#i make stupid memes at 1am

[lowlights]

Anyone else feel like this? I'm certainly not complaining.

We survived on crumbs for so long. Look at us now.

[arson-09]

I know i commented it but i had to make this a real image

Y’all really think Lucien “Go back to the shit-hole you crawled out of,” “balances three roles and still dresses immaculately,” “fire in his blood and fucks like it too” Vanserra is not going to be able to win over his mate? Riiiiiight…

[stoutguts]

I am such a firm believer, that if Soap and Ghost are an item/boyfriends/husbands,—then Gaz is Soap’s bsf, while Roach is Ghost’s bsf. While, Roach and Gaz would be together, (at least in my mind, I love GazRoach).

Soap and Gaz are incredibly chaotic together and get into all kinds of trouble. Motherfuckers cannot take ANYTHING seriously. Drinking and smoking together, (often getting wasted or as high as a kite, which often leads to more shenanigans). Doing drinking games or showing off smoking tricks to each other. Starting shit with random people just cause they can, Kyle joining Johnny at the demolitions site and in blowing random stuff up around base, pulling moronic or downright despicable pranks on everyone on base just for laughs, or messing around at the range, making their own crude targets to shoot or knife. Maybe even a bit of vandalism, arson, or other stupid stuff when the two are off-duty together,—but don’t tell Price that. They especially like to prank Roach and Ghost and get under their skins. Price often separates them on missions, because he’s afraid that they’re going to royally fuck things up somehow, if they’re together. Constantly sending each other memes they think the other would find funny. Or brainrotted, almost incoherent conversations over text at 3 in the morning. Sending each other dumbass voice messages or notes of them screaming, singing, or doing impressions/horrible attempts at voice acting. They also like to dunk on and make fun of the other members of the 1-4-1, or gossip about them to each other. They just love to talk shit. They both always need to know latest scoop or bout of drama on base. Both have ADHD, and are constantly in need some form of stimulation. So, when hanging out in person (and when they’re not getting up to nefarious activities)—They’re listening to music (hard rock and metal or alternative rock (like Korn, Slipknot, Muse, Radiohead, System of a Down, etc) often times, but they also both love pop (particularly Britney Spears, Kesha, Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, and Katy Perry),—while also watching YouTube, (random video essays they find interesting or entertaining, old YouTube poops, or Moist Cr1TiKaL/penguinz0/Charlie’s videos),—while also showing each other memes on their phones, while Soap also may or may not be drawing, while Gaz also may or may not be writing, while also buying random shit they think is funny off of Amazon.

Ghost and Roach are just the types to play cards together, or maybe watch a movie, or play a board game. (They particularly like watching horror/thriller movies or rom-coms. They like Candy Land, Monopoly, Battleship, Life, and Clue in terms of board games. While, they’re favorite card games are Slapjack, Poker, and Go Fish. They also like playing Chess, Checkers, The Oregon Trail, Exploding Kittens, or Cards Against Humanity from time to time). (Both are extremely competitive, and will often get into petty fights, whether it’s a case of one or the other being a sore loser, or one accusing the other of cheating). Maybe even going out to a local Tesco’s together for a snack run or some fast food drive thru at 1am, or they’ll have a day at the mall, mostly window shopping around random stores or getting something to eat at the food court. (Both are heavily food motivated). Something low-key or chill is really always their go-to. The occasional sleepover. They love to do each other’s nails or hair, or attempt random makeup looks they’ve found on Instagram or something for shits and giggles. They’re also gaming buddies. They’ll play stuff like Minecraft, GTA, Sea of Thieves, Left 4 Dead, Team Fortress 2, (some of Gary’s favorite games). Or they’ll play DND, Overwatch, or some first-person shooter game together (much to Simon’s delight). Roach will even just watch Ghost play rhythm games like Project Diva, Guitar Hero, or Geometry Dash—Or dark fantasy RPG games (Simon’s favorite genre of video games), like Dark Souls, Bloodborne, Skyrim, Elden Ring, or The Witcher. Lots of deep conversations, either over text or in person that’ll last for hours, (might end in one or the both of them crying, and hugging it out/comforting one another). They also often call each other just to check in, and just to hear each other’s voices when they’re apart or when they’re not together. Roach being like the only person Ghost feels comfortable opening up to, besides Johnny or Gary just being the person he’s closest to outside of it’s partner. To be fair, they bond by just being in each other’s presence/they just enjoy each other’s company. No words need to be spoken between them for them to have a good time.

It’s the best though when all 5 of them get together, (Soap, Ghost, Roach, Gaz, and Yuri), as it’s the perfect amount of chill and chaotic at the same time. Super Smash Bros, Mariokart, or Mario Party is always best with five players, after all.

Yuri being aroace, and his friends are all that he needs. He’s able to handle both the chaos and peace. Though Nikolai is his true best friend. The two going way back, and are brothers in arms through and through. Having met when Nik was still in the army. A good portion of it is that they’re bonded through shared trauma. They have a father and son sort of relationship (Nikolai being much older than Yuri), and care about each other deeply. In fact, they’d die for each other, they’re that close. They mostly keep in touch via text and phone calls (not by choice), but will meet up together at a bar or tavern every now and then.

Price and Laswell being best friends and also going way back, like before they even joined the army/CIA. Having met each other in high school. Price, Nik, Laswell, and her wife having dinner parties. Chatting about old times and catching up with one another every so often. They try to call to see how the others doing every now and then, though they much prefer seeing each other in person. Sometimes they’ll even go mini-golfing or bowling together as a double date kind of thing.

Also, Yuri is such a slept-on character. People forget about him/that he exists, and I wish he was appreciated more. :(

[thenevarranaccord]

Hogwarts Legacy Classmates’ Toxic Roommate traits:

Slytherin boys:

Sebastian: Casts lumos late at night so he can read at 3am.

Ominis: Talks in his sleep. Sometimes hisses in his sleep, especially if he’s having a nightmare.

-

Slytherin girls:

Imelda: Up at 5am doing burpies. Tries to be quiet but she’s not. Somehow, you’re the one that feels judged.

Nerida: Still falls for it every time someone says you can see mermaids from the window.

Grace: “Do you know who I am?!” “MY family does it this way…” “My FATHER says that…”

-

Gryffindor boys:

Garreth: “Here, try this!” “What is it?” “Just try it. Trust me.”

Leander: Sulks as loudly and dramatically as possible, and when you ask him what’s wrong, he responds, “NOTHING!”

-

Gryffindor girls:

Natsai: You do that umbrella academy meme at each other as you both sneak out at night, separately, to explore.

Cressida: It’s 1am on a Tuesday and she’s yelling at her books.

-

Ravenclaw boys:

Amit: Definitely the guy who will not stop talking while everyone—supposedly including him—is trying to fall asleep.

Everett: You open a drawer under your bed and fake snakes pop out. He once put a dung bomb under Duncan’s bed. The dorm room is never safe.

Duncan: Tells a lot of stupid and obvious lies.

-

Ravenclaw girls:

Samantha: Her bloodline is literally cursed. You never know how that’s going to affect everyone.

-

Hufflepuffs boys:

Arthur: Has a personal relationship with everyone else’s pets, but cannot have his own pet. It makes you sad for him.

-

Hufflepuffs girls:

Poppy: She’s always sneaking in forbidden animals.

Sacarissa: You get a lot of unasked for beauty advice.

Lenora: Overly agreeable and shy except like once a year when she blows up and starts pulling receipts from clear back to September.

Adelaide: She’s the Mom Friend and she worried about you a lot.

[jaxxsoxxn]

>> ELIMF SAYS HORN IT UP [gn!reader x elimf x odxny]

elimf uses he/him pronouns (bc im pretty sure he's referred to himself as a guy? but that's about all the reasoning), uses they/them for everyone else.

Probably ooc, im still figuring everyone out ;;

smth silly <3 I take requests if this barely existing fandom is alive

lowkey horny elimf for the duo, even if he doesn't realize it for the most part.

tw. drinking; irresponsible drinking especially; kind of dissociation but depends on how u look at it; elimf is technically having a bad fcking day even if it's not stated clearly.

im writing it at, like, 1am n i might not notice most of the uhhh writing errors.

___

El didn't smoke that much lately, but he was sipping lazily a beer while using only one hand to write back in the chatroom. He wasn't sure which beer was it, but he was pretty buzzed at this point.

"Elimf" looked at the words passing his screen with a small smirk. Thrim, bless them, gave them a year of peace. As they learned more and more, they finally decided to try to find them and ask them to join something a bit more like a social groupchat, still hidden from curious eyes if or when they wanted to brag about their possible hacks.

If you'd ask him before thrim, if he'd chat with incri or even wnpep out of his own will for simple fun after they're done, he'd laugh. Now here he was, sending a meme of a staring hamster after pep made the mistake of saying something vaguely sexual.

All he gets is the staring emoji.

He sits back in his chair, a low sound leaving it with the move, almost like a whine. After a few slow blinks and a deep sigh, he finally looks back at the screen.

thrim: lmao stare off, you got this elimf

He should go to sleep.

He should leave the chatting for later today, the clock on his laptop showing 2 AM.

Instead, he slides into thrim's dms, one simple message being sent before he closes his eyes and takes another sip.

He wishes he'd have something heavier to drink.

elimf: wanna have a drink with me?

thrim is writing...

It only takes one more sip for the bottle to be empty and, thus, useless. He hovers with his mouse on the text, asking himself if he'll delete the message, will thrim have enough brain in their head to not mention it. He's too late in the end.

thrim: I'd be down, as long as you're aware that od will be there somewhere in the back thrim: I mean, they'll probably hear us thrim: Just wanted you to know thrim: and also had to ask them if they're okay with it beforehand, so that's why it took a while for me to respond thrim: in case you were wondering

Talk about not carrying about double- or, well, quintuple texting. If that's a thing. If not, trust thrim to be the one to come up with it.

He calls without answering the texts, his finger slipping once while trying to do so. Maybe he's drunker than he thought he was. He doesn't disconnect.

"Hi there, elimf!"

The way their voice goes softer, slower around his "name" makes him chuckle. They were obviously trying their best at sounding it out. The idea of them trying it out beforehand made him a little heated.

"Just L's fine." he states, noting a green smudge in their background. "How's ya, thrim?"

He wants to stay silent and just watch them as time passes, he wants to reach for them and pull- their hair, their skin, the hoodie that's obviously not theirs, anything.

He tries to take another sip and grimaces when the empty bottle lightly hits his teeth, too light without any liquid. Furthermore, he lets it fall, ignoring the breaking glass as he reaches for another. Thrim doesn't seem to be good at following in his footsteps.

"You're alright?" they have a slight accent, something so soft that it's barely there. "Did the bottle break?"

There's music in his headphones. He doesn't remember when it was turned on, he cannot remember if it was playing before he called.

"Ya didn't answer me." he says it almost childishly, a stupid grin on his face. The green smudge in the back becomes more visible, the person stopping in their tracks.

"I'm alright, would be better if I'd know if you're good too."

He's staring, probably. He lets himself look down at the new bottle in his hand, before popping the top off with his teeth. As he does so, thrim holds a shot glass, already filled. The green wearing person has a fox mask on that looks like their emojis. They also have a shot glass in one hand and their other hand is patting thrim's shoulder.

He knows it's Od, he knows it so well it hurts, but all he can do is think about how much he wished it wouldn't be odxny themselves. How much easier would being jealous be if he wouldn't know them.

How much easier knowing who he was jealous of would be, too.

"Ya'r drinkin' with us, oddy? What a blessin'" his accent is getting the best of him, he should try to fight it a bit more.

He gets a delicate chuckle back, the mask lowering itself with their face, as Od shakes their head lightly at that. He wants to tear it off, he wants it to be an actual part of him.

He feels unreal, his mind is getting sharp even if his vision seems to be worse - there's an ache in his chest, almost like he's smoked too much-

"L? We're drinking or what?"

With the other voice joining in, he finally remembers to breath. He really shouldn't drink another.

"Of course, unless ya'r already chickenin' out." he slightly grimaces at those words, a pained laugh leaving his throat. "That was a bit too incy for me."

Wnpep would've tried to scold him, Incri would've thrown a fit - but the two just laugh with him, odxny lighter than thrim, but still easy to be heard.

As they raise their glasses, the masked one whispers something to thrim before downing their own. Thrim, stars above, Thrim puts their mouth around the rim of the glass and raise their head, letting their whole neck show and their Adam's apple show off its movement. Two swallows is all it takes, before they whip their head back and lay the glass back down.

He wants to scream, the bottle stopped halfway to his mouth, his other hand's nails biting into the skin on his left thigh.

Thrim outright laughs, their eyes squinted and their hair becoming even messier. Od rests their head in the place where the shoulder and the neck connect, an obvious smirk on their lips as they shake lightly with their own laughter.

He's bright red - he realizes, while blinking owlishly.

"You did this on purpose."

Thrim smirks at him, leaning back lightly. A tiny change, yet still a change. Whatever was the trap they laid down, he walked right into it.

"What can we say, we wanted to know if you'll like what you'll see half as much as we do."

He takes the sip he was meaning to before, his eyes following Od's hand, which was playing with Thrim's hair.

As another chuckle left them, thrim sent him a wink. He couldn't handle it.

He let himself disconnect, a smile on his lips as he stood away from the desk, moving the glass slowly with his bare foot to the side, so he wouldn't step on the bigger parts. A shower and a power nap sounds like a dream duo to him right now and those feelings? Those real feelings that he felt at the duo teasing? Well, those are for the rare sober elimf, thank the stars.

[liloinkoink]

tis I again! this is about the jokes that stood out to me in lamplight, I just lightly combed through and picked out the two that stood out to me the most.

"you had a god living in your city and you made him fix your roof?"

"I didn't make him. I was seven"

"why did you say 'was'"

"well, BigB's now thir-"

and

"'O divine being of holy light please help me cook my pork chops right' or no maybe 'guide me to grill without mistake, so the perfect potato I might bake'"

the whole scene of Martyn talking with Ren about cooking was way funnier than it should have been because my brain conjured up this stupid image

i’m so thrilled to hear the stupid cooking rhyme went over well because i was losing my last marble working on that at 1am. went back and found a convo i had abt that rhyme bad in november bc i was dying

every day i wake up and for what? to suffer? why does Martyn ITLW speak in RHYME

also. fuckinf LOVE that meme i’m saving that for sure

[apoptoses]

Fic meme: 1 & 12: Blood Sanation

(for the specific fic writer asks)

What was my inspiration for this fic? How did it come to me?

Oh wow, so a couple things happened to make this happen:

First of all, I don't think anything is worth spending more than 5k of words on unless there's a big risk involved. Trying to expand the scenes in DM that happened in montages felt like a risk, sending Daniel and Armand to a club in Pale Shelter felt like a risk. Writing the medical kink fic was a HUGE risk.

So I asked myself- what's the most unnatural place I could possibly put Daniel and Armand in to make them reconcile after PL?

And immediately I thought of the middle of nowhere, in a car, on a road trip. Like think about it, they rarely stray from big cities, they always take private jets. A rental car in the middle of the Smokey Mountains at 1am? That's the most random ass place these two could go, and it would take some real effort to make it believable that they decided to go there.

And then I remember me and you had the conversation about hotel rooms, and I was showing you the tacky ass honeymooner suites that Best Western has hidden in a few locations. And I knew I wanted to put the two of them there too, because it's stupid and tacky and a weird place for them to be. And then I thought about greasy truck stop diners near these shitty hotels and- it all clicked.

So the whole fic was born really out of a desire for the surreal, for putting them in places they don't belong and making it work.

12. Did any thing about this fic’s reception surprise me?

I'm surprised people liked it? haha It's story full of difficult topics and trying to collapse decades of emotional damage into five nights of conversations, and have people believe that these two can come out of that in a better relationship and with a hopeful future.

I never really expect anyone to love the stuff I write so having people find it meaningful and cathartic surprises me a lot.

[toy-pigeon]

You can use the image!!

Just credit it (I'm so stupid I should've written that, but I published it at 1am, so yea)

ofc!!! i always credit any artists i make memes from. thanks for letting me know :-)

[notquitedivine]

Babe...somethings wrong look...

[missingn000]

[sams-fourth-runner-five]

Surrounded by Dedlocks, help arrived in a rather unwelcome form

this mission was wild and I was here for all of it

[m0srael]

Drunk Texts

For the @drarrymicrofic prompt: Love Letter

One balmy night in June, Harry’s lying in bed wide awake--unable to sleep again--when his mobile lights up on the nightstand. The only people who ever contact him on his mobile are Teddy (“All the cool wizards have them these days, Harry, please get one so I can send you memes!”) and Hermione, and neither of them would be texting this late.

Friday, June 6 2008, 1:27 AM

+445195555555: I’ve been hopelessly in love with you since we were sixteen, won’t shut my bloody mouth about you actually, can I take you on a date? I’m still very rich, all things considered, and know all the best restaurants in Wizarding Britain.

+445195555555: Maybe just a shag, then?

Harry: bloody hell, who is this??

Harry: This number is unlisted, I don’t know how you got it but I’m blocking it now. Kindly, fuck off.

+445195555555: WAIT

+445195555555: What do you mean, who is this? I thought muggle mobiles know who you’re talking to already.

Harry: Not if a strange person is texting in the middle of the bloody night from a number I’ve never seen before!

+445195555555: If you don’t want to date me or shag me just say so, Potter. No need to play hard to get and toss around insults

+445195555555: Unless that’s a thing for you, cheeky ;) ;)

Harry: Last chance, tell me who this is or I’m blocking your number.

+445195555555: Draco

+445195555555: Obviously ;)

Harry: Draco...Malfoy?

Harry: You expect me to believe Draco Malfoy is confessing his love and hitting me up for a shag at 1am. On a *muggle* mobile.

+445195555555: Believe it scarhead, now answer the question do you or do you not want to shag me

Harry: Look, you’ve obviously read one too many Prophet articles…

Harry: Somehow found my number...did you confund someone I know??

Harry: And thought that...pretending to be Draco Malfoy, of all people, would entice me to meet up with a total stranger?

+445195555555: Ooh, the logic of it all, Potter ;)

Harry: Stop doing that

+445195555555: what ;) ;)

Harry: The emojis. Malfoy would never use emojis.

+445195555555: You don’t know what I would or wouldn’t do anymore Potter. Would you like to learn? ;)

Harry: Fuck

Harry: Even if I believed you, I’ve never given Draco Malfoy my number. My *muggle* mobile number.

Harry: I’ve never given him my number because Draco Malfoy would never use a *muggle* mobile.

Harry:...among other reasons

+445195555555: Always so preoccupied with blood purity, Potter, haven’t you learned anything?

+445195555555: And there you go again, assuming that you know what I would and would not do

+445195555555: It really would be much more efficient if you just let me demonstrate

Harry: oh my god

Harry: I can’t believe I’m still messaging you

Harry: ffs, you have one chance to convince me that you’re really Malfoy otherwise I’m blocking you immediately

+445195555555: You are a tetchy one, hm?

+445195555555: Fine. You cornered me in a bathroom in 6th bc you were *obsessed* with me and tried to murder me using sectumsempra (which you claimed not to know the effect of, pft) but only because I tried to Crucio you and I would have died if Snape hadn’t found us and cleaned up your mess (again)

+445195555555: They definitely didn’t print THAT in the Prophet. Unfortunately.

Harry: Bloody hell um...okay…

Harry: Look, about that, Malfoy…

Harry: Wait, unfortunately…??

+445195555555: So you see, Potter, it is in fact I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, confessing my love and “hitting you up for a shag at 1am” as you so elegantly put it.

+445195555555: ;)

Harry: Okay. Malfoy, then. Jesus.

Harry: How exactly did you get my number?

Harry: For that matter, when did you get a mobile?

Draco Sodding Malfoy: I got it from Pansy, who got it from Ginny, you recalcitrant twat

Draco Sodding Malfoy: See, I can do the sexy insults thing, too :*

Draco Sodding Malfoy: And if you must know, Potter, I purchased a mobile years ago to stay in contact with my cousin, Teddy. Teddy Lupin. I think you’re acquainted? The little brat refuses to owl, apparently it’s “sooo medieval”.

Harry: Oh. That...actually makes sense. He said the same thing to me.

Harry: Hang on, Teddy isn’t a brat. I thought you two got on rather well…?

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Whatever, the point is I’m mad for you and I never told you because, well, there was the whole war thing and then the whole trial thing, and since then I’ve become a bit of a self-righteous coward. Also, I fancy myself something of a martyr. I think the constant pouting makes my mouth look more kissable, don’t you?

Draco Sodding Malfoy: We could do the dinner thing if we must, or you can just come round mine I can meet you there right now

Harry: Oh. You’re drunk.

Harry: Never pegged you as the type to get sloshed and text your ex-childhood-nemesis for a hookup

Draco Sodding Malfoy: not with that attitude you haven’t

Harry: Hah

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Not drnk

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Honestly, Potter

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Harry

Harry: weird

Draco Sodding Malfoy: I’ve seen the way you watch me when you think I’m not looking. You look at me like some lovesick teenager. Why deny what *literally everyone* can plainly see?

Harry: I do not look at you like a...lovesick teenager, Malfoy.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Draco ;)

Harry: I do not watch you, DRACO.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: I only notice because I’m watching you too, Harry. All the time. I’ve been watching you for as long as I can remember.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: You’ve practically been the center of my universe since I was eleven years old, for Merlin’s sake. I think about you all the time. I miss you all the time, even when we’re in the same room.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: I mean I LITERALLY do not shut up about you I wasn’t exaggerating about that. It drives Pansy and Blaise, who have the patience and constitutions of actual saints and who are very, very good friends, absolutely mental and they’d like nothing more than to hex my mouth shut permanently.

Harry: um

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Admit it.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: You’ve wondered what it’d be like.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Imagined it.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Us

Harry: Malfoy…

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Draco

Harry: Draco…

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Yes, Harry? ;)

Harry: I...could do dinner.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: You could “do” dinner? That’s all, after everything I’ve just said, you can “do” dinner??

Harry: For the love of Merlin

Harry: Fine. You’re right, Draco. I...have wondered

Harry: About us, I mean

Harry: Ahh and actually Draco sometimes when I look at you I just want…

Friday, June 6 2008, 2:15 AM

Draco Sodding Malfoy: what

Draco Sodding Malfoy: you want what

Friday, June 6 2008, 2:48 AM

Draco Sodding Malfoy: harry

Friday, June 6 2008, 3:09 AM

Draco Sodding Malfoy: harry, bloody hell

Saturday, June 7 2008, 6:45 AM

Harry: Draco, I’m so sorry

Saturday, June 7 2008, 8:18 AM

Harry: My mobile died and I didn’t have my charger

Saturday, June 7 2008, 9:23 AM

Harry: Draco

Saturday, June 7 2008, 11:47 AM

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Potter, why on earth are you contacting me so early on a Saturday?

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Scratch that, why are you contacting me at all? Where did you get my number?

Harry: Oh, so you were drunk

Draco Sodding Malfoy: How is my present or past level of intoxication any of your concern?

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Oh.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: No.

Harry: Draco, what’s wrong? What happened?

Harry: Draco…?

Harry: I’m sorry, if I said something…

Harry: Look, YOU’RE the one drunk messaging ME at all hours of the night looking for a shag!

Saturday, June 7 2008, 7:08 PM

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Dear Harry,

Draco Sodding Malfoy: I hereby formally apologize for my previous messages. They are inappropriate and entirely out of line, do forgive me. Although it appears that Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson absconded with my mobile yesterday evening to, “have a bit of fun”, I take full responsibility for what has transpired. Do not report me, or something. I do hope you were not too offended. I will henceforth refrain from contacting you by this, or any other, means. I assure you that my traitorous, juvenile, back-stabbing, inconsiderate, so-called friends have been soundly reprimanded. You may expect their formal apologies via owl, posthaste.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Apologetically, Draco L. Malfoy

Harry: Wow, uh, ok. I’ve never gotten a formal apology over text before. Did it take you...8 hours to write that?

Harry: And for the record, I knew something was up. We may not be best mates or anything but I know you wouldn’t use emojis like that.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Oh, bugger off, Potter you had no idea it wasn’t me. You were ready to spill your innermost desires to a stranger on your mobile! Stupid Gryffindor.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: Ah.

Draco Sodding Malfoy: I mean, goodbye! So sorry, again, for the inconvenience! We will never speak again from this moment on!

Harry: Draco, wait

Draco ;): Merlin, what, Potter?

Harry: Harry

Draco ;): No.

Harry: Fine. Look, if you accept full responsibility, does that mean your offer still stands?

Draco ;): What offer?

Draco ;): No. It doesn’t, whatever it is.

Harry: Your offer to take me on a date.

Harry: ;)

Draco ;): Bloody...Potter, that wasn’t MY offer!

Harry: Perhaps not, but I’ve seen the way you watch me when you think I’m not looking...Draco.

Draco ;): Who is this? I’m blocking this number. I’m going to ask Pansy how to block a number.

Harry: Draco, I’m serious.

Saturday, June 7 2008, 9:14 PM

Harry: Draco, I can tell that you didn’t block my number.

Saturday, June 7 2008, 11:47 PM

Harry: Fine.

Harry: Draco, could I take you out for dinner some time? I know someone who knows all the best restaurants in Wizarding Britain.

Draco ;): …..

Harry: ?

Draco ;): If you must

Harry: If I must?

Draco ;): It's true that I'm still rich, all things considered, but you’re paying

Draco ;): ;)

[redvanillabee]

Ship Ask Meme: Peggysous Edition

I got a secret ask(?) from someone who should be on hiatus right now asking me to do this ask meme for Peggysous. So here we go!

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa

Hurricane Peggy stops for nothing and no one, let alone a measly little push/pull sign!

When Peggy is on a roll, she misses the push/pull signs. If anything, Peggy is very good at reading the design cues on a door. So when a door with no clearly visible pull bar has to be pulled? That’s on the door and the door designer, not her.

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them

If anyone finds a bunch of old notes with <3 P+D distractedly drawn all over the back, they must be sorely mistaken.

Peggy is a doodler; it helps her focus, and sometimes they are secret little notes to herself. Once she settles into the relationship and when she gets lost in her thoughts, she would doodle, and her subconscious just takes charge and draws little hearts. Once she comes around though, she blushes furiously. Part of her wants to berate herself for behaving like a teenage girl, but really she likes it. That there’s someone who can make her feel all silly and giddy and in love like that again, after everything.

Who starts the tickle fights

Daniel. Both of them are repeat offenders with bringing work home, but Peggy in particular can’t shut off work stuff even by bedtime. To cheer her up and/or get her mind off work, Daniel tickles her. Here’s the thing: Peggy is very ticklish. The one weakness of the invincible and invulnerable Margaret Carter, future director of SHIELD, is that she cannot stand being tickled at all. A good tickle fight sends her laughing and squealing, and Peggy...

Who starts the pillow fights

...and Peggy will not hesitate to retaliate by turning it into a pillow fight. She loves the tickles; there aren’t that many people she allows to see her like that, and she enjoys the casual intimacy. And it’s just fun. But she also likes to win. So once Daniel gets a few innings, she will whack a pillow into his face.

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile

Daniel. It’s not that he is necessarily a night owl, he just really cherishes being one of the few—if not the only person—around whom Peggy lets her guard down. So to see that razor sharp mind relax for the night as she drifts off to sleep, the way her face relaxes, looking way younger and more open than the world would ever see...it’s something he will never take for granted.

(Peggy loves the way Daniel looks asleep too, but once she hits the hay at night, she falls asleep way too quickly. So instead it’s the mornings for her. The way he looks mussed up from sleep in the early morning glow, soft and pliant with tousled curls sticking up every which way...that is when she is glad she opened her heart up to love again after the war.)

Who mistakes salt for sugar

Neither. Their home is pretty well organised, so it’s not common for them to make that mistake. And as Daniel will insist to anyone who doesn’t believe them, salt and sugar look different.

(There are, however, a few hilarious incidents when a particularly groggy, sleep-deprived, and under-caffeinated Daniel unloaded spoonfuls of salt into his coffee. But no one needs to know about that.)

And if Peggy has claimed multiple times in NY SSR that she mistook something else for sugar...well, if they think she’s too stupid to identify sugar, they can make their coffees themselves.

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning

Both are repeat offenders. They have had enough late nights that a snack at 1am is just a given, and is always welcome. Frankly, the loud beep is a good wake-up call.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines

Daniel. Peggy thinks they’re awful, but when it comes from someone she loves who just wants to make her smile, it’s hard not to crack up. And Daniel does love messing with her.

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order

Neither. They will grumble about ‘doing it this weekend’ when they need to find a particular book but couldn’t, but really, it just makes more sense to arrange them by their own patterns than plain alphabetical (theme then preference for Peggy, old vs new then theme for Daniel).

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies

Peggy is not patient enough to wait for brownies to be done before tasting them. And—as she frantically explains with a blush when Daniel catches her licking the spoon—she’s just cleaning the spoon!

(Daniel likes the taste of brownie batter, but thinks the texture is a bit meh. And if Peggy wants the spoon, well, he’ll gladly hand it over.)

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion

They both do.

Life’s too short to not sprinkle a bit of magic into everyday life. At the start of their relationship, they tried to mark all those special days. Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays…but too often those have to be rescheduled thanks to a combination of work, injuries, and extremely rude villains who have no consideration of other people’s plans. And really, when you can never tell what might come up tomorrow, the best option is to seize the day and make every moment special.

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen

Peggy. I really see her as a doodler. It began with her tracing little patterns on Daniel’s arm with her fingers. But sometimes, say, on a carefree Sunday morning when they’re just relaxing in the living room, Daniel with a book (or a ridiculous tabloid magazine—see the last question), Peggy armed with a pen from doing crosswords, she starts doodling.

(Fun fact: apparently it is real that one of SOE’s tests for their potential recruits is whether they can solve crossword puzzles. The rationale behind is testing whether a potential spy/code breaker can guess at the crossword author’s intended message, as one would when piecing together a potentially jumbled, broken, or misspelt piece of intercepted communication.)

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation

(I reckoned that these two predate souvenir magnets, so I had to go look it up. Apparently while magnets have been around for millennia, souvenir fridge magnets weren’t really popularised until the 1960s, which makes sense considering fridges as we know them didn’t become commonplace until post-war. So souvenir fridge magnets definitely predate the canon timeframe of these two. But headcanoning these two’s travels by the time of the 60s…)

Daniel. While I doubt their work leaves them much time for vacationing, they do travel for work. And when it takes him some place special, he likes to remember the trip with a fridge magnet. Peggy likes looking at them, but she wouldn’t really pay for one herself unless it’s very, very special—either because of the destination or the design. Anything other than that, she argues, is just tourist trap.

(Besides, it’s not common for Peggy to have to travel for work. When she has to be on the move, tourist souvenirs are usually pretty down low on her agenda.)

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines

Daniel, duh. I refuse to believe that someone who waves a magazine at Peggy to tell her that Whitney Frost is Agnes Cully doesn’t also read them on the regular. They are filled with made up gossips, yes, but sometimes the darnedest clues are buried in the ridiculous Hollywood speak. And while Peggy thinks they are an awful and ridiculous waste of time, Daniel definitely thinks they’re funny because they’re such an awful and ridiculous waste of time. So when Peggy’s biting her pen trying to figure out what 7-letter word should go into 3-down, he will nudge her to answer. ‘Peg, Peg you have to pick one. You—no it’s not a waste of time, this is crucial to the longevity of our marriage! Which is your favourite room in the house, the bedroom, the kitchen, or the living room? Come on-’

And much as she tries, she can’t help but crack up at those sincere puppy eyes. ‘Bedroom. And I can show you exactly why it’s my favourite.’

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Chapter 7

⚠️WARNING: Mentions of previous characters' deaths, swearing, mention of unhealthy coping mechanism

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You gasp as you wake up, your eyes attempting to discern anything in the dark.

What the…

Not even two seconds ago you were playing volleyball back in the Aoba Johsai gymnasium. It was a silly two on three game, Oikawa and Mattsun vs you, Makki and -

Oh.

Oh.

Tears well up in your eyes, fast and hot. They flow down the side of your face, into your hair and the pillow. You do nothing to stop them, crushed by the sudden wave of sadness.

It was a dream. It was a freaking dream.

You’re alone in your apartment in the middle of the night. You’re a college student at Sendai Uni. You don’t play volleyball.

And Hajime is dead.

The sobs come out unconstrained, as you were too heartbroken to try to stop them. How could you, as it was the only way for you to let out the sorrow and anguish coursing through your blood right now.

C’mon Y/N, get yourself together. You will yourself to calm down, getting the sobs to subside. The tears don’t slow though, as you sit up to grab some tissues from your bedside table. You clean yourself up, sniffling and grabbing your phone.

It’s only just past 1am, and you can’t fathom the idea of falling back asleep. Not when there’s the chance of you falling back into that dream. Not when you can be fooled into thinking that you’re playing volleyball, still trying to receive Oikawa’s serves and laughing when Hajime yells at Makki to take this seriously -

Your eyes well up with fresh tears and you clutch a tissue to your mouth to muffle the cries that want to escape.

The only thing you’re sure about right now is that you don’t want to be alone. You can’t be alone, you just can’t.

You unlock your phone but staring at your screen you don’t know who you can call.

Ok, that’s not true. You have a lot of people you can call. Your parents, Oikawa, Mattsun, Makki, hell even your therapist gave you her cellphone to call if you need her. And you know that all of those people wouldn’t hesitate to listen to you and help you.

But do you want to call any of them?

This isn’t a life or death situation, and you don’t feel like you are a danger to yourself so it would be irresponsible to call your therapist. It’s the middle of the night and your parents still work so you don’t want to wake them up.

That leaves your friends, the people who honestly could still be awake and maybe even wanting to talk to someone. But Makki has Mattsun, and vice versa. Which would leave Oikawa, but honestly? He’s been more than unbearable lately, and you’ve been walking on eggshells around him, scared that anything you say will set him off.

So you’re here, laying in your bed with no one to call. And the one person that you desperately want to call is dead.

Sniffling again and wiping the fresh tears from your eyes you pull up your texts. Maybe you can send a funny meme to Makki and start a meme war - it’ll take your mind off your current predicament at least. But your eyes fall to the chat you have with Osamu, close to the top of your messages.

Huh, you didn’t really think of him.

Not that you wouldn’t want to talk to Osamu. He’s actually very funny, with his dry humor and easy banter. Your friendship, despite its more than unusual beginning, has blossomed into something you’ve come to cherish.

But you can’t bother him with this, no no. You guys can, and have, confide in each other about your struggles and your complicated feelings and emotions. But it’s mainly been small bits and pieces shared over coffee.

But it couldn’t hurt to text him, no?

You wouldn’t say anything about your dream. Maybe you can find a funny meme to send him, or ask a question about lunch tomorrow.

You methodically type out your message, finding a meme to almost perfectly capture your mood (but not too accurately.)

You send the text before talking yourself out of it. It wouldn’t surprise you if Osamu didn’t text you back - it’s late (or early, depending on your opinion) and he should be sleeping.

You sigh deeply, finding yourself back in square one. Square one plus a stuffy nose, aching head and absolutely broken heart. You close out of the messaging app and decide to find some show to binge while you wait for the sun to rise.

Your phone begins vibrating and you’re surprised to see what comes across your screen.

Osamu doesn’t text you back. He calls you.

You pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“I hope that photo isn’t a subtle request to have me come over and cook for ya.” The soft, calm voice coming through the phone makes your chest tighten. It brings a wave of relief because you’re not alone but drowns you in guilt at inconveniencing your friend.

You clear your throat and sniffle. “No, sorry.” Your voice cracks and you wince at how obvious it is that you were just crying.

Osamu picks up on your current state. “Hey, are ya alright?”

He sounds so concerned, the teasing lilt in his voice instantly dropped. Your eyes start to water again and you can’t stop the sob that escapes your lips in time.

“Hey, Y/N are ya okay? Where are you, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. Your voice sounds horrible, extremely hoarse and tight as you try not to let more sobs spill out. Gritting your teeth helps keep them at bay but it does nothing to stop the flow of tears. You sniffle, loud.

“Where are you? Are you in danger?”

“No, no. I’m at my apartment. I’m okay.” You take in a shaky breath, sniffling again and clearing your throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s okay,” Osamu replies. He doesn’t sound as frantic as he did before but you can detect the worry in his voice. “I was still up so it’s no bother. I don’t even know why I called honestly. I think I just wanted to see what ya were doin’ up.”

“It’s fine, you can call me whenever,” you reply earnestly. “I….just had a dream.”

A split second of hesitation is all you’re allowed to mentally scream at yourself for breaking the one condition you set when you decided to text Osamu. “A dream?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, and I’m sorry for bugging you because it’s not fair to you but I just have to tell someone or else I feel like I’m going to fucking suffocate. I know I should just call my friends but they don’t want to hear me go on and on and -”

“Hey, hey Y/N. Calm down and take a breath.” You listen to Osamu, taking a pause to breathe. Your head is now throbbing painfully and your throat feels wretched. “What was yer dream about?”

“I was playing volleyball with my friends and...Hajime.” You are silently screaming at yourself. You were not going to do this to Osamu, you were not going to burden your friend, who is already facing struggles of his own, with your problems.

But...he did ask what your dream was about.

“We were playing volleyball together,” you go on. “And it felt so real, like one minute I was in the middle of a play and the next I was waking up in my bed, searching for the ball. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was all a dream, and, and,” your breath hitches again and you feel more sobs bubbling out. Again you feel the grief take control of your body and you start crying.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay Y/N.” Osamu is trying to soothe you but it’s not doing much to calm you down. If anything the added reassurance was making you cry harder “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay. It’s so far from okay that you can’t even imagine how you would get to okay.

“I’m sorry,” you sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Ya don’t hafta apologize,” Osamu replies. “Just let it out, Y/N.”

Oh boy, do you let it out. You cry and cry, curled up in a ball in your bed, lamenting the loss of your best friend and trying not to drown even more in your sorrow.

But you’re not alone, really. There’s not another person in the apartment with you, but you have Osamu on the phone right now. He’s reaching out to you, reaching through the dark and trying to get to you.

You’re not alone.

You feel the sobs subsiding as your breathing returns to normal. Your entire head is throbbing, you have no chance of breathing out of your nose and your eyes are painfully dry.

“Are ya alright?”

“Yeah,” you rasp out. “I’m sorry again, for that.”

“Ya don’t ever have to apologize to me,” Osamu says immediately. His insistence brings a small smile to your face. “If ya ever need to talk about yer dreams or anything, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you,” you reply. Your voice is nasally but you try to get as much sincerity in it as possible.

“Of course, and ya can call whenever. I don’t sleep so there’s a good chance ya’ll catch me anytime.”

You pause in wiping your face with your tissues as you take in what Osamu is telling you. “You don’t…sleep?”

“Nah.” Osamu's nonchalant answer makes your cock your head in confusion. “I don’t think I can remember the last time I actually slept through an entire night.”

“So,” you pause, still not comprehending. “What do you…do?”

“I do my homework, I’ve got a job at the convenience store and I usually work the night shift. Sometimes I read or binge watch a new show.” He laughs. “Usually every three or four days I just pass out for 14 hours or so, and then repeat.”

“Osamu,” you chastise. “That’s not healthy.”

He laughs again but it’s not the light chuckle from before - it’s a hollow laugh with a hard edge. “Yeah, well it stops me from havin’ the kind of dreams yer havin’. The kind where I forget that my brother is dead.”

You’re taken aback from the harshness in Osamu’s voice. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound like that. It could be considered in the same category as his usual tone - dry, sarcastic and nearly apathetic. But his regular tone is part of his sense of humor and how you two converse. You’ve never felt unease from those conversations, but now you do.

“And ya know what's worse than those little dreams?” Osamu doesn’t wait for input. “The worst is when I’m not even asleep and my stupid brain will give me random reminders from when my brother was alive. Like ‘don’t forget to wake up early and shower before Atsumu uses all the hot water!’ Or,” Osamu takes in a harsh breath, the noise making your phone speaker crackle. “Or the reminder to grab another sports drink at the store for Atsumu because he’s a scrub but he’s my brother and I love him. Or to save the mushrooms from my dinner even though they’re gross but Atsumu will trade his broccoli for them.”

Osamu blasts on, speaking fervently. Someone listening in would think he’s mad at you, but you know his frustration isn’t directed at you.

“But then I remember that I live alone, and I don’t need two bottles of sports drink and my plate is full of fucking mushrooms for no god damn reason.”

“And then, after feeling like the world’s biggest idiot for forgetting that my own twin brother is dead, I remember how alone I am.” He lets out another laugh, but it’s not light nor is it bitter. It’s worse, full of self-deprecation and pain.

You wait with bated breath, waiting for any sign on life through the phone. But when Osamu speaks, a small, broken voice comes through the line and nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s like - finding a life raft in the middle of the ocean but when you get to it it’s just a bundle of seaweed - it gets me every time.”

You inhale quietly. You want to reassure him but you can’t find the right words to say.

You can’t, because you know exactly how it feels.

The cold hard truth is that Iwaizumi Hajime is dead. There is nothing in the world that can bring him back, and there is nothing you can do to change that fact. Some days you can accept this fact easier than others.

On the easy days you feel most like yourself carrying a small rock. The weight of Hajime’s death will be something you will always carry with you. But on those easy days you can slip the rock in your pocket or hold it in your hand and carry on through life.

On the hard days it takes way more effort to lug the boulder around. You don’t know if you should drag it, heft it over your shoulder, tie a rope around it and yank hard. Sometimes you’re left to your own devices, sometimes your therapist or your parents can tell you the best way to carry it. Even your friends have stepped in to help you carry it, despite their own rocks to hold.

But the absolute worst days are the ones where you lose the rock, but you haven’t realized it. Where are you going to find it? In your pocket? Your bag? Will you trip over it?

Or will it come crashing down on you like an asteroid hellbent on wiping you out?

And it’s not even the impact that’s the worst part! Sure, this asteroid comes down on you with enough force to kill you, but the shockwave is what really destroys you.

When you have those moments when you forget that your Hajime is dead, the realization of his nonexistence is the asteroid’s impact on you. The cruel realization that his nonexistence is permanent for the remainder of your life is the shockwave.

This cruel one-two punch is devastating. It knocks you down and out, merciless in it’s destruction.

For what it’s worth, Osamu’s solution to dodging that one-two punch is not terrible, although it will have major consequences for his body and mind that he will have to face someday. But you can’t blame him for doing something to avoid the heavy blow.

It does destroy. It does make you feel like you’re drowning. It does nearly kill you.

“Ah, I think she fell asleep.” You’ve been quiet for so long that Osamu thinks you’ve fallen asleep on the phone.

“No, I'm here.” You murmur. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Ah, a dangerous pastime.” Osamu jokes, but it doesn’t quite land. Could be from his full disclosure or from the strained laugh he gives at the end of the sentence.

“It is,” you agree. “But I was thinking about what you said.” He doesn’t respond, letting you continue. “And I just wanted to say...I get it.”

There’s silence on the other end. It’s so quiet that you fear for a second that Osamu has hung up the phone in anger, or maybe he’s drifted off to sleep. But then you hear another breathy exhale, a laugh from a person who is the furthest from laughing.

“Ya know Y/N? I think you’re the only person who does.”

You exhale and close your eyes. You find it hard to open them back up, pure exhaustion taking over your body.

“We’re still on for lunch tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” Osamu answers. “But ya gotta rest now if ya wanna wake up in time for it.”

A small smile crosses your face. “Sure. Promise me you’ll try to get some sleep too?”

A noncommittal hum is the answer you receive, not ideal but you don’t push him. You feel brittle and fragile, and you’re sure he’s the same.

“Osamu, thank you.” You want to convey how thankful you are, not only that he called you tonight but for coming into your life at a time where you needed a friendly face. You know your gratitude doesn’t come close to covering the vast expanse of your gratefulness but you hope you’ll have time to show him.

“No worries, get some sleep. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Good night Y/N.”

“Good night Osamu.” Your eyes slip close, and you let yourself fall into a dreamless sleep.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: 😔😔 y’all this story is making me Big Sad and I wrote it. 🥲 Thank you so much for reading!!! I should probably mention that the time stamps in the chat and on the tweets and such are accurate - the story is moving right along!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito

[alix-in-july]

Emma by Jane Austen

Disclaimer: I have a fever

I started writing this post because I keep trying to figure out Mr Elton's sorting but he's just so off-putting that I can't. Gloryhound Lion or Snake Primary, for sure, because he's ambitious and looking to marry rich. I'm leaning towards Lion but I could see Snake who only cares about himself. For his secondary, he's such a creepy weirdo that I honestly can't figure it out, possibly because it's a bit triggering. Snake maybe? Creepy Lion Snakes (not all of them, just the creepy ones!) really freak me out because of personal experiences. And he acts all suave until Emma turns him down and then just goes all blunt and drops the act, saying he doesn't care if Harriet lives or dies. (Also can you imagine the ick factor of having this creep be the celebrant at your wedding?!)

Frank Churchill is also a Snake secondary and not a very nice one, either, though he is actually charming. He could have found a way to keep the secret without constantly insulting Jane and her family. Everyone is mad at him. Clearly not a pro-Snake work. For him, I'd probably say double Snake. He's doing all this to be with Jane and feels kinda bad but not super guilty like Jane. He reminds me a lot of my Double Snake friend, actually.

Emma has been sorted as Double Lion and yeah.

Mr. Knightley is the freaking best, like one of my all time favorite characters. Everything he does is just #mood. He's been sorted as a Snake Badger and I definitely agree with Badger secondary. I'm not sure I agree with Snake Primary. I think he might be a Badger primary (focused on social hierarchy but giving everyone a chance and also very upset when people are hurt, even people he doesn't think highly of). In my experience with Snake primaries, they wouldn't get that angry at Their Person for making fun of someone who is just an acquaintance. He scolds Emma by reminding her of her position in society and Miss Bates' and how that makes what she did especially cruel.

John Knightley is also amazing and I love him. We don't see a lot of him but from what we do see, I think he's an internal primary and Lion secondary. He's very blunt and always speaking his mind and ranting. He is not interested in anyone else's opinion.

Mrs. Elton. I saw a meme calling her the human embodiment of a migraine and yes. Accurate. Badger secondary. Her entire thing is name-dropping and using her social network to get Jane a good position. I'm trying to think of her primary but her entire personally is just pretension. She thinks she's the most important person in the neighborhood and loves being the center of attention. I think Authoritarian Badger because she tries to just take over Jane's life because clearly she knows better and is very insistent to Emma on what to do about her father's health. "It's decided" ugh.

Anne Taylor is definitely a Badger secondary. She's a caregiver, she has all the gossip, she's concerned about not giving offense. I don't know that we have enough information to decide her primary. She seems very focused on just Emma and her husband, but the story is from Emma's (kinda self-centered) point of view.

Jane: Also Badger secondary. She's so hard-working. She's keeping a secret but isn't really lying the way Frank is, just staying quiet about it. I don't get the sense that she's using her accomplishments as tools. She doesn't push back against Mrs. Elton. Snake doesn't really feel right for her primary because she feels so bad about deceiving everyone for Frank. She's so reserved and secretive that it's hard to figure out her actual primary.

So many Badgers!

Edit: I wasn't going to do Harriet but it's 1am and I've lost control of my life. I think she's an immature Badger primary who has latched onto Emma as an authority figure. She can't even be mad at Mr Elton because he's "too good" for her (HA). For her secondary... There have already been so many Badger secondaries so I feel stupid but I feel like she's also a Badger secondary?! I'm not crazy right? Whenever she has to do something, she gets Emma to help her. She doesn't use tools, she doesn't charm or use masks, and I don't think she's a Lion because she goes to Emma for help with everything and never argues or seems to charge. Her whole plotline is basically her mirroring Emma. Okay there are officially Too Many Badgers.

[equestriagirl16]

Randomly specific Denki head-canons ⚡️⚡️

It’s 1am and I’m trying to exhaust myself so here’s some Denki content cause he’s been on my mind lately✌️

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

⚡️- yes he can skate, he just does it so infrequently no one rly believes him until he randomly busts out some sweet maneuvers on a piece of debris during a mission

⚡️- full on listens to stuf like 100gecs, glitchgum, etc. fav songs are stupid horse, sugarcrash, sympathy 4 the grinch, toothless, and of course never met

⚡️- also likes rhythm games whether or not he’s good at them

⚡️- meme addict(that’s a given) fav quote currently: macaroni with the chicken strips ah~

⚡️- you have to remind this mfker how to human, even when’s he’s not busy he just forgets basic things like drinking water or ya know eating

⚡️- he can sing, he can totally sing, you cannot convince me he can’t sing-LOOK AT HIM AND THEN LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME HE COULDNT NAIL SOME EARLY 2000’s PUNK ROCK

⚡️- loves accessorizing: earrings, rings, necklaces, hair clips, pants chains, you name it(also a give in)

⚡️- rly has a boi next door kinda vibe to him, like the main protagonist in all those old teen movies who was always in a band and lowkey into alt culture but was still super chill and hella goofy

⚡️- loves vr youtubers, anime, and cartoons. Also lowkey a Disney enthusiast.

⚡️- very casual kpop fan, like doesn’t listen to everything but could probably name a random song if you play one around him

⚡️- uses Reddit

⚡️- since he can play the guitar and MOST DEFINITELY CAN SING, I like to imagine he’s tried to write songs before. Or maybe like vent writes in general, just some good ol word vomit on paper probably has drawer full of scrap paper with random thoughts on them

⚡️- doodler, he’s a doodler. You already know, bored in class doodles got nothing to do doodles finishes lunch earlier than my friends and now I’m just sitting here doodles it’s 3am and I got a random energy spike doodles. He doodles, and is actually pretty good at it

⚡️- he would just be so fun to hang around, pretty bois vibes are just ✨immaculate✨, would make you laugh until your lungs collapse at the drop of a hat but would also be able to hold a serious conversation or lend an ear if you needed someone to talk to. He’s a good boi that’s all I can say🥰(for now😂)