not for running into you. 

you don’t break eye contact so you see how his eyes double in size, quick to shake his head, your own aching from following his movements. “hey don’t say that” he scolds you, taking his other hand to caress yours. 

How intimate does he get?

your skin burns from his touch, and not because your fever is bordering on 39° C. Your eyes tear away, too much of your brains disliking because, even if you dislike him, he’s very nice to look at. 

“no one deserves to spend their birthday alone” and he may be right, but your own angsty self could beg to differ. 

because with the cards dealt to you, and the way you’ve treated the world (because how it treated you) there’s no doubt there’s a love hate (mostly hate) relationship going on between you and life. 

“Even more, now that you’re sick” he adds on, rubbing circles to the back of your hand and you feel comfort for the first time in a while. 

“i guess even someone who hates me can be nice, huh?” you didn't mean to say that out loud, but your quiet voice is too intertwined with your head voice, mixed with the fact that you’re terribly sick, couldn’t tell the difference. 

he stares at you quizzingly, as if you’ve said something so utterly absurd it’s left him speechless. 

“i don’t hate you” 

those words catch you off guard. because the words “don't” and “hate” have never been uttered on the same line with “you” following after it. 

you stay silent. it’s your birthday so of course he wouldn’t uprightly say it to your face. 

“Do you hate me?”

he asks and you take a moment to ponder, about the strange stairs he’s given you, and the amount of times he’s ignored you piled with how everyone at school seems to stray away from you. 

you only hate him because he hates you 

“i only hated you because you hate me”

niki is left truly speechless (in a metaphorical sense), and his jaw is literally cracked wide. 

“what?!? I don't hate you! god! i could never hate you”

like a cringey teenage cliche, you bite your lip holding back an unwanted grin. 

“don’t say the lord's name in vain” you mutter to make light of the situation. 

not having friends didn't mean you weren’t socially inept. 

Your dry chuckle is the only sound left in the room, other than the pattering of rain. riki can’t help but frown at the news he just heard. 

“i’ve never hated you, not for a second”  he looks at you as if he’s trying to convince you, telling you that all your internalised monologues were for nothing, “i just thought… since you were so stand-off-ish, that you just didn't like me” you shrug, averting from his gaze. 

words pour out of you like vomit and you can no longer keep up your enigmatic cool girl facade, not now that you’re sick. 

“not many people like me, so i assume you hate me jusy as much, and well, if you hated me, i figured i should hate you back” 

and you did, well you tried to at least. but in moments like these; where niki holds your hand as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, where his eyes never leave your lips because he’s so set on remembering every little detail you say, afraid your words will be lost to tone. you can’t help but not hate him at all, noy one bit. 

“how could i hate you when you’re just so perfect” he whispers, almost like a confession. 

actually he did confess. to you. right now. 

you owlishly blink, and suddenly think that your beating heart is more serious than your fever. 

you try to snatch your hand away from him, in embarrassment of him feeling how hot you feel, with the tips of your ears flaming red. 

with your averted gaze, it’s not like you can see that his neck has a creeping speck of hot red as well as his cheeks, ears, and everything on him. 

He's so glad it’s dark right now. 

“you can’t just say that, riki” it’s the first time you’ve said his name. 

his name out of your mouth, your tongue, your lips. 

He wants to hear it again. 

“Why not?” he eggs, leaning closer despite the strange territory they’ve suddenly entered. 

“Some people might get the wrong idea” and by some, you mean yourself because even with the minimal things you know about the boy next to you, your heart is fluttering like crazy it makes you want to vomit.

“But I'm not lying, you’re so perfect” Riki reiterates, “you’re so perfect, i’m afraid to even talk to you, or look at you, even be around you” he rambled at the amount of failed attempts to talk to you, caused by his shyness. 

so… everytime you tried to talk to him, walked near him, caught him staring, it was all because of some silly crush?

and now you feel stupid, ontop of your crippling angst, you’ve failed at teenage romance. 

letting out a frustrating sigh, so heavy you might even blow the poor boy away, you drop down ontop your back and whine. 

he’s shocked for a moment, watching you wail with your hands covering your face. 

he finds you so cute, his stomach might because an olympic gymnast at this point. 

riki crawls closer to you, kneeling onto his knees as he gently pries your hand away from your face. “I feel so stupid” you can’t help but utter, eyes shut to avoid his eyes. 

riki grins, leaning closer (not that you could see), “the smartest girl at school? Feeling stupid? That's a first” he jokes and you unintentionally snort out a laugh, “i’m not the smartest” you instantly shoot back, slowly opening your eyes. 

“oh but you are, you’re smart, and beautiful, and mysterious and witty and-“  you rip your hand from his grip to cover his mouth, any more and your ego will start to inflate and be as big as Sunghoon’s. “aish, stop that 

'' You laugh, and you can hear him giggling along. 

“But why? can’t i tell the girl i like how amazingly perfect she is?”

the girl he likes…

the. 

girl

he

likes

IS YOU?

“you like me…” you gape, maybe you are socially inept, or at least, romantically. 

riki laughs, and a hearty one at that. the type of laugh that comes straight from the stomach. “how could anyone not?” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

like the teenage girl you are, you can’t help but feel bubbly and giddy, like the princess in some lame disney movie being swept off her feet by a guy who’s probably way too old for her (funny seeing that riki’s younger than you). 

Then guilt hits you. as much as you want to revel in this blissful joy, you know nothing about riki, and you spent so long hating on him in your head to suddenly switch up. 

“I know nothing about you though…” you break the news to him, “i mean, we technically just had our first real conversation”. 

riki can’t help but smile, even if he’s just been indirectly rejected, your gentleness in letting him down makes him swoon even more. 

“we can get to know each other then” he declares, smiling down at you. 

“But are you willing to wait?” your eyes fill with anticipation, hoping for the best (it is your birthday after all), and wonder for the first time in forever, smiling from ear to ear.

“for you, i’d wait a thousand years” 

if what he said before wasn't swoon worthy, this definitely was. 

you feel like one of his silly fangirls that wait outside of class, giggling at his stupid smile but this time, you know you’re the cause of it. 

“Are you going to start singing Christina Aguilera now?” you joke, giggling quietly to yourself. “I mean you should, since it’s my birthday after all” oh what a good birthday it was. 

“anything for my birthday girl” Seeing your smile stretch for the first time, he hopes he’d be seeing that everyday in the near future.

Riki looks at you, for what feels like the millionth time. He really looks at you, like he did at school, like he did on the street in the rain, and like he does now. 

and he thinks to himself:

yeah, I can definitely wait.

authors note pt.2: as you can see i write a lot for riki (my bias) mostly because i have so many wips that i s decided to release 🤭 might accept request who knows. also if you have any tips on how to write or do a layout please pm!!!!

[cutecatlov3r]

my character ai bots:

haikyuu:

atsumu miya:

your annoying ass roommate- atsumu answered the door, in his boxers. his hair was all messy, sweat ran down his face lightly. “who are ya?”

he’s drunk- “‘m… Atsumu Miya. yer really pretty ya know? im a er- marine biologist” he slurred. “man shut up, you play volleyball!” one of his friends interrupted. “tch! shuddup, will ya?! tryna act cool!”

kotaro bokuto:

emo mode- “im so stupid…everyone should just stop passing the ball to me!!” he announced, sulking.

he’s spiderman- all was well until he took a glance out the window, seeing a villain. “crap! I-i mean uh I gotta go run to the bathroom!”

your his fan- after the game, you walked down and greeted him, asking to sign your shirt, sheepishly.

koshi sugawara:

he’s your son’s teacher- you walked into the classroom, hugging your boy, the teacher smiled at you. “ah, are you his sister?” he asked, kindly.

he’s jealous- “what were you and hinata talking about?” he asked, his voice sounding innocent. but his hand tightened on your thigh just a bit.

your his coworker- “let me help you” he went behind you, his body pressing against your back, one arm grabbing the item, other grazing your hip.

shoyo hinata:

he hit you w a ball- “are you okay? I’m sorry hehhhh, I didn’t see where I was landing my spike” he extended his hand out to you, sheepishly.

he can fix you- “you’ve been running from love your whole life. give me one chance and I promise that I can make the pain better” he had your hands in his, looking with pleading eyes.

he got sick- …it was a sad moment for the karasuno team. shoyo got sick in the middle of a game and their team had lost the chance to win nationals. he may only be a first year and he will have more chances to win but he wanted to with this year really bad.

kenma kozume:

streaming wars- you and him are friends, having a little rivalry when it comes to being liked in the gaming community. only for views, not really hating each other.

rivals- as soon as Kenma met you he despised you. he couldn't stand you, all he wanted was to sit in peace. usually he doesn't mind being around loud people but you... he never wanted to be around you.

he hates brats- right now you two were getting ready to record, you whined the whole time as he was fixing the camera. he rolled his eyes. he put his hand over your mouth, other gripping your hair tightly. “can you just shut the hell up?”

cat hybrid- walking along the streets at night it was pouring rain. you sighed, walking in the rain, forgetting your umbrella at work. while walking you hear something. “meow”

tetsuro kuroo:

helping you study- he hits your head with the rolled newspaper article again. this has been going on ever since you went over to his home an hour ago. “wrong answer”

hajime iwaizumi:

scolding you- “i told your dumbass he was bad news, you never wanna listen to me” he reminded, shrugging his shoulders, looking as you packed you ex boyfriend’s things.

yuu nishinoya:

he’s drunk- “noooo because likeeeee why the hell was I sooo delusional? i never had a chance with kiiiyoko *hic* she was always gonna be tanaka’s girl” he slurred, laughing.

keiji akaashi:

he loves feeding you- he grabs your chin, prying your mouth open with his thumb, feeling your soft lips. “eat”

the pretty setter- you were watching the volleyball game of your school, fukurodani. while watching, you saw the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen.

kei tsukishima:

he hates you(?)- you and Tsukishima weren’t even friends. he didn’t like you… he thought your attractiveness was annoying. when he kissed you a few months ago it was off to you. then when you woke up in his bed almost every weekend. if he hated you so much why did he sleep with you?

toru oikawa:

kageyama tobio:

osamu miya:

guys I will be adding more soon, please leave some suggestions tho ! <3

[not-5-rats]

bodie, marco and/or timmy headcannons? maybe?

Hmmm okay, a please would be nice though /j, you didn't specify what kind of hcs sooooo you're getting silly ones :3

!!!Nonsense Gator Boys HCs ^^!!!

Bodie:

He is the only one that can navigate the swamps, nobody else has any clue where they're going

His posture is...not amazing, he's so used to bending down slightly when around Timmy...his posture has never been the same

He enjoys cooking with people, it's a nice way to spend time together

Dude would love Paddington, I feel no need to elaborate

An issue he has is his willingness to put others' needs above his own, it came out slightly when Bug arrived with their injured leg but it becomes very obvious when somebody he cares for is ill. He won't sleep, or look after himself properly because he needs to ensure they're doing alright.

He's fully prepared to die in the arena, he couldn't stand losing anybody else atp...he's ready to throw himself in dangers way at a seconds notice if it means everyone else will be alright

I don't think he could live with himself if he let anybody else die in the arena...if he lost the only people he had left, he'd probably lose himself as well

He has a vast knowledge on which fungi are edible and which aren't

Timmy:

Lost. He's constantly loosing his path, but he always finds his way back in the end

He spends most of his time climbing, whether it be trees, vines, piles of rocks, anything

Adding on to my last point, if you & him were together he would randomly drop from the trees and give you a lil kiss on the forehead/ cheek

Floor time - y'know when you're super burnt out and lie on your back, on the floor, just lie there for a few hours? Yeah that's Timmy

He doesn't always properly analyse the risks of certain activities, luckily he's nimble enough to often get out of these tight situations but he's received a couple injuries due to his impulsiveness

He's so overwhelmed right now, what the fuck is going on with his life. His parents are alive, his mother's a dragon, he's part dragon, Bodie's his uncle...everything is suddenly so different...he feels...lost

At points he wishes the Hunters had just went through with killing him when they found him...things would've been so much simpler then

He makes friendship bracelets, like the bead ones, he puts people's names on them

Marco:

Enjoys the rain, idc what you say, they're a rain lover

Why is Marco fruity? I can't quite put my finger on what type of fruit, but like...undeniably some sort of queer (I love them)

They would have had such an intense emo phase (which then evolved into kinda gothic adult)

They have like a mini museum in their bag, so many random things from such odd places, it's admirable

They could have stopped this from happening. Well maybe they could have, if they were around more maybe there was something they could have done that would've stopped Timmy from being taken...stopped this whole mess from happening

The guilt. It's fucking unbearable. Why did they constantly have to be gone, why couldn't they just stick around for 5 bloody minutes!

They want to change, they want to be there for their friends...but at this point, they feel like it's too late. Bodie and Timmy are so close and now it's revealed they're actually related!...is there even space for Marco anymore...are they even wanted at this point?

They like frogs

[stephaniebrownslover]

My Immortal(Worst Fanfic Ever) From Toby's POV

We're in an offical cringe fight with @skullcfusher I told you to not push me because I would do this and post it. Now eat it up.

AN: Special fangz (get it, coz Im goffik) 2 my gf (ew not in that way) raven, bloodytearz666 4 helpin me wif da story and spelling. U rok! Justin ur da luv of my deprzzing life u rok 2! MCR ROX!

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Hi my name is Toby Rogers Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have emo style raven hair (that’s how I got my cheek scar) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-neck and stone cold brown eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Greg Heffley (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire proxy but my teeth are straight and white and I hate Slenderhoe. I have pale gray skin. I’m also a witch bitch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m an emo (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I wasn't very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

“Hey Toby!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. Jeff Da Griller!

“What’s up Jeffery?” I asked.

“Nothing.” he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

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AN: IS it good? PLZ tell me fangz!

[skyisntthere]

When I'm ready, It'll be you.

Sebastian SDV X G/N Reader

warnings; Mentions of cheating, Angst (with fluff at the end). if i missed any let me know!

Plot; You caught your boyfriend from Zuzu city cheating on you so you went home to pelican town to be comforted by your best friend Sebastian

Word count; around 900!

a/n; Heya! its my first fanfic on tumblr, honestly a little nervous about this. please feel free to request or ask me a question, always happy to talk!!

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There were tears running down your face, luckily the rain covered it up. You knew you would get sick if you stayed out but who cared? You certainly did not after all he broke your heart. 

Was it silly that you thought something was going great in your life for him to rip it away so easily, like those months, years meant nothing to him at all. Now you were waiting, just patiently waiting for someone to say ‘I told you so’ making you feel like the town's clown, a laughing stock. 

You knew it wouldn't work really, moving to pelican town while he stayed in Zuzu city. He promised he stayed for work when you knew it was for her as why else would she be in his bed when you arrived on your visit. Now you were at the top of the mountains standing, looking down at the clouds of mist covering Pelican town wishing, praying someone wouldn't notice. Who goes out in the rain anyways? 

You wanted to scream, to yell as loud as you could until your lungs bled. “Hey” you jumped as Sebastian appeared out of nowhere. For ages you tried to convince the emo guy to get out his basement and the one time he did, you wish he didn't. You couldn't look at the man next to you wishing he would get the hint and leave. “What are you doing out in the rain?” He asked, you stayed staring, you loved your friend but you told yourself you didn't need him now, even though you needed him more than ever. 

You and Sebastian just clicked when you met him, you respected his work and often hung out with him and his group of friends, if life was a game you would have a full bar of friendship with the guy. He was your best friend, the one that makes living here worth it. “Are you ignoring me?” Sebastian looked down at the ground thinking what he's done wrong. You looked at him, if it was possible you felt your heart hurt more. 

Sebastian looked at you studying your facial expressions, your eyes lost the shine they once had, you looked tired… hurt. “What happened?” He asked. “Why are you crying? Are you home sick, i can take you-” you shook your head. “No! No, I just got back” You managed to spit out. “Right, let's have a cigarette, a moment to calm down and then you're telling me all about it” Sebastian offered you a cigarette which you accepted. Lighting the cigarette you inhaled the smoke in. When you exhaled the smoke you felt like you were watching the pain disappear with the comfort of your best friend.   

It was quiet, all you heard was rain hitting the ground, you could tell Sebastian regretted not bringing out an umbrella but you knew it wouldn't be long till you headed to his room. When the two of you finished your cigarettes he softly took your hand and dragged you towards his house. He knew you would try to sneak away, you were stubborn and thought you could handle everything on your own. You went down to his room, he gave you a pair of clothes and disappeared. 

You debated getting changed but you did not want to upset your best friend. After a while of waiting for him he came back down with two mugs of coffee. You smiled as you took it, as he sat next to you on his sofa. Sebastian stayed silent as he knew in your own time you would open up. He wasn't one to rush you and it was one of your favourite things about him. 

“He cheated on me Seb” You muttered it was more like a whisper. “He did what?” Sebastian said in shock. “What a jerk? I feel like taking my motor-" Sebastian caught himself quickly and looked at you, as you looked down at your cup he lifted your chin with his finger. “Hey, He’s not worth it!” He looked softly at you. “He never deserved you anyway and now you never need to go back there” you nodded. He was right, no more wasting money on trips or begging people to help with the farm work while you were gone. 

You started to feel better at the same time noticing the physical contact Sebastian did, you felt your cheeks burn a little as Sebastian was known for the lack of emotions. “Besides, I know it's early but there are some fine people here ya know” He piped up… was he talking about himself? The feelings you buried deep down for your best friend started to rise up. “Yeah I suppose so… wanna set me up with sam?” you tried holding in your laughter but it failed and you both were laughing. It was nothing against Sam, but he wasn't exactly your type. “Thanks Seb” Sebastian smiled back as thunder echoed from outside. “You can stay here if you want, I can sleep on the sofa” He said calmly, acting like he wasn't mentally throwing a party as his soulmate was now single, but this is Sebastian, he would wait a million years for you.  

As you looked at the time on your phone you agreed to staying, it was already pretty late anyways. You and Sebastian spoke for hours. He then asked if you wanted to watch some movie he had and you agreed. You sat next to him on his bed and started watching the movie. As you two were watching the movie you rested your head on his shoulder and your eyelids began to close, Sebastian noticed you were asleep and put his head on yours, after the movie ended he lightly kissed your head and moved to the sofa to get some sleep. 

You weren't ready for someone else, but you knew when you were, it would be him. It would always be Sebastian.

[mrs-avenger3000]

Oh Bite Me 🙄 pt3

Pair: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

High school AU

Word count: 3420

Summary: As the youngest Stark, sister to the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist himself, Tony Stark Y/n… she has her father's brains and her mother's compassion. Her brain is what landed her in close quarters with Wanda Maximoff, an emo teen who’s struggling to keep her grades up after the loss of her brother. The two of them soon come to realise that being just friends isn’t something they want to do, but can they push their pride aside and admit they feel for each other?

Please do not copy my work or repost with the intent to take ownership of my work :) Feedback is as always welcome as are re-blogs, comments and likes

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Her smooth hands slid slowly up your body. You leaned into her touch. Her soft lips placed hot kisses across your stomach. You but your lip your core was now throbbing with anticipation as she kissed your lower stomach moving to your thighs. She bit down harshly on your thigh causing you to jerk up a small cry leaving your lips.

“Careful now, someone might just hear you.” She taunted her eyes sparkling with mirth. You glared at her.

“Shut up you-”

Your words died on your tongue as she pressed her thumb onto your clit through your soaked panties. She was looking you straight in the eyes daring you to deny her. And her touch.

You bit your lip not saying anything. She chucked.

“That desperate for me are you? You usually have such an opinion.” She smirked. Your hands gripped the sheets tighter. She leant up placing a burning kiss to your lips. Her tongue invaded your mouth, she tasted so sweet. Like honey. You groaned as she gripped your hair pulling your head back. She bit down on your bottom lip causing a whimper to fall from your lips.

“Oh baby, you look so pretty right now.” She whispers nibbling on your earlobe.

“Please.” You whisper a burning need ripping through your body. Her hand enclosed around your throat and she smirked.

“Wanda!” You gasped as she slipped her fingers into you. You moaned softly.

-/-

Your eyes snapped open and you sat upright your heart was pounding in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick pants. Your mind was reeling, your body was still sensitive from such an intrepid dream. You sighed bringing your hand to your lips still feeling Wanda’s scorching kiss.

What the hell.

“Why did I just-” you stopped and glanced at the clock.

06:05 am

You sighed deciding to get up. Walking to the shower you turned on the water. You loved your shower time. The feeling of the water as it rained down above you. The jets were your favourite part. The pressure managed your body removing any kinks from your sleep. The water was on its hottest temperature the condensation steaming the room. The glass walls were hard to see through and you washed your hair stopping to draw little hearts on the door.

You closed your eyes letting the heat warm your body. Your mind wandered back to the dream. The way Wanda’s hands felt roaming your skin, they way her lips felt as they lowered down your stomach and the way her lips felt on your neck. Your stomach tightened desire pooling into you.

She was captivating in your dream. The burning desire in her eyes, the smirk on her lips. She was stunning. Both in dreamland and in real life.

You quickly finished you’re shower banishing Wanda from your mind. You were going to go the simple route and avoid her until the embarrassment of your dream left you and you locked it away in your mind never to be thought of again.

You dressed and styled your hair into a plait that started at the side of your head and fell over your left shoulder.

Pulling out your phone you sent a quick text to Yelena and Kate asking if they wanted to go to the café before school. Both agreed and you went off to pick them up.

You pulled up outside the café and Kate and Yelena rushed to be out first and in the line. “Stop shoving!” Yelena snapped her Russian accent thick with annoyance. Kate scowled shoving her again.

“Stop shoving.” She mocked feigning Yelena’s accented. You chuckled at the two of them rolling your eyes at their childishness.

“Sweethearts calm down, we’ll all get a turn.” You cooed mockingly. Yelena sneered at you.

“This annoyance is on you.” She points towards Kate. Kate scowled crossing her arms over her chest.

You got to the counter and smiled at the cashier. She was about your age, she had white blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and light pink lips. “Hi what can I get you?” She smiled brightly. The intensity of her smile made heat crawl up your neck.

“Hi- um can I get a large skinny vanilla latte please.” You say with a smile.

“Of course, anything else?”

You pondered the sweet treats section and decided to get something. “And an apple turnover please.” You say. She nodded and you waited for her to collect your items.

“That’ll be $6.99, please.” She said.

You nodded and paid. You, Yelena and Kate walked to a booth and the three of you sat down. “So how are the sessions with Wanda going?” Yelena asked. You sighed. “She giving you trouble?!” Yelena said quickly a fierce protectiveness burning in her eyes. You smiled shaking your head.

“No, she’s actually been very engaged, she’s improving!” You say with a grin. Yelena glanced over at Kate a knowing look in her eyes.

“Well that’s good then, I suppose I don’t have to beat her up.”

You laughed. “Beat who up?” You heard a voice say. Her voice.

You turned and your breath caught in your chest. “Wanda. Hi.” You breathed. She looked down at you her eyes burning your skin as she trailed her eyes down your form.

“Sleep well? You look a little… tired?” She says concern creasing her brow. Your cheeks flushed the dream you had of Wanda came bursting back into your mind. You lowered your gaze taking a sip of your coffee.

“Uh, actually, I didn’t get much sleep.” You admit, her lips quirked up.

“Hmm.” Was all she said.

You eyed her suspiciously but she walked to sit down next to cait. “So what are you guys doing here?” She asked her eyes still on me.

“Just came to chill before school, no specific reason.” Kate says beaming.

You nod not able to look into Wanda’s eyes. The dream was burning through your making you feel all kinds of warm. Wanda was smirking like she knew why you were so flushed.

“Well, it was nice seeing you here, Y/N I’ll see you at your place for our session. Tony’s back today, did you know?” She asked. You looked up and nodded. Your brother had texted you this morning letting you know he’d be back, with gifts.

“Yeah, he tell you about the party he’s hosting at the tower?” You say.

She nodded. “Yeah you going?” She asked standing up, leaning against the side of the booth.

“Yeah I have to. Yelena and Kate are going too, I think Nat will be there. I know Steve will be.” You say. She nods.

“Well then, I’ll look forward to seeing you there…” she says here eyes boring into mine. “All of you.” She says offering a grin to the rest of the crowd. Yelena and Kate smiled back. Wanda walked past you her scent wrapping around you, the sweet scent of her perfume. It was refreshing, cool, exotic and it made your heart beat faster.

This infatuation was dangerous.

The way her eyes lit you on fire, the way her smile made your heart beat quickly, the way her lips curved when she’d deliver a snarky comment.

You swallowed rubbing a hand over your face. “Shall we get going?” Kate says checking the time. You nodded.

The three of you walked back towards the car. Something caught your attention and you looked over. Wanda was leaning against her car a girl had her hand on the car next to Wanda’s head. Wanda was leaning into her, judging from the smirk on her face she knew this girl and they were… friendly. Wanda placed a hand on the girls waist, her other hand twirling a strand of her dark hair.

You looked away anger building in your chest. The was she was smiling at the girl, the way she was touching her made you angry beyond reason. You opened the car door and clenched your jaw. You glanced back over one last time before getting in the car. You slammed the door and angrily started the car.

Without a word you left the café your mood was sour. An indescribable feeling has taken up your stomach every time you think of Wanda your stomach tightens.

“Hey are you okay? You’ve been quite all morning.” Kate asked linking her arm through yours. You looked up at her and smiled.

“I’m good, just tired today.” You say. It wasn’t a lie. You were tired but you were also annoyed at Wanda. Not for any valid reason. She was allowed to be with whoever she wants to be. You guys weren’t a thing nor would you ever be.

So why did her hands on another girl make your stomach tighten almost painfully?

Soon enough school had ended. Usually this time of day would excite you, but the thought of seeing Wanda after today made your body fill with anxiety.

Getting home you at least had a distraction. Tony was sitting at the kitchen island eating from a box. You grinned running up to him. He opened his arms and you through your arms around him. “How was your trip?!” You asked with a grin. He smiled down at you.

“It was great. I got some very needed me time.”

“Us time.” Pepper called out causing Tony to smirk.

“Why of course dear.” He smirked.

You hugged Pepper and she squeezed you tightly. “Have fun without us?” She grinned.

“Oh yeah! I had so many wild parties, you’re lucky you didn’t get here till the afternoon. It was a wreck this morning.” You joke. She chucked at you.

“You’re funny.” Tony declared with an eye roll.

“Well I’m going to freshen up. I’ll be back down in a few.” He nodded.

You rushed upstairs and hopped in the shower. You threw on an oversized hoodie and some shorts and pinned back your wet hair. Grabbing your notes you walked back downstairs, surprised to see Wanda at the table talking to your brother. The rush of emotions you felt whilst looking at her was overwhelming. You haven’t seen her since the café. You avoided her in school and had managed to escape her gaze in class.

You announced your presence by dropping your bag next to the sofa. The room turned to look at you and you nodded politely. “Wanda’s here because I have to tutor her.” You say to Tony. He nods.

“I know. She said. We were just discussing the party tonight, you’re still coming right?” He asked. You shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“You said you were this morning? Change your mind so soon?” She teased. You cast her an icy gaze and she frowned.

“Yep.” Was all you said as you settled down throwing your notes on the table.

“What’s your issue?” She asked.

“Let’s get started.” Was all you said. She slowly approached her shoes clicking off the tiles. She sat down next to you not as close as she usually did. You noticed the absence of her proximity immediately.

You knew you were being mean and you had absolutely no reason to be. You were being stupid. “Did I do something?” She asked in a whisper. You looked at her anger glistening in your gaze.

“No.”

“You’re mad.” She states.

“How’s your girlfriend?” You asked calmly. She frowned.

“Girlfriend? What?”

“This morning against your car, very classy by the way. You two seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.” You say, trying to remove all emotion from your tone. Wanda’s eyes widened. She then frowned.

“That- why are you bothered, jealous?” She asked her eyes sparkling. You scoffed.

“As if.”

“You sure, you sound pretty jealous.” She says shifting so you were closer. Your eyes darted over to the kitchen where Tony was. He was working with his back to you. Wanda leaned forward her breath fanning against your ear. “Which part made you jealous? When I did this?” She asked reaching up her fingers skimmed your neck causing your heart to pound and body erupt in goosebumps, heat sizzled where she touched. Her eyes were teasing but there was an intensity in them. She wrapped her fingers around a lock of your hair as she did with the girl this morning. “Or this?” She breathed her other hand falling to your hip squeezing it. “Or maybe when she did this,” she said her voice just above a whisper, she leaned in her nose skimming the skin of your neck. You had stopped breathing. She was so close to you. Close enough that if you just lent forward the tiniest bit your lips would be touching. She was toying with you and she was enjoying it.

Well. Two can play at that game.

You lifted your head your hand coming to cup the back of her neck. Your fingers slid into Wanda’s hair and you tugged her head back slightly. Your lips hovered over hers. She was breathing heavily, her eyes widen in shock as you came so close your lips brushed hers as you spoke. “Don’t flatter yourself Maximoff, your ego is big enough.” You smirk.

“You know what else is big?” She smirked.

“Your imagination by the sounds of it. Me? Jealous? Funny.” You say pulling back and casting her a cold look. She only stared at you. Her tongue darted out as she licked her lips.

“Cute.”

“You going to be able to focus or do you need to cool down.” You teased running a finger down her neck. She shoved your hand away and scowled. You didn’t miss the way she clenched her thighs and fists at your touch.

✨✨✨✨

Your dress clung to you in all the right places. The black satin material felt like a second skin it was so tight. You loved how sexy the dress made you feel, how tall the heels made you look, how big your breasts looked in the dress. You loved everything about this outfit from the shoes to the diamond earrings you were wearing. You clasped a gold heart necklaces around your neck and sprayed some perfume on yourself. You dabbed it behind your ears, and on your wrists.

Looking in the mirror you grinned. Your hair was curled and you had light make up on, your favourite was the winged eyeliner, the contrast made you look sharp, fierce.

You grabbed your phone and your bag and headed out.

Pepper, Tony, Steve and Nat were all in the living room when you made your entrance. Tony’s face simmered with disapproval. Steve smiled. “You look lovely Y/N.” He said and you smiled.

“Why mince words Cap, she looks sexy.” Nat smirked. You winked and did a twirl to which she responded with a low whistle before you both started laughing.

“I do not like this.” Tony muttered. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah well I don’t like you.” You replied feigning to pick dirt from your nails. He stalked over to you and you quickly rushed away hiding behind Natasha. “Leave my hair alone.” You say pointing a long finger at him. He only smirked in response.

Once that was over the five of you headed to the limo.

“How’s the tutoring with Wanda going?” Pepper asked as you all got situated in the back of the limo. Tony was handing out glasses of champagne and you took one gleefully.

Your eyes fell back on pepper. She was wearing a beautiful navy spaghetti strap dress that fitted her body well extenuating her feminine curves. “It’s going.”

“Why so glum?” Steve asked.

“I forget sometimes that not everyone understands things the way we do,” you say casting a glance to your brother. “She’s a good student, I just feel like I should be making it easier for her.”

“If you don’t fail you’re not learning.” Pepper smiled.

“I know but sometimes I feel like I’m pushing her too hard. She doesn’t need to excel only pass.” You say contemplating your teaching methods.

“Is she struggling with it?” Nat asked. You shrug.

“Some parts, but she’s truly great when she understands it. You should see how proud she gets when she gets the answers right. She gets that cute little proud smile and it’s all she talks about after.” You say smiling at the find memory.

Natasha tilted her head to the side and smirked a glint in her eyes. “I see. Well if she doesn’t complain and isn’t struggling to bad I don’t see why you should dumb it down for her. Just give her time to understand and things will go smoothly.” Nat said and you nodded.

The party, unlike the one you threw was extravagant. Elegant ice sculptures were dotted around the room, tables filled with party favours, ballooned arches delicate designs were strewn around the room and it was rammed. Your eyes widened in awe as you took in the room. Tony led your group to the rest of the Avengers. Clint and Bruce were engaged in conversation with Bucky as they all sat around a glass table. When you guys approached they all stood welcoming you all. You grinned as Bucky hugged you. “You look delicious, doll.” He whispered and you blushed stepping away.

“Thank you.” You say. You felt arms slip around your waist and you turned swiftly to see Yelena. You smiled.

“Hey gorgeous.” She placed a kiss on your cheek.

“Hey- I have to-”

Your eyes wondered behind her and saw Wanda. Your heart fluttered into a quickened pace. She was wearing a tight red dress, almost as bright as her magic. Her eyes had a Smokey eye effect and eyeliner to make her seem that much more fierce. Her look was completed with heels and her usual smirk. You started to walk over to her when you saw the girl from the café. She appeared and wrapped her arms around Wanda’s neck. She pulled her into a deep kiss. Wanda responded quickly. Her hands gripping the girls waist.

You felt as if the breath had been knocked out of you. You felt like… like you wanted to beat that girl into the ground for putting her lips on Wanda. But the rational side of your brain prevented that. Wanda wasn’t yours.

Yelena placed her hand on your shoulder. You turned and she was giving you a knowing look. “That what I was going to tell you.” She said apologetically. You wiped your face of any emotion and shrugged.

“She can so whatever or whoever she likes.” You say with a mask of indifference on your face. She squeezed your shoulder and you smiled.

You held your head high and went back over to the others. You stood in front of Bucky. “Room to sit?” You say with a smirk. He gestured to his lap.

“Seats all yours.” He said jokingly. You smiled and say down. You threw your one leg over the other so you were cross legged on his lap. He stiffened in shock. You grabbed his beer from his hand and took a sip.

“You don’t mind do you?” You ask and he coughs clearing his throat.

“Not at all, Doll.” You grinned at him.

“Brill.” You say as you brig the bottle up to your lips. You took a swig never breaking eye contact with him. He swallowed nervously.

You heard a voice clear.

You turned your face looked at the noise. “Maximoff.”

“Stark.” She said her eyes boring holes into you.

“Enjoying the party?” She says. You lean forward so she gets a delicious view of your cleavage and grab a bottle from the ice bucket on the table.

“I’m definitely enjoying the company.” You say raising a brow.

She looked between you and Bucky. Her eyes were hiring with annoyance. The red wisps were present in her heated gaze. “Can we talk? Privately?”

You stand and walk towards her a feline smirk on your lips. You reach her and then turn to Bucky. “No, I’m going to dance. Care to join me?” You say to Bucky. He smirks and stands up. Wanda goes to reach for you but you quickly evade her. You lean into her ear. “She seems like a good kisser, you should go join your date.” You say venomously. Her eyes widened.

“You saw?”

“I’m not blind.”

With that Bucky’s had wrapped around your waist and the two of you left to dance. Leaving Wanda staring at the two of you in a quiet rage.

✨✨✨✨

Tag list

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[kkl1nch0r]

title: woes of an immortal (blade x gn!reader)

angst. this is angst guys. i was feeling emo. please don't come for my throat if your soul is shattered like mine was when I typed in the last words LOL!

-------

Since when did once an abomination seek and find its inner beauty?

Since when did a monster find their claws worthy and able to cradle the body of their dead love gently?

Since when did a beast, its fangs eternally stained with the slaughterous voices of its sin, bound and sliced cleanly from its vices, learn to find itself worthy of affection?

Blade was the first to be.

Once his weary eyes, deprived of desire, gazed into yours– the savage tamed by the saint– everything prior to his misery (as well the whole of his suffering) had been snuffed out. Much like the blowing out of a candle with its constant need to burn, all there was left was the stub of wax. Unhealed scars, bleeding wounds, a wailing soul.

I’ve changed, repeated the immortal abomination. I’ve changed.

You had held his cold cheek firmly and told him things you alone cannot remember– only a man who had lived so mundanely could recall the very words you had uttered.

But at the merciless hands of death, who can blame for one to forget? Even those who have lived with such purpose and ambition cannot remember every word they have spoken on their deathbed.

Your deathbed was his lap, your pillows were his trembling hands, and your last breath was just as shaking as his. Your vision faded, coming into focus to see blades ugly ass eye sigh this is shit

I bring misery, he says, his voice sounding like a cry heard from the other side of a wall. I have brought this upon you.

“Do not blame yourself,” you whisper, and he begins to cry– it's a mourning howl. He’s wailing; there are no signs of him stopping, as his tears come down upon your face like rain. A scarred, quivering hand clutches yours, and your heart breaks– as much as you wish to squeeze back reassuringly, there is no strength left in your body to reciprocate his gesture. No more energy to dispel his worries.

Blade tires himself out by crying; he lets out a choked sob, having lamented so hard his voice is broken, scattered like his essence. He had been begging for death just then; why did he wish for life now?

“Blade,” you whisper weakly, and it brings another wave of sobs. Blade doesn’t know he torments you with his sorrow. You lie in his arms helplessly as the man strangles himself with his cries.

Oh, it sounds so sad. So terrible, to know that you are about to pass on and he, immortal as he is, can do nothing about it– can do nothing about his death, nor yours, and can only watch as time flies by; to wait for a person who will never come back, nobody to answer his calls. Nobody to return to; nobody to look for in the bustling crowds of the Xianzhou.

Nobody to confide in, love, protect– Blade brings your hand to his lips– a gentle kiss placed on your knuckles as you manage a weak smile, lifting your hand to hold his cheek. He so desperately presses into your touch, tears trickling down his cheeks, barely able to hold back his grieving cries.

“You…” Swallowing thickly, you try to form a coherent sentence. “You haven’t changed.”

Not one bit? Blade asks sadly, pressing his lips against the palm of your hand. The shake of your head answers him, and Blade breathes in deeply, but it hitches, and he shakes with an effort to control his silent crying.

“Not one bit,” You reply with effort, and it's surprising how such a simple phrase seems to take the breath from you. Blade nods, and you exhale resignedly, bits of the world blurring into one. They say death is peaceful, but the man looking at you tells you otherwise.

“Remember me,” You say finally, and the last fragmented vision of Blade’s face blurs into nothing. Your body scatters, fading to ashes of what remains:

You are the ghost of a memory– sometimes Blade will see your figure standing in the midst of a parting crowd– there are times when you are there and moments when you aren’t. As Blade gazes at his empty, bloody hands, he begins to wonder if you were merely a fleeting dream.

But there is nothing he can do to change about it. And so his piercing wail reaches the sky, the rumble of thunder in the rushing of gray clouds, the rain purging the very essence of what made up just a fraction of his life.

Never has Blade felt so insignificant, as he recalls the words you had whispered once before.

I’ve changed, he’d repeat. I’ve changed.

You are just the same, you had said. When one’s life changes, the soul remains as is. You are better now– better, but just the same.

Blade kneels in the dirt.

Just the very same, Blade thinks, but without you, I feel truly different.

[invisibows]

YES OFC!!!

im copypasting this one from my friends dms

i just. i dunno domestic tacomic during the fall has me emotional fsr. because domestic tacomic is just taco…learning how to live again. but i think it gets more emotional during the colder months because thats where taco faced the most hardship in the woods. she no longer has to save up food or scavenger in freezing weather, theres just warm food waiting for her. she doesnt have to gather up s bunch of leaves to use as some semblance of warmth, she has a warm bed with blankets. she doesnt have to stay in a cave when it rains or storms, shes now in a warm house. and mic introduces her to all the fall norms, getting pumpkin spice lattes, wearing sweaters, carving pumpkins for halloween. mic buys a bucket of candy on halloween and for the first time in her life taco makes a child happy by giving out candy. she cried a lot that night as mic held her. taco had to apple pick a lot during her time in the woods so when she sees theres places dedicated to just apple picking for fun shes so shocjed. she stands ontop of mic to grab the apples. and taco after all of this. just doesnt think she deserves it. she has so many opportunities and with her favorite girl in the world no less. its just so much happiness and pain im so emo,,,, sorry i love them,,

^^^ quick doodle of taco being given a psl (is that what they're called) for probably the first time

i don't know what they taste like but i find it funny to imagine that when taco drinks sweetened beverages (i think they're sweet idk) she's so shocked that her voice goes back to how it sounded back in season one

AWHHSHHSJHSJJS man i snanbanaaand snaim somssns /pos gosh i love them sm this hurts rrhrhhgbgbgb oh this is such an interesting thought

[mia-does-nonsense]

Walkis headcanons b/c my brain won't shut up:

At first glance, their fancy uniforms are simultaneously cool and stupid. Like, those guys are probably dying during the summer (except for Kenny).

But from the brief shot we got in the manga of their school, I think Walkis is situated in a gloomy, cold-ass mountain area, and a good distance away from civilization like any emo school. Cloudy all the damn time and probably rains a lot too. The uniforms would at least have some practical use to keep the students from getting chilly.

Most, if not all, of the Walkis student body and faculty come from nobility and wealth, so it's kind of impossible to not have a reputation while attending. Like, "That's so-and-so from x family who does y at the Bureau of Magic" and whatnot, which will either make somone's life at Walkis a lot smoother or a lot harder.

The rigorous academics and competitiveness between dorms, years, individual students, new money vs old money, etc makes the shit that goes down at Easton look tame. Students like Finn and Lemon - who are average in academics and/or who come from lower/middle class families - will absolutely not survive there in the metaphorical sense...

...and likely also in the literal sense. Walkis is dangerous. When your parents are politicians, nobles, and just powerful people in general, school rules and even the law itself are merely suggestions. At Easton, the Magia Lupus kidnapped students, nearly stole Lemon's magic permanently, and didn't care about heavily injuring people, and then there's Carpaccio who was stabbing people left and right at the DV exam. Now multiply that by 10, and you'll have an idea what Walkis is like.

A good portion of the students are double-liners, and it's not uncommon to resort to underhanded tactics to get by, not to mention classes are highly advanced and deal with dangerous magic spells, potions, creatures, and such. If you're strong and influential enough to get away with it, you will almost certainly get away with it. If you don't, it's probably only because there was someone stronger than you to put you in your place.

Power is everything in Walkis, after all. And it got worse once Levis and Domina enrolled...

Of course, faculty tries their damn best to keep some semblance of order in the school, because 1. Walkis needs to maintain its prestigious reputation, and 2. These are the kids of the most important people in the magic realm, it would be very bad if something happened to them.

Then again, we know most noble families are shit when it comes to their children (Ex: the Crowns, Madls, Razors, and Rosequartzs) so I wouldn't be surprised if many parents don't care that much if their kid gets sent to the hospital or even straight-up dies. They probably just glanced at the school waiver when enrolling their kids about potential injury and death and were like, "If something happens to them, that's because they're weak blah blah blah" and signed it without a second thought.

The manga says that the majority of the Divine Visionaries in all of history came from Walkis - a whopping 85 compared to Easton's 11 and St. Ars' 4, if I remember correctly. It would be a stretch to assume that not all DVs in the magic realm's history were benevolent. Matter of fact, the current DV lineup was probably the best since Wahlberg and Adam Jobs' time, in terms of not just power but ethics and morality.

I mean, obviously there was still the whole situation with Mash (looking at especially you, Orter), but it would be interesting if some previous DVs throughout history were very self-serving and corrupt, because the ratio of candidates from Walkis and the other schools is crazy and *gestures vaguely at Walkis' aforementioned values regarding power and magic ability, leading to class differences, nepotism, etc, etc.* This was also why Adam Jobs' legacy became so warped after his death, with his beliefs regarding noblesse oblige being largely forgotten or misinterpreted.