#i wrote most of this at work

[chyuyuuz]

I finished my first prompt for the SVSSSAction Gotcha For Gaza! This work is for Otno ^-^

I hope you enjoy!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[irate-iguana]

We need more weird historian rep in Doctor Who. The companions are too normal when faced with the prospect of time travel. I want a companion who makes a list of super specific historical destinations related to their dissertation. I want somebody whose first reaction to finding out that the Doctor is a time travelling alien is to create a Microsoft Word document and ask, “What caused the Late Bronze Age collapse?”

[feelo-fick]

it can't be too hard right?

it's easy not to think about things, he tells me i don't think all the time! wait...

—

a scene from a fic that i have no clue if ill finish, let alone post, but look i made fanart of my own thing that doesnt even exist :D

[sforzesco]

it's time for spartacus :)

[bluerosefox]

"Daddy! Mommy's is having Ellie!"

Everyone in the Batfam knows Jason keeps secrets.

Secrets he'd take to his grave a second time if he had to.

But to think one of those secrets would be about the fact he had a secret family.

And the only reason the Batfam found out was because apparently their secret (grand)daughter/sister-in-law Jazz/Jasmine was in labor and their (great)grandson/nephews Danny (Daniel) and Dan (Dante) called him while on a Red Hood job with the rest of the Batfam to panicky tell him their baby sister Ellie was on the way early.

Red Hood books it away from the fam to his bike while asking to put Kori or Roy on the phone.

Oh boy.

[bixels]

The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.

[milfzatannaz]

lamentation of the goth girl

[fluentisonus]

working in a factory has you thinking so much about the insane chain of labor & transport that goes into making literally anything

[shiongenkai]

Ghouls as Retail Workers Headcanon

If I have to work retail hell, so do they!!!! I kinda imagined they'd work at like. a retail chain. I dont know. Imagine a Walmart. If you don't have a Walmart where you live. Imagine what you would describe as Retail Hell.

This is an incredibly stupid post on how I think they'd survive working a retail job off campus. This certainly applies to on campus jobs too though. Please don't take any of this seriously.

Frostheim

If you ignore the fact that none of them (with the exception of like, Kaito? Maybe?) would ever need to work retail to begin with, you will discover that most of them do not have the constitution and social moxxy to survive in retail anyway.

Jin

I think we all need to be honest here. He'd be dogshit at it. He's the coworker who acts like the manager even if he's not, and he's terrible with customers and other employees. You could not rely on him to cover your shift, but you can always rely on him calling out and requiring you to come in on your day off. Absolute retail bastard. 1/10 but only because if a customer gives you shit, he'll defend you and take the heat for it. You win one, lose every other one.

Tohma

Out of everyone in Frostheim I think Tohma is the only one who could possibly win at retail. He's got it all. Perfect model employee. Literally the Company's Dream which means he's every employee's nightmare. But it's fine. He's dependable and never calls out, and he's good with the customers, even if his stocking is lacking. Born to cashier. Forced to be rich. Would be perfect but customers find him minorly off-putting. 9/10

Kaito

He would be good at it but you get the constant impression he's one bad customer away from a mental break. And it's sad. watching a shaking chihuahua tell someone you're out of stock of something and there's none in the back. And he'd probably hate it all too, and try to flirt with the women, and it'd just be best for everyone if he seeks other employment opportunities. Let it be known to everyone though that he was the best informed on trends and was best at figuring out what people wanted though. Solid 8/10

Luca

You want to root for him so bad, which is why it's so sad when he's fired. He's not bad at his job! He's diligent and does tasks perfectly. But he's terrible on the customer side, because he jumps to too many conclusions and gets into too many tiffs with shoplifters. He's also constantly asking for the manager and holding up lines and interfering with others. Nightmare. But he's so likeable.... but also he catches you taking 20 minutes instead of 15 for your break and he tells your manager on you so you do kinda resent him for that. 6/10

Vagastrom

Born to be freight forced to be freight. Leo is the exception. He's Vagastrom's pretty little princess who could do it if he wanted to but he doesn't want to. SOMEONE has to be the floor man in this house...

Alan

He would be banger at unloading freight and stocking shelves but the moment you ask him to talk to a customer or do register it's all over. He's basically that one coworker you Heard works there but you never see because he's always on truck and awake at like. 4 am. and not ever on the floor. And it's for the best really, because he'd be too awkward and silent and the energy of the store would become strange real quickly. One time he goes in on his day off to shop and a customer reports him to management for being a 'suspicious person' and he thinks about that every time he clocks in from then on. 6/10.

Leo

Hot Take but I think he'd be fine. Like I think he'd be good at it even. He would definitely one hundred percent quit, but while he's there he becomes the store favorite. Workers love him. Customers love him. Management loves him. The only people who don't love him are customers that annoyed him and the one bitch coworker everyone hates and that's because he's a demon to them in private and nobody believes them. He's so good at being dead inside levels of cheerful. 7/10 because after he quits you'll realize he's made you do like all of his work the entire time and that'd piss you off.

Sho

Okay. Okay. He'd be fine. But his constitution is that of a food service worker. And though food service workers are our brothers in arms our battles are different beasts and he would not understand the retail one. I still think he'd be solid, genuinely an average worker, but I don't think he'd last long at all. It's just Different. He can handle people being bitches but Stupid Bitches make his head hurt too much. Not worth it. He'll never go back again, and you will miss him despite his average-ness. The freight team mourns him every day. 5/10

Jabberwock

Despite statistics saying Jabberwock has an incredible retail worker value it should be known that Haru 'Freak of Nature' Sagara is an exception and should not be counted. It should also be noted that I would pay to put Ren and Towa in a Walmart and watch them do their jobs.

Haru

Haru Sagara was born in a shitty retail store and he will die in a shitty retail store and the store will die with him. And from his ashes another store will rise again. I cannot express enough how much this man exudes 'Made in the retail store clone lab' vibes. You would see him in the store and you would squint and think of a time where he didn't work and find none. He picks up all the extra shifts. He never calls out. He knows where everything is all the time. He's great with customers and great at upselling. He is perfect except for the fact that making everyone else look really bad in comparison. Because he's a freak of nature. Everyone would resent him a little (including managers and other employees) but he's too valuable to get rid of. There's a rumor he sleeps in the store. It may very well be true. 11/10 please get help.

Towa

Good news. He's a body that can be put on the schedule. Bad news. That's probably about all you can count on. I cannot express how bad he would be as a coworker. I do not envy the man who has to get him to do work he doesn't want to do at times he doesn't want to work. You could not count on him to do shit unless he likes you, and even then he is still prone to his own whims. Terrible with customers for the most part. By and large he's loved to bits but he's also.... Towa. Could you imagine encountering Towa at a store? Genuinely and truly? What would you do. What could you do? 2/10 because evening shifts are marginally better but not by much

Ren

Great news is that he's better than Towa. Terrible news is that he definitely wants to die the entire time and he makes sure everyone knows it. He would be okay on stocking and okay on register but he would never last long. He will miss the diner every day of his life and he'll quit suddenly and without notice. At the very least, he'd probably never call out. He may even pick up a shift or two, but it'll be unpleasant for most everyone involved. He'd probably find stocking fun but the moment someone comes to talk to him it's ruined. They'd ask him to do freight and he'd claim it's harassment. 4/10

Sinostra

A casino is not retail and these men will never in a million years survive the winter. I want to put them all on shift on Black Friday and watch as everything burns to the ground forever.

Taiga

I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me that he would not be fired literally immediately for no call no showing every single shift for like. a week and a half. You cannot get a hold of him. He shows up one time for a shift, does the shittiest job imaginable, and then is never seen again. He definitely shoplifted something but you don't know what. He ate someone's lunch in the break room. He is banned for life and nobody is sure how he got in in the first place. Absolutely the worst possible employee imaginable. It is a wonder he ever got hired in the first place. 0/10

Romeo

He does not pass the background check but if he did I think he'd be a great worker. I think he'd be really good at it even if he hated it. I think he'd be so scarily good at it he would become manager and everyone would quit because they hate him. Unfortunately I feel like he'd never stay long enough for that to happen, because he'd get so mad on his first day at all the customers and coworkers that he'd throw something at someone and be fired on the spot. And honestly it would probably have been deserved. But retail hell is unforgiving and Fico is not fit to survive. 8/10 I'd throw something too. I forgive him.

Ritsu

He's the worlds most average retail worker alive. Because on one hand he is worker's rights advocate king. But on the other hand he is so By The Letter Rules that if you take too long on your break or do something incorrectly as per the manual (but easier and better as per experience) he'll flip his shit on you. So everyone really wants to hate him but he calls the boss out the same way he calls everyone else out. So they can't hate him. But they can. So bad. He'd also never pick up your shifts unless you did something for him in return and it's annoying as all hell. He could never be fired bc he'd definitely sue the shit out of the company. But I can't imagine he'd ever quit either. He is retail hell and retail heaven. And for that. 5/10

Hotarubi

These poor, poor souls, who are not built for retail but are built like people who are forced to do it anyway. They could all survive. They could. But at what cost.

Subaru

Okay, he's fine. He's fine but he's so nervous all the time, and he's constantly asking for manager approval, and if he ever gets a promotion he'll be like let me ask the boss for approval (nervous smile) and everyone will be like YOU ARE THE BOSS... but it's okay. He's a good floor man and customers adore him. He cannot do register but they forgive him for that. Shifts exhaust him so bad he can't do anything else that day. But he'd probably come in if you need him. 9/10 please quit.

Haku

Haku is fascinating because he would both be The Best Ever and The Worst Ever. Unlike Ritsu who is a black hole of retail wherein nobody ever escapes, Haku is like a merciful assistant of divinity who does his job properly and quickly and without much outward complaint, but on breaks he's always insistent he can't do anything, and even though he'd help if you asked, he exudes an aura telling you not to ask. He's good. He'd want to quit pretty quickly though. He probably would quit pretty quickly! And it would be a tragic parting, but one you have all made peace with. 9/10 take subaru with you

Zenji

Ghosts are bad at retail. Hope this helps. ... Kidding. Mostly. Zenji would be a demon. He would be really good at the people portion of it, I guess, like chatting with customers and helping them find what they need. But he's loud, for one, and nosy, for two, and if you put him on register he'll get through 1 customer every 10 minutes because he needs to make everyone a song based on their products they're buying. So he's terrible. He's really so bad. But he's the moodmaker of the store and everyone is afraid that if you fire him every employee will drop dead from despair Immediately. So he lives on. Forever. 6/10

Obscuary

Obscuary is perhaps the funniest one to imagine in a retail store. I need you to sit and imagine what it would be like if you walked into Walmart or something and the workers you see are Ed, Rui, and Lyca. Think not as a fan of those characters. Think solely as a customer in this random retail store. Think about it for a long time.

Edward

I think he would last less time than Taiga, which is an achievement we should all celebrate. I don't know how he'd ever get hired, ever. At all. Even once. His background check would never pass. He would never get to the interview. He would never go to the store in general. All around a terrible idea, but if by some miracle he is hired, I cannot fathom what he would do. He was born to sit in the breakroom and eat everyone's snacks. He would not stock shelves well. He would not clean up the store. He would be the Worst cashier. If you put him on freight his old man bones would break and turn into dust and you would discover a brand new way to kill vampires that gothic romance novels will write about for centuries to come. Sorry old man. Your time has come. 0/10

Rui

He would be good at it but he personally would hate it so much you'd wonder if it was even worth it. Great with customers, great at checking things out quickly on register. He could probably do freight if you asked but he wouldn't prefer it. Only problem is that there's so many people and so many times where people will bump into him that he'll need like, a hazmat suit. And that's not part of the uniform. So he'd probably quit, or never get in the door to begin with, because it's so not worth it. Mass murder should be kept as inside thoughts as an employee, and he does not, in fact, want to live the dream. 8/10 in heart, 0/10 in reality

Lyca

Store pet....... Lyca would be fine. He's basically like, your youngest coworker who is really, really trying, and they're not good at their job, and they're super combative with customers, but they're so cute! So cute!! And most customers agree with that, even if they still leave complaints. He'd try his best with shelves and be bad. He'd try his best at register and be bad. He'd be good at freight for sure but he'd always insist on shifts during the day so he could get more human skills. And you can't fault him for trying. But you can fault him for being bad at the job and causing more problems than what it's worth. 4/10 if you put him on shift with Subaru

Mortkranken

We've done it. We've found the worst dorm to put in a retail environment imaginable. It is a good thing that they have a niche, because if their funding goes down, it will be a terrible, terrible day for Mortkranken. May your money never run out and may you always have advil on hand if it doesn't.

Yuri

This poor, poor man. He just can't do it. He just couldn't. More specifically, he wouldn't. It'd be a nightmare for him, constantly, forever. Sho could deal with stupid people to a certain degree, but the first time someone comes up to Yuri with a candle marked $4.99 and asks how much this candle is, Yuri will instantly pass away. He can't do it. He won't do it!! And that's fair, honestly. He'd be good at putting things where they belong. He'd be okay at cleaning up. He'd be bad on register and even worse on freight. Retail has introduced him into the field of lobotomies. 3/10

Jiro

Marginally better than Yuri because he would be good with helping with freight, but retail is unkind to people with chronic illness and he would not make it through his shifts most of the time. He is off-putting to customers and would not be allowed on the floor or register, and though the freight team would adore him, the bosses would like his output to be better. If Yuri can figure out a way to get him through his full shifts, they're golden. Until then, they are unemployed. 5/10 to retail, 10/10 to the truck team.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Average historian denies all gay relationships statistic false!

No-Lesbians Ruth Franklin, who lives in an archive and denies any possible sapphic interpretation of Shirley Jackson’s work 50 times a day, is an outlier adn should not be counted

[atlaswav]

ACE! ➷

INFO: 3246 words, oikawa x fem! reader, olympics au, timeskip SYNOPSIS: In the heat of the competition, you find more enemies in the Olympic dining hall, rivalling for the last infamous chocolate muffin, the social media sensation. WARNINGS: none. AUTHOR'S NOTE: i wrote this ages ago when the Olympics were still happening and just finished it so uh....... ANYWAY!!! this is my attempt at a crackfic because it makes sense. Writing quality and pacing may be off sorry BUT IT COUNTS RIGHT watch this flop because the haikyuu fandom is dead

There are few things left in this world that still hold unequivocal beauty. Few things can exist with such suffering and turmoil. Few things, too, could quell this hopelessness, and in sleepless nights, scrolling on your phone with blue light illuminating the room in eerie shadow, you’d come to see the legendary Olympic chocolate muffin as one of these beautiful things.

The night was quiet, and the dining hall was almost empty as you walked up to the dessert stand. 

There was one muffin left,  molten chocolate glowing under the warm lamplight, oozing with liquid bliss, illuminated in a halo of gold.

But where there is beauty, there is also ugliness. There was someone in the way of your pursuit of enlightenment. You could only dream of the bliss of sweet chocolate ganache dissolving on your tongue with angelic grace, only imagine the taste it would leave lingering in your mouth. But now – as womankind may always find – there was a man in your way.

“Excuse me.”

“Huh?”

As he turns around, your heart drops into your stomach. The giant of a man lays his hands on the muffin in front of you. All hope you had for humanity diminished in one touch. 

“...that was mine.” you mumble. 

The shuffling of sandals on the ground echoes through the empty dining hall. His gaze awkwardly flits between you and the muffin. 

“...Sorry? Finders keepers??” He replies in the same language – almost perfect English. He shrugs. A giant movement. He was taller than you’d have liked, towering over you as you attempted to argue for custody of the muffin.  It didn’t help that his dark brown eyes seemed to glint with challenge, and you felt yourself indignantly rise up to this unspoken provocation.

“What happened to chivalry?”

“Guess its dead, sweet heart.”

“You’re not even gonna attempt to be a gentleman?”

“You’re not ladylike, so I won’t be a gentleman.”

“So you’re admitting you’re a douche.”

“At least I’m a douche with a muffin.”

You sigh dejectedly. First, your first loss in the preliminary games – crushing, really, losing by two points – second, the massive specimen of a man standing in front of you with his hands on your consolation prize.

This was going to be your last straw.

Well, at least the asshole was handsome. The ‘Argentina’ scribed on his uniform, however, didn’t make sense. He looked Asian, and yet he spoke English fluently. He was confusing, but one thing you knew for sure was that all those guys on the Argentinian men’s team were jerks, based on the few of them that snickered at your team as you exited the stadium following your loss in the prelims. 

“Fuck you. I hope you lose your next match.”

“Oh–”

You storm away before he can get another word in.

This was your first encounter with Tōru Oikawa. Maybe an overreaction, but you really didn’t care.

The following day, your warmup is interrupted as the Argentinian men's team decide to enter your warmup stadium, raucous and impossible to miss. 

“Do they have the wrong court, or something?” your coach murmurs, tearing his attention away from the practice game. 

“Oh! It’s you!” a distinctive voice calls. 

You turn from your rally – a mistake – and see the handsome thief from the day before staring at you, carrying a sports bag, wearing a light blue jacket with a white stripe down the sleeve. So he was an Argentinian player. Why was he here, though?

“Wait! Ball!”

You turn back to your rally just in time to get hit in the face with a volleyball, nose aching, eyes bleary with tears, reality tilting on its axis as you fall on your hands.

“Hey! What are you guys doing here?” the coach yells, distinct through the cacophony.

“This is our court, isn’t it?” the thief says. His voice is smooth like honey – like a liar. 

“No, It’s ours until noon.” 

“Is it not a quarter to noon?” 

“Exactly, so get out. You’ve already injured one of my star players.” He swears in Japanese, and you hear the thief snicker, saying something back. Is he Japanese?

You don’t know what happens next, except being hoisted up, braced on someone’s arms and being sat on a bench. Someone hands you a tissue for your watering eyes, and you feel a biting cold on your nose, wincing as someone gives you an ice pack to hold to your face. 

“I always hated those Argentinian volleyball players. So cocky.” your teammate says. 

“Their captain is a handful. I wouldn’t want that bastard on the Japanese team either.” your coach echoes. 

So he was their captain. And Japanese. And an asshole.

How dare he? 

This is how you, in your head, earn the right to one of Oikawa’s apologies – how you find him in the cafeteria once again, nose lightly bandaged, lined up for dinner, and are intent on getting a “sorry” from his perpetually smiling lips. 

“Oh, you.”

His lips twitch into a half grimace, half smile. “Me.”

“Are you going to apologise?”

“I – for what?”

“Are you being stupid, or an asshole right now?”

“Neither. I don’t see what I need to apologise for.”

You mutter something under your breath about “Stupid, hot Argentinian volleyball players.” 

“What was that?”

“Move up. You’re holding up the line.”

He shuffles forward, but turns around again to continue your exchange. “It’s not my fault you were too slow.”

“Which incident are you talking about? The muffin, or today?”

“The muffin, obviously. What, like it's my fault you lost concentration?”

“Mother–”

“Hey, can you guys quit arguing and move along? You’re holding everyone up.”

You both shut up and collect your dinner, parting with scalding glances toward each other. 

“...you okay?”

“Does it look like it?”

“Is it that Argentinian captain again?”

You groan, stabbing your lukewarm mashed potatoes with your spoon. “I hate him.”

Your teammate casts you a sidelong glance. “Okay, whatever you say.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Your third encounter with the Argentinian captain is when you file into the stadium, teeming with people decked out in red and white, to watch a preliminary game of the Japanese men’s team – your competing country. You’d been scouted for their women's team, but you were never able to witness the men’s team in action, only heard about their strengths. 

“What the hell?” 

You turn, and behind you is Oikawa. He wears a cap with a sports logo on it, and sunglasses that are almost comically large. You find it within yourself to resist a howling laugh. 

“What? Why are you here?” you ask – slightly too loudly, as people cast their attention toward you. He shrinks down in his seat in embarrassment. 

“I’m scouting the enemy, of course. What, are you stalking me or something?” he mumbles, glaring at you past the rims of his sunglasses. 

You scoff. “Of course not. I’m watching my country play, obviously.”

“Really? You’re Japanese?”

“I’m a citizen. Aren’t you?”

He crosses his arms, huffing. “And I thought I’d tanned when I was in Brazil.”

You scoff at his childishness. “Brazil? Why aren’t you playing for Japan?”

“I need to crush them.”

You let out a barking laugh at his antics. “Really? You have vendettas that need fulfilling?”

“Don’t laugh, you’re drawing attention.” he sighs, leaning forward as if passing on some great generational secret. “But yes. I do.”

“I can’t begin to imagine who could ever be your enemy.”

“Well I sure can.”

This man has to be a social experiment. “That was sarcasm, captain.”

He pouts, and you turn straight ahead for the national anthems to play and the first serve. 

The first server is the Japanese setter, Kageyama. The stadium’s volume seems to drop slightly as he prepares to serve, making the impact of the ball with his hand even louder than it would’ve been. The ball hits the other team with frightening speed, ricocheting from their libero’s arms into the spectator’s stands. 

The Japanese supporters begin to cheer, and you applaud with them, before you hear a scoff from behind you. 

“What, is he one of the guys you need revenge on, or something?”

He turns away, but you see his pout. 

You laugh. “Afraid he’s better than you?”

“Of course not. I’m better.”

“Hey, you know what, why don’t we switch seats?” Oikawa’s teammate suggests from beside him. The captain looks completely betrayed at his teammate’s suggestion, but he can’t rebuke before the teammate gets up, crossing the stands. 

You decide it’d be fun to mess with him, so you comply. 

But you don’t forget that he owes you an apology. Two. You’re not growing fond of him, either. 

The crowd erupts into cheers as Japan scores another point, and you applaud with them, but Oikawa only sinks further into his seat – now beside you – narrowing his eyes and lowering his sunglasses on his nose, only to glare at the court. 

“What?”

“I hate that guy.”

“Who?”

“The one who just scored.”

“...Ushijima? Why?” 

“I hate him.”

“...sure you do. Should I ask who else you hate, or will we be here all day?”

He ends up listing every wrong Ushijima had done to him since middle school, going on an angry rant about how he failed to bring his high school team to victory because of Kageyama. You can see his inferiority complex showing by the end of this. By the end, the game had reached the second set that Japan was also about to win. 

“...Okay, wow, a lot to process.”

“So yes, I have a vendetta. Thought you should know.”

“That was a really big dump on some stranger you haven’t even known for a week.”

“You asked.”

“No, not really.”

He rolls his eyes, and you both go back to watching the game. What you don’t realise is that he’s smiling. 

And despite himself, he is clutching the edge of his seat as Japan gets to the game point in the third set, locked in a deuce with their opponents. The score climbs higher and higher, neither team willing to let up. 

“Oh my God, I’m going to throw up.” you groan, watching the next server prepare. 

“Want a throwup bag?”

“You look like you could use one too.”

“I’m not nervous, unlike you.”

“I can see the sweat on your shorts. You’re not subtle when you wipe your hands on them.”

“Damn you–”

“Shut up, they just served.”

Maybe it's the adrenaline running high from the match, or from the ceaseless energy of the spectators, but you both nearly cry in relief when Japan finally pulls away from the deuce, securing the game. Despite his grudge for the entire Japanese team, it seems, he pulls you into a side embrace as you both cheer. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be ‘scouting the enemy’?” you say through laughter. 

“I am. This is all a disguise.”

You roll your eyes, but as you begin to file out of the stadium with the rest of the stadium, he decides to linger, signalling to a man on the Japanese team – tall, muscular, handsome, spiky brown hair.

“Really? Leaving just like that?”

“I have a friend on that team.”

“You?” 

“Shut up.”

You shrug, smiling as you turn to leave. “Bye then, muffin thief.”

“That’s Toru Oikawa, to you.” 

“Muffin thief,” you call over your shoulder as you disappear into the crowd. 

“Oikawa.” 

“Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi’s eye twitches, but he grins nonetheless, pulling Oikawa into a hug. “Was that your girlfriend?”

“What? Huh? Really? Is that the first question you ask me after so many years?”

“Nah, she probably isn’t. She’s too pretty for you.”

“Mean.”

But nothing had changed, and he was grateful. 

It’s only late into the night with the fan whirring beside his bed that he can’t help but think about the prospect of you as his girlfriend. He was truly delusional. Especially since he somehow reached the conclusion that he wouldn’t mind it if you just so happened to fall to his charms and confess his love. He’d expect that much, at least.

You barely remember your fourth encounter, but it’s during your final game of the preliminary matches – the one that you have to win, else be cut from the competition. 

You could think of no moment more stressful than serving at a time when you were at game point for the fifth time, and your opponents were creeping up behind you, waiting to snatch the game from you with one mistake. 

It was deafening, the way the spectators roared as you prepared to serve. 

You wished they’d all go quiet. 

The whistle blew, and you let your serve fly, watching as it barely skimmed the net, landing in their court just short of the metre line. 

Your teammates cheer, patting you on the back, but you don’t hear them. 

This is when your coach calls a time out. 

You stand to the side, breathing deeply, the air thick with noise and sweat and air so hot it becomes suffocating around your skin. 

Distantly, the buzzer sounds for the end of time out, and you return to the service line, drowning your thoughts in the noise. 

“Don’t lose concentration!” you hear from the stands behind you. Despite it all, you turn around, searching for the heckler. 

Oikawa sits in the row closest to the front, having lost the cap and sunglasses, waving his arms like a madman. 

“What the fuck,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Look closely!”

“I’m losing concentration because of you, you absolute –”

Then the whistle blows for you to serve, and you abruptly turn back to the game, the insult dying on your tongue. 

What did he mean by ‘pay attention’? He’d just broken the laser focus you were in, and now you didn’t know where you were going to serve. 

Except, there was a massive hole in the opponent’s defence. 

They were now accustomed to your short serves that just landed within the metre line. 

You make a mental note to thank Oikawa if your serve went in, and slam your serve so hard that their defence has no time to register the change. 

Your serve lands on the line, nearly out of bounds. 

Your team sighs in relief, finally pulling ahead of the deuce, securing the match. 

“Japan takes the win! That’s their star player for you, landing service aces all across the court!”

“I told you!” you hear from behind again. 

You turn around, meeting his eyes. 

His smile is endearing. Dimples, and his nose slightly scrunched. It’s contagious. 

You smile back, waving, then become crushed underneath the weight of your team as they jump onto you, screaming and laughing and crying. 

He helped you make it to the finals, and somehow, it was better than an apology. 

The fifth time you meet – and one of the last – you’re, once again, in the cafeteria, craving molten bliss in the form of one of those chocolate muffins. You hope the Gods have heard your prayers, and that there would still be some left, even at this late hour. 

“Oh, you’re here?”

“Yeah, why are you?”

“Is that the first thing you wanna say to me?”

“...yes, why would it be any other way?”

He smiles, rubbing the back of his head. Averting your eyes. “Muffin?”

“Huh?”

“This was the last one.”

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

“What have you done with Oikawa? This isn’t the whiny, vengeful guy I know.”

“And you’ve known me for, what, a week?”

You shrug, snatching the muffin from his hands before he changes his mind. “Thanks.”

He sighs. Sits down at one of the tables. You follow suit. 

“So, why Argentina?”

“Really?”

“What? It’s awkward with silence.”

“...I looked up to Jose Blanco.”

“That’s surprisingly sweet.”

“Hey, I can be sweet.”

“I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about the muffin.”

“..Oh.”

“Sorry. You’re alright too, I guess.”

He pouts, but you can’t care less as you bite into the muffin, savouring the chocolate as it melts onto your tongue. 

“Thanks, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“For today. Game point.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Shut up and take my thanks.”

“Alright, fine, fine.” He tilts his head, watching you with his sharp eyes. “You didn’t need my help though. You were good enough on your own.”

“Thanks.”

Quiet lapses in the empty dining hall as you sit, the rows and rows of chairs and tables almost eerie in the dark. 

“Well, I’m going to bed. Too tired after today.”

“Rest up, you deserve it.”

“Seriously, you need to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“This niceness. It’s off putting.”

“I can be nice.”

“No, you can’t. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Fine, I won’t.”

“...right. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

The night carries a chill in it, a cold bliss as the breeze brushes against your skin. Nostalgic, with the moonlight’s glow. 

Oikawa regretted many things. Many of those included not working hard enough, not being fast enough, not being strong enough, but that night, he regretted his cowardice. 

The sixth and final time you meet is after his finals game. You barely see each other after your late night encounter at the dining hall, and you’re both too busy with training now that you’d both qualified. After being knocked out of the competition in the running for second place and barely winning your third place match, your team is exhausted, and your spirits are still high. 

The air of the Olympic village is thick with lethargy and simultaneously the buzz of relief and excitement, cheering echoing across courtyards and buildings. You mill about the front entrance, watching people come and go, waiting for him. You don’t know why, but you feel obligated to congratulate him, your heart still spiralling with the spirit of the stadium. 

You vividly recall his plays, the way he moved as if the world made space for him, the efficacy of his movements and the focus in his eyes that had Japan by the neck. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

“It’s me.”

“Did you watch my game?”

“I did. Congrats.”

He smiles, and your heart melts a little. “Thanks.”

You smile back, and quiet fills the space between you once again. 

“Are you staying in Japan for a bit after the games?”

“I’m planning to.”

“That’s good.”

“Are you? I mean, you live here, but–yeah. We should play together”

“What?”

“I could set for you?”

You burst out laughing, hunching over, and don’t see as Oikawa's face flushes profusely. 

“Sure. I’d love to see you try to pick up one of my serves too.”

“Wanna bet? I could easily pick up every one of your serves.”

“Sure, pretty boy.”

“No aces, you owe me another muffin.”

“Huh? How does that work?”

“Figure it out, loser.”

You indignantly narrow your eyes, crossing your arms. “And if I do score an ace on you?”

“You get a muffin.” 

You roll your eyes at his childlike antics. “Sure. Just make sure you’re ready to go bankrupt.”

You wake the next morning to your team manager banging on your door, slamming it open, and shoving her phone in your face. You blink blearily, abruptly pulled from senseless dreams and the warmth of sleep to a grainy photo of the unmistakable tall, broad shouldered figure of Oikawa, and you beside him, laughing together. 

“Care to explain? Why are there dating rumours? What do you think you’re doing?”

You grumble, turning over. For now, you’d relish in your dreams of a certain volleyball player and glorious chocolate muffins. 

written by @atlaswav , published 28th of January 2025

[ganondoodle]

in other news, i still hate the 'curse' demise says being seen as a literal thing so widely, like he is somehow powerful enough to bend the world to that cycle and even the gods being helpless against it (unless they want it or even orchestrated it but that option never comes up does it), its never even considered to perhaps not be real, like its a literal law of the zelda world, imo its pretty boring itself and also boring as an explanation for the cycle and most often really only gets used to or talked about to make ganondorf be just a helpless evil guy that is born evilly bc he is cursed and if you took away tha demon juice he would side with hyrule and be good tm (a side effect being that people think he is the actual reincarnation of demise like zelda is supposedly of hylia which also sucks IMO) .... or to make demise some sort of puppet master, which i hate even more no .. no i hate that the most (bc it makes ganondorf a puppet and demise the evil demon master and thus ruins both my favs yippie)

[naiad-lagoon]

tyty for the tag, @emelkae!

rules: post the last seven sentences you've written, then tag seven people.

this was actually never supposed to see the light of day (didn't even make it out of my notes to a doc lmao) so no title for this

How long until he himself is slain in the name of peace across the nation and finally laid to rest in waters marred by his own blood and for once not that of others? Surely the blood should be gone by now. But he can feel it, splashing up to his shoulders. Pouring down his lungs. He is wading in it. How much blood is on his hands? Too much.

open tag ofc!! buuuut for the challenge rules i'm tagging: @perpetualcynicism, @minhxiao, @frankenjoly, @legend-of-cupcake, @thirdleaflogic, @cocrante, @airbluest

[batcavescolony]

I hate AI. You wanna see your favorite character say something? Here

Dick Grayson: Hi, Don't use AI to make me say things. I'm literally a fictional character, just think.

Look at that Nightwing himself told you not to! Want another?

Dean Winchester: AI is fuckin' stupid, nothing can fake being a human on my watch.

Wow, amazing!

Support the actual humans in your fandom.

[tabellae-rex-in-sui]

Please tell us more about Bordel Patriotique?? 👀

Bordel Patriotique is that one political porn pamphlet from 1791 that features a bunch of political figures of the time. The author claims to be Marie Antoinette opening a "Patriotic Brothel" meaning a brothel that embraces the revolution and serves the people. It's all very satirical. There's a few pages about the importance of fucking in a Republic-honoring way or whatever, usual porn pamphlet stuff, but at the end there's a few scenes of dialogue (and sex) between real public figures. Here's the cast of featured characters and their roles:

Danton fucks Marat at one point. Also whoever wrote this REALLY hates Marat.

You can read it here