#i read that in middle school so i didnt pick up on it but my god

[orangepeelknives]

holy shit i just finished reading better half and WOOOWWWWW such an incredible fic you wrote them so so sweet and so so tender and i will so absolutely be reading everything else because it made me feel emotions i didnt know existed ive immediately recommended it to like ALL my friends !!!!!

would you ever write something just focused around the time they're spending apart at worlds ?? no pressure or anything im just new here and curious

loved your fic !!!!!!

hi thank u sm!!!!!

opened this yesterday at a coffee shop and was like yk what so true i need to write the yearning the pining the separation anxiety of it all. here's a little gift just for u, everyone say thank you thatonecode for the ask!!

Look, Mack’s having the time of his life, okay?

He’s on team Canada. He’s occasionally lineys with Sidney fucking Crosby, he’s scoring goals with his childhood idols, okay?

It’s just that—

Well.

It’s fucking embarrassing. It’s fucking embarrassing, but he misses Will. 

He’s in Stockholm, living out every Canadian kid’s fantasy, and he still keeps checking his phone like a lovesick idiot between periods. It’s humiliating. His teammates are playing ping-pong and blasting The Tragically Hip in the lounge, and Mack’s hiding in a stairwell like he’s in middle school waiting for his crush to text back.

And then his screen lights up.

Smitty: Incoming call

Mack answers too fast. Way too fast.

Will’s face fills the screen, backlit by the kind of awful hotel lamp every IIHF room seems to come with, and Mack feels something stupid and warm twist in his chest. Will’s hair is sticking up in a thousand directions, and his USA hoodie is slipping off one shoulder like he doesn’t even notice. He grins when he sees Mack.

“You miss me yet, Celly?”

Mack makes a face. “No.”

“Liar.”

“How’s Canada?” Will asks, stretching out against some beige-looking headboard. “Still out there playing all-star team-up with your heroes?”

Mack shrugs, trying not to look smug. “Crosby said ‘nice backcheck’ to me today.”

Will fake-clutches his heart. “You gonna get that tattooed?”

“Eat shit.”

“You are glowing though. Like emotionally. I’m proud of you.”

Mack groans and leans back against the cold stairwell wall. “Why do you talk like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a contestant on The Bachelor.”

Will laughs. “Okay, but I am proud. It’s cool, man. First year done, and now you’re out there, holding your own with guys we grew up watching.”

Mack shrugs again, quieter this time. “Yeah. It’s… kinda unreal.”

They sit with that for a second. Mack picks at the seam of his sleeve.

It’s always like this with Will, he says something warm like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t cost him anything.

And every time, it hits Mack in this dumb, molten place in his chest.

He doesn’t know what to do with it, so he just keeps his head down, digging his thumb into the stitching of his hoodie like he’s trying to wear a hole through it. He can score goals with Crosby. He can take a chirp from Flower without blinking. But this, just Will, being easy and sincere, is the thing that knocks the wind out of him.

“You looked good against Germany,” he says eventually, eyes not quite on the screen. “Like – annoyingly good.”

Will perks up. “So you did watch.”

“Whatever. There was nothing else on.”

“Dude. You’re in Sweden. There’s probably like fifty things on.”

Mack doesn’t answer. He just looks at Will’s stupid face, grainy on the screen, all lit up by that crappy hotel lamp. And he feels—

Something. Not the kind of thing he’s good at naming.

“Look,” Will says suddenly, leaning in a little, voice just a touch softer, “if we win the next two, we fly to Stockholm.”

Mack’s stomach does a weird lurch thing. He ignores it.

“Assuming we’re still alive in the bracket.”

Will grins. “Well yeah. You guys look like you’re trying to win gold and start a new dynasty.”

Mack shrugs, like that’s obvious. “Why else would we be here?”

Will laughs, but he looks at Mack for a second too long, like he sees more than Mack wants him to.

Then he says, “If we make it over there, don’t get all weird and starstruck, okay? You’re not allowed to big-time me.”

Mack snorts. “You’ll be lucky if I even talk to you in the hallway.”

“Guess I’ll just have to trip you in warmups, then.”

Mack grins. “Try it. I’ll put you through the glass.”

“Can’t wait,” Will says, and his voice is casual, but something in it catches. Just for a second.

Mack hears footsteps up the stairs and sits up straight, heartbeat doing something stupid. He says, “You better make it out of quarters.”

And Will, without missing a beat, says, “Yeah. I will.”

***

Practice is sharp. Crisp. Hyper-efficient in that Team Canada way, where even the water breaks feel choreographed. Crosby sets the tone, smooth and unbothered, like he’s skating on a different axis than the rest of them, and everyone falls in line. Mack included.

He’s fine.

He great.

They’re running line rushes and situational drills, and Mack’s paired with MacKinnon and TK for a stretch, which should be the highlight of his week, if not his whole life. MacKinnon’s chirping in between reps, clipped and competitive, while TK is bouncing around like he drank six Red Bulls before warmup. It’s fun. It’s fast. It’s everything Mack’s supposed to want.

But it feels – off.

Not in a bad way. Just… quieter.

Will would’ve been yelling by now. Not even at anything in particular. Just narrating a drill, trash-talking goalies, calling Mack Celly every time he missed top corner. He would’ve fake-tripped him during line changes. He would’ve dragged Fantilli into some elaborate bit about who had the worst flow on the team.

Instead it’s just—

Professional.

Focused.

Mack doesn’t hate it, exactly. He likes being locked in. Likes the way everyone here takes the game seriously. It’s not like being with Will is better, it’s just different. Less static in his brain. Less noticeable silence when a drill ends and nobody elbows him or says yo, you see me cook that guy? in that idiot voice Will uses when he’s trying to be humble and unbearable at the same time.

“Eyes up, Celebrini,” someone snaps – Montour, cutting across the slot.

Mack jerks his head up. Realizes he’s drifting, puck barely hanging on his stick.

“Yeah, got it,” he mutters, and tightens his grip.

He digs in after that. Pushes harder. Out-skates a couple of the older guys just to feel his legs burn. Puts one bar-down and hears Fleury swear behind his mask. That part feels good. That part feels like something he can control.

Fantilli taps his shinpad during a water break. “You’re buzzing today.”

“Just trying to keep up,” Mack says, squinting into the rink lights.

Fantilli grins. “You’ve got Crosby on your line, bro. You’re not allowed to say that.”

Mack shrugs and takes a sip from his bottle. His phone’s back in the locker room, but he’s aware of it like a second heartbeat. A stupid itch in his brain. Like if he checks, maybe Will will’ve sent something dumb, some blurry selfie from Herning, or a voice memo of him singing Celine Dion in the team bus, off-key on purpose.

But the rink’s quiet. Focused. No Will.

Just Mack, skating hard and thinking too loud.

By the time they wrap, Mack’s sweat-soaked and running hot, but it’s a good kind of ache. Controlled burn. He dumps his gear in a heap and peels off his undershirt, heartbeat still drumming against his ribs. The locker room’s buzzing with low chatter – TK tossing a tape roll at Fleury, Crosby dissecting faceoffs with Horvat.

Mack sits back on the bench and finally checks his phone.

One text from Will.

bro gauth brought his whole gaming setup. We are in hell. i can’t take this many grown men screaming about apex at 1am

Mack stares at it for a second too long. Then thumbs out a reply.

Tell him he’s ass.

Three dots show up right away, then vanish. Then come back.

he said 1v1. i told him you’d do it for me.

Mack snorts, but it doesn’t quite hit his face. He can picture it so clearly, Will sprawled on some hotel bed, headset tangled in his hair, chirping Cutter and getting chirped back, that easy, noisy chaos he always drags with him.

They’re probably all in some suite right now, shouting over each other, Gauthier playing DJ, someone trying to order pizza, Will getting fake mad when they forget his soda. Fantilli’s cool, sure, but it’s not the same. Mack doesn’t miss that, he just—

He doesn’t know. Maybe his hotel’s just too quiet.

“Your buddy lighting it up?” Schenn asks, nodding toward the phone.

Mack blinks, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“Smith. Saw the highlights. Kid’s flying.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Mack says, voice neutral. “He’s fine.”

Schenn laughs. “Relax. Not a threat to your gold medal or anything.”

Mack forces a smile and sets his phone screen-down on the bench beside him.

He’s not worried. He knows what Will’s like – loud, social, magnetic. Everyone likes him. Mack usually likes that too. It’s just—

Weird, seeing it from the outside. Knowing he’s not there in the middle of it. Knowing someone else is probably laughing at the same dumb impressions Mack used to get first.

He scratches the back of his neck and looks down at his skates. There’s a piece of tape stuck to one blade. He peels it off slowly, letting the hum of the locker room swell around him.

***

Third period, four minutes left, and they’re up by two. Should be locked down. Should be easy.

And then Mack fucks it.

It’s not massive – he misreads a play at the blue line, tries to step up when he should’ve dropped back, and Slovakia springs a two-on-one the other way. Fleury does what Fleury does – makes the save look surgical – but it’s still a mess. A dumb, rookie read. On international ice. In front of half the guys who used to be on his bedroom wall.

Mack skates back to the bench with heat crawling up his neck.

No one says anything.

Which, somehow, makes it worse.

Crosby leans forward on the bench, talking to MacKinnon about something neutral, faceoffs or forechecking or the price of eggs, Mack doesn’t know. Fleury taps his post once. Brayden Schenn takes a long swig from his water bottle. No one looks at him. No one chirps him. It’s not even a teaching moment. It’s just a silence that says: you should’ve known better.

He parks himself at the end of the bench and stares straight ahead, gloves clenched in his lap.

The next few minutes drag. He doesn’t get another shift. He wouldn’t have trusted himself with one, anyway.

By the time the buzzer goes and Canada wins 4–2, Mack feels like he’s been dipped in cement. Numb, but heavy. The others are buzzing, helmet taps, stick knocks, good job boys. He joins the line for the handshake with all the correct body language, all the right gestures, but his skull’s filled with static. The kind that doesn’t turn off.

He can still see it, his skate drifting too far in, his pivot a half-second late. He’d gambled on a read and lost. He doesn’t get to lose. Not here. Not when he’s already the youngest. Not when his entire value feels like it hangs on being undeniable.

By the time they’re back in the room, he’s sweating again under his gear, not from effort but adrenaline backlash. The kind that eats you.

He showers fast. Doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Fantilli claps him on the shoulder and says, “Good win,” and Mack doesn’t know if it’s real or if he’s just being nice.

His phone’s waiting for him in the stall. He checks it like it might’ve changed something.

No texts.

Which – obviously. Will’s probably at practice. Or watching film. Or getting chirped by Gauthier. Or doing any number of normal things not related to Mack fucking up a defensive read in Stockholm.

Mack locks his phone again. Leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

He’s not gonna cry. He’s not. He’s not twelve. He’s not soft.

But it’s loud in his head and too quiet in the room and he keeps thinking – Will would’ve said something. Not fixed it, just… made it easier to breathe.

He’s out of the room before anyone can really stop him. Fastest shower of his life. Doesn’t even do the whole shampoo thing, just gets clean and gets gone. His hoodie sticks to damp skin as he yanks it on, everything just a little off. A little too tight, a little too loud, a little too much.

Fantilli catches him at the doorway.

“Hey,” he says, upbeat but casual. “We’re getting food at the hotel bar if you’re hungry. Schenn said he’s buying if anyone beats him at shuffleboard.”

Mack huffs out something that could be a laugh. It isn’t. “Nah. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Mack says. His smile is fake. He knows it’s fake. Fantilli probably knows too.

“Alright, man. Catch you later.”

Mack nods and leaves before anyone else tries to talk to him. He takes the back stairwell instead of the elevator and pulls his hood up even though he’s still overheated from the game. The stairs echo under his feet. He doesn’t know if he’s in a rush to get back or just trying to outrun the feeling in his chest, like his ribs are a cage, and whatever’s inside is pissed about it.

Back in the room, he flips on the TV just for noise. Doesn’t look at it. Doesn’t even know what language it’s in.

His phone buzzes.

It’s his dad.

Can’t leave guys out to dry like that. Read the lane. Stick down. Watch the tape.

No greeting. No “proud of you.” No “good win.” Just the read. The correction. The thing Mack already knows he did wrong, already feels carved into the back of his eyelids like it’s gonna be there forever.

He stares at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. For a second he thinks about throwing the phone across the room. Then he just locks it again.

Leans back on the bed and stares at the ceiling.

Everything’s quiet, but it’s not calm. It’s the kind of quiet that hums in his teeth.

He wants to text Will.

It bubbles up in him like a reflex, the same way you’d reach for water when you’re choking. It’s not even about talking, really. Just – presence. Just someone else’s weight in the room to balance his own.

He wants Will to call him dramatic and mess up his hair and say “you’re fine, Celly, holy shit, one play,” and make it true.

But he doesn’t text him. Doesn’t even open the chat.

Because what would he say? I made one bad read and now I feel like I don’t deserve to be here and I want you to tell me I do and I don’t know why it has to be you but it does.

No.

He’s not twelve. He’s not soft.

He closes his eyes and wills the heat behind them away.

His phone buzzes again.

This time, it’s Will.

good game, celly

that tip in the second was nasty

Mack stares at the text. Something clenches behind his ribs.

He types back before he can think better of it.

It wasn’t a good game. I fucked up

Sends it. Regrets it instantly. Not because it’s wrong, but because it feels—

He doesn’t know. Sharp. Exposed. Dumb.

He puts the phone down face-down on the nightstand like that’ll stop it from—

It starts buzzing.

Facetime.

Of course.

Mack sighs, then flips it over and answers it without thinking.

Will’s face pops up immediately, grainy in hotel-room lighting, hair still wet like he just showered too. He’s got that dumb headboard behind him again. He’s smiling.

“Hi,” Will says, like it’s obvious. “What’s your problem.”

Mack scowls. “I told you. I fucked up.”

“You won the game.”

“I left Fleury out to dry.”

Will raises an eyebrow. “Pretty sure Fleury’s not mad. He posted a picture of the win with a bear emoji like five minutes ago.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

Will just blinks at him. Then shifts so he’s propped on one elbow. “Okay, so you made a bad read. Boo hoo.”

Mack glares. “You’re so annoying.”

“Uh-huh. And you’re a baby when you don’t get to win every shift. This isn’t new, Celly.”

Mack’s stomach knots at the nickname. He tries to roll his eyes. “Whatever.”

There’s a pause. Not tense. Just quiet enough for the weight of it to settle.

Then Will says, softer, “You’re fine, you know. You’re here for a reason.”

Mack looks away from the screen, jaw tight.

“I’m serious,” Will says. “You’re – you’re not perfect. Thank god, because you’d be even worse to deal with. But you’re good. You belong there.”

Mack doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t know how to. The back of his throat feels hot again.

Will waits.

And Mack, he hates that he likes that. Hates how it helps, how just having Will on the line makes everything feel slightly less sharp around the edges.

He swallows, still not looking at the screen. His voice comes out low. “It’s just – when I mess up like that, I can feel it. The whole shift turns. It’s like – like I poisoned the bench.”

“That’s not real,” Will says immediately. “That’s your weird little brain doing its dramatic spiral.”

Mack huffs a laugh, but it sounds wrong in his own ears. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see how Crosby looked at me.”

“He probably looked at you like that because you skate like a psychopath when you’re mad.”

“I don’t—” Mack starts, then stops himself, teeth clicking shut. “Whatever.”

Will doesn’t press. He just shifts again, camera wobbling, like he’s flipping over onto his back. “You hold yourself tighter than anyone I’ve ever met. Even when you’re great, which is, like, usually, you act like one mistake makes it all worthless. And I don’t know who taught you that, but it’s bullshit.”

Mack stares at the ceiling.

It’s not like he hasn’t heard this before, versions of it, from Will. Always with the same easy certainty, like it’s not even a debate. But it never lands quite right in Mack’s body. It gets in, but it doesn’t stick. It slides around, softens the edges, but doesn’t settle.

Because what if Will’s wrong? What if the whole reason he’s here is just a fluke, and one bad play does mean he doesn’t belong?

But Will believes it.

That’s the worst part. Will says it like it’s a given, like he couldn’t imagine anything else. Like Mack’s value is something obvious.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Mack says finally, voice a little hoarse. “You – you don’t carry it like I do.”

Will’s quiet for a second. Then he says, “No. I don’t. You carry way too much.”

And then, after a beat, more gently: “That’s why I always call when you start melting down.”

Mack presses the heel of his palm to his eye. “I’m not melting down.”

“You’re spiraling. It’s adjacent.”

“Whatever.”

Will hums, pleased, like he won that one. Then he adds, “You could’ve told me you were having a bad night instead of being a little freak about it.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No you’re not.”

Mack doesn’t.

Will’s right, of course. He never does.

[sheepispink]

woah.. pinksheep drops.. two fics..?? In one day..???

yes hello, @pythonmoth said they wanted to read a saiki fic and i remembered i have one that’d been in my drafts for like.. months.

this is probably the most self indulgent thing i’ve posted, i mean this is all based on real experiences except i didnt have saiki so i cried instead LOL ok anywya enjoy the hurt/comfort fic

saiki k x reader obvs, thats what we’re about round here

——

It was almost a month ago when it first occured, a strange feeling in the air. It felt stiff and coarse, like he was reading the thoughts of someone in the vicinity but all he could sense at the moment was the sick feeling in their stomach. It was a strange phenomenon, one that he couldnt place for once and so he carried on to his classroom, sitting in his designated seat as per usual. Teruhashi hadn’t yet arrived so he wouldn't have to worry about that noise this early in the day and Kaidou and Nendo seemed to be bickering further away from him than usual. There was you, who was talking to a few friends by the window. Moreso listening in on the conversation than speaking, but he knew you werent quite the talker if the conversation didnt involve things you knew. So you blinked as you watched your friends discuss, eyes occasionally venturing to the clouds outside before you quickly pay attention again. He doesnt know when he had learned that piece of information but he supposes he must’ve picked it up subconsciously. Telepathy always revealed everyone’s secrets to him no matter how much he tried to block it out.

Despite the relatively typical atmosphere in this classroom, that feeling was still amiss in the air as if it lingered in someone, not easy to decipher or find. It disappeared once the lesson began, replaced by the contemplative thoughts of some of the students concentrating and well.. the more lazy thoughts of others. It’s a week after that and , as any day in his life, things dont work out particularly well for him before he’s dragged to the cafeteria to grab lunch with his so called ‘gang’ (Kaidou’s words, not his) consisting of Nendo, Kuboyasu and of course, Kaidou himself. The usual blabber was passing through his ears like sand: Kaidou describing how dark reunion had caused another serious issue nearby and how he had magically solved it all by himself. However, Saiki found the chatter drowned out by that ominous feeling again. It felt like it had worsened this time, like the owner of this was miserable of a sort but as he glances around the place he can't find a hint of it upon any of the faces.

Of course there’s Takahashi grumbling over something stupid again or Toritsuka managing to creep out yet another girl, earning a slap across his face. Teruhashi looks vibrant as ever, the people surrounding her unable to even be upset for a second as they consider it a crime to even frown in her presence, and you and your friend group are chatting away again. Well, not you, like he said earlier, you dont like to involve yourself in matters you dont enjoy. Then as the lunch bell rings and the groups disperse back to the seperate classes, that feeling disappears again and he’s left with Kaidou’s chatter deafening him once more. Good grief, he never seems to get a break.

It’s the week before exams when it happens again; the school is buzzing with stressed students and many praying to God that they get a better grade than the last time. Saiki has never once been bothered about such things, after all, he can easily ace all the tests as he’s mentioned before. That doesn't mean he does though, he prefers to be in the middle, a perfect average preferably but life doesn't seem to let him get that either. Besides, you like taking up the higher spaces on the board, the whole class deems you as the smartest there. When he walks in that morning, he’s not surprised by the sight of pupils surrounding the blackboard you write on, spending the time before class to teach them any topics they’re particularly stuck on. Kaidou seemed to take his advice today, one of the ones at the front of the little semicircle and often asking you questions. Well, hopefully that pays off for him not that it usually does but who is he to deny? You certainly have saved quite a lot of the class the trouble of repeating the year just with some quick morning explanations.

Thats not what he’s quite focused on though, moreso when they disperse and you walk away back to your little friend group, that feeling returns harsher and somehow more overwhelming than the last. He glances around, wondering if one of the students watching you was particularly stressed about the exams next week but nothing noticeable seemed to come to the surface. Before he can investigate further, the bell rings signalling the beginning of class and the feeling is gone just as fast as it came and thus leaving him far more confused than before.

Today is the Friday before the exam week. He’s been hearing yammering thoughts every single day that if he wasn't so used to all these voices he was sure that he’d have a splitting headache by now. Any normal person would but then again, he wasn't very normal. He sat down at his desk as per usual, removing his bag and opening his things whilst the mindless chatter played in the background. That was the panic of the students of course, quickly asking you to solve last minute problems for them. One of them had you slightly stumped, your eyes narrowed as you looked carefully at the board. It wasnt like you knew the answer to everything, of course not, you often admitted to skipping particularly hard questions that left you with no ideas in the slightest. It’s not that, no, it’s not even when you suggest the student take it to the teacher instead— it’s something else entirely that triggers this.

Your friends join you by the board, looking at the question and muttering something about how they’d definitely fail the exam if that topic was on it. You smile for once, finding the words relatable and finally speak up this time. “Me too, I hate this topic the most.”

It’s your friend’s reply that does it. “Oh shut up, you always do well. Stop acting humble, you know it too.”

That feeling hits him so suddenly that he only receives a small chance to realise his own friends approaching him. “Heya earth to Saiki? We were calling ya ages ago.” Nendo waves his large hand in his face, making him pull back immediately and pull the best disgusted face he could before Kuboyasu makes Nendo cut it out. “Didnt you hear? We have free periods to study, no need to sit here and wait around. We’re gonna head to the library, you coming?” When did he ever have a choice? Kusou takes the moment to roll his eyes up before standing, signalling his answer and they turn on their heel to start walking. However, before he joins them he cant help but glance back at you, wondering how you could easily laugh in response to her words when you have such a heavy feeling of dread in yourself from it.

Wednesday. It’s the only day they have two exams in a day but it’s not something many have complained about either. The thing was, the first exam was a science one— of course it was pretty important. However, the second was only a mere world history exam. It was one of the easier tests and even if you failed it, you wouldnt be set back in the slightest. Naturally the tension in the air has eased up a lot after the first exam, leading them into their extended lunch time before the next one. The corridors are empty, most of the students already having grabbed their things from their lockers and heading to go eat their stress away. He’s heading down the stairs, hoping for a moment of reprieve in the farce of putting his bag into his locker since they obviously werent allowed in the exam hall. It’s only when he reaches the last step does he clench the railing, suddenly shook with the sudden feeling of despair. It’s like it radiates throughout the entire hallway, menacing and destructive and he’s sure it would tear out the owner’s heart. As he had previously discovered, it seemed to linger in yours however it had never been quite this bad and he couldnt understand why it was.

Had someone hurt you? Did your friends do something to you?

He walks down the corridor at a somewhat sped up pace because as much as this affected you, it also made his head particularly uncomfortable too. There you stand by your locker in the distance, your voice muffled from the feeling as you seem to.. beg your friends? They’re walking away from you and the situation looks nothing quite like the horror your brain is currently experiencing at this given moment. Soon enough, it’s just the two of you in this corridor and he doesnt know why he’s even approaching you— he just wants that feeling to get out of his head too. “Oh.. Saiki.” You say, voice so soft and a small look of surprise as your lips part. You swallow a little sharply and glance at him and despite his powers, the only thing he can read in your mind is that you’re pretty afraid of inconveniencing him.

“Do you need something?” He realises he’s been staring at you for a moment now and quickly shakes his head, instead pointing at your friends who were turning the corner to the stairs. “They’re just going to go eat, thats all, I’ll catch up to them in a moment.”

You give him a gentle smile and then glance at your locker, pausing before locking it albeit very hesitantly. What? That didnt make sense in the slightest what could be in there?

“So how did you find the test?”

He gives you a thumbs up in return, which only makes your smile brighten. You remind him of Hairo quite a bit, even though you’re not as much of an extrovert as he is. “That's great! I’m sure you’ll do well! You got a perfect average last year, didnt you? Honestly I think that's harder to achieve than the highest places.” You let out a soft laugh alongside your words even though he already knows how awkward you’re currently feeling. He feels just the slightest bit bad for that too; after all he’s the one who just suddenly appeared when you seemed to be feeling particularly low and now you were having to fake a bright smile. “I found the test good too, and I'm sure the next one will be a breeze too. A lot of people say it’s one of the easier ones.”

That confirms for him that it’s not exam stress you’re worried around. Well, at least not right now that’s causing the dread in you. So what is it? You’re both caught of guard when your stomach rumbles, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you sheepishly smile. “Arent you going to eat?” He finally asks, well telepathically anyway but no one ever notices.

“Oh right— well it’s in my bag.”

That makes him pause, wasn't your bag in your locker? Why didn't you just take it out?

You seem to take notice of his glance to your locker and this time your thoughts take an extremely nervous turn, your teeth grazing your lip awkwardly as you force a small smile. “Oh— my bag strap got stuck in my locker so I cant quite get it out.”

Even so, you dont ask him to help you or the like, just giving him an awkward smile as he stares at you. “Did your friends go get someone to help?” He says in return and somehow that dreadful feeling feels even worse than before.

“A-ah.. no..” You stammer out, both your hands shoving into your pockets as your teeth grit uncomfortably. “They uh, they didn't care too much. They just- they walked away.” That did not seem normal in the slightest and the way your lips twitched in your fake smile did not help. You always looked so happy with your friends, they looked happy with you— what the hell was happening here?

It takes him no less than a second to notice the way you’re falling apart in your head, chanting softly to yourself to just breathe, smile and carry on. You were silently praying that he’d take no notice of your fidgety behaviour, of your erratic breaths or the dark circles beneath your eyes. It feels weird that for once, someone wants him to go rather than to stay. Usually, he’d take that as a warm opportunity to dash as soon as he could, avoiding the situation altogether.

Before it can escalate, he decided he might aswell just solve the problem at hand, extending his palm facing up to the little keys you hold in your hand for your locker. Your eyes widen and you immediately follow his notion, dropping it into his hand. He steps infront of you, opening the locker and looking at the bag strap stuck there. He was still not quite the best as controlling his strength but he could use telekinesis to make sure this didn't get too out of hand. To be fair, you werent exactly overreacting, it did look like it had got stuck quite badly but thankfully he was a psychic— nothing was ever out of his power. Unbeknownst you to, he’s fiddling with absolutely nothing, his mind undoing the bagstrap until your bag is free again. He quickly plops it into your arms, your shocked face evident before he closes the locker door once more.

“Th-thank you!”

Your smile returns now, bright and full of relief as that feeling slowly dissipates into nothing but a lingering worm eating at my brain.

Satisfied he turns on his heel, already walking down the hallway when you call out his name, rushing to keep up with him. Oh lord, he was starting to regret this action already. “Let me at least treat you to something! I usually have pack lunch so i dont have any money to buy school food but here.”

Your hand digs into your bag, quickly pulling out a plastic container. He cant see beyond the plastic, the aura of the dessert inside holding too much light for him to even imagine. He blinks and doesnt hesitate, taking the coffee jelly from your hands. “I made one for my friends, but you can have it instead! Tell me how it tastes.” You grin and then mumble something about having to revise for the next exam, running off down the hallway again.

Maybe it’s good to do nice things every once in a while, especially now he’s got a delicious snack for free.

[driella]

You’ve talked a bit about young Bunny before, what are your kid Bunny headcanons? :D

Oh my god I love this questions, thanks for asking me! Well, i really a fan of young Bunny, so here we GO!:

When Bunny was a little boy, he didn;t really have friends at the boarding school and often get bully because of his dyslexia and his weird playful attitude. However, if he's alone around the boarding school, he would sneak into art studio and bother his favourite teacher.

2. HE HAD FAVOURITE TEACHER WKWKWKWK, Well Bunny called her Mrs who knows everything because she always know what Bunny had been up to or is he in trouble. She always look after him even thought he repeated twice in the first grade because of his probelms. They are like: A pretty, kind teacher with little minion who wont let go of her. Bunny always helped her with open heart but she always gave him a pocket money or treats whenever he help her with something or just feel like want to buy him something.

3.Bunny always got A+ in his arts exams and projects, he did love science when his teacher talk about animals mostly but really hate to take a note.

4.The only brother Bunny truly closed is Hugh (in my opinion he's the first son and the most responsible one) When Bunny was a little boy, barely 6 when he diagnosed he had dyslexia, his mother didn't really take it seriously and said Bunny is just being "Dramatic" like his father but Hugh, he joined college that near their hometown so he can come everyday to teach Bunny how to read and help him with his dyslexia.

5. Bunny loved his brothers with his hearts even thought they always dismissed him or just not really close with him. Bunny sometimes feel like the outsider from his brothers but Hugh or Brady is the one who include Bunny in their conversation or activity.

6.Bunny HATE sharing his Twinkies but he only share his last twinkies mostly with Hugh, his favourite art teacher and his dad.

7.Bunny always afraid with his mother, though he loved her so much. He always thought his mother hate him until he's 12 his mother slowly softened to him and made him not afraid of her anymore.

8. Bunny always admired his brother, dreamed to be like them and growing up he didn't really know who is he. The only thing he know about himself is he's dumb, he love art and twinkies, and he love music.

9. Bunny proudly tapped his arts on his side of the wall (he shared bedroom with Teddy) even thought his mother forced him to take it off because it ruined the wallpaper (he didnt care)

10. The name Bunny was because he called himself Bunny when he barely talk. They had a dwaft bunny when Bunny was a baby, Bunny always with the little friend until one day:

Mr Corcoran picked up his youngest son to the air and said, "Who's Little Eddie, Lift up your hands!" cheerfully. The youngest son, Edmund, didn't lift his small fists, but his grinned cheekily as he mumbled "Baaa-nyeee" The third son, Patrick smirked and pointed his pencil to his little brother, "Aha, he spent too much time with snowball until he called himself Bunny."

11. Bunny loved cold despite his sensitivities with weather and always being over dramatic when he get sick because he just want attention.

12. it became his brothers's probelms lol

13. When little Bunny stress (mostly about his dyslexia made him feels dumber) He hid in forest behind his backyard because there's a river and a tree that bend over across the river like a bridge, Bunny called it "the sleeping tree" He always sat on it, eat his twinkies, talk to himself or the tree or even a squirrel while drawing.

14. Bunny joined football because he wanted to get notice by everyone, like finally to be seen. Ended up, he's the burden in the team, the one who forced himself to keep going even thought his lungs feels like going to explode anytime, the one who fell in the middle of final game because he can't breath.

15. When he saw Hugh overwork himself with college works, Bunny would sat beside him silently, bring him twinkies, slices of apple (asked anyone to cut it for him) a water to him, then snuggle close to his brother.

16. Bunny wasn't really loud when he's alone or at home, he only being the noise Bunny when he at outside to get everyone's attentions.

17. Bunny asked less for toys but more to expensive art supplies because he want his art to have a "good quality" colours, brushstrokes, and shading.

18.Bunny not eat much because we all know his parents sent their sons to boearding school to "fend" themselves, Bunny didn't have money so either he ask his brothers for money (if they in the good mood) or just steal someone's money or foods.

19.Bunny had Anaemia without he realize it, when doctor told his mother he needs balanced diet, she agreed but when they arrived at home she acted like nothing and still didn't do her job to help him (He only eat pills)

20. Bunny didn't know what he want to be when he grown up and he bet he gonna join art college and have a girlfriend who love art like him and they can do art swap together as little date.

[katsukota]

Mean and Meaner

(Part one)

Katsuki Bakugou is notoriously vicious, and just down right cruel in most circumstances. The class of 1-A had just started to grow accustomed to him, however, a certain turn of events changes the balance of the hero course students.

Training Arc spoilers, most likely differs from canon since its been a fat fucking minute since ive watched / read that early into the series + My writing is a bit rusty so my b 😨

Part two coming soon ! ! Requests open as well 😈

Katsuki Bakugou was the epitome of anger, explosive behavior, even having a matching quirk. In the most blunt way possible, he was fucking mean.

Izuku, anyone close to him, and even anyone anywhere in a mile radius can testify for this fact.

If Katsuki is walking in the middle of the hallway, it's you who should move for him. If you somehow convince him to hang out or have a movie night, it's a given he's calling the shots and picking the movie. It doesn't matter whether you snap back, or are the embodiment of sweetness. He'll blast you into tomorrow at any verbal backlash, and kind words will be ignored if you're lucky.

Nevertheless, he was an integral part of UAs Hero Course. As loud, and brash as he was, he earned his way into the school, earning his spot at the very top of the entrance exams, and the sports festival. Despite how difficult it was starting out, and even though he'd never admit it, he'd made friends in 1-A, and stupidly enough, he thought, cared for his classmates.

That's probably how he got into this mess, is it not ? He trained vigorously, was absolutely naturally talented, bright as ever-- No logical explanation, even though he was there, being the victim of the crime, would make him understand how he ever got here. In a dingy, mildew ridden, room, tied and strapped to a chair. It was raggedy, and had an annoying scent of iron that wasn't even slowly, but definitely surely, driving him insane. This was nothing like the wealthier and more comforted parts of his or Dekus home. The change in atmosphere continued to unease him, despite how he'd stay firm in his angered stance.

Before he could let himself even acknowledge how uncomfortable it really all was, what he thought was going to be a second villain encounter, charged at him head on.

You, unwavering, glaring, and everything Katsuki deep down despised in himself, stomped up to him and pushed your finger into his unguarded chest.

"Hah?" He wasn't scared, not of a weakling like you. Youd just be another run of the mill villain, and despite how grim his chances were, no way in hell was he giving up. "Just who the fuck are you ?"

His confidence wavered for only heartbeat, when you just laughed right in his face.

How fucking rude.

"I could be asking you that. I thought the league captured people with potential. Not some dumb bitch who's still cuffed up and has his tail between his legs like a lost puppy stranded in the rain."

His jaw dropped a bit, but before he could even bite back, you just about ripped his throat out with tiger-like fangs.

"God. I was actually hoping I could have an escape buddy, not some hero wannabe. This is fucking embarrassing, im glad I never enrolled in those shitty, stuck up school. You're too busy learning how to wipe your ass to protect yourself when it comes down to it. Pa-the-tic."

He looked at you, shocked. For one of the only times in his life, Katsuki Bakugou was dumbfounded. He didnt even have the chance to attack before you basically clocked him. All of his insecurities and fears bubbling up.

Is this how Izuku felt ?

He was quick to snap out of it though, when he saw a familiar, snarky grin. Where he remembered it from, he was unsure.

"And who are you to be saying that ? You look about my age, so it's clear you're just a no brained drop out who had no other options but to be a fucking whore to some loser villain gang. You wouldn't stand a chance against the heroes."

There it was again, that grating, irritating laugh, that echoed throughout the damp room, and through each bone in his body. Hes not scared, is he ?

"God, you really ARE dumb." You genuinely laughed, usually finding amusement in how easy it was to tick people off, but this was just absurd. "You sure are jumpy, scared. Especially with conclusions. Your critical thinking skills are in desperate need of a first grade class, how'd you even graduate ?

He looked at you, growing more angry. If it weren't for the stupid binding, and the hope the heroes would find him before he had to take things into his own hands, he wouldve knocked the shit out of you yesterday.

"What do you mean, fuckface ? If you have something to say, just spit it out already. No one has time for your shit."

You scoffed. "Clearly the league does." Before he could accuse you of anything else, you pulled out a large cuffed hand locking device, in the metal, a name was carved in. "The league scouted me first, obviously thought I was stronger. More worthy than you." You stuck your tongue out, teasing him with salt in his wound. "Of course I don't have time for that bullshit. Both heroes and villains are way out of their fucking minds. They look like little kids tripping over themselves to play pretend." You looked him dead in his ruby red eyes, "You all need to grow up."

He was beyond pissed at this point, who the fuck did you think you were ? Just who were you ? Was that name yours ? No way you had a fucking custom made handcuff. Was it due to your strength ? How long have you been here ? What have you even been doing to get found by the League ? Who are you ?

Before he realized it, his boiling anger turned into an itching curiosity.

But over his dead fucking body would that be clear.

"Great, so you're a dumbass and delusional. What makes you think getting kidnapped is a compliment ? Did they take you from the fucking psych ward ? For everyone's sake you should be put back in."

You laughed, again. The way his words barely even effected you irritated him, the way youd easily bite back with something arguably even meaner, you irritated the fuck out of him.

"Then what is it, ready to accept the fact you're just that weak then ? If it's not a compliment, what is it ? A show of how gullible you "Heroes" are ? Nice fucking try."

The argument stopped there, but for the next few days, the bickering between you rarely ceases.

Occasionally, a league member will come in to shut you up, and re cuff you, scolding you for 'escaping.'

You, not even waiting for the villain to exit, but as soon as they turn your back to you, would unlock them with ease.

"If you can get out so easily, why dont you just fucking leave ? For someone who pretends to be so smart and strong, you really have a lack of self preservation."

"Hah, rich coming from you ! What are all those muscles for ? Can't break out of some chains ? Bet you're just a fatass pretending to be strong."

"HEY ! Fuckin watch whatcha say. I could get out quicker than you, kill every lowlife here, " He paused, looking you in the eyes as intimidatingly as he could, "Including you, and escape with time on my hands."

You laughed and punched his shoulder, slowly but surely getting closer and more annoying throughout the days. He hated to admit it, but your punches weren't light. They had a kick to them. It was a little relieving, knowing it wasn't just him and a dead weight.

"Okay, keep dreaming. And you say I'm the delusional one. If it weren't for some big shot hero school, you'd be applying for residential hospital services. Maybe we would've met there."

"Dont get fuckin sappy, the heroes are gonna be here soon, and ill be back to my life and forget you ever existed."

"God I fucking hope so."

[hyperref-lex-ia]

lots of common reactions i get as a mute person

all the following are peoples reaction when they assume i am deaf, the most common assumption

- flustered and lifts hands to try and sign and then lowers them when they realize they dont know ASL

- flustered and starts to sputter and talk before settling on mouthing things at me

- mouths “can you lip read”

- talks really loud at me (which wouldnt do much if i was deaf so idk)

- goes to find something to write on

- sometimes if i type on my phone in my notes when i need to say something other than yes or no people will go to literally take my phone from me to type back instead of literally anything else

- signs some of the more common sign, i get thank you a lot (especially in customer service situations, which is where most of these happen)

- if it is someone on the street saying something and they assume im deaf when i sign at them they usually just disregard me which is actually really nice

these next ones are when people dont assume im deaf, which is rarer

- talks to me normal

- talks to me like im dumb

heres a few nice incidents

- guy asked me if i was mute in spanish and i nodded and he asked if i knew spanish and i was like not really lol (live in a heavily hispanic area so i picked up on enough to understand) and he switches to english and shares about a talk he had gone to recently about mutism

- girl working at sonic assumed i was deaf and ran inside just to grab her phone to help me which i thought was really sweet so i just didnt correct her

- just today i was using the self checkout at a gas station and the guy behind the register sees me getting frustrated with the card reader and slides over a piece of receipt paper that says “tap works better” and i am like “i dont have tap” and i decide to just cancel the self checkout and move to him cause hes got good vibes and he holds the bag up and raises an eyebrow allowing me to have a choice in it which i dont often get. when i am leaving he signs “have a good day” super slow and obviously practiced a lot, and the fact that he obviously learned that just in case this happened made me really happy

- every time someone has happened to know ASL in public, its always surprising how many hearing/verbal people know ASL, almost always because they are CODA

- the enthusiastic gay man at my eye doctor who got so excited when he saw i signed even though he doesnt know it, because he thought it was so cool

- every person who goes “oh you speak ASL” and then immediately thinks about thay sentence and kind of 404 errors out as they realize you cant speak ASL

- the tiny middle aged mexican woman who has worked the store at my school the entire time ive been going there who knows me because i always go there for caffeine and snacks, and manages to always communicate with me despite a couple language barriers and will often berate me if i dont get water with my caffeine or if i dont get food, and who also wishes me happy holiday for every holiday that comes around, and was also very visibly worried when i had to rely on a cane for a few months

- my painting professor who always takes so much pressure off because hes so blunt, when i came in with a cane everyone danced around asking about it and he walks in and goes “what the hell happened to you??”, the most recent thing that made me laugh is we were talking and i was using TTS and as we are walking into the studios he goes “im gonna go talk with Ronnie, give your thumbs a break” and then we both started laughing

the worst interaction ive had

- had one of my professors numbers which happens sometimes because it makes life easier and she texted me out of the blue saying she “had a dream she was at my wedding and i spoke my vows” with heart emojis and i did not know this woman at all and i was like…what the fuck…not only is that unprofessional but also ableist

lastly shout out to my friends who translate for me purely off lip reading who dont know ASL

[kings-highway]

Trick or treat!

hello hello hello thank you for arriving at my door! for you, my lovely giant gay robot, i have curated a never-before-seen Ushiten drabble, written while I wait for my landlord to finish repairing the towel rack. Its about birthdays, its about autism, its about friendship, enjoy~

---

Ushijima has never really celebrated his birthday anyway. After his father had left, that kind of childish, big celebration had been pushed aside. His mother would give him a gift, something quiet and practical, new shoes, new sweater, books or something he needed for school. She'd make him his favourite meal, and then the day would be over. Ushijima wasn't really even sure if any of the other kids at school had known it was his birthday, but if they did, they didn't mention it. He was used to the affair being quiet and unassuming - unimportant.

So he's not particularly bothered by spending the day on his own. Shiratorizawa was a boarding school, even at the middle school grades, so he'd been celebrating his birthdays like this for some time now. He doesn't even think its worth mentioning to the new team - its his first year at the high school, first year with the team, first year with this roommate, none of it feels... relevant. Why should he make a big deal about something he doesnt care about?

He got a text from his mother that morning - nothing so far has come in from his father, but technically it's still yesterday for him, so he thinks maybe he just didnt consider the time change.

He unlocks the door to his dorm, but gets halfway through the process before finding out the door was already unlocked. With a frown, he pushes open the door, calling out a greeting and inciting the intruder - one fellow first year Tendou Satori - to shriek in surprise, trip himself backwards off the chair he was standing on, and flail all the way to the ground. Ushijima starts moving reflexively to try and catch him, but pretty much everything about this is flawed from the start. Although it's technically successful, it's clumsy and impractical and Tendou's gangly limbs have already started thrashing and twisting around, and apparently likes being held or supported about as much as a feral cat would.

So Ushijima lets him go, looking up at what he's been hanging on the wall and-

"Happy Birthday?" he reads off the banner.

Tendou, trying to catch his breath and recover from his scare, looks up at him with a red face.

"Yeah. It's your B-day, ain't it?"

"Uhh..."

"Sorry it's... a little lackluster. There would have been more, I promise, but I only figured out tmit was today like an hour ago. And I thought you'd be out longer."

Ushijima turns to face him. "What's happening?"

Tendou stares back, before straightening up and saying: "Well I was trying to throw you a surprise birthday party, but clearly there's a solar flare or something interrupting my guesswork because you came back really quick."

"I always go in the morning," Ushijima agrees.

"Its summer vaycay? Why are you at the gym on your birthday?"

"...I like it?"

"Weirdo," Tendou sings, before clearing his voice and opening his arms, as if becoming a different character entirely. "Either way, bienvenue à la birthday, Leon is picking up a cake right about now, and Semi is on his way over from his mum's."

"...Why?"

"Because it's your birthday," Tendou repeats, more firmly. "Are you dense or something? What about this is hard to understand?"

"I didnt ask anyone to come over," Ushijima says, a spark of panic glowing in his chest.

"I know, I know," Tendou says. "But you can't celebrate your birthday alone, that-" he cuts himself off, perhaps finally switching that intuition of his back on as he gets a look at Ushijima again, who has started flexing his hands, turning slowly to look over the room.

"I wasn't planning on celebrating like this," he says.

"Oh," Tendou says. "You really don't like surprises, do you?"

"I didn't ask people to come over," Ushijima replies. "I don't need them to bring me things, it is not that important to me, I don't... want to spend the evening in a group of people."

"Its not... just people, we're you're friends-"

"But you're still people," Ushijima says. "Who in short order will be in my room for an indeterminate amount of time and I will not be able to control when they leave nor will I be able to leave myself because I will already be home and-"

"Okay," Tendou says, putting his hands up and approaching slowly. "No worries at all. I can text the other guys, and they will stay away. We can just call it off."

Ushijima takes a slow breath.

He is beginning to think that maybe his lack of birthday celebrations was not, actually, lack of investment on his mother's part.

"Everyone will be annoyed, or mad, that they put the effort in, we should-"

"Hey, Ushi," Tendou says. "That's not your problem. Let me take care of it. Its your birthday, so you get to celebrate however you want. Thems the rules."

Ushijima nods slightly, looking back at him and trying to take in the sincerity in his expression. He's only known Tendou for a few months, but he's an odd little fellow, all spikey features and curled lips and exaggerated expressions. Ushijims thinks this is a new one, though, this kindness. He'd always just seemed... well, for lack of a kinder term, self-serving.

"You really won't be upset? That I'm refusing your party?"

Tendou smiles, shrugs, and says: "Hey, life's a lot more fun when you indulge everyone's weird little quirks. I'll plan something you like next year."

Ushijima frowns. "That sounded-"

"Like a threat? You betcha."

And this makes Ushijims smile. Almost. He thinks he would smile, but he doesnt feel his face do it. Maybe, he thinks, its because that althought Tendou joked about being a threat, it was more of a promise. And a promise meant that Tendou wanted to stick around at least that long.

"Thank you," Ushijima says, and Tendou gives him a mock salute, then turns and waltzes off to the door.

"Oh!" he says, turning around as he opens the door, pointing at him. "But you will have to put up with the gift. Its there on your desk-" Ushijims glances over to see the neat, cleanly wrapped narrow box. "Spoiler alert, its chocolate, but I... uh... did it wrong, so maybe dont eat it. But it's the thought that counts, right?"

Even from here, Ushijima can see the little gift tag hanging from the bow, and the messy, scratchy writing, where Tendou has tagged the gift not from himself or a group, but under the title of 'your bff.'

It is interesting, Ushijima thinks, that he would not have needed to know who it was from to understand the vague gift tag. He would have known. He's only known him a few months, but he would have known.

"Yes," Ushijima agrees, looking back to where Tendou was. "It is the thought that counts."

[lastoneout]

You know what, I just realized something that I can probably add to my list of reasons I'm more ND than I think I am...

So in middle school I found out The Princess Bride was based on a book I immediately decided to read it. But here's the thing, unlike the movie's framing device of a grandfather reading the book to his grandson, the book has one that's basically like an autobiography?? Where the author talks about his grandfather reading him the book as a kid and how it affected him growing up and how, eventually, he decided to "abridge" the original and publish the version you're reading. The author even says Florin and Guilder are real places, and gives "history" on them.

I found(and tbh still find) this part of the book exceptionally boring. It's mean spirted and depressing, and an absolute slog to get through. But I kept trucking through taking everything as complete truth, even though I was pretty sure these countries weren't real places. Europe is big after all and I was in middle school, maybe I just hadn't heard of them before. Thankfully once the "real" book, the story The Princess Bride, actually starts the intersections start to make sense and aren't as boring and I quite liked them more or less, even if they were a little confusing at times. I also read everything after the "real" book ends, an epilog of sorts about the author not being allowed to abridge the sequel bcs Steven King?? Was going to do it?? But there was a bit of this "sequel" included so I read that too.

When my friend, who had leant me the book, asked what I thought, I said I liked it but I didn't understand why the author included all that personal history at the start where he complained about his job and family, it just didn't seem necessary to me and was boring as hell.

My friend informed me that all of that "personal" history wasn't real. The author made it all up. It was as much fiction as the actual story itself. It was satire, you see, and apparently??? very important to read bcs without it you wont "understand" the story. My friend genuinely thought it was super weird that I didn't realize it wasn't true, and also that I didn't like it.

But nah, I thought it was true!! Why would he lie like that?? What was it even satirizing(I still don't really know tbh)?? Why would I need to read all that bs to understand the book?? The story of 'The Princess Bride' made perfect sense on it's own!! I ended up kinda hating the book after that. I felt SUPER betrayed. He said all that stuff like it was true, what on earth was the point of lying?? Didnt he know people would believe him?? Why wouldn't I, after all I almost always tell the truth, lying about all that stuff was dumb and mean and I hated it.

A while later when I brought it up to my godfather he ALSO thought it was silly that I believed all that and didn't get that it was satire, and insisted that it was important for understanding the story.

I still don't get why it's important, and I refuse to read any of it again. When I re-read the book I just skip to where 'The Princess Bride' actually starts and then stop once it's "over". The rest of it is probably important, but to this day I think it's mostly mean spirited and stupid, and idk why he didn't just write the book normally or do what they did in the movie.

Anyway I figure this is like...normal, right? I totally don't have any deeper stuff going on with my brain. When I take assessments I insist I'm great at picking up on sarcasam and satire. Totally great at it. Yeah...

[stupidlanie]

me today + my rockstar focus bc im fucking dying out here.! this shirt is so overworn dude i put it on everytime im overstimulated in the morning bc its my comfort shirt and i wear it like twice a week :P

daily yap my dudz (BE FUCKING WARNED I DID A WHOLE ESSAY HOLY SHIAT)

WHEN WAS MY LAST ONE I DID I DIDNT DO ONE YESTERDAY HUH

oh wait i did it with the photo of my dinner

nvm!!

anyways my friend came back to school today (hes been in mexico with his family all week) and so THE HUZZ COULDNT SIT WITH ME IN SCIENCE. AND THE DESKS GOT MOVED IN FIRST PERIOD SO IM SITTING A WHOLE ONE DESK AWAY FROM HIM INSTEAD OF ACROSS UGHHHH.!! but i talked to him at lunch i guess. it was unsatisfactory.

DAWG HELP I JUST ACCIDENTALLY SHIFT DELETED AN ENTIRE TWO PARAGRAPHS IM GONNA KMS

anyhow his friend knows. IDK HOW BUT HE KNOws.! and he kept asking me about the „guy i like“ LIKE DAWG JUST SAY YOU KNOW. „hey so… does this guy you were talking to () abt happen to like robots ??“ LIKE DAWG YK HE DOES HES FUCKING AUTISTIC AND HYPERFIXATED ON THEM. HE FILLS WHOLE SKETCHBOOKS WITH DRAWINGS OF ROBOTS IN TWO WEEKS, HE PLAYS ROBOT VIDEO GAMES AND ROBOT BOARD GAMES, HE 3D PRINTS LITTLE ROBOTS, HES TRYING TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD HIS OWN, HE DOWNLOADS MODS THAT ADD ROBOTS TO GAMES HE PLAYS ALREADY, AND ALL HIS SOCIAL MEDIA FOR YOU PAGES ARE JUST ROBOTS.

anyways im also fucking autistic and cant control my fucking face for shit so i went „dawg go away“ WHILE DUCKING SMILEING. WHY AM I NOT ALLOWED TO CONTROL MY OWN FACE. KILL MEEEE AHSGAUGSHSHAJSGSJAH. anyways his friend was smiling and said „well i would say who i think it is but he told me not to say his name when i asked you abt it.“. WHAT??? SO I ASKED HIM LIKE „wait WHAT IS HE SAYING ABOUT ME HES TALKING ABOUT ME? HE PUT YOU UP TO tHIS?!“ and he got all backtracked like „WHAT NO WHO SAID THAT I DIDNT SAY ANYTHING ABOUT ANYONE TELLING ME ANYTHING. TOTALLY.“ SO I KNOW HE TOLD HIM. (he also later said the things the guy he thinks/knows im talking abt are all good.!) ANYWAYS IM GONNA SHOOT MYSELF.

ALSO I GOT NEW SHORTS. THEYRE LIKE JORTS AND THEYRE LONG AND I WANNA WEAR MORE MASCULINE CLOTHES SOMETIMES SO IM SO HAPPY!.!.!.!.!!.!!! i like the idea of androdgeny, but i either dress like hyperfeminine or like a twelve year old boy so. like i cant sit in the middle, i have to pick a side. BUT I HATE PANTS, SO I ALWAYS END UP IN SKIRTS AND TINY LIL SHORTS BC I DIDNT HAVE ANY LONGER ONES UNTIL NOW AHHHH!!!!

ive been toying with the idea of fucking with my pronouns a little. like ive always behaved more masculine, and felt kinda masculine, but ive always looked very feminine. i believe gender is a construct so i mean who the fuck cares. i am a human. for the most part. why the fuck do pronouns and shit matter. why cant i just be who i wanna be. and my dad would kill me if i ever used anything other than she/her so i dont really wanna. but if youve read this far, just know i genuinely dont care. call me whatever the fuck you want. i am a human.! maybe. that might just be the autism tho. CALL ME ZERO ZERO ZERO!! CALL ME ZERO YOU ARE ZERO!!!.!.!.!! (in all seriousness i might be a fucking demigirl or gender fluid or some shit and ive wondered about that for a long time BUT AGAIN GENDER IS BULLSHIT AND like i dont really care so just disregard this mini crashout plz!! and call me whatever the fuck you want, even if i keep she/her in my bio)

[bucketspammer4life]

☆ how the boxers were as children ☆

Hey besties, sorry for dissapearing i was busy decaying, enjoy my cringe ass writing

Glass Joe

- Really sleepy & an edgelord, he was the kid that had hair covering the side of his face in middle school

- his parents always said that he wouldnt really be able to take up boxing due to him being a natural coward, jokes on them Joe isnt scared to get hurt (physically)

- loved reading old writing, especially gothic literature, he has a soft spot for dark writing

- wrote cringy edgy poems about every crush he had, his parents sometimes pull them out to torment him

- tried to start his own band, failed miserably

- still attached to his edgelord phase very much

- if he was a teen during the 2000-2010's he def would have a edgy wolf oc and a Deviantart account

Von Kaiser

- sickly victorian child + little german boy hybrid

- his parents always spoke with permission so he also started copying them, leading to him always interrupting people by saying "can i ask something?"

- had that one little german boy outfit, along with the huge ass lollipop and dumb hat, anytime someone pulls out his childhood pictures he prays they dont whip out those photos or he will get bullied recklessly

- NEVER EVER cursed until the wonderful age of 15 when he yelled out the word "fuck" after dropping a wrench on his foot, his dad wasnt even upset he was more concerned because holy fuck his child dropped a wrench on their foot

- got sick really often, he was out here being asked to be taken out into the garden one last time before you all posers

Disco Kid

- that one kid who had a really cool dad that let him do anything as long as he didnt blow up the house

- Really creative, writing up stories with pictures, his grammar wasnt really the best (along with his writing) so his parents had to read "the addventours off the brince" and hold in their laugh

- He was the kid who performed an entire ass dance choreography to get your parents to accept the sleepover invite

- got introduced to Disco music by his dad, got obsessed with it instantly and started dancing everywhere

King Hippo

- ate glue

- never spoke with anyone, Just beat up anyone picking on him and no one messed with him ever since

- people just gave him paper to eat, fresh with colored pencils

- liked to play make believe with his plushies

Piston Hondo

- He let you copy off his homework, i think that tells you enough

- everyone only recognized him for being a smart ass, not being creative and that really upset him

- played chess a whole lot, joined tournaments and won some medals

- academic burnout hit him like a train

- for a while, art and writing was his only escape from stress & pressure, he journaled about his feelings and drew his soul out, due to this he struggled to express his feelings without words

Bear Hugger

- chased everyone around with a spider then ate it, he was so evil for what

- never actually went to school, his parents lived out in the woods and homeschooled him since no one likes walking 2-3 hours straight just to suffer in a seat

- He always had a interest in animals, him and mrs bear go are childhood friends, mrs bear met him when she was a cub, due to this he got spared by mrs bears mom and suddenly had a 2nd mom, once his family realized that their son got adopted by a bear, they kindly let the bears in and treated it like it was normal

- loved fishing with mrs bear, he taught her how to use a rod and she taught him how to catch fish with his bare hands

Great Tiger

- so called "self sufficient" When he was just used to being alone and kinda accepted the fact he'll never have proper friends

- created the most batshit insane scenarios with his clones that would make the average hollywood movie maker shed tears, these gems include: divorce, murder, crime, assault and tea parties

- talked to himself a whole lot to the point where his parents took him to a therapist

- never really made friends, Just made himself his own friend

Don Flamenco

- oh no.

- his dad basically hated him, insulted him a whole lot, made fun of him, literally just made him insecure, when he got the opportunity to escape his dad by boxing, he took it without hesitation and got out of there

- was never really home, he was always out with friends to avoid his dad back at the house

- emotional stability? Who needs that when you can ignore your problems?

- people pleaser no matter what he says

Aran Ryan

- greasy ass bitch

- his parents didnt teach him shit, you think tigers parents didnt care about him? They'll look like helicopter parents next to them when they see what aran has going on

- had bad hygiene, only learned to shower and take care of himself in the 5th grade, thanks to that and his name, my boy got bullied and developed his behavior to defend himself from people

- Always ran from school & home, he had a hide out from away from home and a bit close to school to escape whenever he had the chance, he always dissapeared for a few weeks (sometimes months) and nobody really went looking for him, either from knowing he'll return sometime or they just dont care enough

Soda Popinski

- lonely, him and tiger are the difference between feeling lonely vs being alone, he doesnt handle loneliness well

- grew up with his grandpa & his stories, always loved listening to them and copied him whenever he wanted to tell a story

- never had a proper social life due to having to take care of his grandpa + him getting concerned about soda whenever he was out for too long

- spent most of his time crying from loneliness, away from him

Bald Bull

- precious!!! Was really shy and had a rounder face that everyone in his family pinched like crazy

- extremely sensitive & emotional (he still is hes just bottling it up shh)

- stuttered a lot, think about that one "have you ever had a dream you could you can't you would you you could be anything" kid

- was really short and just shot up one day

- scaredy cat, could be scared from anything, including: bugs, darkness, thunder, needles, sharp stuff, blood, death and alcohol (he also still gets scared easily but shh shut up)

- Always snored in his sleep, inherited it from his dad

Super Macho Man

- obsessed with sharks, dinosaurs, trucks and cars, basically got obsessed with anything he found cool

- his parents spoiled the living fuck out of him, no dime left unspent on him, no quarter spared

- Always lied about having something at the playground, sure Macho i trust the fact that you have "every dinosaurs teeth" 100% never doubted you for a second

- his parents love language was money so it got passed down to him, they were just throwing money at him and fucking off

Mr Sandman

- oldest child in his family, has 4 siblings and loves them all very much, had to help his mom & dad take care of them since they were a handful

- started boxing early so he was never in school that often unless it was 99% neccessary

- slept a lot thanks to him being tired constantly from rushing around

- knows how to do hair & make up from his younger sister

[heyybaejjk]

SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI !

Pairing: teen!miguel o'hara x fem samoan oc

Summary: Miguel loved being within his own space, but he still had three friends that were persistent.

warnings/notes: I haven't read the comics, so its OOC Miguel :( mb gng. not much of reader x miguel just yettt. profanity, awkward moment

series masterlist

Everyone at school loves Multicultural day: The day where students are able to showcase a few variations from their culture, whether it be food, a dance, or a song. The day Multicultural day was announced, students who chose to participate in performing had 3 weeks to come up with something to show on the day.

Miguel loved being within his own space, but he still had three friends that were persistent. Every day since the announcement, his friends in their shared group chat sent a daily reminder to Miguel, and Miguel only, knowing his anti-social ass wouldn't show up unless they annoyed him enough to do so.

(M.Ohara_99) mahi_sniffer has mentioned you in pussy eaterssssss

Miguel groans at his phone in his hand, as he pushes the trolley in front of him even faster, speeding up so his mother that was beside wouldn't see his lit up notification. Swiftly typing with one hand.

mahi_sniffer: @M.Ohara_99 usi, you coming tmr?

M.Ohara_99: David, what the hell have I told you about our group chat name? My mum can see everything you type.

M.Ohara_99: I know what usi means. I've hung out around you idiots to know enough.

mahi_sniffer: mann 😞 it was fun when you were a plastic samoan mig

M.Ohara_99: I'm not Samoan

aluaigioukae: usi is a Tongan word stupid ass

mahi_sniffer: ohh u right

aluaigioukae: HOW DO YK NOT KNOW LOL UR TONGAN URSELF

mahi_sniffer: mb, thats what happens when im around your samoan speaking ass missus too much HAHAHA

aluaigioukae: stfu

mahi_sniffer: ilyt

mahi_sniffer: ANYWAY.

mahi_sniffer: miguel bruh, come tmr pls

M.Ohara_99: no

mahi_sniffer: pls

M.Ohara_99: no

mahi_sniffer: i'll buy you food

M.Ohara_99: no

mahi_sniffer: YOU DIDNT LET ME FINISH MF.

mahi_sniffer: as i was saying 🌝

mahi_sniffer: I'll buy you food for a week, even at our expensive and very overpriced canteen because you're my bestest friend in the world and because kiuga is a dog😞😞😞😞😞😞💔💔💔

aluaigioukae: WHAT DID I DO

M.Ohara_99: okay. see you tomorrow.

mahi_sniffer: IT WOKRED.

aluaigioukae: worked***

mahi_sniffer: fuck uppp, bet ur freshie ass missus can't spell that either

bololicker: can you both stfu

bololicker: @M.Ohara_99 I got you something to wear for tomorrow

M.Ohara_99: Nevermind, I'm not coming.

mahi_sniffer: YOU JUST SAID YES LIKE A WHOLE MINUTE AGO WHAT

Miguel chuckles to himself while smiling at his phone, abruptly coming to a stop when he feels the trolley crash into something. He looks up with widened eyes, seeing a bunch of packets and vegetables on the floor along with a basket.

"U-uh, fuck. I am so, so sorry," He apologizes instantly, shoving his phone into the middle pocket of his jumper loosely, making his way in front of the figure before getting on to his knees and picking everything up, paying no mind to who it was. Mentally cursing at himself as his knees click loudly, wanting to drown himself as he hears a soft giggle. He was grateful that whoever it was couldn't see his face, because his embarrassment grew even more and his face morphed into a little: 0-0. He grabbed everything and placed them neatly back into the basket before getting up and handing them to the person. Only to be face to face with her.

Fuck.

Manaia Fepuleai. The very girl that may have, or may have not piqued Miguel's interest since the very start of senior year. As well as year 11, 10, 9, 8, and 7...

Miguel found himself standing still in his spot like a complete idiot. This very moment was something he planned out as one of those scenarios he thinks of before going sleep. Always thinking of a plan if he ever sees her in public, that being: flirt.

"Hey, it's okay," Manaia smiled with kindness, sending a sense of relief down his body, though, he still couldn't help that little ink of a feeling of wanting to jump off a cliff.

"You okay? Hope my big basket didn't hurt you," she joked simply, covering her mouth with the back of her palm, the other hand holding the basket. Miguel looked back at Manaia dumbfounded. Looking back at the trolley he was previously pushing and the very obviously, smaller basket in her hand.

"Wh- huh?" He looked back awkwardly while she stood there with an uncomfortable silence, as well as an expecting look on her face. He stared at her for a few seconds with a straight face, braincells finally connecting and forming her words together.

"Oh- Ohhh!" "It was a joke."

The both of them spoke at the same time. She's the first one to speak, beating him and his cut-off apology.

This was going to be one of those embarrassing thoughts that makes him unable to sleep at night, indefinitely.

"You're so funny, Miguel," Manaia laughed once again, leaving Miguel unsure whether she was laughing at him thinking he was joking as well, but it didn't matter anymore. The somewhat awkward tension was gone, he thinks.

"So! Tomorrow.. Multicultural day, yaaaayyyyy.." Miguel slowly stretches the words while making jazz hands, smiling widely as she tried her best to contain her laughter.

Oh my fucking gosh, what the fuck am I doing, Miguel thought to himself.

"You're coming this year? Normally you'd skip out. I remember the other years when you wouldn't come."

"I- uh- well, I guess since it's our last year, I see no harm in going, I guess... Never knew you were so observant of me not coming."

Manaia feels her cheeks flush, smiling heavily as she pushes his shoulder playfully. Both smile shyly at each other.

"Shut up! I've got to get going, but I'd be happy to finally see you tomorrow. Me and the rest of the girls are going to be performing tomorrow."

"I'll come!" Miguel responded a bit too quick for his liking. Taking one step back, realising his excitement and awkwardness made them both stand so close. "Sorry. I mean, I'll come tomorrow for sure. If my friends manage to annoy me enough to come." He gives her a sincere smile.

She tilts her head playfully, a sly smile painted on her face, "I thought I'd be reason enough."

Miguel grew quiet, too flustered to hide his bashful smile. "We'll see tomorrow then."

M.Ohara_99 has sent a message to pussy eatersssss

M.Ohara_99: Disregard what I said, I am coming tomorrow.

bololicker: "disregard 🥸☝️"

aluaigioukae: AINGG SAY MUMS SOUL YOU'RE COMINGG

mahi_sniffer: whose ass do i need to eat to give my thanks , my daddy is coming after a whole hundred years 😖😖

M.Ohara_99: No one's. I'll see you all tomorrow.

mahi_sniffer: you reckon it was his missus??? you kno whoooo LOLOLO👀

aluaigioukae: did ms fepuleai finally talk to you into coming to see herrrrrrr

M.Ohara_99 has left the pussy eatersssss

bololicker: LMAO IT WAS, IT FUCKING WAS SEE

aluaigioukae has added M.Ohara_99 into pussy eaterssss

mahi_sniffer: we shall thank your future missus for the wonderful magic she placed on you

bololicker: amen, amen, amen

aluaigioukae: MANAIA 🔛🔝 ‼️ ‼️ ‼️

M.Ohara_99: Of me.

bololicker: OUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

mahi_sniffer: HE UNSENT IT LMAOOO

aluaigioukae: I ALREADY SCREENSHOTTED IT GUYS, DW DW DW

M.Ohara_99: Kefe

next chapter

andddd thats all from me for now!! i actually enjoyed this a lot. dont be afraid to leave a comment :DDD <33

likes, reblogs, a comment and a kind follow are much appreciated 😊💞

[chikkou]

ok i was waiting until my laptop got here to finally tell all the bullshit thats happened in the last like. 5 months lol. cause its a lot to type

im gonna put it all under the cut so no one has to read if they dont want. its a LONG fucking story.

tl;dr:

ok so for basic background, for the last two years or so, i was living with a roommate in connecticut. the roommate was my (now former) best friend since middle school. in july of this year his behavior totally shifted, and he started picking fights with me out of nowhere, told our high school friends a bunch of straight up lies abt me to make me look like a horrible roommate & person, and just generally became a two-faced dickhead. in the end, it turned out to all be excuses to justify his decision to move out (unofficially, name was still on the lease) so that he could live with his boyfriends and not pay any bills. at the time i was really devastated by this bc i felt totally betrayed by this person i had been close to since i was 12/13, but frankly after everything else that happened i barely fucking think about it now LMAO. this is set dressing more than anything else

so anyway, i had been living alone since about august, that was the last time i saw him in person. i wasnt handling the situation well because i had spoken to my high school friend and found out the extent to which hed tried to paint me as a slovenly, horrible roommate, to the point of telling actual lies about really dumb stuff (which didnt work btw - my friends, god bless them, were more concerned about my mental health than anything and thought i was going down a depression spiral, which my former friend told them he was helping me through. they believed me right away once we finally did talk). all that is to say, i was going kind of crazy lol, and i decided to go back home in october just for a short while, to recharge my batteries and all.

i was gone for a couple of weeks, not very long. i felt MUCH better after being with my family & friends in person, as i felt pretty isolated from everyone (my hometown is in new york, i was only 2 hours away by train but scheduling times to visit was sort of a hassle, so i only did it once every couple months). my grandfather and mom dropped me off at my apartment in early november, we were very lighthearted and discussing my next steps, since my shithead friend had been behind on rent more than 5 times (i always paid my half on time) and i was facing eviction because of it. we get to my apartment, i go to open the door, and it wont open. not that its locked, it just straight up WONT open. my grandpa tried to ram the door with his shoulder, and nothing. hes a strong ass dude, and this door wouldnt budge for anything.

my mom managed to get the kitchen window open and climb in that way, and it took both her and my grandpa pulling/pushing at the same time to force the door open. i wont even dress this up: there was mold. fucking. everywhere. on the floor, on the walls, all over everything i owned. i have pictures (had to take them for insurance) and im not even going to show them because they are beyond fucking disgusting. everything i owned was soaked in water and mold, and i do literally mean EVERYTHING. it was very warm in there too, like the temperature of a swamp. i was in a haze after that. i just remember sobbing, like genuinely heartbroken sobbing, as i wandered around looking at everything that was ruined. my mom & grandpa had to go and get maintenance because i was just utterly useless, and they were equally horrified & said they'd never seen anything like it.

i managed to save some items that were irreplaceable (journals, notebooks, etc) and whatever clothes werent utterly soaked in mold. all of my cookware, my books, my laptop & desktop (i cried the hardest when i saw the desktop) - it was all ruined. we found out later that the water boiler in my apartment had a catastrophic failure while i was gone, which caused it to constantly send water back through the pipes, empty, and refill itself. my bedroom was directly above the boiler downstairs, so it got the most significant amount of damage. all told, i lost like 95% of the things i owned. it is possible that i could have saved more, but the amount of mold in that apartment made it a genuine safety hazard for me to even be in there, so i had very limited time to grab what i could. the cruelest irony of all that? my shithead ex-friend's room, which was on the other side of the hallway, was pretty much untouched. he lost absolutely nothing lol.

so immediately, i had to leave the state. i moved back to ny with my family. my mother - who had a stroke last year following a diagnosis of an exceedingly rare neurological disorder, AND had two separate brain surgeries to improve her quality of life - was in the process of getting evicted. the landlord didnt give a fuck about any of my moms situation, not her being disabled, not her being widowed, not her having 3 kids under the age of 18 to care for - he just wanted her out so he could increase the cost of rent on our house. at the same time as all this was going on, i got saddled with a $600 electric bill (likely caused by the water heater's malfunction), which neither insurance nor the apartment would pay, so it came out of my pocket. in addition, i found out in december that i was also getting laid off.

we had nowhere to go and couldnt afford to live anywhere in the tri-state area. we had no choice but to move somewhere much cheaper, and since my mom already had a friend living in a mid-atlantic state, we chose to move there. the eviction went through in january and we had less than 2 weeks to pack all our shit, find a place to live, and get the fuck out. needless to say, we were not successful lol.

we stayed in my grandparents 1 bedroom apartment for about a week, then all of us drove down together to stay with my moms friend in her 3 bedroom apartment (she has 5 kids, 3 of whom live in the apartment). my moms apartment, which was supposed to have been ready by january 31st, still had people actively living there. the property manager kept promising us it would be next week for the entire month of february, to the point that my mom got fed up and chose to rent a small house instead. the reality of being essentially homeless for that time was beyond horrifying, and having anywhere between 8-10 people in that house (my cousin also moved with us, but he stayed in a hotel for the first week) was more taxing than i can express.

but things have gotten a lot better since then. i also found a cute little house to rent just up the road from my moms, and its very cheap for its size. i still havent found a job yet, but thanks to what was essentially the liquidation of everything i owned, ill be ok for a couple months more. im slowly but surely repurchasing all the things i lost and trying to acclimate to the new environment. things are still not totally stable right now, but they are slowing down, and at this point thats all i can really ask for lol.

so yeah. if u were wondering why i suddenly stopped posting after literal years of posting every day, thats why LMAO

[mars-ipan]

okay am back. in jazz band we get almost two hours of only being alloweed to play music so i get a lot of time to zone out and think about things that hurt me

the magazine thing actually scared tf out of mme when i read the uuhh. "he comes home aan d finds the magazine on the kitchen table" i actually went like. 😨. hit me directly in my deep-seated fear of Parents Finding My things and i dont even do anything like tha . if i came home from school and my phone was on the kitchen table with tumblr open id throw up genuinely my worst fear and you made that happen to hajime and i read it with my own orbs. anyway. scary ending. traumatize chsp ending

second option is sad because theres another Whole Guy involved. thats his friend. how does he think about this friend after he leaves like what is his opinion on him does he miss him ?? does he resent him ?/ >?>>>??? whwhat.. let him have his epic gay sex ffs

anyway either option leads to his dad actually beating tf out of him i hate it here. heres a blurry fanart i made of me picking priestmaeda up by the collar of his robes (i didnt remember what they look like) with the full intention of killing him. pencil on sheet music, 2024

hi chisp. sorry for the Feelings but also i’m elated bc that’s exactly what i wanted to capture.

the magazine thing is meant to be that exact sort of fear. when i was closeted i knew my parents wouldn’t hate me (gay aunts make it easier), BUT i had and have friends who are closeted for safety and we both knew that if their parents found their (usually trans) stuff it would get nasty. once in middle school a friend texted me like “my parents found my binder.” and my heart sank so fucking fast. i wanna capture that Dread that Fear. bc it’s one of the most horrifying things i can think of genuinely. on par with being found with anti-fascist theory in an autocracy like it truly feels like Your Life Is Over Now. priest au is lowkey a horror story about how queer folks are abused by society . because making art about that makes me feel a little better. it’s cathartic

as for There’s A Whole Other Guy Involved: hajime leaves the reservoir without ever looking back or saying goodbye to anyone. i think one of the things he regrets most is not making sure his friend would be safe before he left. he knew his dad knew who he was, and i think he regularly worries about whether or not word got out. he’s closed that chapter in his life, but he still finds himself hoping that his best friend is okay. he hopes he wasn’t too hurt when hajime left without saying goodbye. that sort of thing

and oh noooo don’t hurt Father Komaeda…. he’s so sweet he’s so kind and gentle he’s an angel…. he’ll guide us all to the beautiful light of the lord don’t kill him. he’s innocent….

[sleepyhouse2art]

Infodump to me about Jules (if you want) he is my favorite hard core drugs character I think. Well actually it might be Joey. Idk tell me about Jules though

gladly! anytime :)

here are some random assorted facts about jules:

-born in 1934 to rudolph and gillian shaw at mount sinai hospital, nyc

-his middle name is alexander

-his stomach is partially paralyzed, hence the tube. he also has a port in his chest. he can eat a little by mouth, mostly for the taste

-as a child, had a dog named bobby, as well as a black horse named tacitus who his father forced him to shoot when he got sick

-speaks french because he went to a catholic boarding school in chavagnes, france. bizarrely still remembers how to speak it even though he often forgets basic information. his brain is fucking wild

-6'2, 110 lbs. used to be 6'3, but lost an inch of height due to osteoporosis from being forced to take anti-androgens

-owns a jet that he forgets he has

-favorite drink is this fancy brand of lemon soda

-favorite food is cake

-used to be a long-distance runner

-drunk on highballs when his daughter abby came into the world, the duration of which he paced outside in the hall while his wife cecilia did a typical 1950s twilight birth

-only knows one joke outside of straight-up laughing at people who are concerned about his constant medical emergencies (he has the health of a sickly gerbil), and it is "hi hungry! im dad!", only its NOT 'hi hungry! im dad!" its 'hi abby! im dad!' and he thinks its hilarious

-reads at a second-grade level, nonetheless has written two memoirs

-only butterknives in his house, thank you

-heavily addicted to barbiturates since 1956. he is fucked the FUCK up 24/7 and everyone is just like good for you jules. fuck it. let the man live

-extreme old money new york accent. slurs constantly

-left eyeball twitches wildly when hes nervous

-keeps photograph books of handsome g.i.s under a loose tile in his upstairs bathroom; would spontaneously combust if he knew anybody knew about them, which nic definitely does

-has met joey's mom, lillian, multiple times. he and cecilia actually used to go to the moskowitz family's apartment for little dinner parties. so joey knows julian from way back. theyve both seen each other in situations they would rather not. their relationship is pretty complicated

-pays for the very very nice care home in which lillian lives. its in santa clara, which is 45 minutes away from san francisco. julian goes there once a week to see her. joey goes when he can stand it, which often he cant. something really, really bad happened to joeys mom a long time ago, which is why she lives there. it has been vaguely referred to in hard core drugs but we wilkl find out a lot more about it later in the comic

-spent a year alone on the street after the hospital and used to live in a bedroom in back of the pharmacy

-favorite singer is connie francis, favorite movie is meet me in st. louis, favorite season is summer because its green and its the only time hes not freezing, favorite color is literally EVERY COLOR EVER (hes not used to colors bro), favorite actor is tab hunter (purely for aesthetic reasons), favorite fruit is peach

-likes hippies (he calls them "the flower children"; some of these "flower children" picked him up off the highway in a vw bus when he ran away from the hospital), gardening (has to wear gloves because dirt is filthy and DIRTY), music (he didnt hear any for 10 years; he likes especially when eli plays the piano), nice department stores, the san francisco wharf, knitting, windows (very impressed by them)

-hates dogs, his urologist, rock hudson, hospitals (to make an understatement), clothing designed by emilio pucci, the smell of antiseptic, "mess" (i mean like a smudge on a window or a small scrap of tape left over from hanging streamers or a single toast crumb on the counter), occasionally nic (they bicker like a married couple and sometimes jules screams at him and throws shit)

-uses a special type of fancy purple shampoo to keep brassiness out. also, nicotine stains

-speaking of which, smokes three packs a day. gauloises. theyre french cigarettes

-catholic but ambivalent; likes to go to mass because its pretty and likes to confess to the priest because he is literally guilt incarnate

-doesnt understand numbers, cant read a clock, unaware that jfk was shot, not quite up to date on social mores, kind of antisemitic but surrounded by jews (joey and eli)

-really, really, really good at following directions with zero explanation as to why he needs to do the thing

-could sit still for ten or twelve hours in perfect silence and stare at a wall and be totally fine

-laughed genuinely for the first time since 1956 on a lake trip in 1972. yes, his laugh is weird as fuck. no, dont tell him

-his cat, dorothy-dotty, is named after dorothy parker

i have a literally endless amount of julian shaw truefaxxx so uh, you know, feel free to ask whenever lol

if you would like me to infodump to you about joey you can send me another ask sometime, im always down for brainrot hours :))))

thank you!!! this was fun!!! its cool you like my 38 year old son (although in hard core drugs he is 39 because its a year after what is happening in the writing rn)!!!

[hel-phoenyx]

New Year's Eve, part 15 (we're nearing March but shhhhh)

An ongoing story with @corneille-but-not-the-author and @soupedepates

I'm sat at my desk, like every days since forever. Cops don't get sick leav for emotional turmoil now, do they. Would be better if they did. Less sickos in the police.

Not even in the mood to be snarky. Amandine commented on how scarce my witty remarks (well, she called that insults and sarcasm) became, and the new one, Dal, I call him Dal, is looking at me weird. He kinda is the only one I talk to because he's the only one not mentioning this shitty rumor.

Job's getting hard. I have files after files to take care of now that Sigismund's on sick leave, Walpurgis told me that since I was the one patrolling with him the most this days I had to pick up the slack the most efficiently. Ha. Just try to shower me in work, I see you, bastard.

It worked the first few days. Took care of the investigation with the sect, talked with Iekaterina le Patriote, Found some leads, but nothing tangible. Then the work started to die down.

And I had no one to talk through the idle.

I open my Instagram. Hector has a new picture. It's him smiling with a giant hot chocolate (that man always had a sweet tooth), probably sitting on a stool since his head is at the same level as Tyr's. Tyr who is sticking his tongue at the camera with a bored expression, his prosthesis stuck in the middle finger.

He's wearing one of those silly shirts he always had on at some point. This one is saying "Autistic powered fuck machine". Way to give a message.

The caption reads "Since mister @/deepseadragon didnt want to go suit shopping with me I'm taking him out of his man cave to drink and he has no choice. Getting tattoos at my shop after that #diy #ifoneofmycolleaguestrytotouchhimiwillbite #nohiddenmeaningiswear". Hector, my man, you are so not subtle I am surprise he still hasn't realised you crush on him since literal middle school.

Well, this is Tyr we are talking about, are we ?

Something taps on my desk. It's Amandine. She's looking at me with her cold eyes. Again.

"Slacking off ?"

"Shut up."

"Wow. No insults this time. You really are unwell, huh ?"

I snarl.

"Why do you care ?"

Eye roll. What, really ?

"Not everyone is out to get you, Wolffsen."

She leaves with that. Right. Not everyone out to get me. Like I will believe that.

Why am I alone if it's the case ?

My phone rings. Oh, it's Idalia. Saying where I saw her the first time would get me immediate prison, people don't do well with blackblockers. But we kept in touch after that. Got her out of a few situations before Walpurgis thought I got too lenient with her. Saw her ex-wife and kid once, tired woman, scared child. Neither of them liked seeing a cop. Can understand that.

"Hey, my man, haven't seen you in events in a while. U good ?"

Sigh. Don't want to, but I should probably explain myself before I lose my "mole" card to her. She would rat me out to the whole group immediatly and guess who would get beaten up by former comrades, forget about the fact I'm giving them all the intel they need ?

"eeeeeeeh, bad couple of months and too tired to care. Still giving intel when I can dw"

"Yeah, got it. Need to vent ? what about your friend, the blonde giant you told me about ?"

"giving me the cold shoulder. did bullshit."

"Damn, tough. can lend you mine if you want."

That kid in political science that hates cops and right-wing politicians except for the future one he wants to fuck ? Met him on some barricades, didn't like him at all. He has the good ideas and actions but his personnality irates me.

I have a grim laugh. Not a damn chance.

"HA ! no."

"lmao I'm not listening to you. Have my own problems. But yk what, can give you the contact info of my therapist. Zuza says it's good when people are payed to hear your bullshit."

A therapist, huh...

May be a good idea, after all.

ironic I'll be the first Wolffsen to see a therapist. The older brothers would be so pissed. Then again, I am a cop, so even though I bring money on the table, and a good amount with that, they have their syrian pride. Can respect that. Can also respect being a disgrace in their eyes for anything I'll do. Always been singled out anyway.

Alright.

Let's look in searching for a therapist.

Later in the day Hector's second instagram post shows a tattoo design, a dragon curled against a leg, his head resting on the ankle. His professional account shows the same but with effects and without the second slide, a blonde man smiling for the first time since forever.

[amethyinst]

god im thinking gale post war. he's got a kafkaesque middling bureaucrat position on government or perhaps something like 'minister for outreach' or some bs job. mostly there to be the attractive young face of the new government.

his friends are all 40yo rebel leaders turned bureaucrats and posy his 6yo little sister who writes him pen pal letters from district 12 where she is going to school (its an assignment where you write to a pen pal from another district and she was like i pick my brother Comrade Gale Hawthorne Of The Rebellion and the teacher is like well i meant another kid from another district but okay then.)

she's only now learning to write so its mostly little kid stick drawings in her new gel pens he bought her with a note from hazelle asking if he's eating enough and that katniss asked about him. and he reads them crying while getting whiskey drunk at 9pm. and he writes back like hello posy what a lovely drawing tell mummy im doing absolutely fine and please dont bother katniss about me but also is she okay does she talk about me is she happy is she mad please and thank you lovely pen colour by the way.

he is engaged to a female rebel about his age maybe a little older. i have named her evjenny a future dystopia spelling of yevgenia russian form of eugenia meaning 'good breeding'. because its funny to me for him to go full bolshevik. she's from district 5 a slightly wealthier district in comparison to the outliers like 10, 11, 12. she's a little uptight, very type-a, respects gale, loves the state, believes in black-and-white justice. thinks katniss is mostly a propaganda creation and that she's a little weepy but good for morale. has a pet bird she is wanting to teach human language to.

vaguely know each other from the little inter-district rebel communications that coin allowed. coin off-handedly mentioned that she respected her so when The Powers That Be were arranging propaganda couples to marry (they didnt call it that ofc) he was like yeah okay she seems fine.

meet each other at panem galas that are about like fostering relations between the districts. TPTB are like ah gale this is evjenny you are attractive young people you should chat. we did not plan this we did not have several meetings planning this. they bond over hating all the former capitol turned rebel folks.

evjenny (evjen for short, she says, because it is efficient) mentions that she enjoyed gale more than katniss in the propos because gale was an 'actual working man' as opposed to katniss (who is the equivalent of a kardashian to her). and gale is like. Eye twitch. thank you. i enjoyed when you organised that power plant to get blown up and she goes thank you it did take a lot of work. she is not joking she's just a very serious person. they go on like five 'dates' (paparazzi outings) and they agree to marry with a handshake three months after meeting. (there is a more official ceremony where evjen pops the question on tv with a sensible steel ring)

their marriage is like an absolute flop cos gale has a drinking problem and evjen is like if a robot was a 15yo girl and that 15yo girl got parentified because the russian revolution happened. she's not even like jealous about katniss at first until it becomes insanely obvious that gale has like deified / villainised katniss in his head not even deliberately she just represents the past/future he can never have. so evjen is like okay but why cant you just repress it better why are you making it my problem? this is not important we are literally rebuilding a government and you are getting winedrunk over your childhood situationship Man Up.

they have a daughter the first year of marriage who plutarch wanted to name peace but he got outvoted and they (evjen and gale but also The Powers That Be) settled on pax. gale calls her sweetpea :) pax hawthorne is kind of a child star from birth which evjen is fine with cos its for The Greater Good but gale is like. This Is What They Did To Katniss. but he cant say that because he banned all mentions of her.

after a few years of fail marriage they choose to get pregnant again to try and save it (BAD IDEA) and they have another daughter. The Naming Committee was a nine month process all the way till the fuckn day of childbirth. they wanted something evocative of olive branch imagery. olivia was considered but they vetoed it cos it sounded too capitol (plutarch was miffed about it and left that committee) then olive but since that's the skin colour they vetoed that too even though gale liked it. eventually went with dove :) because gale has apparently not had enough damn birds in his life

i think they do divorce once an appropriate amount of time has passed where its not bad optics. gale 3Ds (drunk, divorced, dilf) is very important to me. anyway this post is long enough my bad

[kebarney]

Which BLLK character are you?

to be so serious i actually dont know and i havent thought about it that much until now

HOWEVER i think maybe chigiri. he reminds me too much of myself to the point that when i started watching/reading bllk i hated him and ive noticed that whenever i hate a character they end up being a lil similar to me </3 I DONT HATE HIM ANYMORE THO

in his backstory he was really cocky and looked down on anyone that like annoyed him (I THINK) and when he tore his acl he started losing his whole persona of "haha im better than all of you!!!" with the wanima brothers being total bums + how he was scared to play football and losing who he is.

back in middle school (idk the exact timestamp) i used to think i was better than everyone at art. with how my classmates and teachers would be like "omg youre so good at drawing!!" i was lowkey an ass about it HELP. there was this art competition going on in my school and obviously i participated but there was this one new guy who was also really good and i ended up losing second to him </3 THEN EVERY SINGLE ART COMP AFTER THAT I LOST TO HIM EVERY SINGLE TIME. ppl started saying his art was better than mines and such so i started thinking that anything i made just wasnt good enough. but since i practically made it my entire personality i was like "i cant give up this quickly!!!" and then a few months later just gave up on doing anything because everyone's words were getting into my head. ever since then i just havent picked up a pencil and im 100% sure i have forgotten how to draw anything. obviously this story isnt that exact to chigiri's but close enough gang..! the only key difference is that he actually got to overcome his injury and i just gave up HELP dw guys art comeback soon!!! (ive been saying this for 3 years)

OH AND my friends also say that i have soft healthy hair somehow and the ends of my hair are actually dyed a pinkish red rn so thats that LMAO

i asked one of my friends which character id be and he said id be kunigami because "hes like desperate for a spot" ?? idk how he thought this but i just wanted to throw that in here as well

SORRY i didnt think i was gonna rant this much but ermermerm whatever i liked this question thabk you suo