#funniest thing is that i never actually wear anything that is so me outside because well there do be normal people out there

[featherymainffins]

Will probably be making myself claw-shaped press-on nails later but I can't decide on the colour composition at all

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 25

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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---

“So you are saying that the Infinite Realms’ government is organized like a dungeons and dragons party?”

Danny snorted and patted Tim’s shoulder. “Jazz’s idea, actually.”

From where she was quietly talking with Bruce, Jazz huffed. “I never said it was a dungeons and dragons party. I only suggested the organization that fit our strengths better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Potato, potahto.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, but went back to her discussion.

The group was walking towards the gardens, where a light lunch was served. Time went by as the Waynes asked anything and everything about the Realms and their rulers, now that there were no more secrets between them. They talked about Sam and Tucker and Valerie and even about Danielle, her origins and how she joined the team included.

The Fenton siblings enjoyed oversharing in a way that felt weird to the vigilantes, so used to hiding and concealing their thoughts all the time. Now that they were more comfortable, Danny and Jazz didn’t hesitate to act more inhuman around them, with the younger sibling floating when he got excited as if it was the more normal reaction.

It reminded Bruce of his colleagues in the Watchtower break room goofing around and using their powers for the stupidest reasons.

When Tim rejoined them, this time alone, he was more annoyed about losing the bet than missing the ghost royalty status reveal. Danny thought that was the funniest thing, and gladly started a new stream of oversharing information about Jazz’s princess status and all the titles she held, ignoring his sister’s attempts at silencing him.

They didn’t even notice lunch time approaching until Alfred reminded everyone in the house that they had to eat — yes, even their inhuman guests. The last part was added with a pointed glare and a short nod before the man walked away.

So now they were making their way to lunch, which was served outside given the nice weather despite being way into fall, chatting about Team Phantom and their roles in detail.

“So Sam is like the Barbarian of the team?” Tim pressed on. “And Tucker is the Artificer.”

Jazz huffed again.

“We are not—”

“Actually, is not that far from the truth,” Danny chuckled, “but not exactly just that. All of us are at least trained in one main duty and act as a backup for someone else. That guarantees that if one of us has to leave, nothing will be left unattended.”

“Like with Jazz being here.”

He nodded. “Jazz helped Tucker with all the record keeping and research in magical theory, as well as diplomacy and ghost law studies. Valerie helped Jazz with her main duties, and so on and so forth.”

“Magical theory?” Jason asked, one eyebrow arched. “Ghost law?”

“Sounds cool but it's actually just reading a bunch of books and trying to guess what they say.” Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. “I swear there is nothing that can make me pass out faster than reading those fuckers.”

“That’s because you don’t do your homework. Dorathea is a very good teacher.” Jazz chimed with a mocking smile.

Duke interrupted when Danny jumped to answer. “You said that the books weren’t Jazz’s main duty, so what is it?”

The young woman tensed for a second before putting on a gentle smile. It didn’t fool anybody, though. “I am—”

“Jazz.”

She turned towards her brother. “What?”

“Jazz, look.”

She frowned at his serious tone, the boyish glee gone completely, but turned to look at what he was pointing at.

It was a giant painting on the other wall of the room they just passed by, which was featuring a small family — a woman, a man and a child. All three were wearing nice clothes, serene smiles for the portrait.

“What’s the matter?” Bruce stepped closer to see what they were seeing, tensing when he realized what it was. “Why are you pointing at my parents’ portrait?”

The siblings looked at each other. “That’s your mother?” Jazz finally asked.

The look Bruce gave her was equal parts worried and calculating. “Indeed.”

Again Danny and Jazz talked to each other with facial gestures and looks.

“It can’t be.” Danny murmured. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Hey.” Jason grabbed Jazz’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

She glanced at her brother, frowning. She licked her lips and drew a long breath. “That’s Lady Gotham.”

One second passed by. Two seconds.

“No, that’s my mother.”

Dick giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

“Could she be wearing someone’s face?” Jazz ignored Bruce’s quiet breakdown to talk to her brother. “Or is it like ‘the Spirit passes down ownership’ kind of situation?”

Danny hummed. “I don’t think it is the second case,” he crossed his arms, “she felt like an Ancient and this woman couldn’t have been dead that long.”

“Are you saying that an ancient spirit is wearing my mother’s face?” The older man said, voice small. Even Jason frowned at the weakness in his tone.

Jazz seemed to snap back to reality and noticed that the conversation may not be the best given current company. She sighed. “We don’t know. Maybe. Was your mother special in any way for this city?”

“Are you kidding? Haven’t you heard about the Martha Wayne foundation? Or all the charity stuff in her name?” Tim scoffed. “Do you live under a rock?”

Jazz blushed. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I don’t pay that much attention to current events outside my work and Crime Alley.”

Jason pretended to try to hide his smile in Jazz’s hair as he pulled her for a side hug.

Danny made a face at the pair, shook his head and turned towards Bruce. “We can’t be a hundred percent sure, but it’s not unheard of for an ancient Spirit to change their appearance. It’s usually to fit in as time passes; but taking the face of a real person from their hunt?” He tilted his head, and Jason noticed the similarity with his sister. It was adorable. “That’s a new one for me.”

“We can always ask?” Jazz tried to move past her misstep.

“Do you really think she’d want to talk about that?”

“Maybe. If we ask nicely.” Neither sibling actually believed these words.

Bruce blinked slowly and started walking again, lost in thought. The rest followed as if nothing even happened.

“Is she really that scary?” Duke asked.

“She is…,” Danny started, rubbing the back of his neck, “she is surely something else. This city is cursed, man; so it doesn’t surprise me that the Spirit overseeing this place is just as cursed.”

“What Danny is trying to say,” Jazz jumped in, “is that the Spirit of Gotham has been deeply corrupted and, well, she’s definitely in pain, and sometimes she lashes out.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” her brother scoffed, shaking his head and not looking at anybody. “I don't know what nice and watered down version of the story Jazzy here told you guys but when we first came here, she was pissed. King or no King, she was ready to kill me.”

Jazz blushed again. “I don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” Danny rolled his eyes.

She looked like she had something to say, but chose to close her mouth and ignore the chuckles.

They finally arrived at the nice backyard patio where a table was already set up for lunch. Alfred walked around the table with his cart, setting down the plates and giving the finishing touches to the display.

Nobody missed his little smile watching them naturally divide in groups and sit down together, his eyes lingering on Jason refusing to let go of his girlfriend’s hand even under said girlfriend’s brother's snarky comments about it.

It had been a while since the Manor was filled with noise like this. It felt… alive. Like how it was supposed to be.

The old man quietly grabbed his cart and went back inside to plate the second course for the meal. He didn’t glance at the moving shadows and the trickster reflections on the corner of his eyes — after so many decades serving at this Manor, this family, he got used to not being exactly alone inside those walls.

***

“I don’t know how you are going to break it to Frighty.”

Jazz froze mid bite, frowning as she swallowed the food. “What do you mean?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at Danny’s shocked expression. The young man looked around the table, maybe looking for support or an explanation, but he probably forgot they just met that morning.

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Jazz, Fright Knight has been courting you for around a year.”

Tim froze, glancing up to see Jason’s reaction. Expecting loud shouting to start, he was even more shocked when Jason leaned back on his seat and crossed his arms with a giant smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” Jazz leaned in, glaring at her brother on the other side of the table.

“Hold on a second,” Dick pushed his empty plate aside to lean closer to Danny, “Fright Knight? The King’s right hand man? The Aspect of Fear?”

“That’s the one!”

“I don’t—” Jazz blinked, “I don’t know— How? When?”

“Uhhhh, since the first siege, I believe?” Danny's smile went from one ear to the other. “He said, and I quote, ‘I had never felt such things in battle before. Lady Jasmine’s war cries pierced my chest deeper than her lance pierced our enemies’.”

Tim shuddered. It was the way Danny impersonated this Fright Knight’s sickening dreamy voice.

“The first siege? That was more than two years ago!”

“And you haven’t noticed this guy being in love with you?” Jason spoke for the first time, grinning at his girlfriend.

“I don’t know?” Jazz threw her hands up. “I thought he was being nice!”

“For a whole year?”

“He’s been giving you courting gifts, Jazz!” Danny said, incredulous. “And you accepted them!”

“So those were courting gifts?”

“What were those gifts?”

“Swords.” Danny answered Jason. “Shiny blades. Ornamental and functional. Jazz has a collection back in the Realms.” He turned towards his sister. “Which, by the way, people keep sending gifts for you. I think they think that you are the ‘reasonable’ one of us and if they send you more swords you’d be more merciful.”

“I don’t need more swords.”

“You liar. You love swords.”

Jazz blushed, unable to say otherwise. “Still nothing he did told me he was interested.”

“Ancients, Jazz,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone knew he was head over heels for you. We thought you were preferring to deal with it in private.”

Her blush became worse. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands fidgeting with her napkin. “You know I don’t do all the romance stuff.”

Incredulous, Danny just pointed at Jason. “And how do you explain him?”

“It’s…” she licked her lips, “different. Unexpected. We just— we clicked.”

“Awww.”

Danny made a face and rolled his eyes, ignoring Dick and Cass’ cooing.

“Well. I’m not going to be the one dealing with all that. Frighty is all yours.”

Jazz sighed. “I’ll talk to him when I go back to the Realms.”

“Hm.” Danny hummed, suddenly lost in thought as he sipped his water. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

“What?”

“I said: Maybe you don’t have to.” He spoke louder. “Come back, I mean.”

She did a double take. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Danny took a second longer than what was expected. “You can stay here.” He leaned back on his seat, putting as much distance as he could from his sister. He was also evading her eyes. “Permanently.”

There was only the sounds of the birds chirping in the nearby trees and the wind flowing between the leaves for a few seconds.

“Are you—” Jazz’s voice was careful, low, “Are you firing me?”

Half the table was looking at Danny and the other half had their eyes glued on Jazz’s face. Her rage, while quiet, was familiar to those witnessing the moment — betrayals, infightings and disbelief ran though their minds as they remembered similar situations in their pasts.

“Jazz—”

“After everything you just— What the hell Danny?”

“I’m not— Could you at least look at me?” She did, and everyone could see her watery eyes. “It’s for your own good.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Jazz’s expression turned murderous as the tears escaped her eyes. She stood up, teeth grinding, breathing deeply a few times before she opened her mouth.

“You don’t mean that.” She crossed her arms.

Danny looked like he wished he was anywhere else but in that room at that moment. “Bad choice of words. I don’t mean that.” He slowly repeated.

“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but she was still mad.

“What I wanted to say is…” He sighed and lifted his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at— You know I always mess these things up— Okay, okay I’ll get to the point.” He quickly added under Jazz’s narrowing eyes. He breathed in, breathed out. “I want you to stay here. In the living world. As long as you want.”

She processed his words, and slowly sat back down. The sounds of nature around them picked up like nothing happened, even if no one had noticed their rather unnatural silence.

“But you said…”

“I know. But things have changed, Jazz. I want you to stay. How could I not be okay with that?”

“But— But my role— And the Archives, and Walker, and—”

“Everything can wait. Or, I don’t know, we’ll deal with it.” He leaned in and took one of her hands in his. “We told you to come here because you really needed a vacation, and I stand by it. The Keep can wait for you. I can wait for you.”

“But—”

“Jasmine Fenton. You have given up everything for me. You were not meant for any of this ghost bullshit or war or fist fighting gods in a Denny’s parking lot. But you gave me a decade of that, and I appreciate it, but that’s enough. You can rest now, you can have nice things. You deserve it.”

Nobody missed when Danny gave Jason, and quick look around the people on the table, when he mentioned the “nice things” she could have.

Jazz opened her mouth only to close it again, more tears coming to her eyes. Her cheeks tinted red, maybe from embarrassment, maybe for remnants of her anger.

She yanked her hand from her brother’s and rushed to her feet, taking a shaky breath.

“Excuse me.”

Jason frowned, watching her go back inside the house and probably looking for a place to calm down.

He felt a kick on one leg.

“Go.” Danny interlaced his hands on the table and nodded in his sister’s general direction. “She needs you.”

Jason’s frown deepened, but he obliged without saying a word.

Bruce cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self conscious under Danny’s stare. The young man didn’t look affected by what just happened like his sister was, but his eyes betrayed the conflicted emotions he hid behind his mask.

“I’m sorry you guys had to witness that. I should have waited until we got home. My bad.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but it felt like forced nonchalance.

“That was sure something.” Dick commented after clearing his throat.

“I apologize but I need to ask,” Bruce leaned in. “Jasmine seemed pretty adamant her time here was limited, that she would sooner or later have to leave everything here. What changed?”

“Did she tell you that?” Danny made an incredulous face and scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t even need to ask. I don’t know why I keep being surprised by her antics.”

“So it’s not true?”

What else had she been lying about? A tiny voice said in the back of Bruce’s head. He tried to ignore it, but given the drastic differences between Danny’s and Jazz’s behavior, he was wondering what was the actual picture and what was the siblings’ casual omission of truth.

“It was true, but only because she herself sets those limits. Jazz is…,” he sighed, deflating on his seat, looking at the sky, “I love my sister, and a lot, but she takes everything too seriously.”

Or you don’t take things seriously enough, Bruce thought, but chose not to say it.

“I never said she had a time limit, or that she had to turn her back on the living world for the rest of her life. We sent her ass to the Arkham internship because she doesn’t know how to take a break.”

“Arkham is a break?” Tim asked what had been lingering in everyone’s heads. The siblings kept referring to working at the worst psychiatric criminal facility, a vacation and a break.

Danny scoffed again, turning his eyes towards the young man. His smile wasn’t kind. “You guys haven’t put it together? The kind of role Jazz has in the Realm. The kind of person she… The kind of person I asked her to become.”

There was deep guilt in his voice, and in the way he couldn’t hold his gaze. Danny fidgeted with his napkin, letting the birds sing the tension of his silence away. They were waiting on him to elaborate, and he knew that, but was building the courage to speak.

“Do you guys know how powerful I am? No, you don’t,” he answered himself with a shrug, “because there’s no one like me. I could— If I wanted to, I could bring this city, the whole city, into the Infinite Realms. Just like that.

If I wanted to I could end the war with a snap of my fingers. I could Order every ghost-adjacent being to follow my every command and bring peace via total domination. Or,” he stopped his fingers, sighing, “I could just rip their cores with a thought and crush them with another and be done with Vlad and with every stubborn ghost that thinks I don’t deserve to be King.”

He finally glanced up at Bruce, as if he knew all these scenarios passed though the man’s head as he spoke. “Imagine that — Every conflict, every war, I could wish it away in seconds.”

The older man nodded, following his speech. “And yet you are here.”

Danny’s vulnerable smile reminded him so much of Clark’s. “I can’t. I can’t do that. If I— If I just eliminate every little thing in my way, what kind of person would I be? I’ve seen it happen, Bruce. I know what I could be if I lose perspective of who I really want to be.”

Cass lifted her hand like she was in a classroom. “Jazz. She’s your anchor.”

Danny went back to looking at his hands, shoulders sagging. In shame? In defeat? “All of them keep me grounded, even when I feel like I’m drifting away from who I used to be. But Jazz? She knows what needs to be done, what I’m scared to do. She knows she can handle the guilt and the nightmares and the horror.”

He took a long breath to calm himself. “Jazz is what I can’t— what I won’t be, and she took that burden like it was nothing. She has always done that, taking the bad things and dealing with them for me. It’s just… This time, the ‘bad things’ are a little bit more permanent.”

It made sense now. How she avoided talking about it, how Jazz tensed when she was asked what her role was. How she was so comfortable at Arkham.

“She’s your Executioner.”

Danny flinched at Bruce’s words. “She’s that and more. She became a counterpart for me, a shadow, so I could shine in the spotlight. A symbol.” He said the word like it was a curse. Bruce didn’t miss the twitch in his eyebrow. “Do you know why her armor is bright red?” His smile wasn’t kind when he looked up. “The Infinite Realms are green. She stands out and attracts all the attention in battle so the rest of us can be the heroes of the hour.” He chuckled. “She never wanted any of this. She didn’t defeat the previous King, she wasn’t even there. I know my childhood could have been way worse if she wasn’t in my life, and I’m grateful, but I kept asking more and more from her and now—”

“Do you really think I didn’t want this?” Jazz’s voice cut through Danny’s rambles. “I chose to stay, Danny.”

He didn’t react when he saw her walk in, her face puffy and her eyes still wet. Did he know she was listening? Of course he did — from what the vigilantes could gather so far, Danny’s abilities were up there with Superman’s. Maybe even more.

“Don’t.” He frowned. “I can see right through your bullshit, Jazz. There wasn’t that much of a choice and you know it.”

She bit her lips, but didn’t deny it. Instead, she pulled on her joined hands with Jason’s so they approached the table and sat down.

After settling in her seat, she breathed in, breathed out and smiled. “You are making me sound like some kind of demon or something.” Nobody bought the lightness of her tone.

Danny caught her deflection and chose to follow. He scoffed. “And you are not?” He made a gesture with his hands, placing them on the sides of his head with his pointer fingers up, imitating his sister’s headpiece.

She rolled her eyes. “I am not—”

“Jazzy, fear incarnate is in love with you. He let you ride his horse!” He smirked at Jason. “Not an euphemism.”

He caught on what the siblings were trying to do and turned towards his girlfriend. “You never told me about any horse, darling.”

“Nightmare was a strategic move. Frighty knows I can’t fly like the rest of you and it could give me an advantage during battle.”

“Nightmare? Seriously?” Jason asked.

“Big black horse with wings.” She quickly explained with a shrug. “Breathes fire.”

“Are you serious? Fright Knight doesn’t let me even touch his horse and I’m the King!” He threw his hands up in the air. “That being said, he doesn’t challenge me as much as he does with you, and thanks the Ancients for that.”

“Wait. Wait a second. Are you saying—”

Danny’s smile grew like a Cheshire Cat’s. “Ooohhhh. You didn’t know? Did you forget the one basic fact about ghost nature, Jazzy-pants? Ghost’s love language is fighting.” He said the last part imitating her voice, like she was giving a lecture of some kind.

“Oh? Tell me more?” Jason leaned towards Danny, head leaning on one hand, completely enraptured by the information his girlfriend’s brother shared so easily.

“And he wasn’t pulling any punches either. Before I learned he was formally courting her, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight her to death or marry her!”

“He could do both if he’s not a coward.” Jason shared the smile with Danny, ignoring Jazz’s hands pushing his shoulder away from her.

“Hey!” Jazz protested, but there was a small smile on her lips. “Don’t encourage him!”

“Wait until I tell you about The Ballad of the Red Demon.” Danny also ignored his sister, and the eyes of the rest of the Waynes, as he summoned a notebook with more green flames. He cleared his throat, opened the notebook and started reading:

“The fire in her eyes burned brighter than any sun, as the sharp edge of her blade pierced your chest to meet your untimely end.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her burning fury will consume you in a blaze hotter than the Realm’s Core.

There she rides the winged Dark Horse as her cries call for the blood of her enemies, bright green eyes already searching for the next target.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her siren’s call will be the last thing you hear before you draw your last breath.”

“What in the Ancients is that?” Realization came to the young woman. She slapped the table and stood up. “Ghost Writer?”

Danny nodded. “He gave me the first draft to approve before getting into editing.” He shook the notebook closer to his sister. “There’s a chapter for each of us, don’t think it’s just about you.”

He rolled his eyes and reopened the notebook, getting ready to continue reading, but Jazz jumped and reached across the table trying to snatch the notebook before he continued. He managed to float away just in time to prevent her from taking it from him, and quickly flew high enough that she couldn’t reach him, but close enough that he was almost within reach.

“Awww, you don’t want our new friends to know about your feats during the last siege? About—” he glanced at the text, quickly murmuring words under his breath, “‘Her fiery hair glows like a damned halo’ and ‘sharp blade like a gentle kiss of death’ something something ‘crushing enemies under her foot’.”

Jazz was trying to jump high enough so she could catch her brother, her face crimson red as the others chuckled at the scene.

Finally, taking pity on her, Jason reached for the book as Danny was distracted reading the next stanza and seized it away from the floating Fenton.

“Thank you.” She breathed in relief, extending her hand so he could give her the notebook.

With a tiny smile, he opened it and tried to read too, but it was written in symbols he felt he recognized but couldn’t read.

“Do you have an official translation yet or do I have to wait?”

---

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[ineffable-rohese]

Sounds like "Rose"

New pinned post! Cause some stuff needs updated. :)

Demographic info: Mid 40s white fat queer poly pagan genderfluid transmasc human living in the wet corner of North America. The genderfluid thing is newly realized and shiny and I’m sure I’ll be talking about it often over the next... while.

Personal (public facing): I'm an Aziraphale-coded hobbit. Like, so cozy and wholesome you might want to puke. I rewatch just the first disc of the LOTR extended edition because I love the Shire so much. I drink Earl Grey with milk and one sugar. (Or a good scotch, cause every Aziraphale needs a little bit of Crowley inside them, right Sheenie?) Outside of fic, I read mainly historical fiction, especially anything set in (actual, not fantasy) medieval Europe and I was at one point a medieval music history nerd. I wear cozy sweaters. I love rain on ferns and April flowers. I make soup with things I've tended and harvested. I work a Wholesome AF job. I unironically hug trees. I'm in love with the world.

Personal (in private): I'm kinky and loving it. I'm primarily a Sensual Sadist with a significant Dominant streak. I often play as a Panther. I love consensual violence, and get great joy from hurting people who want me to hurt them. 

Fandoms: I fell in love with Good Omens in 2000 when a college roommate gave it to me. It was genuinely the funniest, greatest thing I had ever read, and I evangelized about it to anyone who would listen. S1 of the show immediately became a comfort show, and it got me through a time of massive loss and upheaval. I put it on when everything was too hard and I needed something that made me feel like it would be OK. S2 - well we're all here still, aren't we? It dropped when I desperately needed One Good Thing for my brain to latch on to as I got through some intense pressure, and boy howdy did it lodge itself in me. (I’m deeply upset about NG’s actions, but I’m also not about to throw away something so personally meaningful because one asshole involved made some really shitty choices.)

Other fandoms in roughly chronological order: Star Wars (original trilogy made me a child nerd), X-Files (first real social fandom, and intro to fanfic!), Buffy/Angel/Firefly, LOTR, Doctor Who, Torchwood (the only other show I've been driven to write fic for). OFMD and WWDITS are great fun, though not obsessions. Any of these and more might show up.

My Writing: Writing Index Here I’ve written nearly 100K of fic in the past year! My writing signatures are vivid sensory descriptions and kinky smut. Some angst, some fluff, some really dark stuff. My Ineffables tend to be deeply in love but also kinda fucked up in their own special ways. I’m still writing, a bit slowly at the moment due to Life, but there’s some great stuff in my docs I can’t wait to share when it’s ready.

What I post/don’t post: This is my fun space filled with things that I find interesting and/or bring me joy. Expect lots of Good Omens, GO Extended Universe (aka anything Tennant and/or Sheen), queer and kink-related content, other fandom things, my writing including NSFW snippets (below a cut if I remember), fat/body positivity, cats, nature awesomeness, things that make me laugh. Posts I write off the cuff as I wake up in the morning seem to be the ones that get shared, for some reason. I almost never post about current events unless it’s good news. The world is full of fear and despair; I try to keep this space one of hope and joy. There will be NSFW content on the regular (because kink, sex, and other such adult activities are a joy for me), so if you’re uncomfortable with that, I’m not the person to follow.

Tags: Honestly, I’m inconsistent about tags so please don’t rely on my tags for your safety. I do try to spoiler tag things if it’s close to when something comes out, but other than you’re at the whims of my ADHD.

Yay! I bring back my cats as a gift for reading all of this.

[revereworks]

A letter to the boy with sea glass eyes ~ 3/17/24

Dear D,

There was this period when I finally got over myself and remembered that you are very much in love with your girlfriend and it isn't just a fake relationship like the books. You actually love that girl.

But that only lasted for a week and then I remembered why I liked you.

I try to come up with reasons that you secretly resent her. To this day.

Her friend played puking noises all throughout class the other day and your girlfriend thought it was the funniest thing in the world; she couldn't stop laughing. I hated it because they had looked at my group and shushed us even though it was partner work and then they pulled something like this.

And I coudl tell that you were less than impressed by it all.

I think that maybe it gave you the ick.

I don't mean this in a negative way, but you are essentially a immature boy. It surprised me to see you frowning, especially at your own girlfriend. It surprised me when you told them off and to grow up a little bit.

I guess that doesn't stop you from sharing your car with her. And it certainly doesn't stop you from bragging about her with any chance that you get.

I want you to sit with me one day or near me. I want you to see me near my friends so you can see the best possible me that there is, the one that is open and smiling and not shy.

I want you to laugh at the words that I say.

I now I'm probably the most obvious girl in the world. I wonder if you can see it in my eyes, if my awkwardness comes off as me being uncomfortable and shy or if you know that I look at you whenever I can.

My friend doesn't like your haircut. And, I'll admit, at first I didn't really like it either. I loved it when your hair was a little longer. But when I got used to it, you didn't look bad at all.

I think you're cute and handsome and funny.

And honestly I wish you would look at me more but also I wish I was invisible to you. I'm self conscious around you. My hair feels ten times more greasy, my skin is a thousand times more oily or dry, my break outs are the sizes of mountains.

More than anything, I want you to look at me and see the person that I am. It would be more than nice if you thought I was beautiful, but I would just like it if you thought I was a cool person to be around.

It's been a long time since I believed in god, but I pray to him. I ask for him to allow you to see me, for me to see you.

At the end of the day, I know nothing about you. I'm just another girl in the school that has a crush on you. If you ever did break up with your girlfriend, I would be last on the list of choices.

You didn't even add me back.

I want to be over you. I want to be able to talk to my friend when I'm in a class with you and stop looking over to see if you can hear me, to see if you think I'm funny. I want to stop feeling anxiety over what I will wear. I want to stop feeling self conscious when you look over and I think you're looking at my friend more than me.

I just want to be a girl who has a strong bond with her friends.

I want to control my emotions and let you go.

Isn't that supposed to be the test of love? If I truly love you, I should let you go.

I'm glad you're happy. I'm glad that you are thinking about college and a life outside of high school. If we never met again but it meant that you never were miserable or regret anything then I am more than willing to watch you go.

Soon I think that I will have to say goodbye forever.

Like I said, I barely interact with you. So I will not be seeing you after you graduate. When may rolls around, I will have to say goodbye for good. But you will not hear those words come from me.

I don't think that bothers you much.

But I don't have to say goodbye now. So this is what I will leave you.

Hello,

A

[butch-reidentified]

What do you think of this

https://www.tumblr.com/feminist-fog/722630344826847232/the-funniest-thing-to-me-rn-is-seeing-transphobic

I'm gonna respond to this as if I share your belief that it's easy to disguise your sex and that tons of trans people are doing this all the time, but it's worth noting that I really don't. Anyone can select and post a bunch of pictures, which may be edited for all we know, but are certainly deliberately posed and carefully selected by the subject before being shared online. Pictures do not reflect real life "passing," especially since these pictures don't show the full body and since a large part of "passing" is in the voice, intonation, mannerisms, and behaviors.

I don't blindly believe stuff like this. This is one single anonymous post that feeds right into a popular TRA narrative claiming that "transphobic" women would have an issue with trans men in women's bathrooms. Respectfully, one single anonymous post does not mean anything to me. If OP is going to claim that this phenomenon is really happening (and by happening, I don't just mean once or twice, but rather to claim that it's an actual phenomenon and an issue worth paying attention to), then OP should provide more & better receipts than this. It's the internet. We've all seen far too many fake posts that look rather similar to this, where someone allegedly is having their politics backfire on them. I've seen similar content where a supposed anti-choicer is being criminally charged for having a miscarriage and mourning how wrong she was to celebrate the end of Roe. It had zero outside sources to make it believable, yet I saw a lot of (intelligent!) women sharing it. That stuff is insidious. And I will be honest with you, the way this post is written/worded makes me suspicious. "This person looks so weird. Like they look super masculine. They even have a beard and everything." This just sounds so fake to me, it sounds like something a TRA would THINK a "transphobic woman" would say, not like how I ever hear radfems/gc women talk (can't really speak for conservatives/trads tho bc I don't fw them so idk, but from screenshots I've seen and whatnot it doesn't sound much like them, either). It especially doesn't sound like anything any radfem would ever say for the reasons I detail in #2.

If this did happen, it must be some conservative trad type, NOT a radfem/gc feminist. Why? Simply put, because conservatives/trads want to reinforce gender, so they aren't thrilled with the existence of unfeminine women, whereas we want gender abolished, so we love gender nonconformity. Our communities are FULL of gnc women, including detrans women, many of whom still look the same as they did when they identified as trans - despite the weird narrative I often see, "FTMTF" detransition does not inherently entail becoming feminine and/or performing feminine gender roles, stereotypes, and expectations. Radfem ideology being opposed to gender and viewing femininity as an oppressive construct means a large portion of our communities will be gnc women who don't shave or wear makeup, who have short & practical hair/nails, who wear baggy shorts and sneakers, etc. I myself do all of this, have had a mastectomy, was briefly on T in the past (and thus have a little facial hair and a deeper voice), and have stereotypically masculine behaviors/mannerisms. Many people have mistaken me for male. Do you think I have a problem with myself in the bathroom? I don't buy this narrative TRAs have about how trans men and gnc women would/do have issues in bathrooms from "transphobic" women because I've looked like this for many years and never had so much as a nasty look - and I go out ALL the time, at least multiple nights a week downtown + going to all kinds of places and events during the day. I also have a tiny bladder, so if any "masc" (hate this term tbh) woman was going to run into this issue in a public restroom, I'd be shocked it was never me.

So, yes, I don't technically know if this is fake or not, no matter how odd it seems to me, but regardless of whether it's real, I find it very hard to believe that this is happening with any degree of significance. And whatever degree it is actually happening is the doing of conservatives/trads, who presumably were already doing that to gnc women (including butch, trans-identifying, etc) before the whole trans bathroom debate was even a thing, and would/will continue to do this to those same women whether or not the trans discourse existed at all. Bottom line here: this isn't about trans stuff; it's about gender nonconformity which happens to include trans stuff. And if you are sending me this because you think I could ever be one of those women, joke's on you bc I'm on the exact opposite side of this story 😅

[miraculouslybobatea]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals!!

Thank you thank you so very much for the tag @bengaltiger25 !!

Are you named after anyone?

Kind of. My name isn’t the same as, but it is based on my maternal grandmother’s name.

When was the last time you cried?

Uhhh probably last night lol. Nothing really happened yesterday , I’ve just being doing that a lot for the past year.

Do you have kids?

NAUR. I’m wayyy to young for that lol.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Oh never. I’m probably the least sarcastic person ever /sarcastic/. No bit in all serious I can be pretty sarcastic. I’ve been told that despite being pretty quiet I tend to say the funniest stuff under my breath.

What sports do you play/have played?

I used to play soccer for a while until I was like 13ish. I would’ve liked to have continued but to do it in school I would’ve had to choose between sports or theatre (I chose theater). I also did track and field one spring.

What's the first thing you notice about someone?

I never really thought about it but probably their outfit. Not in a judgmental way, I just tend to notice what people are wearing, even if I’m just passing them on the street.

What's your eye color?

Okay so this is actually kind of interesting! If you’ve noticed in any of my drawings of myself my eye color is probably kind of indeterminate.That’s because I have central heterochromia, so the center of my eyes are kind of blue but the outsides are brown (it’s more noticeable on my right eye). Trust me, it doesn’t look as cool as it sounds irl.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings PLEASE. Though I love some good angst, I need it to end happily. I don’t really like horror movies because I usually just end up bored.

Any special talents?

Idk if I have any special talents. I like to preform, like music and acting. I also like most things art, so painting, drawing, digital (as you’ve all seen if you know me), etc. I also bake and I’m decent at it.

Where were you born?

New York New York baybeee

What are your hobbies?

I already listed some, but singing, listening to music, anything artsy, skating, watching movies and tv, sewing.

Do you have pets?

Until recently I had a cocker spaniel, best in the world- here look at him. Look at his face.

How tall are you?

5’0”, or 152 cm (I think). My parents are pretty short so it makes sense.

Favorite subject in school?

Ooh this is tough. I enjoy most subjects and I do about the same in all of them so it’s hard to pick. Idk if I can pick a favorite but I can tell you that my least favorite is probably mathematics.

Dream job?

I’m not really sure! I’m probably going to end up doing something medical/science oriented, but it would be really cool in a complete fantasy world to do something involving designing or where I’d get to work with animals.

@o-cinnamonstickz @eating-you-alive-cutely @spookyanxiety @silverwolfie100 @andonyourown @xocosplayluverxo and anyone else I may be missing, it’s your turn now!!!

[captain-astors]

Kaneki 24 26 30, Hide 16 20 & Rio 15 and 18 for the ask game :DD (I am full of questions)

I have decided I like this ask game a lot, less time but I have to think about it a bit more deeply. Also I love these choices thank you so much these creatures are my DEARS.

KANEKI: 

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

This man tells absolutely no one anything ever and it causes A LOT OF PROBLEMS. But if we’re talking just harmless things he’s embarrassed about, Haise had an entire theory about where he came from and who he was, including things like who he could possibly be related to (read: imagining a healthy, loving family for himself that was just ambiguously out there.) In hindsight he thinks that was way too optimistic and probably just manifestations of memories of his friends. Also he broke a coffee pot once early on in Anteiku and refused to admit it out of fear, because Touka looked like she was going to actually murder the culprit.

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most? Difficult to answer as I'm not sure who "Kaneki" is supposed to be. When he didn't have to worry about any of this ghoul stuff? He said himself he was lonely and shelled in. Post Jason? Probably not. Haise? Technically not “him”. He’s pretty much a completely different character by the end of :re so that’s difficult to judge. I suppose… any time he’s just rambling about his favorite books with no regard for how passionate he sounds, to Rize, to Tsukiyama, to Hinami, and any other instance. It just seems very sweet and genuine.

30. The funniest scene they had? Also tricky because if I was laughing it was typically at how miserable he was (sorry) I guess the scene when Kaneki, constantly searching for "truths," straight up tells the guy offering to elaborate on it all "No thanks I'm just going to beat you up." Also the hug scenes with Akira are all near and dear to my heart but the first one was hysterical.

HIDE: 

16. A childhood headcanon.

The kind of kid to wear dinosaur/superhero hoodies every single day. His dads were completely fine with this because he looked adorable.

20. A weird headcanon.

He definitely wears those grippy socks. Just around the house. Not for any particular reason he just got them at a trampoline park or something and doesn’t want to slip on the kitchen floor. Also he can, has, and possibly will again lick someone’s salt lamp at a sleepover.

SHIKORAE/RIO: I’m answering this for pre and post Cochlea when I can because this is a chance I may only get once.

15. Worst storyline they had.

For Shikorae! Post-dragon Kakuja. The extremely traumatized and unwell ghoul who is perhaps one of the most harmed by their old society CONTINUES to be scorned by the new one, but it’s okay because he’s too unwell to be instantly adjusted into society! He’s basically an animal right?

Rio! The Touka crush, it really felt like pandering to the audience. Your main character doesn't have to be Kaneki the Sequel guys, I suppose it could be argued he was so undersocialized that he just was immediately infatuated with the first pretty girl he met but leaving the closest thing you have to a home as a result of the rejection of that feels... odd. Probably the intense attachment issues at work. It makes sense to some extent I just think there were better ways to justify his departure. It is funny to me that Touka had a crush on him too allegedly , so she definitely has a type.

18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

Well, we kind of know given that he is a kid in Jail, but if we’re talking before that as well, like 6-10 years old,

SO shy and surprisingly weak for a ghoul kid. To put it simply, his brother wouldn’t bring him on hunts, and at that would hardly bring him outside out of fear, so he wasn’t getting nearly enough vitamin D or exercise. It didn’t help that due to his mutation, his RC pathways have always prioritized “must make more kagune” over maintaining the state of his body, because it basically works by treating his current Kagunes as if they weren’t there, and therefore his body thinks he is unarmed at all times, and by extent it thinks he needs to create a new one constantly.

His brother did his best to feed him enough to maintain both functions, but whereas most ghoul kids are durable enough to at least make a break for it before even adult ghouls can go for the kill, Rio probably could’ve been taken out with a quinque steel knife if the wielder managed to get past the swirling mess of Kagune.

He did crave companionship though, and when his brother trusted another ghoul enough to introduce them to him he was generally considered to be very sweet, if timid.

[gallavich-headcanon]

"I actually don't remember that commercial, babe, but remember when..." -> Holy hell! I didn't even think about the possibility of all the embarrassing cute pet names! I feel like Mickey would stick to canon nicknames, unless he is being annoying on purpose or trying to get Ian's attentions, calling him pumpkin or something. But IAN, Ian doesn't know Mickey so he will start with all the Baby / babe / honey / sweetheart and it would get Mickeey to blush and whisper -shout "Don't call me that!", while everyone thinks he doesn't like it when Ian says it in public, people tell him "oh don't worry my husbands calls me sweety pie all the time, no need to be embarrassed." And Mickey discovers his new love for pet name (coming from Ian's mouth only) because he never let any of his exes do that. (~que internalized homophobia~) but now that he has no choice... it has grown on him. when the pretending stops and Ian stops with the names and sticks to Mickey or Mick... Mickey hates it. He wants to be honey again.

Oh I didn't even think about Ian's bipolar in this AU! yes what if it's one of the first things Ian tells him? so he's not surprised by the meds? and Mickey makes it a goal of his to help keep track of Ian's meds, because this house drives everyone crazy, with and without mental illness, and time feels fake. So Mickey makes sure to read all the side effects on the bottle and asks Ian stuff about it at night. At first it's the excuse of not looking like a shitty boyfriend but quickly Mickey just cares, you know?

Hahah Mickey having to listen to horrible sex stories! They probably tell him "Isn't it so hard to be with your boyfriend, sleep in the same bed and not have sex?" they blame it on the cameras. But it's easy because sleeping next to insanely hot person and not have sex with him, makes both of them horny and the sexual tension is there, so it helps sell their fake relationship. What if the girls are trying to ask him about their sex life? Can you imagine the conversation later that night whispering like "Yeah, so... I told Maria that you're a gold star top. So everyone asks, I've never fucked you. oh shit, I also kinda told them you have a monster cock. Technically both of those things aren't a lie."

Yes they would be the funniest hosts! Ian would try to take it kinda seriously and of course wouldn't miss the opportunity to tell one of his goofy jokes (the guest womb joke is still hunting me to this day) and Mickey would love making fun of the house tenants and their drama. Ian would try to stay neutral but Mickey would play favorites and make sure everyone knows who he wants to win.

"you just don't wanna lose your fucktoy," and someone is almost throwing hands about it. -> I will throw hands right now! No one talks about Ian's man like that. The fuck. I hope they get eliminated that night.

mickey decides to wear one of Ian's hoodies for comfort? -> I need to lay down. What if Ian keeps telling him stuff like "Don't forget you can't punch anything... or anyone... if I'm gone tonight." and Mickey is all panicky like "You are not fucking leaving me here, Red. No fucking way. We're going to do your stupid little monolog about why you have to stay. Let's go to the big brother room, I'm not doing it in front of those bitches, like you." Mickey is trying to keep it cool but he's being extra touchy and like, you said, stealing Ian's hoodies for comfort. Ian hides on of his shirts in Mickey's pillow, just in case he does have to leave that night. oh and he leaves his cologne next to Mickey's. If he has to leave, he will buy a new one outside. Maybe he stole of of Mickey's shirts, no one has to know, because he got saved that night and put everything back in place.

What if their double bed was like the cloud bed? so of course the stayed in it during the show but the kept begging to take it home by the time the show was over? Like a souvenir? Hahah because of course they are going to move in together after 3 and a half months in this house!

wait are you imagining this as a fall/winter season with hot tub in the garden or a spring/summer season with a pool in the garden?

i promise i'll answer to everything else asap, but-

-> Nosho don't get me started with a Big Brother reality show type of AU.

you can't just drop this and not expect me to ask you to elaborate!

HAHAHAHAHA nosho I am sitting alone laughing like a maniac

I told you not to indulge me on this one! I still have reblogs to reply to and now I'm gonna have to add another one to our ever growing list of AUs. This is one is on you, my friend. When we, inevitably, lose our minds, I want you to go back to this moment.

Okay, so my knowledge about Big Brother is very limited because I've only watched one season like 8 years ago (don't judge me, I was after surgery and couldn't walk for a while. It's insanely addictive though, with the whole 24/7 live stream)

But in the season I watched they had 2 random tenants (the first two that entered the house) pretend they are exes. Like the secret mission was to successfully make the other 20 people believe they are exes even though they've never met. They had 10 minutes, until the next person joins them, to come up with a story. In this they only had to keep it up for 2 days but-

In my AU - Ian and Mickey have to pretend to be together. They enter the house last, together. They get 10 minutes to come up with a convincing back story. They are told they have to keep everyone convinced for a week. Even if one person goes to the big brother and tells them that they think I&M are lying about it, they whole house loses. (the whole house participates in an activity that they believe to be the real weekly mission).

So when they both realize they are from the south side of Chicago, and are gay, they know they can pull it off. They keep the rest as close to reality as possible- Ian (25) is an EMT, Mickey (27) is a tattoo artist.

In the house they are the only ones to get a double bed and obviously they are expected to sleep together.

Will they convince everyone? will they fail the secret mission? Will they actually fall in love?

[pluckyredhead]

The Arrowfamily Is Comically Terrible at Secret Identities

I’ve mentioned a few times that I headcanon that the Arrowfam doesn’t actually have functional secret identities but think they do, but that’s...basically canon. So I figured I’d share the evidence!

There’s a lot of evidence.

Ollie has never been stupendous at maintaining a secret identity, but the whole thing fell apart completely in 1989, when the CIA asked Oliver Queen to assist them with a case. Ollie agreed, but wanted to know how they knew he was Green Arrow:

Please note that he’s talking to a CIA agent here. This man deals in information, and Ollie’s identity was so obvious he didn’t even realize it was a secret. Incredible.

Absolutely one of the funniest things Ollie has ever said. Bless his heart.

And when Ollie finally suits up for the mission...

...he decides not to put on the mask. He continues to not bother with it until his death, so for another five years.

(Dinah also seems to drop her secret identity around this time, though it’s not commented on. She pretty much continues not to have one to this day.)

But what about his boys?

Well, Roy is a government agent in the late 80s and 90s, and "Agent Harper’s” former life as a sidekick is no secret:

You could argue that Roy’s file is classified and so no one outside of Checkmate/the CBI knows it, but that’s pretty clearly not true. First of all, every babysitter Lian has ever had has known both of Roy’s identities. Second, by 1998, he’s wearing this costume:

No mask. Just occasional sunglasses. Please note Vic dunking on him for them. (This whole exchange is golden. “You’re not supposed to say his name” lololol.)

And then there’s Connor, who wears a mask, but doesn’t seem to realize that it’s for anything other than decoration and tradition. Here he is introducing himself by name while in costume:

(This is one of my all-time favorite Connor panels, by the way. “Are you Robin Hood?” “I’m his son.” Just shoot me in the heart, why don’t you?)

And in case you’re thinking, well, that’s a child, who’s she going to tell...here’s Connor being totally unconcerned about being addressed by his real name while in costume while on television:

It’s hard to convey with just a few panels here and there, but I want to make this very clear: from at least 1994 to 2001, Roy and Connor simply did not have secret identities. They walked around in costume without masks, sometimes with a jacket on top if it was chilly but clearly not to hide the costume. They introduced themselves by name while in costume and by codename while out of it. Heroes with secret identities (Dick, Kyle, etc.) had to remind them to be discreet when they were hanging out together. Literally every supporting character in both of their books knew who they really were, including villains. They weren’t super public figures, but they weren’t hiding things, either.

(Connor’s existence also really reinforces that Ollie never had a good secret identity, because he always knew Ollie was his father, which according to the timeline of that era means that Moonday saw Green Arrow on TV one day and said “Huh, that’s the guy who got me pregnant.”)

And then Ollie comes back. Now, when he returns from the dead he has amnesia for basically everything after his road trip with Hal in the 70s, which means he doesn’t remember getting rid of his mask, and he certainly doesn’t know that Roy and Connor were running around identity-less for years while he was dead. None of that makes this scene any less funny:

Mia has encountered both Green Arrow and Oliver Queen exactly once each and she instantly knows they’re the same person. Like the scene with the CIA agent, this scene is important because it establishes not that Ollie’s identity is known, but that it is easy to know. HE IS OBVIOUSLY GREEN ARROW. IF HE DOES NOT CHANGE HIS BEHAVIOR, HE WILL ALWAYS BE OBVIOUSLY GREEN ARROW.

(Spoiler: he does not change his behavior.)

A couple storylines later, Ollie becomes inexplicably obsessed with his secret identity. You know, the one he doesn’t have.

This is Ollie standing at his own grave. [Insert Grant Gustin meme here.] He is there to meet Clark and ask him who attended his funeral. Clark provides him with paparazzi photos, and Ollie absolutely freaks the fuck out because he doesn’t recognize one of the attendees, and why would someone he doesn’t know be at his funeral? Maybe they know his secret???

Oliver. THERE IS AN ARROW ON YOUR TOMBSTONE AND IT SAYS “ALWAYS MADE THE RIGHT ENEMIES.” YOU DIED IN A HELICOPTER EXPLOSION. WHAT FUCKING SECRET?

Like. Archer’s Quest is an idiotic storyline and riddled with character assassination, but the fact that Ollie is upset that a stranger was at his funeral when the paparazzi, who are presumably also strangers, were also there is extra dumb. But my Archer’s Quest rant is a separate post.

Anyway, Ollie and Roy decide to go on a road trip to find various things that may or may not compromise Ollie’s secret identity. Before they set out, Ollie gives Roy a present:

This makes me laugh so hard. It’s so fucking stupid. Truly what do you think that is going to do, Ollie? Is it a magic mask? If Roy puts it on, will it give the entire world amnesia? That cat is FULLY out of the bag, my friends!

It’s also funny because eight months later, Roy switched to this costume:

This one doesn’t even have sunglasses! Screw you, Ollie!

Oh, and just in case you think that Mia is better about all of this because she’s seen how obvious Ollie is...nope.

That is Mia making a trick arrow IN SHOP CLASS while loudly talking to Roy about the Fortress of Solitude on the phone. And then Bart shows up IN COSTUME to take her to a Teen Titans mission and it’s pretty clear that she is not at all concerned about the impact this will have on her secret identity. So yeah, she’s just as bad as the rest of them.

(Yes, Roy did steal a Phantom Zone arrow from the Fortress of Solitude as a teenager and then gift it to Mia a decade later. I love him.)

But then Identity Crisis happened, and all of a sudden everyone had to be super duper worried about their secret identity, even people who had not had one since 1989. And thus we get a hilariously dumb storyline where the Arrowfamily’s house gets blown up and Ollie spirals into hysterics about it:

If the next words out of Hideous Wally’s mouth weren’t going to be “...have a secret identity,” I will be so disappointed in him. EVERYONE KNOWS WHO YOU ARE, OLIVER.

Connor is not exempt from the hysterics, which is in a lot of ways even funnier because he never had a secret identity:

Well, gee, Connor, maybe you shouldn’t have told every single person you met your real name for seven years! Maybe that would have helped!

(This is all triply funny because these histrionics are being written by Judd Winick, who was simultaneously writing Roy the Maskless Wonder over in Outsiders.)

I’m assuming this was all intended to be a soft retcon and we just...weren’t supposed to remember or notice that the Arrowfam didn’t have secret identities once they started caring about them again. But again: it was firmly established not once but twice that Ollie’s secret identity can be detected by literally just looking at him, Roy’s ID is a matter of public record, and the amount of government agents, supervillains, and utter randos scattered around the world who know at least one Arrowfam ID is literally uncountable. And Oliver is still publicly dating Black Canary, Green Arrow’s girlfriend. And yet they still think they have secret identities.

In conclusion: they’re stupid and I love them, your honor. And this is why I choose to believe that everyone in Star City 100% knows who every single member of the Arrowfamily is and they are just allowing them to keep their illusions out of affection for their dumb, melodramatic, ridiculous superheroes.

[kayoi1234]

Wait no, let’s talk about that overblot stuff all them kids go under, and what that means for our magic-less player insert. [AKA watch me Make Shit Up]

(A lot of this was inspired by the asks and responses on @pinkpruneclodwolf and their theory crafting about overblot MC makes a lot more sense so go read all their stuff first then come back here)

Anyways, I want to say it start slows? Like maybe in the ending few episodes of Chapter 7, which won’t be released until the heat death of the universe but I digress. But the corruption has to be slow. The player would get clues about it, but it’s almost...non-consequential? It stuff you could easily brush off. Stuff that in the long run, you would have seen coming but it’s not of any concern.

Our Yuu wears gloves. There are little black fingerprints on surfaces. There are ink stains in places that don’t make sense. It’s nothing too worrying. You’d barely notice it.

And then, a twist, probably. They can’t get back. They can get back. It’s all a hodgepodge of emotions, and Grimm explodes into that overblot cat monster from the beginning of the game, hungry and angry and unable to see reason. And where’s Yuu in all of this?

Oh that’s easy. They’re dead! Strings cut and threads snapped, bleeding ink and blot from their body. Because Yuu is an outsider, ultimately, and in an area that is so completely soaked in magic that it’s impossible for their body hasn’t absorbed any number of the ambient magic and blot that hangs over this school like a fog.

But their body isn’t made for magic - hell, it’s not made for any of these foreign substances that are saturated in magic is safe for them. It’s like radiation at this point - small doses is fine, but they’ve been wandering an non-wasteland version of a magic Fallout for who knows how long. (Timelines get a bit weird here. I’d like to say 1 year at minimum but who knows).

Their body is more blot then human. They’re just very good at hiding it. But Grimm consumes blot, so he would consume Yuu too. Doesn’t have to be literal. Can be spiritual or mental. I’m not picky. Grim consumes and leaves a husk and a corpse behind.

And the thing is - the funniest part about this is Yuu is still a blank slate for the purpose of the player. It’s so laughably easy to simply project anyone and anything on them. In-universe, the students and staff of NRC have already done that. Project what they think Yuu is like, and not who they actually are. The little mute magic-less kid that saves people from overblots. Responsible and funny and over all good.

But no, look! They’re moving, like a marionette on strings. Blot takes it’s own form after all.  It’s all very easy for it to reanimate the dead, to mirror what people think of Yuu.

Yuu’s the supervisor after all. They’re smart and strong and dependable. They could never fall so they’re fine! They’re fine because they’re the supervisor! They were meant to save them!

(Isn’t it easy, for blot to possess the body of a dead teenager and for their soul and mind be consumed by the monster the teenager used to be a student with. It’s always GrimmYuu. You could never separate them.

Not really, anyways.)

But this is all just a fantasy, and this game will probably pull some Friendship Superpower or whatever, but just. What if man.

[deluluass]

Red, like blood. Blue, like love.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; bullying; soulmates au

Prompt: 88 & 183

There’s someone for everyone, you’d learned growing up.

 "Remember, blue means happy," your mother would say. "The happiest you'll ever be.”

She liked reminding you about this fact— for it is an indisputable truth, every so often when she could still carry you. You’d be hugged from the back, as she recounted stories of first meetings, serendipitous and life changing in their nature; belonging to those who’ve lived long before you, sometimes even those who’ve only lived in tales.

Mostly, your mother loved telling those involving the people she knew. And if you’ve behaved properly, she would tell you about hers. 

Tracing your palm, starting from the forked lines to the dashed ones on your fingers, she’d say, “These would start to glow like stars.”

“That’s weird!” you’d burst out, shrieking a laughter as she tickled you. 

“Listen carefully,” she chastised. “Blue is for your soulmate, okay?”

And you’d repeat: Blue is for my soulmate.

“Then, mama,” you tugged at her sleeves, “What if it’s really, really bright red! Like! Bloody glow sticks! Say, mama, you see, everyone at the park was talking about the man who died because he touched someone and his hand became bright re— ”

You never brought that up again. What your mother said about it had been enough to never make you forget.

“Tell me if you get red,” she said firmly, clutching your arms as if she feared someone would snatch you away from her. “Red is bad, my heart. Red means run.”

 It hadn’t nearly been as gruesome as your mother made it out to be. 

Case in point, when you turned twelve the couple three houses down your street found out, shortly after their honeymoon, that their palms gleamed a fierce red once they clasped each other’s hands in front of the neighborhood aunties.  

Their marriage ended with a swift and ordinary divorce, a year or so later.

Red: Not just an ominous warning for homicide, then. That was a relief, you’d thought.

Contrary to how your mother framed it, you were thankful, actually. It helped some of your friends escape from potentially hellish relationships. How lucky is it that you lived in a reality where the universe seemed exceedingly benevolent. Though, you sometimes have to question if that generosity extended to everyone.

Fat lot of good it did for you. 

Because, from where you’re standing, it doesn’t have to take some arbitrary and unsolvable scientific mystery to heed that Oikawa Tooru must be avoided like the plague.

Any person in your shoes would be conditioned to do exactly that. 

You’d first met in Elementary. You thought he was the prettiest kid you’d ever seen, with chestnut curls and doe eyes and lashes that swept past his cheeks, and when you’d asked for a hand shake he’d called you “the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen” and “fart face.” 

Recess and lunch were when he’s most fearsome. Spiky burdocks slapped on the collar of your dress; dead lizards in your food; the boy was determined. The worst part was that it always happened when no one was looking. And if someone were, it was his best friend. So when you finally told on him to your mom, both your teacher and the principal simply judged Oikawa as the victim of an attention deprived child.

“Please discipline your daughter,” they told her. “We are all aware of your situation at home, but do ensure that she’s not getting out of control.”

You couldn’t even muster up the strength to defend yourself. In that moment all you could do was swear that you’d never allow anyone to talk to your mother in that way again. 

You moved out of that school. 

You didn’t wait for your palms to flash a warning signal because, somehow, you knew that boys who discover early that they could get away with anything cannot get any better. 

There’d been no way to be sure of that until Aoba Johsai— after a peaceful interim of no Oikawa; no red palm lines (and no blue ones, either).

The proof hit you in the face. Literally. 

“Oi, Shittykawa!”

Heat permeated from your nostrils as you patted your cheek, detached and staring back at the large gymnasium. 

“You hit someone!”

How unlucky did a person have to be to bleed right on the first day of classes? 

You tried to lean forward. “It’s okay,” you slurred nasally, pinching your nose and averting your embarrassed gaze from the boy kneeling next to you.

“Trashykawa! You better hurry and apologize!”

“Don’t be mad, Iwa-chan,” that disgustingly saccharine voice came from behind you, making you flinch, as if the years you’d spent apart had done nothing to purge it out of your system.

In all honesty, you hadn’t really cared for whoever was responsible for the ball that careened all the way to where you were standing, so sure that it had to be an accident. No one in their right mind would want to injure someone they barely knew, especially if said someone is a couple of feet away from you. 

Morally and athletically, it should’ve been improbable. But then you saw who did it and everything made perfect sense.

Iwa-chan. The boy beside you. Iwaizumi Hajime.

If he’s here, then— 

“You,” he whispered. 

“Eh?! Gosh, I’m so sorry!” Oikawa Tooru gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

Time is cruel. It wears down on you, tears you and molds you into something you can’t even recognize, if it decides to. (Fate, more so). You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or laugh, looking at him. If the universe were so benevolent, then perhaps Oikawa Tooru had received all of its favor.

He was beautiful. You’d known this before, but with all the baby fat replaced with sharp yet slender angles, figure lean and imposing even when he’d lowered himself to meet your eyes, Oikawa didn’t seem real.

“I did hit someone, didn’t I?” he pouted, wiping the dried blood atop your lip. “And such a pretty girl, too.”

That volleyball existed should’ve made life better for you. It didn’t. If anything, it seemed that out of the court, when he’s not taking names and being praised like a god, you were his little pastime. Something fun to take his mind off whatever it is he thinks about it. 

The mocking comments, you could handle; every time you’d recite and he’ll interject with something playful and then the entire class would laugh (because he’s Oikawa) and your professor would reprimand him but you could always tell that they, too, are holding in a giggle. 

Those were easy to bear, because although his insults hit way too close to home, it’s just— it’s just so petty.

Really, it’s the aftermath that does the damage.

“They’re like Christmas lights under your skin!” 

This topic pops up every month or so. Most people your age can be lucky enough to meet their soulmate this early. 

“And it’s the most awesome feeling in the world,” your classmate sighed. “When we touched hands? Man. We just- we glowed.”

Then, the others would poke fun, faking a gagged expression, but they’d always ask afterwards, “What happened next?” And everytime, you’d watch from the sidelines. Like an uninvited audience. 

You tried being a part of it once, wanting to share about the time your close friend met her soulmate. But all you’d gotten were side eyes and titters, as if they were laughing about a joke only you didn’t know about. 

“They’re so mean to you.” 

You groaned.

Oikawa was seated behind you, resting his head against his elbow. Everyone was too busy talking about blue lights and destined souls to notice what’s happening at the back of the room. 

He continued, “Not including you in conversations, treating you like an outsider.”

You didn’t bite, focusing on the opened book in front of you.

“Must be lonely, having no one.”

“Oikawa,” you muttered under your breath. “I don’t have the energy for this.”

The silence that came after that was unexpected. You were sure it would be short lived; he’s just gearing up for more. He usually went at it until you’d have no choice but to physically remove yourself from his presence. You’d thought once that that may be why he does this so much. Maybe he still thought you were the “ugliest girl” he’s ever met and he wants you out of his sight. Because Oikawa’s infantile like that.

But the silence stayed, accompanied by the background noise of eager conversations; lingering some more as white, fluffy clouds passed by the glass windows. 

When he broke it, all Oikawa said was, “Soulmates, huh.”

You felt a finger touch your back, drawing the barest of lines over your uniform. He removed them just before you could stand up and leave. 

You disliked those moments with him. 

You disliked him especially when he played. 

Oikawa’s a monster, be it in volleyball or with you. There are times, though, that you’d notice some things that you think you’re not meant to see. Like after a serve— its impact booming throughout the court, he’d have this puzzling expression on his face. 

It looked like....anger. 

He scored a point, right? Everyone’s cheering for him, aren’t they? Wait, didn’t they win?

You thought maybe it’s the adrenaline making him nastier than usual, but sometimes you’d pass by the gym when he happens to be alone. And that anger is still there, punctuated by the sound of the ball exploding against the floor. Jump. Hit. Spike. Jump. Hit. Spike. He’d do it, again and again and again. 

As if he’s trying to grasp something even he cannot reach. 

Those instances should’ve taught you that the best thing to do is look away. 

That’s what you should’ve done. Look away.

They lost the Interhigh tournament.

You knew this not because you’d watched, but because for one day, Oikawa Tooru wasn’t your bully. 

The derision was replaced by sulking. He didn’t speak for the entire period. The funniest thing about it was that everyone kept staring at you. Like somehow you’d been the cause of this, when all of them were lamenting the loss just as much as the team itself. 

 What was supposed to be a reason for celebration suddenly became a crime that you had to explain for.

 “Great,” you grumbled to yourself. “One time I don’t have a target on my back, now I’m the bad guy.”

Trash bag in hand, the scraps inside rattled against each other as you stomped to the recycling bin, both sleeves of your P.E jacket folded up to the elbows. You affected a tone, choosing to mock the grating way some of classmates talked:

“Oh, hey, if it’s not too much,” you began. “Can you please be his punching bag again? If you will, can you relieve our superstar’s burdens? By, I don’t know, alluring him into walking all over you? Like the good old days! Please, oh please? We rely on you, oh Great Punching Bag! We Beseech thee, oh Esteemed Doormat! We compel— dude, what the fuck?!”

Crumpled papers and steel and tin cans rolled to the ground. You didn’t pick them up, like you should’ve; you left it there, trash bag lying open, and grabbed the ball that whisked mere inches from your face. 

This time you’re not making the same mistake. The asshole is more than capable of suspending what little morals he has, just to hurt someone he barely knew. As well as athletically adept (an understatement, that) at hitting a walking target; or not hitting it, in this case.  

You stormed the almost empty gym. Oikawa is a ray of sunshine, greeting you with that smile. It makes you want to punch him.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat. 

He chuckled. “Whoops. Sorry!” 

“I’m not having this-” you shoved the ball to his stomach. He didn’t even blink. “This isn’t gonna slide anymore, Oikawa.”

Wide grin still in place, he took it from your hands with his much larger ones and said, “Wow, you’re actually mad this time. ”  

Then, he added, “I didn’t mean it! Honest!” 

Must be nice, you thought with a scowl, to be him. Anyone can be sincere if they look anything like Oikawa. 

“Sure. Fine. No, actually,” you glowered. “You know what?” 

“Hm?” He tilted his head. Oikawa tilted his pretty little head.

You seethed. “I get it. You lost. That doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. I mean, what did I ever do to you, Oikawa? I have-” you exhaled, surprised by the break in your voice. 

“I haven’t done anything to you. We stopped being kids a long time ago. That shit you pull should’ve ended by now. We’ve grown.” You jabbed his chest. “But I see that maybe not all of us have.”

His pleased expression hadn’t dropped. “Ouch,” Oikawa grimaced, glancing amusedly at the place you’d touched. “How mean.”

This isn’t going anywhere. 

You don’t know why it took you this long to realize this, as you shifted your gaze away from him, noticing the gashes on the floor that tear the surface like scars that never healed. That must’ve been because of him, with the amount of practice he does. 

“It won’t be enough, won’t it, Oikawa?” you whispered. “Not for you.”

The smile that’s been there since you arrived tensed, straining at the corners of his lips. 

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” he beamed. 

He was bathing in his own sweat, seeping through his shirt and matting his hair to his face, and he looks— Oikawa looked tired. His eyes were sunken in, too. Did he even sleep?

You’re so used to seeing him not a hair out of place, with a sweet scent that you amusedly thought lures his gaggle of admirers into following him everywhere. It takes you aback, honestly. Particularly the wobble in his step as he bent and squeezed his knee with shaky fingers.

You don’t think he’s aware he’s doing it in front of you.

Then, just like that, everything seemed to have added up.  

“You’ll never be happy,” you said.

You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve left. Instead, you looked him in those brown eyes, the warm hue becoming a lot colder as he moved closer. 

Oikawa sneered. “And what do you know, huh?” 

(Go. Leave.)

“Nothing,” you told him. “I don’t- I don’t know. Because, I don’t get it.”

(Shut up. Shut up.)

“Why you try any harder, I don’t know. Win or lose, it’s all the same. You’re still the same. You’re still awful and annoying and- and still you.” You laughed, unsure why you’re running your mouth like this. 

“Win or lose. Oikawa is still Oikawa,” you breathed in. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

His teammates must’ve gone somewhere. For lunch, maybe, you thought as you eyed the abandoned bottles and used towels scattered around the court. “Besides,” you huffed, not without a twinge of envy. “They’ll all still love you, either way.” 

Everything went still for a while, and you’d just realized what you’d just said.

“What about you?” 

You looked back at him.

“What?”

He tipped his chin. You stepped backwards. 

He brushed your wrist.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he only smiled and wrapped his entire hand around it. 

Oikawa had been your first bully. Before you could even comprehend what that meant, Oikawa had been the source of your mother’s worries whenever she parted with you at the school gates. It is funny, thinking about it, for letting this boy affect you despite making an effort to stay away the first time. 

But it is only now— now that he has a firm hold on you, gentle yet smothering— that you truly feared Oikawa Tooru. 

It rattled your breath, squeezing your heart and refusing air to pass through your lungs, as you felt a shock zap through you. And apparently through him as well.

You broke away from each out with a cry.

Your hand was burning. That’s the only explanation for it. Your hand was burning and any moment now smoke will diffuse from the pores. 

You waited. Any moment now. But the more you stared at it the more tiny spots of flames sparked under your skin, bursting along the palm lines— first, the forked ones; then, the dashed lines— glaring back at you, glowing brighter, blotting and spreading until they mapped your palms then your entire hands like constellations. 

“Red is bad, my heart,” your mother said. “Red means run.”

“I knew it,” you scoffed, shaking your head. 

Well, it’s not as if this is news to you. 

“What about that, Oikawa?” You put both your radiating hands in the air. “The universe is telling us, you and I? We just don’t—”

Why are you crying?

Why is Oikawa crying? 

“I knew it,” he croaked.

Your mother made the red light sound so horrifying for a reason. 

There has to be a reason, too, why the universe is warning you so late into your life. You’d actually ran before. And when you thought it a waste of money, you chose to stay and not fight back; thinking that his punches have become less severe, degraded into verbal taunts that induce social exclusion at most; that, certainly, red doesn’t forbode something as bad as murder, right?

Well, what now? You were wrong, after all. This time you have a feeling that you actually need to hide. 

Because Oikawa’s looking at you like you’re the last two people left in this Earth. 

Just you and him. Without any need for anybody else. 

You didn’t breathe, attempting to bolt despite the overwhelming need to throw up right where you're standing. He stepped closer, faster than you’d liked, and touched your face, caressing your cheek up to your aching temple.

“You should really stop trying to run away,” he said, voice low as if he’s sharing a secret. “I’ll always find you, you know?”

You didn’t have to look to know. Even if you closed your eyes, as well, you know it’s still going to be there; glowing in the darkness behind your eyelids.

“Me and you—” Oikawa sighed. 

Listen carefully, your mother said.

“ —we have a connection that no one else will ever understand,” he said.

The light emitting from his hand was so harsh it hurt you, pricking your sight until it drew fat tears, reflecting against your damp face and tinting the fallen streaks with bright—

Blue means happy, she told you. The happiest you’ll ever be.

And you’d repeat: Blue. Blue is for—

“My soulmate," Oikawa said, before locking you in a deep, searing kiss. 

The lights didn't die even as he dragged you into the storage room.  

"Hey, where'd senpai go?" 

The rest of the volleyball team came in droves, occupying the hollow court with their squeaking shoes and questions about Oikawa's whereabouts.

"Must've gone somewhere," you heard a deep voice say. 

You could answer that question. All you  had to do was scream. They weren't so far from the room that they wouldn't pick it up over the noise of their volleyball practice. Really, if you needed to, you could even outshout their guttural yells of "Nice kill!"

Though, you'd have to remove the underwear lodged in your mouth first. 

Yours, in fact; soaked now by your own saliva, drool dripping to your chin as your wrists chafed against the rope that's keeping them tied at your back.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" You felt every sickening movement of Oikawa's lips against your throat. "Feels good when you- ah, fuck- when you give in."

With the cloth muting your shrill bawling, you tried your best to recall how you ended up here: seated on his lap as he sluggishly humped himself against you, his still glowing hands cupping your ass.  

The only thing left on your body was your bra, and even that he's already lowered to let your tits spill over the top. Your pants and t-shirt and jacket are lying around somewhere. You couldn't determine where in particular; the only sources of light were behind you.  

He was leaving imprints of blue all over your skin; around your waist as he slithered his hands to reach your breasts, scantily brushing over the hardened nipples and making you keel over.

"So sensitive," he tutted, smooching your neck so gently that even the underwear couldn't muffle your loud yelp when he suddenly bit into the flesh. Hard. 

You wanted to claw his eyes out and call for help and you wanted badly to scream don't do that Oikawa someone please save me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me-

But the gag remained intact and the boys outside continued their game, ignorant that their precious captain is taking everything away from you. 

Sharp canines bruised your skin, provoking a fresh batch of tears as he sucked and licked every after cruel bite. 

Then, when you thought the worst had passed, he removed his mouth from your neck to spit onto your bare cunt, allowing it to slide from the hair on your mound to the nub sticking out in the middle.

(It is not enough that he is killing you. Oikawa must defile you, too.)

His fingers gripped the insides of your thighs open when you tried to shut them together. "Don't be a brat," he clicked his tongue.

"Be a nice little kitten for me," Oikawa drawled, smearing the slick that's soaking your folds against the spittle coating your clit.

You didn't notice when he'd taken his cock out, you only realize that he's about to enter you when he teased your entrance with it, pushing the tip to nudge the drenched hole, only to pull it back again.

And you didn't dare look. The feel of it almost stretching you out with just the head is already driving you to insipid begging.

"What'd you say, kitten?" he pouted.

Oikawa you've already taken too much is it never going to be enough Oikawa let me go.

"I can't understand you," he chuckled. "Here—"

He pulled the underwear out of your mouth as he thrust all the way inside, your back arching, driving him deeper, as his cock throbbed against your pussy walls.

"Now, what were you saying?"

You swallowed your cries and heaved and swore you were gonna tear his heart out after this. 

"Say," he whispered, sniffing your wet panties without breaking his gaze. "If everyone saw us right now, how'd you think they'd react?"

It was so reverent, the way he did it, blue light revealing that he closed his eyes as he took a whiff, as if he hung onto your scent like a lifeline.

But you thought that'd been a calculated move, because as you dumbly stared at him, he immediately gyrated his hips under you, rocking back and forth ever so slowly, and you remembered that you had to keep quiet.

His cock was so big inside you, making you bite your lip as it filled you up, the curved tip hitting a spot that has you squirming in his embrace.

"At this point they'll know how much of a whore you are," he said, tangling his muscled arms around yours and anchoring you to his body. "Made just for me."

"Oika-Oikawa…"

You don't know this person. 

"Help..me.."

You don't know who's speaking out and whimpering for Oikawa, on her knees and bouncing up and down on his lap with weak, quivering thighs. 

It couldn't be you.

"Help you?" You felt him nuzzle your neck. "I thought you wanted me to stay away, though?"

Someone mewled out a pathetic, "N-no."

"No? Then what d'you want, kitten?"

(Oh. Oh, he feels so fucking good.)

Your belly has never felt this hot before and it's driving you crazy that you're chasing for something you cannot see and it feels so near but there's something, something that's keeping you from it that all you can do is grind your sopping cunt closer to him.

"Wanna- I wanna cum."

Oikawa kissed you on the forehead, and then he said, "Go ahead, then."

He released your arms. 

Then, he's scooping cum off your pussy, making sure to drag his fingers under the lips, before circling your large, swelling clit. Then, he's sucking your tits and swirling his tongue around a nipple and you're so so close.

"That's it," Oikawa sighed. "Ride my cock, baby."

His rough palm slapped both your ass cheeks and the cry that erupted from you only made him laugh. 

"Make yourself cum on my cock," he grunted, licking his smiling lips as he leaned back against the wall, hand idly rubbing your dripping clit. "You're making a mess, darling. Leaking like that."

You're quivering all over; your cunt is spasming and your legs are complaining beneath you, but you don't stop. You lift your hips and then sink your pussy down, down until you feel his balls touching your sore ass, the sloshing sound growing louder as you move faster. 

You don't think about what this'll all mean later, what you're doing giving in to him, when you scream out his name. But as soon as you did, Oikawa's growl had been your only warning.

He grabbed the back of your head and kissed you, plunging his tongue into your throat, his strong arms pressing you so close to him you can no longer tell his skin from yours, his battering heartbeat from yours. 

You didn't move—weren't allowed to, when he hammered his cock into you, pounding your cunt and fucking you raw until you're breathless and nothing but a shuddering wreck, splitting at the seams in his hands as you feel thick spurts of hot cum slide out of you. 

"My pretty girl," came his hoarse whisper. "My pretty, pretty girl."

The lights have dimmed, when he cradled your shaking form and moved out of you, faint traces left on just the palm lines and fingertips. 

They were flooded by the sudden brightness that enveloped the storage room.

"Holy shit."

You pressed your eyes close, your entire body prickling at Oikawa’s touch.

It shouldn't be surprising, at this point, that Oikawa, as quick as he'd stripped you off of everything, has already covered you back in your jacket. The smell of it striking you ruthlessly, that old cologne that you always use to school reminding you of who you were, before all this.

Had it only been a few hours? It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Ah," Oikawa murmured. "They caught us."

"Oikawa,” someone roared. Oikawa held you, hiding your face against his chest. “Why you son of a-"

"C-coach..! Stop- Oi, someone help me hold him- no, coach! "

You heard him chuckle. “Sorry about this, everyone.” He held up his hand and you had to keep yourself from sobbing. “But, look.”

There were several gasps. 

(Everybody knows now.)

“You..and her?” 

The boy who said that sounded so astonished, clearly overjoyed for some reason, that it revolted you.

“Mhm,” he nodded, a smile in his voice. “Now, can you guys please give us some privacy?” 

Feet shuffled out of the room, along with stuttered apologies. They all left. 

Except for one.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted.

“What did you do, Oikawa?”

A beat. Then, he repeated, “Iwa-chan.”

Please. 

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything. 

Please help me.

“Sure,” he grunted.

He was gone, too, after that.

You were back in the darkness, with nothing but the faltering red and blue on your hands and his, while he untied your wrists and kneaded the abrasion away, cooing sweet nothings to your ear. 

“I hate you,” you rasped. 

“Don’t say that.”

“I fucking hate you-”

“Please stop yelling-”

“I won’t ever forgive you, Oikawa!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he cried, shaking his head as he brushed your tear-stained cheeks with both thumbs. You clutched them, wanting him off you, but he only latched himself firmly into you. “We’re meant to be.”

“You’re the only one for me.” 

Oikawa brought your numb hand to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm, the red light basking him in its soft glow.

“And I’m the only one for you,” he said, intertwining your fingers together. 

The lights flickered in and out, at first, as you stared vacantly into it, the red and blue swallowing each other. Until they finally disappeared, leaving just you and him, curled against each other in the shadows. 

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 2)

i quite liked this story and thought it totally had potential for more, so i’ve cooked up a part 2, continuing the idea. i have no clear plan with this, just enjoyed taking the story further, but i might turn it into a proper series if you guys are enjoying the concept!

pairing:  Harry x actress!reader

word count: ~3.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

The car comes to a halt and you look up from your phone after being so occupied with texts you’ve been ignoring all afternoon.

“We’ve arrived, Miss,” The driver, Lawrence informs you in his usual, polite manner, looking at you through the mirror.

“Oh, thank you so much,” you breathe out grabbing your purse from the seat next to you. “I don’t think I’ll take too long, I’m not really in the mood to party,” you let him know, quickly running your hand through your hair before getting out, already knowing paparazzi is waiting for all guests at the entrance probably.

“Had a long day?” he asks with a soft smile.

“Kind of,” you sigh nodding. “I’ll text you when I’ll feel like heading home soon, alright?”

“Perfect. Have a great night, Miss,” Lawrence nods.

“Thank you,” you nod at him before opening the door and getting out of the car. Strategically, Lawrence stopped just a few buildings away from the club, so you wouldn’t be attacked right away, emerging from the car. This gives you enough time to fix your dress and avoid your private parts to end up on the tabloids. Not something you want to include in your career, if you’re being honest.

Shutting the door closed you head towards the club that has quite a long line of people waiting outside, though you have no idea why. If they are not on the list, there’s no way they’ll get inside, it’s a private party.

As you approach the entrance, people start to recognize you quite quickly and you hear your name coming from all direction, but you just flash a smile in their way, continuing to walk with the intention of getting inside as fast as possible.

Just as you expected, paparazzi are already waiting at the entrance and they start flashing their cameras in your way right away, throwing all kinds of questions at you that are left completely ignored.

The bouncer checks your name on the list and lets you inside without a fuss and you’re happy to leave the madness behind and mingle in the crowd of familiar faces.

Tonight is the celebration of the birthday of a good friend, a quite old friend of yours. Florence and you met quite some years ago, when both of you were only trying your luck in the industry, working hard to make yourselves a name. Now you are both are in the inner circle of Hollywood, piling iconic roles on your resumes together. So much has changed, people keep coming and going in your life, but the two of you managed to stay close and keep each other grounded when it was needed.

You keep saying hello to the people you know as you make your way through the guests, hugging a few guests, asking if they have seen Florence and they all point towards the bar. Unsurprisingly, you find the birthday girl right there, with a group of people circling around her as the bartender places a row of shots to the counter and her eyes light up at the sight of all the alcohol.

“Not even surprised you are already plastered,” you grin at her and she squeals upon seeing you join the little circle. Throwing her arms around you she jumps at you mumbling her greeting.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” she breathes out, clearly over a few drinks at this point. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages!”

“It happens when we are both working on a movie at the same time, in different cities,” you chuckle giving her a look.

This past month has been rather busy, you were in Atlanta finishing up filming your latest movie while Florence was in Palm Springs, working on Don’t Worry Darling, she barely made it back to the city to her own birthday party, apparently they wrapped filming just two days ago so it was a close call.

“You have to take a shot with me!” she urges, already grabbing two shots from the bar and handing you one of them, not even waiting for your answer.

“Cheers to the birthday girl!” you hold your glass up after everyone else grabbed a shot, everyone around wishes her a happy birthday again before sending down the alcohol.

You can’t help the grimace that pulls on your face as the liquor burns down your throat. It’s been a while since the last time you had anything other than a few glasses of wine, it’ll take some time to get used to the stomach churning taste.

As the host of the party and the birthday girl, Florence’s presence is in high demand, so you don’t get to spend too much time with her, but you don’t blame her. Ordering a longer drink for you, sticking with some tequila based cocktail as you mingle in the crowd of guests.

Luckily, there are quite a lot familiar faces and you don’t have to linger around the club on your own. You move to a booth at the side with Sydney, a producer you and Florence both worked together previously. She is pretty new in the world of films, but she surely is a talent and you can’t wait for everyone to realize what a blessing she and her art is. You’re joined by her girlfriend, Emma and the three of you are deep in conversation, sharing the funniest stories that happened to you lately and surprisingly, you are genuinely having a good time. You really weren’t in the mood for a party after such a long and frustrating day, having scrunched in three auditions to one day because your manager messed the dates up. When you finished with the third ones, you wanted nothing else than to just sink into a nice bath, have a glass of wine and go to bed early, making your friends’ point of you being a grandma quite valid. However you didn’t have the heart to cancel on Florence, but now that you’ve had some alcohol buzzing in your system and some good company, you don’t regret coming at all.

Once you get to the end of your drink you head back to the bar to have another one, not feeling like leaving just yet. Pushing your way through the people, some keep saying hi to you and you greet everyone back with an instinct, even if you don’t know them. Something you’ve grown to do over your years being in the spotlight.

Standing in line, just like everyone else, you patiently wait to get to the front, when you feel someone bump against you from behind.

“Excuse me—Oh! If it isn’t my favorite Never Have I Ever game partner!”

Your eyes are met with a pair of green ones and a dimpled smile, you can’t help but chuckle as you turn to greet Harry.

“Hi there! Long time no see!” you smile as he pulls you into a side-hug and stands with you in the line.

“You know, maybe you would’ve seen me earlier if you actually gave me your number,” he comments with a sly smile and you have nothing to defend yourself with, he is completely right.

That day the two of you met on The Ellen Show you were actually planning to give him your number, but once your part of the filming ended your manager called you about something urgent and you couldn’t wait for him to finish as well, leaving the studio without ever giving him the chance to even ask for your number. You felt guilty and a little disappointed, but thought your paths would sooner or later cross somehow and it seems like you were right.

“I’m sorry about that. I had some papers to sign before the office closed, I had to leave,” you apologize truthfully and he nods understanding.

“S’alright. I was a little bummed, but I get it.”

“So what are you doing here?” you ask, moving forward in the line, getting closer to the front. Harry gives you a quick look that you can’t quite read before answering.

“I uhh—Florence and I filmed together last month.”

That’s when it clicks. She told you and you read about it, but you tend to forget these kind of things, not having enough capacity to keep everything in mind, only restricting it to the most important stuff.

“Oh, right! Yeah, sorry. Totally slipped my mind. Sorry, I sounded like I live under a rock,” you awkwardly chuckle, feeling a little ashamed that you didn’t remember, when Florence even mentioned it herself before she travelled to Palm Springs, but you were running on caffeine and protein bars between takes, it’s a luck you didn’t even forget your own name after those busy weeks.

“No, s’alright. Nice to know not everyone is drowning in the content that’s been put out of me lately,” he chuckles lowly. “You look lovely, by the way,” he nods at you, eyes running down your body quickly, before they return to your gaze.

“Oh, thank you,” you breathe out looking down at yourself, as if you forgot what you were wearing. It’s a little, black Gucci dress, quite vintage with some embroidered floral patterns along the slightly daring neckline. “It’s Gucci,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Oh!”

“Know you are obsessed with it,” you add with a chuckle, seemingly surprising him with your knowledge about him.

“Someone did some research about me then?”

“I’ll admit, I might have searched your name one of those nights after I had a nice glass of wine.”

“And what else did you find out about me?” he arches an eyebrow at you, making your cheeks heating up. You shouldn’t have admitted that you searched him, he’ll think you’re some kind of stalker, which you are not, you just like to catch up on things sometimes. Though you are clearly a fan of his music and you know about his career vaguely, you haven’t been keeping an eye on him that closely lately, only because you didn’t have the time. However after meeting him at the taping, he was stuck on your mind for days before you gave in and checked out what he’s been up to lately and went through some in-depth articles about him from the past years, closing the line with his latest Vogue issue.

“Nothing shocking,” you simply answer and luckily, you are next up at the bar. You ask for another cocktail and Harry chimes in, adding a beer to the order.

“I hope you know I won’t let you leave until you give me your number this time,” he smirks at you cheekily, making you chuckle.

“I never said I would give it to you.” Wanting to play a little you shrug innocently, earning a stunned look.

“Making me work for it? Alright,” he nods, trying his best to hold his grin back.

The bartender comes back with the drinks and Harry is quick to whip his card out and pay for yours as well. You’re not surprised when he follows you back to the booth to Sydney and Emma. They both greet you with bright smiles upon arriving with Harry.

“This is Sydney and Emma. Syd and I worked together a while ago. Ladies, this is—“ You start the introduction, but Sydney cuts you off quickly.

“Harry Styles. You don’t have to introduce him to us,” she chuckles shaking hand with the fourth guest at the table. “I was a big One Direction fan,” she adds with a chuckle and that’s a new information. As a former fan girl, she is holding herself quite alright in the presence of her idol.

“Oh, nice!” Harry beams, genuinely looking delighted at the information.

“Her playlists have at least one One Direction song on them still this day,” Emma laughs shaking her head, while Syd just shrugs innocently.

The four of you are quick to engage in a conversation about music, mostly about what you listened to when you were teenagers and you are having some laughs at the odd taste you all used to have.

“I think my most played song was Crazy by Britney Spears. I was obsessed with that song,” you admit and Emma groans throwing her hands in the air.

“I loved that song! Even learned the choreography!” she shares, making everyone laugh around the table.

“I bet you did too,” Harry grins in your way over his half empty beer.

“Totally did not,” you scoff with a pretentious grimace that makes it clear that you in fact did.

“I would give an arm to see you dance to that song,” he sighs with an amused grin and you just chuckle, taking another sip from your drink.

At one point Florence joins the booth, buzzing from all the birthday shots she’s been constantly taking, but making sure you all are having a good time.

“I see you guys met again!” she beams looking at you and Harry sitting next to each other. “Y/N, wanna hear something funny?” she smirks at you with glistening eyes.

“Always,” you chuckle softly.

“Once on set, I caught Harry stalking your Instagram.” The man in talk almost chokes on his beer as Florence starts laughing, clearly enjoying how she just busted her co-star, but you are having a blast at how nervous her comment got him and you find the story quite flattering.

“Flo, I think you had enough to drink,” Harry tells her, urging her to leave the booth, but she is way too caught up in getting him into trouble.

“Are you ashamed she now knows you were checking out her sexy photos for that perfume campaign she did last year?” she continues, giving away even more details. Your eyebrows run up as you look at Harry, who is desperately trying to avoid your burning gaze.

“Oh, so you’re a fond of my pictures?” you tease him, his cheeks turning redder with each passing moment.

“I mean… You looked really good.”

“And quite half naked, only covering myself with a huge perfume bottle,” you add chuckling, enjoying it probably a little too much than you should, but Harry has been so confident, flirting with you, it’s funny to see him so flustered all of a sudden.

Harry lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck while Florence taps his shoulder, saying something that sounded like ‘good luck, man’ before she moves over to the next group of people.

“I wasn’t stalking, your profile just popped up and—“

“Harry,” you stop him with a chuckle. “It’s fine, I was just messing with you.”

“Way to make me a wreck, Y/N,” he shoots you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk pulling on his lips.

“If it makes you feel better I checked your profile a few times too,” you admit and once again, he seems surprised.

“It does make me feel better,” he nods, his sly smirk growing wider with each passing moment he spends staring at you.

Though you’ve been enjoying the night so far you are running low on energy, so when you see it’s already past midnight you send a text to Lawrence letting him know you are planning to leave soon.

Luckily, Florence is at one of the booths near yours, so you excuse yourself from your table, walking over to her to say your goodbye.

“Leaving already?” she pouts, returning your hug.

“I’ve had a long day, I wouldn’t want to be the grumpy guest to ruin others’ night,” you tell her with an apologetic smile and she nods understanding.

“I’m happy I saw you. We need to do something sometime soon!”

“Sure thing. I’ll have a looser schedule in the upcoming months. Call me whenever you are around and free,” you tell her kissing her cheek and giving her hand a soft squeeze. “Happy birthday once more.” “Thank you babe!” she cheers as you let go of each other.

Walking back to your booth you say goodbye to Sydney and Emma, making the same promise to meet up with them sometime soon. When you turn to Harry he is already up on his feet and offers to walk you out.

“Just to the exit. There are a shit ton of paparazzi outside,” you tell him and he nods, placing a hand to your lower back, ushering you through the crowd. The two of you stop near the exit since Lawrence hasn’t replied to you that he has arrived and you definitely don’t want to wait outside.

“So, are you gonna leave without giving me your number this time as well?” he asks tilting his head to the side as he hides his hands in his pockets lazily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to see if fate is gonna throw you in my way again,” you tease him, but reach for your phone in your purse. “Send yourself a text,” you tell him handing him the device.

He doesn’t try to hide the satisfied grin as he types his number in and sends a quick text to himself so he has your number. Handing it back you just take it and check if Lawrence has texted you. Right at that moment the screen lights up with a short ‘I’ve arrived, Miss’ text and you slide the phone back into your purse.

“Well, it’s been nice seeing you again, Harry,” you say your goodbye and stepping closer you engage in a short, but tight hug.

“You too, Y/N,” he smiles down at you. “Never have I ever had the number of an Emmy nominated actress’ number,” he smirks making you laugh.

“Drink up, Styles,” you tell him cheekily before you walk away, out of the club.

Lawrence is parked right in front of the building and you try to shield your vision from all the flashes as you get into the back seat as fast as possible.

“Hello, Lawrence!” you greet the man in a very delighted mood and he senses the change in you.

“Had a great evening, Miss?” he asks as he leaves from the club and heads to your apartment’s building.

“I did,” you nod biting into your bottom lip. Reaching into your purse you pull your phone out to check the text Harry sent himself.

You can’t help the chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see the short message he sent to his contact that he just saved under Harry S.

“I promise I won’t ghost you.” That’s what the text reads and as you are looking at the conversation you see the bubble popping up that signals that he is typing right now.

“So nice of you. Please keep that promise!” His text appears on the screen and you chuckle under your breath.

“Cheeky.” You write back.

“Maybe, but now I have evidence. Don’t even try to put me on your ghosted list!”

“Will think about it…” you write back with a sly smile before you lock the phone and put it away, letting your head rest against the back of the seat, eyes closing as you can’t wipe the smile off your face.

PREVIOUS PART

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[ketamineharry]

I Love Me - Harry Lewis

Requested - Yes ~ can I request an ethan/Harry one where the reader is curvy (bigger boobs/bum/hips etc) compared to Talia + Freya and the other girlfriends and they are on holiday with everyone and the reader feels a bit insecure and scared of what everyone will think when they look at photos, have photo shoots and insta comments, love you and your writing!! 🤍

Trigger Warnings: Body image issues, self-confidence issues

Authors Note: This was originally requested as a holiday, but I changed it slightly as my most recent imagine was a holiday themed one. I hope you don’t mind!

As you entered the restaurant, an uneasy feeling took over you. Usually, being seen out in public with your friends, and your boyfriend Harry wouldn’t phase you — but over lockdown, you had put on a few pounds. Expressing your emotions in a healthy way, had never been your forte so when the lockdown restrictions hit, instead of going to the local pub to drink your sorrows away, with a group of friends you had turned to eating. Comfort eating had become the norm whenever you felt sad, lonely, happy, or to put it more accurately whenever you felt anything.

While you had been piling on the pounds, Talia and Freya, had been keeping to a strict fitness regime. So naturally, they looked incredible. While you just felt deflated. To make matters worse, this was a Sidemen dinner, meaning that not only were there going to be pictures, but eyes were going to be firmly on your table.

Instinctively, as you walked you grabbed for Harry’s hand. Thankfully, he was slightly in front of you, so you could hide yourself behind his broad frame. As soon as your fingers entwined, you found a sense of serenity; despite how short lived that may have been.

As the others crowded around the table, trying to figure out seating arrangements, you focussed your energy in trying to remain calm. All you wanted was to have a seat on the outskirts, so that you wouldn’t have to participate in the group Instagram photos. The self-loathing from the way you looked in this moment was enough to fuel your insecurities for a good few months, you certainly didn’t need the constant reminder on Instagram too.

Luckily, you managed to secure the seat you wanted. Josh, being the father of the group dictated where everyone else was going to sit. Usually, there was a rule of thumb that you sat in couples; but you had ended up sitting in between JJ and Freya. Harry was on the opposite side of the table, his phone in one hand, completely engrossed in an app, knowing him it was most likely Twitter. However, in this seating arrangement you felt sick. Your one lifeline, although not ridiculously far from you, had been cut off. You were going to have to brave this one out.

The waiter approached the table and introduced themselves. He had a cheery disposition until they made eye contact with you, their fake customer service smile fading as he served you his best judgemental glare. It lasted a split second, but you knew what it meant. The feeling of being out of your depth was confirmed in that look, it wasn’t just you that felt it, it was felt by those looking in on this dynamic of people. Why would they want to associate themselves with you?

“And for the lady?” He asked, glancing over at you again. His demeanour changed once more. You remained silent for a moment, mulling over whether to ask for what you actually wanted or order something that you didn’t want to avoid more disapproving glares.

“May I suggest the chicken caesar salad.” He adds, knocking you out of your stream of consciousness.

“That would be lovely thank you.” You respond. The last thing that you wanted was to cause a scene. In fact, the thing you wanted most was to be ignored, unseen. It was blatantly obvious what everyone was thinking, where their stares ended up… all on you.

The plates of food started to arrive, being placed before everyone. You looked around, envious. Their food all looked insanely good, Talia had mac and cheese while Freya had a vegetarian lasagne. To say that you were covetous, as you chowed down on some lettuce, was an understatement. Just some flavour would have been nice.

The same waiter came back to see if anyone wanted any desserts, Harry ordered a chocolate cake with some whipped cream and Freya ordered a cheesecake, Ethan wanted a coffee, the others weren’t really bothered though. What was made apparent, was that you weren’t even asked by the waiter.

Freya turned to you, a sympathetic look on her face. “Are you ok?” She asked, as she placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled unconvincingly, certain that Freya could pick up on how you were feeling. She had been sitting next to you the entire time after all.

“Let’s go to the ladies yeah? I’ll just text Josh to let him know what’s going on.” She said, as she retrieved her phone from her bag. She quickly sent the text before she grabbed your hand and directed you to the bathroom.

Freya held the door open for you, as you both walked inside, she went over to the sinks and climbed up on top of them. Crossing her arms. Inspecting you slightly.

“So, spill… what’s wrong with ya?” She questioned, with a small reassuring smile.

You took a deep breath in and out, as you tried to steady yourself. As much as you loved Freya, talking about your feelings to anyone was a challenge that you faced daily. It was hard enough being open with Harry about your feelings, and he was the person that you trusted most. Never mind one of your closest friends.

“I hate the way I look.” You confessed, as you subconsciously started to tug at the dress you were wearing. It all of a sudden felt too tight, too claustrophobic, as if the material had shrunk from the time it took you to walk from your table into the bathroom.

“You and Talia, you are both gorgeous and slim. I’m not that way at all. You can wear whatever you want and look good. If I so much as looked at a belly top, people would be disgusted.”

Freya remained silent, letting you ramble on about how much you hated your body and what you looked like. How out of place you felt and what you wish you could change about yourself. When you were finally finished, she jumped down off of the counter and engulfed you in a hug.

“Don’t you ever, ever feel like you aren’t good enough. You are the funniest person I have ever met. You make me belly laugh every single day. You spread so much positivity, and you make sure that everyone around you feels loved. I am slim, but do you know what… I’d kill for a rack like yours.” She whispered, as she comforted you.

“As for that asshole waiter who has been making you feel like shit all night, don’t think that no-one else has noticed it, because they have. They’re all too polite to embarrass him in public, but trust me, he’ll get his comeuppance. Now, wipe those tears and let’s go show him what a fucking bad ass bitch you are.” She laughed, as she grabbed your hand once again, as she led you back out to the table.

The bill was laid out on the table, the seven cards were placed on top of it as you rejoined the group.

“Here she is.” Harry beamed, as he reached out for you. You went and gave him a hug, before taking your seat again.

As the waiter collected the bill, Harry called him over. “I’d like to give you a cash tip, can you follow me outside so I can draw the cash out?” He asked. The waiter nodded, a gleam in his eye. Harry gave you a gesture, letting you know to follow him.

Once you were outside, how cold it was finally hit you. It made you recoil into yourself.

“Yeah, the tip I wanted to give you was to never, and I mean never try to ridicule my girlfriend about anything.” Harry said, swiftly connecting his right fist to the waiters cheek.

“Run.” He shouted, as he grabbed your hand, your feet pounding on the floor until you reached the car. You were both panting, leaning on each other for support.

“You do know you’re still a ten out of ten to me. No matter what.” Harry smiled, as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. “Now let’s go and get a McDonalds, because I know you’re still hungry and it’s your favourite.”

[blorbosondeck]

fic rec masterlist

canon divergent/finale fix its

Anamnesis

THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!

"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas

GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face

The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts​

repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it

“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”

Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?

VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!! 

"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."

Keep Your Love Alive

okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much

"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"

The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas​

this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️

“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“

Ascend by @wanderingcas​ 

THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss

“Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?”

Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles

i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen

Closer (isn't close enough)

are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.

“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”

You and Your Husband

it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3

"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."

Tall Grass

miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3 

Invictus

a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it

“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.

Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.

They still have someone they need to save.”

Unchained Link

post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!

"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."

fun and time unspecified

Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5

very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️

"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."

The Way We Were

Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual

"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"

While You Were Sleeping

this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up. 

aus/rewrites

The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript

i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it

“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“

absolute riots

An Ineffably Profound Bond

i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this

"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.

When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."

Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige

cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it

“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“

Stray Cat Strut

a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this

"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.

Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"

canon compliant or slight canon divergence

Give

by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic

Punch Like Bones 

short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten

[fandomficsnstuff]

Healer - Part 2

Ivar x Modern!Reader

(Warnings: I don’t think there are any warnings, but let me know if I’m wrong)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn’t stop running, not until you were forced to, a branch catching your foot, making you fall and scrape your knee on a sharp rock. You silently sobbed, not because of the pain but because you had no idea where you were, you were alone in a foreign place with foreign people, strange things were happening and it finally broke you. You pulled your knees to your chest as it began to rain, hugging them tightly against you as you sobbed, ignoring the blood that spilled from the cut on your knee, mixing with the rain that ran down your body and soaked you completely. You weren’t sure how long you sat on the forest ground, ignoring the cold rain, but you had stopped crying, blankly staring at the ground in silence as nothing but the sound of rain hitting the ground and surrounding forage filled your ears. You think you heard voices but you didn’t care, you felt alone and tired, you had no one, and the extremely sad part? You didn’t really think anyone back home would miss you. You didn’t have any family left, no real friends, not even at work or in the apartment you lived in, no one would miss you, no one would look for you. The thought caused another wave of fresh tear to form in your eyes, but before they had a chance to fall you heard footsteps, looking up you saw Ubbe and Hvitserk, looking down at you with sympathetic looks.

You let Hvitserk pick you up bridal style and carried you back to Kattegat, the whole way you were quiet, just staring at nothing in particular as they carried you inside the big hall, eyes on you as they placed you in front of the fire, Hvitserk attempted to give you his fur coat but you just brushed it off, staring at the flames with an empty look on your face. You knew they were just trying to help but you didn’t want their help, maybe it was selfish, but you just wanted to be alone. You felt a cough work it’s way up your throat, making you cough into the crook of your elbow as you continued to stare blankly at the flames in front of you. Ubbe next tried to get a fur coat over you but you rejected that as well “leave me alone…” you quietly asked, even though you knew they didn’t understand you. You pulled your knees to your chest again and curled up in a ball, watching the flames as tears silently rolled down your cheeks, your face void of emotion, even as some soup was placed in front of you, probably in an attempt to warm you up, but you were just fine with the flames licking your skin, it’s what should have happened so long ago, right? Why not now? Next Björn entered, whispering something to the others and you felt their eyes on you.

Björn approached and kneeled down in front of you, his eyes soft despite how cold his face seemed. “The seer told me” he said in broken english, making you look at him with a slight frown “he did not… talk much. But talk enough” he said, looking at you with slightly raised brows, as if asking if you could understand him. You gently nodded and Björn did so as well, glancing at the others before looking back at you with a softer expression “you eat, yes? Get strong, learn, speak like us. Then we speak, good?” he asked and for a second you didn’t answer, looking into the flames before hesitantly taking the soup and the spoon that was given to you, hesitantly eating what was served to you, taking tiny slurps from the soup, reluctant but obeying nonetheless. Björn nodded and got up, taking the fur coat you had refused to wear and put it over your shoulders gently, walking out of the hall and leaving you alone with the others.

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Months, it had been months since you had arrived here, and slowly everything was starting to seem more real. You had learnt most of their language by now, their customs, their ideas, it all made you think that these people were actually real life vikings, that you had actually somehow gone back in time. You were standing outside the same tent that made you run away in fear all those months ago, taking a deep breath, glancing nervously at Hvitserk who gave you a reassuring smile before walking away to join his brothers at the hunting cabin, prompting you to enter cautiously, as though the whole place was booby trapped. You couldn’t help but glare at the old man, the Seer, everyone called him, as he sat there, smirking as he heard you enter, or perhaps he knew you would enter long before even you did. “You’re back” he said in his raspy voice, knowing you had learnt their language by now, so he didn’t bother cutting your hand again, thankfully. “I’m just as surprised as you” you mumbled sarcastically, venom dripping from your every word but the man just cackled like last time, prompting you to roll your eyes “how do I get home?” you asked, not wanting to play any games, the man continued to cackle as though your question was the funniest thing he had heard in a long time “you are home, young healer” he cackled and you considered strangling him, but you took an oath to do no harm, so you took a deep breath and calmed yourself “I mean where I came from, I have a work there, an apartment, I have a life that I need to get back to” you tried to make him sympathise with you, a frown on your face as you watched his face fall, smile fade and laughter quiet until there was nothing but the wind outside.

“You think you are missed?” he asked and that caught you off guard, you bit your lower lip and gently shook your head, looking down sadly “I know I’m not… but I have responsibilities, I’m not meant to be here, some mistake has happened” you tried to reason with him but when you looked up he blew something in your face, making you cough as you shut your eyes tightly, coughing as you inhaled it and suddenly you felt your body hit the ground as you continued to cough, you couldn’t even get the words out to ask ‘what have you done to me?’ before you were out like a light, darkness enveloping around you, it felt odd, like you were floating.

You woke up with a gasp, laying on a sofa in the doctor’s lounge, your eyes scanning the room but it was empty, you heard people outside the room, walking by and chatting, a few pages going off here and there as you took your time to ground yourself, your feet carefully hitting the ground as you slowly stood up, cautious of your surroundings as you opened the door and walked out, almost bumping into someone but you moved at the last second. It was like the person didn’t see you, and when you turned to face another, snapping your fingers in front of her, you realised that they actually didn’t see you, a dark feeling settling in your stomach. You frowned and walked the hallways of the hospital, coming upon the same man you had treated, your last patient before you turned up wherever you were now, he was arguing with someone inside and when you walked in you saw none other than Clive, the same co-worker who was all too eager to claim all the credit for your work. You glared at him before listening in on their argument.

You sighed as you realised what Clive was telling Peter, the man who was your patient the day you vanished. He was spouting all this bullshit about how insurance wouldn’t cover his recovery, even though he was brought in on an emergency and you had checked his insurance yourself before he even went into surgery. You wanted to scream at Clive, you wanted to yell at him for being so rude, for lying to a patient and for being so heartless, you wanted to have his medical license taken away and you wanted him to act like the grown man he was supposed to be. But you couldn’t do anything but watch as Clive heartlessly talked to Peter, who couldn’t do anything but take it. You leaned against the wall and felt tears form in your eyes at the frustration you felt, maybe you were dead… maybe you were dead and in some twisted sense of irony you got back home but as a ghost or something, a spirit maybe. Whatever it was, you wanted out of here, you actually began to miss Kattegat, here you felt alone and lonely, you were surrounded by people, none of them saw you, heard you, even felt your presence as you walked through the hospital. You got to the top of the hospital, sitting down on the edge of the roof, eyes straight ahead as you didn’t dare look down, your back slumped as you considered if this was a terrible nightmare or real, either way, you couldn’t die, right? Forcing yourself to look down you saw the streets below, people going on about their day as if you had never even existed to begin with. Suddenly you felt someone beside you, turning your head and seeing the Seer, facing the tall building ahead of the two of you.

“Is it like this, now? No one cares?” you asked quietly and upon receiving no response you felt yourself tear up, all you ever wanted was to make a difference in the world. “You still can” the Seer rasped, making you sigh heavily “how? I-... You won’t even tell me who I’m supposedly here for” you pointed out and he once again chuckled, the sound like a cackling, as always “you will know, when the time is right, daughter of Frigga” he rasped and you rolled your eyes “you’re way too mysterious, you know that? And this ‘Frigga’ is not my mom-uh… mother, I mean…” you added, the Seer once again just cackling “for a woman who knows so much, you see so little. You will know all in due time, young healer, and in due time you will see all” he said and you rolled your eyes again “not helping” you mumbled and once again he cackled, the laughter echoing in your skull, not letting you escape it for a single second.

You woke up, panting and sweating heavily, your cheeks stained with tears that hadn’t stop running, you felt as though your lungs had no room to expand, you were panting and sobbing all together, looking around and seeing it was dark outside, a frown forming on your face, you knew it was at least noon when you went to go see the Seer. You threw off your fur blanket and walked out of your room, still panting for air until you stumbled into the great hall. You didn’t even notice Ivar there, watching the flames until you fell to the ground, clutching at your chest. Ivar crawled to you with a concerned frown “what is wrong?” he asked but you just shook your head, still feeling as if you had no room for air in your lungs yet you so desperately craved it, needed it. You curled up, despite your logical brain telling you that made it worse, but you were panicking, and luckily Ivar picked up on it, brows up in realisation and suddenly you felt one of his hands on your back and the other on your collarbone, forcing you to unfold and straighten your back, air finally being able to fill your lungs. You were still crying when you slumped against Ivar, not thinking straight as you buried your face in his chest. You expected him to push you away, at least not respond to your actions, but what you didn’t expect were hesitant arms wrapped around you, one of his hands gently stroking your hair in a soothing manner as you calmed down.

You stayed like that the whole night, telling Ivar the whole story, expecting him to tell you it was stupid, that you were foolish for believing the Seer or something like that, but you were met with silence, patient silence as he listened to your every word. “I’m scared, Ivar… I think I’m really scared of being alone, of never achieving anything, being forgotten, left behind and unable to help anyone or myself” you whispered and felt him tense at your words, you almost broke away from him when he once again eased into your touch “you are not alone. You have everyone here in Kattegat, you have Helga, I even think Floki likes you, you even have… me… so not to worry, many will remember you” Ivar soothed, letting you see a totally different side of him. Sure, in the months you had been here Ivar had been the one to teach you about their gods, while Ubbe and Hvitserk explained the language and helped you understand it. It had been four months since you arrived and you had grown closer to the youngest of the siblings. You enjoyed his sarcasme and sharp tongue, his wit and his determination, but most importantly, you enjoyed small moments, like this, where you saw what you considered to be the real Ivar.

Before long Ivar began to talk about meeting his father again, which you had apparently missed while passed out from whatever the Seer made you inhale, something Ivar told you he was very upset about, but you could see that he wasn’t. Apparently his father had disappeared years ago, only now popping up and asking people to sail with him, and Ivar had apparently said yes, to go to England with him. You couldn’t help but chuckle “bring back some of their tea, alright?” you joked, Ivar looking at you confused but dismissed it, he, along with everyone else you spent a lot of time with, had gotten used to your odd humour. The next day you watched Ivar proudly as he did his best to walk to the boat, almost helping him up when he fell until Aslaug stopped you and Ubbe, making you step back and watch as Ivar crawled to the boat and into it. You glared at Sigurd as he laughed at Ivar but brought your focus back to him once more, giving him a subtle wave as the boat began to set sail, he didn’t return it but you could see in his eyes that he wanted to.

[arhvste]

❝atsumu, kuroo, tsukishima and bokuto playing acnh ❞

miya atsumu

→ first he called the game dumb but he eventually gave in because everyone and their aunts were playing it and he didn’t wanna be left out

→ mf tries so hard for raymond at first

→ he insists it’s just because he can sell him for a lot

→ he really just wants raymond because he lowkey reminds him of osamu

→ anyways this fool doesn’t get raymond but ya know who he does get?

→ pedro

→ atsumu was ✨disgusted✨

→ “a clown?! a fukn clown?! yer jokin me!”

→ “aw don’t cry he fits in so well on your island 😹”

→ “sHUT YER TRAP 😠😠😠”

→ he hated pedro at first and for what?

→ eventually he starts vibing with him though

→ he decides that perhaps... pedro isn’t a bad guy after all

→ so atsumu develops a soft spot for him and begins to favour him over the rest of his mediocre villagers whose names he can’t be bothered to remember

→ ya know whose name he can remeber though?

→ BELLA 😡😠😡😠😡😡😠

→ the name that sparks rage in him

→ atsumu hits his villagers with his net shouting “nice cut g!” as a joke

→ with bella he’s not joking 😐

→ he hits her repeatedly and grins maliciously when she gets angry eventually

→ LOVES shoving her into pitfalls for absolutely no reason

→ cusses her out under his breath

→ writes hate mail to her only to get fustrated when she sends a nice reply about the flowers she saw the other day that reminded her of him

→ honestly bella girl it ain’t worth it, pack your bags and get outta there sis 😔

→ he wants her to get tf off his island because he doesn’t like her but he also kinda wants her to stay because he loves annoying her and making her angry

→ literally goes out of his way to buy the ugliest clothes for her to wear

→ he also has all his villagers address him as “big dick man”

→ pedro is special though 😳

→ pedro is the chosen one who gets to call him “tsumu”

→ JUST PEDRO 😤😾😡

→ literally thinks it’s the funniest thing when his villagers say “hey big dick man! the weather sure is great today isn’t it!”

→ you can hear his cackling from down the hall

→ thinks it’s the peak of comedy

→ oh and you’re not allowed to visit his island on a saturday

→ saturdays are “for the boys”

→ and by that he means he’s just going to buy a ton of matching clothes for him and pedro and talk to him all day until he eventually annoys pedro by accident to which he genuinely gets upset about

→ he doesn’t really bother with the fishing tourneys or bug offs

→ does catch a few though just to make sure he beats bella earns nook miles

→ pretty average island, not too much effort put into it yet

→ atsumu prefers channeling his energy and game time into bullying bella interacting with his villagers

kuroo tetsurō

→ bangs. it. tf. out.

→ literally acts like he doesn’t care about the game but has 395+ hours game time

→ uses the excuse it’s to play with kenma but kuroo actually got into it before kenma had the chance to look at it properly

→ fishing tourney KING

→ has multiple gold trophy’s and built a whole extension just to show them off

→ also treats all his villagers equally

→ he was a bit picky and only wanted cats and dogs on his island though

→ if you’re anything but a cat or a dog, i’m sorry but kuroo will timeskip you tf off of his island

→ has a soft spot for lucky but doesn’t admit it

→ he likes to come across as a “fair dictator of the island”

→ just admit luckys your fav and go oh my god

→ his house is really nice too

→ pretty much paid off all his debt and is financially responsible 😼

→ he will send you money over a few times a week because he claims he’s a good boyfie virtually and realistically

→ LOVES opening the letters from ‘mom’

→ it’s a small detail in the game but it brings kuroo comfort when he opens the letters and sometimes receives gifts from his virtual ‘mom’ 🥺

→ keeps all the letters from her because that’s what he would do if his real mom ever wrote to him

→ he’s a shameless timeskipper

→ “tetsu?? where tf did you get all this the games only been out a week??”

→ “👁👁 idk what you’re talking about baby”

→ the thing that annoys him the most are the fossils

→ HATES the stupid little marks in the ground that appear every day

→ also HATES talking to blathers

→ “spit it out already! i have places to be and villagers to see!”

→ completely ignores blathers’ real name and refers to him as ‘bokuto’

→ because he’s an owl duh

→ and bokuto also talks a lot

→ you thought it was a cute friendship thing at first but took it back when you heard him muttering under his breath

→ “oh my god just analyse the fossils already you himbo bird!”

→ “did you just call blathers a himbo? 😳”

→ “...no? 😳👀”

→ all in all, kuroo’s pretty good at the game

→ you like visiting his island because he has a ton of extra stuff he just gives you

→ “i never want to hear you call me a bad boyfriend again 😐”

→ “okay fine...but oNLY if you give me an ironwood dresser 😏”

tsukishima kei

→ another one who bangs it out

→ doesn’t really care when you point it out though

→ “you’re just jealous your islands a dumping ground compared to mine 🥱”

→ “k-kei 😔”

→ also sprints near where you’re fishing to scare the fish off and be spiteful 💀

→ little shit KNOWS you only need oranges to complete all the fruits on your island

→ he also knows you’re out of nook miles tickets

→ “aw that’s a shame, maybe if you were a bit better at the game you’d find them quicker but good luck! 😀”

→ oranges are his native fruit 😐😑😐

→ eventually he gives you them because you’re relentless and his patience runs thin after a while

→ good at the bug offs

→ pretty good at scorpion/tarantula hunting too

→ convinced spike is in love with him after the amount of scorpions and tarantulas he’s donated to him

→ his fossil exhibition in the museum is completed already

→ when blathers tells him the facts about the dinosaurs he just rolls his eyes

→ “i knew that already you stupid bird 🙄”

→ why’s everyone bullying blathers damn 😿

→ now, he likes henry

→ one of the few villagers he doesn’t bully

→ tsukki doesnt particularly care for majority of his villagers

→ henry has a special place in his heart though

→ maybe it’s because henry isn’t overly perky or he isn’t rude like the cranky villagers which tsukishima doesn’t like

→ henry is just??? so??? nice????

→ he can’t hate him

→ all his villagers have catchphrases that are dumb af

→ tsukki thought he was being clever when he made them but he just looks mean when other people talk to his villagers

→ “good morning i am useless! i love your outfit!”

→ henry gets to call him tsukki though

→ only because he figured out that henry reminds him of yamaguchi

→ that’s the only reason henry’s the exception to his bullying

→ i feel like tsukki has a pretty nice house too

→ he makes a lot of bells from selling scorpions and tarantulas and spare fossils he’s dug up

→ doesn’t really care about the size but has very detailed rooms

→ like all the furniture in his rooms follow a scheme

→ mf never opens his mailbox

→ doesn’t care for what the other “peasants have to say for themselves”

→ terraforming isn’t really his thing tbh

→ doesn’t like how slow the process and be and kinda likes the natural flat land

→ he likes laying down paths though

→ cusses villagers out when they get in the way though

→ full on shoves them and will keep shoving them until they get annoyed just because they’ve annoyed him

→ tsukki doesnt put as much time into the game as kuroo but his island is still pretty good and aesthetically pleasing

→ he just won’t help you make yours look like that 💀

bokuto koutarō

→ weeds. everywhere.

→ get so confused when he’s told he has to pick them all

→ “really? why can’t i just let them grow though i kinda like them 🤩”

→ mf ✨struggles✨ at the first stages

→ “y/n, you know i love you, please give me 30 iron nuggets 🥺💖💞💗”

→ ofc you give them to him because you’re well ahead in the game and don’t need them as much as he does

→ praises you like royalty but then he’s back to begging for materials from you 💀

→ doesn’t pay his debts

→ you’re gonna have to help him out here

→ doesn’t like the idea of having to constantly pay them off

→ like?? he doesn’t want a bigger house so why is this damn raccoon always bothering him to upgrade like leave him and his 2 room house alone 😠

→ has a the same camp bed and lamp from when he first moved out the tent 💀

→ insists he doesn’t need another one because the furniture all functions the same

→ he has a point tbf but his house just isn’t aesthetically pleasing

→ he also hoards stuff

→ common butterfly? yeah bokuto has 37 sitting in his storage

→ doesn’t like letting the bugs go because he “caught them fair and square”

→ you show him how to pay his debts back and then he dedicates a whole room to his stupid bugs 💀

→ loves blathers and celeste just because they’re owls

→ doesn’t care about what they’re wittering on about he loves interacting with them just because they’re the only owls in the game 😐

→ his favourite villager is kid cat

→ literally follows him around and sprints circles around him

→ l o v e s the chaos outside the town hall

→ 2 of his villagers are singing, 3 are running around and 1 is just watching like 🧍🏻‍♀️

→ HYPES his singing villagers tf up

→ “yeah get it bianca! turn it up!!! 🥳🥳”

→ has to match his villagers clothes at least once a week

→ also makes them all refer to him as “the best ace”

→ it boosts his ego a little more each time they say it

→ bokuto actually got raymond out of luck but had no idea who tf he was and just how popular he was

→ lets that mf go without advertising that raymond’s in boxes

→ atsumu screeches when he finds this out eventually

→ bokuto doesn’t care what his villagers look like everyone’s welcome

→ bella should move to bokuto’s island and move from atsumu’s because bokuto will accept her with open arms rather than a net to the head everytime he sees her 😿

→ ALWAYS remembers birthdays for his villagers

→ and always shows up to their birthday parties insisting he’s the life of the party and they’d be bored without him 😹

→ which is true to a certain degree cause the party only really starts when the player arrives

→ bokuto is actually okay at terraforming

→ quickly changes his mind after an hour of building and digging and restarts it all over again

→ he can make his island look pretty good

→ theres just weeds and buried fossils everywhere though 👁👁

→ also forgets his turnips go bad

→ literally the least financially responsible out of them all

→ it’s okay though because you help him and he eventually gets the hang of it

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei

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